PREVIOUSLY...
Lois said nothing as she released Clark’s arm to place his hand on the back of one of the chairs. Once that was done, she turned back to the door. But instead of leaving, she closed the door before sitting down in the chair next to Clark. She said nothing but met Perry’s eyes in a way that told him he’d pretty much need a crowbar to pry her from her position at Clark’s side. She almost reminded him of a lioness preparing to defend her wounded mate.
Well, well, well. That was an interesting development, too. There was no mistaking the fact that they were together now. He still wasn’t entirely clear, though, whether Lois knew more now about her partner than she had when she’d left for Smallville.
Still... there was a pretext to maintain and some serious questions to tackle. The game must be played.AND NOW...
“Lois, I thought I told you to go back to work,” Perry growled.
“It’s okay, Lois,” Clark added, reaching over to squeeze her arm.
“As I understand it,” she said slowly, “you’re talking to Clark about the possibility of giving him his job back. Since he’s my partner, I think I have a right to have my opinion considered.”
Perry almost smiled. First point to Lois - and so he awarded the reporting team with the score of...
Fifteen love.
Instead of acknowledging her, though, he grunted. “Clark?” he asked.
“She has a point,” Clark said. “If you do agree to take me back, she’s the one who is going to be most affected - especially given my condition. I’d say that gives her some say. After all, she’d be saddled with a blind man for a partner.”
“Clark, we’ve already talked about this,” Lois said. “Most of what we do involves using our minds. And there is nothing wrong with your mind.”
“Whoa there, kids,” Perry said when it looked as if Clark was about to respond. “I think we’re putting the cart before the horse here. There is still the issue of Clark walking out of here without so much as a by-your-leave.”
That comment silenced both his star reporters. Score one for Perry.
Fifteen all.
“So what do you have to say for yourself, Clark?” Perry asked.
Clark shifted uncomfortably. “That I’m sorry. And that I wouldn’t have left the way I did if there was any other choice.”
“I’m afraid I need more than that,” Perry said.
Perry noticed that Lois’ hand found Clark’s. So... It seemed she did know... anything worth knowing about her partner.
“I’m sorry,” Clark finally said. “I don’t think I should say more. There are people counting on my discretion. But I can tell you that it really was the only option and I’m sorry for any problems it caused you or the paper.”
Perry grunted. He wondered for a moment whether or not to push the point. Clark hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him - just that he didn’t think he should. He could see that Lois was chewing nervously on her lower lip as she watched him. That decided the issue in Perry’s mind. Pushing might get him more information than he wanted to know... officially at least. “Just tell me that if I decide to give you a second chance that it won’t happen again,” Perry said.
He watched as both Lois and Clark seemed to begin breathing again, confirming his suspicions that they had come in here prepared to tell him if he pushed too hard.
“It won’t, sir,” Clark said immediately.
“Okay, then let’s get down to brass tacks,” Perry said. “Tell me about your eyes. Lois said something about a farm accident?”
“Yes, sir,” Clark responded.
Perry again fought the urge to grin. Clark hadn’t lied... exactly. After all, the ‘yes, sir,’ was simply a confirmation that Lois had made that statement. However, it certainly left the impression that he’d been blinded in some sort of farm accident. Score one to the reporters.
Thirty fifteen.
“Is the condition permanent?” Perry asked.
“The doctor isn’t sure. My sight might come back on its own. We just don’t know.”
“Are you completely blind or do you have some sight?”
“I can’t see anything - not shadows, not even shades of light and dark.”
Perry pursed his fingertips together as he thought about that. Could Clark do the job if he was blind? Because as much as he might like Clark, the Daily Planet wasn’t paying him to put people on the payroll who couldn’t handle the job. On the other hand, if his suspicions were correct, then Clark had actually been injured while working on a story. That would have qualified him for Workers Comp - assuming Clark felt he could reveal how he had really been blinded. So didn’t the Daily Planet owe him at least a chance to prove he could do the job?
“Look, Perry,” Clark said. “I know I have some challenges to overcome. But I have some ideas about how to do that. I can read Braille and I’m going to talk to Jimmy about some computer advances I learned about today. If they work the way they’re supposed to, I think I’ll be able to handle it. I can’t promise I won’t make some mistakes. But I promise I’ll give you a hundred percent and if I can’t pull my own weight, you won’t have to fire me. I’ll hand in my letter of resignation myself.”
Perry nodded. Clark was right. He at least owed it to the young man to let him see if he could do the job - so to speak.
“Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s give it a shot.” He looked at Lois. “Am I correct in assuming you want him back as your partner?”
“Using the observed cosmic expansion conjunctively with the general theory of relativity, we can infer from the data that the further back into time one looks, the universe ought to diminish in size accordingly. However, this cannot be extrapolated indefinitely.” Lois clenched her teeth before, as calmly as she could, saying, “Yes, I want him back as my partner.”
“Okay, but if I feel like you’re carrying him, I’ll have to split you up. And, Clark, I expect you to tell me if you can’t do the job.”
“He’ll be fine, Perry,” Lois said defensively.
“Lois...” Clark said softly, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
Perry smiled at the way she instantly calmed. Clark had obviously tamed the wild-cat - as much as Lois Lane would ever be tamed by anyone, of course. Score another one to the reporting team.
Forty fifteen.
“Okay, then. But if you can’t do the job, I don’t want your resignation. I suspect we might be able to find you something you can still do. Obituaries is always looking for a good writer.”
He saw Lois and Clark both flinch and scored another one to himself.
Forty thirty.
“Now that that’s settled... Before I send you down to personnel to do the necessary paperwork, I have an assignment I want to give the two of you.”
“Something happened when we were at CostMart during the lunch hour that we want to follow up on,” Lois interrupted.
“That shouldn’t take us long, Lois,” Clark said. “I don’t see why we couldn’t do both.”
Perry smiled - loving the fact that Clark obviously wasn’t expecting to be coddled just because of his impairment. As a result, Perry instantly awarded his reporting duo...
Game, set and match.
The look of adoration Lois cast in Clark’s direction told Perry that she was thinking much the same thing even if she did mutter, “Teacher’s pet.”
* * * * * * * * *
Lois picked up the file Perry took out of his desk and passed over to her. “He gave me a file,” she whispered to Clark.
Clark nodded.
She still wasn’t sure why Perry hadn’t pushed for an explanation for Clark’s resignation. Not that she was about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. Still, it bugged her that she couldn’t quite figure it out. She quickly pushed her questions to the back of her mind to turn her attention to what Perry was saying.
“Steven Baker and I met each other when I was a war correspondent in Vietnam,” Perry said.
Lois opened the folder to see, mixed in with some other papers, a black and white picture of several young men looking slightly disheveled but smiling for the camera. They were crowded around the open doors of a chopper. Some sitting. Some standing. Surrounding them was the paraphernalia of war - guns, vests, helmets, canteens, packs. Arms were around shoulders in an obvious demonstration of camaraderie.
“It was 1966 and I was as green as grass,” Perry said. “I think I was twenty-one. I thought I was so cool - an important war correspondent. I was especially proud because I had managed to get embedded with an elite unit. Anyway, Steve was a number of years older than me and was on his second tour in Nam. For some reason, he took pity on this young kid who had more guts than brains. He would keep an eye out for me when things would get crazy.
“One night, we were dropped into a hot zone. For some reason, the entire unit got turned around. An attack from the Vietcong came before we had a chance to dig in. Guns were firing and explosions were going off all around us. And there I am, lying prone on the ground, holding my helmet on my head, hoping to live through the night, when I felt a hand grab the back of my vest, dragging me to my feet.
“It was Steve. He never said a word, just kept his grasp on my vest as he dragged me out of there, his gun firing the entire time. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d have probably still been lying there when the Vietcong finally overran our position.”
Lois took a closer look at the picture. She could recognize the young man in the picture as Perry - although barely and mostly because of the camera hanging around his neck. “There’s a picture of a bunch of them together,” Lois informed Clark before she turned her attention to Perry. “Which one is Steve?” she asked.
Perry reached across the desk and tapped the picture. Lois took a closer look at the man in question. Something about him looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite bring that thought into focus. Maybe she’d seen a picture of him before.
“Why are you telling us this, Perry?” Clark asked, bringing Lois’ attention back to the matter at hand.
“I lost touch with him over the years,” Perry said. “So I had no idea he was even in Metropolis. Day before yesterday, I got a call from his daughter.” He struggled with his next words. “Some of the guys who came back from Nam were never quite able to adjust back into society,” Perry explained. “Steve was one of those. His daughter informed me that he lost his home a few years ago and was living on the streets.”
It was a common story. There were a lot of unrecognized victims from that war.
“Anyway, the reason his daughter called was because apparently he went missing a few weeks ago.”
“How does she know that he’s missing?” Clark asked. “Maybe he just moved on to another location.”
