Previously, on part 4:
She rounded the corner to find both Mr. and Mrs. Kent huddled around Clark. Her partner’s eyes were mere slits. His face was flushed.
“What’s going on?”
“Clark’s allergies are acting up,” Mrs. Kent explained.
“You look horrible.” The words slipped out before Lois had the chance to consider how rude that sounded.
“The pollen count goes through the roof in November,” Mrs. Kent muttered.
Mr. Kent added, “Welcome to the country.”
“I just got this fax from Jimmy, but it’ll wait until morning.” She set it on the table next to what appeared to be a broken thermometer.
There was something strange going on here. Small towns were always odd places, full of eccentric people with secrets and other oddities. Somehow she expected Clark’s family to be above all that.
And now, part five:
The kitchen was empty when Lois awoke. She assumed that her hosts had arisen early to get the morning farm work out of the way. She ate quickly and returned to the guest room for a short exercise workout. She showered and dressed in her new country fare.
Clark looked a little better when he finally stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. Of course, better was a relative term. His face was still swollen and his color was pale. On the bright side, he looked more alert.
“How are you feeling?” she inquired politely as he slumped down at the kitchen table. He rested his face on his hands and closed his eyes.
He didn’t answer. The poor thing was probably so congested that he didn’t hear well.
She nudged him gently. “You okay?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been worse.”
“Not since I’ve known you,” she countered. “I’m going to drive over to the Irig farm. Jimmy faxed us a list of federal cleanup sites. Smallville, Kansas isn’t listed.”
“Just give me a few minutes before we go.”
“I’m going to fly solo on this one. You look like you could use the break. I’ll pick you up on the way back.” He started to thank her, but she continued before he had the chance. “It’s not like I’m not used to covering for you anyway. Why should today be any different than any other day?”
~*~
Lois began by returning to the Irig place. She exchanged barbs with the government’s watchdog, but got no farther than she had the previous day. She showed them her list; they showed her theirs, but didn’t give her any substantial information.
It was still early, but by the time she drove to the county courthouse it would probably be open. She glanced through the information that Jimmy had dug up before yesterday’s flight. The county seat was located in Erie, just like the name of the Great Lake.
It was only fifteen miles so, as long as there were no animals crossing the road or tractors taking up both the lane and the shoulder on a two-lane stretch of highway, she should be able to visit the courthouse and get back before Clark was dressed and showered.
She grabbed the map and traced the route up Highway 69. It would be a piece of cake.
~*~
Four hours later Lois pulled into the gravel path that led to the Kent farm. It wasn’t what she had learned at the county seat that was interesting. It was what wasn’t there. She couldn’t wait to lay out the facts for her partner… assuming he was feeling well enough to finish the story with her.
At least Clark didn’t appear to be like a typical guy, one who turned into a baby at the first sign of the sniffles. In all of the months she had known him he had stoically taken whatever ailments his body had dished out to him. She had never even heard him lodge a single complaint. In light of that, she was willing to take it on faith that he felt as bad as he looked.
She was pleasantly surprised to find Clark only dressed, but laying out on the Adirondack in the yard behind the porch. The way he was situated reminded her of the glory days of sunbathing from her childhood, when women not only didn’t wear sunscreen but also actively tried to turn their skin into a copper color. His eyes were closed but the smile on his face let her know that he wasn’t sleeping.
“How you feeling, sleepyhead?” she inquired politely.
He shrugged, opening his eyes to face her fully. “Normal.”
“I suppose normal is good.” She stowed her purse on the porch and perched on the steps. “While you were out here sunbathing, I’ve been hard at work. Irig is still missing, purportedly having been relocated to who knows where. ‘Don’t call him; he’ll call you.’ But you’ll never believe what I found at the county courthouse.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“Nothing.” She paused for effect, but Clark must not have been back to his full senses yet because he didn’t pick up as quickly as he normally did. “I searched through thirty years of records; paper, microfiche, and electronic; and there’s not a single reference to Wayne P. Irig using anything out of the ordinary. No permits. No complaints. Nothing.”
He nodded, slowly processing.
She didn’t wait for him to reach his own conclusions. “The government isn’t cleaning up toxic chemicals, no matter what their liaison says. So the question is, if they’re not digging around in the dirt to clean it up, then what are they looking for?”
“I did a little digging of myself while you were out,” he told her. His eyes looked guilty, like her barbs from earlier had hit their mark. “I called down to a friend of mine at Smallville City Hall. All of the farms around here are unincorporated, but just in case an error was made I wanted to make sure that we had looked everywhere.”
