Notes:
Before the start of this part a few explanatory notes.
< and > will be used from now on to bracket thoughts.
when you see -- it indicates a change in scene, which usually corresponds with a change in whose point-of-view we are following.
***
Where we left off last time“How about your hopes, Jo?” Clark asked, “Where do you want me to spend most of my time.”
“In my…” Jo began, but then paused as a blush went over her checks. “In my school's uniform, or course.” Clark suspected that was not what she initially meant to say, otherwise why start over. Although he had no clue what she might have been initially going to say. “However, I’m just a hostess, don’t worry what I think.”
“But I do care what you think,” Clark put in. Maybe he should not show how much he felt for Jo. He would stop pressing with that comment he decided.
“Well, that is not the point right now,” Jo said. “The point is that Professor Manheim is the one who really knows journalism. He is the one who took special note of your recent most article in the Smallville Post. He seems to have read just about everything you have written there. Manheim is a major supporter of the Smallville Post, mainly because he was so impressed with the work that got them a Pulitzer back in the 1960s. I on the other hand, as I mentioned before, had not even heard of Smallville, let alone that paper, until less than a week ago, so don’t expect me to be giving you grand guidance yet.”
“So I can expect grand guidance when you have had time to form a clearer opinion on the matter,” Clark said, with a smile, hoping to move away from being too serious. If their talk got too serious Jo might decide to take her arm away from being wrapped around his.
“Maybe I will at some point. It will still only matter if you care about what I think,” Jo said.
“I care about what you think though,” Clark said.
“That’s sweet to say, Clark,” Jo said, patting him on the right arm, with her right hand, the hand she was not using to hold his left arm already. “However what matters is the thoughts of the people who control the program, like Professor Manheim. He thinks you have great potential. Getting back to the itinerary for tomorrow, after visiting Manheim we will also visit the library, and at least touch on a bunch of other buildings, such as the buildings used for a lot of general education classes and some of the various Med School buildings, on our way over to the football stadium. We’ll visit the General Education buildings because you will attend classes there. The Med School ones because the way to the football field is to cut through the Med School. Why this is, I am not sure. It may be so that injured players know they can get good treatment quickly. Whatever the reason, I might as well explain the buildings we actually pass, because tours without explanation are boring.”
Clark could think of interesting things to do with Jo on tour that did not involve her talking, yet still involved her mouth, but he was trying to drive thoughts of them out of his mind. On the other hand, the mention of Med School buildings made him wonder if they would have a chance to learn anything about the Samuel Lane Sports Medicine Building. He was still interested in discovering more about Lois Lane, and he figured that might be a place to start. There might be a place that at least listed, or made mention of, the names of Dr. Lane’s two daughters. Actually, Jo might know the answer already, depending on how much she knew about the people for whom the Met U buildings were named. Now, how should he go about figuring out how much she did know?
***
Part 7“Do you know much about the people the buildings and schools at Met U are named after, like Mary Hatch Bailey, Lex Luthor, and James Whitecotton?” Clark asked.
“Do you actually want me to answer your question about Oakley, or are you going to keep on bringing up other things to distract me?” Jo asked, with a little laugh, showing she wasn’t bothered by this.
“I want to know about both,” said Clark, as he withdrew his arm to better access his wallet. “I may have also asked it, so you would have a reason to stay here when I took my arm out of your grip.”
“Well, now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go!” Jo said, grabbing hold of his arm again with a big grin.
Clark looked at her in shock.
“I mean, now that I found my football recruit at the airport, I’m not letting you get lost. That’s it. I didn’t mean anything more. Not at all. It didn’t mean what it sounded like,” Jo rattled off, letting go of his arm as she started to blush.
As Jo said this, Clark noticed her heart rate had also picked up when she had realized what she had said. Maybe that was a good sign. Having extra-strong hearing did have some advantages.
“You were going to tell me about the people for whom some Met U buildings were named,” Clark said, deciding it was best to move away from more personal topics.
“Sounds good to me,” Jo responded, exhaling with relief. “So here’s the description of the three people you asked about before. Let me start with James Whitecotton. He was one of America’s leading linguists, and a major promoter of the Department of Linguistics at Met U. The fact that anyone even considered giving the Linguistics Department their own building is largely a result of his pushing for it. The building was funded by a donation from Bill Church, founder of Cost Mart. Whitecotton was not only the first African-American head of the American Linguistics Society, he was also the first African-American to have a Met U building named after him. He was an expert on Austronesian Languages.”
