Just a note: Since I've volunteered to write a story for the fundraiser, Mother's Day may continue a little slowly, since there is a deadline on the other and none on Mother's Day. It will keep going, however. I have no intention of leaving an unfinished story.
Nan
Mother's Day: 6/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"Yeah," Wyatt said. "I won't say anything, but I'm gonna practice this until I'm as good at it as the others. It's kinda cool to be able to talk to somebody and nobody else knows it."
"I guess it is," Clark agreed. "I want you to do something for me, if you would."
"Sure," Wyatt said.
"After I've dropped you off at home, I want you to wait for half an hour and try to call me. I want to see if this works at a distance. If I don't answer you, try to call Marta. Okay?"
"Okay," Wyatt said.
"As for what's going on now, after Mr. Henderson's guards chased Coach Pilson away, I followed him," Clark said. "I overheard him reporting to someone by cell phone. The other person said something about thinking CJ was one of the Kryptonian kids, so they're trying to decide if he is. If Coach Pilson tries to get him alone -- or if anyone else at school does -- I'd like you to try to watch where they go, and call me -- but *don't* let anyone know what you're doing. I don't want you getting in trouble, too."
"Okay," Wyatt said. "I can do that."
**********
After the door closed behind Linda and her mother, Lois stretched. "I think it's time I went upstairs to bed."
"Okay," Clark said. "Stay right there, and I'll give you a lift."
Lois did so, grimacing as he picked her up lightly from the sofa. "I'm leaving a permanent dent in the sofa cushions," she remarked.
"I doubt it," Clark said, with a slight grin, "but even if you do, hanging onto those babies as long as possible is worth it."
"I don't see how you can stand me like this," she said, gesturing to her abdomen. "I'm as clumsy as an ox, and --"
"And it's only temporary," Clark said. He was ascending the stairs with her held effortlessly in his arms. "At the most it will only be a few weeks, and when it's over we'll have three healthy babies. And you'll have your usual trim figure back in a few months. Besides, you're always beautiful to me."
"I'm worried about the stretched skin," she fretted. "A friend of mine had twins, and the skin on her stomach never did go back to the way it was."
"If it doesn't," he said, "we can talk about doing whatever it takes to fix the situation, but I'm betting it will."
"And," she asked as he set her carefully on her feet by the bathroom that opened off their bedroom, "what makes you so sure of that?"
"I'm not sure," he said. "Completely, that is. But Dr. Klein said the reason your stretch marks disappeared after the other kids was because of the effects of my aura on you. It might work the same way with the stretched skin. If it doesn't we'll fix it some other way."
Slightly mollified, she turned to enter the bathroom to prepare for bed. "Okay, but I'll hold you to that."
Clark shook his head, smiling slightly, and ambled over to his dresser to get his sleeping shorts. These days, Lois's nighttime routine took twice as long as it used to, and he usually waited for the children and his mother to finish in the other bathroom, before going in there to shower before bed. While he waited, he went to lean on the windowsill, looking out at the night sky.
As usual, the haze of city lights hid the stars and he casually scanned the city for sounds that might tell him that Superman was needed. From somewhere he heard the warble of a police siren, and from somewhere else the wail of a fire truck on its way to some emergency or other, but he had learned over the years that the people of his city could take care of themselves most of the time. Once he had figured that out, Superman's presence at minor emergencies had become more of a rarity, and it enabled him to spend more time with his family.
The odd tickling sensation in his brain was more of an annoyance at first, and then the tickle resolved itself into the faintest of whispers. '... Hear me?'
It was Wyatt. It had to be. The whisper was almost recognizable as the boy's voice. 'I hear you.'
He felt the flood of triumph in Wyatt's mind before the boy replied with words. 'I didn't think it was going to work. I've been trying for a couple of minutes. Your voice isn't too loud, but I can hear you.'
'Okay,' Clark said. 'Thanks. I guess the test worked. Good night. We'll talk more about this tomorrow.'
'Good night,' the boy's voice whispered.
