I'm doing something I haven't done before - I'm posting the first pages of a story I'm still writing. I started it in early November, and it's coming along, but slowly. Hopefully, putting it out here for you to read will force - er,
encourage - my muse to get with the program. Actually, my muse keeps getting distracted by other little stories on the side.
Anyway, here it is. The first section is barely ten pages long, but it's a logical place to stop. You'll see what I mean when I post part two. <g>
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What if… ?
You know, I really shouldn’t say any more than that <g>. I don’t want to give the story away. So you’ll need to read and find out what my particular “what if” is. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Many thanks go to LabRat, for her extremely fast beta-reading and her encouraging comments. And to Wendy, for her encouragement. And to the members of the message boards at
http://www.lcficmbs.com for their helpful answers to my questions.
Oh, and Tank – there’s a haircut in here <g>.
The characters in this story *still* don’t belong to me; all rights belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. And I still don’t actually have permission to borrow them, either. But no copyright infringement is intended and this story is strictly for entertainment purposes, not for profit.
------------------------------ The Girl Next Door -----------------------------
Lois Lane had a secret.
A whopper of a secret, one she’d spent most of her lifetime keeping.
It wasn’t actually too hard to keep, either, but for that she probably had Mad Dog Lane to thank.
-----
Lois Lane was good at secrets.
She was the top investigative reporter for the Daily Planet, the world’s largest and most widely read newspaper. She had climbed to the top of her profession through a mixture of ability, luck, and sheer gritty determination.
Lots of natural ability. She’d always had a knack for turning mere words into powerful tools. Powerful weapons, and powerful forces for change. For making things right.
A small amount of luck. She’d grown up in Metropolis, had attended Metropolis University and earned a journalism degree, and had been lucky to land a summer internship at the Daily Planet. It had given her an advantage when she’d graduated and applied for a reporting job at the paper.
Lots of determination. Although many people would probably call it sheer pig-headed stubbornness. Whatever. It had worked.
But she’d also earned a title. Mad Dog Lane. She was actually kind of proud of it, although she never let on that she was affected by it when she overheard it.
At twenty-six years old, she was hugely successful, had several awards for outstanding journalism under her belt, and had been blessed with above-average looks in addition to her intelligence.
But she was also alone.
It was her choice. She’d had to fend for herself from an early age, and it had colored her adult life. She stood alone. She didn’t need anyone. She wasn’t interested in a relationship, and was accomplished at getting that message across to any man who dared step out of line.
She didn’t need friends.
It was that prickly independence, the walls she’d erected around herself that had created the Mad Dog title. Her coworkers thought she was cold and unfeeling, standoffish. That was fine with her. They left her alone to do her job, and that was what she wanted.
It was what was safest.
It guaranteed that her secret stayed that way. Secret.
-----
Lois’s earliest memories were bittersweet. She remembered Mama, but the glorious full colors of that time when she’d been the happiest had faded into pale watercolor hues. Always beautiful, but muted with time.
Mama had died when Lois was six. Mama had always been frail and ill, but it hadn’t stopped her from surrounding Lois with love and laughter and hugs, fairy tales and kisses and short little outings to their favorite park.
Most of what Lois remembered was in short little snippets, like little video clips designed to tease viewers into seeing the whole movie.
---
“Mama, will you read to me?” Lois asked, climbing carefully into the chair where Mama was sitting. Mama bruised easily, so Lois always made sure she snuggled under Mama’s arm instead of sitting in her lap, and she always made sure her shoes were off before she climbed up into the chair.
“Which story will it be, sweetie?” Mama asked. She smiled her lovely warm smile, which lit up her pale and thin face, transforming it into the face Lois imagined her guardian angel must have.
“The one about Princess Elizabeth, who goes out and fights the dragon and saves the prince, even though he’s a real stinker,” Lois said. It was her favorite story. Mama had told her the story for as long as she could remember, and had given her the book when Lois turned four.
Princess Elizabeth was smart, and tough, and she knew how to do the right thing. When the prince wouldn’t fight the dragon, the princess did it herself. And she didn’t even have dragon-fighting clothes on.
That was the kind of princess Lois would be, Mama always told her. She wouldn’t sit around waiting for some prince to do the right thing; she’d do it herself.
---
Lois was kind of scared. Her eyes were doing funny things sometimes. Rubbing them didn’t help.
“Is it happening again, sweetie?’ Mama asked.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, helping Lois color the pictures in her coloring book. Mama would color a picture, and Lois would color a picture, and then they would hang them on the refrigerator. Lois always picked the Snoopy magnet, and Mama always picked the Woodstock magnet. Mama called the refrigerator their art gallery, which Lois thought was funny. A refrigerator was a refrigerator.
Mama would tell Lois that if a refrigerator could also be an art gallery, a little girl could also be anything she wanted to be, when she grew up.
Lois had stopped coloring and was pushing at the wood of the table with her pointing finger. The wood looked mushy, but it didn’t feel mushy. It felt like a table.