“Such as Malay and Hawaiian,” he put in, to show that he knew what she meant. He was glad he had fully shifted his ears to listening to what she was saying as this sounded very interesting.
“Well, he did know those,” she said, “But his main specialty was lesser known Austronesian languages spoken in various parts of China and India, especially Blang, which is spoken in a small section of south-west China.”
“Can you wait just a second to explain the rest?” Clark asked as they finally reached the snack counter.
After he ordered Jo some chocolate-covered raisins, they sat down at the furthest out table in the snack area, to continue their conversation. This put them right next to the corridor where people would pass by on their way from the arrival gates where the two other football players were expected to disembark. The table they chose was a small table, built only for two people. They sat directly across from each other, which gave Clark a nice view of Jo’s cleavage. He tried hard not to see more than necessary, so he kept his gaze focused on her face. As he stared at either her deep chocolate eyes or her ruby red, inviting lips too long, he found his mind once more wandering to places he didn’t want it to go, so he focused most on her nose.
When he had asked how her co-workers would find them, Jo had pointed out that her brightly colored suit, which she told him Met U issued to all hostesses, would be easy for them to spot even in the heavily crowded Metropolis International Airport. Since the other hostesses were wearing matching suits, even the incoming recruits would know what to look for.
“The only other major fact about Professor Whitecotton that I know is that he was killed in a bridge collapse just before he was to testify before the Metropolis Grand Jury investigating the alleged head of the most powerful organized crime syndicate in Metropolis, known as ‘The Boss’. `The Boss’ is a man whose very existence is not universally accepted and whose identity is known to virtually no one … if he really does exist,” Jo said, returning to the topic they’d been discussing. “I learned one other fact recently. Professor Whitecotton was also Juquan Oakley’s uncle.”
“The detail of Whitecotton being Okaley’s uncle means it makes even less sense that they would bring him here on tour. Did the bridge collapse as a result of a natural disaster, or was there human involvement?” Clark asked.
“I don’t know what caused the collapse,” Jo admitted. “I hate to say it, but I hadn’t even known how Whitecotton had died until yesterday.”
“Well, I don’t expect you to actually know everything. I must say, though, you’ve already exceeded my expectations of what any guide would know by what you’ve told me just about Professor Whitecotton,” Clark responded with a wink. He hoped he wasn’t being too bold. On the other hand, he hoped he’d worded it to avoid any implication that he had less than top-notch expectations for Jo. Some men might say that beautiful women were less intelligent, but Jo exceeded Lana in both those categories by several orders of magnitude, so there was really no comparison at all. “I’ll be quiet now, so you can answer all the questions I’ve bombarded you with.”
“Before I continue,” Jo said, with a nudge to his arm. “Would you like some of these chocolate-covered raisins you got me? It’s a fairly large bag, and I’m afraid I might spoil my dinner if I eat all of them.”
“Well, I’ll try just a few, but tell me if I’m taking too many,” Clark said, as he reached in, and took out one. “I got them for you, so I want you to get as many as you want.”
“If I was worried about you taking too many I wouldn’t have offered,” Jo said. Then she took a deep breath, causing Clark to avert his eyes. “I really like this chocolate. Getting back to your earlier question, the next person you asked about was Lex Luthor. He’s the person for whom Met U’s Medical School is named, and is the founder of Lex Computers, Lex Labs, Lexaid…”
“I know about Lexaid,” Clark cut in. “They recently bought out a drug store chain in Kansas, so we now have a Lexaid in Smallville. I also know of Lex Comp, though I prefer Word Perfect to their word processor.”
“Me too, but mainly because I avoid spending into Luthor’s growing financial empire if I have a choice,” Jo said, while giving him a friendly smile. “So, if you know about Luthor, why did you ask?”
<Oh no, she thinks that I assumed she’s unintelligent. My comment about being impressed with her knowledge could be seen as an assumption that she knows little no matter how much I tried to avoid that impression. I see her as so much more than just a pretty face, even if hers is by far the prettiest I’ve ever seen. I don’t want her to think I’m avoiding asking the difficult questions. Whatever she thinks, I need to act quickly to set her straight, and make sure she knows I value our conversation.>
“Well,” he began, stalling. He gave her a big smile as he used all his brainpower to figure out what he should say next, and was reassured to see Jo smile back. “I wanted to hear how you would describe these people. I was hoping you would explain why they were chosen to have these places named after them. Were they a famous alum, a major donor or an eminent professor? You did a wonderful job on answering these questions for Professor Whitecotton, even though I didn’t explain clearly that these are the questions I wanted answered. I didn’t know anything about him before.”
