*******
This has been an incredible journey of growth as I have learned so much from those of you who have supported me and provided me with your ideas and insight.
Especially, I need to thank Laswa. And can you believe it, words fail me to describe how incredibly wonderful she has been during this process. To her I dedicate this story.
I want to encourage all of you to read the citations at the end as I believe much credit is due others --
Barb.
***
From Part 20
Clark turned Lois to face him. “I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you. I’ve never stopped loving you, not even for an instant. And I will go on loving you for the rest of my life,” he told her gently, putting his hand up to cup the side of her face. “Marry me now. Right here, right now--in front of all of our friends and family. I can’t live without you. I was so wrong to push you away. You mean everything to me. Please, please say yes.”
***********
***********
Now for Part 21
Smallville, Kansas
Saturday,
February 26, 1994
10:15 p.m. CST
Clark pulled Lois into his arms and kissed her. Through the kiss he whispered: “Lois, I love you. Marry me.”
Tears welled up in Lois’ eyes as she stepped back to stare at the incredible man who once again had asked her...asked her to... She closed her eyes. Was the Jinx at long last over? Should she tempt fate and... <Stop thinking, Lois> she shouted at herself. You have spent your adult life risking everything for your work, for the causes you believe in. Risk now! Feel! Don’t think!
Clark waited, hoping against hope.
Lois looked up at him with confidence in her eyes and in a warm and steady voice said: “Yes, Mortimer. I’ll marry you,” she began, looking deep into his eyes, “...right here, and right now.”
Martha Kent slipped her arm into her husband’s, smiled up at him and mouthed the word “finally”.
From the wings, Beatrice Drake, now fully “recovered” from her so-called illness, moved closer to the entrance to watch along with the other cast members already in the places Martha Kent had directed they take for this added scene.
Lois and Clark joined hands and turned to face Dr. Mock.
“We are gathered together in the presence of family and friends to join two incredibly extraordinary people in a life-time of togetherness,” the minister began. “They have made a commitment to making this world a better place and because both of them are an active part of our community and have found love here, our world *is* a better place.”
Jimmy stepped up and gave two rings to the Reverend.
“Will you...,” the minister began, winking at Clark, “...Mortimer, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?” Dr. Mock asked Clark. “Will you love her and cherish her as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Clark responded, slipping a ring onto Lois’ finger.
The audience sensing something unusual, looked at one another.
One audience member in particular realized that the Smallville Players had moved from enacting a play into real life. And, if it were real life, then his father...his father *had* been arrested.
“And will you, Elaine, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? And will you love him and cherish him as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Lois said breathlessly, looking into Clark’s eyes and then sliding the ring on to his finger.
Jaxon Luthor slipped out of the auditorium and ran out to the parking lot. Two men whom he had previously hired were leaning against the car waiting for his signal--a signal that was supposed to take place at the end of the play. Jaxon opened the car door and leaped into the back seat. “Head for the sheriff’s office fast!” he yelled.
***********
On stage, the Reverend Mock looked at the couple in front of him and smiled. “Earlier tonight, right in this very room, I spoke about Aunt Abby and Aunt Martha’s kindness and generosity,” he reminded them. “Let me now wish that for the two of you. Be kind to each other and be generous with your support, your understanding, your time and most of all with your love,” he urged them looking around at all the friends and family on the stage and at those in the audience.
Lois and Clark once again their hands joined, beamed at each other, scarcely breathing--their eyes holding fast onto one another as if for dear life--as if they could never get enough.
“At this time, by the power vested in me by this state,” the minister intoned. “I now pronounce you, man and wife.”
Clark turned toward his wife and put his hands up to gently cup both sides of Lois’ face and slowly and tenderly drew her to him, kissing her softly.
***********
The three men arrived at the sheriff’s station just as Rachel Harris and her deputy were escorting their charge from the patrol car. Jaxon’s two associates pulled out guns and forced the two holding Lex Luthor, to back into the sheriff’s station. Rachel and her deputy were placed into a holding cell while Jaxon made his way out of the front office with the sheriff’s keys in his hands.
“You two take the patrol car and follow us,” Jaxon ordered as he uncuffed Lex. My father and I have some unfinished business.”
***********
While the two aunts asked Mr. Witherspoon to join them in a last drink to the bride and groom--the lines that Martha and Clark had rewritten to segue from the wedding scene back to the author’s ending of the play; Lois and Clark hand in hand exited the stage. They turned to look at each other. “Hi wife,” Clark said.
“Hi husband,” Lois echoed, putting her arms around his neck.
