OP
Hack from Nowheresville
Joined: Jul 2017
Posts: 296 |
Previously - Chapter 2 *** Chapter 3*** Clark walked out onto the back patio of the small house he had rented. It was unusually warm tonight after a warm front pushed northward yesterday. Everyone from Columbia claimed that the weather in Missouri was like this – snowing one day, sunny and warm the next, but Clark travelled to too many places to have never heard that one before. He sank down into the hammock strung between the posts of the pergola. As he threaded his fingers behind his head and reclined, he stared into the black night sky. Only a few stars were visible from where they lived inside the small city. Metropolis had even fewer stars in the sky. After working at the Daily Planet for a while, Clark decided he couldn’t take the pressure the big city newsroom put on a person. He longed to return to his relaxed lifestyle in the country in Kansas. So he did. Only he found out he couldn’t do that either. When he came back to Smallville, his hometown, his parents encouraged him to settle for something in between, pushing him to get a new job. If Clark didn’t know they wanted him to be successful, he would have assumed they were just trying to get rid of him. He traveled around for a while, working at small town papers in a few places, a story here or there. None were very good, and he moved on when the paper he worked for found out just how big of a blunder he was responsible for at the Planet. When he finally made it home a few months ago, his parents even went so far as to help him find a job this time. Jonathan Kent knew some guys from his high school days who had moved to Columbia and, like Clark, were interested in journalism. They had made it and were working with the local paper there, the News Tribune. Jonathan put the word out that Clark was looking, and the position was brought to his attention. “You’ll never be able to cut it in the big city if you don’t work your way up,” his dad advised. “Start with something easier. Columbia is a nice town that’s not too big but growing fast. Give it a try for a while and when that gets to be too easy, try Metropolis again.” Clark had never felt so worthless and lost but agreed to try it. Before leaving, he spent a few days in Smallville, trying to refocus and let go, but he just couldn’t. No matter what he did, the guilt that had plagued him since leaving Metropolis wouldn’t loosen its hold on him. That’s when he ran into Lana. ###
November 21, 1995
“Clark?” an unsure voice shouted from across the street as he was walking to ease his mind one afternoon. When he turned, he saw Lana standing on the other side of the street waving furiously in his direction. He smiled, and she exclaimed, “Clark! It is you!” She ran to him and swung her arms around his neck.
Lana had been Clark’s friend since high school. She knew him better than anyone else. They had even dated. He was always careful to keep people at a distance, but he’d let Lana get closer than anyone other than his parents. He was shy and not very sure of himself. But Lana made him feel like he mattered.
He reveled in knowing that someone still cared enough about him to make an effort to speak to him but was reluctant to believe that it would last.
“Lana,” he said, pushing her away gently. “How are you?”
“Great! You?” she asked with a huge smile on her face.
“I’m okay,” he said half-heartedly, watching her smile falter. “I heard you’re going off to grad school.” A dinner time chat with his mother always revealed all the local gossip. Including that Lana wasn’t dating anyone and was about to leave town to continue her education.
“I am.” She smiled a big, genuine smile directed right at Clark. It thawed him the tiniest bit. “Can I walk with you?”
“Sure, but I’m not headed anywhere in particular.” He held out his elbow for her to take and when she did, her fingers clutched his arm tenderly.
“That’s okay,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m just glad to see you. We can go anywhere you want.” She waved her hand as if she really would follow him anywhere.
They began walking down the street and Clark felt nervous though he didn’t understand why. He never dated anyone else as long back in high school, but he never viewed her as his girlfriend. He was sure, however, that Lana thought of him as her boyfriend. When they went their separate ways after graduating, he lost touch with her … except for what his mother told him. Lana seemed content to just walk with him, but it felt awkward in the silence. Like it meant more than it did. He quickly searched for something to say. “So, what are you up to these days?” he asked with as much interest as he could manage.
“Not too much,” she began, “just visiting family while I’m here.” She paused but seemed to have more to say. Clark waited as she used her fingers to brush back the hair that the wind had gotten caught under her chin. “Actually, I’m leaving in a few days. I’ve been accepted to a grad program in a journalism school.” Her subdued tone gave him the impression that she wasn’t quite as excited at that as she was to see Clark.
“That’s great,” he commended. “Where at?”
“Columbia, Missouri,” she replied. “So not too far off.”
Columbia, Missouri? His parents wouldn’t. Would they?
They turned the corner and made their way from the main street onto a less busy road that would eventually lead them to a small park near the center of town.
“Columbia?” Clark questioned. “Really?” His mother did keep him fully abreast of Lana’s every movement. She would have known. But she never said anything about Columbia.
