This is a ficathon story for Dandello. The specific request is at the end.
Thanks to CarolM for betaing and thinking of the title!
GOOD FOR THE GANDER
The day that he came into the Kents’ lives was unremarkable in every other way. Jonathan had just finished his farm chores for the day and was plodding back to the house, his boots caked heavily with mud. The temperature had recently taken a sudden dip, and Jonathan was glad for his heavy jacket that kept off the evening chill.
Leaving his dirty boots by the door, he thankfully stepped into the warm kitchen that smelled like chicken pot pie and fresh coffee. He was also greeted by two pairs of melting brown eyes that belonged to Wayne Irig’s grand-nieces. They were visiting from Chicago and were fascinated by farm life.
“Mr. Kent! Mr. Kent! Look what we found!” Amy, the youngest, was bouncing up and down in excitement, nearly knocking her sister over.
“The girls were exploring the fields today,” Martha told Jonathan, her smile sparkling. Nothing seemed to make Martha come alive more than taking care of children.
“And that’s where we found him, Mr. Kent,” Vicky filled in, looking a little more collected than her sister. She knelt down by the basket that was placed by the heat register. Jonathan crouched down beside her to get a better look.
Nestled among Martha’s checked dishtowel was a small, dirty looking bundle of feathers. Vicky reached over and patted the feathers gently. It twitched, and a beak rose up from a thin neck, letting out a faint honk before falling back down again.
Jonathan stared at the quivering feathers in disbelief. This was the treasure that Vicky and Amy were so excited to show off? Well, his experience as a father had taught him how to summon up enthusiasm over a handful of dirt, so he dug deep to bring forth a sufficient response.
“Well, he’s certainly… special,” Jonathan commented weakly.
“Do you really like him?” Vicky asked hopefully.
“Sure I do,” Jonathan nodded, warming up to the familiar role. “I’m sure he really appreciated you bringing him in from the cold like you did.”
“Even gooses need to keep warm,” Amy explained solemnly. “And his wing is brokded, so he can’t fly away with all the other gooses.”
“Will you look after him, Mr. Kent?” Vicky asked earnestly.
“Me?” Jonathan sputtered in surprise. Suddenly, acting impressed over the miserable ball of feathers seemed like a bad idea.
“Uncle Wayne says he doesn’t have room for Hector cause of the calves,” Amy told him.
Apparently, Uncle Wayne was a smarter man than he was.
“Please, Mr. Kent?” Vicky begged. “Mrs. Kent says we have to make sure that it’s okay with you, too.”
So Martha had thrown him under the bus as well. She would know that there was no way he could say no to those brown eyes.
“All right,” Jonathan agreed, defeated before he had even started to fight. “Mrs. Kent and I will take care of him.
And that was how Hector came to live with the Kents.
* * *
Having a goose as a permanent houseguest did not go over smoothly for Jonathan and Martha. Thankfully, Amy’s diagnosis of a broken wing was correct, which prevented Hector from making any indoor flights. The wing had healed badly, and the crooked result made flight impossible for the rest of Hector’s foreseeable life. Unfortunately, this negated any chance Jonathan had of reintroducing the goose to the wild.
Instead, Hector’s new habitat became the kitchen. It gave him warmth, and an endless supply of food. It was also a source of perpetual entertainment for Hector. He had taken to following close on Jonathan’s heels as the man tried to take care of his usual business in the kitchen.
Hector would be there as Jonathan fixed a sandwich in hopes that a few crumbs would fall. Hector was there as Jonathan washed the dishes after supper, honking loudly and looking deeply offended whenever a drop of water fell on his head, yet still crowded in close to Jonathan’s feet, looking for more. Hector was there in the morning to greet Jonathan as he groped around for his morning coffee, and it was with great reluctance that Hector parted from Jonathan at night. No matter what the man was doing, the one thing that did remain constant was that Hector was never more than a foot from Jonathan’s legs.
“Martha I can’t take another minute of this,” Jonathan complained, nearly tripping as he skipped out of Hector’s way for yet another time. “Having a goose in the house is ridiculous!”
“He’s a gander,” Martha was always quick to correct. “Male geese are called ganders, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate you mixing that up.”
“Well, regardless of what he’s called, I still don’t like having him in the house. I’m a farmer, Martha,” Jonathan explained pragmatically. “I believe that animals belong outside. Pets don’t belong on a farm, either. Every animal needs to have a purpose.”
“You promised those girls that you would look after Hector,” Martha reminded him. “How do you think they would react if they found out that you turned Hector into your Christmas dinner? Besides,” she continued, bending down to feed Hector a small chunk of freshly baked bread, “he’s not as big of a nuisance as you make him out to be.”
Hector honked in appreciation and gazed up at Martha in a perfectly innocent fashion. When her back was turned, Jonathan scowled at the goose. It was one thing to steal his food and trip him in his own home. It was another thing entirely to turn his own wife against him.