Clark kissed her passionately and then pulled back. “You’re okay with this, right? I mean it isn’t exactly as we had planned.”
Lois looked down at the ring that Clark had slipped onto her finger a few moments before. “No, not like we planned--better. Clark, it was *perfect*. It was super,” she told him smiling. But I guess from now on you’re Mortimer and I’m Elaine.”
“Well, Elaine is a pretty name and is at least is somewhat close to your real one. But being stuck with Mortimer,” he smiled. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Hey, is this legal?” Lois asked. “I mean with Dr. Mock using those names in the ceremony.”
“Yep,” Clark told her. “You’re not getting out of it that easy. You know that sign-in sheet that Mom stuck under your nose before tonight’s performance. That was actually the marriage license. And as long as that has our real names on it, and Dr. Mock finalized it with his signature after the ceremony, the wedding is legal.”
“So I’m really your wife, and you are my husband,” Lois said and leaped back into his arms to kiss him again and again and...
Clark pulled back once more and cocked his head.
“What is it?” Lois asked, all too familiar with that look.
“Sheriff’s station!”
“Go! We’ll do the curtain call without you. Be careful and hurry back.”
***********
Superman landed at the sheriff’s station and rushed inside. He bent back the cell’s bars and released Rachel and her deputy.
“Where’s Luthor?” he spat out.
“I’m not sure Superman,” Rachel responded. “I overheard something about unfinished business.”
“The theatre,” Superman said, getting a molten look in his eye and taking to the sky.
***********
The cast took their bows and exited the stage. The audience, family, friends congratulated the actors who taking flowers and presents with them, departed from the theatre. The various members of the Smallville Players were to come back on Sunday to participate in strike and a cast party--slash--wedding reception. But tonight they were off to parts unknown. Martha and Jonathan Kent began picking up strewn programs, shutting down lights and closing up the auditorium as Lois helped gather up costumes and props.
“Well, if it isn’t Lois Kent,” Luthor sneered. “Jaxon told me all about it.”
Martha, Jonathan and Lois turned to see Luthor, Jaxon and two other men standing on the set. Luthor strode around the Brewster living room glaring at the three Kents as the two men held guns on them.
“And where’s the *lucky* bridegroom?” Lex spat out and receiving no answer, turned viciously to accuse Jaxon. “You’ve botched this up as usual,” Lex sneered at his impotent son. “When will you learn to know your enemy well enough to predict their every move.”
“Take that rope over there and tie them all up,” Jaxon ordered the two henchmen, ignoring his father’s outburst and securing one of his subordinate’s guns.
The thugs tied the three hostages to chairs.
“Him, too!” Jaxon said indicating his father.
“What?” Lex yelled out.
“You didn’t predict *this*. Did you, father? It’s not my name that’s been added to the list, but yours. I’m giving the orders now. You’ll simply have to take the bridegroom’s place--something you’ve been itching to do anyway,” Jaxon said and turned to the other two men. “Take the car and go to the airport. I have a small plane waiting. I’ll be along soon. I’m anticipating one more victim. And I want the pleasure of assassinating the last five myself.”
Jaxon’s underlings exited as commanded.
“Yes,” Jaxon said to his captives. “All I need is one more, that’s all--just one more. Isn’t that your line from the play, Dad?” Jaxon asked. “Just one more,” he repeated. “Number thirteen.”
As if on cue, a whoosh was heard and Superman crashed through the ceiling of the auditorium.
“Let them go, Jaxon,” Superman said forcibly, crossing his arms across his chest.
Jaxon smiled. He put the gun down on the table behind the couch in the Brewster living room, and took a lead box out of his coat pocket. A piercing pain shot through Superman as Jaxon opened the metal container and walked deliberately toward the man of steel.
Lois strained at her ropes as Superman collapsed into a heap on the floor. “Please,” Lois sobbed. “Don’t do this!”
“Good job, son,” Lex called out. “Now stop this nonsense and untie me!” his father demanded of him.
“No!” Jaxon responded.
“You do what I tell you...you insignificant, inept little nonentity!”
“Insignificant! Inept! Nonentity!” Jaxon growled back. “*I* was the one who funded Gretchen Kelly’s experiments to resurrect you. *I* was the one who had all of your enemies killed--Bill Saxon, Mayson Drake, Vivian Cox, Dr. Baines. And it was I who eradicated all the people that stood in our way--Aunt Barb, Sheldon Bender, Gretchen, and Nigel,” he sneered, his face reminiscent of his father’s in its heyday. “You... have...done...nothing!” he said spacing out each word for emphasis. “It was all me and only me.”