“That’s what the police told her,” Perry said. “When she couldn’t get them to take an interest, she remembered that Steve had mentioned me from time to time over the years. Seems he would brag that saving me was one of the best things he had ever done. Apparently, he thought I’d done him proud with the stories I’d broken over the years.”
“So you want us to follow up on this?” Lois asked.
Perry nodded. “I know it’s not exactly... hard news, but...”
“I think a forgotten Vietnam vet is a story worth telling, Perry,” Clark said, interrupting Perry.
“So is the police ignoring a missing person’s report just because the person is homeless,” Lois added.
“Thanks, guys,” Perry responded before shooing Lois and Clark out of his office as gruffly as he could.
* * * * * * * * *
Jimmy looked up from where he was working on getting Clark’s computer set up to see Lois slowly showing Clark around the newsroom. It was strange watching them. Lois was constantly talking, explaining what was around them, while Clark nodded occasionally, but rarely said anything. It was almost as if he was committing the entire room to memory.
No, that would be impossible - especially given the amount of detail Lois seemed to be supplying. But the exact purpose of the tour was lost on Jimmy. Maybe it was just to give him some orientation.
When Clark had first stepped off the elevator, Jimmy had felt a rush of anger given how Clark had left the Planet. Until he’d realized that Clark was blind. Anger had dissipated immediately as concern for his friend had surged to the forefront of his mind.
Besides, if Lois could forgive Clark, which she obviously had, how could Jimmy hold a grudge? And he had to admit, he was glad to see Lois looking so content once again. It had been painful to watch her retreat into herself. At times, she had seriously scared him, too, taking risks to get the story that were over the top even for her - as if she no longer cared what happened to her. But now... Clark had returned and it was obvious that everything was now right in Lois’ world. And with that realization, his indignation had retreated permanently and Clark had received Jimmy’s unconditional forgiveness.
So when Clark had come over to talk to him about setting up his computer to take into account his handicap, Jimmy had quickly picked up the challenge and run with it. The fact that Clark had apologized to Jimmy at the same time had been an unexpected bonus.
Jimmy was especially glad when he discovered in the storage room a keyboard with Braille on the keys - although where it had come from, Jimmy had no idea. Still, he suspected Clark would be pleased. Not for basic typing, of course, since the little raised dot on the F and J keys helped to orient a person’s hands on the keyboard, but if he wanted to use some of the less used keys the Braille would come in handy.
As for the rest of it, he would have to stop by accounting to see if some of the equipment Clark wanted could be ordered. Jimmy planned to get the okay from Perry to help grease those particular wheels.
The programming Clark had mentioned, however, was available on the internet - if one knew where to look. Fortunately, Jimmy did.
Jimmy pulled a small pair of his personal earphones out of his pocket and stuck them into the jack on the computer as he waited for the program he’d chosen to download. He’d try to requisition a better set of headphones for Clark, but these would at least let Clark know if the program would suit his purposes.
* * * * * * * * *
“Hey, Jimmy,” Clark said as he and Lois approached his desk.
“How did you know it was me?” Jimmy responded.
“Who else would be sitting at my desk? Besides, I recognized your aftershave,” he added as an afterthought, realizing that he would likely need another reason to recognize Jimmy in the future.
“Hey, cool,” Jimmy said. “I’ve heard that when you lose your eyesight, your other senses become enhanced. Guess it’s true, huh?”
He heard Lois stifle a chuckle and had to fight one off himself. ‘If you only knew, Jimmy,’ he wanted to say. He settled for, “Yeah, Jimmy. You have to find other ways to interact with the world.”
“Well, I think I’ve got things pretty much set up on your computer,” Jimmy said before moving out of the way so that Clark could take a seat. As he began explaining to Clark how the program he’d down loaded would talk to him, tell him what was on his screen and even read the contents of web pages and other programs, Lois excused herself to make some phone calls.
Jimmy was just finishing up when Lois returned. By the pace of her return and the speed of her heart, she was obviously on a mission. Clark almost smiled when he realized that even with his sight, Jimmy had missed the signs.
“Anyway,” Jimmy said, “I’m going to see what I can do about ordering a Braille printer. The program you have will allow you to print things off in Braille, but you’ll need a special printer to use it. Oh, and I’m going to see if they can add Braille editions of some of the major newspapers we subscribe to.”
“Thanks, Jimmy. You’ve been a big help.”
