"I'm the only one who can save you from yourself, Selena," Nigel said. "You
need
me, baby"
"Like Ann Landers needs advice, like Jabar needs high heels, like Matt Dillon needs eyelashes" Selena pointed. "
OUT!
"
"I'm warning you, Selena" Nigel backed toward the door. "You're being shortsighted." As a parting shot, definitely not great. Still . . . one did what one could under the circumstances. He stalked out, holding his shoulders stiff.
A big silence had taken hold of the room. The party-goers were disappointed that the fight was over. Like the audience at a tennis match, their eyes had swiveled between Nigel and Selena as the shots flew. Good point! Ad Nigel! But now the match was finished, the players had thrown down their rackets, and both had sulked off the court. Awwww . . . shucks! Party-poopers. Wet blankets.
In her room, Selena opened the Coffer of Shadow and gazed down at the glowing Power. Her face was bathed in a pale, baleful light. "There you are," she breathed, "nestled snugly" The dear little
it
, which was going to raise her to the heights. She touched the tips of her fingers to her lips. Kiss, kiss. How about a minor demonstration of your powers? For instance, clean up this room. . . . She waited. The room remained unchanged, the huge bed, as always, unmade; the heaps of clothes, as always, unhung; the curdles of dust, as always, unswept. Oh, well, she had bigger things in mind for
it
, anyway. When the time came, she'd have one maid for her clothes, one for her bed, and another to draw her bath
These happy thoughts took another turn as she looked more closely at the Power. Something different about it . . . What was it? Was it possible . . .could it be—growing? Involuntarily, she shuddered and slammed down the lid on the Coffer of Shadow.
A rabbit hopped through the underbrush, its nose twitching rapidly. Morning in the forest. From somewhere hidden, a bird trilled. Three long notes, one short.
Deeee, deeee, deeee, dee . . .
Sunlight dappled the leaves. A serene hush hung in the air. The rabbit's head turned this way, that way, but mostly she relied on her nose. There was something foreign in her country. She stopped, standing on her hind legs.
There
. She saw it. The intruder . . . what was it? Something large lying among the wildflowers . . . The rabbit's nose brought the news that it was human . . . that smell the rabbit detested . . . but, this time, not dangerous. The rabbit approached closer, still cautious.
Supergirl opened her eyes. "Hello! Good moming." The rabbit stood up again on her hind legs. Supergirl remained quiet. Maybe they could make friends . . .
A softball crashed through the trees. The rabbit was off and gone. A moment later, a girl wearing green sweats and a yellow bandanna came charging into the clearing after the ball. "Got it," she yelled and raced away, never noticing that she'd dropped her bandanna. Supergirl sprang to her feet and picked up the scarf.
MIDVALE SCHOOL
. A smile spread across Supergirl's face. She had just had a fabulous idea.
On the Midvale School campus, the softball game was still going on. Groans and cheers rose from the spectators, most of them Midvale School students wearing their usual uniform of shirt, blazer, and white knee socks. Hidden behind some bushes, Supergirl checked out the players, easily picking out the girl who had come running for the ball.
Kara turned back, parting the bushes, crouching to duck under a low branch, scuffling through the underbrush. By the time she emerged into the clearing again, she was no longer Supergirl, the glowing creature who flew through the skies and made grown men tremble. Instead, as she left the forest, anyone watching would have seen only another schoolgirl, barely distinguishable from her sisters. She was ordinary in every way. Her hair was an ordinary brown, she carried an ordinary knapsack over her shoulder and wore the same ordinary school uniform as the Midvale School girls who had watched the softball players crashing around the field. In, fact, the only thing different about this new Midvale School student was her name. Linda Lee had just been born.
Walking up the Midvale School drive, Linda Lee took careful note of everything around her for possible future use. The softball game was still going on, and the girl who had so energetically shagged the ball was now at bat. Linda Lee watched her with interest. Her teammates were yelling and cheering her on. "Way to go, Lucy Lane!"
Just past the playing field, a landscape crew, composed of two older men who slouched on their shovels, and one, extraordinarily handsome, young man, was working on the grounds. A van parked nearby informed the world this was
ETHAN'S MOTHER EARTH WEED & INSECT CONTROL SERVICE. WITH US, THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER. 225-8839.
