Why the zoo,
Roselle? Well, let's see...
***
FIFTEEN
No sooner had the words tumbled out of Lois’s mouth than Clark had them repeated.
“Metropolis Zoo?” He peered through the lenses of his glasses at her with a look of mild confusion painted on his face. “Is the executive board for the transit workers union meeting at the zoo these days?”
Lois chuckled. “No, but Jason’s summer day camp is…I thought we could swing by and get him when his field trip ends…at two, if I remember the time on the permission form correctly. It’ll save me a trip to his school later, and then he can play in the office while we work.” God knew Jason was used to visits to the
Daily Planet; he’d been spending all sorts of time there since before he could toddle.
Clark nodded as the cab merged into the stream of cars. He gave Lois a peculiar look; an expression that was half-smile and half…she wasn’t sure what.
Then it struck her. They weren’t going to pick
her child up from the zoo. They were going to pick
their child up from the zoo. Did he look queasy? Surely Clark didn’t get queasy. But, she realized, this was a first for him. The first time he’d get to pick his son up from an event as simple as a trip to the zoo. An event of any kind, actually. She grabbed his hand and slid a bit closer to him on the seat. She didn’t care if the cabbie saw.
“Are
you OK?” she asked, feeling as though the tables had turned on them since their morning cab ride together.
Clark nodded again. He definitely looked queasy. She squeezed his hand.
“He’ll be glad to see you,” she said. “He likes being with you.”
Clark managed a weak smile.
How could she convince him that his presence
wasn’t intrusive? That it
was wanted?
“Hey, we’ll have some time before the kids are finished with their tour…we could walk around, look at the exhibits, maybe get an ice cream…”
Clark’s smile strengthened.
Their cab breezed along through the busy streets of the city, their driver skillfully navigating through traffic and around pedestrians alike. They crossed the bridge and looked at the sunlight glinting off of the waters of the river as it peeked through the clouds up above. Lois kept hold of Clark’s hand the whole time, keeping him anchored, letting him know without speaking that he was no intruder on this trip.
When they arrived in the parking lot, the cabbie drove past a large placard that read:
Welcome to the Metropolis Zoo, the world’s greatest zoo! Lois could see – past the sea of cars, SUVs, and mini-vans – several rows of parked tour buses and school buses. She recognized the green-and-white one bearing the name of Jason’s school on its large side-panel.
At the admission gate, the man behind the window looked at the press passes they still wore from the courthouse and asked if there was something happening inside that he didn’t know about. Lois assured him there wasn’t, so he requested twenty-four dollars, admission for two. Clark reached for his wallet, but Lois tried to stop him.
“You took care of the cab fare!” she argued.
He pulled out three ten-dollar bills and handed them to the man. “And you can get the ice cream,” he said with a grin. He pocketed his change and walked with Lois through the gates.
“You know,” he said. “I’ve never paid to get in here before.”
Lois raised an eyebrow. Two children ran past them, young boys, both with orange-and-black painted faces, like a pair of tiger cubs. Their laughter filled the air as they went by. “Free admission with a cape?” she whispered.
Clark grinned again. “Works better than a press pass,” he said.
Lois enjoyed seeing him smile. He’d relaxed a bit since they’d exited the cab and entered the zoo, as had she, since leaving the courthouse.
She searched for her cell phone in her bag, and informed Clark that she was going to contact Mrs. Murphy, to let the woman know what her plans for Jason were. Mrs. Murphy carried a phone at all times, whether at the school, or on the various trips she took with her students, making it easy for parents to get in touch with her when needed.
“…yes, of course,” said Lois. “By the east gate? Sounds great…that’s where we came in…see you then. ‘Bye.” She tossed the phone back in her bag and turned to Clark. “All set,” she informed him, and they began to stroll.
Just outside of an exhibit with a sign marked “Birds of Prey,” Lois spotted an ice cream vendor’s stall.
“So, what’ll it be? Chocolate? Vanilla?”
“
Before lunch?” Clark said, feigning disapproval. “Ms. Lane…we really shouldn’t.”
He sounded just like…
Well, then, Lois thought. She smirked at him and said, “Yes,
before lunch.”
They stood behind the two tiger cubs and their parents. The cub wearing a Monarchs baseball cap was begging for two scoops of chocolate chip cookie dough. His younger brother called out, “Superman! Superman!”
Lois practically felt Clark go rigid at her side.
“One scoop or two?” the vendor asked the little cub’s father.
When Lois heard the boy’s father reply that one would be fine, she noticed on the menu of flavors that “Superman” was positioned between “Strawberry Cheesecake” and “Vanilla.”
Three great ice cream flavors swirled together into one super snack: Strawberry, Banana and Blue Moon!
Clark was visibly cringing. “
What is Blue Moon?” he asked dolefully.
Lois peered at the menu again, suppressed a fit of laughter as she did, then said, “It says here it’s blue vanilla ice cream with oranges and pineapples.”
Clark made a face and shook his head slowly.
“What’ll it be for you, folks?” the vendor asked them as the tiger family walked away.
“For me?” Lois said. “Oh, I think I’ll most definitely have Superman. Two scoops, please!” She was smiling from ear to ear.
“And for you, sir?”
“Vanilla,” Clark muttered.
Lois paid the vendor and they walked to a bench outside of the bird exhibit. She took a spoonful of the ice cream into her mouth and let it melt on her tongue. “Hmm, not bad,” she said. “Not as good as the real thing, though.” She nudged him gently with her elbow. She watched as a smile wrenched the corners of his mouth, despite his apparent attempt at trying to keep up his sullen expression.
