PREVIOUSLY...
“Okay, that’s it!” Lois said. “French toast or not, that cow’s possessed. This experiment in country living is over. I give up. Surrender. I’d rather face Kyle Griffin again than this creature.”
She attempted to slip past Clark, but his free hand came around her waist, stopping her sideways movement out of the stall.
“It’s okay, Lois,” Clark whispered in her ear even as his other hand held Betsy at bay. “She’s just a bit nervous.”
“She’s nervous?” Lois asked in disbelief even as her heart calmed to a manageable rate.
“I’m right here. Look... how about I help?”
Lois instantly relaxed. “Well... if you insist on helping, I guess I can hardly stop you,” Lois said, a salve to her wounded pride. “It’s your place, after all.”
“Thank you, Lois. I appreciate that,” Clark said in his patientedly patronizing voice.
She knew the voice well. Still, she let it go. After all, he was here. And he was offering to help. She had won so... “Fine then. What’s next...” * * * * * * * * *
AND NOW...
Laughter filled the Kent farmhouse as Lois and Clark, while consuming a luxurious breakfast of fruit, french toast, syrup and whipped cream, recounted their adventure milking the cows.
“So then Lois reaches under Betsy,” Clark said, “and uses her thumb and finger to give Betsy’s teat one quick tug. Of course, nothing came out so she jumps up and announces that Betsy’s empty.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Lois said, laughing at herself as much as with the others. “After all, if someone did that to me I wouldn’t want them applying as much pressure as Clark did.”
“Good tip,” Clark said, earning himself a swat from Lois.
“So did you finally get the hang of it?” Jonathan asked.
“Well, Clark was sitting behind me on the stool so he put his hands over mine and sort of coached me. I was doing fine, too, until the cats.”
“What about the cats?” Martha asked, sounding confused.
“Well, we managed to get into a rhythm with the milk squirting into the can,” Clark said, “until the cats started gathering around. I can feel Lois getting tense, but couldn’t understand why. I could hear the cats, of course, but didn’t think anything of it”
“I thought I was suddenly in the middle of a Stephen King novel,” Lois added, defending her reaction. “Attack of the cats or something. I figured they were guard cats who instantly recognized I was a city girl and were there to protect poor Betsy from getting her milk stolen.”
Everyone laughed.
“How was I to know they just wanted their breakfast?” Lois asked through her own laughter.
“So did you oblige them?” Jonathan asked.
Lois nodded. “Yeah. I could hardly believe it when Clark told me to squirt some milk at them. I thought he was joking. But I did it and it was sort of neat - watching them jump for the milk. What was that sound you kept making anyway?” she asked, looking at Clark.
“You mean this one?” Clark asked, giving a deep guttural whistle.
“Yeah.”
“I learned that from Dad. He says it helps keep the cow calm - lets her know I’m there and everything’s all right.”
“Keeps them from coming sideways or trying to kick over the bucket,” Jonathan added.
“You could have told me that before we started,” Lois said, giving Clark a disapproving stare. “Still, I guess that would explain why you used it when the cows would start to get restless.”
“Anyway, Lois did pretty good - for a city girl,” Clark said.
“You have no idea. You’ve been doing this all your life. How would you like to be thrown into something completely foreign to you?”
“Well, I have been.”
“You becoming a reporter isn’t exactly the same thing as me milking a cow.”
“How about working on an ocean freighter?”
“You’ve worked on an ocean freighter?”
“Earned my crossing across the Atlantic,” Clark said proudly.
“Couldn’t you have simply flown over?”
“He could have,” Martha said. “And he did plenty. But he said he wanted the experience. He was fresh out of college and wanted to try everything. I think he might have had second thoughts about half way over.”
“Well, Captain Stiller might have been having second thoughts, anyway,” Clark corrected. “Apparently being a sailor requires more than brute strength. But it’s not as if you can quit... or get fired... half way across the ocean. Any more you can quit milking a cow half way through.”
“Yeah, well, unless you’ve got a partner. At the end my hands started cramping up,” Lois said. “I never knew milking cows was such hard work. So I had to let Clark finish up.”
