CHAPTER 5: PERSUASION
Not since Chloe had been eight years old had she skipped school, and even then she had only done so by working her dear daddy's feelings with a lamp-heated mercury thermometer and a pale face. He had put a stop to that after the time she had tried to get away with the chicken-pox by dabbing her face and hands with red paint splotches. At the memory, she smiled fondly, but quickly returned to her focus, which was to avoid Lana and Clark, as she was still convinced of Clark's fatherhood. And the only way for her to do that was to skip school.
So here she was, standing before Lex's mansion, feeling more than a little out of place with her floopy clothing and camera. Now that she was upon the doorstep, she really did not know what to do; should she ring the bell, knock, or simply try the door? So many choices.so little time. Or so it would be, if she needed to get to Algebra by 10:30, but she didn't. So she had much time to make a decision. But she hated waiting.
The door was open, so Chloe stepped inside and shut it behind her. The house was so empty that it painted a picture of must and dust simply because it felt unlived in. Chloe had been in here before, more than a few times, so without another thought, she headed for Lex's study, where she expected to find him.
Instead, Chloe found a handsome German shepherd dog to be the only occupant of the room, sniffing randomly at the furniture, with a seeming particular interest in the pool table.
"Hey, girl." Chloe coaxed the animal toward her. The dog trotted towards the visitor and circled her curiously. Chloe smiled, watching her quietly.
"I see you've met Missy," came Lex's voice, disapprovingly, as he entered the study.
"Too bad you're allergic," she replied, giving Missy a friendly scratch behind the ears. "She's a great dog."
Lex snorted. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion." He made a great show of avoiding the creature as he walked toward his desk and took a seat there. "Maybe you can keep her pre-occupied while you're here so she doesn't bug me. She seems to have taken to me." He regarded Missy with disgust as she abandoned Chloe and scampered after her master's son, only ending her journey with a beseeching paw and nose muzzled into his lap. Lex sneezed, three times over.
Chloe laughed. "I see what you mean."
"So do you have any news on my.problem?" Lex asked, changing the subject as he flung Missy from him. Hurt by his spurning of her, she fell to the floor and covered her eyes with her forepaws.
"I'm afraid not," Chloe answered, taking in Lex's face of disappointment. "It really is a mystery. But I wanted to suggest something to you; that you return to the place it all happened. You see, my guess right now is that the whole thing is psychological; perhaps it was all such a shock to you that your mind responded by taking away the natural process of hair growth and channeling it toward something else - blocking the event out of your mind, for example. I thought that by going there you might make an eye-opening realization or something of the sort, or maybe your mind will even remember its blockage of that and take away your hair again."
"It sounds fairly credible," Lex said thoughtfully, playing with the idea. Then again, it was a bit far-fetched. But, then, wasn't nearly everything in Smallville a living, breathing phenomenon, including his friend Clark Kent. "I may just do that." With the thought of Clark, Lex couldn't resist mentioning him. "How are things with Clark going?"
At the question, Chloe maintained face, but bit her tongue momentarily to prevent tears from falling. "You can only guess," she said angrily, "if you've heard about Lana."
Lex nodded curtly, indicating that he knew all about that. Old news, in fact. He kept on top of such things. Then he replied impatiently. "Clark is not the father of Lana's baby, Chloe."
"How do you know?" Chloe cried in desperation, no longer able to contain her true emotions. "Pete said the same thing, but how do you know? And don't just say you 'know' Clark, because who actually knows him? He's the most secretive guy I know!" Sensing her outburst, the dog rolled and listened attentively.
"Is that why you like him? Mystery?"
"Well that was a change of subject!" She drew back, annoyed.
"It wasn't a change of subject at all," Lex disagreed contrarily. "We were talking about Clark."
Chloe, growing frustrated, threw up her arms. "You're right, we were. But why? I certainly don't want to talk about him."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Lex grinned at her. "I just wanted to point out to you that if it's mystery you're after, there are plenty of other guys out there for you to pursue." He glared down at Missy. "And that goes for you too, you mangy mutt. If you're after a guy who grows hair, then there are other fish in that sea! And I can't wait to be bald again!"