“Yeah,” she confirmed. She looked up into his face with a frown on hers. “Why? Is that weird?”
“No,” Clark quickly reassured her. “It’s just that I’m going there, too.” It was completely possible that his mother had everything to do with this particular ‘friend’ of his dad’s that just ‘happened’ to have a job for Clark…
Hearing this news, Lana’s face lit up, quickly changing her frown back to a smile. “You’re kidding! Are you in the journalism school too?”
“No,” Clark immediately refuted. “No advanced degrees for me. I’m ready to get in the thick of things…I think.” Lana didn’t seem to notice the hesitancy in Clark’s voice. As much as he was trying to hide it, his low confidence was so all-encompassing that small, lacking statements would slip out occasionally.
“That’s cool.” No, she hadn’t noticed. Her attention was focused on a very artful display of flowers in front of the house they passed. She reached for a petal on a flower as they continued. “So, you will be working at the paper there?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “My dad hooked me up with some college friend of his there.” He didn’t like admitting that he hadn’t found the job himself, but he felt like he could tell her anything. And if something was going to push her away, he’d rather it happen now and not later.
“That’s great,” she replied, looking at him now. “What will you be doing?”
“Reporter, city government. Dad thinks it’s a good place for me,” he added.
“You don’t sound so convinced.” Her eyes seemed to see right through him. Maybe he’d said too much. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
“Well-” he started. He stopped when she pulled him to a stop and stepped in front of him. They were nearly to the park where there would be a tiny bit of privacy instead of here on the sidewalk in front of someone’s house.
“In fact,” Lana continued, “you don’t really seem like yourself.” She crossed her arms in front of her and gave one of those ‘tell me the truth’ looks.
“Is that so?” He wanted to avoid this topic of conversation.
“Yes!” she insisted. “The Clark I know is confident and happy and outgoing. You,” she gestured to him with her right arm, “seem down and … not confident at all.” The way she emphasized the last word gave the impression she was getting a little fed up with it.
“Well…” Clark started again but couldn’t quite think of what to say, how to explain what made him feel this way.
“What happened Clark?” Lana asked quietly. Maybe she finally realized he didn’t want to talk in that spot because she grabbed his elbow again and pulled him toward the park. “The last I knew, you went to Metropolis, working as a reporter there.”
“That was a long time ago,” he commented. Two years really, but it didn’t last that long.
“Maybe.” As they reached the entrance to the park, she slowed their pace and laced her fingers together around the arm she was holding on to. Clark was surprised at how awkward it felt when they had walked like this dozens of times in high school. “When did you leave it?” she interrupted his woolgathering.
“Shortly after I got there.” She was getting closer to the truth and he knew it. It was only a matter of time.
“Why?” Such a simple question. Her tone lacked disappointment now, but that would soon be different.
“I screwed up,” he admitted. The end of his friendship with Lana loomed even closer.
“How?” Her tone didn’t change for this question. But she did stop him again, this time in a small alcove in the trees of the park. She turned Clark to face her again and waited with such a patient look on her face that he knew she’d be hurt by what he was about to admit.
“I made some bad choices and was swayed by someone involved in a story I was working on,” Clark blurted out quickly. It would be better to rip the band-aid off in one go.
“Surely it wasn’t all that bad,” Lana brushed his bad choices off. She must not have understood what he was saying.
“It was,” he argued, his anger at himself furrowing his brow. “People died…because of me.” He hung his head.
She didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to look up to see the disappointment on her face. He knew exactly what it would look like.
“Look,” he said as he started to turn away, “I have to go, I’ll see you around.”
“Clark,” she said gently as she grabbed his arm again. “Wait. Tell me more about it.”
“I- I don’t think so.” This was too much. Why didn’t she just let him go?
“Later?” she asked. “You really seem like you need a friend. Have dinner with me. My house? I’ll cook.” Her request sounded so sweet and from her expression he could tell she genuinely cared.
“I don’t know…” he evaded her question and her look.
“Come on,” she encouraged. “It will do you some good to talk about it.” She squeezed his arm and moved her head so that he saw her eyebrows lift with questioning in her eyes. He could feel his resolve melting.
“I don’t know…” he tried again. Clark was beginning to think that if she hadn’t run away after his admission, maybe she wouldn’t.
“Well, come for dinner then,” she instructed. “And don’t tell me about it.”
He hesitated a moment and watched disappointment flicker across her face. He couldn’t say no to her and be the cause of that disappointment. “Okay,” he relented. Surely, he could have dinner with her. Maybe she wouldn’t ask more questions about what happened.
