<<< Chapter Seven >>>
Martha bustled about in the kitchen, wiping down the counter for the fourth time. She forced herself to stop and step back to check the room once again, sure that she’d missed something which would either bother Rebecca or disappoint Clark.
But there was nothing out of place, nothing that marred the usual cheery welcome of her home. She almost wished for something that was out of place so she could pass the time doing something instead of just waiting.
Once again, she reviewed the preparations they’d made to accommodate Rebecca. There was the wooden ramp laid over one side of the steps leading up to the front porch, the telephone extension they’d installed in the sewing room beside the new hospital bed they’d rented, the metal handrails in the bathroom to assist Rebecca, and the new cell phone they’d bought so Rebecca would always be able to call someone. Again, there was nothing else in the house which would take up the time, the time that Martha wished she could spend doing instead of fretting.
She was so focused on her thoughts that she missed the sound of Superman and Ultra Woman landing in front of the house. The quick knock on the front door startled her into action and she bustled into the front room and readjusted the wheelchair for the fifth time.
She opened the door and smiled at the young woman in Superman’s arms. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Martha Kent, Clark’s mother. Please call me Martha. You must be Rebecca Connors. Please come in. I hope you like the place.”
The diminutive redhead smiled and nodded. “I’m sure I’ll love it, Mrs. Kent. I’m sorry, Martha. And thank you again for letting me crash into your lives. I just hope I don’t get in your way too often.”
Superman gently nestled her into the chair and checked the foot rests. “Is that comfortable, Rebecca?” he asked. “Are they too high or too low?”
She reached out and touched his cheek. “They’re made for Baby Bear. They’re just right.”
Ultra Woman had followed Superman into the room, and now she stood behind him holding two medium-sized suitcases and an overnight bag. “Can you show me where this goes, Martha?” she asked. “I’m sure you don’t want me to just dump it all on the floor.”
Martha smiled and turned toward the sewing room, which would be Rebecca’s room for the next few weeks. “Right in here. And I hope all of you are hungry. Jonathan should be in from the barn in a few minutes. He’s rarely late for any meal, and having a guest for late breakfast is right up his alley.”
Martha heard Clark say, “I told you Mom would be thrilled to have you here. Isn’t she great?”
Rebecca’s reply was inaudible, but the fact that Clark had felt it necessary to remind Rebecca at this late date that she’d be welcome worried Martha. She hoped the girl would relax soon. All they needed now was a nervous house guest, especially one with Rebecca’s medical needs.
*****
Lois put the suitcases down, then pulled her mask back from her face. “Phew. That thing gets just a teeny bit confining sometimes.”
Martha smiled at her. “I told you it would.” She opened one of the drawers in the dresser and glanced back at Lois. “Would you start handing me some clothes?”
Lois opened one of the suitcases and took out a stack of Rebecca’s undergarments. “I hope she likes the way you arrange her stuff.”
“If not, she’s more than welcome to rearrange it however it suits her.”
Lois heard a ‘whoosh’ and glanced through the wall to the living room. “Clark just changed into civilian clothes.” Then she chuckled. “And he’s taking Rebecca outside to show her around.”
“Why don’t you change too, Lois?”
“Well, I really wasn’t planning to stay. Unlike Clark, I’ve got some assignments to work on. And I have to go with Lucy this afternoon to help her register for her college classes. I think it’s dumb, but I’ve got to be there to verify that she’s got a real address and the money to pay her tuition. Otherwise she won’t be able to get enrolled as a resident of the state.”
Martha stopped putting clothes away and lifted up a tiny strand of material. “What on earth is this?”
Lois spluttered for a moment, then controlled herself. “That’s – um – a modern example of women’s underwear. A lot of people think it’s very stylish.”
“Like you?”
“No.” Lois frowned. “Not like me at all. I had to wear something like that last year when I was undercover at a strip club, and I was waiting tables, not dancing. That thing has less coverage than a cheap insurance policy.”
Martha glared at Lois for a moment, then shook her head. “It looks more like dental floss to me.”
This time Lois laughed aloud. Martha shook her head once more, then tucked the ‘floss’ into the back of the drawer. “I just hope she doesn’t ever let Clark see it.”
