CHAPTER FOUR: HUNCH (Wednesday)
See Chapter 1 for story headers.
Lois waltzed into work the next day a renewed woman, or at least a less disgruntled one, and Perry White was the first person that crossed her path.
"Morning Lois," he said. "Crashed any events lately?"
"Ha, ha," she deadpanned, "and, I need to meet with you today." Okay, she was feeling a little playful. "Stat."
"Stat, huh?" he said, eyebrow raised and interest piqued. "What about?" Lois drew a little closer.
"The nursing home article."
He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Leave well enough alone, Lois," Perry sighed, already tuning out.
"No, really -- I think I might have stumbled on something big while looking into the abuse." Perry paused, intrigued.
"I think I might have a few minutes after lunch. Meet me in my office at one, sharp." He looked up. "Oh, and Lois, see if you can get me that education article early. We might be able to fit it with our school themed "Lifestyle" Section on Friday."
"Sure, Boss -- as soon as I get back to my office," Lois called, flashing a giddy grin, and then flitted towards her office. Tossing her purse to the side, she logged into her computer with jolly panache. She would get the best of this...career lull if it was the last thing she did. She looked at the box of files from yesterday, shrugged, and then picked up the receiver.
"Hello...Yes. Lois Lane...Is a Shirley Bates available?...Yes, please." She waited to be connected and then had the stunning realization that she wasn't really prepared. This is what that degree is for, she thought as she heard a breath on the other side of the phone.
"Hello. Shirley Bates. How may I help you?" the woman said on the other side.
"Hello, this is Lois Lane, with -- "
"I know who you are," the woman said, matter-of-factly, but rather blankly. Lois didn't know if that was good or bad, but soldiered on.
"If you had a moment, I was just calling to find out what the general procedure for containing communicative disease is in area hospitals and health-care facilities," she asked. "It's for a general purpose story I'm doing."
"Well, Ms. Lane, I appreciate the fact that you are coming to the source." Lois was surprised; to call her job thankless was an understatement. "We have three tiers of operators: the federal, state and local level. Our organization is operated from the bottom up, with several main areas of concentration: Bioterrorism, Chemical Agents, Radiation Emergencies, Natural Disasters and Epidemics...." Blah, blah, blah, Lois thought as the woman droned on. The truth was that she knew these procedures like the back of her hand. She would hardly be a reporter if she didn't know the mechanics of major agencies. Even what she didn't know would be a search engine away. She had researched this much on her cell-phone. She waited for the woman to take breath...three minutes later.
"Fascinating, Ms. Bates. So, to apply it to a real life situation," Yeah, that sounded natural. "Why would a group of CDC officers walk into a, say, convalescent center." There was a pause.
"Dunno, could be anything."
That's it? Lois thought. "For example?"
"I don't know," Shirley replied, distractedly. "Got something in mind?"
"Um, not really," Lois fumbled. She felt the end of the conversation drawing near and by the most generous estimates had learned approximately nothing. "Is it a common occurrence?"
"Could be," Ms. Bates said. Lois was losing her.
"And by 'could be' you mean how often?" Lois asked.
'Mmmm, depends," she answered.
"Depends," Lois echoed flatly. The conversation was dead.
"Well, Ms. Lane, I'm glad that you have curiosity about what we do here. We love to cooperate with the media and work towards making the public more aware. I can send you a pamphlet with more information if you like, Ms. Lane," the woman concluded. "I'm sorry, I have some other matters to take care of, but I can transfer you to the secretary, who will get your address, if you'd like that."
"I would," Lois lied. As soon as the woman put her on hold, she hung up. "That was productive," she said out loud, and leaned back in her chair.
She was stunned when someone spoke.
"Good morning, Lois." It was Clark.
"How long you been here?" she asked, shocked.
"The whole time, I watched you come in," Clark explained. Lois glanced at the wall clock.
"Was I that late? I know I went back for my umbrella, but--"
"No, you're not late at all," Clark began. "I thought about what you said yesterday. You were right. I'm sabotaging myself by being so careless. Besides, Perry's threats really scared me." He nodded to himself. "I'm going to start being more organized."
"Um, Clark?" Lois said.
"Yeah?"
"You know you can't actually break New Year's resolutions until January, right?"
"Witty," Clark said, wagging a pencil at her. The conversation tapered off for a minute. "Hey, what happened at the nursing home?" Clark suddenly asked.
"It was fantabulous," Lois declared. Clark leaned over from behind his monitor, stunned. He contemplated peering over his glasses for emphasis, but rejected the idea.
"Did you say fantabulous?" he asked.