Lex surreptitiously fidgeted with the ropes that bound him while pretending to be engrossed in his son’s tirade.
“All my life,” Jaxon continued. “All my live, you’ve been ashamed of me and treated me like your bastard child--the son from the left side of the blanket. But I was your legitimate heir--the offspring of a noble line--the only seed of your loins--the eventual patriarch of your descendents. Why did you, in fact, disown me? Now, now it will be my pleasure to discard you! But first....”
Jaxon walked even closer to Superman, box in hand. The rays radiating over the edge of the receptacle continued to impact on the man of steel, causing him to writhe in pain.
Lois felt what could only be described as a cannon ball settling in the pit of her stomach as she shared the pain that was causing Clark to curl up into an agonizing fetal position as she tried to make eye contact with him. “No,” she moaned, every fiber in her being aching alongside Clark’s.
“Don’t,” Martha Kent whispered, adding her entreaties to Lois’.
“Please, Jaxon,” Lois begged again, forcing herself to exert pressure on the ropes that secured her to the chair. “This is killing him. You can’t....” she pleaded, wanting desperately to reach out to Clark, to hold him. “Jaxon, don’t do this. You have your whole future ahead of you. You don’t have to impress your father by becoming like him. You can be better than him. You can make something out of your life--make it have some meaning--make a difference.”
Jaxon walked over to Lois and slapped her across the face. “I’ve wanted to do that since you first came to Smallville. I already meant something in this town. I *was* important and you--you spoiled everything,” he said striking her again.
“Leave her alone,” Superman gasped. “Don’t hurt any of them, I’m...I’m begging you.”
Lex’s bonds gave way just an iota.
Jaxon chuckled. “The man of steel, begging. See, Dad,” Jaxon said, looking at his father and pointing to himself. “This insignificant, inept nonentity has Superman at bay. And now I will finish everything,” he sneered taking a few more steps toward Superman’s crumpled body. “Since all of you are so theatrical, I believe the appropriate metaphor is that I’m ringing down the final curtain.”
“Close the box,” spoke a determined voice from behind Jaxon.
All faces turned toward the sound to see Miss Libby Barton standing there with Jaxon’s gun in her hand. “Don’t even think of moving,” she told Jaxon. “According to all the stories around here, I’m not at all opposed to using this thing.”
Lex Luthor gave one last tug, and the ropes gave way. He leapt to his feet.
Libby turned on him abruptly. “Don’t,” she warned, pointing the gun directly at him.
Lex took a few steps toward her. “I don’t believe you *are* capable of violence,” Luthor ridiculed.
“You’d be surprised at what I can do when I have to. Don’t make me prove it.”
Luthor laughed sadistically, continuing to move toward her.
“You are an evil man.” Miss Libby said evenly, without emotion. “And you’ve sired an evil son. I should have recognized from the beginning that we’re related.”
Lex stopped his gradual movement in her direction. “Related?” he asked.
“Yes, dear,” Miss Libby said. “You, I am sorry to say, are my son. And you...,” she spat out, scrutinizing Jaxon. “...are my wonderful grandson,” Libby Barton said bitterly, a trace of sadness in her voice that could probably only be detected by those who knew her well. “Old Laslo Barta would be incredibly proud of both of you.”
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Sunday,
October 30, 1938
7:37 p.m. CST
The music on the radio swelled up and out as the Barton family, still gathered around the Philco, listened intently, waiting for the updates on the invasion from the stars.
##### ANNOUNCER: We interrupt our production to introduce our producer and director, Mr. Orson Welles.
ORSON WELLES: This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen, out of character to assure you that The War of The Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be. The Mercury Theatre's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying Boo! Starting now, we couldn't soap all your windows and steal all your garden gates by tomorrow night. . . so we did the best next thing. We annihilated the world before your very ears, and utterly destroyed C. B. S. You will be relieved, I hope, to learn that we didn't mean it, and that both institutions are still open for business. So we’ll return to our story and remember the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian. . .it's Halloween. #####
“Yes, it’s Halloween,” said Laslo Barton coming into the living room. “I thought I’d leave my attic hideaway and join in on the fun,” he said holding a revolver in his hand. “My children...” he said, looking at all of them “...seem to have been playing trick or treat and I guess it’s now my turn.”
Gun shots rang out as Laslo turned the gun first on his daughters, then his sons. Libby Barton with Jinx in her arms ran into the hallway and cowered in the corner by the cellar door. “Don’t, grandfather,” Libby begged.
