Chapter 2
For the tenth time in as many minutes Jonathan said to his excited son, “Sit down, please, Clark. Your mother’ll be ready shortly.”
Jonathan tracked his son’s progress as he slid down from the bed after thirty seconds of restfulness and raced around the guest bedroom making airplane noises. Smiling slightly, he decided not to chastise Clark again. After all, they were at William Clark’s house visiting and the last thing Martha’s father would do was open the door to his daughter’s domain without invitation. Such an action might upset the shaky truce Martha had brokered between her husband and her father since Clark landed in their lives. Neither one of them wanted to have an angry Martha hounding them to behave themselves today. Although Jonathan would not admit it aloud, there was just something extremely sexy about his wife in a snit - not that he would ever tell her that.
Driving up to Metropolis late Wednesday evening and having supper with William last night had tested Jonathan’s patience sorely. Adding insult to injury was the fact that the Kents would not be at the Ely Farmer’s Market today. It was the first time since Hiram had been going to Ely on Thursdays that he would be missing it. The trip to Ely was very lucrative because the weekly market was well attended by the neighboring towns. Owing to its proximity to Metropolis, many restaurant buyers traveled to the Farmer’s market to purchase fresh produce. Martha’s cakes and pies were a big hit. Jonathan wasn’t complaining this morning, however as he adjusted his pants surreptitiously, because his wife had rewarded him so nicely last night for behaving himself with her father as well as foregoing income to the farm’s bottom line. Anyway, it was all for a good cause. In a short while, they would be going with William to sign the legal documents formalizing Clark’s adoption.
Martha sat next to Lillian around the oval conference table after William had left for his office to file the executed documents.
Lunch had been brought in and the boys would be joining them shortly once they returned from the washroom.
“Lillian, I can’t believe you got so much accomplished since Lionel’s death,” Martha stated.
Tapping her chin lightly with her index finger, Lillian said thoughtfully, “I’ll tell you, I’ve slept better in the last six months. I’m not afraid anymore that Lionel will come home in the evening, charge into my room and…err… you know.” Smiling broadly, Lillian continued, “Furthermore, I’ve cleaned house.”
“The mistress?” Martha questioned delicately.
“Yes, Rachel Dunleavy has been turfed out. I gave her the marching papers myself. And it felt sooooooo good.”
Martha grinned, “I’m not surprised.”
“I had mixed feelings about it. She did take care of Lionel’s demands but, hell; she was openly sleeping with my husband.”
Leaning forward, Martha grasped her friend’s hands and waited until she had her full attention. “Lillian, what you did for me, for Jonathan and me-establishing Metropolis United Charities, getting Clark’s adoption legalized-I can never thank you enough. Anything I can ever do, just ask.”
Tearing her gaze away from Martha’s, Lillian looked around the bland conference room. “I know you wondered why I had Mr. Clark do all this cloak-and-dagger stuff today.”
“I can’t imagine why you didn’t want us to meet at my father’s office. You had him reserve all the conference rooms in the basement of this hotel.”
Staring in the distance, Lillian said apropos to nothing, “My husband was a bad man.”
Martha noticed the door opening signaling her son’s return along with his father and Lex. She felt a quiver of joy as she said the words ‘her son’ mentally. It was true, at last. Releasing one of Lillian’s hands, she waved the three males over.
Pointing at the food, she said, “Jon, would you take Clark and Lex to one of the empty rooms next door and have a picnic lunch? Lillian and I’ll stay here.
Shooting his mother a concerned glance, Lex relaxed when she assured him, “It’s OK, sweetheart. Martha and I want to talk privately.”
Nodding in agreement, Lex directed his next words to Clark, who was skipping along next to him. “What d’you want to eat squirt? The last time we ate together, you were inhaling grilled cheese sandwiches.”
Clark clapped his hands together and shouted, “I wuves cheez ‘wiches.”