"I think the assignment just might yield a lot more of a story than shortages on fruit cups and Depends," Lois clarified.
"Really?" Clark was all ears. "How?"
Lois leaned in. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked. Clark grinned ironically.
"I've been known to keep a secret or two. What is it?"
"Well, it's all very early still, and mostly speculation. But, I have a hunch that there's an alarming infection breaking out at Pleasant Meadows---alarming enough for them to bring in the troops. Who knows what the implications are for that?" she explained.
"Is that what that phone call was about?" Clark implored.
"Yeah."
"Ran it by Perry yet?"
"I meet with him at one. We'll see what he thinks. I don't want to get too far into it if he just decides to veto it in the end," she replied. "Besides, if that phone call is any indication, I have my work cut out for me." Clark just nodded.
"Sounds like it's going to take some legwork. Of course, if you need any help with it -- "
"Back-off bottom-feeder. This is my byline."
Clark laughed. "Well, just for that, I have lunch with the governor today."
Lois snapped to attention, "Are you kidding? For that campaign issue story?" Clark nodded gleefully. "You suck, Clark."
"It's not what you think. To be America's heartland, this place barely has a pulse. We aren't one of the states involved in the Congress referendums, we're actually supporting the UN Crop Production Initiative in Ethiopia -- we're not even in a recession. School test scores are pleasantly mediocre, even good in some districts; we don't have any Congressman being re-elected. Want to know what Kansas' big issue is?"
"What?" Lois asked.
"Prescription drugs." Clark chuckled. "I thought everybody threw in the towel on that issue ten years ago."
"Well, that pathetic list sounds like, as usual, the Kansas conscience being thoroughly manipulated by LuthorCorp," Lois said.
"But it's my job to act like it's being led by the governor. And," he suddenly added, "did you know that the governor's vegan? I was notified that we'd be dining at that new franchise on Ginnes Avenue -- Caillou. Which means green salad and vegan jello -- gelatin with no meat product."
"Gelatin has meat product?" Lois asked.
Clark furrowed his brow, "Do you think Caillou serves steaks?"
"Yeah, right along with brain you obviously didn't get at birth."
The door swung open.
"Team meeting starts any minute." It was Rebecca, the resident everywoman who was some cross between the secretary, go-to-girl, floor manager, and savior. Lois had been tempted to tip Rebecca more than once.
Clark and Lois filed out of the room, down the hall, and into the little opening in the field of cubicles for the cub reporters and administrative staff. Doug, the "team leader" (another innovation of the merger) was clearing his throat and beginning yet another one of his choreographed, alpha-male, one-too-many-hours-of-seminar-training-trained daily rants. Lois sighed, then promptly tuned out. She leaned over to Clark, whispering. "Does he like to hear himself talk, or is he really that fake?"
"Orange and grey, huh?" was Clark's muted reply. Lois snapped her head around at the non-sequitur to discover that Clark was talking to Rebecca, who was on his other side. Lois couldn't quite make out what Rebecca was saying, but from Clark's side of the conversation, she deduced they were talking about tea...or no, Clark clothing selection. Orange tie, grey suit. Lois took a look herself. Clark looked typically coordinated, though conservative. She was more impressed by the lack of wrinkles. Hmph, nothing to write home about. She tried to eavesdrop more, but their conversation reached sub-phonic levels, and she guessed Doug's speech might be more interesting after all.
The meeting was over soon enough, and the crowd disbursed. Lois made her way back to her office and resumed working. It was probably a full ten minutes before Clark joined her again.
"Did you know that all quality ties are cut on the bias? That's why that green tie curls all the time; I got that from a Secret Santa. Turns out it's not cut on the bias."
"Did Doug mention that in the meeting?" Lois asked, face as sincere as she could muster. "I wasn't really paying attention."
"No...Actually, he didn't." Clark said, mostly ignoring her.
"You know she likes you," Lois distractedly added.
"Who?" Clark said.
"Don't play dumb, Clark," Lois said, rising and moseying over to his desk. She perched herself on the corner, pinning him between his chair and the wall. Clark was a flight risk in tough conversations. "You know Rebecca likes you."
"Nah," Clark said, artificially immersing himself in his almost-empty inbox.
"No?" Lois said. "I bet this month's rent that if you ask her out she'll say yes." Clark looked up and then shook his head. "Why not? Because you know you'd lose." With that she rose and headed back to her desk. In a monument to delayed reactions, Clark replied a full minute later.
"I'm not attracted to her, Lois."
"Excuse me?" Lois asked.
"Rebecca. I'm not attracted to her."
