I’ve decided to abandon my Saturday posting schedule in favor of more frequent posts. However, the fact that I’ve given an approximate number of chapters left does not mean that I’m nearly finished writing. It’s more that I got bored and ended up putting together a very brief outline of what is left that enabled me to guess how many chapters are coming.
Still, I have a fair amount of buffer built up, so as long as I can keep up with the new, more frequent schedule, expect a new post every three days. That may alter by a day or two depending on my schedule. For example, I’m not sure I’ll be online this Saturday or Sunday, so the next post may be Monday instead.
As always, thanks to my wonderful betas – Beth, Carol, and Mark.
From Chapter 19
The smell of smoke brought him out of his thoughts. What was that? Clark turned around in confusion and in horror saw the couch in the room he had been in before on fire. Lying on the ground was a candlestick, the candle itself nearly melted. Clark looked at the ground. He had probably knocked it over on his way in.
He heard a cough behind him and remembered his father. He may be fine in this room although it was rapidly filling with smoke, but his father was not.
He moved closer and scooped his father up in his arms. He bent at the waist, trying to keep as much of his father covered as possible as he ran through the door and out of the warehouse. As soon as he was out of the door, he took to the skies and flew his father home.
It was only as they landed that Jonathan seemed to wake up. “Clark?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dad,” Clark whispered as he came in the door. He looked up and caught sight of his mother. Her eyes were on his father and as she took in his leg, they grew wide.
“Jonathan,” she said and Clark could hear the tears in her voice as she came closer. “Are you all right?”
“I’m a bit sore,” he said in reply as Clark placed him on the couch, “but I’m okay. Those goons didn’t know who they were dealing with,” he joked, but the smile on his face turned to a grimace as he tried to sit up and fell back with a thud.
Clark was distracted, though. The goons. He had forgotten about the men upstairs. Without a word, he flew out the backdoor, but by the time he got back to the warehouse, there was nothing much left. With a sweep of his eyes, Clark saw the form of two bodies lying on the stairs. They had apparently noticed the smoke too late to get out.
His parents seemed almost happy about it later, glad that who ever was after their boy was no longer a problem, but Clark was troubled. He had not meant to kill them. Maybe his parents were right and it was better this way, but still – how could he have been so careless?
For a few days after that, things around the farm were tense, but eventually his father’s bruises healed, he stopped needing so much help from Wayne to run the farm, and life moved on.
It had been so hard to think about for so long. Now that he remembered, he was surprised. It explained so much – Jason Trask from several months ago, for one. He must have been part of the same group. The fear at trying to fill in for Superman – he had not understood at the time why he was so worried about getting caught. Now, he understood. He had not realized that memories could be repressed that deeply, nor that if they were repressed they could still have such an effect on your psyche.
With a shudder he realized he was lucky that whoever Trask’s predecessors had been had not had some of the green rock Wayne had found on his farm. If they had, who knows what may have happened to his father.
Chapter 20
“Are you okay, Clark?” Lois asked for the fourth time since they had left his place.
“Yes, Lois. I’m fine,” Clark said. “Really. But thanks for asking.”
Lois glanced at him briefly before letting her eyes drift back to the road. “You do look better. Tired, though.”
“I am a little tired,” Clark said, “but okay.”
“Did you have another nightmare?” Lois asked.
Clark shook his head, not wanting to tell her that he had not had another nightmare as he had stayed up all night thinking about the first one and the subsequent memory. Besides, that was the last of them, he suspected. He felt like he had been trying not to think about what had happened to his father for years now. While it was hard to remember, he felt a little bit like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Are you coming?” Lois asked, looking at him pointedly.
Clark glanced around and realized they were at the Irig’s place. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, opening the car door.
“Maybe you should head to bed early tonight,” Lois said.
“’Morning, Clark. Ms. Lane,” Alice said as the two approached.
“Good morning, Mrs. McCurty,” Clark said with a smile.
“I’m afraid we still don’t know where Wayne went,” she told them.
“That’s okay,” Lois said. “We actually had a different question. We received this list of sites currently being investigated by the EPA and Smallville isn’t on it.”
Alice looked at the page in confusion. Then, carefully avoiding Clark’s eyes, she said, “Well, sometimes it takes awhile for the government to update these things. Here’s the updated version of that list.” She handed Lois a piece of paper.