They finished eating in affable silence, watching as they did, families of all sizes and varieties ambling past their park bench. Dads with children perched on their shoulders, moms pushing toddlers in strollers, grandparents trying hard to keep up with younger, sprightlier grandkids. Lois recalled the numerous times she and Richard took Jason here, when Jason was younger. She also thought of Clark, who’d never been to the zoo in any normal capacity. Appearances as Superman, certainly; to dedicate new exhibits or to show up suddenly to avert danger? Yes. But as a zoo patron? No. Clark Kent had never before walked through the gates or paid for a ticket or enjoyed an ice cream here. He’d never held his child high on his shoulders and pointed to the animals in the African Plains exhibit to ask,
“What do you think of those lions, son?”
She took the last bite of ice cream and looked at him. She saw it there, buried not-so deeply in his beautiful blue eyes.
Longing.
***
They wandered past exhibits of cold-blooded reptiles, multi-feathered birds, and sharp-toothed predators before coming to a large building boasting a plethora of nocturnal beasts.
“Boa constrictors, glow-in-the-dark scorpions…bats,” said Clark, reading from a list of species posted on a sign just outside of the building. “Are you up for that?”
“Do we have time?”
Clark glanced at his watch and nodded.
“Then, I’m up for it.” The building was surely air-conditioned, and the weather outside was balmy, despite the cloud cover that had been hanging around since they’d gotten there. Jason’s breakfast had been right about the weather.
They entered the building and Lois blinked her eyes as they adjusted from the light outside to the darkness inside. The cool, dark environment was a sharp contrast to what it had been like just on the other side of the doors. As they looked through glass-enclosed displays of naked mole-rats (“Good God! A face only a mother could love!”) and flying foxes (“It looks like a dog…with wings!”), Lois found that – by the time they’d gotten to the leopard cat display – she and Clark were comfortably walking along hand-in-hand. The walkway through the exhibit curved around like a large horseshoe, and Lois could see the gleam of the exit sign just beyond the boa constrictor’s huge glass display window.
She slowed down.
“This has been nice,” she said, realizing that soon they wouldn’t be strolling along together, her hand in his, any longer. Soon they’d be meeting Mrs. Murphy at the east gate, and they’d have to be “Lane and Kent, reporters” instead of “Lois and Clark, lovers.” Jason would be there, and he’d greet her with a
“Hi, Mom!” and a hug (if she was lucky), and he’d greet Clark enthusiastically, too, but there’d be no
“Hi, Dad!” and it’d break Clark’s heart.
God, but one day, she thought desperately. She felt the longing, too.
She stepped aside so a mother and her twin daughters could shuffle by towards the exit. Clark stepped aside with her. When they had passed, Lois stood as tall as she could – high-heels and tip-toes doing their best to try to help her reach him – and softly pressed her lips to his in the darkness.
As they stepped back out into the light, she wondered when “one day” would come, and hoped it would be soon.
***
A throng of children gathered around Metropolis Zoo’s east gate, and just as Lois spotted Jason’s head bobbing amongst his classmates, a light drizzle began to fall.
“Just in the nick of time!” Lois said. Jason jogged over to her side through the falling mist.
“Hi, Mom!” he told her, as predicted.
He tolerated a quick squeeze from her, then turned to Clark and beamed a smile. “Hi, Clark!”
“Hi, Jason,” Clark replied. His voice sounded steady, but his body told a different story. She could see it in the way he stood, the way his hands were balled into tight fists, the way a muscle twitched in his jaw…he wanted to bend down and hug his son, too, just as Lois had done.
“Would you be miserable if I made you come back to work with us?” Lois asked Jason.
Jason looked from Lois to Clark and then to Lois again. He shook his head. “Nope.”
“We’re off, then,” Lois called to Mrs. Murphy, who nodded back her approval. They exited the gates and spotted one of the express buses that ran zoo-goers back downtown rounding the corner into the parking lot. As the rain began to fall heavier, the three of them stood there getting soaked.
“So much for the nick of time!” Lois shouted, holding her bag over Jason’s head to shield him from the rain, without much success.
Clark removed his jacket and held it above Lois and Jason like a canopy. Jason shook the rainwater from his hair and looked up, Lois noticed, with an impish grin on his face.
The bus rounded the final bend and pulled to the curb. Clark lowered his jacket as Lois clutched Jason’s hand and began to make a run for it. She felt resistance –quite a bit, actually – as she tried to tug Jason forward.
Jason wasn’t budging as he waited, arm outstretched, for Clark to grab hold of his free hand. When Clark finally did, the three of them dashed – hand-in-hand-in-hand – across the wet pavement to the bus.
TBC
Author’s Note: Superman ice cream is not my invention. I nabbed the flavor from Hershey’s brand ice cream. Also, I used the website for the Bronx Zoo as a reference for exhibits and such in this chapter. I needed an actual metropolitan zoo to refer to, and what better one than the actual “world’s greatest zoo?”
I loved it when Lois learned that Clark was Superman. 
And I agree about the flying together part. I think that would be so romantic. But then she had to forget everything again. 
: Oh well. I'll wait to see what happens.
I'm beginning to think that maybe too much sunblock is indeed the cause of Jason's problems. After all, our yellow sun gave Superman his powers. Jason probably needs the sun, even if it gives him unwelcome powers. After all, throwing a piano over a yacht isn't exactly normal. But then neither is calling for Clark and him running into the ladies' room! 