“Grandfather,” Laslo sneered. “I guess it’s time you knew, little one. I’m not just your grandfather. I’m much more. I’m an oddity like those Martians talked about on that radio program you seem so fond of. And you’re an abomination, Libby because I’m also your father. You’re probably too young to understand, but your mother, that is my daughter and I...”
Libby became numb.
“Your mother died because of you...and because of me. Your Aunts had me drugged with their elderberry wine all these years and imprisoned in the attic where they kept me barely alive. I guess they couldn’t really kill me. Which is strange because they killed so many others--anyone who came close to our hideous secret, and they had poor Linus bury the bodies in the cellar. They told everyone I had died and put one of the recent corpses into a casket and had it buried. They hoped that by doing that, they had also buried our depravity.”
Libby backed up a few paces and held on more tightly to Jinx who struggled and hissed.
“But a few months ago, I finally won out,” Laslo told her. “I died!!!!. But your aunts, couldn’t leave me to rot in a hell of my own making. Leticia, who had riled against the malignancy that was her father--was seduced by the divine power that resurrection would provide. She had found the journal--the journal which chronicled my failures. You see, I was being paid to find the secret of eternal life. I never did,” he said almost wistfully. “But Leticia discovered the answer. Remember, little Libby, she was the one who always had the knack for mixing things,” he explained laughing.
Libby looked left and right but saw no way out. The evil expression on her grandfather’s...no ...her...her...father’s face chilled her to the bone.
“Now I’m here to bring justice by eradicating this family and especially the anathema, the monstrosity I created--you.”
Libby couldn’t move, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel.
Laslo Barton walked toward her, gun raised. As he approached her, Jinx leapt from her arms and attacked the older man. Backing away from the onslaught of the claws reaching out for his face, Laslo stepped back over the threshold of the cellar and careened backwards down the stairs. A shot rang out and the bullet pierced the heart of the debauched man.
They were dead, they were all dead. Twelve-year old Libby Barton slowly and cautiously moved down the stairs, picked up the gun and returned to the kitchen.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Saturday,
February 26, 1994
11:40 p.m. CST
Sixty-eight year-old Libby Barton slowly and cautiously held the gun on the two Luthors. “I’ve always wanted to be a great actress, she told the assembled group, and my first part was as an aunt who killed men with elderberry wine--how ironic. *My* aunts also had a fondness for elderberries and murder.”
“Put the gun down,” Martha told Miss Libby. “You really don’t want to kill anybody.”
“I have to, Martha,” Libby Barton told her. “I was once told I was an abomination, not meant to walk this earth, that I wasn’t even human. I’ve lived with the memory of monsters all my life--my father, Lex’s father. *They* are the abomination. I know that you’ve always wondered why I only read stories of depravity. Maybe it made me feel more human, less depraved. Humanness I have finally discovered is based upon caring and loving. Neither Lex nor Jaxon can love. But I can now. I finally love this town and all of you who opened your hearts to me. It’s only been for the last two months that I have felt human. So I have to do this.”
Superman groaned as the Kryptonite continued to impact on him.
“Now *you* close that box,” Libby told her grandson.
Jaxon shut the lid of the lead container, stopping the bombardment of rays.
Lex Luthor took the opportunity while everyone’s eyes were on the box to make a lunge at Libby.
She turned instantly and fired the gun. Lex fell to the floor, dead.
Jaxon rushed to his father. As detestable as Lex had been to his son, Jaxon still needed him in his own sadistic way--needed him alive to prove his own existence, his own power. He kneeled down and seeing that his father was dead, turned and moved quickly toward the murderer. Libby’s gun rang out again and Jaxon was propelled over and then down. He lay dead, sprawled on top of what used to be his father.
Superman had tried to stop the bullets but could not move. The other prisoners were equally prohibited from intervening.
Miss Libby bit her lower lip and stared at the bodies heaped on the floor. How reminiscent it felt. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the carnage and she slowly sank to the floor.
“Untie me, Miss Libby,” Lois said softly. “Let me help the others. Let me help you.”
The remaining member of the Barton family rose slowly. “I’m not done,” she informed them.
“No, don’t,” Superman told her, realizing what she was going to do by the resolute expression on her face.
“It has to end now!” Miss Libby told them forcefully. “Don’t you understand? Don’t any of you understand? I’m dying anyway. Let me choose the way I go out. Let me end this!”
She looked around at each of them and chanted:
Libby Barton took a gun
And killed her family, everyone.
“You can’t,” Martha said.
With great difficulty, Superman rose to his knees. “Miss Libby,” he said. “I’m not going to let you do this. Whatever it takes, I’m going to stop you.”
