Edgar Allan Poe In My Own Backyard: part three
EDGAR ALLAN POE IN MY OWN BACKYARD: chapter three
by Linda Seaton
With
newly shaven head and plucked brow, Lester sits behind Lex’s desk which is
covered with thousands of books, documents and agendas. Lester wears a sweater
that seems to be giving him nothing but grief. He scratches his chest and back
simultaneously.
“This thing is really itchy.”
Standing in front
of the desk, Lionel closes his eyes.
“Cashmere is not ‘itchy’. It is a
luxury item and luxury items are not ‘itchy’.”
“So, I used to wear this
all the time before I was me?”
Lionel tries to process the sentence and
merely nods.
“I always thought he looked like a pansy. But you gotta
have staying power to wear this all the time.”
“Lex....”
“That’s
me, I remember.”
“Lex, I have to go to a board meeting in Metropolis. I
hate to leave you but I think I’ve given you enough materials to occupy you
until I get back this evening. If you need anything ask the butler or his
wife.”
“Got it.”
“You should try to read through the general
information about LuthorCorp. first and then move on to the
books.”
Lester picks up a copy of THE ILIAD and flips through the pages.
He smiles happily when he finds a drawing of Achilles charging Hector. “Cool,
fighting. I like to fight.”
Lionel merely shakes his head and sweeps from
the room. “I’ll be back by seven, Lex.”
“Alright Dad!”
Lionel
rushes out of the house and almost dives into his waiting car. The driver speeds
off down the drive.
- - - - - - - - - -
Just then, Pete and Faux
Pete arrive at the gate of the Luthor estate.
“We should just go home.”
Pete starts to turn away just as the gate begins to open. Faux Pete drags his
companion into the bushes and they watch as Lionel’s car flashes
past.
Faux Pete runs through the rapidly closing gate and Pete
pursues.
“It’s not very hard to get into this place.”
“We’re not
in the house yet.” Pete mutters and then cannot believe he just said what he
said.
“See, you’re having fun!”
Pete sags a little as he and his
twin creep along edge of the guesthouse.
Faux Pete glances inside and
spots a platinum blonde in a French maid's uniform reading through a sheathe of
papers all stamped "Top Secret". He points. “The maid. I think we just found our
way into the house.”
“I think we could just probably walk in.” Pete
sighs.
He trails after Faux Pete as he opens the door to the guesthouse.
He whispers, “What are you going to do?”
Just then the butler slams the
door of the main house and hurries toward the servant’s quarters. The two Petes
dive inside just as the butler tears into the house. The duo crouch behind a
large umbrella stand full of peacock feathers as the butler calls to the maid.
"Something weirder than usual is happening in the main house!"
The maid
rushes into the room. She tosses aside her blonde wig and embraces the man. "I
know, but look. I have the plans." The man takes them from her. "After six
months of trying to steal them from Luthor Jr. that idiot just handed them to me
and said 'put these somewhere, will ya'.
The butler grins. "Then we're
out of here!"
The jubilant pair race from the house. The two Petes ease
out into the center of the room.
"Perfect!" Faux Pete
celebrates.
"What?"
"We're going to pose as the happily married
butler and maid to infiltrate the Luthor estate and kill Lex. We just have to
find their uniforms." Faux Pete scoops up the discarded blonde wig and fixes it
on his head. "I get to be the maid."
Pete shrugs. "Fine by me."
-
- - - - - - - - -
A world away att Smallville High, Clark and Lana reach
her locker in the deserted school hallway.
She smiles a little blankly at
the lock. “I don’t know the combination.”
“Let me.” Clark steps in,
blocks Lana’s view and superspeeds through every numerical combination. The lock
falls to the floor. Lana stoops to get it as Clark pulls open the locker door.
Lana straightens and the top of her head connects with the locker. She falls to
the floor.
“Lana!”
She rolls over and kind of looks up at him.
“Clark, I can’t see!”
“Oh, shoot.”