Within a few minutes Jonathan was shepherding the young boys and their overflowing lunch trays out of the room. Clark was asking Lex where cheese came from and Lex was giving a detailed¬-and accurate lecture-on dairy production.
Smiling proudly, Jonathan said to the two women, “I’ll take care of our sons. We’re going to share some male bonding time. You ladies talk as long as you like.”
Exchanging fond smiles with her husband as he left the room, Martha let go of Lillian’s wrist and pushed away from the table and walked to where the lunch had been set up.
“What’d you like Lil? The hotel really laid it on.”
Lillian did not get up. “A turkey sandwich and a diet soda.”
It was the work of moments for Martha to carry their lunch choices back to their end of the conference table. A comfortable silence settled around the two women as they picked at their lunches.
It was into this silence Lillian began to explain. “There’s something rotten at LuthorCorp. I’ve been trying to unearth all the side deals Lionel had going and I’m here to tell you, Martha, the man was scum, through and through. I’ve rehired Alexander’s nanny, Pamela as my executive assistant. I trust her a lot, Martha, but there are limits to what I’ll tell her.”
At Martha’s raised eyebrow, Lillian continued, “You asked me a few minutes ago what you can do to help. I’d like you to be there for Alexander if anything ever happens to me. He adores your son and you’re a fierce protector, Martha.” Reminiscing, Lillian said, “Do you remember Wade Conley? You popped him one when he was poking fun of me right after the Inquisitor published the story about the Berger estate being bankrupt.”
Exploring the enormity of what Lillian was saying, Martha asked, “Are you in direct danger? Is Lex?”
Lillian put down her sandwich distressed, “I don’t know. I feel threatened. Pamela’s convinced me to see a doctor. He claimed my feelings were normal anxiety resulting from Lionel’s death.” Shrugging dispiritedly, Lillian uttered carefully, “I don’t think so. There are days when I get back to the mansion and take a long soak trying to wash the slime off me. The side deals, the blackmail, it’s all coming to light. Dr. Gardner gave me some medication to take away my anxiety, though. I’ve been taking them at night and they seem to be helping.”
“What exactly do you need me to do?” Martha asked.
Gesturing in the space around her, Lillian said, “This is why I went to such elaborate lengths. I didn’t want us to be overtly connected. I used a separate lawyer from the drones at LutherCorp to work with your Dad and set up the adoption paperwork. No one knows I’m here today. I listed a different appointment on my schedule.”
Pushing her smooth coif back in a practiced gesture, Lillian went on, “I’d like Alexander and Clark to continue to meet. I’ll try to arrange it a couple of times a year so they can spend some time together. You can visit your Dad with Clark and I’ll find some time when we can all connect. Lex is a bright boy; I’ll let him know what’s going on. I don’t want him to be a stranger to you. After all, he might be your son one day,” Lillian said hollowly.
“Lil, do you know what you’re saying?” Martha expostulated, “Oh, I don’t have a problem with taking care of Lex. Jon and I’ll be honored to help. But, this danger you’re talking about-is there anything we can do, my dad-?”
Interjecting harshly, Lillian declared, “Protect my son. No one knows about you, and I’ll take care of cleaning up LuthorCorp. I want my son to inherit an ethical business-a thriving business.”
Glancing at her Cartier watch, Lillian noted, “I’ve to leave soon. Pamela has found an excellent business manager she’d like me to meet. If he’s any good, I’ll hire him.”
Disquieted by her conversation with Lillian, Martha sighed and gathered herself. “Let’s interrupt the male bonding.”
“What exactly happens during male bonding?” Lillian asked with forced cheer.
“The usual,” Martha answered, “Men teach each other how to belch and fart loudly.”
The two women laughed and said in unison, “Oh no!”
As her father pulled up to the curb near the intersection of Chastain Lane and Riverfront Crossing, Martha twisted and leaned over the back of the front passenger’s seat to help her son with his seat belt. Clark was getting bigger and he tried to be very careful when working with locks and snaps. Nevertheless, she hovered in case he fumbled with the locking mechanism. She did not want her son to rip the seatbelt apart in a fit of frustration. He was excited enough about seeing Lex soon and impatient with any delays.