“Well, I think we make a pretty good team.”
“And don’t you forget it again,” Lois responded.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Clark said, earning himself another swat from Lois.
“So...” Martha said in the brief pause that followed. “...what do you two have planned for the rest of the morning?”
“I’ve been thinking about Clark’s beard,” Lois said, provoking a surprised reaction from Clark. “I mean, it looks okay right now.” She avoided meeting Martha’s eyes on the obvious lie. Clark’s beard looked positively scruffy, but there wasn’t much point in mentioning that if there was nothing they could do about it. “At some point, though, it’s going to need at least a trim.”
“Lois, I told you I can’t trim it. Besides, my sight will be back long before I need to cut it.”
“Fine. You’re probably right. Still... Martha, you do work with welding equipment, don’t you? Artist type of work.”
Martha nodded. “That’s right. Although right now I’m working on light sculptures. It’s a process of using lights and holographic images to create sculptures. My art teacher thinks it’s the art of the future. Why?”
“Well, it may be a crazy idea, but could something like a blowtorch be used to shave Clark’s beard?”
“What do you think, Clark?”
“I have no idea. But I’m not sure it’s necessary to waste time...”
“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Lois interrupted. “Do you, Martha?”
“Me... no. Sounds fun. What mother hasn’t wanted to try out a blowtorch on her son’s face at least once during his life?”
“I’d suggest you give in gracefully, son,” Jonathan said with a chuckle.
Clark let out a frustrated breath. “Fine,” he said in resignation. Fighting one of these women was bad enough. Both of them together... The phrase ‘milking a steer’ immediately came to mind. Besides, although Lois was still here and still talking to him, he knew he was still on thin ice with her. “But afterwards, I need to spend some time in the sun,” he added.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois took a deep breath as Martha handed her the lit blowtorch. Still, she made no attempt to raise it to Clark’s face.
“It’s one thing knowing he’s invulnerable,” Lois explained, finally handing the blowtorch back to Martha. “Using this on him... Well, that’s something else.”
Martha laughed, taking the blowtorch and immediately focusing it on Clark’s face.
A shiver went down Lois’ spine. “Sorry, it’s just...”
“I know. But I’ve had a lot more experience with Clark’s invulnerability than you have.” She turned up the flame on the blowtorch as she concentrated it on Clark’s beard. “Once I even pushed him off a balcony.”
“Purposely?” Lois asked.
“It was when I’d lost my memory during the asteroid crisis,” Clark explained. “She was trying to teach me to fly. But then Dad had already hit me with a baseball bat so I’m not sure why I was surprised.”
“It’s strange thinking about this stuff now,” Lois said as Martha continued to move the flame from the torch back and forth across his beard. “Now that I know there was so much more going on than I knew at the time.”
Martha let out a sigh and turned off the torch.
“Well?” Clark asked.
“No luck,” Martha said. “If you don’t get your heat vision back soon, we are going to have to try to think of something else. Surely NASA has experimental lasers or something that might work. But why they’d give them to us...”
“Just a second...” Lois interrupted. “Clark, you said that you didn’t know if your heat vision works because you’ve never tried it.”
“That’s because even if it did work, it’s not as if it would be very useful when I can’t aim it.”
“But it could still work,” Lois insisted.
“What are you thinking, Lois?” Martha asked.
“It’s just... if your heat vision does work... You said you bounce it off a mirror to shave, right?”
“Right, but...”
“Martha, could you weld together a bunch of mirrors that he could somehow hold over his face so that the heat vision could simply bounce around inside, shaving him without hurting anyone else?”
Martha began to nod. “I think I could do that. He would have to be able to look into it and yet it would have to fit around his eyes tight enough not to burn off his eyebrows, but, yes, I think I could do that.”
“But even if it were tight around my eyes, my heat vision would burn off my eyelashes.”
“Good point,” Lois said.
“I think I could do something about that,” Martha said. “Flaps of some kind that instantly close after you shoot out your heat vision.”
“You could do that?” Lois asked.
“I think so. Coat the inside of the flap with a reflective substance and... yes, I think I could do that.”