"I want to marry you."
This profession, immediately following a heart-encrusted embrace.
Lana stood perfectly still, barely able to breathe. But he could feel her breathing, there in his arms, her chest moving slightly against his with each intake of air, and a warm puff of it expelling on to his neck with each exhalation. How long it had been, since that night, and now he held her; it all seemed right.
"We'll have a family. I'll take care of you, and of the baby. You'll see. I want to marry you."
She did not want to marry him. She did not want to marry anyone, for that matter. (What, was she to have a double-wedding with Nell and Dean? - oh how quaint that would be.) And neither did she want this stupid child, the cause of all her dilemma.
"I want to marry you," he repeated. He was so overjoyed.
She cried into him.
It was too much of a shock. It felt as if in one quiet day they had both given birth to and witnessed the death of a child. An black emptiness consumed them as it once had in the days before Clark, their baby.
"I just don't understand." Martha spoke quietly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, when really there was no barrier to control the flood of wetness. "How could Clark possibly make that mistake?"
It was a different mistake she spoke of this time; not the mistake he had made with Lana, but the mistake he had made in presuming that previous mistake had been the cause of something greater.
"I don't know," Jonathan replied, knitting his eyebrows in irate concentration. "But that Lana Lang sure gets around the block. Besides he and Clark, I wonder who else she hit? In fact, how can she even be sure that it isn't Clark's, since she's so obviously treating her body no better than a wench would."
"Oh, Jonathan, don't speak like that. She's just a child." "Exactly my point. I'm unimpressed. And Clark is just a child too; he's our child. And he's going to be heartbroken, you know. All we feel and more is going to hit him tenfold when he finds out he was wrong."
"But we mustn't judge." Martha's voice trailed off. She knew trying to convince her husband, and even herself, about Lana's innocence, was a lost cause. She wondered if Clark, as never had he been in doubt of her purity before, would feel the same way.
Not since Chloe had been eight years old had she skipped school, and even then she had only done so by working her dear daddy's feelings with a lamp-heated mercury thermometer and a pale face. He had put a stop to that after the time she had tried to get away with the chicken-pox by dabbing her face and hands with red paint splotches. At the memory, she smiled fondly, but quickly returned to her focus, which was to avoid Lana and Clark, as she was still convinced of Clark's fatherhood. And the only way for her to do that was to skip school.
So here she was, standing before Lex's mansion, feeling more than a little out of place with her floopy clothing and camera. Now that she was upon the doorstep, she really did not know what to do; should she ring the bell, knock, or simply try the door? So many choices.so little time. Or so it would be, if she needed to get to Algebra by 10:30, but she didn't. So she had much time to make a decision. But she hated waiting.
The door was open, so Chloe stepped inside and shut it behind her. The house was so empty that it painted a picture of must and dust simply because it felt unlived in. Chloe had been in here before, more than a few times, so without another thought, she headed for Lex's study, where she expected to find him.
Instead, Chloe found a handsome German shepherd dog to be the only occupant of the room, sniffing randomly at the furniture, with a seeming particular interest in the pool table.
"Hey, girl." Chloe coaxed the animal toward her. The dog trotted towards the visitor and circled her curiously. Chloe smiled, watching her quietly.
"I see you've met Missy," came Lex's voice, disapprovingly, as he entered the study.
"Too bad you're allergic," she replied, giving Missy a friendly scratch behind the ears. "She's a great dog."
Lex snorted. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion." He made a great show of avoiding the creature as he walked toward his desk and took a seat there. "Maybe you can keep her pre-occupied while you're here so she doesn't bug me. She seems to have taken to me." He regarded Missy with disgust as she abandoned Chloe and scampered after her master's son, only ending her journey with a beseeching paw and nose muzzled into his lap. Lex sneezed, three times over.
Chloe laughed. "I see what you mean."