“Maybe she’s saving it for their wedding night.”
For a moment Lois wondered who’d said those words. Then she realized that she had.
She felt her face grow pale and she spread her feet for balance. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then did it again.
The sudden realization that Rebecca might marry Clark had stunned her more than she would have admitted. It left a hole in the pit of her stomach that threatened to engulf her heart.
She turned and sat on the edge of the bed, then felt Martha sit down next to her. “Lois, maybe you should say something to Clark about how you feel.”
Lois closed her eyes and shook her head. “He just brought Rebecca here so she could recover. I can’t get between them now.” She rubbed her face with one hand. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.”
Martha patted her shoulder. “And it’s not fair to you to deny what’s in your heart.”
Lois turned and looked through the wall, then smiled. “Clark just tried to slide down the ramp in front of the house in his sneakers. He got stuck on the surfacing and fell to the ground, then did a three-turn barrel roll down to the driveway. Rebecca is laughing so hard she’s grabbing her stomach. And Jonathan is leaning against the corner of the porch, laughing even harder.” She turned and faced her friend. “You really don’t expect me to break up something like that, do you?”
“Lois – “
“And you can never tell him! I want your word on this, Martha! You can’t tell him!”
“But – “
“No.” Lois held her hand up. “I mean it. I want your word on this.”
Martha chewed her lips for a moment, then said, “I wonder if Lana would have been this unselfish with Clark.”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to get between them. And I – I don’t want to hurt Clark. Not ever.”
Lois felt Martha looking into her eyes, rolling back her defenses and leaving her exposed and vulnerable. “From what little I’ve seen and from what I’ve heard from Clark – and from you – I doubt that Rebecca would have said what you did and meant it as much as you do.”
“Still so not the point! Please, Martha! This is really important to me.”
Martha took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally she nodded. “You have my word. I will not reveal your feelings to Clark in any way, shape, form, or fashion. If he finds out, you’ll be the one to tell him.”
Lois sighed and looked away. “Thank you. I – thank you.”
Martha sat still for a moment, then Lois heard a car approaching. “Someone’s coming.” She looked through the wall again. “It’s a sheriff’s department car. I think – yes, Rachel Harris is driving. And she’s alone.”
“My goodness, I wonder what she wants?”
Lois stood and pulled her mask back in place. “Let’s go find out.”
*****
Rachel watched Clark clowning for the young woman in the wheelchair as she stopped her car. They both seemed to be having fun, and Rachel wondered what was so hilarious.
Jonathan walked slowly in her direction, shaking his head and laughing as he came. It must have been a really good joke, thought Rachel. As she closed the car door, Martha stepped out of the house.
Then a frighteningly stunning young woman wearing a piece of the night sky came outside.
Rachel knew, without thinking about it, that she was not bad-looking, and had been described – on certain special occasions, when the light was low and her companion was being overly solicitous – as quite lovely. But compared to this woman, she was dowdy and frumpy and looked no better than a sow nursing a dozen piglets. She’d never even imagined herself looking as radiant and ravishing and strong as this woman, and she knew she never would.
Rachel hated her. Didn’t know her name or why she was there. Didn’t know why she was wearing a body suit made from a Van Gogh masterpiece. Didn’t matter. She hated her.
She managed to look around at the others in her view, and none of them, including Clark, who should have been tripping on his tongue, seemed to think anything was out of the ordinary. The woman had no apparent effect on any of them.
So, Rachel decided that this beautiful exhibitionist wouldn’t affect her, either.
She strode forward and smiled. “Howdy. How’s everything with y’all this fine day?”
Martha smiled and walked down the steps as Clark picked himself up off the ground. “Hello, Rachel. It’s good to see you. Is this a social call or a professional one?”
“A little of both. I heard in town that you folks are gonna have a house guest for a while, and I wanted to meet her and see if my office needed to do anything special for her.”
“I don’t think so. But let me introduce you to Rebecca Connors. Becca, this is Sheriff Rachel Harris. She’s an old friend of ours.”
Rachel touched her hat. “Good to meet you, ma’am.”
