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Chapter 2
Tuesday's Child
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October 21, 1998 1:00 pm
235 Rideley Way, Metropolis
Lois and Clark walked up to the entrance of the house and she knocked on the door. "Coming, I'm coming," came a voice from inside.
A gray-haired elderly woman answered the door, straightening the jacket of her smartly-tailored suit as she peered out at her new visitors. "Yes?" she asked, her faded green eyes twinkling.
"Hello, Ma'am. My name is Clark Kent and this is my partner, Lois Lane. We're from the Daily Planet and we wanted to know if you recognize this child," he said holding out a photograph of Rachel.
"Oh, my," she put her hand up to her mouth. "That's little Rachel Pierce from across the street. What happened?"
"She was found unconscious on a street corner across town last night," Lois said quietly. "We're working in conjunction with the police to find out what happened, and we were hoping that you might be able to give us some information about her."
"Why don't you come in?" she invited, opening the door wider and ushering them inside. Lois and Clark came inside and she gestured them toward the couch, shutting the door behind them before taking a seat herself.
"I'm not sure how much I should tell you," she began hesitantly. "My name is Emma Lenski and I've lived in Metropolis my entire life… My husband and I suspected that something was amiss with that sweet child; we could hear the screaming coming from the Russell's place some nights after Mr. Russell got home." Emma sighed nervously and began to toy with the bracelet on her right wrist.
"I called Children and Family Services once. Rachel used to come over for cookies occasionally. I was happy to have her because my grandchildren live so far away." She regarded the couple seriously. "She had big bruises all over her arms--they looked like fingerprints. Social Services told me they'd take care of it, and Rachel stopped coming over soon after." Emma sighed quietly. "I thought that they'd resolved the problem, but…" her eyes filled with tears, "...I still can't imagine that her stepfather would hurt her--he's such a small man and he seems rather quiet."
"What about the little girl's mother?" Clark asked quietly.
"Mrs. Russell died last year, and Rachel's biological father deserted them before Rachel was born. Mr. Russell's had a procession of nannies to take care of the children since their mother's death." Emma replied. "Perhaps the nanny was the one who hurt Rachel?" she asked, her eyes wide with the hope that her neighbor was innocent. "Mrs. Russell and I were good friends before the car accident that took her life. She used to bring Rachel over to play, and Timmy as well after he came along. He's two now."
"Is there anything else you can tell us? Perhaps where she goes to school?" Lois questioned.
"I've seen her catch the school bus on the corner," Emma offered hesitantly.
"Thank you, Mrs. Lenski," Clark said, holding out his hand for her to shake.
Lois pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to the grandmotherly lady. "If you think of anything else, please give us a call."
Emma took the card from her and smiled sadly as they left. Why hadn't she done more, she wondered. She sighed, shook her head and returned to her morning's activities.
Lois climbed into the jeep and glanced over at Clark. "Did Henderson want us to talk to anyone else?" she asked, starting the car and heading away from the upscale suburban neighborhood.
"No," Clark replied. "He said that Family and Children Services had talked to everyone else and that we'd be getting full transcripts of the interviews for the Planet." He looked at his wife, sadness on his face. "Apparently, any public interest we can drum up for this little girl will help; her stepfather is a high-powered corporate lawyer."
Clark sighed. "I can't help but think that if someone other than my parents had found me, I might have grown up with someone hurting me the way her stepfather has been hurting Rachel."
Lois reached over and grasped his hand. "I know," she said softly. "You were lucky... And now Rachel has a second chance; she's been rescued from her own private hell."
"But how many children aren't so lucky?" Clark asked sadly. "How many more little kids are there in Metropolis that are trapped?" He ran his free hand through his hair. "And not even Superman can save them," he muttered.
Lois stopped the car at the stop sign and turned towards him. "Clark, Superman might not be able to save them, but maybe we can--we'll talk to Perry about doing a sidebar or an editorial or *something*," she said.
Clark nodded slowly. "I hope it's enough," he said quietly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
October 21, 2:00 pm
Coates Orphanage, Metropolis
Rachel pulled her hand out of the social worker's grasp, not wanting to be touched, and looked around her with wide eyes. It looked kind of like her school, and that had always been a safe place, but at the same time, she was terrified of being left there.
The social worker dropped to her knees so that her eyes were level with Rachel's. "Rachel," she began, "we're going to do our best to find you a family as quickly as we can, but until then, you'll be safe here, okay?"
