Read Online Miracle Monday by Elliot S. Maggin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elliot S. Maggin
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and Franklin Roosevelt, the thirty-second President of the United States, collected stamps.
Lex Luthor had a younger sister named Lena who was a toddler when Lex left home and who did not know she was related to the infamous criminal, but whose life and career Luthor followed.
Sherlock Holmes played the violin, as did Albert Einstein, who realized during his final years that he was in danger of dying before he formulated his Unified Field Theory and so banished his demon, in order to spend all his intellect chasing the tail of time and space.
Lois Lane wrote poetry and hid the pages in a corrugated cardboard file box whose inside she once lined with lead foiling.
Jimmy Olsen, unknown to any of his friends other than Clark Kent, took the name Marshall McShane to host a Sunday afternoon country music show on a college radio station called "Music You Can't Hear on the Radio."
Morgan Edge, the president of Galaxy Communications, ran six miles a day.
Kristin Wells, Lois Lane's two-day-a-week girl Friday, had a passion for expensive discos and for obscure volumes on recent history.
Steve Lombard, the former quarterback and current WGBS sports reporter, spent weekend afternoons, when millions of American men are watching football games, eating popcorn in front of old movies on television.
Jimmy Carter taught Sunday school.
Martha Kent collected antique bottles.
Lord Greystroke learned languages, human and otherwise.
Edward R. Murrow smoked cigarettes.
Superman had Clark Kent.
In fact, Superman loved Clark Kent as much as he loved anyone or anything else. He loved his alter ego as he loved the memory of the two good people who had taken him as their son; as he loved this adopted world that had accepted him as its hero; as he loved Lois Lane. Clark Kent was a person as real and individual as any man ever created by the mind of man. Superman even gave Clark a demon: Clark videotaped television commercials that particularly amused him, and showed them to friends who were polite enough to sit through them. Superman spent appreciably more time creating the reality of Clark Kent than he spent doing anything else. Clark Kent spent more time walking the Earth than Superman spent flying above it. Superman valued his creation as he valued a human life.
Right now, something was bothering Clark Kent and had been bothering him since he first saw Jimmy's film of Luthor's announcement, but Clark could not for all his reason figure out what it was. He sat in his tiny office running the film through an editing machine for the seventy-third time. He would have run it faster if not for the fact the film would have melted with friction. It was nearly five fifty-eight in the evening, two minutes before air time. He would have to memorize the entire film this time through, frame by frame, if he was going to allow himself the customary ninety seconds to type and edit the anchor script for his hour-long news show. He would spend most of those ninety seconds, of course, walking down the hall, at the speed of a normal, slightly clumsy Earth human, from his office to the news anchor desk in Studio B.
"Good evening, this is Clark Kent with the Six O'Clock WGBS Evening News," were the next words that he said, and slightly more than a million people heard him say that.
As it happened, slightly fewer than a million people saw the film of Luthor dropping the match that first fell and then spiraled to the ground. More than a hundred thousand of Clark's viewers, at that point in the show, were sniffing through the refrigerator, thumbing through the newspapers, sorting through the mail or whatever. Almost everyone whose television was turned on, however, heard Luthor declare his intention to escape. A few clucked their disapproval. A few wondered if Luthor had, as he claimed, discovered some new miraculous source of energy. Most of them dismissed the claim, not realizing that Luthor was not a dishonest public servant but rather, an honest criminal.
Lex Luthor had a younger sister named Lena who was a toddler when Lex left home and who did not know she was related to the infamous criminal, but whose life and career Luthor followed.
Sherlock Holmes played the violin, as did Albert Einstein, who realized during his final years that he was in danger of dying before he formulated his Unified Field Theory and so banished his demon, in order to spend all his intellect chasing the tail of time and space.
Lois Lane wrote poetry and hid the pages in a corrugated cardboard file box whose inside she once lined with lead foiling.
Jimmy Olsen, unknown to any of his friends other than Clark Kent, took the name Marshall McShane to host a Sunday afternoon country music show on a college radio station called "Music You Can't Hear on the Radio."
Morgan Edge, the president of Galaxy Communications, ran six miles a day.
Kristin Wells, Lois Lane's two-day-a-week girl Friday, had a passion for expensive discos and for obscure volumes on recent history.
Steve Lombard, the former quarterback and current WGBS sports reporter, spent weekend afternoons, when millions of American men are watching football games, eating popcorn in front of old movies on television.
Jimmy Carter taught Sunday school.
Martha Kent collected antique bottles.
Lord Greystroke learned languages, human and otherwise.
Edward R. Murrow smoked cigarettes.
Superman had Clark Kent.
In fact, Superman loved Clark Kent as much as he loved anyone or anything else. He loved his alter ego as he loved the memory of the two good people who had taken him as their son; as he loved this adopted world that had accepted him as its hero; as he loved Lois Lane. Clark Kent was a person as real and individual as any man ever created by the mind of man. Superman even gave Clark a demon: Clark videotaped television commercials that particularly amused him, and showed them to friends who were polite enough to sit through them. Superman spent appreciably more time creating the reality of Clark Kent than he spent doing anything else. Clark Kent spent more time walking the Earth than Superman spent flying above it. Superman valued his creation as he valued a human life.
Right now, something was bothering Clark Kent and had been bothering him since he first saw Jimmy's film of Luthor's announcement, but Clark could not for all his reason figure out what it was. He sat in his tiny office running the film through an editing machine for the seventy-third time. He would have run it faster if not for the fact the film would have melted with friction. It was nearly five fifty-eight in the evening, two minutes before air time. He would have to memorize the entire film this time through, frame by frame, if he was going to allow himself the customary ninety seconds to type and edit the anchor script for his hour-long news show. He would spend most of those ninety seconds, of course, walking down the hall, at the speed of a normal, slightly clumsy Earth human, from his office to the news anchor desk in Studio B.
"Good evening, this is Clark Kent with the Six O'Clock WGBS Evening News," were the next words that he said, and slightly more than a million people heard him say that.
As it happened, slightly fewer than a million people saw the film of Luthor dropping the match that first fell and then spiraled to the ground. More than a hundred thousand of Clark's viewers, at that point in the show, were sniffing through the refrigerator, thumbing through the newspapers, sorting through the mail or whatever. Almost everyone whose television was turned on, however, heard Luthor declare his intention to escape. A few clucked their disapproval. A few wondered if Luthor had, as he claimed, discovered some new miraculous source of energy. Most of them dismissed the claim, not realizing that Luthor was not a dishonest public servant but rather, an honest criminal.
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