Linda Lee turned to watch the girl at bat. Whomp! A clean hit. Cheers and huzzahs from her teammates. "Home run! Home run!" The ball sailed out of the park and landed at the feet of the very handsome young man. Grinning a very handsome grin, he threw the ball easily back to the pitcher, just as the girl slid home.
Linda Lee hitched her knapsack a trifle higher and walked on. Here I come, Midvale School. Ready or not! A private grin, then she reassumed the slightly frowning, faintly anxious expression she thought suitable for a new student.
In the administration building, Linda Lee walked up a long stairway. Two girls passed her going the other way. They were so peculiarly loathsome-looking, like a pair of squat warty toads, that, involuntarily, Linda Lee turned around for another look.
"Check it out, Muffy," one of the toads said loudly to the other toad, "another barfo new student. They're really scraping the bottom of the barrel these days."
Many things could Linda Lee have replied, but she kept her peace and climbed to the next floor. She stopped for a moment in front of the office of the Registrar, straightened her blouse, and entered. The Registrar, a Mr. Danvers, according to the gold-plated sign on his desk, sat with his hands steepled, pensively staring out the window.
"Hello," Linda Lee said, "I—"
"—didn't knock," Mr. Danvers finished for her, without turning. "Don't we teach you manners around here?" he said, never removing his touchingly wistful gaze from the window. "Don't we try to impress upon all our young
LADIES
that animals in the jungle
NEVER
knock, but Midvale girls
ALWAYS
do?" He swiveled around, at last, just in time to see Linda Lee leave the office. "Where are you
GOING?
Come back here!"
The door closed firmly. A moment later, there was a knock.
"Come in!"
Linda Lee entered. "Excuse me for before, I forgot that—I mean, I'm just not used to—"
"Wait a minute. Wait
ONE
second here." Mr. Danvers stood up, leaning on his desk. "Young lady. I have never before laid eyes upon you."
"No, sir. I'm new here."
"Well, who on earth are you?"
"On Earth, I'm Linda Lee," she said helpfully.
Looking pained by this reply, Mr. Danvers sat down again to regain his strength. Not another smart aleck girl, please, dear God! Wasn't he a good man? Didn't he do his job faithfully? Didn't he take in two scholarship students every year (no matter how much it hurt), simply out of the greatness of his heart? Didn't he already have a cross to bear in the form of that impossible Lucy Lane? "Well," he said, resigning himself to the inevitable. "Let's get on with it. Where's your letter of recommendation?"
"Letter?" Linda Lee stammered, wanting to kill herself for overlooking this little detail. "Letter?'' Saved by the door! It burst open, revealing a wild-eyed Nigel.
"I must talk to you, Registrar!"
"I'm busy," Mr. Danvers said, fiddling importantly with the pencils on his desk.
"So are they, Registrar. I mean,
them
! All the little monsters you admit to this place." Nigel glared at this reminder of the Registrar's incompetence. This school, his expression seemed to say, would be vastly improved without any of its students. "They've nailed my desk drawers shut. I want you to come and see thist Never before, in all my years as a teacher . . . Come, Danvers!"
Mr. Danver's eyes rolled heavenward in mute appeal. Was it too much to hope for a stray bolt of lightning to rid his life of the pesky Nigel? As no celestial help appeared, he rose like a man tried to his utmost and followed Nigel out the door. "I will not be provoked," he muttered. "I will not let him get to me . . . I will be strong . . . strong . . . strong like a rock . . ." The door closed behind him.
Instantly, Linda Lee went into action. At Super Speed, she snatched a piece of blank paper from Danver's desk, rolled it into the typewriter, banged out her letter of recommendation, ripped it out of the machine, pulled open the drawer in the file cabinet, and slammed the letter home under K. She had barely shut the drawer and taken her seat when Mr. Danvers returned.
"Hello, sir." Linda Lee's hands were primly folded in her lap.
Mr. Danvers stared at her. Dear God, why was she still here? Another student? Did he have to take her in? Why, oh, why, was this burden put on him? Hadn't he been tested enough already? He collapsed at his desk. "All right, all right, what did you say your name was? Yes, yes, Glenda Glee?"
"Linda Lee, sir. My cousin wrote you. I hope you got his letter."
"Name?"
Poor man. He'd forgotten already. "
LINDA LEE, SIR
."
"No, no, no,
NO
.
His
name. The cousin!"
"Kent. Maybe it's in your files under
K
."