Rachel nodded, looked down, and wrapped her arms around herself. She knew better than to hope that anything would get better--she had to take care of herself. She'd been doing it ever since her mother had died; Papa Gary sure didn't.
"Rachel," the social worker said gently, "do you remember my name?"
Rachel nodded again, carefully stepping back from the woman.
"Can you say it?" she asked as she put a finger underneath the girl's chin and tilted her head up.
"Sam," Rachel whispered, pulling away before this new person had a chance to hurt her as well.
"Rachel," Samantha began, "I'm going to tell the people who are going to care for you that you can call me to talk if you need me, okay?"
Rachel nodded, not believing what Samantha said. She pulled her arms tighter around herself and stared at the ground.
"C'mon, Rachel," Samantha said gently, "Let's get you settled." She stood up and started down the pathway while Rachel followed behind her, climbing the flight of stairs that led to the door. They entered the building and walked down a long hallway and turned into another. It wasn't long before they reached a large, brightly-colored room filled with long rows of beds.
Samantha placed the paper bag full of necessities on the bed, grateful to the church group who had begun to assemble 'possibles bags' for children like Rachel, who had nothing in the way of material possessions when they came into foster care.
"Rachel, we're going to your house to talk to your stepfather today… is there anything that you'd particularly like from home?" Samantha asked.
Rachel stepped back at the mention of her stepfather and hung her head to stare intently at the linoleum-covered floor, studying the patterns that the tiles made. "Are you taking me back?" she whispered.
Samantha dropped to her knees and tipped the child's chin up so she could look her in the eye. "No, I'm not, Rachel. We're going to go talk to a judge today and you're going to stay here until we find you a new family."
Rachel flinched back from her touch and retreated to the opposite side of the bed, out of reach. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and began to scuff her shoe against the floor. "C-c-could I have Aimee, my dolly?" she said almost inaudibly. "My Mommy gave her to me," she finished in a whisper.
"I'll see what I can do, sweetie," Samantha promised. "Now, let me show you where you can put your stuff…." She moved towards a nearby dresser and pulled out a drawer. She normally would leave this kind of thing to the Home's staff, but most of the staff from this part of the Orphanage simply weren't around.
She also didn't want to frighten Rachel by introducing Mr. Stevens to her until she had a place to call her own. With her negative reaction to men, it was as if she expected blows and harsh words from them as a normal thing. Samantha sighed as she helped transfer the child's sparse belongings from the brown paper sack to the drawer. It would be best for Rachel if they set up an appointment with the county's new art therapist as soon as possible.
It was absolutely amazing the successes that were emerging from practitioners in this new field. Anything that could bring little Rachel out of her self-imposed isolation had to be a good thing. And if it led to them being able to get enough evidence to convict the monster that had hurt her, then it would be even better. They had managed to collect some evidence, but until Rachel told them who had hurt her, it was unlikely that they could get a conviction. Lost in thought, Samantha finished the small task and carefully led the girl out of the dormitory and downstairs to meet the director.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
October 22, 1998 2:30 pm
Daily Planet, Metropolis
Clark read through another stack of research and whistled. "Amazing," he muttered softly. Perry had asked him to do a sidebar that included information on the history of child abuse. Relieved, Clark had agreed, hoping that by giving the public some cold, hard facts on child abuse coupled with Rachel's story, people might try and help.
Child abuse was not one of the problems that Superman could solve. Clark turned to his keyboard, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and began typing furiously. As impassioned as he was about the subject, he finished the article in record time and sent it to Lois's terminal so that she could look over it.
He stood and quickly made his way over to Lois's desk. "Lois?" he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. He smiled as he noticed her abstracted look. She was immersed in her story and wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around her.
"Hmm?" she replied.
Clark leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck. "I just sent you the sidebar. I thought you'd like to see it."
"Thanks," she murmured, still busy typing.
"Almost finished?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and beginning to rub them gently.
"Yeah," she said, typing the last sentence. "Okay, all done," she looked up at him and smiled. "Take a look at it for me?"
"Sure!" he replied, leaning down to kiss her softly before turning his attention to the screen. He scanned through the story quickly. "You're missing a comma here," he said, adding it in.
"Is that all, sweetheart?" she asked. "I was hoping, if our mean boss will allow it we can go home... and work on that other project of ours,"
Clark grinned. "Other project?" he asked, feigning innocence.
