Hi Endelda!
“Making some lunch for us, Mama!” He gave her a gappy grin and turned back to his ‘sandwich-making’.
To be fair, that kitchen looks better than some of the buildings after he’s ‘rescued’ the inhabitants.
CLARK: But…but…*gas explsions* /whines/
His small frame stiffened with obstinate stubbornness. “Don’t want a bath, baths are for bedtime and I’m not sleepy!”
/shrugs/ Fine. Garden hose it is…
Clark had woken up in one of his rare bad moods that morning, after having been told the night before that he’d be staying home ‘sick’ for a few days.
Power adjustment?
but when they’d noticed last year that Clark literally never got sick they’d realized
Oh, right. Having to do like the indigenous population does so the sleepers can properly blend in.
Clark hadn’t liked it when they’d started putting bandaids on him from time to time and telling him that he needed to tell people about ‘owies’ that he didn’t have,
Boy, is he going to be cranky when he has to wear a cast for 6 weeks.
They had tried to frame it as a treat, a few days of sanctioned hooky, but Clark absolutely loved going to school and wasn’t making things easy for them.
“Too bad,” she said flatly, “you’re not going back to school until Monday and that’s that.” He drew in a breath to protest. “I said, that’s that. Do you understand me, young man?”
They could take him to a museum in Wichita. Maybe see the largest corncob in Kansas and the history of corn in Kansas and that kind of thing.
I suggest you find something to do that interests you.”
How about digging in one of Wayne Irigs’s fields?
Having to remember what to lie about, and when, and who to lie to was complicated and awful…
Maybe they should start teaching him how to lie convincingly. With the right education he could become rich, like in the second-richest person alive rich by the time he’s twenty-seven. He could buy a plot in Metropolis and build a skyscraper, maybe call it Kent-Tower.
Did he have other relatives that he might meet someday?
Like…let’s say…a wife?
Jonathan nodded. “It was just big enough for a baby, and you’d better believe your mother and I were sure surprised when we found one inside it!”
Wouldn’t it be funny if that wasn’t actually a Kryptonian in there but a Marsian and they’ve all put up this front that everything is normal and no one’s mentioned that Clark looks…well…green.
Clark scooted close against his father’s side and looked at the book. “Gray’s an… anat… ana-tomy.”
“But… but it barely stung!” Clark objected. “How could that kill anybody?”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it that it can, son.”
Some years later…
SUPERMAN: Lex, my Dad once told me that falling from a barn could kill somebody. I didn’t believe him then and I kind of still don’t but I’m older now and it’s time to find out. Come with me to the balcony, I’ve got to try something…
Clark blanched in sudden terror. “No. No, Dad, no body would—”
![[Linked Image]](http://cosgan.de/images/midi/frech/e045.gif)
nobody
Alone in his room again, Clark turned over and faced the window. He wanted to forget the things his dad had told him, but he just couldn’t. He watched the stars over the fields of their farm and wondered, but it was a long time before sleep came.
And they wonder why Clark’s got such a huge chip on his shoulder when it comes to other people.
and what Dad didn’t know, Mom did! He cut off that train of thought in a hurry and reached for a black pencil.
And now we know where his believe in authority figures comes from. No wonder he follows Lois around like a puppy.
“Ow.” Clark said a few moments later, when he remembered that hitting things with your head was supposed to hurt.
Well, that was a cute five-year-old!
Michael