And then, as Wyatt's whisper disappeared into silence, another voice, one that he had never heard before, said suddenly in his head, 'Who are you? Who said that?'
Clark cut off the telepathic channel as if he had been burned. The voice had been young, loud and male. Definitely not Valerie Henderson, he thought. Somewhere nearby was another human/Kryptonian hybrid who had picked up on the conversation.
Carefully, he reached out again, questing. 'Who are *you*?' he asked.
For long moments, silence answered him. Then the voice said, 'I thought I was going crazy! *Am* I going crazy? Who are you?'
'First tell me who you are.'
For an instant, he thought he wasn't going to get an answer, and then the voice said, 'I've got to go.' The voice, and the faint feeling of emotion behind the words, snapped off as sharply as a wire being cut.
**********
CJ poured maple syrup on his pancakes and tore into his breakfast. Clark shoveled scrambled eggs on to the plates of his daughter and younger sons, added bacon and finished pouring milk into their glasses. Lois was still asleep, and he intended to see to it that she slept as long as she could. The three growing babies had made rest very difficult for her for the last several months, so when she was able to sleep, Clark made every effort to see that she was not disturbed.
Today, fortunately, was his day off, which was just as well, because there were several things that he needed to take care of. Perry had tried to arrange it so that he could take the days that he wanted whenever he found it necessary. Now that both of them acknowledged that Perry knew his secret, and there was no longer any necessity to pretend that Perry didn't know, he had to acknowledge that it was a lot easier on both of them. Why they hadn't simply been straightforward with each other before he now couldn't quite understand. There hadn't been any question in his mind for years now that Perry could be trusted.
In any case, as long as he held up his share of the bargain and contributed stories on a regular basis, Perry pretty much let him do as he chose. Today, he needed to attend the exhibition game between Metro Elementary and Eastside. Not only was CJ the starting pitcher, Clark wanted to look over the situation with Coach Pilson, or Maxwell, or whatever his real name was, without that individual being aware of it.
Martha Kent stepped into the kitchen, glancing at the clock. "Okay, kids, ten minute warning. Jimmy, when you're finished, I want you to go up and put on the clothes that I've laid out on your bed."
"Okay, Grandma," Jimmy said.
CJ finished shoveling pancakes into his mouth, drained the glass of milk, wiped his hands on his napkin and stood up. "Done," he announced, picking up his plate and silverware and depositing them in the sink as he spoke. "I'm going to get my stuff and wait in the car."
Clark nodded. "I'll be right there," he said. "Marta, you and Jonny need to hurry."
"I'm done," Marta said. "Hurry up, Jonny."
"I'm done, too," the six-year-old informed them.
"Good," Clark said. "Go wash your hands and come out to the car. I'll move Lois downstairs when I get back," he added to Martha.
"All right. I'll tell her, if she wakes up before you get back." Martha poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table and sat down to read the Daily Planet.
By the time Clark made it to the Jeep, CJ was already waiting for him. Cautiously, Clark lowered his glasses and looked the whole area over, but it seemed that no one was watching them. He opened the driver's door and got in.
"Dad," CJ said, as soon as the door closed, "You know the stuff we talked about after you got back?"
"Did you think of something else you wanted to ask?" Clark asked.
"Sort of. We didn't really have time to talk a lot about it."
"Go ahead." Clark closed his mouth and thought as clearly as he could directly at his son, keeping the thoughts clearly focussed on CJ. The New Kryptonians had been able to do that, he knew, when they wanted to. 'I don't think anyone is listening, but after last night I think we should probably be careful. Think *at* me, CJ. Try not to let your thoughts go anywhere else.'
'Okay,' CJ thought back at him. Clark could almost see the narrow stream of communication directly to him. CJ was better at this than he was, he thought. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that CJ was still a child, and more adaptable than an adult. 'I wanted to ask about Wyatt,' CJ continued. 'I mean, it was great that he could hear us, but how can he hear us at all? At first the only person he could hear was Marta, but after she told him to listen for us, he could hear the rest of us, and then ...' He went on to detail exactly what had happened the night before. 'How can that be, Dad? I thought regular people couldn't do that.'