Lois reached up, grabbed his tie, and reeled him in for a kiss. "Ohhh, yess... *that* project," he said, leaning in to steal another kiss.
They broke off the kiss and pulled apart reluctantly as they heard someone clear their throat behind them. "What is this?" a gruff voice asked. "Elvis's Honeymoon Hideaway? I want your stories now!"
"On their way, Perry," Lois said, as she LANed the story to him and clicked open the file containing Clark's sidebar. She scanned it quickly, making a few changes, before she sent that one to Perry's computer as well.
Perry smiled at them. "Thanks, kids. Now get on out of here--I don't want to see y'all until tomorrow."
"Yes, Chief," they chorused. In a matter of minutes, they had gathered their stuff and headed towards the elevator. Before the metal doors could close, Clark was pulling her into his arms for another kiss. Lois clasped her arms around his neck as he brought his around her. "So," she asked between sweet kisses, "Are we going to have another try at our little 'project' tonight?"
Clark laughed softly and tightened his hold on her. "Superman can have the night off," he whispered. "I've got plans for the night that don't include him."
Lois laughed softly and tugged his head down for another kiss.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
November 15, 1998 4:30 pm
Coates Orphanage, Metropolis
Rachel stood by the fence, watching the other children play. The dark-haired lady from the hospital was right--it was better here than at home. She smiled as she thought about the beautiful lady. Samantha told her that the lady's name was Ms. Lane when she had taken her to the pretty lady's house week before last.
She wasn't sure why they'd gone there, but she didn't really care much, either. Ms. Lane's house wasn't scary like hers was. Rachel walked shyly along the fence, shaking her head when some of the others motioned for her to join them. They were too loud; they yelled all the time and she still wasn't used to it.
The only yelling at home had been from Papa Gary, and yelling was scary. She shivered; she still had nightmares about waking up to find herself in her bed with her stepfather standing over her. That was one place she never wanted to go back to. She'd rather go back to Ms. Lane's house, she didn't seem like a yelling kind of person. "Rachel?" a voice called out from behind her.
She turned around slowly. "Yes, Mr. Stevens?" she said quietly. She stepped back as he got close to her and flinched when he laid a hand on her shoulder.
He dropped his hand quickly, having forgotten momentarily that touching without invitation was not advised. "Your counselor is here," he said, his voice gentle. "Run along inside to see her, okay?"
"Yessir," she whispered and turned to run inside. Rachel hurried up the steps, entered the building, and headed over to the counselor's office. She knocked on the door timidly and pushed it open.
"Come in, Rachel." A young woman came out from behind the desk and walked over. "Remember me?" she asked softly.
Rachel shrank back, feeling as if she wanted to hide.
"It's okay, Rachel," she soothed. "Can you remember my name?"
Rachel nodded hesitantly. "Ms. Summers," she said in an almost inaudible voice, shrinking back shyly from the counselor.
"That's right," Ms. Summers said with a broad smile. "I thought that you might like to color pictures today," she said, busily moving over to the cabinet and removing the necessary supplies. She laid them on a small table and sat down.
Rachel approached the table, picked up some crayons and paper and sat down. "What do you want a picture of?" she asked quietly.
"How about a picture of your family?" Ms. Summers requested.
Rachel nodded and began to draw.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
November 15, 1998, 5:30 pm
Daily Planet, Metropolis.
Lois quickly typed the last few words of her latest story into her word processor, saved it, and LANed it to Perry. She sat back in her chair and sighed softly. Clark had been called away on an emergency--an accident on the freeway--and she was bored. There hadn't been any major villians around Metropolis for months, and everything was still pretty quiet.
She had been to see Rachel a few times at Samantha Parker's request. Apparently, the child was still refusing to talk much. Almost all of her responses to questions were whispers. It was as if she were living in constant fear of another beating from everyone she came in contact with. Samantha had even brought her to the brownstone once, but Rachel had simply clung to Lois and refused to talk. Lois sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
At the time, they had been desperate to get information from the little girl. Since Lois was one of the few people she had ever spoken to, they had decided to try it, but she was still mostly withdrawn. Rachel seemed to like the brownstone; it was almost as if she felt safe there.