"So do you have any news on my.problem?" Lex asked, changing the subject as he flung Missy from him. Hurt by his spurning of her, she fell to the floor and covered her eyes with her forepaws.
"I'm afraid not," Chloe answered, taking in Lex's face of disappointment. "It really is a mystery. But I wanted to suggest something to you; that you return to the place it all happened. You see, my guess right now is that the whole thing is psychological; perhaps it was all such a shock to you that your mind responded by taking away the natural process of hair growth and channeling it toward something else - blocking the event out of your mind, for example. I thought that by going there you might make an eye-opening realization or something of the sort, or maybe your mind will even remember its blockage of that and take away your hair again."
"It sounds fairly credible," Lex said thoughtfully, playing with the idea. Then again, it was a bit far-fetched. But, then, wasn't nearly everything in Smallville a living, breathing phenomenon, including his friend Clark Kent. "I may just do that." With the thought of Clark, Lex couldn't resist mentioning him. "How are things with Clark going?"
At the question, Chloe maintained face, but bit her tongue momentarily to prevent tears from falling. "You can only guess," she said angrily, "if you've heard about Lana."
Lex nodded curtly, indicating that he knew all about that. Old news, in fact. He kept on top of such things. Then he replied impatiently. "Clark is not the father of Lana's baby, Chloe."
"How do you know?" Chloe cried in desperation, no longer able to contain her true emotions. "Pete said the same thing, but how do you know? And don't just say you 'know' Clark, because who actually knows him? He's the most secretive guy I know!" Sensing her outburst, the dog rolled and listened attentively.
"Is that why you like him? Mystery?"
"Well that was a change of subject!" She drew back, annoyed.
"It wasn't a change of subject at all," Lex disagreed contrarily. "We were talking about Clark."
Chloe, growing frustrated, threw up her arms. "You're right, we were. But why? I certainly don't want to talk about him."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Lex grinned at her. "I just wanted to point out to you that if it's mystery you're after, there are plenty of other guys out there for you to pursue." He glared down at Missy. "And that goes for you too, you mangy mutt. If you're after a guy who grows hair, then there are other fish in that sea! And I can't wait to be bald again!"
"I want to marry you."
This profession, immediately following a heart-encrusted embrace.
Lana stood perfectly still, barely able to breathe. But he could feel her breathing, there in his arms, her chest moving slightly against his with each intake of air, and a warm puff of it expelling on to his neck with each exhalation. How long it had been, since that night, and now he held her; it all seemed right.
"We'll have a family. I'll take care of you, and of the baby. You'll see. I want to marry you."
She did not want to marry him. She did not want to marry anyone, for that matter. (What, was she to have a double-wedding with Nell and Dean? - oh how quaint that would be.) And neither did she want this stupid child, the cause of all her dilemma.
"I want to marry you," he repeated. He was so overjoyed.
She cried into him.
It was too much of a shock. It felt as if in one quiet day they had both given birth to and witnessed the death of a child. An black emptiness consumed them as it once had in the days before Clark, their baby.
"I just don't understand." Martha spoke quietly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, when really there was no barrier to control the flood of wetness. "How could Clark possibly make that mistake?"
It was a different mistake she spoke of this time; not the mistake he had made with Lana, but the mistake he had made in presuming that previous mistake had been the cause of something greater.
"I don't know," Jonathan replied, knitting his eyebrows in irate concentration. "But that Lana Lang sure gets around the block. Besides he and Clark, I wonder who else she hit? In fact, how can she even be sure that it isn't Clark's, since she's so obviously treating her body no better than a wench would."
"Oh, Jonathan, don't speak like that. She's just a child." "Exactly my point. I'm unimpressed. And Clark is just a child too; he's our child. And he's going to be heartbroken, you know. All we feel and more is going to hit him tenfold when he finds out he was wrong."
"But we mustn't judge." Martha's voice trailed off. She knew trying to convince her husband, and even herself, about Lana's innocence, was a lost cause. She wondered if Clark, as never had he been in doubt of her purity before, would feel the same way.