"Let's go back to the
hospital." Clark grabs Lana's bag out of the locker and then gently lifts her
into his arms. With her head nestled against his neck, Lana sighs.
- - -
- - - - - - -
Trapped in a remarkkably similar position, Lex drives with
Chloe’s head resting on his right shoulder and her hand clasped around his
wrist.
“This can’t be very comfortable for you.” Chloe lifts her head.
“It would have been a lot easier if you just let me drive."
He glances
down at her. “This will teach you to try to be heroic.”
“Oh, I’m fine.
Your shoulder’s fairly comfortable.” She wiggles a little so she can look out
the window. “Where are we going by the way?”
“A
locksmith.”
“Hello, Mr. Locksmith, you might recognize me, I’m Lex Luthor
and I have this underaged girl handcuffed to me. Can you help?”
Lex
reaches down and brushes her thigh as he shifts the gears of the car.
Chloe starts back. “Hey, watch the hands.”
Lex ignores her as he
spins the steering wheel. Chloe slides and struggles to hold her
position.
“Where to now?”
“The Kent farm.”
“Clark went over
to Pete’s after school. So, it’ll be ‘Hello, Mr. Kent could you help me get your
son’s one time pseudo-girlfriend off my wrist?’ ”
Lex slouches down a
little. “The locksmith is likely to have me arrested and Jonathan Kent is likely
to kill me.”
“With his bare hands.”
Lex pulls off the road and
angrily jerks both hands off the wheel. He yanks Chloe’s arm across his stomach;
the bridge of her nose and cheek connects with his jaw.
She pulls back as
her eyes well with tears.
“I’m sorry. Are you hurt?”
She rubs her
nose and stares at him. “No.”
“Chloe Sullivan reduced to a single
syllable. You must be hurt.” He tilts her face up and examines the angry red
streak across her nose and the bruise already forming under her left eye.
“Wonderful. I’ve managed to give you a black eye.”
Chloe chokes down a
giggle. He glares at her.
“No, officer, I’m fine. No, he didn’t hit me.
The handcuffs, well it’s a long story.”
“Where did you get
handcuffs?”
“Why were you trying to kill yourself?”
“You first.”
They say it together.
Chloe relents, “Do you remember me being kidnapped
by crazy deputy and being buried alive? They’re his cuffs. I wanted a souvenir
and they wouldn’t let me have his gun.”
“That’s a shame.” He puts the car
in gear and they’re once again rolling. “About the gun.” He shifts. “And you
expect me to have forgotten the fact that you were buried alive? Edgar Allan Poe
in my own backyard.”
“Many, many horrible things happen in this town.
It’s hard to remember them all.” Chloe repositions herself so her bad eye is
more clearly in Lex’s line of vision. “So, what horrible thing put you on the
side of that bridge?”
“Did you ever wish you had never been
born?”
“It’s only Monday. Ask again on Wednesday.”
“This isn’t at
all funny. You know that my father acquired the Smallville bank? When he did, he
managed to get his hands on some sort of land grant. It turns out he now owns
this entire town. Unless I follow him back to Metropolis he’s going to wipe this
place off the map.”
“So, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re doing the
noble thing. That killing yourself will save the town. That’s ridiculous. If you
had died the first time you went off the bridge then things would have been
different. But now you’ve worked your way into the lives of the people here. Do
you really think your father would just forget that?”
Lex tries to pull
away from her but only tugs the cuffed Chloe closer as she
continues.
“He’d gladly destroy Smallville and personally doze through
the Kent’s on his way out of town. Smallville is Carthage, you father is Rome
and he’ll have no problems coming up with the sodium chloride.”
“That
might be the strangest reference I’ve ever heard made to Romans salting the
earth in the Third Punic War.”
“How often do people refer to the Third
Punic War in your world?”
“Not nearly often enough.”
“And this
book?”
“It was at the Savings and Loan, but my father has probably
already had it moved.”
“But he couldn’t have. The book is only valid as
long as it stays in the bank - it’s the same bank location-wise that has been
there for a hundred and fifty years. And it’s a condition of any of those land
grant laws that the book has to stay in the bank.”