“Sure, no problem.” Jimmy took a seat on the edge of Clark’s desk. “Hey, have you found another place to live yet? I went by your old apartment the other day and there was a young couple living there.”
“Uhh... well...” Clark stammered. He and Lois hadn’t exactly discussed what they were going to tell people.
“Clark’s going to be living with me,” Lois said.
“Really?” Jimmy asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was thinking things that... were probably exactly right. “Hey, I think it’s great,” he continued, obviously responding to the look Lois must have given him.
“We’ve already ordered a desk and a new couch,” Clark said. He was not entirely sure why he’d said that. “And my folks are sending my personal belongings back from Smallville,” Clark continued. Why was he explaining this to Jimmy? What happened between him and Lois was their business, after all. But for some reason, he just couldn’t seem to stop talking - as if he was trying to direct Jimmy’s mind away from the bed he was sharing with Lois. “CostMart is going to be delivering the desk and couch on Friday evening.”
“Hey, look,” Jimmy said. “I don’t have plans for Friday evening. Why don’t I come over and help you move the stuff in?”
Clark wanted to refuse. He could probably do it quicker himself. Still, given his handicap, it would seem strange to refuse the offer of assistance. “That would be great, Jimmy,” he said instead.
“Cool! It will give us a chance to catch up,” Jimmy said, jumping up from the corner of Clark’s desk and practically skipping towards Perry’s office.
“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Lois asked, taking Jimmy’s place on the corner of his desk.
“I don’t know,” Clark confessed, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I could hear myself talking, but just couldn’t seem to force myself to shut up.”
“Let me guess... you were trying to protect my honor - get Jimmy’s mind off what might be happening in that big bed of mine...” She stopped momentarily. When she continued, there was something sultry in her voice. “...that big bed of ours by talking about couches and desks and personal belongings.” Her voice was soft, slightly amused even, as her hand began to smooth his now ruffled hair.
“Crazy, hey,” he said, relieved to discover she was amused rather than offended.
“You,” she responded. “It was just... you.”
“So what had you all fired up when you first came over here?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, right. Well, while you and Jimmy were doing your male bonding thing, I called the Metropolis Psychiatric Hospital.”
Clark sat up straighter.
“There are three male patients there with the last name of Smith. That’s all they would tell me.”
“So one of them could be our Mr. Smith?”
“Maybe. But without seeing them, I can’t know. But get this...” She paused for dramatic effect. “...there’s no Dr. Sandra Durant working there. In fact, I made some other inquiries and there is no Dr. Sandra Durant registered to practice medicine anywhere in New Troy.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Also, when I questioned them about someone escaping this morning, they denied it.”
“That doesn’t mean a lot. They might be trying to cover up a slip in their security.”
“True. But given that there is no Dr. Durant working there...”
“...it does seem like they might be telling the truth.”
“Exactly. So then I looked up the license number for the ambulance. It is registered to Speedy Ambulance, but when I called Speedy Ambulance...”
“Let me guess. They claimed they hadn’t made a pick up at CostMart this morning.”
“You got it.”
Clark nodded. “Anything on our other story?”
“Well, I took a look at the file Perry gave us. Not much there. A basic biography. The note Perry made when he talked to Steve’s daughter. The picture I mentioned in Perry’s office. I did call his daughter, however. She said her father was living on the east side of Suicide Slum when he disappeared. Apparently, she realized he was missing because every Sunday, no matter where he was, he’d give her a call to see how she was doing. When he didn’t call, she knew something was wrong.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Oh, and I asked her to fax us a more recent picture of her father. Turns out she has a scanner so she’s going to email it to us.”
“Whose email address did you give?”
“Both of ours.”
Clark turned towards his computer. “Let’s see if Jimmy’s program does what it’s supposed to do.”
Since his hearing told him no one was close enough to notice, he didn’t bother sticking the earpiece in, being able to hear it perfectly well where it was. Still, he carefully followed Jimmy’s other instructions. He felt a surge of pride when a moment later, Lois informed him that the picture which had been sent to Lois and copied to him had begun to load onto the screen.
Lois gasped.
“What?” Clark asked.
“I think we just found our Mr. Smith,” Lois said, tapping the picture of Steven Baker that had appeared on the screen.
* * * * * * * * *
“Could I speak to Steven Baker?” Clark asked into his phone.
Lois sat on the corner of his desk, listening.
“Could you check again? I’m sure his daughter said the Metropolis Psychiatric Hospital.” There was a short pause. “Well, I suppose I could have gotten that wrong. Do you know if there is anywhere else he could be?”
