Last time:
Clark

"So..." I looked around. "Do you have enough light to read?"

She nodded. "I think so. The moon is pretty bright."

"Then would you mind? Please. I don't know how much longer I can deal with the knot in my stomach."

She opened the folder and read the title aloud.

"He Didn't Have to Be: The Story of a Foundling, by Clark Jerome Davis Kent."


He Didn't Have To Be
*~*1*~*
May 1985
~~~~~
Martha
~~~~~

We were in the beat-up truck on our way home when we saw something flash across the sky. Curious, we waited to see if anything else was going to happen and when nothing did, we climbed the gate into Shuster's Field.

"What do you think it was?" I asked in excited, but hushed, tones.

He shook his head. "Beats me."

We hurried to the furrow whatever it was had dug into the earth.

There we found something we hadn't expected.

A tiny capsule lay there, and when I reached out to touch it, one side fell off. He reached towards the other side and the same thing happened, causing the top to lift with a hiss.


<A capsule? What kind of capsule could they have found? Space junk? Space... ship?>

I gasped then whispered, "It's a baby."

<A *baby*?! I tried to wrap my mind around that. Clark? Note to self: Ask Clark if he's an alien.>

He looked around furtively. "Well, we can't leave it here."

"This is not an 'it'," I said sternly.


<I smiled to myself. That sounded like Martha.>

"Well, can you tell if that's a boy or a girl through that plastic?"

"Well, no, but until we know for sure, we're going with 'he'."

"Fine. We can't leave him here."

"You're right. We'll take him with us."

"And do what with him?" he asked. "We can't leave him here, but which of us would take him home? And who would let either of us keep him?"

I sighed, tears welling up in my eyes. "I know. We're not married. They'd come and take him away and we'd never see him again. If anyone knew how we really found him, the government would lock him up and..." I choked up.

"...dissect him like a frog," he finished grimly.


<How... morbid! But how... safety conscious or something of Jonathan to want to protect Clark like that.>

"So what're we going to do?"

"Marry me."

"What?" I stared at him.

"You've been my best girl since we were five. We've talked about it; we just hadn't made it official yet. So let's do it. Oklahoma doesn't have a waiting period. We could run down there and get married this evening. By the time we get back, there won't be any reason for anyone to take him away from us. Unless his birth parents show up, and somehow I don't see that happening."


<That sounded so much like Clark and Lana, even though I knew it wasn't.>

I nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."

He hurried off and backed the truck into the field. Together, we managed to load the tiny craft into the bed and then covered it with a tarp, securing it as we went.

"Let's drop this off at the farm before we go. We'll go in the back way so no one will see us."

I nodded and climbed in beside him, still holding the tiny infant. "Let's go."

Several hours later, we stood in front of a judge in a small town just across the Oklahoma-Kansas border. We'd had to urge him away from his favorite prime time comedy, but managed to convince him that a dear friend had died that day and wanted to leave her baby with us, but since we weren't yet married, we were afraid that the Kansas Division of Child Services would take him away. We'd planned on marrying, we said, just not this quickly. And that was the truth.

Reluctantly he'd agreed and we exchanged vows. It had happened too quickly to have rings to exchange as well, but he promised as soon as we got home, he'd break out the engagement ring he'd kept hidden for the last six months and we'd go to town to get wedding bands tomorrow.

"By the power vested in me by the state of Oklahoma, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You are now Mr. and Mrs. Christopher and Martha Davis."


<Christopher Davis? What about Jonathan?>

~*~

I held the baby while he sucked hungrily on another bottle of formula. When we'd stopped at the house to hide the ship, I'd fixed a bottle from the supplies my now sister-in-law left at the house for their bi-weekly visits. I'd guessed he was about three months old and had fixed him a six ounce bottle. He'd finished it in no time flat and it had taken another eight ounces to fill him up. Space travel must have left him hungry.


<Space travel? They'd seen a light and saw a capsule, but space travel? Was it a space ship? Was he... an alien? Was it even Clark they were talking about?>

Chris sat beside me on the couch and wrapped one arm around me pulling me and the baby close to him.

"What should we name him?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. What do you think?" I turned slightly and kissed his jaw.

He swallowed hard. "None of that until that little guy's in bed and then there's going to be some time for me and my bride." He pulled us a little closer.


<How hard must that have been for Clark to write?>

"You better believe there is." I knew my eyes twinkled at him. "So what do you want to name him?"

"How about after your family?"

"Like what?"

"Clark."


<It *was* Clark in that... capsule or whatever!>

"My maiden name," I said slowly then grinned. "My *maiden* name. It's not my name anymore."

"Nope. You're a Davis now."

"I like it." I gently stroked the tiny cheek still working vigorously on the bottle. "Clark Davis."