Leaving the Lincoln Town Car’s engine idling, William Clark protested, “Martha, I don’t feel comfortable dropping you off here. This is the warehouse district. I know you and Lillian are trying to be careful. But this isn’t safe.”
“Dad, it’ll fine,” Martha soothed. “Lillian would never put her son in danger. Therefore, Clark and I are both safe.” Checking the number on the abandoned building on the corner, she continued, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll go in and check to be sure it’s OK.”
Martha’s plan was thwarted when she turned to address Clark and caution him to wait in the car. Her son had a stubborn expression on his face. He would not be waiting quietly in the car while she went to investigate. Changing her mind quickly, she emerged from the vehicle and opened the back door.
Reaching in for Clark who clambered into her arms, she assured her chauffeur, “Dad, we’ve done these meetings three times since the first occasion when we met in the hotel to sign the paperwork. Lillian has her reasons and I ask you to respect them.”
Offended, William huffed, “You’re my only daughter and Clark’s my grandson. It’s a father’s prerogative to worry.”
Smiling Martha returned, “You know, I understand why you and Jonathan rub each other the wrong way. You’re both cut from the same cloth and I love both of you for worrying. Each time we’ve done this, Lillian and Lex have had us come to a different location. But they’ve all been safe. I expect this one to be no different.”
“Mamma! Yex’s here.” Clark cried out happily.
Turning around, Martha saw the open doorway two doors down where Lex stood.
“OK, Dad. Come back to pick up us in ninety minutes. I don’t want your arrival to coincide with Lillian’s departure.”
“Martha-” William Clark began.
Putting Clark down was out of the question even as he struggled in her arms. Martha knew he would zoom to Lex and that would raise another set of questions she did not want to address with her father.
“See you in a bit, Dad.” Martha walked swiftly toward her semiannual rendezvous with her best friend.
Once inside the warehouse Martha was surprised that it was not as derelict as it had looked on the outside. The inside of the building was empty and clean. It had obviously once been some type of factory but all the machinery had been cleared out leaving a cavernous empty space that had been swept clean. Natural lighting was provided by the rows of windows marching along the four walls positioned close to the high ceiling. A narrow set of crosshatched metal steps led to a catwalk that ringed the space beneath.
“Martha, I’m so glad you came.” Lillian Luthor walked to her friend arms outstretched.
“ Lil, it’s wonderful to see you.” Martha returned the hug.
As one, the two women observed their sons reconnecting in the same way exchanging tight hugs.
Walking away from Martha, Lillian twisted the two locks on the door Martha and Clark had just walked through. “Ostensibly, I’m having a picnic in the park with Alexander after visiting a possible factory acquisition. So we have about an hour before the driver comes back.” Lillian gestured to some brightly colored material against the wall. “I had the driver leave the blankets here a couple of weeks ago. I told Pamela I wanted to absorb the ambience of the space before I made a decision on leasing this space. Let’s grab them and go up the stairs. We can sit there and chat while the children play in the space on the main floor.”
Grabbing the blankets, Martha followed Lillian up the stairs. She was surprised at how wan her friend looked.
Hiding her concern, she said laughingly, “Playing the rich eccentric, Lil?”
“Whatever works, my dearest friend,” Lillian retorted flippantly.
Once upstairs, Martha positioned Lillian so that her friend leaned against the wall. Martha sat at the edge of the gantry where she could monitor Lex and Clark with the occasional quick glance down. They were engaged in some game where Lex and Clark chased each other. Apparently tickles were the forfeit and Clark’s high childish laughter drifted upwards to where she and Lillian sat.