“I don’t think you’re strong enough yet, Clark, or fast enough,” she said, staring at Superman. “Yes...yes I know,” she explained as the Kents eyed her. “I’ve known since the day Clark arrived here on earth.”
Lois gaped at her.
“I have never told anyone, Lois. I just couldn’t. I had lost a child, or so I thought and knew what wanting a child felt like. I saw the light in Martha’s eyes when she first held you, Clark,” she continued, turning to him, “and I couldn’t take that away from her. And, as you became first a young child--a caring youngster who didn’t chide me like the rest--then a teenager who helped with my yard work, carried my bundles, and delivered books--how could I reveal your ancestry? Then six months ago, you became Superman. Why would I destroy that? You have been a model for us all--someone to pin our hopes upon--someone who stands for truth and justice,” she finished and paused.
Libby looked down at the gun.
“Don’t,” Lois begged.
“It’s my turn to stand for justice. This is justice and my final curtain,” Miss Libby said and turned the gun on herself and began to pull the trigger.
Two red beams emanated from Superman’s eyes and Libby Barton dropped the red-hot gun just as the door flew open and Rachel Harris and a deputy burst into the room.
***********
***********
Epilogue
Smallville, Kansas
Friday,
March 4, 1994
10:15 a.m. CST
The Barton house four stood at the front of the classroom. Their presentation was the final one the American Literature class would hear covering this particular assignment. Over the past five days Ms. Lane’s students have been discussing “The House of the Seven Gables” and the various houses and families of Smallville, Kansas. And now it was their turn.
Cindy Brady, Emily Cox, Keith Haley and Tom Mock looked at each other and Cindy took a step forward.
“In reading ‘The House of the Seven Gables’,” Cindy began. “We sort of feel satisfied by the ending of the romance. Everything seems to be just perfect. Holgrave gets back his traditional family property--the house of the seven gables. The old curse over the Pyncheons is gone. The order restored. The Judge dies, Phoebe and Holgrave will even marry and therefore tie the two very different families together. Hepzibah and Clifford escape the house of the seven gables to live on a beautiful country estate. But why does this bother us?”
“We are upset,” Emily Cox said, taking over. “Because maybe it’s too perfect. The influences of the past upon the present cannot simply end with the reestablishment of the right order. The past and its curse keep on working on the characters and those that come in contact with them. It was a happy ending, but it seems a concession on the part of Nathaniel Hawthorne--a concession to his readers. Are all endings happy?”
“For the past two months, Keith, Emily, Cindy and I...” Tom stated. “...have been studying the house at 417 Maple--the house that belongs to the Barton family. Our research has led us far afield--to Hungary, to a radio broadcast of H.G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’, to Roswell, New Mexico, to our own auditorium’s presentation of ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ and most of all to one woman’s personal hell.”
“Hawthorne seems to believe that past misdeeds cannot fully become reversed,” Keith explained as he stepped forward and opened the book they had been studying to page 313. “‘If, after a long lapse of years,...” he read. “...the right seems to be in our power, we find no niche to set it in’,” he finished putting the book down.
Lois smiled as she listened to the four students. She realized that they and the few new friends of Libby Barton had learned much and had experienced much in the last few months. The mystery behind the door at 417 Maple has been revealed to a select few and its influence felt on many. She took a deep breath. Were the four going to tell it all?
“The four of us believe that we are supposed to think that the sins of the fathers do visit upon the children,” Keith continued. “And all of us sitting in this room need to reflect on that idea. Are we, as young people, burdened by what went on before us? Or can we also believe that lives can change and that it takes a lot of courage and support from others to overcome those sins? Hawthorne’s book is an exercise in dichotomy. Things are never what they seem. Appearances and reality are not the same. Good is evil and evil is good. What we think we know is not necessarily the truth.”
The four students looked at each once again.
“We discovered the truth, but it’s a truth with happy and unhappy endings,” Keith explained to the class. “And, it’s a truth that will remain locked away.”
“Some of us believe that the ending of this book we have been reading is anything but happy for the characters,” Tom stated. “Oh, yes! The bad guy dies, the good guys get each other. But even the good guys have lost so much. They have lost feelings, lost ideals, lost a liberal philosophy.”
“But,” Cindy added. “There are those of us who believe that the reader hasn’t lost. The reader has gained something--hope. Hawthorne’s irony gives us hope. A hope that’s especially important for each of us sitting here--a hope that the transgressions of those who came before us will serve as a lesson,” she added, picking up the book and reading. ‘And wise Uncle Venner, passing slowly from the ruinous porch, seemed to hear a strain of music, and fancied that sweet Alice Pyncheon--after witnessing these deeds, this bygone woe and this present happiness, of her kindred mortals--had given one farewell touch of a spirit's joy upon her harpsichord, as she floated heavenward from the ‘House of the Seven Gables.’
