As Mr. Griffith droned on about Civil War battles and their effect on America’s economy, it was all Clark could do to keep his eyes at half mast. After a few moments, he was dully aware of a constant prodding in his back. He turned around to see Jeff Denoso poking him with the end of his pencil (The pointed end of course, no blunt eraser for Jeff). A moment later a folded piece of paper skimmed across his desk and Clark heaved a sigh. He had outgrown note passing about six years ago. Against his better judgment, he opened the note and read its contents.
Where’s the hot chick you were showing around? She a new transfer? You’d better watch out, she know you’re a queer?
Clark crumpled the note and with a quick, unseen movement turned it into dust.
God, he missed Lois.
For the rest of the lesson he ignored the insistent prodding on his back, the words of the history lecture, and his own torn heart as he instead focused wholly on remembering exactly the look on Lois’ face when she had told him she loved him.
He wondered if it was too soon to call her.
In Metropolis, Lois was experiencing her final day of vacation and school couldn’t come soon enough. She had returned home to find her mother in a drunken stupor and her father AWOL. Lucy had been in her room, dulling the pain with loud, obscene music which echoed tinnily down the hall and into Lois’ room.
Nobody, save for a nod from Lucy had acknowledged her when she had walked in the door. No hug, no thank you, no “thank goodness you’re all right and were rescued by a farmer’s son.” Nothing. Which was actually worse than intrusive questions, if she got right down to the heart of the matter.
But had she really expected anything else? She walked into the kitchen and bypassed the grimy dishes piling in the sink. Picking the cleanest knife she could find, she spread some peanut butter on wheat bread and brought it into her room, locking the door behind her.
Her father had returned, finally, at 4 in the morning. Ellen Lane had passed out on the couch, Lucy was asleep with the headphones still jammed firmly in her ears and Lois was lying awake in her bed, one hand fisted firmly around the locket.
School was a welcome respite and Lois spent the day chasing down interviews for her story on the increase of winter car accidents and assigning stories for the rest of her newspaper staff. To be back in the journalism room, even if she was only typing run of the mill feature stories, was heaven. After she had finally deemed her story perfect, Lois slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and headed home. The blinking light of the clock read 6:00 and the school was blissfully quiet.
But even the constant activity hadn’t allowed her mind to stray far from chocolate brown eyes and those mind blowing kisses…
So when the phone rang later that night, Lois nearly flattened Lucy in her haste to answer it.
“Hello?” She answered, slightly breathless and mouthing an apology to her sister.
“Lois?”
“Clark!” Lois quickly took the extension into her room and shut the door, ignoring Lucy’s curious stare. “Clark!”
“Lois! Lois!” Clark mimicked teasingly and Lois let out a happy burst of laughter. “Oh my gosh, Clark, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. You got home okay after I left?”
Lois thought back to her welcoming—or lack thereof—and rolled her eyes. “Yeah I’m fine. I can’t wait for school though; it’s so boring at my house.”
Their conversation continued in this vein, comfortably picking up where they last had left off. Twenty minutes later, Lois could make out Martha’s voice shouting for her son. Clark called back and came back on the line, sighing regretfully.
“Lois? I have to go; Mom wants me to bring the tractor in before the rain we’re supposed to get.”
“The work of a farm kid is never-ending, right?” She teased him gently. Clark let out a short laugh and then his voice softened a little. “I really do miss you, Lois.”
“I miss you too, Clark. Thanks for calling.”
“Bye Lois.”
“Bye Clark.”
There was a click and Lois leaned back against her headboard, wishing she was still in Smallville, Kansas.
When she finally came out of her room, phone in hand, her father blocked her passage. His eyes were slightly red and she could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Who was that?” He asked civilly enough.
“Just the kid from the house I stayed at in Kansas,” Lois responded warily.
Sam Lane stumbled slightly, and righted himself with a hand on the wall. He was in bad shape. Lois maneuvered herself under his arm and helped steer her wayward father to the couch.
“You just stay here Dad; I’ll get you something to eat.”
Her sister’s slim hand covered her shoulder for a moment. “I’ll get it Lo; you just take care of Mom.”
Nodding absently, Lois went over to gently shove her mother out of the room. She was ranting on and off about her father, the same arguments Lois had heard a thousand and one times. Nodding sympathetically, Lois maneuvered her mother onto the bed and returned with three aspirin and a glass of water. Her mother downed the tablets with the sense that she’d done it before, countless times and Lois felt a raging headache of her own coming on. She shut the door to the room and returned to check on her sister.
Her father was snoring on the couch, an empty plate beside him. Lois exhaled, relieved that the crisis was averted. Glancing around the room, she absently straightened a pillow until she noticed Lucy cradling her arm, rubbing unconsciously at a discolored, violently purple bruise.
“Lucy! What happened? Are you okay?”
Lucy nodded, but didn’t disclose anymore information. After consistent prodding from her older sister, she finally gave in, exasperated.
“It’s from Dad, okay? From when you were gone.”
The words struck Lois with the force of a physical blow.
“It’s okay, Lois. I was out late, I didn’t call,” Lucy gave a mirthless chuckle. “Of course it was the one night Dad was actually home. But I’m fine, Lois. Stop worrying.”