“Mama, can a table also be a window?” Lois asked. “Because I can kind of see the floor through it.”
Mama’s thin and tired face creased into a frown, but Lois knew Mama wasn’t mad. Mama was trying to figure things out. That was how Lois looked when she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tried to figure things out. It was just a figure-out face, not a mad face.
“I think it’s one of those special things about you, Lois,” Mama said. “It’s like Princess Elizabeth. She was smart and beautiful, and special, too.”
“But *she* didn’t have see-through eyes, Mama,” Lois said.
“But she *was* born special, Lois, just like you,” Mama said, smiling her angel smile. “She was the only one like her, and you’re the only one like you. And she did good things. Just like you would do, if you were Princess Elizabeth.”
She frowned her figure-out frown again.
“But remember, sweetie, you can’t tell *anybody* about your special eyes, okay? Princess Elizabeth had a secret weapon, her brain. She didn’t tell the dragon what she was going to do. You can’t tell any dragons, either. Can you remember that?” Mama asked. “Some dragons look like people, so don’t tell *anyone*. That way no dragons will find out. Can you do that, sweetie?”
“Yes, Mama,” Lois said. “I’ll remember. I won’t let any dragons trick me.”
---
“Tell me the story again, Mama? Please?” Lois asked, as Mama tucked her in.
Mama smiled at her, and brushed Lois’s hair back from her face.
“You’re my own real live baby angel, sweetie,” Mama said. “I found you, or maybe you found me.”
“Tell about the spaceship, Mama,” Lois prompted, smiling.
“I was nineteen years old,” Mama began. “I was all alone in the whole world. I never knew my father, and my mother... she wasn’t around either. I never even knew my real name. The state of New Troy gave me a name because nobody else knew what my name was, either. I lived in a lot of foster homes, some good ones and some... with dragons living there.”
That was the part of the story that always made Lois feel sad. Mama was like an angel. It made Lois sad to think of little-girl-Mama living in a sad place, or a bad place.
“But I was okay, sweetie,” Mama continued. She knew how that part of the story made Lois feel. “I knew the story of Princess Elizabeth. I knew I could –“
“...do anything I decided I could do,” she and Lois finished together.
Mama leaned over and kissed Lois on her forehead, then continued with the story.
“I moved out of the last foster home and found a job, and a place to live,” she said. “I saved my money, and I went to Centennial Park for fun. Nature is free and it’s better than any other show if you know how to watch,” she added.
She had always told Lois that, and Lois knew it was true. Mama and Lois spent a lot of their free time in the park, walking or sitting and watching. If you sat still and watched, you could see birds, and squirrels, and even imagine you could see the flowers growing.
“One day, when I was leaving the park as it got dark, I saw a shooting star,” Mama said. “I felt special, because the star came across the sky right where I was looking. Like I might be the only one who saw that shooting star. I imagined that it was just mine.”
Lois smiled. Mama was coming to her favorite part.
“As I walked toward home, I realized that maybe the shooting star had actually landed. There was a smoky smell and a sort of glow in the trees near the lily pond in the park. Over where we feed the ducks,” Mama continued.
“I went over to look. It wasn’t a star at all,” Mama said. “It was you, my own angel baby, in your own little spaceship. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I touched the top of the ship, right by the window where I could see you looking up at me. And the top opened up, and there you were. A dark-haired little baby angel.”
“I didn’t know if you were a real angel, but you looked like a human baby. You *were* a human baby, and somebody had put you in a rocket ship and sent you into space all alone.” This was the part where Mama sounded fierce, like she was fighting dragons. “I knew what it was like to be alone. To have no one who loved you. I looked at you, and I promised I was going to do what was right. I was going to take you home with me, and protect you, and love you, and never let someone send you out all alone in the dark.”
Lois sighed. It was the same big, happy sigh that Mama sighed when they were snuggled together in the big chair.
“Tell the rest, Mama,” she begged.
Mama smiled her angel smile, and finished the story. “I picked you up and took you home with me. When we got there, I got a big garbage bag, and we went back out to the park. I pushed the ship into the bag. It wasn’t very big, your ship... you were a tiny little thing. It was kind of hard getting you and the bag back to my apartment, but I managed it.”
“I kept the ship for a while, waiting to see if somebody would snoop around at the park,” Mama continued. “I wasn’t going to give you up for anything, and I didn’t want anybody else to use your ship to send another baby off all alone.”
She sighed, a tired sigh. Mama got tired easily, even when they were just sitting and talking.
“I kept the ship until about the time you started to walk,” she said. “By then I had a stroller for you, one of those old-fashioned ones that look like a buggy. I used it for our groceries because both the groceries and you fit in it. So one day, I put the bag with the ship in it into the buggy, and you and I went for a long, long walk. I left the bag at the city dump, among about a million other black bags that looked just like it.”
“And that’s the end of the story,” she said, “and time for you to go to sleep.”
“Tell me about my name, please, Mama?” Lois begged. “And then I promise I’ll go to sleep.”
