Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Dust (1/3)

Summary: After trying to save the world from the asteroid Nightfall, Clark Kent finds himself in a crater, without clothes, memory, "handkerchief or documents," as the poet Caetano Veloso would say. But in this version, he doesn't end up in Metropolis. Instead, he lands in a small town in the interior of Bahia, in the Brazilian Northeast.

Author's Notes: I've committed a terrible sin: I wrote a story that only I will enjoy! Oops.

I should point out that this fanfic only exists because of the plot bunny that AmandaK posted on Discord. Before that, I wasn't excited or inspired to write anything, so I'm only participating in the location challenge because of this idea.

Before we begin, a quick glossary: mainha and painho are affectionate ways of referring to mother and father, respectively, very commonly used in Northeast Brazil. At the end of the chapter, there will be a proper glossary with local words and expressions, but I left these for the end because I believe that from the narrative context, it's possible to understand them. So there will be some things that are intentionally odd in English and will be explained in the glossary, but there will also be other odd things that are not intentional because they'll be my mistakes, for which I apologize in advance. As always, I welcome criticism and corrections.

I've been struggling with first-person narration in the present tense. It's not my style, but I chose to write this way because I considered it the most suitable for the story's rhythm. Speaking of which, the pacing will be a little different from the episode All Shook Up, faster in terms of events, otherwise this fanfic would have ended up even longer than it already is.

There's a village over there
Where a good wind blows
[...]
Everyone fits in there
Palestine, Shangri-La
Come walk and fly
Come walk and fly
Come walk and fly

— Vilarejo, Marisa Monte

The first thing I become aware of around me is a long scream along with barking. Confused, I try to figure out where I am. I feel fine, although I have the sensation that I fell here. Nothing hurts, there's just a disquieting confusion that almost makes me dizzy.

Okay. I've just realized I'm in a hole. Without clothes.

In a hole. With no clothes! What must have happened to me? I'm starting to get desperate because I can't remember. Was I running from someone? Some psychotic criminal? Above me, I see nothing but a full moon in a night sky and...

Oh! Some dogs have come closer. They're mutts, black or caramel-colored. They watch me with their heads tilted, curious, until one starts barking and all the others join in. Now I do feel something close to a headache, but before I complain, I think that the noise might be good if it attracts some human being over here.

“That’s right, friends, keep barking,” I say, before realizing that there’s actually a human watching me now. “Hi! It’s so good to see someone. Can you help me get out of here?”

There’s no answer. I squint, and see that, more specifically, there are three little humans with a flashlight – three kids. And I’m naked! As I curl up in a corner, I ask myself: can this get any worse?

"Ôôô painho! There’s a weird naked man in a hole over here!” one of the kids yells as he runs off.

Yeah, what a great way to make a first impression.

───

What happens next is a bit confusing. I notice that several people are approaching where I am. I hear some children crying, others shouting with excitement over the novelty. The first to arrive at the edge of the hole is an old man who widens his eyes when he sees me naked and leaves, promising to fetch some clothes. Meanwhile, more people come over to look at me, and I feel like a caged animal at the zoo as I try to preserve my dignity.

"He's a werewolf, for sure!" someone declares categorically, sparking a cacophony of voices that I can’t quite keep up with, no matter how hard I try.

"Werewolf! That’s just a story to make cows sleep. Nonsense! He must have been sent here in a missile – that explains the hole.”

“But how could he have been sent along with a missile, Antônio? Oh, please, you probably don’t even know what a missile is!”

“Or he was thrown out of a plane...”

“Oxe, and he’d still be alive? I doubt it.”

"What if he's an alien? They've already visited Minas Gerais, so maybe they want to visit Bahia too."

"Aliens in Minas Gerais... There's another story to make cows sleep."

“It must be a drunk who tripped over the hole and fell in.”

“That hole wasn't there before.”

"We're basically in the middle of nowhere – there's no way to be sure."

"Could it be macumba, though?"

“And there’s a ritual involving people? I thought it was just black chickens.”

"He's probably just a crazy guy who escaped from the asylum in Feira de Santana, folks..."

"Now that I believe. Everyone knows that everything bad in this state has its start in Feira de Santana."

