Part Five
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“And cut!” Les stood and approached Hans, Charlotte, and Julia. “Excellent work, you three! Now, then...” He circled around them a little and waved a hand out to the side. “Let's shoot it again from this angle, and this time, I want stronger emotions. Charlotte, you're not just sad to see Superman go; you're afraid he'll never come back! He's leaving, and you may never see him again!”
Lois shivered a little as the stage-direction hit close to home. She made eye-contact with her descendant and smiled, remembering that the fears she'd had just a few days ago had proved to be unfounded.
“Hans and Julia,” Les continued, turning to the other two, “This is the first time you've seen each other after being forced apart for years. I want passion! I want unbridled ecstasy! I want--”
Lois cleared her throat. “Could I just--?”
“I want aspirin!” Les finished, whirling around to glare at Lois. An assistant immediately hustled off.
“I'd just like to make a suggestion,” Lois said, pointedly ignoring the glare. “If I may?”
“We both know that you will anyway,” Les grumbled, “so, out with it! What do you want to change now? The lines? The set? Superman's red trunks?!”
“Of course not!” Lois said, innocently. Actually, the briefs were a little smaller than they should be, but she'd decided to let that pass. “I just thought that, just for laughs, we could do a take where Superman and Zara act like they *aren't* ridiculously in love with each other.” She folded her hands and flashed Les a winning smile. “Just for laughs,” she repeated.
Les glowered at her, clearly not laughing. “What?”
“Well, let's think of it this way,” said Lois; “Superman's supposed to be some Kryptonian big-wig married to another Kryptonian big-wig, right? So, *maybe* it was an arranged marriage; one that Superman didn't even want.” She managed to keep from gritting her teeth while she spoke. “Heck, maybe Zara didn't want to be married to him, either. Maybe she had the hots for some stud back on New Krypton, and would have been perfectly happy to let Superman stay on Earth and marry his fi—uh—someone else, had some jerk not started a bunch of trouble and ruined things for everyone!” She crossed her arms.
Les, Hans, and Julia all stared at her, blinking. Charlotte was fidgeting nervously.
Lois uncrossed her arms and grinned brightly at them. “You know, just for laughs.”
“Are you *trying* to ruin this movie?!” Les shouted at her. “The whole point is that he gets forced away from his home and the people he loves by forces beyond his control! He's an alien and doesn't belong here!”
“WHAT?” Lois and Charlotte both exclaimed.
Les held up a hand. “I *mean*, he's an expatriate! He gets stranded here, but his heart is there. Do you follow?”
Lois narrowed her eyes at Les, and her mouth formed into a tight line. “I think you're in for some surprises down the road, Mr. Donner.”
Les sighed and rolled his eyes. “I'm sure you've got plenty,” he muttered. He turned back to his actors. “Okay, we've got a crane coming in about ten minutes, so everybody take a breather and then we'll head outside for the flying and landing scenes.” He shot another glare at Lois. “I trust nothing about *those* will strike you as controversial?” he spat.
Hans stepped forward. “Uh, Les, did you say a *crane*?” he asked.
“Yes,” Les answered. “What about it?”
Hans frowned. “You told me that the flying was going to be CGI.”
“Some of it, yes.” Les nodded.
“Not all of it?” said Hans, his frown deepening. “Why not all of it?”
“Because it'll look cheap!” said Les. “Look, you have to mix CGI with practical effects in order to keep the eye fooled. It's Film 101.”
“I can't do heights,” said Hans.
Les glared. “What, do you want us to just lay you on a table and have a fan blowing the cape behind you?!”
“No heights,” Hans stated.
Les threw his hands into the air. “But you're Superman!” he shouted. “Who ever heard of a Superman who can't stand heights?!”
“I'm not negotiating this, Les,” Hans insisted, folding his arms.
“No, you're not,” Les said, jabbing a finger at him, “because we have a contract!”
“I'm calling my agent!” Hans snapped, then spun on his heel and headed for the elevator.
Les let out a stream of curses.
A young assistant suddenly tapped Lois on the shoulder. “Um, Miss Graham?” she said, hesitantly. “There's a young man waiting outside; he says he's a relative of yours? Anyway, he says he needs you to come with him right away. It's urgent.”
“I'm on my way,” Lois replied, and headed for the stairwell. There was no way she was sharing an elevator with Hans.
**********
When Lois stepped out of the building, she began looking around for Jordan and nearly missed the skinny teenager who stood fidgeting a few feet away. The kid cleared his throat, making her whirl around to face him. “Gran-gran?” he squeaked.
Lois sighed. “Okay, that one has to go; it sounds like you're a telephone or something.”
“O-oh,” the kid stammered. “Sorry, uhm--”
“Grams is fine,” said Lois. “I'm sorry, what's your name?”
“Wesley,” he replied. Then, as if suddenly remembering his manners, he thrust his hand forward. “It's nice to meet you! I didn't really get a chance to come see you last night, when your time-machine landed. I was sick.”
Lois shook the proffered hand. “I didn't actually arrive in a--” she began, then stopped. “You were sick?”
Wesley nodded.