It had been fairly easy to hide Clark’s abilities-his speed and his strength-from Lillian. Martha was sure that Lex knew. That intelligent young boy had exchanged a very telling look with her the first time he and Clark spent time together at the Kent farmhouse. She had sent them to Clark’s room to find play clothes and something had happened upstairs, because when he returned, he looked at her long and hard before nodding decisively and urging Clark outside to play. In his somber glance she saw the fierce, nascent love Lex felt for her son and she knew, without a shred of doubt that he would not expose Clark. She had received confirmation time and again at each of their encounters, when he would steer Clark away from performing actions that would expose his secret to Lillian’s curious eyes. Lex had earned Martha’s respect that day two and a half years ago. The love she had for Lex Luthor grew easily from there.
Knowing that Clark was safe with Lex, Martha turned her attention to Lillian. She was alarmed at the pallor on her friend’s face.
“What’s going on, Lil? I thought you’d hired a business manager.”
Sighing Lillian said tiredly, “I did. Pamela recommended Dominic Senatori and he knows his way around corporate. He’s very competent. That’s not the problem.” Slumping onto the bunched up blanket beneath her, Lillian relaxed some more and continued, “I’m so glad he and Pamela are there for me. LuthorCorp still has some unsavory dealings that Dominic is trying to root out. It’s almost as if there’s a putrid hydra as the root of LuthorCorp. As soon as I find one sleazy project Lionel funded and Dominic turns his attention to dismantling it, there’s another one waiting to be exposed.”
“But, Lil, you’ve to take of yourself,” Martha remonstrated. “Lex needs you.”
Looking up into her friend’s eyes, Lillian confided, “Sometimes my head is so full like it’s stuffed with cotton. I can’t think. My brain feels like it’s going to explode.” Chuckling wryly, she added, “Dr. Garner’s little pills really help then.”
Grasping Martha’s hand, Lillian stated urgently, “I want to keep LuthorCorp but handling it is overwhelming. I’m thinking about selling it and investing the proceeds. Alexander can start a new business when he gets older using those funds as seed money.”
Troubled by Lillian’s words, Martha responded, “Then do so; sell LuthorCorp. Lex is such a bright young man that he can do anything he wants to. If he wants to start a new company he will. Maybe, he’ll call it LexCorp.”
Crooking her arm underneath her head, and settling more comfortably on the multihued blanket, Lillian said softly, “I feel so safe here, Martha. I’m going to sleep for a little while.”
“Go ahead, Lil. I’ll watch over the kids and you.”
A breathy snore answered Martha’s comment.
Martha looked down at the two boys on the main floor. They were sitting together facing each other and talking earnestly. Her troubled eyes roamed over them and back to her sleeping friend. She hoped Lillian would follow through with her idea to sell LuthorCorp. If that dratted business hadn’t been sold by the time Lillian arranged their next meeting, she would urge her to do so. Instead of rising above LuthorCorp’s tawdry business dealings, it seemed as if LuthorCorp was draining Lillian’s energy and health.
Lillian wrapped her hands around her body and began her nightly pacing of the hallway between her room and her son's. She didn't know anymore what was real and what was not when the shadows loomed along the walls. Humming so she could drown out the voices, she made the circuit one more time. She wasn't surprised when she reached the end of the hallway and the door was cracked open. Even in the gloom she noted the rounded curve of her twelve-year-old son’s bare scalp tilted inquiringly at her. Pressing flat against the wall near the open doorway, she slid down and opened her arms. Without a word, Lex crawled close to her and tucked his head into the curve of her body.
"You're getting so big." Lillian murmured. "I need to protect you. I don't want them to get you and take you away. You're my precious baby and I can't let them take you away from me."
Lex stiffened when he heard the babbling. Then he deliberately relaxed. It was going to be one of those nights. Recently there had been more of the bad nights than the good ones. His mother was patting his shoulders followed by rubbing long swaths of warmth from elbow to wrist.
Suddenly Lillian gripped his right wrist tightly with urgent command and she whispered harshly, "Go to Martha! I know you haven’t met with Clark for over a year but that doesn’t matter. If anything happens, don't stay in Metropolis. Go to the Kents immediately."
