Previous Chapter: Chapter 6TOCChapter 7
Lois tapped her pencil on her notepad and glanced at the clock on the wall again. 4:45 p.m. Her eyes darted to the elevator and then back to her computer screen. She clicked a few buttons and sent her story to Perry, just in time for the evening edition. She then stood abruptly and marched right into Perry’s office, ignoring the closed door.
“Perry, I—”
She cut herself off as Perry raised one hand and gave her a stern look. He held the phone up to his ear and seemed to be listening intently to whoever was on the other end of the line. Scowling, Lois quietly shut the door behind her and then crossed her arms over her chest, waiting as Perry nodded into the phone and muttered a few curse words under his breath.
“Yes . . . I see . . . Well, I don’t know, Henderson, your guess is as good as mine.” Perry shot Lois a probing look, but then turned back to his phone call. “Yessir, I will . . . For sure . . . Bye.”
He hung up the phone and took a deep breath.
“Lois, to what do I owe the honor of your presence in my office?” he asked sarcastically, peering at her over the top of his reading glasses. He glanced briefly at his computer and then spoke again before she had the chance to answer. “Ah, I see here you’ve sent me your story for the front page of my evening edition—which is due to go to print in”—he paused and made a show of reading the time on his watch—“thirteen minutes.”
Lois grimaced and stood silently as Perry quickly read through her story, mumbling to himself as he made minor changes here and there. When he finished, he looked up at her. His eyes studied hers, and she found herself backing up a step toward the door.
“Where was he, Lois? Where is that angle to the story?”
She lowered her eyes and shook her head.
“I—”
“You deliberately waited to send this to me until you knew it would be too late to make major changes to the story,” Perry added, drumming his fingers on the table. “I mean, Lois, this story is excellent. Well written and hard-hitting, as usual. But—
where was Superman, Lois?” He stopped and stared at her expectantly.
“I—I don’t know, Chief,” she admitted, keeping her eyes on the floor. She couldn’t risk her boss seeing her fear. Superman wasn’t only missing from this morning’s hostage situation at the train station, he’d also been AWOL for the rest of the afternoon, unreachable by any of her usual means. “Maybe he was taking care of some other emergency somewhere else?” she ventured.
“Lois—”
“No, Perry, listen. Superman is
not obligated to be here for every emergency! From where I was standing, MPD and the bomb squad had things under control and managed to mitigate the situation without any casualties, excluding the perpetrators. That should probably be considered a win! So Superman didn’t show. I’m sure he had a good reason. He’s not single-handedly responsible for all crime that occurs in Metropolis. Maybe he just needed a day off! I—”
“Lois!” Perry raised his voice, slamming his hands down on the desk and standing up abruptly.
She closed her mouth, and her face heated up with embarrassment. “Sorry, Perry.”
“It’s okay, Lois. Now look, I know how you feel. And I don’t disagree with you. But people want to know. And that’s our job, as reporters, to objectively report the news, even if we have our own opinions,” Perry explained, sitting back down in his chair. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully while clicking a few buttons on his computer. “The fact is, yes, Metropolis has come to rely on the big guy being here to help out with these kinds of situations. Maybe too much. Who knows what other commitments Superman has? I agree, it’s none of our business. But it is our business to report the news. And your story didn’t even mention the fact that Superman was needed, fifty-six hostages were in danger, and he didn’t show.”
Lois remained quiet, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“Now,” Perry continued, “I have no choice but to send this to print as it is, since we’re out of time, and I need my front-page story.” He shuffled a few papers around on his desk, his expression softening. “I know, of course, that you all are good friends, but we have to ask the hard questions, even if it hits close to home.”
“I know, Chief,” she mumbled.
“Speaking of close to home—where is that husband of yours? He never came back after meeting with his source this morning.”
Lois forced a confident look on her face and crossed her arms over her chest. She always had a prepared answer for Clark’s absence, though today she’d have to work to hide her anxiety and anger. She’d called him eleven times, left six messages on his cell phone, and spent more time than she wanted to admit searching the Internet for Superman sightings—with no luck. She had no idea where he was. But the lie rolled easily off her tongue, as usual.
“He called earlier and said he wasn’t feeling well, Chief. I actually need to get going, if that’s okay, to check on him.” The last part was not a lie. She bit her lip nervously.
“Of course, honey, go ahead,” Perry answered, concern in his eyes. “Please tell him I hope he feels better.”
“Thanks, Chief,” Lois said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Perry nodded and turned back to his computer. And Lois hurried out of the office, grabbed her purse off her desk, and took off toward the elevators as she, once again, dialed Clark’s cell phone number.
Thirty minutes later, thanks to Wednesday evening rush-hour traffic, she pulled up outside their home and threw the car into park. From the street, there were no visible signs that the brownstone may be occupied, and her stomach dropped as she considered that he may not be home. She quickly snatched her purse up off the passenger’s seat and headed inside.
“Clark?” Her voice shook slightly as she called out to the cold, empty house. Shutting the door behind her, she flipped on the nearest light switch, set her purse on the side table next to the couch, and jogged up the stairs. “Clark, this isn’t funny. Please, Clark, where are you?”
Bedroom—empty. Guest rooms—empty. Bathrooms—empty. Nothing was out of place. Nothing indicated that either of them had been home since that morning. Tears stung at the edges of her eyes, but she forced herself to maintain her composure. He’d been gone with no explanation before. This was nothing new. So why was she so anxious?