“Well, Luthor’s only connection to Met U is donating lots of money.” From her tone, Clark could tell Jo didn’t think this was a good way to name university institutions. “Well, his late wife was a student there, but he never was. Is that enough information on Luthor to meet what you wanted to learn about him?”
“Yes, it is. I’m ready to move onto the next topic if you are,” Clark said. “I really do enjoy talking with you, Jo.” Their fingers touched as Clark reached into the bag to get another chocolate-covered raisin.
“The same here,” Jo said, leaving her fingers against Clark’s longer than was really necessary to get more raisins. “There was one other person you asked about…” She paused and removed her fingers from the bag. “Mary Hatch Bailey, right?” After Clark nodded in response she continued, “I’m sure you’ve at least watched the film based on her semi-fictionalized biography of her husband, which like her book is entitled
It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“At least once a year. Although, I’ve read her book too,” he responded. “With all the power Matthew Lang has in Smallville, some days, I feel like I’m living that tale myself. Although I have no one like Mary back in Smallville, nor am I anywhere near as good as George Bailey.”
Jo smiled at that statement, and added, “Don’t sell yourself short.”
He loved her smile and wished he could find a way so that he would never have to be without it again. “Let’s get back to talking about Mrs. Bailey, and not about me.”
“Well, Mary Hatch was a graduate of Met U.,” Jo said as she reached in for more raisins, as Clark picked out his third, causing their fingers to again touch. “Specifically, she was a graduate of Met U’s Library Science program, in fact in that program’s first graduating class. She’s still the most celebrated graduate of the library science program the school has ever had, even if she was only the Bedford Falls librarian for three months.”
“I thought it was just in George’s vision of an altered reality that she had that job,” Clark said.
“Don’t be silly, Clark,” Jo teased, which told him that she was enjoying his cross comments. “The library job was primarily how she earned enough money to make the down payment on the old Grandville House without George knowing what she was doing. The Mary Hatch Bailey School was so named in 1951, and both George and Mary spoke at the dedication. It was George’s first long-distance journey out of Bedford Falls.”
“Did Mary Bailey ever write for Met U's paper, the
Scroll?” Clark asked.
“Technically no,” Jo responded. “However, Mary
Hatch wrote a few small articles for the
Scroll.”
He laughed. “Oops, point to you.”
“Your method of referring to her probably would work,” Jo said. “Now, I’ve put off long enough answering your question about Juquan Oakley and why he’s coming on the tour. I don’t really know, but I suppose I might as well tell you my guess. Since Juquan is twenty-three, it seems likely the head of recruitment wanted him here as a more mature person to balance out you young rowdy types.” She gave him a wink at this point, telling him she didn’t really believe that. “This perception is probably helped since he was on a mission for the Mormon Church from when he was age nineteen to twenty-one. So Coach Targon and his associates seem to think that Oakley can have a restraining or calming influence on the generally more wild tendencies of seventeen-year-old boys.”
“I can being wild, if you want” Clark said with a slight laugh. “But I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”
--
The scary thing to Lois was that she realized part of her hoped Clark really was daring, because that part wanted to do more than just touch his hand. No amount of saying her Jo persona was just a cover for her investigation could explain all her feelings she felt as she interacted with Clark.
Still, she told herself her main goal of her flirtatious behavior was to make it so Clark would invite her to go with him to any semi-official after-party he was invited to with some of the current Met U football players. It might even involve all of the recruits, minus the married and tee totaling Juquan. Not that the other recruits were supposed to be drinking alcohol, but Lois knew full well that liquor laws were routinely ignored.
She had considered telling Clark the truth when he mentioned loving Lois’s writing, but decided to wait before revealing her real identity. <I’ll never be able to eat chocolate-covered raisins again without thinking of Clark’s charming smile.> Still, she wanted to keep him on his toes a little bit.
“Just be who you are Clark, don’t try to act as someone else,” Lois said. “Let’s go and try to find the others.” It was time to move on before their conversation again almost went where it had been headed when she made that statement about not letting go.