Lex looked up into his mother's eyes but it was too late, the moment of lucidity was gone. Glancing down at his wrist which was now free, he wondered when he'd lost his mother. Remembering the last time he had seen Clark, his smile was bittersweet. When he and his mother left the warehouse that day he sensed her resolve to make immediate changes to their lives.
Sitting in the back of the limousine, she had talked with him quietly about her decision to sell LuthorCorp. She planned to tell Mr. Senatori that they would not be acquiring the factory at their business meeting the next morning. She would also be informing him that he should start shopping around for a buyer for the LuthorCorp albatross. Less than a month later he was headed for the exclusive Excelsoir Preparatory School for Young Men to start the fall semester. When he returned home at Christmas, his mother was ill and plans to sell the company had been shelved.
He was unsurprised to see Pamela framed at the end of the corridor. A quiet click heralded her intention and Lex squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of light from the sconces along the hallway.
The sound of Pamela heels were muffled as she walked down the carpet. Kneeling next to him, Pamela gave him a quick smile and asked, "How is she tonight?"
Lex didn't answer.
Efficiently, Pamela guided Lillian to her feet, and with Lex on the other side, they took her back to her room. At the door, the woman walking between her guides balked. "I don't want to go back there. The voices are there."
Pamela soothed her, "I washed the pillows myself, Mrs. Luthor. There's nothing there."
Trustingly, Lillian turned to Lex's former nanny and whispered sweetly, "You're so good to me, Pam. I'll go to bed now."
In a matter of minutes, Lillian Luthor was in bed with her lights off and sliding into sleep with the help of a mild sedative.
Pamela hugged Lex once they were on the other side of Lillian's door. "She'll be fine, Lex. You go back to Excelsior and I'll do my best for her."
Returning the hug, Lex breathed in Pamela's fragrance. It represented security and safety to him.
"She's not doing better Pamela. Every time I return home from break, she's weaker, less lucid."
Pamela squeezed his wrist in sympathy faintly echoing his mother's tight grasp from earlier. Sighing, Lex turned away; the woman was doing her best. His mother was slipping away from reality and he didn't know how to prevent it. He was a Luthor with a great destiny ahead of him according to his mother. Except that he was only twelve years old and the importance of that future wasn’t helping heal his mother now.
"Going back to your sewing?" Lex asked perfunctorily, wanting to draw out the quiet support he felt from his companion.
Pamela laughed softly, "You know me too well. There's always some mending to do. Some one," she said archly, "gets irritated with store bought shirts and labels at the neck and I have to adjust these garments."
"Hmmm, I have no idea who that could be." Lex yawned and turned away reluctantly, "And that's not even taking into account all the other needlepoint you do for everyone else. Anyway, g'night."
"Night Lex."
A small smile still played around Pamela's lips as she entered her room. Sitting comfortably on her wingback chair, she ignored the woven basket filled with white shirts next to the chair. Reaching forward, she lifted the top of the ottoman before her and drew out a carefully folded pile. Shaking out the item at the top, she reached for her needle from the sewing kit. While there she opened a hidden compartment and reached for a small black dot. Carefully, she started sewing-neat, tiny stitches affixing the micro-transmitter to the inside of Lillian Luthor's freshly laundered pillowcase.
"I'm fine, Pam. I'm just going to fencing class."
Pamela held him close and hugged him again. For the first time ever, Lex felt as if she was clinging to him, preventing him from getting away.
"I know you are, but your Mother just died..." Pam bit her lip. She trailed off at his acidic glare as he pulled away from her embrace.
"Fencing clears my head," Lex finished shortly.
Sighing, Pamela said wistfully, "I know, but it's so lonely in the mansion; I miss your mother. I could use some company."
Now, Lex was certain of his inner feelings. He knew there was a trap closing in on him. Maybe he was channeling his mother and her paranoia but he needed to get away immediately. Had it only been fourteen months earlier when he had hugged Pamela one night, rock solid conviction in his mind that she was keeping his mother safe and nursing her back to health? Masking his urgency with forced politeness, Lex leaned forward and brushed a kiss on Pamela's cheek feeling like Judas, a betrayer.