They parted ways after establishing what time dinner would be. Clark worried about it all afternoon and continued to worry all the way up to arriving at Lana’s house. He knocked on the door anyway and waited for a response.
A very cheery-eyed Lana answered the door. “Hey Clark!” She took his outstretched hand and, instead of shaking it, used it to steady herself as she stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I made your favorite: bourbon beef tenderloin with a potato galette and shaved asparagus.”
“Thanks, Lana,” he said as sincerely as possible, following her into her apartment. “You didn’t have to do that.” And he wished he hadn’t made her think he liked it. But he couldn’t confess to lying to her the first time she made dinner for him. He would just have to endure it.
She shrugged as he followed her into the dining room of her modest apartment. “I wanted to. You seem so… dejected, I had to do something.”
It was how he felt. “Thanks, I think.”
“Your welcome,” she said matter-of-factly. She motioned to the seat at the head of the table. “Here, have a seat,” she suggested and then sat in the seat to his right.
Both seated, Clark looked over the beautifully laid table. He complimented the food, they said grace, and began eating over small talk. It was only a little awkward to Clark, but the way Lana carried on, he didn’t think she felt awkward at all. A lull in the conversation and a significant look from Lana warned him that something was coming.
“So, I’m hoping-” she started. He didn’t know what she was hoping, but he needed to set some boundaries to protect her.
“Lana,” he interrupted, “I don’t think we should meet up in Columbia.” He found himself unable to look at her again, not wanting to see the disappointment. Disappointment was all he ever brought anyone. Didn’t she see that?
“What? Why not?” He could hear the frown in her voice. Confusion was probably written all over her face.
“I’m…” Clark wasn’t sure how to explain this. He tried again, “They’ll turn you away because you’re hanging out with me.”
“They will not,” she immediately argued.
“Yes, they will,” he countered as he finally looked up. The single raised eyebrow and doubt in her eyes explained why she hadn’t sounded angry yet. She didn’t believe what he was saying.
“Then you have to tell me what happened,” she shot back with determination. “Because I just can’t imagine it being your fault.” She set her fork down, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms over her chest.
He knew that look.
“Fine,” he once again relented.
As he disclosed what happened in as short a way as possible, explaining what had gone so wrong in Metropolis, Lana sat patiently, nodding and frowning at appropriate times. When he finished, Clark remained seated, fidgeting, while Lana seemed to be taking it in.
Finally, she leaned forward with her elbows on the table and in a nonchalant tone said, “Well, I think you are making more out of this than is really there.”
Would she ever respond to any of this in a way he expected? “But I kept getting booted from my job after they found out about it.”
“Then stop hiding it,” she said simply and leaned back in her chair, her arms relaxed on the table now.
“What?” he asked, returning her challenging expression with one of disbelief.
“Be up front,” she explained. “Let them know your side of the story. Explain it so they understand what happened. You know deep down that he didn’t die because of you. Yet you’ve done a fantastic job of convincing yourself you did, and I don’t have a clue why.”
He leaned back in the chair and looked at her for a moment. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he thought about her point.
As if she could read his mind, she suddenly smirked. “You know I’m right.”
Clark couldn’t stop the bit of relief he was feeling from showing its face in the smile taking over the corners of his mouth.
“And I’d appreciate it if you would let me decide for myself whether you are worth spending time with,” she added. She sat forward, reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
Her response was so inconsistent with what he had been expecting that he found himself nearly overcome with gratification. “Okay.” He squeezed her hand in return and looked to her. “Thank you,” he said.
Lana quickly leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You are welcome.”
“I love you,” Clark blurted, surprising even himself. At Lana’s small gasp he tried to cover up, “You know… like a …”
“Like…?” she prompted. Her eyes were wide and expectant. He wished he could take it back, but realized it wasn’t entirely false and maybe he could admit that.
“I don’t know…” he said, frustrated at his own ineptness at expressing his feelings. “You just … matter…a lot. I … I need you.”
While it clearly wasn’t what she hoped to hear, she smiled sincerely and squeezed his hand again. “It’s nice to be needed.”
“Is it?” he said as he looked down at their hands, unable to imagine the feeling.
“I need you, too,” Lana admitted with a smile. “I didn’t like the idea of being all alone in Columbia, but I’m glad I’ll have someone there now.”
And Clark wouldn’t be completely alone in this new city either. Maybe that was why things didn’t go so well in Metropolis. Maybe this would be different.
