Part One, Chapter 4
Fort Ryan, KS – June 2014
The Lane family unpacked household goods and belongings that had been shipped from Germany to Sam's next assignment. A short stint as a Colonel in the Army's 5th Corps had earned him early selection for his first star and he was given command of a medium-sized readiness installation outside of Hutchinson, Kansas. Sam was a 'frocked' brigadier general, meaning he could wear the insignia and have all the privileges and benefits due a one-star general prior to his promotion date. Given that honor, he reported for duty the Monday after his flight touched down in Kansas the Saturday before, taking no time off to unpack or organize anything at home. After all, Sam had two grown daughters perfectly capable of doing all that at their new quarters at Fort Ryan.
Lois was absently leafing through a college brochure left on a chair by a previous customer while waiting in the drab, two-toned Fort Ryan transportation office. In typical bureaucratic style, she was given an appointment to meet with a civilian employee of the Army who would coordinate a delivery date for her car. Before leaving Fort Leavenworth, Sam had her car drained of all fluids, battery disconnected, and then stored by the Army awaiting their return. They returned three years later and now Lois was awaiting her best option at getting away from her domineering father, entitled sister, and cloying existence. Back in friggin' Kansas, about a thousand miles from nowhere again, she thought. Where am I going from here and what am I going to do?
The answer, she discovered, was at her fingertips and the idea was like a light bulb being turned on in one of those old Saturday morning cartoons. The college brochure was from the Metropolis Community College and there was an extension in Kansas City. I'll go to college! The General can't rightfully bitch about that, she thought. Lucy is eighteen now, she mused, and my sentence is up, I've done my time.
She looked at the semester dates. Two goddamn months, Lois despaired under her breath. I have to wait two goddamn months before I can start college courses? Jesus! But her despair was short-lived once she began to think it through. No, I'll move now, get a job, get an apartment, and tell the General that I'm doing the core courses in order to get an Associates degree and transfer to Metropolis University. The old bastard won't be able to squawk at that. He'll just have…
"Lois Lane?" a voice called out. She looked up to see a balding, overweight man in his late 40's holding a file folder. He looked like he had been working nonstop all week.
"Are you Lois Lane?"
"Yes, I am," Lois said cheerily.
"Come with me, Miss Lane," the balding man said. "My name is Steven Rogers," he said without looking back. "We need to schedule delivery of your car, I believe."
Jesus, it's only Monday morning. Wonder Woman must have worn you out over the weekend, she thought, and suppressed a smile. "Nice to meet you," Lois answered. "Yes…my car," she responded anxiously. She followed him through a door into a larger room with eight gray fabric cubicles. His was the third cubicle and he motioned for her to sit in a molded plastic chair as he moved behind his desk.
He sat and opened the folder. "Let's see, it's June 10th so we can get the car delivered to your quarters," he paused and typed on his keyboard, "in about three weeks, I think." He paused looking at his computer screen. "Yes, July 2nd."
"Three weeks," Lois shrieked. "It takes three weeks to get the car delivered from Fort Leavenworth to here?"
"Yes, you'll have it before the July 4th holiday, Miss Lane," Steven said.
She hated to do it but sometimes it was needed to cut through red tape or bureaucratic lethargy. "Let me ask you something, Mr. Rogers," again, suppressing a laugh, "do you think the Commanding General could get it here sooner?"
"General Warner is no longer here, Miss Lane," Steven replied flatly. "He left last week. I know that because I was invited to attend his ceremony." He looked annoyed. "You're not going to get very far trying to get him involved, but you're welcome to try," he said smugly.
"Yeah, I saw the article in the post newspaper. Maybe I'll ask General Lane, then."
"I think you mean General Lang, Miss Lane." He smirked. "Nice try but he's not here yet," he added and shut the folder. "Now, July 2nd. AM or PM?"
"AM," Lois replied. "AM this Friday, the 14th, Mr. Rogers."