"So you always whisper sweet nothings to receptionists as you discuss the finer points of neckwear?"
"I wasn't whispering 'sweet nothings' in her ear. We were conversing. It's even more astonishing that you suddenly find Doug so enthralling."
"Oh, Mr. Evasive, don't turn this back on me. You guys have been flirting like a couple of teenagers for over a month. If you don't ask her out, I just might for you."
"But you wouldn't," Clark replied, "because you would hate to set her up for disappointment."
"The disappointment of you saying yes?" Lois asked sarcastically.
"Look—stay out of my love life," Clark said, a little peeved.
"Or lack thereof," Lois muttered. Clark scowled and returned to work. Lois didn't. "You know, Clark. Would it kill you if just once you took a chance on somebody?"
"Um, Lois, I'm an active dater," Clark replied.
"Those aren't dates Clark. Those are bland, one-time, social interactions arranged by your acquaintances who are tired of staring at a single and moping son, friend or workmate. Or by women who are canoodling their way into The Planet."
"Wow," Clark said, a little stung. "Thanks for that. You're a real friend."
"No, Clark," Lois began, before returning to his desk and taking on a seriously less mocking tone. "I know I joke around, but in all seriousness, you're a diamond in the rough. You're eligible in ten different ways."
"Spare me, Lois," Clark replied.
"I'm serious," Lois said, softening her tone.
"Really?" Clark asked, half incredulous and half fishing for a sincere description of himself from Lois. "How?"
"You're twenty-nine years old. You're handsome. Accomplished. Sober -- a biggie these days. You're even a mama's boy. I have a small army of girlfriends who would give their Louis-Vuitton purses to bump into you in a jazz club. But you aren't there. You're spending your evenings holed up in a seventh floor condo, doing...." Lois groped for an idea. Saving the world from the evils of modern society? Clark thought. "Doing God knows what," she finally said. "When's the last time you saw someone you wanted and went after her?"
"I have," Clark shrugged.
"No, I mean, when's the last time you just really followed your heart and allowed yourself to soak in everything that's thrilling and beautiful and terrifying about infatuation, and love and passion." She pointed her finger. "And without being so caught up in orchestrating this incredible production that's some cross between debonair and deceitful. You would think you were trying to hide being a child molester."
Or superhero.
"Sure, but who can you trust these days? How do you know if someone is really worthy of your trust. Or really..." he tapered off.
"Or what?" Lois urged.
"Or if they even want it?"
Lois looked him in the eye and placed her hand on his. "Clark, if you ever gave someone a chance to love you, you just might be surprised."
LATER THAT DAY
Perry took the egg timer he had on his desk and wound it to ten minutes. "OK, Lois," he grunted, "shoot."
Lois looked at the timer as it ticked away, and sighed. Of all the things that had gotten deep-sixed with the merger, how on earth did the egg-timer survive?
"I went to several, um, convalescent centers last week," Lois began, "and stumbled upon a raid from the CDC--"
"Raid?" Perry asked.
"Well, not raid, but two folks croaked and the CDC was there. And it was weird." Lois said and stopped.
"Huh?" Perry asked, irritation flashing like heat vision. "You ask to meet with me for an auxiliary project, and this is your pitch?"
"You know I hate the egg timer."
Perry looked at it, spun it back to zero (ding), and then stared at Lois. "You have nine minutes."
"I was at the convalescent home following up on my assignment when several representatives from the CDC arrived and..." Lois recounted her experience. "It is my opinion," she concluded, "that there is potential threat in these homes that, up to this point, may have been wholly unreported on. I don't need to tell you what relevance that could have to our community, our elderlycommunity, particularly in this election year."
Perry clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Ummm," he uttered distractedly. "I don't know, Lois."
"Seriously, the potential here is real," Lois added.
"I know. I see where you're coming from," Perry said, finally meeting her eyes. "I'm just…underwhelmed."
"I'm sorry, I'm not following," Lois said. Actually, she was following, but she needed a point to defend.
"You know what gets me going these days, Lois?" Perry asked her, his eyes beaming with renewed attention. "How Liberia went from being a cesspool to a leading trade figure in North Africa."
"I'm domestic, sir."
"Or why President Fitzgerald invoked executive privilege in regards to his expense accounts, only for them to be subpoenaed two months later and turn out to be totally clean. What was he hiding?"
"Kenneth's covering that."
"And why all three of Mayor Sackett's challengers for the nomination dropped out within three days of each other."
Lois sighed hard. Then got up to leave.
"Lois," Perry called, "if you can give that story some teeth, come back."
Lois nodded and left.