Rebecca pushed her wheelchair to the top of the ramp, and suddenly Clark was behind her, holding on and guiding the chair down to ground level. Rachel tried not to react, but she’d never seen anyone move as quickly as Clark had just then.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Sheriff,” said Rebecca. “How long have you known the Kents?”
“Oh, ‘bout since I was in diapers. My daddy was county sheriff for more’n twenty years before he retired and I got elected to follow him. In fact, Clark and I went to the junior prom together.”
The girl’s face changed as if she’d never heard that factoid and wasn’t sure how to take it. “Oh?” She paused for a moment, then continued. “You’ll have to tell me that tale some time. We’ll have a little girl talk session.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Clark’s face all but begging her to say nice things about him to Rebecca, and she almost smiled.
Then the stunning woman in black and silver stepped off the porch and floated down to –
She floated down to the ground.
From the porch.
Without stepping on anything.
And then she spoke in a low and melodic tone with a slightly stilted manner.
“Mr. Kent, Mrs. Kent, if there is no further need for my services, I must depart. Please do not hesitate to ask Clark to contact me should you require my assistance.”
Rebecca turned her chair to the woman. “Thank you, Ultra Woman. You’ve been a big help.”
Rachel blinked twice. This was the heroine who flew with Superman! And she was right in front of all of them! She was Rachel’s hero and she was about to leave!
“Wait!”
Ultra Woman paused and turned to face the sheriff. “Yes? Is there something with which I might assist you?”
“Uh – no. I mean yes! I mean – oh, fudge!”
Rachel felt her cheeks brighten as everyone but the costumed heroine tried to hide their amusement. But Ultra Woman stepped closer and said, “Sheriff, I must tell you that I admire you. It requires much from a woman to command the respect of men, especially when one is in law enforcement in a small town. I have learned these things as I have worked with Superman, and I am certain that you are exactly the person who should occupy your position at this time.” She reached out and gently took Rachel’s hand. “Thank you for serving your fellow citizens as you do.”
Rachel quickly searched the other woman’s eyes, her body language, her memory of those words for any hint that Ultra Woman was teasing her – or worse, mocking her – but she found no such hint. The words were sincere and her touch was both firm and soft.
So Rachel tightened her own grip and shook hands. “Thank you. What you just said – well, it was just about what I was trying to say to you.”
Ultra Woman’s stern expression softened and she smiled widely. “Thank you, Sheriff. I deeply appreciate it. But I believe that those who hazard their lives in service to others are the true heroes.” She released Rachel’s hand and inclined her head in the sheriff’s direction. “Should you require my assistance, please contact the Kents, and I will be at your service.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you get on about your business now.”
“It will go better now that we have met. Farewell.”
Then she stepped back and floated up into the sky, turned east, and rose out of sight.
Funny thing was, Rachel didn’t hate her any more.
Then she dropped her gaze to Clark and decided that he didn’t exactly hate Ultra Woman either. In fact, Rachel wished there was a young man in her life who looked at her with that expression on his face.
*****
Lois landed on the roof of the Daily Planet and spun into slacks, flats, blouse, and matching jacket. It helped her conceal her costume better than a dress or skirt.
She made eye contact with Perry as she pulled her chair back from her desk. He nodded to her, then redirected his attention to whatever was on his desk.
Time to go to work.
She opened the story file on Ultra Woman’s capture of the three home invaders and reviewed what she already had, then added two paragraphs about the victims using quotes from the police spokesperson. She frowned, then moved the new paragraphs further down in the story, knowing that Perry would prefer that her opinions appear on the op-ed page and not on page one below the fold.
She gave the story one more read-through, then saved the file and sent it to the editor’s inbox. As she opened her assignment folder, she sighed. She’d been putting this off too long. It was time.
She picked up the phone and called Lex.
He answered on the fifth ring. “Lex Luthor. I hope this is an urgent call.”
She tried to put a smile in her voice. “I hope so, too. Hello, Lex.”
At once, his manner changed. “Lois! I’m so very glad to hear from you. Where are you?”
“Where us working stiffs have to be most of the day, at work.”