“Then, Clark, we have to find out if your heat vision still works.
* * * * * * * * *
“This is crazy, Lois,” Clark said while he listened to Lois moving around him.
“Hush up. I’m just about finished. Okay, done.”
Clark sighed.
“The pile of sticks is now sitting in the middle of the yard with a good ten feet of snow all around it,” Lois explained. “If you miss, it’s no big deal.”
“And how do you suggest I try to hit it?”
“Well, don’t they say that when you lose your sight, your other senses become enhanced?”
“Lois, I think it’s safe to say that my other senses are pretty much as enhanced as they’re going to get.”
“Oh, right. So then... What if I tap the sticks and you listen and try to aim for the noise?”
“I’m not trying this until you’re standing behind me.”
“Fine. So I tap the sticks and then you concentrate on the spot. I’ll tap your shoulder when I’m behind you.”
Clark sighed, but didn’t object. After all, it was pretty clear they were doing this whether he saw the point or not.
“Okay, here are the sticks.”
He heard her tap and concentrated on that spot. Some rustling, which he did his best to ignore, and then she was tapping his shoulder.
He took a deep breath and imagined himself shooting his heat vision towards the sticks.
Lois gasped.
“What?” he asked.
“Uhh... well, it seems your heat vision still works,” she said, but the slightly breathless quality of her voice suggested that something wasn’t right.
“What? What did I do?”
“Well, maybe next time you could try giving it a little less... whatever.”
“Lois...” he groaned, still waiting for his explanation even as his nostrils picked up a faintly burned aroma. “Lois?” he asked, more cautiously now.
“Nothing. Nothing. It’s nothing. Just... well, the sticks didn’t actually burn. They just sort of... exploded. Along with about five feet of melted snow and now... slightly burned grass. As to whether you hit where you were aiming for... I really can’t say for certain where you hit.”
“Oh, great,” Clark groaned. “Listen, maybe this isn’t the best idea. Why don’t we just...”
“No. No, Clark. You just have to practice a little. We can move to some new snow and pile up some more sticks and you can try it again.”
“Lois...”
“Or are you telling me that when you learned to use your heat vision, you got it right the first time, never had any accidents and didn’t have to practice?”
“Ask him to tell you about the time he almost burned down the barn,” Jonathan yelled from where he had been watching and listening on the front porch of the house.
Clark sighed. Just what he didn’t need. His father telling Lois all about his misadventures when he’d been learning to control his powers. He felt like enough of a failure as it was without hearing those stories again. “Fine. So, I take it we’re trying this again?” he asked more to derail this conversation then to see if he could do better a second time. After all, this was unnecessary. The sun would cure his blindness soon. Any day now, in fact. He was sure of it.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois paced about the kitchen while Martha prepared supper, nervous anticipation making it impossible for her to concentrate. When she chopped the tomatoes for the salad into mush, Martha had finally banned her from helping. Still, she couldn’t sit still and as a result paced back and forth across the kitchen.
The morning had been spent helping Clark with his heat vision. The afternoon, helping Martha create a device which would enable Clark to shave. And now...
“Lois, could you pace over there?” Martha said in exasperation when Lois managed to walk between Martha and the table just as Martha went to set something on it.
“Oh... sorry,” Lois said, moving out of the way to resume her pacing almost immediately.
It amazed Lois how quickly Clark had caught on to using his heat vision effectively without the use of his sight. She suspected he was doing some very intricate calculations using angles and the speed of sound to determine distance and strength. Probably subconsciously. But then... he was Superman and could undoubtedly do those calculations in his head in fractions of a second. Not that she was particularly surprised. After all, first thing this morning, when she had been in danger of being squished by Betsy, Clark had suddenly been there - moving from the door to the barn to her side faster than she would have believed possible. She wasn’t sure he was even aware of how fast or how accurately he had actually moved. But it had informed her that he was capable of a lot more than he believed he was.