'I've managed it with your mom a few times,' Clark told him. "We never practiced, but if we had, we might have gotten better at it. As for Wyatt -- I'm not sure. Some people do have ESP here on Earth, though. I know one personally, although she isn't always as accurate as you might think. In any case, I'm going to talk to Dr. Klein about it when I get the chance.' He paused. "Marta really didn't have any trouble talking to him, though -- or hearing him?'
CJ shook his head. 'She didn't even have to try very hard. Does that mean Wyatt and Marta are like Linda and me and you and Mom?'
'What do you mean?' Clark asked, a little startled.
'You know,' CJ said. 'Like that New Kryptonian thing -- sort of tied together?'
'Where did you hear about that?' Clark asked.
'I heard you and Mom talking about it,' CJ said. 'Does it mean that Linda and I are going to get married when we grow up?'
'Maybe,' Clark said. 'I learned a little about it from Zara when I was on the New Kryptonian mother ship. Kryptonians tend to do that when they meet the person that's right for them. It's called bonding.'
'Oh,' CJ said. He looked thoughtful. 'Well, that's okay. If I get married someday, I wouldn't want to marry anybody but Linda. Will Wyatt marry Marta?'
'It's possible,' Clark said. 'Would you mind?'
'No,' CJ said, surprising him. 'Marta's pretty cool, when she isn't trying to boss me around.'
Clark reflected that Wyatt might not mind that part, as long as it was Marta doing the bossing, any more than he minded Lois bossing him around, but he didn't say so. He looked around carefully and spoke aloud. "I wanted to tell you what happened last night, before Marta and Jonny get here. Mr. Henderson is trying to find out who this Pilson -- or Maxwell -- is, for us. Your mother and I talked it over with him last night, and he wanted you to do something for him."
"Sure," CJ said. "What?"
"You know that I've found one of the Kryptonian kids here in Metropolis, but I didn't tell you who it was."
"Yeah, I know," CJ said. "It's Valerie Henderson."
Clark paused infinitesimally before he continued. "How did you know that?"
"I didn't. Linda told me."
"How did *she* know?"
CJ shrugged. "She just did. The same way she knew Marta was, I guess. Valerie's one of her friends. She isn't going to tell anyone."
"Oh," Clark said. He was definitely going to need to talk to Linda in private as soon as he could make the time. "Well, Mr. Henderson knows about you, you know. He's afraid that whatever this thing is, that Valerie might be in danger. He's going to tell her that if she thinks she's in danger, she's to go to you, and you can call me. All right?"
"Okay," CJ said.
"And one last thing. You should pass this along to Linda and Marta when you get the chance. Something happened last night. Wyatt was talking to me -- kind of a test to see if he could. Someone else overheard us. Someone spoke to me the same way. I think he was surprised, but this means there's another Kryptonian hybrid around here somewhere. When you talk telepathically, be careful. Understand?"
CJ nodded. "I'll tell them both as soon as we get away from Jonny. Jimmy and him; they overheard us talking with telepathy last night, but they didn't know what was going on."
"Yeah," Clark said. It sounded as if things were getting more complicated than ever.
CJ was frowning. "This is kinda scary," he said. "I wanted to ask you last night -- do you think it would help if I wore glasses like you? I mean, people wouldn't think I was a superkid if I had to wear glasses. Besides," he added, "if I start doing super things like you, when I grow up, I don't want anyone to recognize me."
"Well," Clark said, after a pause, "your grandmother and grandfather put glasses on me when I was about twelve, to remind me not to use my vision powers. That was right after I set a haystack on fire by accident. It's up to you, really, because you're already know how to handle your super-vision."
"Well," CJ said, "I think maybe I should. D'you think I could get some really cool frames, so I don't look like a nerd?"
Clark couldn't help grinning. "I think we can manage that."