He sighed. “I, too, am at work, but of course you know that because you called me here. I’m sorry, I’m a bit – snowed under at the moment. Rebecca’s replacement is competent, but she lacks Rebecca’s charm and skill in handling impatient people. And I have an interview scheduled with the district attorney immediately after lunch. He wants to know exactly what happened at Arianna’s house and why I sent my people out there.”
“I didn’t know about that.”
“You still don’t, not professionally. I don’t want any publicity on this until the DA has settled on a course of action.”
She hesitated, then said, “Well, I couldn’t cover it anyway. I’m involved in the story. But – ”
“Ah, yes, that’s true. Journalistic ethics can be useful at times.”
“What I was going to say was that my boss will be upset when he finds out I knew about this and didn’t tell him.” She hesitated again. “I have to tell him something, Lex.”
“I see,” he replied, his tone noticeably cooler. “Those ethics only stretch so far, I suppose.”
“Now that’s not fair! The Daily Planet has always dealt with you and your companies in an honest and open manner! And you’ve never asked me to violate those ethics before now because of our relationship!”
He was silent for a long moment, and Lois thought he might hang up. Then he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, my dear. You’re quite right, and I apologize. This has not been a good week for me.”
“I understand, Lex, really I do. How about I ask Perry to send someone to the DA’s office without telling him exactly what’s going on? I can just say that I know there’ll be something very important happening.”
She could almost hear him biting his lip as he thought about it. “Very well. I will grant an interview with this person, assuming he or she is competent and is not a nuisance to me.”
“Okay, that leaves out Ralph.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. I’ll suggest either Eduardo or Dave. Either of them will fit the bill.”
“I shall look for them.” He stopped, and Lois sensed that he wanted to say more, so she waited. “Lois, I would like to ask you a personal question.”
Uh-oh, she thought. “Go ahead.”
“Asabi is participating in a martial arts tournament this weekend, and while he has not specifically mentioned it to me, I’m certain that he would very much like for me to be there to watch. Do you think you might be able to get away for a few hours on Saturday afternoon?”
“Uh. Sure. In fact, that sounds like a really good idea. What time?”
“I will have to call you back with the particulars. My office has just been invaded by a barbaric horde of razor-fanged land sharks.”
“What?”
“My corporate lawyers wish to speak with me.”
She laughed. “Okay, we’ll talk later. Call me on my cell phone. I’ll be out of the office this afternoon with Lucy. She’s registering for school, and yes, I’ll tell you all about it when you call. Bye for now.”
“Thank you, my dear. Good-bye.”
She hung up the phone and smiled. He really wasn’t a bad guy to be around. He had a pretty good heart and was mostly honest.
If only he hadn’t tried to capture Arianna on his own. He should have left it to the police. And now his actions threatened to come between them.
She pushed back from her desk and walked toward her boss’ office. A tip like this would make for a solid follow-up piece. She only hoped Lex wouldn’t come out looking too much like a wannabe third-world dictator.
~~~
Hey, J!
Wow. I didn’t realize it had been this long between journal entries, so I’ll have to bring you up to date. I got shot and
Sorry. That was hard to write. Let me try again.
That tall scary dude who works for – used to work for Mr. Luthor, that Nigel St. John guy, shot me. We were – that is, Clark and Lois and Mr. Luthor and I were on a weekend boating trip in the Atlantic and Nigel called us on the radio to get us to stop so he could find us and when he got there he pulled out a gun and told us he was going to kill all of us and he had some kind of green rock that
Sorry, can’t tell you that part. Anyway, he shot Lois in the hand and hit Clark with his gun and then he shot me and Ultra Woman took me to the hospital and I almost died and
You know, I’m going to have to learn to finish my sentences. Even if they’re saying really scary things.
I obviously didn’t die. But they told me it was a close call. And I learned something about Clark that – I don’t know what it means. But it’s a big, big thing, J, a huge, monstrous, ginormous thing, and it isn’t bad and it explains a whole lot of stuff, but it makes a difference to me. It changes things between us, really big time. And I don’t know what kind of difference yet, or how big a difference, but I know it changes things between us.