The afternoon had been interesting, too - working with Martha on her contraption. They’d had to go out on several occasions to where Clark had insisted on lying in the yard to take measurements of his face before returning to Martha’s studio to make revisions. But finally, late this afternoon, Martha had pronounced the project complete. It was, to be sure, one of the oddest looking contraptions Lois had ever seen. A jumble of small mirrors, cut and soldered together so that the joints were practically invisible from the inside. Not that it had been easy. But Martha, it seemed, was talented enough with the soldering equipment to make it work.
Clark had been skeptical when presented with the finished product and had insisted that he be left alone to try it out for the first time - afraid that if it did come apart, they would get hurt. That was how she found herself pacing Martha’s kitchen late in the afternoon.
She sighed as she thought about Clark’s attitude. Martha was right when she had informed Lois that something in Clark had changed. Usually, he was the one who was optimistic. A glass half full kind of guy. But the loss of his sight, and the failure of the sun to restore it, seemed to be eating away at that natural optimism. It worried Lois.
The sound of someone at the door caused Lois to swivel in that direction just in time to see the door open and Clark step into the house. A slow smile transformed her features as she looked at him.
“It worked!” exclaimed Martha, having stopped her dinner preparations.
“It did,” Clark responded, his hand now massaging his freshly shaven face.
“And you still have those cute little eyelashes of yours,” Lois said with relief even as she stepped closer, reaching out to move his hand away from his face. “Why is it so red?” she asked, observing that his skin appeared almost sunburned.
“I’m afraid I used a little too much power with the heat vision. Normally when I shave, the beam only hits the mirror once before hitting my face. This time it bounced off a number of mirrors so I adjusted the strength of the beam to compensate for that. I guess it will take some practice to figure out exactly how much power I need to use.”
“But you’re okay?” She reached up to touch his face, pulling her hand back quickly when she realized it was hot enough to burn against her fingers.
Clark nodded. “My aftershave stung a bit more than normal, but yeah, I’m fine. Thanks. Both of you. It feels... good.” He ran his hand over his chin once again.
“Well, it’s great having my clean shaven son back,” Martha said with a grin. “Now... how about dinner?”
* * * * * * * * *
Perry stared at the sentence on the paper in front of him in disbelief. Ralph’s writing often required more work than most of his other reporters. But today... his writing was almost unintelligible. What the Sam Hill did that sentence even mean?
He was about to drag Ralph into his office to tell him that a complete rewrite was necessary when he glanced at the clock. He sighed. Ralph had undoubtedly left for the day. He was about to get up to retrieve the press briefing about the new library so that he could rewrite Ralph’s story himself when the ringing phone stopped him.
“White,” he said into the receiver tiredly.
“Hi, Perry.”
The familiar voice brought a smile to Perry’s face. “Honey, hi. I was hoping to hear from you.”
“Why, Perry? What happened?” Lois asked.
Perry’s grin widened. Ever the reporter. How she had deduced that something had happened from what he had said, he had no idea. Not that he was surprised. She was Lois Lane after all. “Hey, can’t I just be happy to hear from you?” he demanded.
“Sorry, Perry. Of course you can. I just thought... from the sound of your voice...”
“Relax, Lois. I was just funning with you. As a matter of fact, something has happened and I’ve been trying to find you. Where are you anyway?”
After a pause, Lois said, “Kansas.”
Kansas? Well, well, well. That would explain why neither her mother nor her sister had known anything about a family emergency. The family emergency hadn’t exactly been for her family. Or... was that how she thought of the Kents? Very interesting. But that meant... “Are the Kents okay?”
“It’s a long story, Perry. I really can’t get into it. But basically, yes. They’re okay.” She paused slightly. “You do understand about me saying I had a family emergency, don’t you?” she asked rather tentatively.
He thought about that for a moment before responding in the affirmative.
Lois sighed. “Thanks, Perry. So why have you been looking for me?”
“Oh, right. Henderson called. He thought you should know that Kyle Griffin and his side kick... What was his name again?”
“Victor. What about them?”
“They escaped from prison.”
“What! Oh, god! This is my fault. I never should have said I’d rather face Griffin than Betsy.”
“Who’s Betsy?”
“What? Oh, the cow,” Lois responded as if that should be perfectly obvious.