“Yes, it is known.”

“He has to be a werewolf. It's the only explanation that makes sense!”

“Whether he's a werewolf, an alien, a drunk, or crazy... he's really handsome.”

“I don't think he's a werewolf, otherwise he'd be hairier...”

Despite the general madness of the moment, I feel even more frightened by the last two comments, made by two young women who are eyeing me predatorily, so to speak. It’s a relief when the man who spoke to me earlier returns with my clothes. I put on the shirt and shorts, noticing a bulge in the front pocket. There I find a pair of glasses, which for some mysterious reason make me feel very relieved. I put on the glasses and slip into the soft flip-flops the man handed me, and then I finally step out into the corner of the hole illuminated by the light of the full moon.

“Oh, he really is handsome!” one of the girls from earlier exclaims softly, though I hear it as if she were speaking inside my head. I shudder and turn my attention back to the kind man who helped me.

“Thank you for the clothes. I know this is a strange situation, but… Could you help me get out of here?”

“Is getting the crazy guy out of the hole a good idea?” someone in the crowd asks. “Isn’t it better to leave him there, where he can’t reach us?”

The man looks around and then stares at me. “My name is Filipe. And who are you, young man?”

That’s where we run into a huge problem, because after racking my brain, I realize I have no idea. “Well, I’m –”

“Excuse me, everyone, excuse me, seu Filipe,” a younger man interrupts. “You’re wasting time. Tiago and Oscar, since you’re the strongest, help the man up. Don’t give me that look! I’m not going to throw myself into a hole to examine a potential fugitive from Feira de Santana, so he’s going to have to come up here.”

After I'm back at ground level, I'm coldly examined and questioned by the man, whom I soon discover is Dr. Peixoto. He's efficient, quick, not very gentle, and definitely not slow, because he soon declares that I'm fine, but that I must have hit my head and that's why I have amnesia – much to the community's astonishment.

“Oxe, I thought that only happened in soap operas!”

“See? That just proves he’s a werewolf! And today’s a full moon!” someone exclaims.

“Well, that’s none of my concern, since I’m not a veterinarian,” Dr. Peixoto declares. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back home to see if I can still get four clock hours of sleep before sunrise. And I recommend that everyone do the same.”

And that’s when seu Filipe asks a very pertinent question: “And where is the man going to sleep?”

Before an awkward silence can settle in, a high-pitched female voice speaks up: "He can stay at my house! My room is really– Ouch, Grandma, my arm!"

"Have some decency, girl! How are we going to put a man in a house with six women? Get a hold of yourself!" exclaims a short elderly woman. Her granddaughter, one of the women who had been staring at me, rubs her arm with a pained expression. And although I despise slaps just as much as I despise violence in general, I can't help but feel grateful to this old lady.

“And don’t forget that he’s probably a crazy fugitive. Shouldn’t he be at the police station?”

“And who’s going to take him all the way there at this hour? You?”

“Epa, epa. That’s enough,” a man who looks to be about fifty interrupts calmly. “He’ll stay at my house. He may be tall and strong, but he’s not two people, and at my place, there’s me, Nuno and Marcos – enough men to handle him if he causes trouble.”

“I’m not going to,” I say, because I still feel like an animal in a zoo and I need someone to listen to me before I go crazy.

“Good,” the man replies. “The last thing we need is a crazy guy bothering us on what’s probably one of our last days alive.”

I look at him, startled, trying to figure out if it’s some kind of joke, or what he meant by that. But apparently my blank expression shows just how confused I am, because before I can open my mouth, he says, “Oh, right! If you’ve lost your memory, you won’t remember the asteroid!”

───

On the short walk to my host’s house, I'm filled in on the current situation. We walk under the moonlight, aided by oil lamps and flashlights and guarded by the dogs. Marcos, seu Conrado's youngest son, introduces me to his mutt, Baiacu, who immediately growls and decides he doesn't like me very much. Dona Terezinha, seu Conrado's wife, on the other hand, is very friendly toward me. Nuno, the oldest son, who seems to be around twenty-five, is more reserved, but equally polite. Everyone in the family and also the other people accompanying us seem worried or interested in me, and they readily tell me about recent events so that I can understand what's going on. However, it doesn't help much. I don't know who I am, the planet Earth is going to be hit by a huge asteroid called Nightfall, and there's a hero from outer space called Superman who will certainly save us. Do any of these things make sense? I don’t think so.