She hurried back down the stairs and into the kitchen, which again was undisturbed. Their coffee cups and plates from breakfast were in the sink, and the morning’s issue of the
Daily Planet sat neatly folded on the table, where Clark had left it, as always. She slowly stepped over to the table, her mind wandering as she pictured him laughing and smiling at her this morning while he’d teasingly critiqued her page-three article on the grand reopening of the newly renovated Metropolis Zoo. She set her hand gently on top of the newspaper, the familiar texture of the newsprint comforting her somewhat. However, her eyes narrowed suddenly as her fingers traced around the outside of a rectangular solid object underneath the paper. Hastily, she lifted the paper, gasping as his cell phone lit up. She snatched it up and quickly unlocked the screen, revealing notifications for a multitude of missed phone calls and text messages.
Her stomach lurched. He’d forgotten his phone at home this morning. She’d been calling and texting, and he hadn’t even had his phone on him. She shuddered and collapsed onto the bench seat at the table, unable to hold back her tears any longer. With shaky fingers, she flipped through his notifications, hoping to find some other clue as to where he might be. Her fingers froze as she saw a missed phone call and voicemail message from S.T.A.R. Labs, and she quickly dialed into his voicemail to listen.
Dr. Klein’s familiar voice sounded rushed and erratic, even more than usual.
“Clark, hi. It’s Dr. Klein from S.T.A.R. Labs. You probably already knew that since my phone number would have shown up on your phone. Right. Well, I was hoping you could get ahold of Superman for me. I needed to talk to him about something we’ve been working on together. He’ll know what I’m talking about. I mean, I assume he will. Although it’s been a few weeks since I’ve spoken with him, and I’m sure he’s been busy, so maybe he won’t. Anyways, please tell him it’s urgent. Because, well—ah, I can’t say anything. You understand, I know. Please, tell him to come in as soon as possible. Okay. Thank you.”The line went silent. Lois sucked in a breath and felt her chest constricting. What could possibly be that serious?
A sound from the doorway startled her, and she jumped up and dropped the phone onto the table, her eyes darting to her left. The brightly clad figure in the doorway stood perfectly still, a guarded expression on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Clark!”
She immediately rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, tears wetting her cheeks. He didn’t move to reciprocate the embrace, and his shoulders felt tense and stiff. But she didn’t care. He was alive. She kissed him on the lips and cheeks and neck and then closed her eyes and buried her head in his shoulder. He smelled of the ocean and of fresh snow, and with a start, she realized his skin was ice cold. She pulled back and raised her eyes to look into his. However, his eyes remained stubbornly fixed on the ground, his expression tight. Her hands moved to cup his face gently.
“Clark? Wh-where have you been?” She couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice. In the back of her mind, she realized she should be mad; she would usually be furious by now. He knew better than to just disappear like that. But she was too relieved to see him. She looped her arms around him again and shivered as she pressed her body up against his.
Finally, stiffly, his arms lowered from his chest and wrapped around her waist. She felt his hot breath on her cheek as he bent down slightly to kiss her, and as his lips brushed her cheek, she tightened her hold on him.
“I’m sorry I worried you,” he said quietly, his voice detached. He offered no further explanation, however, and she shifted slightly in his embrace to capture his lips in hers. Like his skin, his lips were cool and rigid, and he only briefly deepened the kiss before withdrawing and stepping away, out of her embrace. “I’d better get to S.T.A.R. Labs.”
His tone remained aloof, and she squinted up at him in confusion. Shaking her head, she reached for his hand, which now hung loosely at his side. She threaded her fingers through his and moved closer to him.
“Clark, no. Talk to me first. What’s going on? You can’t just show up here after being gone all day, without any explanation, and then leave again.” Her voice was laced with anger, and she realized she was closer to losing her composure than she’d thought. She took a deep breath to steady herself. He’d lowered his eyes again and was trying to gently pull his hand out of hers, but she held him tight.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, which did nothing to answer her question. Something inside him seemed to break, and a flicker of emotion briefly crossed his otherwise-passive face. He tugged his hand away from hers and turned toward the stairs, his movements stiff. “I have to go now. But I’ll try to be back as soon as I can, and then we’ll talk.”
“What? Nuh-uh. Nope, Clark, you can’t just leave! S.T.A.R. Labs can wait. We need to talk
now!” She strode over to him and placed both hands on his chest, pressing against the bright red-and-yellow ‘S’ emblem. A single tear fell down her cheek as she lowered her voice and begged, “
Please don’t leave.”
But he just shook his head and then stepped around her and bounded up the stairs. A moment later, his telltale sonic boom rattled the windows.
Lois fell to her knees on the living room floor, her legs giving out. Whatever this feeling was, she hated it. She crawled over to the couch and dragged herself up onto the plush cushions, wiping tears from her eyes.
Abandonment. Yes, that was it—abandonment, she decided.
She tucked her knees up to her chest and settled into the corner of the couch. He’d left her, knowing how much she was hurting, and he hadn’t cared one bit. He’d been cool and detached and . . . very much not himself. She closed her eyes and fought against the emotions warring in her chest. She couldn’t be angry with him. Something was very, very wrong. She’d just have to wait for him to get back home and then they could—
She shook her head in disbelief; she wasn’t one to just sit around and wait, who was she kidding?
Quickly, she pulled herself together, wiped the tears off her cheeks, and stood with conviction.
If he wasn’t going to tell her what was going on, she’d find out herself. And she’d start by meeting him down at S.T.A.R. Labs. She grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.
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