“Uhh... okay,” Perry said, not understanding at all. Still, deciding it wasn’t important, he continued with what he still needed to tell her. “Apparently, he broke out of prison by flashing this bright yellow light in the guards’ eyes and it froze them in place for a period of time, allowing Griffin and his friend to escape. Oh, and the reason Henderson was calling - aside from his belief that you need to know given Griffin’s obvious obsession with you - is that apparently Griffin broke into your apartment. Your landlord reported the break-in. When the police dusted for prints, they discovered it was Griffin.”
“Was anything taken?”
“Not as far as Henderson could tell. He suspects that Griffin might have been out for revenge and when he couldn’t find you, trashed your apartment. I sent a repairman over to fix your door and Jimmy went over to tidy up the place a bit.”
“Maybe I should catch the first flight back.”
“Actually, I was going to suggest you stay where you are. Given that Griffin seems to want revenge and has a device that can immobilize people just by flashing it at them, it will be hard for you to defend yourself using your usual methods. Let the police deal with this one.”
Lois shivered. He might be right. Not that she liked the idea of running from a fight. On the other hand, she had quite enough to deal with right here in Smallville. “Okay, Perry. I’ll check in again in a few days. But listen... Have you started interviewing for Clark’s job yet?”
“No. Why? Any chance the prodigal son might return?”
“I don’t know. But... is there a chance you might be interested if he wanted to return? I know the way he left was...”
“Did he have a good reason?”
“Yes, Perry. He did.”
Perry mulled this over in his mind for a moment. Clark was one of the best reporters he’d ever seen. And Clark and Lois together were pure gold. Still, the way Clark had simply walked out without as much as a by-your-leave... “I’d consider it,” he finally said. “But I’d have to be convinced that he really did have a good reason for leaving the way he did.”
He could tell by Lois’ silence that she hadn’t been overly happy with his answer, but it was the best he could give her.
“Okay, Perry,” she finally said. “I’ll give you a call in a few days. Oh, and thanks - you know, for taking care of my apartment for me.”
“Hey, no problem. It was the least I could do given that Griffin’s grudge with you is because of the stories you’ve gotten about him for the paper.”
He could almost hear the smile in Lois’ voice, as if she realized that he’d have done it even if it had been non-paper related, as she said, “Atomic weight is a dimensionless physical quality, the ration of the average mass of atoms of an element to one twelfth of the mass of carbon-12.”
“What’s that?” he asked in confusion.
“Uhh... nothing. Goodbye, Perry.”
As he hung up, Perry smiled. It seemed Lois’ Faraday slips happened more when she was touched or emotional. Well, he supposed that made sense. Still, in spite of her leak, it was nice to know that she had appreciated his gesture.
His mind drifted. So Lois was in Kansas. Well, good. That was exactly what Lois needed - to work things out with Clark. He’d been worried about her after Clark left. She seemed so... bereft without him. And if they could get things worked out... well, that might not be so bad for the paper either.
His smile turned to a frown. What was going on in Kansas, anyway, that forced Clark leave the way he had and had sent Lois flying out of here on a moment’s notice? He hoped everything was okay. But as soon as the thought came, he dismissed it. Lois and Clark were on the case. And with the two of them working together, they’d get it sorted out. He was sure of it. The only thing he wasn’t sure of was whether or not they knew that.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois pulled her legs up under her as she curled up in the big chair in Clark’s cabin. She watched Clark for a moment as he tended to the fire. In spite of the fact that he was blind, he was wearing his glasses. He had ever since he’d shaved. But then, she supposed that made sense. After all, clean shaven he looked suspiciously like Superman without the glasses. She took a sip of her coffee and sighed.
“Okay, so what’s been bugging you all evening,” Clark asked as he felt his way to the couch and took a seat.
She wasn’t sure how he did it. She thought she’d been up-beat and carefree during supper with Clark’s parents - being careful to hold up her end of the conversation. Still, she must have given away her concerned thoughts in some manner. That must be why Clark had invited her to come to his cabin after they’d finished doing up the dishes after supper - not that he might not have just wanted her company, she thought with an inward grin.