“How do you know
that?”
“I don’t know. I needed the information and it was just
there.”
“So, all we have to do is rob the bank and steal the
book?”
Chloe smiles. “Better than suicide.”
“It’s probably going
to be easier than suicide. Hold on.”
He floors the accelerator. Out of
the corner of his eye he sees a blur of blue and swerves out of the way just in
time to miss the oncoming Kent truck.
- - - - - - - - - -
Clark
brakes hard and the truck slides to a stop. He looks off in the direction of the
disappearing sportscar.
The newly blinded Lana whimpers. "What just
happened."
"It was nothing. Almost just another fender bender. Nothing
serious. They happen all the time."
"Really? Why do people live in this
town?"
"Sometimes I wonder that myself."
Clark steers the truck in
the direction of the hospital.
- - - - - - - - - -
Across town,
Lester sits at Lex’s desk going through a folder labeled “Smallville.” There are
a series of photos that he keeps flipping through as he says the name of the
person photographed. “Clark Kent. He saved my life.” Lester turns the photo over
and reads the stuff on the back. He nods and moves on.
“Lana Lang.
Business partner in the Claw coffee shop.” He checks the back. “Talon. I like
Claw better.” He lifts a hand and tries to make it claw-like.
He looks
at the next photo and smiles almost dreamily. “Chloe Sullivan. Reporter.
Blonde.” The photo of Chloe has a large heart drawn around her. Lester
sighs.
He picks up the mini-tape recorder on the desk and clears his
voice. He presses play. “Marry Chloe Sullivan.” He switches off the recorder and
then turns it on again. “Ask her to dinner first.”
Pete, dressed in tie
and tails, and Faux Pete, clad in a very short French Maid uniform, watch Lester
from the doorway.
"There's our target." Faux Pete motions toward
Lester.
Pete squints at the large man who seems to wearing a Lex Luthor
costume. "That's not Lex. That's just someone who kind of looks like
Lex."
Faux Pete rolls his eyes. "Nice try. I know I'm a newborn but
you're not going to confuse me that easily. We are in Lex Luthor's house. We are
at Lex Luthor's office. There is a bald, cashmere-wearing guy at Lex Luthor's
desk. Who else is it going to be?"
Before Pete can argue there comes the
sharp tap of footsteps. They scurry off as a woman sashays toward the
office.
“Lex!”
Lester looks up from Chloe's photo to greet a
particularly sleek young woman in a floor length fur coat, fur hat and a leather
dress.
He pulls his sweater’s collar away from his neck and inspects all
her fur. “Aren’t you hot?”
“Ow sweet of you to nawteece.” Magdalina
Draganov shimmies over to the desk and leans across. She strokes the top of
Lester’s head. “I vas afraid you had forgotten your old friend
Magdalina.”
They both stare at each other a beat - both realizing they
haven’t a clue who the other is.
“Why are you here?”
“Alvays to
the point, Lex. I so much admire that quality.” She sidles over and perches on
the edge of the desk. “I ave heard that your bather has begun construction on a
secret project in my homeland of Bulgaria.”
“Bather?”
“Bather.
Your bather Vionel. You must velp me stop him, Lex.” She seizes his hand and
begins to kiss it passionately. Lester shifts uncomfortably and saves Chloe’s
photo from being mashed. He uncovers a folder labeled “BULGARIA - TOP SECRET”
from the pile.
“Why don’t you just take this.” Lester hands the folder to
Magdalina who blinks at him a little surprised.
“Is this some kind of
twick?”
Lester’s brow furrows. “I don’t think so.” He spots Pete peeking
through the door. “Hey, butler guy, show Ms. Margarine here out, will
ya?”
Pete cautiously approaches and leads the happy Bulgarian out of the
office. He looks back over his shoulder at Lester.
Lester catches him
looking. “Could you get me some magazines. With girls in them. Not necessarily
naked girls.”
Pete nods and hurries out realizing that Lex Luthor might
also be having a really strange a day. Pete finds the idea disturbing and a
little thrilling.