"No way that will happen, Miss Lane." He stood. "Now if you will…"
"Stand fast," she ordered and fished her cell phone out of her purse, punched in a number and a woman's voice came on the line, identifying herself as Bonnie. "Bonnie, this is Lois Lane. Is my father available?" Steve rolled his eyes and acted exasperated.
"No Miss Lane, he's in a meeting at the moment," the polite, older woman replied. "Shall I have him call you when he's free?"
"Yes, please, Bonnie." She paused. "No. Wait just a minute." She covered the phone and looked at Rogers. "What's your phone number?"
Annoyed, Steven picked up a business card that was in a holder on his desk and handed it to her. "My extension is 103," he said impertinently and pointed at the office number.
"Bonnie," Lois said, "would have him call Mr. Steven Rogers at 785-499-1992, extension 103, please. Mr. Rogers would like to make arrangements with him to have my car delivered 'to my neighborhood' this coming Friday morning...at the latest." Steven began to protest, and Lois held up her hand. "Thank you, Bonnie, and I look forward to meeting you, too."
Lois rose to her feet and put her phone back in her purse. "My dad will be calling." She winked. "It's one of those kind of calls that you really won't want to miss, Mr. Rogers." She walked around him and started toward the door through which she had come in. "I'll see you Friday morning. Give my best to Diana, Steve," she called out as she left through the door and into the waiting room. She stopped to pick the college brochure back up and left the office.
"You're doing what?" Sam Lane bellowed.
"I'm going to college, Dad," she replied.
"Lo, you barely passed high school. What in the hell are you going to do in college, other than waste a bunch of money?" Lucy was sitting across the table from Lois and smirking.
"I'm going to get my core courses completed at MCC in Kansas City and then transfer to Metropolis University." She handed him the brochure from the Transportation Office. She had steeled herself for this conversation and almost welcomed a combative discussion.
Her father looked at the brochure, turned it over once and then again as if he was looking for coupons in it. "In what?" Sam posed.
"Just core courses, Dad," she shot back. "I don't have to have a major. These are the basic courses I have to take no matter what discipline I end up studying."
"And Kansas City?" Sam growled. "That's more than 200 miles away from here. Where are you going to stay? How do you plan to live? Community colleges don't have dorms."
"I plan to get an apartment and a job. That's how I plan to live, Dad."
The dinner table discussion lasted about half an hour but when it was over, Lois was anxious to pack her things right back up, get in her car that was being delivered in three days, and get the hell out of her father's orbit before she woke up and found out it was just a dream. Lois was correct in her assumption, Sam had little to say in response to her decision. She had actually outmaneuvered the General and she was feeling pretty good about it.
In the time between breaking the news to her father and departing, Lois pored over online newspapers and websites for help wanted and apartment advertisements. Within a day, Lois had targeted three apartments and four jobs in Olathe, a town southwest of Kansas City and a short 15-mile drive to MCCKC campus. She had filled out online applications and background check forms. She printed out the addresses of the apartment complexes, and locations where businesses were looking for help, just in case she had trouble with getting a phone signal where she was headed. Lois wanted to be prepared for all obstacles.
On the day she left, there was a bit of a reordering of names on her resentment list that she renamed her shit-list now that she was leaving. After loading down her car with essentials and clothes, she stood in the doorway of the government mansion afforded the post commander. Sam hugged her and said, "You be careful, Lo. Kansas City can be a tough town." He handed her an envelope containing $9,500 in cash and a credit card. "This should get you started until you can draw a paycheck. The card is for you if you have an emergency. Let me know when you get settled. I love you, Pumpkin." Lois dropped Sam two positions on her shit-list.
She hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek. "I will Daddy. As soon as I get settled, I'll text you my address." She looked over his shoulder at Lucy who looked like she just got a shot of Novocain. Lois gave her sister a smug smile and received a finger in return, elevating Lucy to the pole position on her shit-list. She released her embrace of Sam, walked the short distance to her loaded down car and got in. She chucked the envelope into the console, slid a CD of Power Ballads Gold, Disc 2, into the CD player and pulled away from the Commanding General's quarters. Twenty minutes later she was listening to White Snake's 'Is This Love' blasting from the car stereo while on Route 61 heading around the southeast side of Hutchinson and looking for the intersection of US 50 that would take her all 210 miles into Kansas City. She felt like an inmate who just finished her sentence and had been released back into civilization.
Lois selected the second apartment she looked at which was not the least expensive nor the most expensive. But it had a nice pool area, a small exercise room, a large laundry room, and two bedrooms, just in case the General decided to pay a visit or she needed a roommate. The $850 a month rent was reasonable for a furnished apartment and included basic cable TV and water, and the manager seemed pleasant. She saw a few people her age in the pool area and that was encouraging. She put down the $500 security deposit, first month's rent, and since she had filled out a background check form online, she had already been cleared as a resident if she chose to live there. The manager gave her the keys.
Her apartment was on the second floor of a three-story complex that wrapped around a well-maintained pool area. All doors opened into the enclosed pool area, which to Lois meant more security than a door opening into a parking lot. There was ample parking and, for an additional fifty dollars a month, she could have a garage, but she opted against the additional cost. She decided that if she ever got a better car or took on a roommate, she might splurge for the private garage but for now it was an unnecessary expense.
She drove into Kansas City and found the Metropolis Community College, Kansas City extension campus on the West side of the city. Looking at the syllabus in the registration office of MCCKC, Lois peered up at a bespectacled woman whose nametag read 'Denise' and appeared to be in her late 40's. Lois winced. "I think I'll just enroll in two classes in the Fall semester. I need to get into a manageable rhythm of work and school," she said haltingly. "Do you have any suggestions for classes that, you know, have a gentle takeoff angle of departure?"
Denise smirked. "Yes, there are some less rigorous classes. Most are electives though," she added, "and you mentioned wanting to take core courses." She looked at Lois who made a face and looked back at the course offerings. "You know Lois, I have a daughter about your age. If I was advising her, my first question would be, 'What do you want to do with your education?'"
"Can I be honest with you?" Lois started, leaning forward in her chair. "College was my iron-clad justification for getting out from under my father's roof…and thumb." The older woman smiled and chuckled. "I haven't even thought about what I want to do for the rest of my life," she said, "but I knew I couldn't stay there any longer and I know to get a decent paying job, I'll need some college under my belt."
Denise nodded. "You'd be surprised at the percentage of students who share your reason for enrolling at MCCKC. I know you didn't ask but MCC is really a very good college and very highly regarded among peer community colleges in the nation. This doesn't answer your question, but you should know that credit hours from MCC will be easy to transfer to four-year colleges." She paused. "But to your main point, I'd say English 101 is a core course and isn't extraordinarily challenging. You seem well-spoken." She scanned the syllabus and then said, "This elective in journalism is another." Denise looked up from the syllabus. "If you don't mind writing articles and reviewing published newspaper or magazine articles, which are generally easier than reading chapters and trying to deduce an author's thoughts, then I'd say that may be a way to start."
Lois rocked her head back and forth in thought. "Hmmmm. Okay, those sound good." She looked at Denise and made a face. "My spelling might need a little…polishing, but I guess the English class will help." She closed the syllabus. "Sign me up for both."
Lois spent the rest of the weekend looking for jobs. The cash Sam had given her had been a godsend. Aside from being able to cover the apartment's first month rent and security deposit, it allowed her to purchase a few items for her bedroom, get internet service through the cable, and buy some groceries. She still had well over $7,500 left and felt that she did not have to take the first job offered. That was a blessing in disguise.
The first job "interview" was at a bar and the job title was hostess. Lois believed the job entailed being a hostess, but it was actually a job as a table dancer working for tips. The greasy-looking manager leering at her began to lean toward her and Lois leaned in his direction and told him that she would seek employment elsewhere and if he got any closer, she was going to re-arrange his face.