Lois looked at it, before handing it to Clark. “It’s there.” Turning to Alice McCurty, she asked, “And you said still no word on where Irig went?”
“No,” Alice said, still avoiding Clark’s eyes. “He has family in Oklahoma City. Maybe he headed there.”
“Thanks,” Lois said, but Clark said nothing.
When he got back in the car, though, he turned to Lois. “Did you see how she kept avoiding looking at me?”
Lois shook her head. “No, why?”
“It was weird. What if she’s lying?” Clark said.
“Why would she lie? She lives here, right?” Lois said.
“What if she’s in over her head?” Clark asked. “Mrs. McCurty lost her daughter a few years ago. She’s been taking care of her grandson, Tory, since she died. Tory is all the family she has left. If someone was to threaten him…”
Lois sighed. “This is getting interesting,” she said, but her voice was sad. “All the more incentive for figuring what’s going on here. Right, partner?”
************************
“Well, that settles it,” Clark said as they took a seat at the booth. “The records at City Hall certainly make it seem like there is no record of Wayne using pesticides. They are after something else.” He tried not to shudder as he worried that what they were after was more of the rock Wayne had found.
Just then Lois’ cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and not recognizing the number, she decided to let it go to voicemail. “Wrong number,” she told Clark. “I’ve been getting them all the time since I got the new phone.”
Clark nodded as he looked at the menu. “I’ll have a burger and fries,” he told the waitress.
“What?” Lois asked when the waitress had left. “You don’t know her? Don’t you know everyone in town?”
Clark shrugged, smiling. “Mostly, but not everyone. I haven’t lived here full time since high school,” he reminded her.
“Right,” she said as the waitress came back to place their food in front of them. “Wow! That was fast.”
“Maisie’s husband’s the fastest short order cook in the county,” Clark told her, smiling.
“Maisie?” Lois asked.
“Maisie,” Clark confirmed, pointing to the menu which said “Maisie’s Café” in big letters across the front.
“Oh, right,” Lois replied. Eyeing the burger on his plate and the BLT on hers, she commented, “They sure don’t skimp on portions here, do they?”
Clark smiled. “Farmers can work up quite an appetite,” he explained as he picked up his knife to cut his burger in two. “It’s best to just give up and admit you need to cut the sandwiches. That’s why they give you these steak knives.” He glanced at Lois and grinned before calling out, “Ow!”
Dropping his knife on his plate, he looked at his hand in horror. “I’m bleeding,” he exclaimed.
“Of course you’re bleeding. You cut yourself with a steak knife,” Lois said, rolling her eyes. A minute later, though, Clark was still staring at his hand in fascination. “Are you okay, Clark?”
Before he could reply, the waitress came back. “Oh my,” she said when she saw his finger. “I’ll go get you a Band-Aid.” She was back a minute later and using a napkin to clean his finger, she wrapped the Band-Aid around the small cut. Then pouring them more water, she left.
Clark looked at the bandage on his hand in awe.
“Earth to Clark,” Lois said. “Geez, it’s like you’d never cut yourself before. Now eat up so we can back over to the Corn Festival and mingle.”
************************
“We’ve got to get you to a doctor,” Martha said to Clark, while Jonathan smiled at the sight of Lois asking questions of everyone she saw at the fair.
“What are they going to do, Mom?” Clark asked. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m normal.”
“That’s not normal for you!” she insisted.
“I don’t think it will last,” Clark said.
“What won’t last?” Jonathan asked, finally tuning in to the conversation.
“The loss of powers. I think Superman would have warned me if that was the case,” Clark said.
“What if he doesn’t know?” Martha asked.
Rather than answer, Clark took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. He sat in silence for a few seconds, hoping Superman was not out doing a rescue.
“Hi!” he said in excitement when he heard the phone being picked up.
“Hi. This is Clark.” Superman said quietly.
“Huh?” Clark said in confusion. “This is Clark.”
He heard a sigh of relief on the other end. “Sorry, Clark. I just… Well, I can’t really answer the phone saying ‘This is Superman’, can I?”
Clark laughed, “No, I guess not. At least not if we don’t want reporters as our constant neighbors.”