“Can I throw that away for you?” Clark asked motioning to the now empty bag of raisins.
She gladly handed it to him. As she watched him walk away, it crossed her mind that she hadn’t really answered his question about their itinerary for tomorrow. She decided that she could tell him about that in the van on the way to Met U.
When Clark returned, Lois stood up before he could reach out a hand to help her up. Touching Clark did weird things to her ability to think, so she would have to avoid doing too much of it. This time, as they walked, they just moved next to each other, but not arm in arm. She had decided their earlier proximity had been too much, too fast. Although, she did occasionally brush her arm against Clark’s as they walked, but that didn’t really count because both of them had on jackets. She noticed he also seemed to brush his arm against hers as well. <This rush I feel when my arm brushes against Clark’s means nothing.>
“So, you mentioned you’ll give me the morning tour. I was wondering, will you be the one guiding me around, once we get to the football stadium?” Clark asked as they headed towards the gate. His smile told Lois that was exactly what Clark wanted to happen.
“Nope, Coach Targon thinks he and his associates understand that process more than I do,” Lois replied, giving Clark a friendly nudge. “However, I doubt many of them can tell you that originally the Jaguars played in a small stadium that has since been knocked down for the expansion of the Lex Luthor School of Medicine. It was only under Targon’s predecessor, Coach Fignoli, that the Jaguars became a true powerhouse in the football world. They are hoping to soar to new heights with your excellent passing abilities.”
She noticed that Clark got a strained look as she said this, and even an additional nudge didn’t remove it. Maybe he was more worried about living up to expectations as a top-star in football than she expected.
“I thought we were going to do a practice at the stadium,” Clark said. “In my information packet, it said something about how this was to help us get a feel for the team, and the coaches get a feel for us. And, Jo, are you saying you’re good at football too?”
“Well, maybe Targon and his associates know more about football,” Lois conceded. “I think you would enjoy it more if I was among the people you got to touch during practice.” She gave him a big smile with this line.
“Well, you don’t quite look the football type, Jo,” Clark said, with a laugh. “I’m sure you could do well in some positions. The thing is the current theory is people need to just be plain big, and big is not a word I would use for you. Although, I’m sure with practice you would do great. What sports do you like?”
“Mainly tennis and karate,” Lois said, accidentally brushing her leg against Clark’s. This time it really was an accident. “Unless you count chess. I am the star of my school’s chess club.”
“If you say it’s a sport, I’ll accept that it’s a sport,” Clark said.
Lois suspected Clark would agree to anything she said right now. Evidently her flirting really was working.
“So, Met U has a chess club,” Clark continued. “I like chess, but have never played it competitively. Maybe I will try out for the chess club. Do they turn many people away?”
Lois had to think up what she knew about the Met U chess club. Maybe she should tell Clark that her school was not yet Met U. Part of her thought, <and it will probably never be.> Another part thought, <four years of classes with Clark would be wonderful.> After taking a calming breath she was able to refocus on the issue at hand, what she knew about the Met U chess club.
“They have multiple levels, so that anyone who wants to do chess can find a place to participate within the various levels.” She wasn’t sure, but that was the impression she’d gotten the one or two times she’d talked chess with Met U students. <It won’t matter too much what I say anyway. It’s not like he’ll remember every detail of every conversation we have this weekend.>
“Sounds like I should at least try to make time in my schedule for it,” Clark said, giving her a wink. “Let’s get back to talking about tomorrow. So, will I see you again after we part at the football stadium?”
“Not for a while. I have most of the afternoon off, and will be busy with other things. New Troy state laws require over-time pay when people go over eight hours on the job in one day, so Met U wants to keep my hours per day as low as possible,” Lois said. “Not that spending time with you feels at all like work, but that’s what my boss insists on.”
“So when will I see you again?” Clark asked.
“I’ll be at the football game, which starts at six. You have free time scheduled between four and just before six. They’re giving you food at the game, so don’t worry about dinner. Well, unless you really detest stadium food. We’ll sit together at the stadium, so you’ll get to see if I understand football or not. We can also see each other during the dance.”
“I’d like that,” Clark said with a smile.
Lois bet he would. Probably more than just see her, and she had to admit dancing with him sounded like a good idea as well.
End of Part 7To be continued...