Her second job interview was working at a cosmetic counter in a Kansas City Macy's store. She was not offered the position after confiding in the somewhat snooty woman interviewing her that she was more comfortable applying camo stick than cosmetics.
Her third job interview and offer were from a Kansas City steakhouse chain that promised Lois she could easily earn $3,000 a month in tips and wages if she worked regularly. Lois asked to if she could check her college schedule before accepting that job offer and moved on to the final one.
The last job interview she had was at a 24-hour family diner, located at the corner of an intersection in the old historic downtown area of Olathe. The diner was open 24-hours a day and looked as though it had been there for no less than half a century. The advertised job was for their midnight shift waitress position, meaning Lois would work from 9:30 PM to 6:00 AM with a half hour meal break. The pay was not as good as the Kansas City steakhouse, but it did have the advantage of being close to her apartment and Lois liked the older couple, Paul and Margaret Mason, who owned and operated the restaurant. The night manager, Beverly, was the oldest daughter of the owners. She was a divorcee with an 11-year-old daughter that the owners watched while their daughter managed their little slice of the American dream.
The owners liked Lois and were impressed with her background and life experience. They imagined she would fit in well with the overnight crew at the diner. She had grit and she left little doubt that she could handle a rowdy crowd of college kids, late night partiers who had been overserved, or second shift workers with their salty language that patronized the little diner most often. Their daughter imagined that Lois, being a couple years older than their daytime waitresses, might be more reliable and could end up being a friend and confidante to her at some point. They offered her the job and she accepted it, calculating that if she was careful, she could make ends meet working full-time earning about $1,700 per month after taxes plus tips.
It had been five months since Lois moved to Olathe and whenever she stopped to take stock of her existence, she could never decide which surprised her the most: how much she enjoyed the give and take bantering with the second shift Olathe patrons at work or how much she enjoyed the journalism class she was taking. The English course had not been much fun, but she discovered that she had a knack for developing stories from real life events and recording them in a way that made the story more interesting and meaningful.
Moving away from her father and sister had done wonders for her mental state. She was enjoying life, living it on her own terms, and finding that while she missed having a conventional teenage stage, every new day seemed to end up being the best day of her life. But little did Lois realize that a major change was just around the corner.
On Friday, December 13th, Lois was getting off shift. She was under pressure with a journalism article she had to submit that accounted for forty percent of her final grade. During the slack period around 4:30 AM, Lois retreated to a booth, trying to come up with a good angle for a story to report but kept drawing blanks.
At 5:08 AM, Beverly saw Lois sitting idly in the booth, staring blankly at a composition book, walked over, and plopped down on the bench seat across the table from her. "Any luck?" she asked.
Lois groaned. "Not really…and it's crazy. I can do this, Bev. My professor seems to love my work; told me he thinks that I write a damn good article, so I want it to be special. But I need a compelling subject and nothing's coming to mind." She wore a dejected smile. "Olathe isn't exactly a hotbed of compelling events to write about."
"Is there a topic or something specific you have to write about?" Bev asked.
"Yeah, it's funny you asked. It has to be a human-interest article." She rolled her eyes. "But it can't be about yourself," she added. "I was going to write about being a young military brat of an emotionally broken overachiever who lost his wife and never remarried. But…"
"You can't write about yourself," her boss finished.
"Exactly."
The older woman smiled. "Lois, why don't you slip out early this morning," she suggested. "Maybe burning the candle at both ends just has you worn down. Go home and get a jump on sleep and when you wake up, maybe you'll be able to concentrate better." She paused and looked at her watch. "We're only talking about 50 minutes. I think I can handle things here without a waitress for that long, and your replacement will here before then anyway."
She was exhausted. "I'm not going to argue with that." Lois yawned and stretched. "Thanks Bev, I appreciate it." She rose and said, "I'll make it up after I get this article done and turned in." Beverly waved her off. Lois grabbed a plate and coffee mug off a nearby table on the way to the back of the diner, retrieved her coat and purse, and left through the rear door that opened into a small, secluded parking area used by the staff.