Lois frowned, puzzled. “I thought none of you could get sick. Unless—are you not really a relative? Well, a *blood* relative, I mean. Even if you're adopted or somebody's step-son or just married into the family—although you look pretty young to be married, unless things in the future have *really* changed—you're still family. Clark would be the first to say so; he's adopted, you know, and very close to his family—his parents, that is. He doesn't have the *other* kind of family yet, though I imagine he'd be thrilled beyond belief if he ever had kids—well, I guess I should say *when* he has kids, considering all of you are here. But you look like him—not exactly like him, mind you, but I can definitely see it somewhere around the—what is so funny?!”
Wesley forced back his laughter and grinned broadly at her. “Lane babble,” he replied. “My grandmother told me about that.”
“Your grandmother?” Lois echoed, thinking. “Would she be my--?”
“Granddaughter,” Wesley answered. “Anyway, yes, I'm blood-related, and yes, it's rare for us to get sick.” He shrugged. “It occasionally happens, though.”
“Are you alright?” Lois asked.
Wesley nodded. “I think so. Anyway, would you mind coming to Uncle Rudy's with me, please?”
“Oh! Um, sure,” Lois acquiesced.
He smiled in relief. “Thank you. I'm parked just down the street.” He gestured with his thumb, then turned and started to head in that direction.
Lois followed close behind. “No flying?” she teased.
Wesley stopped abruptly, nearly causing her to bump into him. He glanced around, then turned to her. “Only Superman can fly, Grams.”
Lois raised an eyebrow. “What? But don't you all have the same--?”
“Only Superman flies,” Wesley repeated. He looked down, a blush coloring his face, and turned to continue towards his car.
They came to a vehicle with a sleek shape and a rusty paint-job, and Wesley courteously held open the passenger-side door for her. Once they were inside and buckled up, they began slowly and jerkily pulling out onto the street. “So,” Lois began, silently digging her nails into her seat as the car abruptly surged forward into traffic, “You said it was urgent?”
Wesley turned to face her, and Lois almost shouted at him to watch the road. “I'm really sorry,” he said, blushing again. “I guess I panicked. But, I do still think you should be there.” They stopped at a stop sign...without slowing down, first. Lois fell forward but was snapped back into place by her seat-belt.
“What's the problem?” she asked. The engine roared as the car shot forward again.
“Cousin Jordan is talking about telling everyone the family secret,” Wesley replied. He suddenly changed lanes, causing someone behind them to blast their horn.
“And—you want me to tell him not to?” Lois asked, trying to keep her breathing calm. She felt her heart stop when Wesley turned the car onto a major highway.
“No—I don't know,” Wesley admitted, looking glum. A traffic light ahead turned amber. He picked up speed, then hit the brake when the light turned red anyway just in front of them. Lois was becoming very grateful for the seat-belt. “Everyone's yelling,” he said over the din of honks.
“Okay,” Lois said as she caught her breath. She considered offering to switch drivers, but sighed in dismay when she realized that the controls were different from the cars of her era. The light turned green, and they shot forward again.
“Uncle Stephen and Uncle Rudy are for it,” said Wesley, “Uncle Freddie, Cousin Lane, and my dad are against it. Everybody says something bad could happen if we tell, or if we don't, and everyone's shouting.” They came to another amber light, and Lois braced herself. It stayed amber, and they sailed straight through. “They keep bringing up Cousin Bobby,” Wesley continued.
“Cousin--?” Lois began, but was drowned out by the horn of a truck as their car drifted too close to the next lane.
“And my dad said spilling the secret will ruin us all and if they go ahead with it, they'll be dead to him.” He turned to Lois again. “I don't want the family to get split up, Grams.”
Despite her fraying nerves, Lois gazed at him sympathetically. “Neither do I, Wesley; neither do—watch out for that bus!”
**********
An eternity later, the car finally came to a stop in front of a two-story house with small yard. “We're here, Grams,” Wesley told her. He came around to open her door for her. When she didn't release her grip on the seat right away, he gently nudged her shoulder. “Um, Grams? We're here.”
After a few seconds, Lois managed to nod mutely. With trembling fingers, she undid her belt and staggered out of the car. Wesley caught her elbow when she started to sway.
“Are you always a nervous passenger, Grams?” Wesley asked.
“Mmfh!” Lois replied.
The door opened, and a man stepped out. “Wesley!” he shouted. “Where on Earth were--?” He stopped when he saw Lois, then immediately jogged up to them. “Great-grandma? Is that really you?!”
“Grams,” said Wesley, “this is my dad.” He turned to his father. “I brought her over so she could help fix everything.”
The older man looked at Wesley, then at the car, then at Lois. “I'm so sorry,” he said to her. He turned to Wesley. “What did I say about driving without a licensed driver in the car?”
Lois' eyes widened in shock.
“But it was an emergency,” Wesley protested.
“Just go to your room,” he said, gruffly. “I'll deal with you later.” He turned back to Lois as Wesley sulked off towards the house. “Again, I'm so sorry.” He offered his hand. “I'm Arnold, by the way.”
“Lois,” she said automatically, taking his hand. “But I guess you knew that already.”
“Please,” said Arnold, “won't you come inside? Hopefully, we can take your mind off of the drive up here.”
To Be Continued...