And with that, Lucy avoided her gaze and exited the room abruptly, leaving a stunned Lois in her wake.
Her father had never been physically violent before, but the bruise on her sister’s arm left little room for doubt. Choking back a sudden onslaught of tears, Lois ducked back into her room and tightly clutched her locket.
The week passed uneventfully after that night, and Lois could almost begin to forget it had ever occurred in the first place. Clark had called nearly every night and they spent hours talking on the phone, discussing everything and nothing. Lois toyed with the idea of telling Clark what had happened with Lucy, but the thought of his reaction was enough to quiet her. He’d be furious, and for now, she just wanted to forget.
On Sunday night, when the phone rang, Lois bounded out of her room, looking frantically for the phone. It was 8 p.m., Clark’s usual calling time. The phone wasn’t on its stand, nor was it in her bedroom. When it stopped ringing a moment later, she had to fight back disappointment… until she saw her father, the phone raised to his ear.
She could only hear her father’s part of the conversation, but immediately she realized that something was very wrong. He was slurring slightly and Lois could only imagine what Clark was thinking. However her fears abated after her father had demanded who was on the phone. To her absolute relief, he shoved the phone at her and trudged down the hallway.
“Hi Clark,” she said finally.
“Lois, hey,” Clark drifted off and she could tell he was troubled. “Was that your father?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I tried to find the phone.”
“It’s okay,” Clark was silent for a moment and then he probed a little deeper. “You’re okay, right? He hasn’t been yelling at you?”
Lois thought back about the past week. Her father had actually been nearly alcohol free. Well, for him anyway. At least he hadn’t drunk himself into a stupor lately. Though she was slightly worried about his slurring earlier on the phone. As if reading her thoughts, Clark voiced his own concern.
“You’d tell me if you were in trouble, right Lois?”
Forcing herself to inflect a smile into her voice, Lois wholeheartedly agreed and the subject drifted to more pleasant topics. Finally they said goodbye, and Lois waited until she heard the click of Clark’s phone before she jabbed the off switch herself. She was curled up on the couch in the living room, and was about to flip on the TV before her father stumbled in.
Without preamble, Sam Lane’s eyes narrowed. “Just what went on in Kansas?”
At the question and the tone, Lois bristled. “None of your damn business.”
He reached a hand up and smacked her on the face. Lois’ eyes widened but she didn’t cry out. The cool air from the window felt freezing on the heated flesh and Lois had to gulp back tears.
“Don’t talk to your father like that, bitch.”
Despite her better judgment telling her to avoid the confrontation, her spirit and instinct wouldn’t allow it. She stood up, squaring her shoulders. All her fear for Lucy had been transformed into a sudden anger. “You’re not my father. Not in any real sense of the word. In Kansas I saw what a real father was, what a real family was!” She was shouting now, and vaguely she saw her mother and sister watching from the hall. “And a real family cares about each other. They talk to each other and solve their problems through talking, not alcohol! This isn’t a family, this is a dysfunction!”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could claw them back. Her father’s eyes were now cool steel and completely sober. Which, in a way, was more frightening than the glazed drunkenness. He grabbed her arm in a vice and manhandled her into her room.
“No more communication with this family, with this boy,” Her father said calmly. “You obviously can’t handle speaking with them. And I won’t have this disrespect in my home.”
“Your home!? What home is this? The home where you beat your children and spend the night drinking? You can’t stop me from seeing him!”
Lois jutted her chin out defiantly and Sam Lane’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it, Lois. Cease all communication with them.”
“I’d like to see you try and make me!”
Her father regarded her with steely gray eyes. “How about this? If I find out you’ve met with him, spoken with him or written to him or his family I’ll refuse to pay your college tuition.”
The fire in Lois’ eyes died somewhat as she looked at man in front of her. This cruel, resolute man couldn’t be the father who had once told her bed times stories. For a moment Lois wondered what had happened to push her family so far off the beaten track.
“You know I’ll make good on that threat, Lois. And you have your heart set on Metropolis University. You’re good at journalism… but not good enough to get a scholarship.”
Lois was horrified to find the tears pooling in her eyes had spilled over onto her flushed skin. “Why… why are you doing this?” She managed to choke out. For a moment she thought she saw her father relenting, a softening of his posture. But the idea was gone a moment later when he spoke coolly and detached.
“You say I’m not your father, I say you’re still my daughter. And whatever went on in that farmhouse isn’t making its way back to my door. I’ll not have a pregnant, unwed daughter!”
“What makes you think I was sleeping with him?!” Lois was shocked at the accusation, her voice rising with the stress of the confrontation.
Her father gave her a distant appraisal. “Why else would he have let you stay?”
Lois’ mouth dropped open, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.
“No more contact, Lois. Or you can kiss your dreams of becoming a journalist goodbye. The army is recruiting, they’ll take you.”
Lois slammed the door, its crash resounding ominously through the house. Stunned, she slid down against the door frame, collapsing in an ungracious heap on the floor. And then the tears came, silent and sending wracking spasms throughout her entire body.