I’m resting here in Clark’s parents’ farmhouse, doing my recuperating and after-surgery therapy. There’s a physical therapist who’s going to come over every day for the next ten days to help me walk properly and do some exercises to get my abdominal muscle tone back. Jonathan and Martha – that’s Clark’s parents’ names – are great people and I hope I don’t get in their way too much. They both told me I’m welcome to stay as long as I need to, and I believe them, but I’m just not comfortable on a working farm. I’m a marine biologist at heart, and the closest thing they have here to marine life is the bullfrogs in their cattle pond. I just don’t do cows and chickens very well.
I love Clark. I told him so, and I told him before I learned his big secret and after I learned it. I really do love him, J, but I don’t know if he loves me the same way. I want to go to sleep next to him, wake up next to him, come home from studying marine life to find him there waiting for me. With dinner already cooked and a warm bubble bath drawn just for me.
That’s kinda silly, I know, but that’s what I want. That’s almost as important to me as getting that PhD and becoming famous. I’d much rather have all that than have a bunch of kids running around my feet screaming for toys or snacks, and if I had to choose between the PhD and marrying Clark then I think I’d – well – ooh, I don’t know what I’d do!
It’s scary, J. Sometimes I think I’d take the doctorate and the fame and sometimes I think I’d take Clark and sometimes I just don’t know. And I always argue with myself over it, no matter which choice I make in my head.
I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens. Maybe a rock will fall out of the sky with a note wrapped around it to tell me what to do. Or maybe Clark will decide he wants to marry me and follow me all over the world to help me in my career.
And maybe that rock will hit me in the head and wake me up. Or kill me, which would solve all those problems, wouldn’t it?
Good grief. I need to stop thinking such depressing thoughts.
I just reread this entry and I must be more wiped out than I thought. I wrote Clark’s and Lois’ names together instead of Clark’s with mine. Boy, I’m really tired.
Good night, J. The therapist is coming tomorrow morning and I need my sleep.
*****
“She’s asleep now, honey. She’s exhausted.”
Clark nodded. “Thanks, Mom. I didn’t want to leave the house while she was awake. I thought she might need me.”
Martha smiled back, and Clark thought he caught a gleam of something he couldn’t identify in her eye. “Don’t worry. Your father and I will listen for her.”
“Okay, okay. I just need to make a quick patrol in Metropolis. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know you will. Are you patrolling with Lois?”
“Not on purpose. She had a lunch date with Lex Luthor today, and I don’t know how late it ran.”
“Really? I thought you two could – “ and she wiggled her fingers beside her head.
“Not unless it’s important. I don’t butt into her private life and she doesn’t butt into mine.” He leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I won’t be too late.”
“Have a good patrol, Clark.”
He grinned at her and floated to the back door, then slowly opened it as he scanned the area. As he’d expected, the few neighbors who were close enough to see the farmhouse were down for the evening. Rebecca’s therapist was coming by at ten the next morning, and even though Clark didn’t have to sleep that much, he was tired and needed at least six hours solid snoozing.
Early night midweek patrols were usually fairly uneventful, and Clark found himself wishing for one of those nights tonight. It had been his fault that Rebecca had been shot. Never mind that he’d been incapacitated by that green rock, or that Nigel St. John had taken the opportunity to pistol-whip him. He was Superman. He wasn’t supposed to lose. He wasn’t supposed to fail.
The patrol was done before one AM and he headed back toward Kansas. He was tired and he knew he’d be up relatively early the next day, but he felt that there was something he needed to do before he ended his day.
He needed to talk to Bob.
The mechanism in the floor of the barn still worked as smoothly and as silently as it had the first day he’d installed it. Bob couldn’t see him, of course, but he still felt funny in the red and blue outfit, so he spun back to jeans and t-shirt.
Bob still rested in his rack, but there was something new underneath him, something that the specifications Bob had downloaded to their household computer hadn’t contained. He knelt down to get a closer look.
Then he chuckled. It was a cheap necklace supporting a small heart-shaped pendant which read, “I am Bob. If found, please return me to Kent Farm.”
That had to be Lois’ doing. Of the few people who knew about Bob, only she would do something so frivolous and winsome.
He put his hand under the globe and waited for a response.
