Chapter 4

I wake in the morning, amazed that I slept so long. I had only woken up once in the night and after realizing it was far too late to be wandering around downtown Metropolis in search of dinner, had gone back to sleep. Now I’m famished and in need of a strong cup of coffee.

But first, I need toiletries, I grimace to myself as I get up. I need a toothbrush and toothpaste, plus soap as I hadn’t thought to grab anything from my apartment yesterday and this wasn’t the kind of hotel that offered complimentary toiletries. As easy as it would be to just pop back as I have keys now, I don’t want to risk running into myself, or anyone else, while there.

There’s no clock in this hotel room, and I reluctantly turn my cell phone on to check the time. It’s a new phone so the battery will last a while, but I don’t have a charger and I’m sure they haven’t been invented yet. There’s also no wifi or cell connection available, turning the phone into an expensive camera, clock and calculator. However, as I turn off the power again and tuck the phone into the purse, it could still come in handy. Grabbing the hotel key and trying to zip the purse closed, I head out into the morning sunshine.

The first stop was a Costmart, an odd place to shop, as in a few years the whole chain would be closed after I expose it as a front for a crime syndicate in a Kerth winning investigation. I would have preferred to shop elsewhere but it’s the cheapest and closest to pick up the toiletries I need. Around the corner from the Costmart I stumble across a thrift store and manage to select several articles of clothing that are in good shape and priced within my budget, making the next stop a laundromat. Once there, I enjoy a hot cup of coffee and a muffin at the coffee shop next door while waiting for my new clothes to be washed.

I pull a newly purchased notebook out of the second hand purse I had to buy to hold everything, and impatiently tap my pencil on the paper. While I was sleeping last night, the Lois of this timeline asked Superman to love her as she loved him, and was turned down. I would have loved to take that moment back, but that would have been for my benefit and wouldn’t have helped Clark at all. Tonight will be Perry’s retirement party where Clark and I fight, and I tell Lex that I will marry him.

That was the last time I’d seen Clark.

I’d telephoned him out of desperation one night but the conversation had been awkward. His declaration of love followed by our horrible fight had irreversibly damaged our relationship and I’d never had a chance to repair it. Perhaps that’s how I’m supposed to fix things?

Though, if I remember correctly, Clark did mention that Perry would be staying with him, as ultimately it was Perry, with the help of Jimmy, and I’m sure Clark helped too, who discovered Lex’s ties to the Planet’s bombing. Jack had been released shortly after Lex’s death, though I hadn’t seen him again.

I jot down some notes on paper, wondering how I can intervene and what I’m supposed to do to help? Wells had only said I was here to help Clark, but could I expedite the investigation at all? Ultimately, the sooner Lex was arrested, the faster the Lois of this time would be free of his influence, and able to help Clark also.

As I continue to write down what I could remember of events from now until Lex’s death, a phrase pops into mind. A few years ago, in my own timeline at least, I had been interviewed by a university group after a guest lecture. One of the students had asked why I had persisted in several of my stories when it had seemed the odds were against me. I’d responded with ‘could’a, would’a, should’a.’ It was something I’d heard shortly before leaving the Planet and it had stuck with me ever since. In retrospect, I had explained to the students, if I could have done something, would I have done something, and should I have done something. I’d shortened it, but it had remained a mantra for many years and now it was not just calling my name, but shouting at me to pay attention.

“Could’a, would’a, should’a,” I mutter to myself as the buzzer for the dryer alerts me that my clothes are done.

****

Three days later the engagement notice of Lois Lane and Lex Luthor is published in various newspapers, as expected of a high profile engagement, but several magazines have also picked up the story. I had ignored them initially, but curiosity gets the better of me. I can’t afford to buy any of the glossy magazines, so I pick one up off the shelf in the grocery store and read it while I pretend to do some shopping. Looking at the photos they published, to an outsider I look happy, but I know inside I was questioning my every move. Had I only said yes because Superman had rejected me and I did it to lash back at him? Or on some level had I really thought Lex was a good match for me? Either way, I felt sick to my stomach looking at the photos and I quickly return the magazine to the rack.

As I leave the supermarket, a piercing cry draws my attention.

“Help! Please, someone help. My child is in my car!” I follow her outstretched arm and see a car speeding away from the parking lot.

“He stole my car but my baby is in the car seat!”

“Call the police,” a man shouts as another person runs back toward the store.

I dig into my purse, pulling out my cell phone on impulse and it takes me a moment to remember it isn’t going to work. I shove it back into my purse, feeling helpless as chaos erupts around me.

Several people have started their vehicles and are now speeding after the stolen car, while others try to comfort the frantic mother. Yet in the middle of the cacophony a once familiar exclamation rises from the crowd.

“Superman!”

I hear him flying by before seeing him swoop down, presumably after the stolen car. The crowd quietens a little as we wait to see the outcome, enough that we can hear the sound of approaching sirens.

A cheer rises as Superman flies toward us, cradling the child in his arms. He lands and the mother runs to him, sobbing and thanking him profusely as she gathers her child in her arms. She gives Superman a hug, which he returns before stating that he needs to return to the stolen car.

The gathered crowd gives another enthusiastic cheer and I find myself whispering his name in awe.

My heart skips a beat in fear as he turns his head toward me. Has he heard me? His hearing is legendary but does he know who it is? I can feel him staring at me, and I refuse to look at him directly, hiding below the brim of the baseball cap I’ve taken to wearing in public. Despite the long hair and obvious signs of aging, I’m still Lois Lane, and I’m concerned he will recognize me. I don’t know if having Superman find out there’s another version of Lois trying to muddle with time would be a good thing or not, and I don’t want to find out. I try to slip away from the crowd, my heart hammering in my ears and, as he flies away, I release the breath I’ve been holding before walking quickly away, wiping tears from my eyes.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been that close to the hero and it’s as though I’ve forgotten how astounding he is in close proximity.

Once I had returned to Metropolis after Lex’s death, Superman was still working in the city, but he never stopped by my apartment again. He would grant me the odd question at press conferences but the warmth in his eyes, the affection I had once believed he held for me, was gone. Without Clark to ask Superman to stop by, I had no way of contacting him personally, and eventually I stopped asking questions. Superman also began to spend more time further afield, and Metropolis, while he still was seen more frequently there than elsewhere, saw much less of him.

As my breathing returns to normal and I slip away unnoticed, I wonder if there’s a way to repair that friendship for Lois as well.