Lois sighed, shook off the memories, reached for the phone, and began to dial. "Hello, Henderson? Yes, I know it's almost quitting time and you want to get home to your wife. Henderson, I *know*. Look, the faster you talk to me, the faster you can get home. *Okay*. " Lois rolled her eyes and began to play with the telephone cord. "Henderson, do you have anything for me? It's quiet in Homicide. Uh *huh*. C'mon Henderson, you *have* to have *something*. All right," Lois sighed and raked her hair out of her face with her right hand. "Thanks anyway, Henderson. Drive safe. You have a good night, too. Bye."
Lois hung up the phone, pulled her address book out, and started flipping through it. She smiled as she came across Bobby Bigmouth's number. If anyone would have a lead on a story for her it would be Bobby. She picked up the phone and began to dial.
"Hello, Bobby? This is Lois. What do you have for me? Yes, I know news has been slow these past few weeks. C'mon, Bobby, you owe me. What? A rash of infant deaths in the foster care system and in the emergency children's wing of the Coates Orphanage? And the causes of death are all listed as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome? Thanks, Bobby! Yes, if this pans out, Peking Duck next time. Okay, bye!" Lois hung up the phone, her eyes shining with excitement. This was the first good lead she'd had in weeks!
She looked at her watch and grimaced. It was too late to get the coroner's reports, so she'd have to wait until the next day.
"Lois, in my office." Perry called out.
"Coming, Chief," she said. Lois grabbed her note pad and a pencil, hurried across the newsroom, and entered Perry's office. "What d'ya need, Perry?" she asked.
"I just wanted to know how you're doing, darlin'." Perry said with a smile. "I also wanted to know if you've managed to find a front page story for me and if you've got any updates on the Pierce girl."
"I'm okay, Perry. That was Bobby on the phone now. It's too late to know if it's front page, above the fold material, but I've got a definite lead on a story." Lois studied her notepad intently. "And the little girl is okay for now. They have an art therapist seeing her while they gather more evidence against her step father."
Perry nodded. "What's the lead about?" he asked.
"Apparently there have been approximately 25 infants and toddlers from the foster care system in the past 3 months to die from SIDS," she explained. "Bobby says that the deaths are spread out over the surrounding counties and that same doctor handled the autopsies. He said that the word on the street is that the deaths weren't SIDS and that the doctor was bribed."
"Sounds good. Keep me updated, darlin'. " Perry glanced at his watch. "Now you skeddadle on outta here and I'll see you tomorrow."
Lois smiled. "Goodnight, Perry," she said, turning to leave.
"Goodnight, darlin'," he said softly. Perry turned to his desk and started packing his stuff up to leave. It had been a long day, and Alice was waiting for him at home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
November 15, 1998, 10:30 pm
Coates Orphanage, Early Childhood Wing, Metropolis
"No, No, NO!" Jared shook his head and groaned as the nightly screaming began. Not Rachel again. It never failed. As soon as he got the little snot-nosed brats down for the night, she'd start screaming. He got up, walked over to the bed where the little girl lay, and began to pat her back.
"NO! G'way! DON'T. Please," Rachel whimpered. "It's too *dark* in the closet!" She thrashed around on the bed, scattering the blankets.
Jared put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently rather than smacking the living daylights out of her like he wanted to. "Wake up, Rachel--it's just a dream. You're safe now," he said neutrally.
"NOOOOOOOOO," she sat up, took one look at him, and jumped out of bed to run and hide in the corner of the room. Rachel sat in the corner, shivering. She put her arms around her knees and began to rock back and forth, silent tears streaming down her face.
Jared sighed and grabbed one of the rucked up blankets off the bed. They went through this almost nightly, and he knew from experience that she wouldn't leave the corner until after she was sure that he was gone. He walked over and carefully wrapped the blanket around her, knowing that if he left her to freeze, there'd be hell to pay. He was, after all, responsible for the screaming freak.
He backed away quietly, not wanting to make her scream louder, and left the room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to make his way down the hall to check on the other children. "She's disrupting the others," a voice said from behind his shoulder.
Jared jumped, startled, and turned around. "Sheesh. Don't *do* that, Paul. You scared me!" He gave Paul a measuring glance.
As usual, the tall, blond man was immaculately dressed and looked every inch a clean-cut all-American boy. His short blond hair was combed away from his face while his deep brown eyes darted around the hallway, intent upon finding anyone who might be watching. "Sorry," he looked at Jared with an upraised eyebrow. "It *is* true, you know. The child is constantly waking up the other kids and it isn't fair to them or us. She's withdrawn and doesn't really talk to anybody. The only person she's been known to talk to willingly is that Lane woman. Perhaps the psychiatric ward over at Metropolis General would be a better place for her."