Smallville, Kansas
Sunday
April 17, 1994
8:20 a.m. CST
The newest doctor on the staff of Smallville General hospital limped slightly as she walked down the hall and approached the door to room 221 and entered slowly and quietly. She grimaced a bit as she felt a slight pain in her leg. After several operations as a child, the only residue of her birth defect, was her left leg’s lameness and occasional aches during times of bad weather.
Liz walked over to the bed and took the chart off the end of the bed and leafed through the pages. Last stage, Ovarian Cancer she noted. The doctor glanced over at the orders and saw a DNR notation--a do not resuscitate and the name Martha Kent as power of attorney.
Researching further back into the chart, she read once again the medical history of the patient. No childhood diseases, no early hospitalizations. Caesarian section and birth of twins on April 1, 1948 at Roswell Municipal Hospital.
Liz moved over to the side of the bed and took the feeble woman’s hand in hers. She looked up to see Martha Kent entering the hospital room.
Libby Barton opened her eyes and saw the two women hovering over her. She closed her eyes for the last time as the monitor beside the bed beeped once more and then flatlined.
Dr. Liz Lathrop walked over to the window and watched the sky empty a spring rain on the pavement below. She turned to look at Martha Kent who was gently arranging Libby’ hair; and turning back, Liz Lathrop closed the curtains.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Thursday
April 21, 1994
4:30 p.m. CST
The Smallville Players encircled a newly dug hole in front of the Cherry Orchard Clinic. Jonathan Kent steadied a sapling Cherry Tree in his outstretched hands. Martha opened the urn containing Libby Barton’s ashes and sprinkled them into the opening that would soon house the young tree.
Jonathan Kent placed the Cherry Tree into its spot next to the three others whose pink Cherry blossoms were just freshly budding.
“Libby Barton,” Martha began, “is finally at rest. She’s far away from the monsters and demons that had invaded her life. In one of Libby’s favorite books, H.G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’, the curate asks. ‘What does it mean?..., What do these things mean? ....Why are these things permitted? What sins have we done?’”
The friends of Miss Libby watched Martha, waiting patiently for her to continue.
“Miss Libby believed that the sins of her fathers continued on in her. A little twelve-year old girl took on the troubles of her family and tried to make amends. She struggled as do the rest of us with sin and punishment, with lies and truths, with injustice and justice. Are there answers, answers to guide us? Wells’ book searches for answers as we all search. ‘What good is man if we collapse under calamity?’, the book tells us, ‘Think of what earthquakes and floods, wars and volcanoes, have done before to men!’ And yet we endure.”
Tears collected in Martha’s eyes. Jonathan put his arm around her shoulders and Clark took her hand.
“Does H.G. Wells give us answers? The only response from the narrator is ‘There is still hope’. And I believe in hope for us all and I know Libby did, too. She found hope in the last few months of her life and none of us should let her down. We have to continue to hope as we all face life together.”
Clark took a shovel and turned the soil around the sapling. He passed the shovel on to some of the other theatre members who had gathered to remember Libby Barton. Each took a turn adding earth to ashes under the budding tree.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Tuesday,
April 26, 1994
11:25 CST
Lois put her head on her husband’s chest as they snuggled in their bed. She draped her arm around him and sighed, then tilted her head up and began to kiss him.
“Again...,” she murmured.
“Hey! I’m not sure I have the strength. After all I’m only human,” he said laughing.
“More...” Lois moaned, as she kissed him again and again.
“It’s a good thing I *am* Superman. I don’t think a normal man could keep up with...”
“Shut-up,” Lois teased, kissing him harder.
“Your wish is my command, Lois,” he said, kissing her deeply and rolling over on top of her.
“I love you so much,” Lois told him after they had made love for the second time that night.
Clark smiled. “Lois, you are the most important thing in my life,” he said kissing the top of her head as she snuggled into him again.
Lois looked at the clock on the bedside table. “Happy Anniversary,” she told him,
as the digital clock turned over to 12:00.
“Huh?” Clark asked.
“It’s been two months since we got married, and I have a present for you,” she said smiling. “You remembered our one month anniversary and gave me that wonderful crystal case to enclose my beautiful quartz rock. So now this month it’s my turn.”
Lois hopped out of bed and went to the closet. She pulled out a large package all wrapped in Christmas paper. It had reindeer, snowmen and several Santa Clauses printed on bright red paper.