The air was brisk, it was dark, and the sun would not begin to crest the horizon for at least another hour. Lois walked to her car but before she reached it, heard the low rumble of a truck engine idling and the sound of muffled voices. She could not tell what was being said but what she heard next was unmistakable; the sound of an automatic pistol slide being pulled back and released. The sound was coming from across and down the street.
Lois crept through a narrow divide between the rear corner of the diner and a wooden fencing that formed a one-lane drive used by employees to access the secluded parking lot behind the diner. She reached the sidewalk, silently dashed across the street and hugged the red brick building, creeping toward the street that ran in front of the diner until she reached the corner of the building. Peering around the corner she saw an armored car idling on the opposite side of the street and halfway down the block in front of an ATM machine. A nearby streetlamp cast enough light to see what was happening and what was happening was an armed car robbery in historic downtown Olathe.
Lois saw three men, one with what appeared to be an AR-15 trained on the two armored car guards at the back of the car as two other men pulled money bags from the open back door and dropped them on the ground. An instant later, a car without lights on pulled from a parking space further down the block, raced to where the armored car was, and pulled in inches from driver's door of the armored car, effectively preventing the driver door from opening.
Once the car was in position, one of the two men unloading money from the armored car began hurriedly carrying bags to the back of the car parked next to the armored car, a silver Buick Park Avenue from the late 90's. Lois knew the car. It was the first car she could remember from her childhood. It had been the car in which she rode with her mom to the Commissary before she died, before everything changed.
Ducking back around the corner, Lois dug through her purse and found her cell phone. She dialed 9-1-1 and the operator immediately answered. "I'm calling to report an armored car robbery in progress," she began. "My name is Lois Lane and I'm at the intersection of Landon and Monument in old Olathe." The dispatcher began asking questions. "There are three men and one driver, one man is armed with an AR-15 rifle holding the guards at bay, and at least one of the other two is armed with an automatic pistol." She paused as the dispatcher asked her another question. "I heard the slide." Another question and then, "The car appears to be silver in color. It is a late 90's Buick Park Avenue." She paused for another question. "Yes, I'm sure. We had one growing up." She paused again as the dispatcher asked her a question. "No, I can't describe them, it's too dark."
Lois stood, back pressed against the cold brick building as the dispatcher alerted and dispatched the nearest units to the robbery. She forgot about her fatigue, her adrenaline was pumping wildly and she wanted to tell the operator to hurry up.
"Stay on the line, please," the operator calmly said to her.
"Let's go!" Lois heard and peered back around the corner to see the two men who had been pulling bags out of the back of the armored car now hauling the bags to the rear door of the Buick and throwing them in. The man with the rifle remained standing. Lois ducked back and told the operator, "They're getting ready to leave. They're putting the money bags in the car right now," she said excitedly and louder than she intended but the stress and the sounds of the men shuttling money bags to the car concealed her voice.
She heard an unusual 'thunk' sound and peered back around the corner to see the guard closest to the gunman drop to the ground. He had been hit on the head with the butt of the AR-15. The other guard was curled on the sidewalk, but she had not heard any gunfire or sounds of him dropping.
The gunman lowered his rifle, skipped to the front passenger door and climbed in as the other two were closing the rear passenger door. The car tires squealed as the Buick pulled away from the armored car. Lois ducked back behind the corner and again pressed up against the wall. The Buick's headlights came on and the car swung wildly around the corner where Lois was standing and raced down Landon Avenue.
"It just turned the corner where I'm standing. They're heading East on Landon Avenue," she told the operator in a rapid-fire delivery. "I have a partial plate number. It's a Missouri plate, 145 TW and it's either an H or an N, I think." She moved away from the wall as only the car's taillights were now visible. She stepped around the corner to see the driver getting out of the armored car. "You need to send an ambulance, both of the guards are down," she ordered. "I'm hanging up now."