“I’d turn on the TV so you could watch the news, but we’ve been without power since yesterday, so we don’t know what’s going on right now either,” Marcos explains excitedly as soon as we arrive at their house. “And the only phone around here – Dr. Peixoto’s – isn’t working because lightning struck the line. He’s still waiting for the repair crew to come, so we’re cut off. But I’m sure Superman will be able to sort it out.”

"But Betinho, Lourdes's boy, went into town this afternoon to look into that power situation. He should be back soon with good news," dona Terezinha tells me, handing me a towel, soap, and a change of clothes.

After taking a shower, they offer me something to eat. Since I’m not even a little bit hungry, I decide to wait for breakfast. So, I’m given a thin sheet and a pillow and settled onto the largest sofa in the living room. Even though it’s a little smaller than I am, I don’t feel uncomfortable.

Seu Conrado blows out the oil lamp and wishes me good night. However, time passes and I can't fall asleep. I have a lot to think about – and there are many mosquitoes, supersonic ones, judging by the extremely loud buzzing I hear. Luckily, they don’t bite me, because I don’t feel any itching at all. Well, just the itching in my mind, really. How did I end up in that hole? I can’t help but think I was attacked, but Dr. Peixoto examined me and found no injuries and no signs of poisoning. Who am I? Shouldn’t I at least remember my name? And an asteroid is going to hit Earth! What a great time to lose my memory. I should be with the ones I love right now, enjoying my last moments. If there even is anyone I love at all...

But yes. There is. Of that I can be sure. Because my heart is heavy with longing. If I close my eyes, I can recall the smells: earth, warm cookies fresh from the oven, snow. Coffee, pen ink, the scent of a new notebook, and a floral perfume. Those are the ones I should be with...

Or you should be doing something!, my conscience screams. But I don't understand. What can I do?

The first glimmers of light herald the new day, and outside, the roosters crow and the birds begin to wake up. I look around the room I’m in. It’s a small living room, but cozy and colorful. The sofa cover is made of various patches of different colors and patterns, meticulously sewn together. There are photos on the shelf, as well as decorative figurines of cute animals and little angels. On the wall, there's a portrait of a saint. Obviously, I don't know who she is. Maybe the Virgin Mary?

"You're already awake?"

I startle at Nuno's arrival, the oldest son, thinking I shouldn't have been surprised. "Actually, I couldn't sleep."

"Makes sense. The muriçocas, right? They love new blood. Later mainha can give you some cream to put on your skin."

"No, the mosquitoes didn't attack me. It's just that this all feels so surreal. The apocalypse. And I can't remember who I am."

"Maybe that's less painful. You'll die without missing everything you've lived or could have lived. Unlike us, who'll have to deal with regret."

"I don't know... I wish I were with my family and friends. Even without remembering them, I feel an emptiness."

Nuno nods. "But Superman will take care of everything, I guess. And then you'll be able to go back home. Actually, I think you have a kind of São Paulo way of saying your 'r's, so maybe you're from the interior of São Paulo, or Minas Gerais. You also curl your vowels a bit, so maybe you're from Rio...? Hmm, no, you're too polite to be from Rio de Janeiro. On the other hand, you say other vowels really fast, so I don't know what to think. At least not on an empty stomach! Come on, let's have breakfast."

“If I’m from any of those places, how did I end up so far away in Bahia? And what’s the story behind the hole where I woke up? Everyone said it wasn’t there before.”

"You woke up out there in the bush, near the hills. We know this whole area well, but our houses are a little farther out. And it's been thundering these past few days, like it usually does around this time between October and January. That hole could have been caused by a lightning strike. And someone with bad intentions threw you in there and you hit your head. Either that, or you really are a werewolf. As for how you ended up in Bahia, well, you’ll only know once you remember. You’ll need to go to the police station, but it’s far away. When Betinho gets back from town, he can give you a ride on his motorcycle. Want some little boob cuscuz?”