- - - - - - - - - -
Less than thrilled with the
current circumstance, Lex hovers beside Chloe in an alleyway across the street
from the bank.
She checks her watch, 5:15.
“Okay, the only one
left is Mr. Coburn. There he is pulling down the blind. This is our chance. He’s
going to go into the back to turn out the lights. We have 45 seconds to get
across the street and inside.”
“You’ve staked out this bank, before?” Lex
asks against his better judgement.
She ignores him as she scopes out the
pretty much deserted street.
“C’mon!” She tugs him along behind her as
they cut across the street.
They reach the bank.
Lex opens the
door and they slide inside and dive behind one of the teller’s counters as Mr.
Coburn returns from the back.
The man switches off the lights, triggers
the alarm and moves to the door. He surveys the bank, smiles and locks the door
behind him as he leaves.
Lex and Chloe cautiously poke their heads
up.
“Yes, we’re in!” Chloe whispers. “The book is probably in the vault.”
She attempts to drag Lex toward the back but he holds his ground. Her feet slide
out from under her and he catches her to keep her from falling face first to the
ground. Regaining her balance, she turns to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t
know why it surprises me that my guardian angel has a larcenous
heart.”
“Me, a guardian angel? You mean like the suicide-preventing
Clarence in IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE? Please. And I think this whole thing is far
more felonious than larcenous.”
She tugs him along behind
her.
“Are you always like this, Chloe?”
“Like what?”
They
ease down a narrow hallway leading toward the vault.
“Someone sets a task
in front of you and you just do whatever it takes?”
“Yes,” she replies as
if it were the most obvious of observations.
“Any designs on world
domination?”
Before she can answer they reach the vault which oddly
enough is ajar. Just then, Chloe and Lex hear the entry door of the bank open
and then the sound of footsteps.
They hustle into the vault just as the
muttering Mr. Coburn returns.
“I did forget to close it...” Mr. Coburn
shoves the vault closed and hurries back out.
Inside the vault, Lex and
Chloe exchange somewhat worried looks.
Lex whispers, “I can hardly wait
until tomorrow morning when they find me manacled to a schoolgirl inside the
vault of a bank.”
Chloe scans the inky interior of the vault. “Let’s find
the book.”
“Chloe? We’re locked in the vault.”
“Even if we’re
trapped in here we can still shred that book into confetti.”
“I think my
father would hire a team to have it reconstructed.”
“Not if we eat most
of the pieces.”
Lex gives in and follows Chloe as she searches for the
book. Unearthing a leather book tied together with rawhide, Chloe cautiously
opens it and lifts her keys above the pages. She flips on her penlight. She and
Lex peruse the land grant book.
“We’ll we’ve got it.” Lex, not designed
to be locked in a vault, paces around Chloe like a dog on a very short handcuff
leash. She holds the book against her stomach and shines the penlight at her
companion as he comes and goes. He demands, “So, what do you know that could get
us out of this?”
“Did you know it is a state law in Kansas that vaults
have to have an inner release? That was instituted after all those people in
Bakersfield suffocated to death in 1977 during that freak bank robbery and
blizzard.”
He just looks at her for a long moment.
“What?” She
asks a little worriedly.
“Nothing.”
He hurries over to the vault
with Chloe trailing behind. She shines her tiny light on the vault as he runs
his free hand over the surface of the metal. Finding a slight indentation and a
handle of sorts, he pulls and the vault wheezes open.
He and Chloe rush
out of the vault as she turns off her penlight.
- - - - - - - - -
-
At the Smallville hospital the emergency room doctor flashes a light in
front of Lana’s eyes. “She doesn’t seem to have a concussion. My best guess is
that she has a pinched a nerve. She should be fine. Just take her home and let
her rest. And if she can’t see by tomorrow morning bring her back
in.”
Clark just stares at the doctor. “She has amnesia and she can’t see!
What has to be wrong with you before you get to stay in the
hospital?”
The doctor shrugs and moves off.