"I won't be gone long. I haven't been practicing recently so Heike will probably torture me and send me home early."
Pamela pressed against him for a moment longer, "OK, I get it. You need to clear your head, burn some energy. I called Frank, he's waiting for you. We’ll talk when you get back-make plans."
Holding his knapsack loosely, Lex gave her a careless wave and made his way swiftly out of the Luthor mansion. His chauffeur, Frank, loomed near the black sedan waiting for him.
"Hi, Frank." Another forced smile and Lex slid into the back seat when the tall man held the door open for him. His mind ticking over his escape route meant that Lex could ignore the suspicious looks Frank was sending his way.
The sedan slid to a smooth stop directly in front of the fencing salon. From past experience Lex knew that the license plates, Luthor 1, meant that no tickets would be given and Frank would be waiting for him at the end of the lesson. He had a quick chill as he contemplated what he was doing. He was following a quicksilver thread of unease that told him all was not well in the Luthor world and that feeling had nothing to do with his mother's recent suicide and funeral.
He wasn't sure if Heike was involved or not. Shaking off his unease, Lex emerged from the car and walked with purpose to the red wooden door of the salon. He did not notice Frank glaring at him, being too preoccupied with the enormity of what he was about to attempt-disappear from Metropolis without anyone being the wiser.
Heike was not only a champion fencer but also an astute business woman. She owned the four story building, using the top floor for her living quarters with the floor below being divided into six salles for training aspiring fencers. The basement was reserved for music and she had divided the space into small soundproofed rooms that musicians could rent for practicing or teaching. The floors sandwiched between were rented to other tenants for dance classes or acting.
Lex pressed the buzzer to the basement. Mrs. Tilder was a sweet-faced, wrinkled, old woman of indeterminate years who taught piano to eager and not so eager hopefuls. She also had the virtue of having taught Lex when he was younger and she doted on him. He was taking a calculated risk and he wasn’t sure yet if it would pay off.
As the door buzzed, Lex pushed it inwards and saw Heike waiting at the top of the stairs.
"Lex, come up. Pamela called. I have been waiting." Heike said formally in short sentences. Dutch was her mother tongue and she considered English less elegant, only learning enough to communicate with her students.
"Just a minute," Lex answered, "I want to thank Mrs. Tilder for the sympathy card and flowers she sent. I'll be a moment." He turned and clattered down the stairs leading to the basement.
As soon as he was out of sight, Lex slipped off his highly polished shoes and changed quickly into the sneakers he had in his knapsack. Bypassing the door to Mrs Tilder's domain, he reached the end of the hallway. According to Metropolis Fire Department regulations, each floor had to have two areas of egress and during business hours these doors had to be open from the inside. Dropping to his knees, Lex pawed under the lowest tread of the stair leading to the back exit of the building. Heart in his throat, he felt around until his index finger slid over the smooth paper bag. Tugging it loose, he pulled the brown bag from where it was wedged.
Rising smoothly to his feet, Lex opened the bag. It was heavier than he expected. A soundless whistle escaped his pursed lips. He couldn't stop to count the money but even a quick glance assured him that there was more in the bag than what he had given his former piano teacher. He turned back and saw Mrs. Tilder's door crack open.
She mouthed at him, "Go."
Aware of the ticking seconds, Lex gave a brief formal bow of thanks, retrieved the Metropolis Sharks cap from the brown paper bag, and tugged it down to his ears. Pulling his shirt’s tails out of his pants so that he would look less formally dressed, Lex ran up the stairs into the daylight and freedom. He took with him Mrs. Tilder's encouraging smile.
Crossing the pocket sized patch of green behind the salon, Lex opened the metallic gate and turned right. He broke into a jog and crossed Pine and Southern. Another right turn took him away from the quiet street, which opened onto Main. Blending into the afternoon crowd, he dodged through the passersby. He dared not stop until he was on the bus.