I blink. "Excuse me?"

Nuno laughs. "Cuscuz peitinho, you've never had it?"

Within a few minutes, we're both sitting at the table on the house's porch, eating a cuscuz – which, due to the shape of the pot it's made in, looks like a "little boob", or a peitinho – with fried eggs and a very sweet coffee to go with it. The cuscuz is made from corn flakes, which seems familiar to me. The coffee has so much sugar that it makes me think there's someone I know who wouldn't like it at all.

We eat while watching the sunrise, glorious above the hills and the great imposing rocks that tower over us. I was too nervous and confused a few hours ago when I climbed out of the crater, so I hadn't noticed the landscape under the moonlight, or the nature around us as we followed the oil lamps to the village. But it's very beautiful, full of low, green trees and others even lower, though quite dry. Bushes cover much of the ground, painting a contrast of various shades of green against the yellowish-orange earth and the vivid, clear blue of the sky. There are mandacarus and cacti everywhere, some small round ones with a pink top like a hat. The enormous rocks have various shapes – rounded, pointed, or flat. My heart races at the sight, and for some reason I long for the freedom to climb up to that height and jump.

My God, do I have suicidal tendencies? Is that how I ended up in that hole?

“Well, I’m heading out now. Unfortunately, seu Valdemir couldn’t care less about the end of the world, and I have to work on his farm anyway. But before I go, I’ll lend you some new clothes. You can’t stay in that faded shirt all day. I’ll give you a much nicer one.”

The much nicer shirt he was referring to is a soccer team uniform. The colors are red, blue, and white, and again, it feels so familiar that I can almost grasp the memory, but it slips away before I can.

"It's Bahia's jersey. And the team's mascot is Superman, so it's for good luck."

Then Nuno finishes getting ready, says goodbye, and leaves – not before handing me a stack of crossword puzzles and Turma da Mônica comic books to keep me entertained. It's fun. I solve the crosswords with relative ease, which makes me annoyed at my brain for remembering useless trivia when I can't even remember my own name. I decide to read the Monica's Gang comics, and they're quite fun. The main characters are a girl with big teeth who's very strong and feisty, a boy with five strands of hair who's for some reason always coming up with elaborate plans to become the boss of the street, a boy who never takes a shower, and a girl who eats too much. When I'm laughing at a scene, seu Conrado and dona Terezinha get up and ignore my protests that I've already eaten, forcing me to have a second breakfast. At least this time it's nothing as heavy as the cuscuz, just boiled plantains and avoador, or “flying” cookies, which are very light and have a cheese-like taste.

"Did you remember anything during your sleep, son?" asks dona Terezinha, serving me another piece of boiled plantain, ignoring my timid attempt to refuse.

"You mean, did I dream of anything? No. Actually, I couldn't sleep. I was feeling too restless."

"Oh, you poor boy. I prayed for you, for God to help you recover. You must be feeling so confused. I never thought you were a bad person, you know. You have the innocent look of someone with a good heart. I don't make mistakes about these things. But you have to stay alert, to see if God speaks to you during the day. He can speak in many ways.”

"Let's play some canasta, kid?" calls seu Conrado, standing up and keeping me from sinking into melancholy. Before I can give my usual answer, which is ‘I don't remember’, he continues: "I'll get the deck and we'll go out to the porch, and I'll teach you."

As we play – or rather, as I try to play – the little village comes to life. Chickens scratch at the ground, clucking, and a few dogs stretch out in the sun. The doors of most of the houses I can see swing open, revealing residents in different stages of readiness to start the day. From what I gathered yesterday, there must be about twenty houses here in total. They’re small and colorful, some surrounded by fences and banana, orange, and lemon trees, as well as flowers of all kinds. The flour mill is opened up, and a few workers head over there carrying buckets of cassava, but not without greeting us and stopping for a quick chat to ask how I'm doing.

“They’re very polite,” I remark to seu Conrado as they walk away.

“Polite,” seu Conrado teases, shuffling the cards with mastery. “They’re just a bunch of gossips, that’s what they are.”