Still, she supposed he did have the right to know. She may have been the main target of Griffin’s ire when he’d come after her the last time - all because she’d written the story that had put him in prison five years ago. But Clark had assisted in writing the story that had put Griffin back in prison. So it was possible he was as much a target as she was.
“So what is it, Lois?”
“Well, you know I called Perry this afternoon.”
Clark nodded.
“When I came here, I told him I’d call when I had a better idea of how long I’d be gone.”
“So what did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d call back again soon.”
She watched as Clark nibbled slightly on his lower lip.
“Does he know where you are?”
She nodded, then realizing he couldn’t see her, responded in the affirmative.
“So what did you tell him... you know... about why you’re here?”
“As little as possible. But there’s something else.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Clark, Kyle Griffin and his partner escaped from Strykers.”
“What?” Clark responded, his word almost sounding like a gunshot with the soft crackling of the fire the only other sound in the room. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “How did this happen?”
“Apparently, he invented a light which, when he shines it into people’s eyes, temporarily freezes them. He used it on the guards and escaped.”
“How did he manage to invent this in prison?”
“Arts and crafts?” Lois suggested in response.
“I can’t believe this! How could the Metropolis Correctional Services have let this happen? Letting him invent a device that could be used as a weapon! He was in prison in the first place for inventing high-tech weaponry to sell to terrorists. He tried to destroy the Daily Planet with a high-tech laser for crying out loud!”
“Yeah. Well, that’s not the worst of it. Apparently, he broke into my apartment and...”
“What?”
Lois flinched on the shout. “Clark, calm down,” Lois said as soothingly as possible.
“How can you...” Clark gestured wildly in her direction. “...be so calm about this? He kidnapped you! He wants you humiliated and dead! He breaks out of prison and first thing he does is break into your apartment. How come you aren’t... I don’t know... freaking out or something? Don’t you understand what type of danger you’re in - or do you just not care?”
“Would you calm down? I’m in Kansas. He’s in Metropolis. Besides, I don’t think ‘freaking out’ as you put it is going to help.”
“Don’t you understand?”
“Understand what? Clark, what’s this all about?”
“If he comes after you... I can’t protect you!” Clark’s voice broke on the words. “Superman can’t save you this time?” The final words weren’t much more than a whisper.
A long moment of silence followed Clark’s words. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. The soft crackling of the fire was the only sound in the cabin until, at last, Lois spoke.
“First of all, Superman didn’t save me from Griffin last time. If I recall correctly, I’d already managed to take out Victor and Griffin by the time you arrived. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m not looking for a protector. If you haven’t learned that by now, you don’t know me at all.”
“Lois...”
“And second... who says Superman can’t still save me?”
“Lois...”
“Clark, how did you get between Betsy and me this morning?”
Seeming surprised by the non sequitur, Clark hesitated. “Excuse me?”
“When I was trying to milk the cow and she started coming towards me, I yelled for you. One moment you were standing next to the door and the next... you were holding Betsy back from crushing me. How did you do it?”
Clark’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment.
“Clark, you still have your powers. What you need to do is figure out is how to use those powers given the fact that... at least for the time being... you’ve lost your sight. Life hasn’t ended. Your usefulness to the world hasn’t ended. It may have changed, but it’s up to you to decide whether you choose to embrace life... to be the best blind man you can be or if it’s all too hard.” She paused. When she spoke again, all her love for him was in her slightly trembling voice. “Fulfill your promise to me to be the best blind man you can be.”
He was silent as he considered this, and Lois felt as if her heart was standing still while she waited for his response. He had so much potential. The loss of his eyesight hadn’t changed that. The thought of him throwing it all away by sitting out here in the middle of nowhere doing nothing broke her heart.
Besides, if he chose that, and then didn’t get his sight back, where did that leave her relationship with Clark? Lois wasn’t sure. As strong as her feelings were for Clark, she knew that her spirit would die if she wasn’t in the thick of the battle. Could she give that up to be with Clark if he decided not to rejoin life?
Something inside her knew that the battle going on in Clark at this moment was to decide whether to choose life or a slow and painful death. And as much as she wished she could make that decision for him, the choice was his alone.
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
