Lois
Metropolis 1989
A blustery autumn day in Metropolis. In Centennial Park the bright shafts of sunlight touched majestic trees. Their branches heavy with the weight of leaves painted a riot of colors, chief among them scarlet and gold with faint splashes of fading greens. Across town, s slight young woman wearing a navy blue suit which had seen better days, paced in front of the building that housed the Daily Plant.
Lois Lane hugged the heavy cream colored shawl that was draped over her shoulders a little closer. After paying this month’s rent for her shoebox of an apartment, money had been tight. It was either wear the shawl Molly Finn offered her to make up for the worn out interview suit or buy a coat. Considering the student loan of ten thousand dollars that still remained to be paid, any unnecessary purchases right now was out of the question.
But, if this interview went the way she hoped, a new coat and seriously making a dent in that loan would be at the top of the priority list.
Glancing at the watch for the tenth time that hour and seeing it was only nine thirty, she wondered if she should walk around the block and work off the nervousness energy running through her veins. She was waiting until nine forty-five to enter the lobby and ride the elevator to the newsroom. Perry White, the award winning paper’s managing editor, wanted to interview her for a position on the city desk. This was the final step for a journey that began four years earlier with a blazing, definitive argument with her father, Dr. Sam Lane. He wanted his daughter to focus her college career on medicine rather than journalism.
She remembered all too well how the sheer volume of the angry words that tore back and forth between them seemed to peel the light blue paint off the living room walls.
***
“No daughter of mine is not going to waste time typing up insipid stories about garden parties and get carbon paper ink stains on her fingers!” As he slammed his large fist onto the coffee table.
Exasperated she responded acidly, “Daddy, offices barely used that messy stuff anymore! There’s a new invention called the Xerox machine; it makes copies of documents without typing. I have no intention of writing puff pieces. Well … maybe in the beginning, but as an investigative reporter I can make a difference …”
Sam scoffed at her words, “Saving lives is making a difference! Do it with a scalpel, not a pencil!”
She rolled her eyes and shot back, “Stories exposing corruption are written on computers, which are just as powerful!”
Taking a deep breath, her father spoke in a low, tightly controlled voice, “Lois, I won’t financially support this decision to pursue a different career path from medicine. After today, you’ll have to do it on your own.”
“Fine! Finishing school will be better and sweeter without your help!” With those words, she stormed out of the living room, past a stunned Ellen Lane, and ran upstairs. The strident voices of her parents arguing could be heard through the bedroom door while she hastily packed only the clothes and a few items purchased with money earned from a part-time job at the local video store.
Ten minutes later Lois, with a heavy backpack slung over her shoulder and a large suitcase in one hand, clumsily walked down the stairs and past her parents as she made for the front door.
“Sam! Apologize to your daughter before she leaves!” Ellen begged tearfully.
Sam answered back with a growl, “No! How is she going to pay for tuition, books, food, and a decent place to live? Reality will bring her to her senses! She’ll be crying to come home within a week.”
Ellen threw her hands up in defeat and stormed away from her husband. “Both of you are so stubborn! You’ve thrown a challenge in her face … have you ever known her to back down?”
Those were the last words Lois heard when leaving her father’s house for the final time. Head held high, she refused to let either of her parents see the hot, salty tears flowing down her cheeks. She loved them both and prayed that someday they could work past this. The only good thing was that thankfully Lucy was on to date and missed this furious exchange.
But her mother was right. This was challenge. A chance for her to fight for the career of her choice.
The stark reality of leaving home under such circumstances was unpleasant, even a little rough. She stayed with in the basement of a friend whose parents were away for a few weeks. In that time she scoured the area near the college for a place to live before they returned. The search was fruitless, and she was afraid she might have to move into a room in a less than reputable part of town Uncle Mike and Aunt Rita stepped in to help.
She stayed with them for three months until she found a tiny studio apartment not far from Metro University campus. During the day she waitressed at Café Americana and attended classes. Occasionally, she picked up a little spare change writing short articles for local magazines and neighborhood newspapers, all while maintaining A’s in her coursework. The bitter words from that last battle with Sam Lane goaded Lois to pursue journalism with a laser focus, working harder and smarter than anyone else in her class.
That first year a much coveted paying part-time position at the Daily Planet was offered to the most talented journalism student at MetroU. Lois wanted the job so badly; she could taste it. But the taste turned bitter when another student, Philip Chesnick, who worked at his father’s newspaper in Chicago, was given the spot. It was a tough break, only thing that separated her from Chesnick was real work experience and she had no intention of allowing that to stop her.