“Clark, did that
doctor just ‘guess’ about what is wrong with me?”
“I’m going to take you
to my home. My mom or dad will know what to do?”
He gently leads Lana out
of the emergency room for the second time that day. Clark sighs as he tries to
shake the feeling that everyone’s day would have been better if he had just gone
to the bridge with Chloe. Or better yet, stayed home like Pete.
- - - - -
- - - - -
Pete Ross sits at a tabble in the servants’ quarters polishing
silverware. He is so distracted by the thousands of pieces of silver in front of
him he fails to notice Faux Pete slipping out one of the doorways.
Pete
asks, "You think you can help?" When there is no answer he searches the room and
realizes Faux Pete is most likely up to something murderous. Pete pursues the
assassin.
In the main house, Faux Pete procures a particularly heavy
candlestick and heads toward Lex's office. He slips under the curtain that
covers one of the windows and makes his way toward the oblivious
Lester.
With his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth, Lester
finishes cutting out Chloe’s head from the photo. He carefully places Chloe’s
face on the page of the magazine in front of him. The cutout is probably five
times too large for the body of the bride with her bouquet.
Lester scowls
at the groom’s face and digs in his pocket. He produces his driver’s license and
lines up the mug shot photo of himself with the groom’s body. The giant-headed
Chloe regards the tiny-skulled Lester with loving
eyes.
“Perfect.”
Lester sits back to admire the image.
Faux
Pete creeps out from under the curtain and charges up behind Lester with the
candlestick raised. Pete slides into the room, dives forward and tackles his
twin.
The two thrash around on the floor and Lester watches them with
more curiosity than concern.
Pete shoves Faux Pete back. The wig goes
flying and lands just at Lester’s feet. Picking up the wig, Lester regards the
two brawling Petes. He lurches forward, grabs them both by the back of their
shirts, plops them back on the floor and shakes the wig at them.
“This
just won’t do. In ancient Greece, twins were, twins were...”
He races
over to his desk and ruffles through a series of books. He reads, “ ‘The ancient
Greeks considered twins to be unlucky. Often times the weaker of the two twins
was abandoned on a mountainside and allowed to die of exposure.’ ”
Lester
closes the book. “Well, I just don’t have time enough to expose one of you for
long enough to kill you, so...” He flips through another book. “Oh, here’s
something that sounds fun that the Romans used to do. You two are going to fight
to the death for my amusement.”
Faux Pete crosses his arms. “I don’t
think so.”
Lester pulls a .45 out from under the books and points it at
the two Petes.
“Oh, man.” Both Petes mutter.
"Go get weapons off
the wall." Lester orders and the two resigned young men obey.
After some
testing, the two Petes face each other with three feet long swords and heavy
shields. The weight bears down on both of them and they keep shifting from side
to side.
Lester stands back and admires the scene.
“Okay, on the
count of three. 1, 2, 3, go.”
The Petes exchange a look and Faux Pete
swipes at his twin with the sword. The metal connects with the shield and
there’s a flash of sparks.
“Yes!” Lester motions for them to
continue.
Really slowly, the two Petes parry, thrust, duck and turn. They
both flounder back and take a breath before resuming the battle.
“What’s
the incentive for one of us to win?” Faux Pete asks as he ducks under Pete’s
sword.
“Nothing really. Whichever of you wins I plan on hunting for
sport.”
Both Petes stop fighting. “What?”
“Setting you loose on
the grounds and then hunting you.” Lester replies as if they are
idiots.
“Is that also Greek or Roman history?” Pete asks.
“No,
from a late night movie I saw as a kid. It was very exciting. It’s a shame one
of you isn’t a girl. It’d be more like the movie.” He considers the wig on the
desk. “Stop fighting.”
The two Petes obey.
“Put this on.” Lester
tosses the wig to Pete who socks the mop on his head. He surveys the two young
men. “Give the wig to the other one.”
Pete hands off the wig to Faux Pete
who dons it.
“Much better.” Lester smiles. “I’ll just hunt you both. Take
off your clothes.”