**********
"Strike three!" the umpire announced. CJ rubbed his shoulder as he straightened up from the final pitch that ended the game. The score was four to nothing, largely due to CJ's pitching and the excellent support of his teammates.
Coach Pilson, or whatever his name really was, was standing on the sidelines, a grin on his face, as if he were responsible for the way the Metro Elementary Wildcats had played -- which, CJ thought, he wasn't. Coach Tibbets was the one who had taught them to play as a team, even when the pitcher and the right fielder could barely stand each other. The parents and families of the players were going crazy in the stands, and behind home plate, he could see Wyatt doing a victory dance, clutching the ball in his catcher's glove and waving it in the air. Then the other members of his team descended on him, screaming and pounding him wherever their hands came in contact with his body. He found that he was grateful for his partial invulnerability.
He could see his dad in the stands, yelling along with the other parents, and the fact that he was there made CJ feel considerably safer. Whatever the coach was up to, CJ thought, his dad wouldn't let him get away with it, at least for now.
The Eastside Elementary Wolves were advancing to shake the hands of the winners, and the Wildcats lined up behind him to graciously accept the congratulations. That was something that the schools insisted on to show good sportsmanship. CJ suspected that congratulating him was the last thing they wanted to do. He had heard the remarks when the opposing team had discovered that he was the Wildcats' pitcher today. Not many members of Metropolis's four other elementary schools' baseball teams were too fond of him.
Linda had moved up behind him. She was looking at the members of the opposing team with a serious expression, but she didn't say anything. At last, the Wildcats traipsed off the field, to be met by their family members. Wyatt, Linda and CJ walked together in a small group. CJ could see that his dad was trying to work his way down from the stands through the crowd of parents. Coach Pilson had moved toward them, and as CJ approached the area by the gate, the coach stopped beside him. "That was great pitching," he remarked casually. "Not many kids can pitch as well as you, Kent."
"Other kids didn't have my grandfather to teach them how," CJ said.
"Was he really that good?" Pilson asked.
"Yeah, he was," CJ said. "He pitches for the senior's team in Smallville, now. He's still better than any of the others there."
"Too bad your dad didn't decide to play," Pilson said. "Didn't your grandfather teach him?"
"Yeah," CJ said, wondering a little about the questions. "My dad liked football better than baseball. He played at Midwest U."
"Oh," Pilson said. "And then he decided to be a reporter."
"Yeah, he did," CJ said. "Why?"
"Just making conversation," Pilson said. "I've read a lot of his stuff." He looked at Linda and Wyatt. "That was fine teamwork," he said. "I guess catching for Kent here keeps you on your toes," he added to Wyatt. "Do you always catch for him?"
"Yeah," Wyatt said. "Coach Tibbets always assigns me to catch for CJ."
"I can see why," Pilson remarked, casually. "Been catching for him long?"
"Just this year," CJ said. "At least here. Wyatt's in Little League, too."
"Oh, I see," Pilson said. "How about you, Lennox?"
"I just transferred to Metro Elementary this year," Linda said. "I used to go to Susan Bitterwerth Elementary before this."
"Oh," Pilson said.
Linda pointed. "There's your dad, CJ," she said suddenly. Relieved, CJ saw Clark Kent coming across the blacktop toward him. Pilson turned in time to come face to face with CJ's father. CJ could hear his heartbeat speed up.
Clark looked the coach up and down. "You must be Coach Pilson," he said. CJ and Linda looked at each other.
"Yeah," Pilson said. "John Tibbets has the flu, so I'm substituting. You must be CJ's father."
"That's right. Clark Kent," Clark said, extending a hand. Pilson took it, and the men shook hands. CJ saw the coach wince slightly.
"Your son's a terrific pitcher for his age," Pilson said.
"We think so," Clark said. "My father taught him, when he was about five." He looked past the coach to CJ, Wyatt and Linda. "If you three hurry, I'll give you a ride home with Marta. Linda, your mother called to tell Lois that she's going to be late again tonight, so you're eating with us again."
"Okay," Linda said. "We'll be just a few minutes, Mr. Kent."
**********
tbc