After a month of taking interviews at various publications around the city, she was hired for a part-time job working as a copy girl for the Metro Post. The newspaper was not as well known as the Daily Planet, nor did it have the sensational headlines as the Star. But it had the reputation of being a newspaper that presented the news in a fair manner. For a young journalism student, it was a dream job.
Nevertheless, she soaked up more about the newspaper business from eight weeks working there than all the time previously spent in the classroom. One of her main jobs was moving raw copy from the rewrite desk to the city desk to the copy desk, than pick up papers to send down to the composing room. At first, it was overwhelming, but in time, with these duties, she truly understood the process of creating a newspaper.
Lois also spent time with the reporters inhabiting the bullpen, some of whom had led fascinating careers and were simply waiting for retirement in order to spend additional time with their spouses, children and in some cases grandchildren. She respectfully listened to their stories of tracking down elusive subjects for interviews, garnering information from recalcitrant sources and fighting with demanding editors.
They taught her how to write a newspaper article with clean, concise copy by having her actually work with the rewrite team writing stories from reporters in the field and updating previous articles. Unfortunately, despite serious coaching, it was almost impossible to get Lois to ease up on her blunt, forceful writing style.
Despite this tendency for stark forthrightness, she impressed Phil Cromer the managing editor and he decided to let the rookie tackle a simple story, “Lane, there some fishy goin’ on at the Hobson Point animal shelter. My wife’s nephew got a yellow Lab puppy and the vet at that place told him it was healthy, but after only a few days, was actually pretty sick with distemper. They had to shell out a lotta cash to the Vet. You can just imagine how upset the family was. Especially after they told them the animal had had all its shots including one for distemper.”
Lois said, “What did the say at the shelter? Did they reimburse the money?”
“Nope. They just shrugged it off and said things like that can happen. It is a shelter.” Cromer growled.
“Maybe he’s right.”
He glared at her and said, “I checked with about six other people who got animals from there. All of their pets were sickly. So this wasn’t a one-time thing. The hardworking folks who go to those places are laying down around a hundred bucks a pop. Poke around. See what you can find out.”
Eager to prove she could do an outstanding job, Lois did more than just ‘poke around’, She pretended to be looking for a cat and the Hobson Point shelter said it would cost a hundred and fifty dollars to have the feline spayed, given a microchip and shots. Lois didn’t really want a pet, but as she looked at the animals in their cages her heart tugged with pity. One tiny kitten especially touched her with grayish body, black ears and black feet and sweet blue eyes. Before Lois realized what had happened she said. “Can … can I see that cat?”
Before Lois knew what was happening, the next day, after the spaying procedure had been done, the tiny meowing creature was placed in a lovely carrier with a tiger pattern on the outside. The carrier, shots and spaying the animal all for the ‘low cost’ of one hundred and eighty dollars. Thankfully, that went on the Metro Post’s expense account and not out of her pocket. After all, she was still a student.
Rather than going home, Lois immediately took the cat to a veterinarian and discovered of all these things, only the spaying had been done. A point in fact, the kitten was sickly and without a proper course of antibodies, the poor little creature would be gone in a short time.
Furious, and fighting back tears, Lois wrote a scathing piece and presented it to the managing editor. After reading it he said,
“Yeah, just as I thought. The whole shelter thing is a scam. I’m calling the ASPCA so they can close those creeps down. There are a lot of heartbroken kids with sick animals because of those thieves. Unfortunately, Lane, you’re gonna have to lighten up a bit.”
“Why? It’s a good article.”
Phil nodded with understanding but then replied, “Uh huh. Yeah, but if the bleedin’ heart members of the public gets a hold of this article the way it’s written, their gonna torch the joint. Don’t take story’s starch out, just the acid. Remember, it’s important to be impartial.”
Lois grumbled as she stalked away, “Whatever.”
***
She smiled at the memory. Afterwards, she was drawn to helping the rewriting team and other reporters at the Metro-Post write investigative articles that improved people's lives. Phil had been right, articles needed starch, not acid. It didn't take long before the shelter was shut down until honest management had been found. Fortunately, the kitten recovered and rather than living with Lois, took up residence with Mike and Rita, who immediately fell in love with her and named her Lily. She grew into a beautiful, elegant looking cat with the personality of a feline Indiana Jones.
Now here Lois was standing in front of the only newspaper building in the world that mattered to her. She glanced down at her watch it was 9:45am. Time to go.
With a deep breath and a quickly muttered prayer, she stepped into the revolving doors, entered the lobby, and march towards the elevator. Hoping this was the first step into a new job and a larger view of the world of journalism. Lois Lane had every intention of being a prize winning reporter and proving her father completely wrong.
Last edited by Morgana; 11/16/20 12:47 PM.
