Author's note: This chapter references events in the 1978 movie "Superman".
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The soft candlelight reflected off Perry's water goblet and put an extra sparkle into Alice's eyes. The attentive waiter removed their dessert plates – Alice had ordered the mousse au chocolat, Perry opting for the Black Forest Torte.
Perry caressed the small box in his pocket. A ring nestled within. Alice and he had had a comradely meal, reminiscing about the good times of their marriage, tacitly ignoring the bad times. Perry's heart swelled. This dinner only confirmed that Alice was the woman for him.
Her contralto died off. Perry hadn't really been listening to her for the last few minutes, just taking in the beauty of her face in the candlelight. He patted the ring box in his pocket one last time for good luck and leaned forward.
"Alice?"
"Yes, Perry?"
He leaned a little closer. The mood was set. Alice still had feelings for him, he could tell. She seemed disposed to give him another chance. Now that he was sober…Perry opened his mouth to ask her.
His phone rang.
"Damn!" he leaned back. Why hadn't he turned off his phone? He'd figured that telling everyone, pointedly, at the Planet that he was not to be disturbed unless aliens landed or nuclear war broke out would have been sufficient. He'd figured that Morris, the night editor, could handle things. Obviously, he'd figured wrong.
The phone rang again.
Alice raised her eyebrows. "Are you going to get that?" She expected him to, apparently.
Perry sighed and flipped the phone open. It was the Daily Planet.
"This better be an emergency," he growled into the phone.
John Morris' voice was apologetic. "I'm sorry to bother you, Perry. It is an emergency."
"So what was it that you had to disturb me at dinner for?" Perry asked.
"Lois Lane was supposed to interview the President tonight…" Morris began.
"Supposed to?" Perry asked.
"Her helicopter crashed, she was unconscious, they rushed her to the hospital. Now she's awake, but the doctors won't let her go. You're the one listed as the contact in her medical files. They didn't have a number for you, so they called the Planet. She's squawking, the medics are screaming back, and they'll only release her into your custody."
"Tell her to stay there till tomorrow morning," Perry said curtly. "They'll let her out then."
"I told her that already, Perry," Morris pleaded. "She told me to tell you she has to get out now, there's a Pulitzer story in it."
"A Pulitzer?" Perry asked, his interest whetted.
Across the table, Alice's face fell.
"She told me to tell you that. Pulitzer, no doubt," Morris persisted. Perry, despite his anger at the ill-timed interruption, felt a reluctant sympathy for him, caught between the Scylla of Perry's emphatic instructions and the Charybdis of Lois Lane at full rant.
"How's the helicopter crew?" Perry asked belatedly, only now hearing what the man had said minutes ago. "The helicopter crashed?"
"The pilot's at the hospital too, unconscious," John Morris replied. "The helicopter is damaged, we don't know how bad yet."
Perry thought for a moment. He looked across at Alice. She was fiddling with her nails. The moment had passed. He put his hand over his phone and said sotto voce to her, "Lois is in the hospital."
A wave of concern crossed Alice's face. She knew and liked Lois Lane. "She needs you?" At Perry's nod, she ordered, "You go there, Perry!"
Perry took his hand off his phone. "OK, I'll be there," he told Morris.
Morris couldn't disguise the relief he felt. "Metropolis General," he told Perry. "She's probably still in the ER."
"OK," Perry said, and terminated the call. He stood up, gesturing for the waiter to bring the check. He tossed his credit card on the tray.
"I'm sorry, honey," he said. And he was.
"Perry, you just go and take a look at Lois," Alice said. Perry found that one of Alice's most endearing characteristics – how she cared about others, even when it upset her own plans. "You make sure she's all right."
Perry leaned over to kiss Alice. The waiter coughed gently and presented the credit slip. Perry swore mentally and leaned back. He added a generous tip, and scribbled his name. "I'll see you later, honey?" he appealed.
"Call me," Alice said wanly.
"OK," Perry said, turning and walking to the exit, the lure of a Pulitzer-worthy story in his blood. He strode rapidly to the parking lot. Reaching into his pocket to get his keys, he felt the ring box once again. He looked back at the restaurant, stood silently just a moment, then got into his car and drove to Metropolis General Hospital.
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"A flying man?" Perry asked incredulously. "Lois, are you sure you didn't get hit on the head? Are you hallucinating? Did those doctors check you out all the way?"
"I only fainted," Lois said in irritation. "Listen, Perry, I know how it sounds. All I can say is, there I was dangling a hundred stories over the pavement, barely holding on." She swallowed. "I fell. Then this guy caught me."
"So you said that you looked down and nothing was supporting him," Perry prompted. She'd told the story once before but Perry found it so unbelievable he wanted Lois to tell it again. Perry knew how to listen for inconsistencies, how to hear what a source didn't want to say.
"As God is my witness, Perry," Lois continued solemnly, "this guy was flying. He caught me."
"And then?" Perry asked.
"Then the helicopter fell off the building."
"And?" Perry asked again.
"And whoever this guy was, he caught it in one hand."
"And?" Perry repeated.
"And he flew me and the helicopter back up to the Planet roof."
"Right," Perry said, skeptically. "So whoever your savior was, he can fly, and he's strong enough to lift a helicopter."
"Yes!" Lois insisted.
"Do you have anything else?" Perry said cynically. For this he'd left Alice at their dinner? He groaned mentally in frustration.
The only reason he was giving this much time to tabloid garbage was that it was Lois describing it. Lois had come through on some pretty improbable things before. But this story was so fantastic, so improbable, no, impossible. It was out of character for Lois, who usually had her supporting facts buttressing a story better than the famous masonry that supported Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.
"Well, he was wearing blue spandex, and he had a red cape," Lois said reluctantly.
"A red cape?" Perry repeated. "Blue spandex? Lois, honey, you've had a big shock here…" He smiled. "Is this the corroborative detail that's intended to lend verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative?" As ever, the line from The Mikado brought a slight smile to his face.
"Perry, it really happened!" Lois hissed. Perry hadn't seen her so angry in a long while. "I'm sorry that I didn't get any video, but I was busy hanging on for my life, and then falling off a building!"
"Any video?" Perry said, suddenly thinking.
"This is Metropolis," Lois said, calming. "Somebody probably – no, somebody must have had a video camera going."
They looked at each other, then both headed out for the waiting room and the panel of televisions there. Perry watched in silence. His mouth fell open.
"Lois, I'm sorry," he said.
"That's OK, Perry," she replied. "I know it sounded crazy."
"Crazy or not, that's your story," Perry began. "You write that up, Lois. I want it by deadline for the morning edition. Get everything you can. You're going to get a Pulitzer out of this!"
He turned back to the televisions. An amateur videographer had managed to get a blurry close-up of the flying figure, who was dressed in the red and blue just as Lois had said. Something about the figure teased at Perry's memory. "Does that guy look familiar to you?"
Lois looked carefully. "I…don't think so, Perry," she said. "Of course, those ten seconds aren't the best quality video. I mean, there is something a little familiar about him?" she asked hesitantly.
A strange fuzziness in Perry's brain, a feeling of memory just out of reach. "Ah, probably not." He laughed. "I mean, do you know any flying guys?"
"Nope. And I don't know anybody that wears capes either," Lois agreed, smiling.
"OK, Lois, let's sign you out. Get the story," Perry commanded.
"I'm on it, Chief."