“Wait a minute. You didn’t have to go their in person and show them your I.D.? They just gave you sensitive, personal information over the phone? What kind of a place is this?”
He shrugged. “The gal who works in records is an old friend of the family. Mom buys organic, free-range eggs from her.”
“Organic, huh?” Lois shuddered, having seen them in the refrigerator this morning while she was getting a glass of milk. “Is that why they’re green?”
Clark tipped his head back and laughed. She didn’t get the joke. “No, no.” He finally managed to explain between leftover chuckles. “The eggs are green because different breeds of chickens lay different color eggs. I don’t remember which breed lays the green ones.”
“You don’t remember?” she taunted him, a little put out that he found her city ways so very funny. “I thought you had this amazing photographic memory that didn’t let you forget anything.”
“I suppose I’ve never taken a picture of the actual act of the chicken laying the egg. So do you want to know what I found at City Hall?” She nodded. “Nothing.”
“We’re definitely onto something here.”
“I don’t know, Lois. What if we’re not finding anything because there’s nothing to be found?”
“That’s just your allergies talking. Your reporter’s instincts were talking yesterday. There’s a story here, Clark. I can feel it. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
~*~
It was Lois’ turn to work the crowds at the Harvest Moon. So far she hadn’t uncovered anything, but there were still several hundred people to interview.
The crowd started to disappear as her partner approached.
“Where’s everybody going?” she wondered.
“One of the favorite contests is about to be held, the Back Seat Driver Competition. Come on, I’ll show you.”
She followed him until they found the crowds again. Then, he took her by the hand and led her to where his parents were reserving a few seats for them.
She looked out to see an obstacle course laid out in a field. There was a selection of mini-tractors at the start of the course. Maybe it was one of those small ones that they just used to mow the lawn when the front yard was a few acres in size. Behind each tractor there was a little cart.
“The driver is blindfolded,” Martha explained. “Their partner sits in the cart and gives directions. They compete for the best time.” She smiled broadly. “You ought to try it.”
Lois shrugged. She wasn’t interested. “I’ve never driven a tractor before,” she explained.
“I thought you would be better at telling Clark where to go,” Martha innocently said.
When she put it that way, it sounded much more appealing.
Clark shrugged. “I’m game if you are.”
“I don’t know,” she hedged.
“If you win, you’ll be a hero. People will be much more likely to help you get your story,” her partner cajoled.
Jonathan stiffened.
Lois eyes narrowed. Did her host not want them to win? Perhaps it was more than that. What if he didn’t want her to get her story? The suspicion that Clark’s family had something to hide from her deepened.
He noticed her eyes on him. “My money is on Ruby Greer and Bitsy Cox. Those sisters practice all summer long.”
Lois relaxed. He just didn’t want to lose a bet.
“Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge,” she decided. “I’m in.”
~*~
No one had ever mentioned how incredibly uncomfortable it was to trail behind a tractor in a cart, although it was one of those things that should probably be assumed.
The first part of the course was the most difficult, both by design and by the fact that they hadn’t worked out a system of communication, yet. Clark wasn’t fazed at all by the laughter from the crowds, but Lois was decidedly unnerved--particularly because she was certain that she could pick out Jonathan Kent’s guffaws above everyone else’s. Apparently he found it very entertaining how safe his money was.
By the middle of the course Clark had suggested that every direction be preceded by a 3-count. By the end of the course Lois had changed from giving “Left” and “Right” to “9:00” and “3:00” to allow for more subtle course corrections.
When it was all said and done, the applause turned out to be louder than the laughter. Maybe their dignity was safe after all. Their announced time far fell short of the frontrunners’, but perhaps wasn’t so far behind that they didn’t have a shot at being in the top few rookies.
Clark’s grin was infectious as he yanked off the blindfold and jumped off the tractor. He offered her a hand out of the trailer. She magnanimously accepted.
“Next time, you drive,” he suggested.
“I’m not the tractor type,” she reminded him.
“So we’ll use your Jeep on the back streets of Metropolis.”
“What’ll you do when your directions cause me to run over a fire hydrant? Remember to return a video?”
He mused for a moment. “I’ll probably end up doing the backstroke.”
“What do you think that Henderson would have to say when he found out about it?”
“Before or after Bobby tells him that you were blindfolded at the time?”
Lois grinned and then directed him back to work. It was time to woo the crowds out of everything they knew.
