Chapter 5 - Fortuity


-- Havana, Cuba - October 2006 (Four Years Earlier) --

Clark shouted a greeting to the group of relaxed musicians that were standing in a loose circle across the street as he jumped from the bus. They shouted their replies and waved for him to join them, but he shook his head and pointed further down the street.

"Manana, si?" he shrugged, walking backwards.

The group groaned loudly in disagreement before turning back to their instruments.

Clark smiled and turned to face the direction he was heading. His grin faded as he noticed a female tourist dealing with the unwanted attentions of a jinetero, the Cuban version of a street hustler. Walking closer, he prepared himself to provide assistance if necessary. The woman was wearing a large white hat and sunglasses, giving off an obvious indication of being a foreigner. Her attire, and the fact that she was traveling alone, clearly made her a mark.

The man was commenting on the woman's beauty in broken English, and was trying to convince her to purchase a silver coin-shaped souvenir for three pesos. The woman rattled off a reply in fluent Spanish, explaining to the man that the coin he was trying to sell her was not a souvenir at all. She told him that she had already received seven of those shiny pieces in exchange for a single peso- at the bank. She then switched to English and told him that she would give him the three pesos if he could show her where she could find some authentic arroz con pollo.

Laughing, the hustler realized that he had met his match and replied in perfect English, "Chicken and Rice. A woman after my own heart."

Clark smiled at the exchange, as he passed behind the two. The woman knew how to handle herself. She reminded him of… it couldn't be.

"Lois?" he asked, turning to face her.

She turned to look at him and removed her glasses. "Clark? Ohmigod!" she exclaimed, launching herself into his arms.

Over her shoulder, the man held his hands in the air. "This one's for you, eh, Clark? You owe me three pesos, man."

Setting Lois on the ground, he shook his head. "Rafael, before she finished with you, you'd be giving her three pesos."

Rafael smirked. "Whatever, man." He noticed a small group of foreigners on the other side of the street. "Hasta, Bonita. Duty calls." Flashing Lois a smile, he headed across the street, dodging a baby blue '57 Chevy.

Clark pulled Lois in for another hug. "What are you doing here?"

Having been on the island for almost three months, Clark knew that few Americans visited the country. The political unrest between the two nations had yet to settle. He knew that access to Cuba was limited to certain professions and required the payment of special fees, things that tended to discourage most American tourists.

"Working… kind of," Lois replied. She lifted a hand to his chin. "What is this scruff?" she asked, fingering his short beard.

He laughed and grabbed her hand. "What do you mean 'working, kind of'? Shouldn't you be in school or something?"

"Oh, great, you decide to go on this 'Amazing Race' around the world, and now you want to act all adult-ish?" She gave him a look of mock disdain. "I'm here with a couple of reporters from The Planet. We got permission to interview Fidelito Castro. With the rumors that his father's health is failing and the split public support between him and his uncle as to who will become number two, there's a lot of interest in the States."

"That's pretty heavy stuff. Why'd they bring you?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "Because they know I'm going to be the best reporter in Planet history."

He couldn't stop smiling, amazed at the possibilities of having this chance encounter, thousands of miles away from where he'd last seen her. "Why are you dressed like this? You're like a magnet for those guys," he said, using a thumb to gesture to where Rafael was running his game on more tourists.

Lois pulled off her hat and ran a hand through her hair. "I was trying to get the full effect of Cuba. Being harassed is part of the experience." She dropped the hat on the head of a young boy as he passed by with a friend.

The two young boys gave her a bewildered look before running off laughing wildly, commenting about the strange lady.

Clark shook his head in wonderment.

"Clark, what are you doing in Cuba? I left you getting on a plane to China. Um, that's a bit of a distance to cover."

"It turns out that what I was looking for wasn't in China," he answered, shrugging.

"And it's in Cuba?" she asked, her eyebrows rising.

"Could be."

She sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Same old farm boy," she remarked. "Except for that stuff on your chin…This is a story I've got to hear, but I'm starving. And since you scared my tour guide away, I think it's fitting that you take his place. Lead the way to Chicken and Rice, and I want the real deal, not what they give to tourists!"

Clark nodded and began leading her down the street. He knew just the place.


Lois sighed in content as she dropped her fork on the plate. "This is so good I may have to shoot the cook."

"What?" Clark asked, laughing.

"It's from a movie… never mind." She turned to the bartender. "This is the best I've ever had."

"Thank you," he said, replacing the glass he'd been drying. "I'll be sure to let my wife know. About the food, not the shooting."

Lois laughed and turned to face Clark. "That hit the spot, thank you."

He shrugged. "Sure. You're paying."

Her mouth dropped open as he grinned. "Well, in that case," she turned on her stool to face back to the bar. "Dos mojitos, por favor."

"Have you ever had a mojito?" Clark asked, aware of the potency of Cuban rum.

"No, but you can't come to Cuba and not try one."

"But you ordered two," he replied.

Lois leaned against the bar, propping her chin in her hand. "You're not going to make a girl drink alone, are you? It's not like he's gonna card you!"

Clark laughed and shrugged his indifference. "I can't get over the fact that you're here."

"I know," she agreed, smiling.

She thanked the bartender with a wide grin as he placed the two drinks in front of her. She slid one of them closer to Clark and took a sip of the other.

"Whoo!" she exclaimed as the lime flavored drink hit the back of her throat. "That is some good stuff!"