###And it had been. He followed Lana’s advice and was honest with his new editor about what had happened in Metropolis. And she was right that they wouldn’t see it the same way he had been convincing himself it was. He finally felt a bit of reprieve from this state of depression he seemed to be stuck in. Once they moved to Columbia, things progressed quickly with Lana. She came over a few nights after they arrived complaining of the loud music that her roommates were using to keep her from sleeping and asked to spend the night. She slept on the couch with her blankets and pillows that she brought with her. A few nights later she came back and after watching a movie together, they fell asleep in Clark’s bed. And now she stayed every night. Clark had stopped them every time anything intimate started to happen. He found himself very nervous about being too close to Lana in that way, not quite like when he was in high school. There was something he couldn’t explain stopping him. It just didn’t feel right. Still they would snuggle up while sleeping and Lana seemed to be okay with it. He did tell Lana he loved her, but just wasn’t ready for more until he’d worked through all this guilt he couldn’t let go of. He didn’t feel like he could live without her right now… or ever. Maybe it really was being alone that caused things to not work out in Metropolis. But now things weren’t going well again. Lana had left. How could Lana think he was in love with a woman he hadn’t seen in two years? It just didn’t make any sense. Sure, she popped into his mind occasionally, but it was not welcome or pleasant. In order to fix his relationship with Lana though, he was going to have to think about Lois. He needed to figure out why he was talking about her in his sleep. But all he could recall during his sleep was an ominous face he couldn’t identify. For the first time in a long time, Clark allowed himself to remember those awful days… ###
September 13, 1993
Clark stepped off the bus and set his things down. He took a deep breath and surveyed the city he intended to make his new home. He had a plan and the courage to see where it led him.
Clark’s next stop was the Daily Planet, the newspaper he’d dreamed of working at ever since he first started helping at the Smallville Gazette as a runner in the small newsroom. He worked hard to learn the ways of a reporter and now here he was. He hoped his letter of recommendation and a few sample stories would be enough to get him a job as a reporter at the Daily Planet.
He was led into the office of Perry White, Editor in Chief. A more intimidating man Clark had never met. Despite the brief glance in his direction, Clark saw the years of hard work written on his face and felt his stern eyes drill into him with practiced discernment.
Mr. White shuffled through some papers, not completely focused on Clark yet. “So, you are Mr. … uh-” he started.
“Kent. Clark Kent.” Clark supplied.
“Ah yes, Kent.” Mr. White thought for a moment before the recognition dawned on him. “Oh, Professor Carlton called me about you. Boy, I haven’t seen him in I don’t know…” he trailed off before he reached down to pick Clark’s resume up off his desk. “Let’s see here. Editor, Smallville Press. Where is that? That’s…?” he asked.
“Kansas” Clark again supplied the answer.
Just then the phone rang. As Mr. White reached for it, he said with a brisk tone, “Oh, just a minute.” He spoke to the person on the other end. “Yes?... Aw, tell him to keep his pants on. … If Carlini’s can’t deliver on time, just find a place who can!” He slammed the phone down and took a deep breath. Focusing back on Clark he asked, “Can you believe I had to buy a blood pressure monitor last week.?”
“Paava leaves,” Clark suggested.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. White asked not understanding what that had to do with anything.
“The Ulongu tribe in New Guinea eat paava leaves to reduce stress,” Clark explained. He spent a bit of time traveling, preparing for what he wanted to do with his life. He continued the explanation, “It puts them in a meditative state. Maybe you should try it.”
“Ah, well, I see you’ve done some traveling,” Mr. White commented. His raised eyebrows and half smile communicated his skepticism.
“Well, this is my first trip to Metropolis,” Clark said with a sheepish grin. He didn’t like tooting his own horn and quickly changed the subject. “I have some samples of my work.” Clark pulled out his portfolio and handed it to the waiting editor.
“Ah, good, good. Let’s take a look.” Mr. White perused the papers as Clark sat back. “The … Borneo Gazette,” Clark could hear the doubt in the editor’s voice as he read the headline aloud. “– Mating Rituals of the Knob-Tailed Gecko?”
Perry White did not sound impressed.
Clark felt his hopes and dreams slipping away. Maybe his dad was right. He should have made a back-up plan.
“Kent, I’m sure that these are fascinating stories. But you see, son, this is the Daily Planet. We’re the greatest newspaper in the whole world. Now, our people are dedicated servants of the fourth estate, who routinely handle matters of international significance –” Mr. White’s monologue was interrupted by someone opening the door without knocking.
“Alright, Chief, I fixed the horn on your golf cart,” the young man said, wiping his hands on a rag after setting some object down on the desk.
“Not now, Jimmy,” Mr. White cut in.
“The tone’s still off…” Jimmy continued oblivious to the disruption he was causing.