"Maybe," Jared replied. "She's giving *me* a headache." He gestured towards an empty room nearby. "Join me? We've got another order for a kid."
Paul smiled and walked into the room. "Is Doctor King still on the payroll?" he asked.
Jared nodded. "Yeah. We've even got a kid come in today that matches the description of one the buyer wants."
Rachel crept quietly down the hall, looking for the bathroom, and hearing the voices, slipped in the room.
"Did you obtain a new supply of the chemical?" Paul asked.
"Sure did, boss," he replied. "Our pet chemist modified the formula to get rid of the side affects and make sure that the drug's action will be delayed."
Paul reached in his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. "Here's your cut from the last one," he said, handing it over.
Jared pocketed the cash. "Thanks, Boss. I'll get the merchandise ready for transport. Our chemist says that the drug has an eight-hour time delay, so we administer the drug before the foster parents get here to pick the brat up, and it'll look completely natural." He smirked at Paul. "We're just lucky that this foster care crisis is working in our favor; it's much easier to get to the kids now that they're stoppin' in here overnight."
Paul grinned. "We're making a mint off of this," he said gleefully. "And the best part is that no one suspects anything!" He frowned suddenly. "We may have to change counties soon--we're gonna run outta babies and toddlers." Paul turned and noticed Rachel's small form standing in the light from the hallway.
He began to frown. "What'd you hear, kid?" he asked roughly. If she had heard too much, all of them could end up with a long prison term, and it simply wasn't in the plan. He supposed that they were lucky that the kid didn't talk much; if she ever opened her mouth, he'd have to silence her.
"Sumpin," she answered sullenly.
Paul grabbed Rachel by the arm and dragged her over near Jared. "Brat, what did you *hear*?" he asked.
Rachel began to shiver. "You got a drug that you need to sell sumpin," she answered, frightened.
Paul's frown deepened. "Anything else?" he growled.
"Saw you give mister some money," she said softly.
"I think the kid heard more than that, don't you, Jared?" Paul said as a smile began to creep over his face.
"I agree, Boss," Jared answered.
"Grab the kid and hold her," Paul ordered.
Jared grabbed Rachel and held her by her arms, clutching her tightly enough to leave bruises. Paul began to pace in front of her.
"Kid, you've heard too much--you know enough to get me in trouble... and I can't let you talk," he smiled nastily. "You're gonna promise me to never tell anybody this or you'll be sorry you were born."
Paul balled up his fist and hit her twice, once in the stomach and once in the face. Rachel slumped against Jared's grip, dazed.
"You're not gonna tell, are ya, brat?" he asked.
"Nossir," she said quietly, fighting back tears. She had been right all along. She was on her own and had to take care of herself; the grown-ups were all liars... except perhaps, the pretty lady who lived in the safe place.
"Go put her back in her bed, Jared," Paul ordered.
Jared nodded and began to drag her back towards the dormitory. He shoved her back on her bed and leaned down over her. "You'd better not tell," he whispered. "If you do, what your Papa Gary did will look like heaven." He walked off, disappearing into the hallway.
Rachel shivered in her bed. She wanted her Mommy back... or pretty Ms. Lane. One thing was for certain, she wasn't going to stay here anymore. She climbed out of bed silently and grabbed Aimee. Quietly, she made her way over to the window, opened it, and swung out into the tree that grew beside the building. She climbed down the tree quickly and headed off into the night.
Ms. Lane worked for the Daily Planet--she remembered hearing Samantha talking about it. If she could find the Planet, maybe Ms. Lane would keep them from hurting her. The pretty lady did seem to care... and she reminded her of her Mommy. Rachel walked down the dark streets and disappeared into an alley.
She remembered the Planet being fairly close to the orphanage, but she wasn't sure where it was. Rachel shivered as a cold, icy wind cut through her thin pajamas like a knife and clutched her doll closer to her. She stepped on a patch of ice and slipped, her bare feet finding little purchase on the slick surface. As her hands hit the pavement, she stifled a cry, knowing that if anyone heard, they wouldn't care. She picked herself up, chose a direction, and started hiking off into the inky darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~