*****
<< Greetings, Kal-El. >>
Sorry, no, just Clark.
<< As you wish. How may I assist you, just Clark? >>
Funny. I see you’ve been taking comedy lessons from Lois.
<< She has commented on my growing understanding of humor. For example, I believe I understand why the small chain she has looped around my support base is humorous. It is because I am extremely unlikely to wander away from the farm and require a rescue. I believe that this would be classed as ironic humor. >>
I’m surprised you don’t have a rabies tag, too.
<< I inquired about that, but Lois stated that it might be a bit over the top, as she put it. As it happens, your mother agrees with that sentiment. I believe she is something of a minimalist in her sensibilities. >>
In that case, I bow to the general wisdom and discretion of those fine ladies.
<< I sense your sarcasm, but I do not believe it is at all mean-spirited, only very mildly sardonic. >>
You got it. Hey, how do you feel about having a name tag?
<< I do not ‘feel’ anything in the conventional sense. I have no objection, if that is what you mean. While it does not contribute to my efficiency, neither does it interfere with my general function, nor does it introduce a source of corrosion to my frame. Therefore I have no reason to protest its location. >>
Looks cute on you. Anyway, I wanted to touch base with you on a few things.
<< Of course. Would you prefer to begin with a financial review? >>
No, I’d rather – wait, yeah, let’s do the financials now. I haven’t gone over that with you lately.
<< It has been one year, two months, six days – >>
Fine! I admit it, I’ve been a bad boy.
<< That was not my point, Clark. I only wish to be accurate. >>
Let’s just get to the bottom line.
<< Very well. The bottom line includes your own personal savings at the Bank of Metropolis, the payments LexCorp has been making to a separate savings account at the Smallville Bank and Trust, and the discretionary set aside for your personal use by the Superman Foundation. That total comes to nine hundred fifteen thousand three hundred twelve dollars, pending the end of trading on the European stock exchanges. >>
Wh – what?
<< Nine hundred fifteen thousand – >>
No! I heard you, I just – you mean I’m almost a millionaire?
<< In the absence of specific instructions from you, I have taken the liberty of investing in a number of businesses and funds which have produced returns far beyond the norm. Since your mandate to me with regard to these funds was to ‘take care of my money,’ I have invested to produce the maximum return for minimal risk. If this situation does not suit your needs or sensibilities, I can liquidate your holdings over a short period of time and donate whatever percentage you specify to the charity or charities of your choosing. >>
Yeah, I – wait! I didn’t mean for you to do that!
<< I have not. I was merely informing you of your options. I should also inform you that the total I quoted you does not include the money under the control of Digger Enterprises. That fund currently contains two hundred forty-six thousand three dollars. >>
Wow! How’d you accumulate so much dough there?
<< Low overhead. >>
Low – wait, that’s a joke, right?
<< That was another attempt at humor, yes. You appeared to need a laugh. >>
You are learning. And that was actually pretty funny, in a Vaudeville kind of way. Seriously, though, where did all that cash come from?
<< Some fifty thousand came from the Superman Foundation. Much of the rest has come from various museums and other dealers in antiquities who wish to find this pottery shard or that sarcophagus. About ten percent of it has come from small investments I have made, but I do not believe that it is the mission of Digger Enterprises to accumulate wealth. At the moment, the board of directors is reviewing three separate grant applications, which, if all are approved, will take the fund’s balance below the thirty thousand dollar level. Do you wish to know the specifics of those applications? >>
No, that’s not necessary. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, I guess. It’s working.
<< I shall. Is there anything else you wish to discuss? >>
Um – well – now that you mention it – yeah.
<< Very well. What is the nature of this discussion? >>
Personal, I guess.
<< You are aware that as an artificial intelligence I lack experience in inter-personal matters? >>
You did fine with Lana.
<< In retrospect, I am uncertain if that is true. During my last conversation with her, Lana expressed regret for some of the actions she undertook with my assistance. >>
What were – no, don’t tell me. If she didn’t fill me in, I can’t expect you to break her confidences.