Mama smiled at her. “I went to the library with you, and I looked through a couple of books of baby names,” Mama said. “I chose your name because ‘Lois’ means ‘good’, ‘better’, ‘wanted’, and ‘desired’. And you were all those things, beautiful girl. You *are* all those things. You are good. Want and desire mean the same thing, and I wanted to keep you. And you have made my life so much better.”
“And ‘Lois’ also means ‘battle maiden’, sweetie,” Mama finished. “You are special, Lois, and strong - strong enough to do what’s right, to fight dragons. You’re my own special angel baby with special things you can do, and you can make the world a better place. And now, good night, little angel girl,” Mama whispered, and Lois hugged her carefully.
“I love you, Mama,” she said.
“And I love you,” Mama said. “Never forget that.”
---
“Concentrate, sweetie,” Mama said. She was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, across from Lois, and holding her hands. “Focus on me, Lois. Look into my eyes and listen to me, just to me.”
Lois clung to Mama’s hands. Her face was streaked with tears, but she’d managed to stop crying. She looked into Mama’s eyes, her blue-sky eyes that made Lois feel so safe.
“What do you hear now, Lois?’ Mama asked. She began to hum, the song she sang when she was tucking Lois into bed at night.
“I hear you humming, Mama.” Lois said. “And I hear your heartbeat, like when we snuggle to read.
“Good girl,” Mama said, smiling her special Mama angel smile. “That’s how you turn it off, sweetie. When the noises get too loud again, focus on just one noise. Then the other noises will go away. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mama,” Lois said. “I can do anything I decide I can do.”
Mama’s angel smile got brighter when Lois said that. “Or that needs doing,” Mama said. “And don’t ever forget,” she continued, “you can’t tell anyone. Will you remember that?’
“Yes, Mama,” Lois said. “I won’t let the dragons know what I can do. Then if I ever need to use my extra-noisy ears, I can do it and the dragons won’t even know.”
---
“Mama, do you want me to read to you?” Lois asked. Mama was resting on the couch, and she was getting all fade-y looking. Not real fade-y, like looking through things, but paler and thinner and more tired. Like a cloud unraveling in the sky.
“Yes, sweetie,” Mama said. Her voice was all fade-y too. “Read me Princess Elizabeth’s story.”
Lois carefully scootched the step stool closer to the couch, so that her head was right by Mama’s head. She opened the book and began to read to Mama, who smiled her angel smile as she listened.
When the story was over, Lois laid her head on the couch next to Mama’s, and she rested one of her arms carefully over Mama’s arm. Mama turned her hand and squeezed Lois’s hand. They stayed that way a long, long time, until finally Mama moved, turning so she could look into Lois’s eyes.
“You need to remember, sweetie,” she said. “Remember that you are special. Remember that I love you, my beautiful girl, more than the whole wide world. Remember that you can do whatever you decide you want to do. Remember to always do what needs to be done, especially to stop the dragons. And remember to never, never tell about your special extra things, okay?
“I won’t forget, Mama,” Lois whispered.
She could feel the tears starting in her eyes. Mama wasn’t going to be able to stay much longer. They were running out of time.
Mama’s eyes were starting tears, too. Once again, Lois tucked her head up close to Mama’s, and they stayed that way a long, long time. Snuggled tight and crying.
Saying goodbye.
---
Lois stood solemnly at the graveside. Mama wasn’t here any more. She’d turned into a real angel, and Lois knew Mama was watching her from heaven.
“I won’t ever forget, Mama,” she whispered as the casket was lowered into the grave. “I won’t ever forget that you love me. I won’t ever forget about the dragons. And doing what’s right. I promise.”
“Come now, Lois,” Dr. Lane told her. “It’s time to go.”
Lois looked up at Dr. Lane. Mama had fixed it so that Lois would live with Dr. Lane and her husband, who was also Dr. Lane.
Dr. Lane – the lady doctor – was Mama’s doctor. She and Dr. Lane – the man doctor – had no children of their own, Mama had told her. They wanted to adopt Lois to be their own little girl, Mama had said.
“It will be okay for you to be their little girl too, Lois,” Mama had said. “That’s the nice thing about love. You can keep giving it, and the people who already have it won’t lose it.”
Dr. Lane, the lady doctor Lane, was a nice lady. Lois had been to her house many times. At the end, Mama and Lois both stayed at Dr. Lane’s house. Mama had explained to Lois that the doctors would adopt her, and that her name would change to Lane. That was okay, Mama said. The name she had before was only a borrowed one, anyway.
“But not your first name, Lois,” Mama had reminded her. “That’s your very own name to keep forever. I gave it to you, and I chose the best one I could find. So you’ll always remember how special you are, and how much I love you.”
Now the doctors were leading Lois to the car, the big black one that Mr. Dr. Lane drove. Lois bit her lip and climbed into the back seat. She was going to be strong, so Mama would be proud of her. She was going to fight dragons when she grew up.
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to be continued
