Meanwhile, in Metropolis

The night we stopped at Super 8 welcoming us to Metropolis, I wanted to have a little fun, after I entered the lobby with Angela remaining warm enough outside. I thought, I’ll tell the clerk, Hello, I have a reservation. I’m Here to Destroy Superman. After all, there was a classic 40s Superman image on a lobby wall, which I caught in a selfie for Johann, who I’d not yet told we were going to see Superman’s Statue. There’s a more recent Superman comic hanging along the back of the front office area, too.

But I judged I would try to save my joke for him after we’d cleared up the matter of our reservation. Soon, there’d be a magic trick, as one of our luggage cases came in on the dolly, which I pushed from the lobby to the stairwell with her, and two more cats than the one I’d listed, Captain. Already, settling my own response to the rules.

Twist in plans, too. I ask for assurance of a place she could conduct her wi-fi classes. I’m sure I had the wrong one now, and this is why being tired can make you more wrong. I would figure out our room, 202, same as our eventual apartment number in SoBo, was accessible if I pulled around back, but of course, back there’s always the chance of a petty thief. Kane remarked the place seemed like it’d lately been more of an SRO, with regular residents. We had changed to this hotel booking, I thought, from another, because the clerk said there was something like a ‘business center’ or private-enough wi fi-supported cubicle. I remembered we'd switched from Motel 6 to this Super 8, because the promise of a place Teacher Angela BBA could conduct VIPKid classes.

For now, as we settled in, we assumed I’d have to sleep while she taught in the bathroom. I accidentally shut Lucky into the hotel door, while hanging out a stupid unnecessary Do Not Disturb sign, just to get rid of it. Poor, smuggled cat! I caught him about the shoulders and neck, where he wrenched free, hurt and angry, as I cease catching him from going out in the hallway.

I tried turning on CBS, but while I remember who James Corden interviewed, I was poopedas. I privately wished how we’d made it four hours earlier, so we could enjoy whoopie. Six minutes into one class with her in the bathroom was enough to get me awake to appeal to the dude at front desk, who obliged by saying she could come down to some particular first floor area. I got one Hulk comic read, and it might’ve been that night. She was downstairs teaching by 2:30 AM, and I would at least sleep ‘til 6:45 am, when I could not resist messaging with Dixie on and off for over an hour. Or was that the next morning?

Even relaxed, I was not deeply asleep, as the experience had required one quick, deep nap, some rest up through Angela’s first bathroom class (ever), and some nice sleep after my own 6:30 class passed. I stayed up, I think, making a FB post in our cozy little room and talking with her when she came back upstairs. She’d had quite an adventure- I remember she had to come back up for our Hot Spot because of a poor initial connection, based on the location she had down there. She taught, I think, five remaining classes off that hot spot, including the one she was losing. I was proud of her, just conscious of how it might be best to rest up til 10 AM so we could ready ourselves for the road, and still have time to see Superman

"Everybody's Flying, but no one leaves the ground."- John Lennon. I analyzed the situation and, by 9AM, scheduled us a stop in Abilene, then, revised that plan into a reservation in Salina, KS. That decision making wisely intuited Hayes would seem too far for genuine, responsible safe driving, so, she joined me in a well-earned nap that wrapped up our Super 8 rest, after affirming our passage of the point of no return.

Now, we're getting past that First Act, as the next morning, Here was the sort of place my imagination can still go back and play, and I'm sure some very good story could be written with this inspiration. Yet, what happened when we spent about fifteen, twenty minutes on what I think of as Superman Square- in a city of about 6,353 people, helpfully already named "Metropolis" in Illinois. The certainty of snow, freezing temperatures- I could not have asked for a more willing partner in going to dork around the inspiring five meter Superman statue, nor the energy built up by visitors since 1993, a year I think here, Superman got his deserved death mural, that turns out to be his so-far enduring shrine. You can buy bricks to fortify it, however, with your name engraved if you like. The Man of Steel requires a new coat of paint, eventually.

What made it for us was seeing the three other people stop and get out, first. We let them take their time getting photos around the statue and its walkways. I can't say if the man or two women were truly more thrilled to be there! I had not idea what a great time Marc Kane and I would have, impersonating America's original god-like hero with Superman figures, life-sized, flying along the side of the building that usually but not today houses the Superman Statue Museum.

Now doesn't that all feel like a place you could imagine in a good DC Comics characters story? When you imagine how fun it is for so many people, you thank the Goddess it's an OK place to have fun a few minutes without Covid.

I am hardly slowing down enough to explain it, when I could wring each step up to pose in some perspective with the giant figure for the words of the seconds, but I know one thing: we laughed how COLD it was! The wind was exactly the sort that brings winter snow. I could take a moment to describe the man to whom I handed five dollars. There was no time to even try to stop at the museum's temporary present location. We were checked out at 11:06 am, driving back out to the highway into town. We hadn't worried about time, having fun, with the joy of little kids, for at least fifteen minutes. I let that man walk over with me towards our car. I messed with my cash from my wallet over by my open passenger door. I came out with just the five, and no sir, I wasn't part of St. Andrews Church, though now I wonder if the brown coat I wear evoked that question? I don't know if he and his wife needed $22 for a room or not. Yet, when you think about it being true, it probably was. No, there's not a lot of tourists this time of year in downtown Metropolis, and it is cold enough for snow. Our own room might have been the sort he needed. I now wish I could've just stopped to send through a payment to the hotel of his choice when he asked me about the $22. There were a couple of good reasons not to stay and think longer about helping him solve his problems, when really, I just didn't want to give up my $50. We had plans when we got to Boulder.

I know we enjoyed some yummy, if slightly incorrect order, Hardee's. I couldn't help flirting quickly with the drive-through operator before hand. We didn't mind pulling over to the side, but yeah, too bad the next worker with purple hair didn't have it quite right. Didn't we get straight on the road, though?

Meanwhile, the road and getting that little bit of what I want made a satisfying combination. Now, if I wanted to create a fun comics or cartoon story, I'd have the ones stopping, on their way out to Kansas to commit some more interesting sort of act. Might be fun to have someone out there doing something with those gigantic windmills, like animating them. That's fun, putting a super criminal in a hotel alongside people like Dawn and I, with less security in what will come their way. They are hoping they can keep honest but with some interesting idea outside the law awaiting them.

Other than a note maybe about us having fast food as drivers getting away after a big heist- ah, now that might be more interesting yet. But. In the moment, my reality went like so: The next forty-five minutes would bring my challenge for Wednesday. I was living every moment on the razor's edge of the danger of the highway. You rely on yourself to not fail. You make time, you get there safely.

The first snow we'd seen together in over two years came as we pulled over for gas. Now we could at least use the pheromone spray to give T'Challa a calming towel, hanging over his flexible cat carrier, one of two across the down-turned back seats.

Just when you think it'll be interesting, it turns out to be fun driving the Illinois highways. We were on them longer than I knew it'd feel like.

She made some wonderful photos, though, and I made good time. I felt safe and focused. I felt I could fly our lives over these roads and be our Superman, even if it seemed too dangerous, brave or impossible to those concerned, looking on distantly.

Then she had to shed her pants.