He saw the Metropolis bus terminal ahead. Slowing to a fast walk, Lex pulled the cap down securely and entered the double doors leading to the terminal. Scanning the prominent departure board hanging in the center of the large atrium, he noted that the bus he needed was leaving from Gate 10. Turning around slowly, he noted a couple of guards standing around and the Men’s room on the far side of the entrance hall. Lex knew his build was slight and that led to him looking younger than he was. He did not want to attract any attention by appearing to be an unaccompanied minor on a school day. He checked the crowd queued at the Gate and then the time to departure. Waving vaguely, seemingly as though chatting with someone across the vestibule, he pointed to the Men’s room and forced himself to walk slowly toward it. Once there, he slipped into the furthest stall and locked the flimsy door. Heart pounding, he climbed onto the toilet seat, hung his head between his bent knees, and waited.
Glancing at his watch he realized that he had a scant minute to make his departure. Lex unlocked the door and washed his hands. Ambling out of room, marginally calmer, Lex checked Gate 10 to the left and then picked up his pace dramatically. The waiting passengers had boarded. Chest heaving, the young man raced through the gate. The door to the bus was already closing. Risking dismemberment, Lex stuck his hand in the door while shouting peremptorily, "Wait!"
"I didn' see you." The driver said brusquely.
"Sorry. Was in the Mens." Lex pulled down the bill of the cap partially obscuring his features and tried to make his diction less cultured. Jerking his head as if to indicate someone on the bus, he muttered, "Didn’t they tell you where I was?" Transferring his knapsack to the same hand holding the paper bag, he opened the bag with his free hand and felt around inside. "Gimme a minute, I've my ticket." Upon touching the sharp edge of something stiff and hoping it was the correct bus ticket Mrs. Tilder had purchased for him, he pulled it out and handed it to the waiting driver.
He took the stub the older man returned and uttered, "T’anks."
Walking past the front and middle sections of the bus, Lex settled into an empty pair of seats close to the back of the bus. The bus pulled away from the gate. It was bound for Grandville.
Lex slouched down in his seat. It was time to do a quick change. He had been too nervous to do it earlier while waiting in the Men’s room. Wriggling out of his high-quality dress pants, he pulled on a pair of distressed jeans. The untucked, pale blue, sport shirt was exchanged for a worn striped jersey. He pulled out a crushed black cotton sac, placing in it the precious items he'd been able to sneak out of his home.
Feigning sleep, he waited until a fellow passenger, a teenager who was paying more attention to the music coming from her ear-buds judging from the way her body was moving to the music, returned to her seat, ahead of him, after using the washroom at the back of the bus. Carefully he opened the paper bag. He took out the money and had to stifle a gasp. Mrs. Tilder had quadrupled what he had given her. Unbidden, tears sprang to his eyes. He had felt so alone, for so long, that this kindness from his former music teacher was a welcome balm to his heart. Drawing solace from what she had already done for him, Lex secreted the money inside his belt where he had already split it apart on the underside in preparation for storing the money. He took off his sneakers, worked off the inner sole, peeled it away and evenly divided the other bills and laid them flat, before replacing the flexible form. Checking the time, he sat down to wait for the first stop.
Lex was too nervous to relax so he went over the plan in his mind looking for flaws. He freely admitted to himself that he'd thought the weakest link would have been Mrs. Tilder. He had to entrust her with buying five bus tickets, one each to Grandville, Smallville, Edge City and Gotham. Moreover, he had given her those instructions hidden among some sheet music he managed to slip her when she came to the mansion to pay her condolences upon the death of her star pupil, Lillian. The final ticket was a transfer from the Grandville bus to a Smallville bus at the small town of Ely, an hour west of Metropolis.