More men show up to play with us, which means we have to borrow a table from the bar up front. Someone turns on a battery-powered radio to listen to music. The women sit nearby too, sewing or watching the game. The children split up between playing hide-and-seek or soccer. Just when I’m starting to feel more confident at canasta, one of the men suggests we play dominoes, and I’m clueless again, not to mention bothered by the extremely loud noise of the tiles being slammed down on the table. People start complaining about the heat, and yet they keep drinking from the flask of steaming coffee that dona Lourdes placed on the table. I think about pointing that out as a possible reason, but on second thought, maybe that wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. I'm content to feel normal regarding the temperature, even though I have the feeling that my Januaries aren't usually like this.

“Oh, no, Wolf, that won't do,” Tapioca scolds me, laughing. They started calling me Wolf for lack of a better name, since apparently I'm almost a werewolf. “Is this the eighth time you've lost, or what? You can’t handle this – it's a game for malandros, tricksters.”

“Poor boy, he’s so nice he can’t even play dominoes,” comments dona Terezinha. I’m not sure if that’s a criticism or not, but from the way she gives an affectionate pat on my hair, I'd say it isn't.

And so, I'm kicked out of the dominoes table, which is absurd considering this whole game session only started because seu Conrado wanted to teach me canasta. Eliana, a woman around forty who apparently is a dominoes-obsessed monster, is the one who replaces me, and immediately they return to the very noisy ritual of shuffling the tiles before starting the game.

Seeing me excluded by my former companions, Marcos comes over to me, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Come play soccer with us. It’s pretty simple, but I’ll explain the rules.”

The teenagers and kids on both teams welcome me warmly, even Ratão, the tall guy who left the game so I could join in. I’m on the team with Marcos, Beijuzinho – Tapioca’s son –, Caíque, and Formiga, a girl who’s very short for her fifteen years. We’re playing against Pedro, Paçoca, Guto, Capitu, and Maicon. Even though the oldest among them, Pedro, is no more than eighteen, and I’m definitely around twenty-five, I’m easily dribbled past and left in the dust. To make things worse, I manage the feat of scoring three own goals, and suddenly my formerly friendly teammates aren't so friendly anymore.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a total klutz – a perna-de-pau.” Marcos gives me a pat on the shoulder. “I don’t think soccer’s going to work out.”

I sigh and head back toward the porch, sitting on the ground to enjoy the cool breeze. I wish I had something to occupy my mind, because now that I'm alone again, the anxiety over my memory loss returns like a tsunami wave. Just as I catch myself hoping for news from the outside world, I hear the sound of a motorcycle and some barking, and dona Lourdes shouts:

"Alberto is back!"

It looks like I’m finally going to get at least some of the answers I’ve been looking for.



Glossary:

Seu and dona: In informal contexts, we use seu to address an older man and dona to address an older woman.
Story to make a cow sleep: An absurd story that no one believes.
Clock hour: A completely redundant expression from my home state (Bahia) used when we want to emphasize the literal passage of time.
Oxe: A wildcard expression from Northeast Brazil. It can express surprise, disbelief, annoyance, or even agreement... it all depends on the tone and context.
Epa: An expression of surprise or sudden interruption. Similar to "whoa" or "hey."
Muriçoca: A type of biting mosquito.
Perna-de-pau (wooden leg): Someone who is terrible at soccer.
Malandro: Sometimes used in a negative sense, like "crook"; other times used in a more positive sense, like someone who is street-smart, and good at navigating tricky situations.
Macumba: An Afro-Brazilian religion, but historically it was used as a pejorative or prejudiced term. Some people still use it that way today.

Clarifying some nicknames:

Baiacu: Marcos's dog. The name means "pufferfish" in Portuguese.
Tapioca: A starch extracted from cassava, widely used in Brazilian cuisine.
Beijuzinho: Tapioca's son. The name is a diminutive of beiju, a type of cassava flatbread, another cassava-derived food.
Paçoca: A traditional Brazilian sweet made from ground peanuts and sugar.
Ratão: Means "big rat" in Portuguese.
Formiga: Means "ant" in Portuguese.
Capitu: A real name now, not a nickname. It became widely known because of a very famous female character from Brazilian literature.

And yes, my state's main team mascot has really been Superman since the 80s.



FDK thread

Chapter 2