Echo of the Dance - by Ottereel
ONE
I didn’t know if I could do it. The doorknob was looming in front of me, looking very innocent against the dread in my head. Pulling up my hand, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and made myself take a slow and deep breath.
What was the matter with me? I’d resolved weeks ago that I would come here, that I would step out of my fear and reach for help.
Swallowing hard, I grabbed the innocent doorknob and twisted it easily. The glass-inset wooden door opened wide as if to welcome me further and I cautiously stepped into the warm and eclectic interior, the waiting room to the Isis Foundation.
The upholstered chairs, the room, were all empty. Even the receptionist’ desk, wrapped with deep walnut hardwood, sat devoid of human warmth or character.
Rolling my eyes, I checked my watch. I must’ve come too early or on a lunch hour or something.
The phone rang loudly and I nearly jumped from my skin. Gaping in all directions, I couldn’t believe no one was here to answer it.
Two rings and then three. I nearly walked back out until I heard a muffled voice and then the click of a door open.
“Of all the days!” A petite blond woman dashed into the room from behind a door marked ‘private’. She dove for the phone, scooping it up awkwardly, and breathily barked into the receiver. “Isis Foundation!”
Hugging my purse to my chest, I waited. At least someone was here. I could get through this, right?
Her delicate white shoulders slumped impatiently and she slammed the receiver back into its unsuspecting cradle. Pinching her eyes shut, she held her fingers out as if she were trying to regain composure. When she opened them again, her face melted into a sweet smile toward me. “They hung up.”
I shrugged and looked down at my folded arms. I would wait for her. If she didn’t pursue, then I would go home and try to forget this torture.
She pursued. “I’m so sorry about that. My…” Her words broke off at the sound of another phone ringing in the office she just emerged from. She raised her arm toward me and waved her fingers for me to follow. “Please, come on in, I’ll be just a minute.”
Half-heartedly, I followed and stopped at the doorframe. There were two reasons I stopped. One, she was about to pick up the phone and it was none of my business to hear. And two, there was a man in the room waiting on her return. His arms were folded across his chest in an impatient gesture.
“A little help here?” She whined at him as she nearly fell across her chair to reach the handset. The shrill ring finally left us in peace as the man turned to look at me.
He didn’t speak, but he nodded politely at me and smiled gently almost like he was embarrassed by his friend.
The young lady continued to talk loudly with someone on the phone. She knew her caller, but seemed ready to bark at any given moment.
The man decided the quiet was too awkward between us and he turned, letting his arms hang down loosely. His brows lifted in apology as he spoke quietly, “Her receptionist didn’t show up today.”
His voice was much lighter than I expected. With his muscular build underneath that smooth dress shirt and tie, and his extra height, I would’ve thought he would speak much deeper, almost gruffly.
He was very handsome and didn’t feel threatening at all. I liked him immediately and tried to give him a pitiful smile to show it wasn’t his fault this young woman couldn’t help either of us.
Us. I wondered if he was… No, I shook my head. I wasn’t going to get into the meteor guessing games. I didn’t like thinking people could see through me, so I wouldn’t judge others.
His returning smile almost lit up the room with its beauty and he shrugged easily, “I know who she’s talking to, she’ll only be a moment.”
He was right. She hung up a second later with a harrumph and rolled her eyes at him, smiling. “Lois says you’re late.”
He let his head fall, knowingly, and smiled that smile again, the force of it making me wonder how she and I could still be standing. But she seemed unaffected as she rested her eyes on me again and shrugged lightheartedly. “I’m so sorry about that. Miss-?”
She stepped toward me graciously with her hand held up to shake mine. Cautiously, I moved toward her and shook her warm little grip. “Clark, and that’s okay.”
Both she and the good looking man stopped short, their faces popping up in shock at my response. Was my breath bad? “Excuse me? What was your name?” The lady’s hands were up and she waited for me to repeat myself.
“My name is Jessica Clark. Did I say something wrong?” I could run away now and maybe they’d forget I was here.
“I’m sorry.” The blond woman smiled, relieved. And then her face crumpled in amusement, “I’ve been saying that a lot today, haven’t I?”
It seemed like a rhetorical question, so I let it slide.
The man walked toward me now, his long legs carrying him swiftly across the space. “What she means to say is Hi,” he held his hand out to me, “My name is Clark, Clark Kent.”
I gaped at them and instantly the fog in my head cleared. “Oh,” I gasped lightly and shook the man’s big, warm hand. They both grinned sweetly, reminding me that maybe I didn’t need to run. Just yet.
“And I’m Chloe Sullivan.” Her arm swept the room and she gestured to a chair by the desk. “Is there something I can do for you, Miss Clark?”
I hesitated and held my purse painfully to my stomach. I didn’t come here to share with everyone. “Um,” I choked on my spit.
“Oh,” Mr. Kent’s smooth baritone voice broke the silence and he turned to go. “I, uh, I’m going to go relieve Lois.” He marched to the door and turned back to smile at me, “It was nice meeting you, Miss Clark.”
I nodded and let my eyes fall back to the carpet as he exited the room. When would this stupid fear leave me?
“He’s my best friend,” she gestured to the chair again and then proceeded to shut the office door. “He works at the Daily Planet with my cousin, Lois.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the sweat bead up on my neck. “He’s not a reporter, is he?”
She smiled with her brows folding in curiosity, “Yes, he is, why?”
That’s great. I could just see the headline now, METEOR FREAK LIVING IN METROPOLIS. Taking a deep breath, I refused to let my eyes fall to my lap again. “I uh, no reason.”
She let it slide and leaned forward on her elbows, asking, “So, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”
“Well, I looked up the Isis Foundation on the, um, the internet.” My mouth went dry.
“Do you know why we’re here?” She replied smoothly, trying her best to disarm my fears.
“To help the meteor infected.” I peaked up at her. “That’s correct, isn’t it?”
“Yes, in any way we can.” She let her gaze drift to the view out the window, her voice growing serious. “There are many people out there who don’t understand what is happening to them…” Her eyes seemed to grow moist.
“That’s why I’m here.” I whispered as bravely as I could. She looked at me with so much earnestness, so much sympathy, that I crumbled. I couldn’t ask what I needed to. Not just yet. “I’d like to h-help. If I can.”
“Oh,” she fell to the back of her chair. “Help?” She swallowed and glanced toward the closed door. She sat forward and asked brightly, “How are you at answering phones?”
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~To be continued~