Still, Jonathan had promised the girls he would look after Hector. And a promise made to those innocent brown eyes was not quickly forgotten. So on behalf of Vicky and Amy, Jonathan made an effort.
He gave Hector a special corner in the kitchen, marked by a basket with a pillow inside. Jonathan was always sure that Hector had plenty of food and water in that corner, thinking that if Hector had everything he needed, then he would stop stalking Jonathan around the kitchen. Martha, either through some form of witchcraft or sheer force of will, had managed to train Hector to use a little box. But even these improvements did not fix the relationship between farmer and goose. Or gander, rather.
Hector enjoyed having his own corner in the kitchen, but that enjoyment only served to increase Jonathan’s irritation. No matter the size of the water dish, Hector still managed to make a terrific mess splashing water all over the floor, and increasing the hazards of the kitchen. Hector also expressed his appreciation by following Jonathan *outside* of the kitchen, into nearly all corners of the house. Jonathan’s only relief came from Hector’s inability to climb the stairs, although the Kents were still subjected to Hector’s mournful ballad every night when they went to bed. Jonathan remained convinced that Hector was of no use, and Hector did very little to prove Jonathan wrong.
It wasn’t until Martha had gone to Metropolis for the day to shop for Christmas presents, courtesy of Superman express, that things changed between Hector and Jonathan.
Jonathan was planning on surprising Martha with supper when Clark brought her home, and so he was working in the kitchen, enduring the usual torments of his avian stalker.
“Where did Martha put those potatoes?” he muttered to himself, searching through the cabinets. “I saw her bring in the sack just yesterday but where…”
He was interrupted mid-thought by a loud honk.
“Hector, be quiet!” Jonathan scolded. “I’m trying to think… Potatoes… Where would she put them…”
Hector honked again.
“Hector!” Jonathan pulled his head up to speak with the goose eye to eye, but was surprised to see that he was no where nearby. “Hector, where did you…” Jonathan stopped suddenly as his eyes landed on the spot where Hector was standing. “Well, I’ll be!” Jonathan stood up and walked over to Hector. “That’s where those potatoes went to. You found them for me, didn’t you, buddy?”
It appeared to be so. Hector stood proudly by the sack of potatoes, reaching down every once in a while to preen a stray feather.
Jonathan stared down at the goose, and couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride. After all, he was obviously the owner of the smartest goose in existence. Maybe Hector was good for something after all.
“Thanks, Hector,” Jonathan spoke. “You sure helped me out there, buddy.”
Hector honked, and looked hopefully up at Jonathan. Hesitating, his hand hovered over the feathers. Finally, Jonathan relented, burying his hand deep within the feathers on Hector’s back. If geese could sigh, that would have been the sound that Hector made at that moment.
He looked into Jonathan’s eyes, and something passed between them. A sense of camaraderie, perhaps, that came from working together to prepare a meal for the woman they both loved. Whatever it was, it created a bond between them that changed the very nature of their relationship.
* * *
Martha wasn’t sure exactly when Jonathan’s feelings towards Hector had changed. But she suddenly because aware of it one night when she saw Jonathan sitting in his armchair reading a book with Hector curled up comfortably at his feet.
“I see you two have finally made friends,” Martha commented. “I told you, Jonathan, you just needed to get used to him.”
Jonathan cleared his throat suddenly, and yanked his feet away from Hector, who flared his wings and made a protesting honk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Martha,” he harrumphed. “That animal is still just as much a nuisance as he’s always been.”
“Oh, really?” Martha questioned, raising an eyebrow. Trust Jonathan to be so stubborn about something like this. No one would care if he changed his mind, but that husband of hers hated to be thought of as being wrong about something.
Jonathan stole a guilty glance at Hector and then met her eyes reluctantly. “Yes,” he replied assuredly. “I told you before, Martha, animals don’t belong in the house. The only reason why I’m keeping him here is because I made that promise to the girls.”
“Well, I guess you’ll be glad to know that I’ve been thinking about that,” Martha told him casually. “It’s unlikely that they’re be back to visit Wayne for a while. And really, they should learn what things are like on a farm. And you’re right. Animals are meant to do some good on a farm. And I was talking to Clark about this earlier, and he agrees that having a goose for Christmas dinner would be very nice.”
Jonathan’s hands tightened around his book. “D-dinner?” he stammered.
“Yes,” Martha replied. “You didn’t forget that Clark and Lois are coming here for Christmas day, did you? Anyway, I called Larry in town and he said that you could stop by tomorrow and he’ll give us a good deal to butcher Hector even if it is Christmas Eve.”
“Tomorrow?” Jonathan asked, staring down at Hector in shock.
“Unless you’ve decided otherwise,” Martha offered.