Clark’s eyebrows rose, informing Lois that Clark had not expected that response.
“Okay, well, I’ll do that then,” Clark said before, after a quick good-bye, hanging up the phone.
“What’d they say?”
“That he isn’t there and if I want someone to check out every psychiatric institution in New Troy I should get a researcher.”
As if on cue, they both yelled, “Jimmy!”
* * * * * * * * *
After leaving Jimmy with instructions to check not only all psychiatric institutions, but also all hospitals and morgues for Steven Baker or Mr. Smith or, in the case of morgues, any John Does matching Baker’s description, Lois and Clark decided to visit the three Smiths they knew were registered at the Metropolis Psychiatric Hospital - to see if any of them was actually their Steven Baker.
Clark wasn’t entirely sure what use he would be, given that he couldn’t identify Baker from either his picture or seeing him that morning. Still, Lois had insisted that he accompany her.
“Did you bring your cane?” Lois asked as she pulled the jeep into a parking spot and cut the engine.
“Yes. Why?”
“Use it when we go into the MPH.”
Clark cocked his head to the side, even as he began unfolding the cane. “You wouldn’t be planning to take advantage of the fact that I’m blind, would you?” he asked suspiciously.
“You bet your sweet little chumpy I would.”
Clark smiled. “What exactly did you have in mind, Ms. Lane?”
* * * * * * * * *
Clark made a show of using his cane as he and Lois worked their way across the hospital foyer. When they arrived at the information counter, he folded his cane, laying it on the counter where the woman behind the counter couldn’t miss seeing it.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“I hope so. We’re here to see our boss. Can you tell us which room he’s in?” Lois asked.
Clark made a mental note of what he could tell about the counter. He could smell coffee and by focusing his hearing, he could tell where the mug was situated. He shifted over slightly, making Lois change sides with him.
“And his name would be?”
“Smith,” Lois said confidently. “Mr. Smith.”
Some tapping on a computer keyboard told Clark that the woman was typing in the name.
“She has a cup of coffee sitting beside her,” Lois muttered under her breath, too softly for the woman behind the counter to overhear her. “And a bunch of papers on the left side of that,” she continued, both confirming what Clark already knew and adding to his mental picture of the counter.
He gave a slight nod.
“And his first name?” the woman asked, interrupting their secret exchange.
“Oh...” Lois said, sounding slightly flustered. “Honey, do you remember Mr. Smith’s first name? Sorry,” she continued, directing her next comment to the receptionist, “we always call him Mr. Smith.”
“Is it Steven?” Clark asked.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “There’s no Steven Smith here.”
“Oh, damn,” Lois said. “I’m sure I’d recognize the name if I heard it.”
“I can’t help you without a first name.”
“The name would be on our pay stubs,” Clark said.
“But that means we’d have to go all the way home,” Lois objected. “Please. Can’t you help us? Perhaps you could just give us the room numbers of all three men and we could find the right one. Save us the trip home.”
Clark suspected Lois had looked over at him on the last statement, silently pointing out to the receptionist that it would be difficult to make an extra trip home when she had to do so with a blind man. He fought back the urge to smile - she was shameless.
For a moment, the woman seemed to hesitate, but then she remembered her orders. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you a room number without a first name.”
That was his cue. He picked up his cane and, while turning as if to leave, dragged it across the top of the counter, knocking the coffee over so that it spilled across the papers.
“Oh no!” the woman gasped before beginning to move around frantically.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Clark said, reaching over as if trying to help, but knowing with every movement, he was actually hampering the woman’s efforts to limit the damage.
“My papers,” the woman exclaimed.
“Here. Let me help,” Clark said.
“No. No. That’s okay,” the woman said, trying to be polite about not wanting his assistance.
“Are you sure? I’m just so sorry. I lost my sight recently and sometimes I’m a little clumsy as a result. Just let me...”
“Come on, honey,” Lois said. “I think she’ll do better if you’re not helping.”
“Oh,” Clark said. “Well, if you’re sure...”
“Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” The woman sounded relieved at the prospect that he would no longer be helping.
At that point, Clark let Lois drag him towards the door. “Did you get it?” he whispered when he was sure they were far enough away to keep the woman from overhearing him.
“Rooms 342, 293 and 310.”
Clark smiled. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius?”
“Yes. But certainly not often enough.” She stopped then, glancing back at the receptionist, before taking them in a different direction. It was only when she opened a nearby door that he realized she’d led him into a stairwell.
* * * * * * * * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