<< You and she were married. By the laws and customs of this nation and its various states, as well as the laws and customs of Krypton, I would not violate any confidences were I to reveal my dealings with her. Besides, from a legal standpoint, I am merely a machine and cannot make rational decisions, much less legal or moral ones. >>
Maybe so, but don’t tell me anyway. Unless she left a message with you to give me later on.
<< I have no such message from Lana to you, Clark. My apologies. >>
No problem. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Rebecca.
<< Very well. What do you wish to share with me? >>
Um, I kinda wanted to get your opinion on whether or not she and I should get married.
<< I repeat, that is not a subject with which I am at all familiar. I have no expertise relating to human relationships. >>
So, Ann Landers you’re not?
<< No. And I see that you are not above attempting to inject a bit of humor in our discussion. >>
I guess not. The therapist I’m seeing told me that sometimes I use humor to mask my real feelings.
<< Judging by my own research on the subject, that appears to be a statement which might apply to most humans. >>
Well. Anyway, I – Rebecca and I have been talking about getting married.
<< Is this an outcome which you desire? >>
Um – I don’t know.
<< Were I a therapist, I would ask you to expand upon that statement. >>
Well – I feel responsible for her, for what’s happened to her, for her getting hurt. And I feel responsible for her recovery.
<< Interesting. Are you responsible for her injuries? Did you point a firearm at her and pull the trigger? Did you board that boat with any intent to cause her injury? >>
Of course not! I just – I’m Superman!
<< Indeed, you are. But not even Superman is without limits. >>
I – Lois has told me that several times.
<< That is something she has related to me. And it is something with which Lana tried to deal also, but I have the distinct impression that she felt she did not succeed in this endeavor. >>
Why?
<< Why do I have that impression or why did she feel that way? >>
Why did she feel that way?
<< I cannot be certain, but I believe it was because she considered herself inadequate to be the wife of a superhero. More than once she asked me how to convince you that you were not only doing the right things for the right reasons, you were having a positive impact on the city of Metropolis as well as on the entire world, just through your example. >>
Really? Wow. I – didn’t know she felt that way.
<< She informed me of that also. I believe she was trying to hide her feelings of inadequacy while learning how to be more adequate. Apparently she was successful, at least where you are concerned. >>
But she wasn’t inadequate. I – I loved her.
<< And she never doubted that fact, at least as far as I am aware. She hoped you knew how much she loved you. >>
Yeah. I did.
<< Good. I also believe that Lana felt as if she sometimes held you back from having an even greater impact on the world. >>
Huh. Didn’t know that either. Do you think that’s true, that she held me back?
<< My opinion on that subject is irrelevant, Clark. But no, I do not believe she held you back. I believe that she provided an anchor for you, a sense of reality and a place which you could call home. This is very important to the humans of Earth, and my archival data indicates that Kryptonians felt much the same. To be clinical about your marriage to her, she provided a service to you whose benefit to you far exceeded the cost to her. >>
Ecch. That really is clinical. Um, can we go back to my original question?
<< Very well. Let me ask you a question in return. The thought of spending your life with Lana is a pleasant one, is it not? Despite the brevity of your marriage? >>
Of course it is.
<< I did not doubt it, Clark, I merely wished for you to be aware of it. Now please answer this question. Does the thought of spending your life with Rebecca generate similar pleasures within you? >>
Uh – well – I –
<< Please do not attempt to temporize with me. I am able to discern when you are not being truthful. >>
Uh – okay. Well, she and I – we have fun – we laugh together – she’s smart and witty and she says she loves me –
<< You are temporizing. My question was not about her feelings or expectations for your relationship, it was about your feelings and expectations. I repeat, and only because you introduced the subject into this conversation, does the thought of spending your life with Rebecca – >>
I’ll have to get back to you on that, Bob.
*****
With that thought, Clark all but yanked his hands away from the globe. Then he stepped back and stared at the wall.
He’d asked for it. He’d asked Bob for his opinion. And it had felt like a therapy session, not quite the way Dr. Friskin would carefully and subtly dig under his answers for the unvarnished truth in his mind and heart, but a session nonetheless. Bob would make a good radio shrink, even if he was a bit abrupt.
And Clark still didn’t have the answer for his relationship with Rebecca – or, more honestly, he didn’t want to face the answer.