“No! Of course not,” Jonathan jumped in. “I meant what I said about Hector needing to do some good on the farm. This seems like a… good opportunity.”
“Great.” Martha stretched and faked a yawn. “Well, I’m heading to bed. I have quite a few things to do tomorrow. We have that Christmas party to get to at the Rosses tomorrow and I promised that I would bring dessert. Are you coming up soon?”
“I’ll be right there,” Jonathan replied blankly, never taking his eyes off Hector.
Martha waited until she had turned around before she let her smile grow. She knew for sure that Jonathan loved that silly bird, and by forcing his hand she could hopefully get him to admit it.
* * *
The next day, Martha began to doubt herself. Jonathan had made a big show of driving Hector to town, and he returned with a large plastic wrapped bundle which he immediately shoved in the back of the fridge. Had Jonathan really gone through with it? Maybe she misjudged his attachment to Hector. Martha longed to check the fridge and see what was really there, but Christmas preparations seemed to take up the whole day, and Jonathan never seemed to leave the kitchen long enough for her to bring out that mysterious package.
Her son and his wife arrived on Christmas morning, a little later than promised but looking happy and glad to be in Smallville. Lois laughed as Clark began to help her unwrap from all her layers.
“You didn’t need to bundle me up this much, Clark,” Lois protested as soon as her scarf was loosened.
“Just being safe,” Clark replied, dropping a kiss onto her lips. “I didn’t want you to get cold.” Then he turned to greet Martha and Jonathan. “Merry Christmas, Mom, Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas, you two,” Jonathan replied. “It’s nice to see you here. You don’t get out here often enough.”
“I know,” Lois sighed, handing her coat off to Clark to be hung. “It’s been busy at the Planet lately and it seems as if we haven’t had a proper day off in forever. It’s nice to finally be able to get away.”
“Well, I was just about to go get some chores done,” Jonathan announced. “I’ll be back in a bit and we can catch up on all the stories you’ve written lately.”
“Need some help, Dad?” Clark offered.
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Jonathan waved him off. “I’m sure your mother will need some help getting that, uh, bird in the oven.”
Jonathan ducked out quickly before Clark could respond, so instead he turned to his mother.
“Do you need some help?” he asked.
“Sure,” Martha replied. “Can you fetch that roasting pan for me from the top shelf? And Lois-”
“I can start peeling potatoes,” she volunteered. “I can handle that, at least.”
“Thank you,” Martha acknowledged. Then she opened the fridge to remove the goose tucked in the back. Carefully lifting the bird up, she set it on the counter, and turned it around so she could see the handwritten label stuck on the plastic packaging.
“Turkey,” it read. “16 lbs. Pickup for Jonathan Kent.”
“Excuse me,” Martha told her son and daughter in law. “I just need to step out to the barn and talk to Jonathan about something.”
The walk didn’t take long, and she slipped into the barn quietly, not wanting to betray her presence to Jonathan right away.
“I wouldn’t like to spend Christmas out here either, Buddy,” her husband was saying. “But you’ve got to tough it out just for the day, okay? I’ll find a way to break it to Martha, I promise and then you’ll be back in the kitchen where you belong.”
The goose gave an impatient honk.
“I know, Buddy, I’m sorry. But I can’t just tell Martha about what I did…”
“Why not?” Martha demanded, stepping forward.
Jonathan jumped and whipped his head around to look guiltily at Martha. “Uh… Martha! I wasn’t expecting you…”
“I guess not,” Martha replied, grinning down at the goose. “Jonathan, did you really expect to pass off a turkey as a goose for our Christmas dinner? You had to have known I would figure it out then.”
“I was thinking of maybe pretending that maybe Larry had… Aw, who am I kidding? I’ve been a foolish, stubborn man, haven’t I, Martha?”
“Maybe a little,” Martha teased gently. “But you’ve been exactly the man who I married. Maybe a little gruff on the outside at times, but loving and sensitive on the inside, even if you don’t always show it.”
“And you’re exactly the woman I married,” Jonathan replied, putting an arm around her. “Knowing me even better than I know myself. I love you, Martha.”
“And I love you, Jonathan.”
Her husband held her with his rough farmer’s hands and kissed her in the same way that he had been kissing her for decades.
Young people could say what they wanted about the thrill of a new romance. Martha would take this kind of security any day over any new flashy toy.
But before their kiss could go anything further, they were interrupted by a loud, indignant honk.
“Yes, Hector,” Martha laughed. “We’ll get you inside now. After all,” she continued, turning back to Jonathan. “Christmas is a time for family to be together. No matter what stubborn old men may say about it.”
~end~
Screen name: Dandello
Three things I want in my fic:
1. Ma & Pa Kent
2. smoochies
3. a turkey or goose (maybe even a live one)
Preferred season(s)/holiday [if applicable]:
Xmas
Three things I do not want in my fic:
1. Lex
2. Scardino
3. a lot of angst