Turning back to face him, she idly stirred the ice around the glass with the tiny straw.

"Okay, so I've told you all about my job with The Planet and school," she started.

"I still find it hard to believe that you're going to be done next summer," Clark remarked. "Is this the same Lois Lane that got kicked out of more than one school?"

"Put a sock in it, Farm Boy. You know as well as I do that I was not kicked out the last time," she smirked. "I'm taking on extra credits, going full-time in the summers, and getting credit for work. Not to mention the credits that transferred from LCC. I can be serious when I want to." She arched an eyebrow in challenge as she waited for him to respond.

At a loss for a snarky reply, Clark just grinned and nodded. "I know," he agreed.

Lois shook her head and took another sip of her drink. "As I was saying, since I told you about me, it's your turn to spill."

Clark spent the next hour telling her about his time in China. She was enthralled by the story of the temple and the hidden compartment he'd uncovered behind one of the walls, after months of searching. It was the appearance of Kryptonite hidden there that had made him keep a respectable distance from the figurine in the small cavern. That distance had allowed him to realize that the embroidery on the figure's outfit had been the same as the picture on the manuscript. It was then that he understood that the map was a drawing. He'd needed the help of a professor of ancient Chinese art to find out where the next leg of his journey would take him.

"You should look into seeing if you can get some college credit for all of this. I bet you could get a history degree in no time," Lois said when he had finished his story.

"I never really thought of history as something I would want to major in," he responded doubtfully.

"That's not the point," she smiled. "It's a way of covering all your bases, just in case the quest for Zelda takes longer than you've planned for. I mean, you thought China would be the end of it, but here you are- in Cuba."

Clark shrugged. It was worth considering. He noticed that both glasses were empty and pointed to them.

"I thought one of those was for me," he commented.

"You were letting the ice melt. It would have ruined the effect," she shrugged. "I can order a couple more," she offered.

"No. I think you should let those settle," he laughed.

"Good idea," she agreed, scanning the growing crowd in the bar.

A band was starting to tune up on the small stage in a corner of the room, getting prepared for the Independence Holiday celebrations that would be starting that night. As they struck into a song, dancers filled the small space and more people entered the bar.

"Come on, I want to dance!" Lois shouted over music.

Clark shook his head vigorously. "Oh no! I don't dance. If you remembered seeing me, you'd know why. Actually, I'm really glad you don't remember that!"

Lois laughed and hopped off her stool. "Come on," she pleaded, swaying her hips to the music as she held a hand out in his direction.

When he crossed his arms defiantly, she rolled her eyes and sighed. Before she could move back to her stool, an arm wrapped around her waist and spun her around into the arms of her earlier antagonist, Rafael.

"Bonita! I was hoping Clark would bring you here. The con pollo was good, no?" he asked with a smile.

Lois laughed and nodded. "Very good! Gracias."

Rafael smiled and nodded. "Clark never dances, but that shouldn't be your problem right? Will you let me show you how dancing is really done on an island?"

Lois glanced over her shoulder at Clark to see him nodding with a wide smile. He was obviously relieved to not have to dance, and knowing that Lois was capable of handling Rafael, he waved them on. "Later!" He smiled, happy to be saved from embarassment.

"I'm holding you to that promise," she muttered, glaring at him. Shaking her head, she turned back to face her partner and followed his lead through a series of quick paced steps.


Lois smiled and thanked her latest dance partner as the song ended, and politely turned down the hand offered by another dancer. Making her way back to the bar where Clark was seated, she waved a hand in front of her face, attempting to cool herself in the sweltering heat of the packed bar.

"You want to get some air?" she asked as she arrived at his side.

Lois sighed as they stepped into the night air. Outside, revelers lined the streets, laughing and dancing to the sounds that wafted from the bar. It was just as crowded out here as it had been inside, but at least it was cooler. Clark struggled to stay close to her as she made her way toward the street.

"You owe me a dance!" Lois smiled as the tempo of the music slowed.

"Out here?" he asked.

"Yep. There's people dancing over there," Lois said, nodding in the direction of other dancers outside of the club. "You promised."

"I didn't say…" he started.

"Clark."

"Okay, fine," he sighed, deciding to get it over with. Besides, he could do the slow dance thing pretty well. It was the fast stuff that made him lose all connection to the beat. If he stalled any longer, the music would speed back up. He reached for her hand and pulled her to him.

He must have caught her a bit off guard, because as she fell into him, he stepped backward and bumped into a passing group of people. As Lois righted herself, a woman stumbled into Clark, having been jostled off balance. He acknowledged her apologies with a smile as she and her friends moved away, and frowned at his shirt; the front of which was now covered with beer.

Lois held a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to control the laughter that was causing tears to come to her eyes.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to get a cerveza," she said, referring to the famous Cuban beer. "But I think you've had enough already."

"Funny, Lois. Funny."

Lois tilted her head back and released the laugh she had been trying to control. She thenshouted a Cuban battle cry in honor of the holiday and was met with a resounding chorus from their fellow pedestrians.

Clark rolled his eyes and started pulling her down the street.

"Hey," she protested, still laughing. "I really did want a cerveza! You can't come to Cuba and not try one!"

Clark shook his head. "There must be something else on your list…" he begged, gesturing at his shirt.

"Well… I guess a café would suffice."

Clark nodded, relieved. "I know just the place for some midnight coffee," he replied. "But I would like to change my shirt, if that's okay. We can stop by my place on the way."


tbc