"Kent? Kent?" He opened the file drawer. "Doesn't ring a bell . . ." He pulled out the letter she'd typed. "Hmmm. Here it is . . . now where . . .?"
"Thank goodness you got it," Linda Lee said with girlish enthusiasm. "I know how terrible the mails are, sometimes, and if you didn't get it, I don't know what I would have—"
"Yes, yes," Mr. Danvers said, waving his hand impatiently. "'My dear Mr. Danvers,'" he read, ':'I am writing to you on behalf . . . a very special young lady . . . an orphan . . .'" He frowned and looked at her over the sheet of paper. The old feel-sorry-for-me-because-I'm-an-orphan bit. "Don't expect any special treatment on that account, Miss Lee."
"I won't, sir."
"Because one day or another, one way or another, sure as the moon rises and the sun sets, we all lose our parents. Yes, Miss Lee, we're all alone on this miserable little planet."
Unexpectedly, a lump rose in Linda Lee's throat. "Yes, sir," she said, "I know . . ."
Linda Lee hurried to keep up with Mr. Danvers as he strode purposefully across the campus. "Since your school records were lost in the mail," he said, "you'll have to start out at the bottom. Only fair to the other girls. You'll take English, Latin, French, history, art, math, biology, and computing."
"All at once?" Linda Lee said, a trifle faintly.
"And chemistry." Mr. Danvers right-turned and marched into a dormitory, Linda Lee behind him. "Idle hands are the devil's playground."
Linda Lee nodded sadly, wondering if it was too soon to transfer to another school.
Mr. Danvers marched down the corridor. The two toads—er, girls—whom Linda Lee had met on the staircase, popped out of their room. "Man on the floor," one of them bellowed hoarsely. Up and down the corridor, doors slammed.
Mr. Danvers knocked on a closed door. "Open up, Lane. I know you're in there."
The door opened a crack and Lucy Lane peered out. "I'm not decent, Mr. Danvers, sir"
"And you never will be, you little liar." He pushed the door open. Still wearing her green sweats, Lucy folded her arms across her chest resignedly. "Come on, come on," Mr. Danvers said to Linda Lee. "Inside! I haven't got all year."
Under Lucy's curious, cool, stare Linda Lee fiddled with the straps of her knapsack and took quick peeks around the room. Two beds, one buried under a ton of junk, a big stereo on the floor, magazines and books heaped everywhere, and the walls covered with rock posters—plus, one large blowup of Superman.
That
she liked, and it made her feel at least a little bit more at home.
"Meet your new roommate, Lane," Mr. Danvers said.
"Oh, no," Lucy muttered. "Mr. Danvers, I'm supposed to have a single this term."
"Miss Lane, we don't always get what we want," Mr. Danvers said, thinking of his recent, deep disappointment in heaven's failure to zap Nigel. "Disappointment thickens our skin."
"Who wants thick skin?" Lucy said, popping her gum, but her heart just wasn't in this snappy repartee. Who was this new girl? There was nothing about her that Lucy Lane could grab on to. So . . . sort of, well . . .
ordinary
. Bumm-er! Just when she thought she had it all together, dandy old Danvers had to stick her with a roomie.
"I'm Linda Lee," Linda Lee said.
Lucy stopped popping her gum and took another look. There was something really neat about the way Linda Lee had introduced herself, sort of simple and unpretentious. Maybe she wouldn't be such a doofy roomie, after all.
"I'm Lucy Lane." She stuck out her hand and the two girls shook.
"Lucy Lee," Mr. Danvers said, feeling left out, "this is Linda Lane."
"Mr. Danvers," Lucy said, "She's Linda
Lee
, and I'm—"
"Lucy
Lane
," Linda Lee finished for her.
Mr. Danvers looked from one to the other. "You two know each other?"
"Sure!"
"For how long?"
"Oh, we've known each other for ages. Haven't we, Linda?"
Mr. Danvers narrowed his eyes in thought. Enlightenment came. "Ahh! Now I understand! The
Daily Planet
Of course! Linda Lee's cousin works there, and so does your sister, what's-'ername, the one who's always calling and pestering me."
"Lois," Lucy said distinctly. "Her name is Lois Lane, Mr. Danvers. Sir."
"Right, that's the one. Well." He opened the door. "Show our new Miss Lane around, Miss Glee." He was back again immediately to add, "She's an orphan, but don't let her play on your sympathies with
that
." And, finally, he was gone.