“Jimmy!” Mr. White said more sternly. “Not now.” Jimmy realized his mistake and left as Mr. White continued. “Now as… uh… as I was saying. You just can’t walk in here with this kind of-” Again he was interrupted by someone opening the door without knocking.
This time a woman came in clearly determined to be heard. Her words came quickly while she paid little attention to anything other than the words she said and the man she addressed. Clark immediately felt embarrassed that she was walking in on what was obviously a rejection by the direction Mr. White’s talk was going.
“Chief, I think there’s a story here and we should have this guy checked out. You know the crazy one from this morning. He was an engineer at EPRAD and –” She spoke a mile-a-minute. She would have kept going if Mr. White hadn’t cut in, raising his hand.
“Now Lois, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” He brought her attention to the other person in the room as Clark’s heart stopped and the blood drained from his face.
“Oh,” she acknowledged, her nose wrinkled into a sneer. Clark couldn’t knock the feeling that he just didn’t measure up. He felt so undeserving of even being in this doomed interview.
“Lois Lane, Clark Kent,” Mr. White introduced them.
“Nice to meet you,” she quickly mumbled as if she didn’t want anything to do with him before continuing her line of reasoning. “Anyway, he worked on the messenger-’
“Wait,” Mr. White cut her off again. “Wait a minute, what happened to that mood piece I gave you about the razing of that old theater on 42nd street?”
“I wasn’t in the mood.” She shrugged. “Perry, this is big. I’ll need some help.”
“You weren’t in the mood,” Mr. White said to no one in particular. He seemed to ponder her point. “Now look Lois, you’ve always had a nose for news, so I’ll give you this one. Take Kent here.”
Clark’s heart leapt. Was Mr. White offering him a job instead of firing him? Lois looked him up and down with a frown on her face, measuring his worth. She barely kept her eye roll to herself before turning back to Mr. White.
“No,” she said, her nose crinkling even more after catching a whiff of his inadequacies. “He’s a hack from Nowheresville. I need someone who can actually help,” she emphasized, stealing another look with disdain dripping from her sneer. Clark fought to conceal the flinch from her scathing words and pointed glance that cut through him. He had never felt so low. How could one person have so much of an effect on him?
“I know I lack experience,” he heard himself say to them both, “but I’m a good writer and a hard worker and I have plenty of experience doing research.”
“See?” Mr. White agreed, turning his attention back to his work. “I’m sure he’ll be the perfect person for the job. He’s yours. Do whatever you like with him.”
She harrumphed but a commotion at the window caught her attention and she seemed to completely forget about him.
“I – I gotta go, Chief. I’ll catch up with you later.” She turned and rushed to the door but stopped in the threshold to turn to him. “Kent, be at my desk in ten minutes,” she ordered.
He didn’t have time to acknowledge the command before she was gone. He turned back to Mr. White, who had a mischievous grin on his face as he looked at his papers one more.
“Thank you, sir,” Clark said. “I appreciate you giving me this chance to prove myself.”
“Yeah,” he acknowledged, not looking up. “Oh and in between doing whatever Lois tells you, I want you to take that theater razing story.”
“Certainly, sir.” Clark nodded and got up to leave the office ready to work himself to the bone and prove he could hack it in this town.
“And Kent?” he said, leveling him with stare. “Don’t let me down.”
###
Don’t let me down.Perry White’s words hung in the cool evening air as he thought back to his time at the Daily Planet with despair. Clark shook his head, closing his eyes. He had let Mr. White down. He’d let himself down. Of all the dreams and hopes he had built up, working at the Daily Planet had proven to be impossible. Everything Lois thought about him turned out to be true. He hadn’t been willing to admit it then. He was willing to admit it now. And that was why there was no way that Clark was in love with Lois. None whatsoever. All she made him feel was lowly and unworthy. She had looked at him with disdain and disappointment before they’d even worked together. Of course, Lois was right in the end. This was the part he hadn’t wanted to tell Lana, the part that made him look unreliable, dishonest, and disgraceful. Even so, he allowed the reverie to continue. ###
September 20, 1993
The story Lois was working on had only just begun that morning when a bedraggled man pushed his way into the newsroom attempting to give a packet of papers to Lois. His claim that the messenger would explode caught her attention and her stubborn persuasiveness allowed her to win Mr. White over on investigating it further for a story.
The messenger launch was scheduled for the following day. Lois, being the hard-nosed investigator that she was, went straight to the source, dragging Clark along with her. They made their way to EPRAD with the intention of speaking with someone in charge and asking about this report the estranged Dr. Samuel Platt had told her about.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Lois spat out as they walked quickly to the entrance. She wasn’t watching where she was walking while digging in her purse for her press badge.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Clark acknowledged.