“What’s this?” he asked her smiling. “Isn’t it a bit late or early for Christmas.”
“I know how you love Christmas,” Lois told him. “So I thought I’d give you an early present.”
Clark sat up and unwrapped the gift. He lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a smaller box. Clark glanced at her. “You’re crazy, and I love you,” he told her smiling, and proceeded to open box after box.
Inside the smallest box was an envelope. Clark glanced at Lois and then opened it.
Merry Christmas Daddy,
I’ll see you on the 25th of December
Signed: Christopher or Noelle.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Wednesday,
April 27, 1994
6:30 a.m. CST
Dr. Liz Lathrop walked gingerly down the hall of the Smallville Medical Building and approached the door labeled Dr. Post. Due to the morning rain, her leg was cramping up. She knocked gently and then opened the door and entered Dr. Post’s office.
“Here are Mrs. Kent’s charts,” she said handing the material to the doctor. “Was she as pleased as you believed she would be when you told her of the positive results yesterday?”
“Yes,” chuckled Dr. Post. “I was my brilliant self when I informed her. And as expected of these gallactically stupid 20th century simpletons, she exhibited unbridled enthusiasm over an elementary biological quirk of nature.”
“Did she take the, uh...pre-natal vitamin supplements with her?”
“Duh, of course. How dare you question my capabilities,” he said, rising and crossing to her angrily.
The woman stood her ground as he walked toward her with an evil expression in his eyes.
“I found you and brought you here so you can get what’s coming to you. In return, you are to be my font of medical knowledge and do what I tell you to do,” he demanded and then continued with a litanous discourse about his plans.
Liz ignored his diatribe as her mind thought back to this depraved man’s arrival literally on her doorstep. She knew that he was sure it was his facile flow of promises and his hypnotic allure that had assuaged her to leave the only home she had known and travel with him to this place.
He believed her to be a simple, docile, naïve woman. But Liz could never be considered a victim--an easy prey for men to take advantage of. Her beginnings and her education had been geared to insuring that she would be empowered, that she would be the intellectual and strategic superior of any man--a dominant force in her own life and in the lives of those she touched. No one, especially no man, would make her cow tow--make her less than what she was.
When they had arrived in Smallville several weeks ago, she had received the guided tour of the edifices that would become the cornerstone of her existence and of her power, once she eventually seized her proper role in the community.
She, as rightful heir to the Luthor fortune, had seen Lex’s stronghold and had walked by the house at 417 Maple, the last of which held a particular attraction for her. Unbeknownst to her supposed mentor, she had secretly returned to the latter, and had stealthily obtained access to its interior coming away with several secrets that the house contained.
She smiled at Dr. Post as if she acquiesced to her subservient role and slipped her hand into the pocket of her uniform. Her fingers encircled the round globe-like sphere and she could just about feel the barely discernable vibrations that emanated from within its core.
Liz Lathrop would serve her so-called master and would wait patiently until the opportune time to take control.
***********
Clark cradled his wife in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, once more, and then raised her face toward him to capture her lips again.
Lois snuggled securely against him. She eyed the clock and sighed. The alarm would soon ring and they would have to get up in order to get ready for school. She loved teaching and she loved the students; and, she usually looked forward to getting to work especially since the man she loved worked there as well. But last night had been wonderful. They had basked in their love and in their extreme happiness and she wanted desperately to dawdle some more.
The clock changed to 6:45 and the alarm sounded just a split second before the radio blared on.
##### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML with the news. University of Michigan scientists state that recent experiments utilizing animals have proven that time travel is possible. Dr. Hardy of the University’s Marshall Laboratories states that... #####
Clark gazed lovingly at his wife as she turned back to him and then held her even more closely. “I love you, little one,” he said leaning down and kissing her tummy. “And I love you,” he said pulling Lois into his arms and giving her a gentle kiss.
Lois reached out and turned the radio off. As she did so, her arm knocked over a small amber vial that perched on the edge of the nightstand.
Lois turned back and kissed her husband again. Not able to stop there, the two deepened the kiss and Lois realized that preparation for work would simply have to wait.
The amber vial rolled over and over and finally came to rest against the back leg of a chair, label side up. It read: Take one a day with breakfast. Dr. Tim Post
**************
Tim Post walked over to the window of his office and looking down, examined what he would term the bucolic, provincial farming citizens who, as ritual dictated, were getting an early start on their day. “And if Smallville History 101 serves me,” the time traveler continued. “I’m here at exactly the right moment to prevent...” he chuckled evilly. “...prevent the progeny of that perfect passionate pair from creating that beautifully beneficent but boringly overrated utopian society,” he explained as he reached up to take the cords in his hand and then dramatically closed the curtain.