“How are you?” Superman asked, sounding concerned. “You sound well.”
“I’m okay,” Clark said. “But I’m… well,… I’m normal.”
“I know,” Superman said quietly. “But you are feeling better, right?”
“Yeah. I’m just wondering... This isn’t permanent, is it? I mean, I know I always wanted to be normal, but now that I am…” Clark said, his voice quiet so that no one but his parents could hear him.
“I know,” Superman said with compassion in his voice. “Now that you don’t have your powers, you feel like part of you is missing. It’s tough. But… well, I don’t see any reason why you can’t know now – they should come back. Mine did, anyway.”
Clark sighed. “I figured so, since you seemed to know this was going to happen and clearly you have yours…”
“It’ll take a day or two more, though,” Superman said. “I can’t remember how many days I was in Smallville before they came back, but I know it was before I left.”
“That’s okay,” Clark said. “I don’t really need them anyway. It’s just good to know I’ll have them again.”
“Yeah, I remember. It was scary not knowing,” Superman said.
“Very,” Clark admitted. “Thanks, Superman,” he said. “Really.”
“No problem, Clark. Call again if you have other questions, although I don’t know what I can answer for you,” Superman said.
“Thanks, Superman,” Clark said. “And not just for this. I don’t know that I’ve said it at all before, but really. Thank you for everything.”
“What’s he doing?” Lois asked, as she took a seat at the table with the Kents.
“What’s who doing?” Clark asked, hoping she had not heard the end of his conversation.
“Superman,” Lois said. “Why’d you thank him?”
She had heard. Of course, she had. She was Lois Lane. What did he expect?
“Oh, just for watching the apartment,” Clark said, evasively.
“But… but, it’s his apartment, too,” Lois said. “Why wouldn’t he watch it?”
“Well, he’s just…” Clark tried to think of anything, anything at all, to tell her, and finally finished lamely with, “checking on my room while I’m gone.”
“What?” Lois laughed. “You afraid someone is going to come in and steal your prized collection of To Kill a Mockingbirds?” Clark blushed, and before he could respond, Lois continued with a smirk. “I think the one you managed to get that was published in Swahili is worth a small fortune.”
“Hey! That’s a first edition!” Clark said with pride.
“How many editions of To Kill a Mockingbird are there printed in Swahili?” Lois asked, schooling her features so she would not laugh.
“One,” Clark mumbled. “But,” he continued, looking her squarely in the eye, “it’s a great book. There are bound to be more.”
“Really? Does anyone still speak Swahili?” Lois asked.
Clark rolled his eyes and glared at his parents when he realized they were shaking with laughter. “Actually, nearly ten million people speak it,” he said. “And you should know that,” he said, looking at Lois pointedly, “since many of those people are in the Democratic Republic of the Congo,” he said, sitting back in his chair smugly.
Lois had the good grace to blush.
************************
Lois and Clark wandered around the fair, Lois stopping every few feet to ask some unsuspecting stranger about Wayne. As they got closer to the small bandstand, though, it got louder and more difficult to talk to the passersby.
Lois fished her phone out of her pocket and seeing that she had a message, tugged on Clark’s arm to move him a little further away where she could hear better. A moment later she slammed her phone shut, glaring at it angrily.
“What?” Clark asked.
“That phone call,” Lois said. “The one that came while we were eating that I decided not to get?”
“The wrong number?”
“Yeah, that one. It wasn’t a wrong number. It was Wayne Irig,” Lois grumbled.
“It was?” Clark asked. “Let’s call him back.”
“Can’t,” Lois said, clearly annoyed. “He called from a pay phone. Said he was on his way to Oklahoma City just like Mrs. McCurty said. We just can’t catch a break, can we?”
Clark looked disappointed to, as they resumed their walk towards the bandstand. Clark smiled at his parents, who were in the group of dancers. Tilting his head towards them, he asked Lois, “Want to give it a whirl?”
“Huh?” Lois asked, distracted by her thoughts of the missed call.
“If we can’t call Wayne back, let’s just take an evening off. I’m asking you to dance. I can teach you the steps to the Tush Push. It’s not hard,” Clark said.
“I know how to Tush Push,” Lois said, still sounding annoyed, as she pushed past him to join the line.