She caught her foot on a crack in the sidewalk and Clark instinctively reached out to grab her elbow. She jerked her arm away from him as if his touch hurt her.
“Don’t help me!” she practically yelled.
“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, making a mental note that unwanted help was not something Lois was comfortable with.
She didn’t say anything more. She found her badge and made her way to the entrance. The guard posted there pointed them in the direction of the office where someone would be able to help them. Here, her best efforts were stymied. All they were able to get was that Samuel Platt was in fact fired for behavior in violation of their safety protocols.
That afternoon, Lois charged Clark with organizing the papers that she was given that morning by Dr. Platt, but he wasn’t able to make sense of any of them. Clark didn’t really feel like he was doing much helping, just following Lois wherever she went like a puppy. He finished his first day of work feeling like a let-down, like he was in over his head. Maybe the next day would be better.
The following morning, the launch of the Messenger began on schedule, the newsroom watching. Tragedy struck when, at the last minute, fires broke out and the whole spacecraft exploded in a tower of flames, killing the crew aboard. Was Dr. Platt right?
Lois’s reaction to the scene was one of anger and resolve. The next place she dragged Clark to was the home of Dr. Samuel Platt. His home was not much of a home but an abandoned warehouse, cluttered and disorganized. While Lois asked a few introductory questions, Dr. Platt shuffled around pulling pieces of paper from random places, throwing out vague answers. Lois then asked him about this report he supposedly sent to a Dr. Baines, head of the Messenger project at EPRAD.
“Do you have a copy of the report?” she asked while Clark stood helplessly in the background.
“What kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t keep copies of my reports?” he responded without stopping his strange behavior.
Clark wondered what kind of scientist could live in such clutter. Everything Dr. Platt said sounded like the ravings of a mad man. He claimed to have been drugged by the people at EPRAD and that was why he was so scattered brained, but Clark wasn’t so sure that was it. Why would such a notable company drug an employee? Clark really didn’t understand any of this and was considerably worried that Lois was barking up the wrong tree. Mr. White had said she was the ‘best damned investigative reporter’ but Clark was beginning to have his doubts.
Later that afternoon, they received a box full of papers from Dr. Platt. Lois added the task of going through them to Clark list of things to do. Yet again, he was unsuccessful at understanding what he was looking at. Lois hadn’t even tried understanding the reports and decided they should try speaking to someone at EPRAD again.
This time when they arrived, Dr. Antoinette Baines was willing to speak to them. Lois and Clark followed the guard in and were led into Dr. Baines’s office as evidenced by the name on the door. It was a large office given that Dr. Baines was the head of the project. It was lined with filing cabinets along the entire wall and had stacks of papers on the table in an open part of the room. Lois took a seat in the chair facing the desk and reached into her satchel and dug around for something.
Clark took the seat next to her and scanned the office. On the desk, he noticed a picture of a young woman with a small child and picked it up for a closer look. He assumed the woman was Dr. Baines. The child had the same blond hair and bright smile and resembled the woman enough to be a relative of some sort, but Clark wasn’t sure which.
“My brother,” a voice stated from behind. Clark turned around to see Dr. Baines standing in the doorway with a clipboard in one hand and the other hand in the pocket of her baby blue lab coat. Lois pulled a pad of paper out of her bag and set her bag down forcibly, casting a warning glare at Clark.
Was Lois trying to intimidate him? He turned back to the picture, trying his best to ignore her. “He looks very happy,” Clark noted, nodding to the picture.
“He was,” Dr. Baines said sadly as she walked toward her desk, set her things down, and then stepped next to the chair Clark sat in.
Clark immediately caught the past tense and frowned. “What was his name?” he asked. He heard Lois clear her throat but continued ignoring her. Dr. Baines would be more willing to talk to them if she felt some connection to them.
“Fletcher,” she said with a sad smile. “He died a few years ago.” She briefly looked at the picture and then walked around her desk to sit in her comfortable captain’s chair. “He’s my inspiration.”
“Inspiration?” Clark inquired, noting the irritated eye roll he saw in his peripheral vision indicating Lois’s great displeasure. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to want to interrupt him right now. She was probably just jealous that Dr. Baines would talk to him, a ‘hack from Nowheresville’, as she so eloquently put it.
“Yes,” she answered. “His condition was one that we are planning to study on the Prometheus Space Station.” She leaned forward in her chair and clasped her hands on her desk. “He didn’t make it long enough to see the results of our efforts, but there are plenty of others just like him that we will be able to save one day.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lois cut in with feigned sympathy, likely trying to take control of the conversation. “Dr. Baines, what can you tell us about the sabotage? What is EPRAD doing to protect the colonists going up on the next launch?”