Lois disconnected and sprinted across and down the street. The driver of the armored car had reached the guard who had been hit with the rifle and Lois ran past him to the guard curled on the sidewalk. She reached the man who appeared to be in his late 50's and was laying still, curled onto his left side into a fetal position, squeezing his chest, and had stopped breathing.
She held her fingers against the man's carotid artery and could not feel a pulse. She quickly rolled the man onto his back, tilted his head back, checked his mouth for dentures, then squeezed his nose shut and blew a breath into his lungs. She then began chest compressions and continued them until the paramedics arrived.
The paramedics led the guard who had been struck to the back of the ambulance and stayed there as he climbed unsteadily inside of the vehicle. The other guard was being loaded into the back on a gurney. The other guard had been revived and loaded on a gurney, with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. As the head of the gurney was lifted, he looked directly at Lois and gave her a slight nod and a weak 'thumbs-up' sign. She smiled.
The police arrived and one of the officers came up to her. "Are you the person who reported the robbery?"
"I am." Lois replied. The cop took out a small notebook and began making notes. "My name is Lois Joanne Lane, born August 17, 1994, Weisbaden, Germany." She paused. "My father was assigned there, he's in the Army."
They went through a series of questions and Lois answered them the best that she could. Beverly had seen the commotion from the window and had brought several cups of coffee down to the police and armored car driver. The sight of Lois there shocked her. "I thought you were going home!" she called out.
"I was," Lois replied, taking one of the cups of coffee from Beverly. "I got distracted," she said with a wink. Beverly nodded. "We'll talk tonight," she added, and Beverly continued toward the armored car driver.
The police continued to question her for another twenty minutes and during that time, she heard across the patrolman's radio that Kansas City police had intercepted the suspect vehicle and taken four males into custody about a mile and a half before the Kansas-Missouri state line.
"Yes!" Lois hissed triumphantly.
"You did a really good job calling this in, Miss Lane," the young patrolman said. "They would have been hiding out in Missouri long before we knew it if you hadn't given us such a good description." Lois smiled. "I don't know if you noticed but they spray-painted the driver's window so he couldn't see their car to give us a description. If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have had much to go on."
She was released and before she left, she stopped to talk to the armored car driver who was standing next to the vehicle with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Any word on the two guards?" she asked.
"Both are at the hospital right now. Lou had a slight concussion and Andres had a heart attack but apparently, he's stable right now in recovery." The man looked at Lois and said, "I'd like to shake your hand," he said and extended a big meaty hand in her direction. "You saved Andres' life. He's a good family man and has been a good friend for twelve years. He has a wife and family and because of you, they'll have a husband and father for a while longer." The man got choked up. "Sorry," he croaked.
She shook his hand. "I'm glad he'll be okay," Lois said, got teary-eyed herself and quickly wiped a tear before it fell. Suddenly she had a thought. "I'd like to visit him later today. Could you tell me his last name?"
"Ballesteros," the driver said and then spelled it for Lois.
Lois was recognized by the police and armored car company in a small ceremony at the police station just after the new year. The police chief presented a commendation certificate to her, and the armored car company's regional director was on hand to thank her and present her a check for $5,000. Also in attendance were the two guards, Louis Denning and Andres Ballesteros, their wives, and Andres' two adult children.
The ceremony was only one of the outcomes Lois enjoyed from the incident. The next ceremony occurred five weeks later when Lois's article she wrote as her final project earned her a 'Bronze Quill' award for journalism. The award was presented to a number of authors and journalists each year based on a variety of literary categories, both fiction and non-fiction, poetry and prose.
Her professor was so impressed with Lois's human-interest story about a Brazilian immigrant named Andres Ballesteros and his American journey, he submitted it to the writers' society panel that selected and hosted the Bronze Quill awards.
Lois's article marked the first MCC student article to ever be submitted for consideration of a Bronze Quill award, making it all the more noteworthy and making Lois's career choice crystal clear.