***********
Martha Kent had gotten to the bookstore quite early that morning. Something told her that it was going to be an eventful day and she had much to do. She hadn’t even had a chance to unpack her last shipment of books and shelve them.
Jinx number five, relaxed now in his new home, curled up beside Martha who had squatted down on the floor to begin her work.
Martha opened the box and began to take out the books one by one. This was one of her favorite parts about owning a bookstore--the anticipation as she touched each book and perused the titles that would soon open a child’s eyes to the wonder of the world around him, or bring back bittersweet memories to an older person’s life, or challenge the opinions and beliefs of a stagnant society to see the options that creativity could invoke.
This shipment was no exception. She gazed at the book titles and thought back on the events of the last few months: Chekov’s ‘The Cherry Orchard’, Hawthorne’s ‘The House of the Seven Gables’ and H.G. Wells’ ‘The War of the Worlds’.
Martha opened the last book and read a quotation by H.G. Wells on the inside cover of the book jacket. “Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe.”
The bell over the door tinkled and Martha looked up surprised. She hadn’t thought she had unlocked the door.
There in front of her stood a diminutive man in a dated suit, and bowler hat. Jinx scooted over and rubbed against the legs of the visitor welcoming him. The stranger leaned down and stroked the cat, then walked over to the window and opened the curtains to let the spring sunshine in and, smiling turned to cross toward Martha.
“Mrs. Kent,” the man said. “I see you’ve been reading my book.”
The End.
***********
***********
Watch for Smallville Players IV: Encore
Coming this Fall.
I know that many of you may gloss over the citations -- but I encourage you to read these as you may find some of what is cited below interesting.
Citations:
Of course, you will all recognize our beloved characters and pieces of dialog from Lois and Clark: The New Adventures. (1993-1997) Specifically credited as writers are: Dean Cain, Brad Buckner, Eugenie Ross-Leming, Grant Rosenberg and Chris Ruppenthal.
The little poem cited at the beginning of the story and within the fanfic is an adaptation of the children’s rhyme: ‘Lizzy Borden took an ax and gave her mother forty wacks’ --- source unknown.
‘The House of the Seven Gables’ is by Nathaniel Hawthorne and was first published in 1851.
The theatrical play “Arsenic and Old Lace” is by Joseph Kesselring, originally presented by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse at the Fulton Theatre in New York, on August 18, 1941, starring Josephine Hull, Jean Adair, Alan Joslyn and Boris Karloff is used here through permission of Dramatists Play Service. No lines in the play have been altered as to content but are exactly word for word as the author wrote them--other than to remove references to Brooklyn and change New York City to Metropolis and the New York Times to the Metropolis Star. One character’s name in the play was altered from Officer Klein to Officer Cohen--having a play with a Jonathan and a Martha was enough confusion.
The radio play “War of the Worlds” is based upon the novel of the same name by H.G. Wells and adapted in 1938 for The Mercury Theatre of the Air by Howard Koch and Orson Welles with cast members Orson Welles, Ray Collins, Joseph Cotton, John Houseman, Agnes Moorhead, Paul Stewart and Everett Sloane. (Some additional adaptation, once again utilizing the sites and sounds of Metropolis in lieu of New York City, have been freely made by this author.)
The Newscasts related to the Hindenburg (1937), the UFO Washington D.C. sightings (1952), the Jupiter space shot (1994) and the Gamma Ray phenomenon (1994) are directly from newscasts and newspapers of the day.
Information utilized regarding the Roswell, New Mexico incident and members of that community is from a variety of newspaper articles and the Roswell, New Mexico web site.
Clark’s lecture on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire (1911) is from a newspaper account of the event (again altering the site from New York City to Metropolis) and utilizes this writer’s knowledge of Frances Perkins.
The laws cited by Veronica Kipling are real laws that are on the books today in the state of Kansas. There actually *is* a Lang, Kansas.
The utilization of Puck’s last speech from William Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ (1595) is a traditional incantation to eliminate theatre ghosts, to overturn broken theatrical superstitions, and to insure success.
A portion of the Barton House Four’s class report was from information gathered out of an essay on ‘The House of the Seven Gables’ written by Jan Helten, September 1999.
The quotations utilized at Libby’s memorial service was directly from H.G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’ (1895). The quotation Martha reads from the inside book jacket of Wells’ novel is from H.G. Wells’ ‘Outline of History’ (1920).