A few minutes later, Clark looked at her in surprise. “You really do know how to Tush Push! And, hey, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were having fun. Do you have a secret love of line dancing, Lois?”
Lois rolled her eyes at him. “Of course not. But it can be fun. With the right person.”
“I hope you don’t think this is too dorky,” Chad said as he held open the door for her. “My cousin lives in Tennessee and I went line dancing with him once. It was fun, so when I heard they were offering lessons here, I thought it would be fun, and more interesting than going to the movies.”
“It sounds fun,” Lois said, unable to concentrate on anything he said when he smiled as she followed the movement of his dimple up and down. He was so cute!
An hour later, she was breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear. “Are you having a good time?” Chad asked her as they took a break.
“Yes,” Lois said, enthusiastically. “It really is fun.”
“Wait until you try the Tush Push,” Chad said.
“The what?” Lois asked, laughing.
“The tush push,” Chad replied, grinning. “I know. Funny name, isn’t it? But it is really fun. Do you want anything to drink?”
“Just some water,” Lois said, thanking him a minute later when he handed her a bottle.
“So, I thought we could go for dinner or something after this,” Chad said, looking nervous. “Unless you just want to go home or something.”
“I’d love to go to dinner!” Lois exclaimed, and then blushing, she restated her words to sound less excited. “I mean… I’d like that.”
Chad’s smile could have lit up the room and Lois was once again distracted by his dimple.
“Hello! Lois! Lois, are you there?” Clark waved a hand in front of her face.
“Of course I’m here, Clark! Where else would I be?” she said in reply, sounding annoyed. The truth is she had been so focused on remembering those lessons with Chad, she had forgotten where she was.
Clark suddenly grabbed her arm and tugged her towards him. “Well, you stopped dancing. Nealen almost ploughed right into you.”
Lois glanced to her left and saw a man in his forties trying to get back on step to recover from the missed step he took to avoid Lois. She smiled at him, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“No problem, ma’am,” he smiled at her.
“Thanks, Nealen,” Clark said, moving his grasp on Lois’ arm down to her hand to tug her off the dance floor.
“Are you okay?” he asked when they were out of everyone’s way.
Lois pulled her hand out of his, feeling annoyed at him, but not sure why. “I’m fine, Clark!”
Clark looked at her closely, his brows furrowed. “Really?”
Lois turned to him ready to snap, but took in the look in his eyes and softened. It really was not his fault she was thinking about Chad. “Yeah, Clark. I’m okay. Sorry about that. I was distracted.”
“Want to talk about it?” he asked, his eyes still watching her with concern.
“Not really,” Lois said. “What I was thinking about was a long time ago, Clark. It’s not important.”
“If it’s important to you then it’s important to me,” Clark said earnestly.
Lois smiled a bit. Clark really was a farm boy. No one else could pull that line off without sounding either scary or sickly sweet. “I was just thinking of when I learned to Tush Push. It was on my first date.”
“You learned to Tush Push on your first date?” Clark asked in surprise. “I thought you grew up in Metropolis.”
“I did,” Lois smiled. “Chad was not your normal Metropolis boy.”
“Oh,” Clark said. But then a moment later, added “Chad, huh? The name of the boy you went on your first date with was Chad?”
Lois’ smile weakened. “He was my first boyfriend,” she said quietly.
“Did it end poorly?” Clark asked, placing a warm hand on Lois’ arm.
Lois looked away, trying to find the right words. Finally she turned back to Clark, “Don’t all relationships end poorly?”
There was a sheen of tears in her eyes and seeing the glimmer of them, Clark used the hand he had on her arm to pull her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering, “I guess. Until you get married.”
“Not all marriages,” she said into his chest. Clark tightened his grip on her.
Lois stood there a moment, lost someplace between thinking about Chad and realizing that she felt comforted and safe in Clark’s embrace. A moment more though, and she felt in control of her emotions. “Let’s walk,” she said firmly as she pulled out of Clark’s embrace.
“Sounds good,” Clark said, moving to place his hand in hers, but Lois moved her hand just slightly away. Clark’s embrace was nice, but that was just because she had been feeling depressed. It did not mean she wanted to hold his hand.