Grandville was due west of Metropolis while Smallville was southwest. Together with Metropolis the three towns formed a triangle connected by flat, straight lanes of blacktop. Gotham was directly east of Metropolis, with Edge City located equidistant and west of Grandville. Studying the bus schedules on the computer while he was supposed to be working on an essay for his tutor titled "Metropolis: the hub of the Midwest," he zeroed in on a way to escape while causing maximum confusion. The 2:20pm local bus to Grandville left at the same time as the express bus to Smallville. Once his jailors discovered he was missing, Lex knew that they would try to find him immediately. To do so, they would enlist the aid of the authorities and that would mean checking all routes out of town.
Lex wasn't sure when the Luthor staff had gone from household help to captors in his mind, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he did not get away from his home something terrible would happen to him. Restraining himself from reaching to check that he still had the articles he'd discovered sewn into his mother's pillow after she'd hung herself.
He went back to staring sightlessly out the window and thought about interconnectedness. Right now he was sure he'd already been reported missing. The trick was to get off the bus at Ely unnoticed. Knowing that there would be a hue and cry for the missing Luthor heir, the next part of his plan was crucial.
Checking the knapsack one last time to ascertain he had not left anything he needed inside, Lex patted his black bag. He felt for the hard edges of the book wherein he'd stored his birth certificate. Just as the bus turned into the depot at Ely, Lex looked out anxiously. There were no police cruisers waiting but he counted eight people loitering outside waiting to board arriving buses. The bus trundled to a stop at the end of the low building.
A uniformed employee ambled out of the building. He looked down at the wide silver watch on his wrist then up at the large round clock perched above the metal door marking the entrance to the Ely station. He walked to the driver’s side window and asked loudly, “What’d you do Harry? Blow every light between here and Metrop’lis?”
The grizzled driver laughed, “Nah, I wouldn’ do that, Sam. Less ‘n a year before I retire? Heck, no. I was just cruisin’ along but I caught every green light getting to Ely and there warn’t much traffic. I never had to step on the brakes once I pulled outta Metropolis Central. Just shows you what old Bessie can do without the lights and cars slowing her down.” Harry patted the wheel.
Sam chuckled in agreement and warned, “Well, I’m not letting you joyride to Grandville. You came in 38 minutes early. Let your passengers off until it’s time to leave.”
Harry, the driver, opened the door at the front of the bus and pulled the microphone towards him. Switching it on, he announced, “Folks, we made it into Ely ahead o’ schedule. Won’t be leaving for ‘nother half hour or so. Get yerselves some coffee or somethin’. Sam’ll make an announcement when we’re ready to pull out.”
Lex waited until the people in the front seats of the bus stood and edged into the aisle before moving forward rapidly. He swung the black bag across his back and muttering, "Excuse me," squeezed ahead of the teenager, using his slight build to his advantage.
The young woman was swaying a little as she waited her turn to disembark, still keeping time with whatever she was hearing through her earphones. Thus, Lex left the bus barely noticed by the other passengers ahead and behind him, appearing to be just one youngster traveling with another teenager.
Upon exiting the bus, Lex wasted no time, striding rapidly along the outer walls of the depot. A few blocks ahead was his destination. It was the Farmer's market-open from 7:00am through 3:30pm, Thursdays, year round. He had been concerned about being able to make it into Ely and get to the Farmer’s Market before Jonathan left. With the bus arriving early into Ely, his heart lightened; he would not miss his getaway.
Making a sharp detour to the left, Lex hopped over the low picket fence and took a moment to orient himself. Walking through the parked vehicles, he scanned to his right and left searching for the battered Kent pickup. He came upon it so quickly, he was almost startled. Hastily looking around, he dropped into a squat and crept towards the truck. Rising stealthily, he checked again and hopped up on the tailgate and landed on the flat bed. Quickly, he pulled the ever-present tarp over himself and waited for Jonathan Kent to return and drive to Smallville with an extra passenger. Lex knew he was almost home free but he would not relax until he was in Smallville on the Kent’s farm surrounded by Martha’s fierce protectiveness and exchanging hugs with his only friend, Clark.
Chapter 3