Dr. Baines looked up at her, as if only just now realizing Lois was in the office. “I… I’d like to tell you more about the sabotage, but first, I need to know that you will be protecting your source.”
“Yes,” Lois eagerly assured. “We always protect our sources at the Daily Planet.”
Dr. Baines sat up straighter and appeared to think about whether she could take Lois at her word.
“It's okay, Dr. Baines. You can trust us,” Clark put in.
Lois scooted to the edge of her seat, hungry for the information. “Do you know more about the sabotage Dr. Platt was talking about?” Lois asked directly.
“I do,” Dr. Baines said hesitantly, “but I can’t risk it getting back that I was the person who leaked the information.”
“Of course,” Clark said earnestly, trying to reassure Dr. Baines.
Lois looked at him then with an expression that screamed, ‘This isn’t fair, I’m supposed to be doing all the talking.’ But he ignored her and held eye contact for as long as Dr. Baine would allow.
Clark could see Dr. Baines considering this a moment before nodding and continuing.
“Dr. Platt is responsible for the sabotage,” Dr. Baines admitted, relief relaxing her features. “He filed a report saying that cooling devices were necessary for the function of the spacecraft with forged evidence. The change was made and that is why the spacecraft blew up.”
“Do you have a copy of this report?” Lois immediately asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Baines opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a large ring of keys. She got up and walked to one of the many filing cabinets and opened the drawer on the bottom in the leftmost cabinet. Lois enthusiastically turned to watch Dr. Baines retrieve a manila envelope and walk back to them, handing the folder directly to Lois. “It’s all there.”
“Why are you giving this to us?” Lois asked, a look of confused disbelief on her face.
“Because the next launch is in danger…” Dr. Baines opened her mouth but didn’t speak. Instead, she looked toward the window. After taking a deep breath, she continued, “Platt is blackmailing me, trying to pin this on me instead.” She turned sorrowful eyes to Clark who read her distress in them. This was a cry for help.
“I see,” said Lois with a smirk on her face. “And you expect us to believe-”
“Thank you, Dr. Baines. We better be going,” Clark interrupted before Lois could say the most skeptical thing imaginable. “We’ll take a look into this file. Thank you.” He quickly stood up shoving the chair he was sitting in backwards. Lois reluctantly stood when he reached for her arm and pulled her up. “We’ll let you know if we have any questions about anything.”
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Baines said, finding his eyes. Clark was sure she was sending him a secret message with her facial expression, except he wasn’t sure what it was.
As they walked out to the sidewalk to call for a cab, Lois slapped Clark’s shoulder with the folder she was holding. “You idiot,” she berated. “She was lying and if we’d stayed in there long enough, I could have gotten her to admit it.”
“I think she’s telling the truth,” Clark argued. They reached the sidewalk and turned to face each other.
“Really?” she sneered, lifting her eyebrows expectantly. “And you know this because… why?”
“I can’t say,” Clark admitted. “Her eyes weren’t lying.”
“Lying eyes,” Lois mocked. She snorted and shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Her eyes were lying through their lashes and I can see she pulled the wool over yours.” She stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “And I’ll show you once we’ve gone through this forgery of a report.” She turned to look down the street and whistled for a cab.
“What makes you think it’s a forgery?” Clark asked. A cab pulled up in front of them and he opened the door for Lois to get in.
“Because that was too easy,” she said. She lowered herself into the car before he climbed in beside her.
Her crossed legs and arms screamed that she was in no mood to discuss it. Clark chose not to say anything. Not agreeing with Lois wouldn’t go over very well. And perhaps the document they’d received would shed light on the truth.
Back at the planet, they sat shuffling through the papers that Dr. Platt had given them along with the report that Dr. Baines had just put in their hands. As Clark read over them, he heard Lois grumble something about forgery again. He looked up to see an irritated expression on her face.
“This is ridiculous,” she said as she abruptly stood up, slamming the papers down on her desk. She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and slid one arm in. “I’m going for some lunch.” She didn’t even look at him as she briskly walked toward the elevator doors, putting her coat on the rest of the way. He watched as she stepped into the elevator on the left, letting out an exasperated grunt.
As the doors closed in front of her, the elevator on the right opened. Dr. Baines stepped out and immediately made eye contact with him as she twisted her fingers together in front of her. He stood from his chair and walked to meet her.
“Can I speak with you?” she asked. “Somewhere private?” she clarified as she looked nervously around the busy newsroom.
“Sure, we can go in there,” Clark responded, pointing toward the conference room. He followed her in and closed the door behind him. “What is it, Dr. Baines?”
“Antoinette, please,” she said, then seated herself in one of the chairs at the conference table and looked at her hands resting in her lap.
“Antoinette,” he repeated as he propped himself on the smaller table along the wall.
“I figured Lois wouldn’t believe the report I gave her,” she started. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he noted the slight redness around hers. “She thinks I’m in on it, doesn’t she?” she asked.
“She does,” Clark confirmed, “but I don’t.” He pulled the chair next to her out and sat down.
She smiled at him, shyly. “I brought this.” She pulled an envelope out of her purse and presented it to him. “It’s the original report documenting the need for heating devices.”
Clark took it from her and turned it over to open it. “Why wasn’t it with the rest of the papers you gave us?”
“I…hid it,” she confided. “When Platt started blackmailing me, I felt like I needed something… just in case.” She hung her head and shook it. He felt sorry for her. Having to deal with the uncertainty and fear of coercion would be difficult to cope with.
“Thank you,” he said, “for bringing this to me.” He pulled the paper from the envelope and began scanning it.
“Don’t tell Lois I gave it to you. Please?” she pleaded. “Tell her someone else sent it to you.”
He considered it and then nodded. “I will. You seem quite upset about all this.”
“I…am,” she revealed. “I tried to stand up to him at first. This project means so much to me. I don’t want to see it ruined. But I …” her words trailed off and she closed her eyes as a single tear slid down her cheek.
“It’s okay. I’ll protect you,” he assured her, placing his hand on her knee. “Lois doesn’t need to know where this came from.”
“Thank you,” she said and smiled up at him. “I have to go.” She stood quickly and all but ran to the elevator.
He watched her leave as he made his way back to the table he and Lois had been working at. He strategically placed the envelope where Lois would see it and went back to looking through the papers as he waited for Lois to return from her lunch. He hadn’t made much progress before she stomped back to the table and roughly set her things down.
“Well?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this just doesn’t make much sense.” He looked at the envelope then at her. “This came for you while you were gone,” he said indicating the envelope Antoinette had delivered.
He watched as she opened the envelope and read over the document. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened in surprise. “Clark, did you read this?” she said excitedly.
“No,” he denied, busying himself with the papers closest to him. “What is it?”
“It’s the other half.” She looked up at him with shock on her face. “You were right, Baines was telling the truth.” She showed him the document and he barely looked at it. “This is the report showing the need for heating devices. Dr. Platt authorized cooling devices. He went against the report.”
Clark smiled inwardly, satisfied that he was able to get Lois to see his side of things without having to argue. Lois immediately went to work writing up their findings. She wrote the entire story, not allowing him much input. Mr. White was impressed, and the story printed in the next edition. Even though Clark had only helped on the story, he finally felt like he’d accomplished something important.
But then things went completely wrong. The next thing Clark knew, they were being subjected to hours of questioning by the police in the death of Dr. Platt. An investigation by a special task force at the police department had found the opposite of what they’d reported and later found Dr. Platt dead, apparently killed. They wanted to hold Lois liable for printing false information.
Clark’s world was crumbling around him. The treatment he and Lois had received from colleagues and Mr. White was nearly unbearable. He felt like he had single handedly ruined her career as well as his own. The only thing he could think to do was take all the blame upon himself and agree to quit his job at the Planet. It would never be enough to undo what had happened, but he knew it was for the best. The next time he saw Lois was when he collected his things from his desk.
As he walked past her desk toward the exit, she turned her head away, glancing over her shoulder, obviously trying not to look at him. He was ashamed of himself but paused next to her desk. “For what it's worth,” he started, knowing she really didn’t care what he had to say, “I’m sorry…about … everything.” His paltry apology would never be enough.
She shook her head and breathed out. “Worthless,” she spat at him. “I never want to see you again.”
###And yet Lana said he was talking to Lois, telling her he loved her. Clark shook his head in confusion. Failing so miserably had permanently affected Clark. Maybe he’d never been a great reporter, but that incident proved that investigative journalism was something he would never be able to do. He’d done okay these last two months with Lana encouraging him, but before that, he kept screwing up other stories wherever he went. That was really why he kept getting fired. How he wished he could talk to Lana about this, to understand what things he’d said in his sleep. The things she described just didn’t match what he was thinking, what he remembered. But Lana had made it clear she didn’t want to or couldn’t help him figure this out. He felt stuck. If only Lana would just tell him what he’d been saying in his sleep. *** Comments go here!  Continue reading - Chapter 4
"Oh my gosh! Authors really do use particular words on purpose!" ~Me, when I started writing a book. 
|