"What about a middle name?"

"Jerome," I said without hesitation.

"After my dad?" Tears filled his eyes.

"Yeah," I answered quietly. "He would have loved to see his new grandson."

"That he would have. He never quite forgave Jenny for having girls. Of course, he was wrapped completely around their little fingers from about two minutes after they were born."

"He loved them, but you have four sisters. He wanted another little boy in the family."

"We'll have to get Doc Johnson to help get a birth certificate and stuff. What's our official story going to be?"

"An old friend of mine from college dropped him off on your doorstep. I saw her earlier today but had no idea what she was planning on doing. There were a couple of strangers in town today so no one should question it. She left a note, asking us to protect her identity and take care of her baby. We went to Oklahoma and got married. Everyone knows we've always planned to so... But, for some reason, she didn't explain in the note, she didn't have a birth certificate or anything for him." I'd thought about it a lot on the way to Oklahoma – even working out the wording of the note in my head. I'd have to write it soon, disguising my handwriting as I did, of course.

"That works." He watched as I gently extracted the now empty bottle from the mouth of his now sleeping *son*. I lifted him to my shoulder and gently patted his back until he burped.

"Will you get that laundry basket? I put an old, flat pillow in the bottom of it and it'll work for a bassinet until we can get some real furniture."

He nodded and moved to get the basket off of *our* bed.

A few minutes later, little Clark was sound asleep, one fist in his mouth, still wearing only a diaper we'd absconded from Chris's sister's stash. "We need to get him some clothes," he whispered as I set the basket in the living room, near the door to the room we would now share. He glanced at the clock. "It's eleven o'clock. Do you need to call home?"

I shook my head. "I don’t want to deal with my parents right now." I rested a hand lightly on his chest. "Right now, I want to get to know my new husband better." I smiled shyly at him.


<I shuddered a bit on Clark's behalf. I knew in a vague way that my parents had done those kinds of things, but I had no intention of *writing* about them.>

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I've been ready since the first time you kissed me when I was sixteen." I moved closer to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Make me your wife in every sense, Chris," I whispered.

~*~

We lay in our newly shared bed, resting quietly in the afterglow of something magical when the loud clanging of a bell halfway across town shook us from our quiet reflection. I fingered the engagement ring he'd slid onto my finger just before we'd made love for the first time.

He jumped from the bed and pulled on his jeans. "I gotta go, honey."

"I know."

Chris was a part of the volunteer fire brigade and when the bell rang – no matter the time of day or night – they had to go. He leaned over and gave me a long, lingering kiss. "Take care of that boy of mine while I'm gone." He winked at me and moved to the phone. He picked it up to hear Rob Miller and Darren Johnson already on the party line. He confirmed the location then kissed me – his new bride – again. "It's out at the Irig place. It'll probably be light before I get back."


<I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as he kissed Martha.>

"Okay."

He kissed me again. "I love you, Martha Davis."

"I love you, too."

~*~

There was a knock on the door as I fried an egg. Clark had woken up not long after Chris left and taken another big bottle. We'd slept for a little over four hours after that. The sunlight streaming in the window had kept me from sleeping much longer. I rarely slept late, but after the unusual exertions of the day before – finding a baby and hiding a spaceship and a trip to Oklahoma and becoming man and wife – I could have slept for a couple more hours without much trouble, but Clark decided it was time to play for a bit after his seven am bottle. I wrote that note and decided it was time to eat while I waited for Chris to come back.

Clark was lying on the floor on a quilt Chris's grandmother had made for us, knowing we'd marry someday but that she wouldn't likely be around to see it.

I smiled at him as he studied his fingers intently and then moved to the door.

I opened it to find a very somber Wayne Irig standing there with his hat in his hand.

My hand went immediately to my stomach and I stumbled backwards. I'd seen that look too many times.


<Oh, God. That's what I'd been afraid of. My heart broke for Martha – even though I knew she'd end up happy with Jonathan eventually.>

"No," I whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Martha. He told us that you two had run off and got married yesterday and that he'd tell us the rest of the story later." He twisted the hat he held in his hands. "He saved Josh." His voice broke. "He saved my son. He made it to the back bedroom and threw a sheet down to us. He managed to wrap Josh in another sheet and lower him far enough out the window that he could drop him onto the sheet he'd tossed to us. Josh is going to be fine, but the ceiling collapsed before..." He couldn’t go on.


<Tears flowed down my cheeks as I read. Chris had been a hero, in more ways than one.>

I had backed away from Wayne as he spoke until I collapsed into the chair in the living room. A small cry from the baby on the floor gave me something else to focus my attention on. "Oh, Clark," I cried. "Your daddy..." I clutched the baby to me and rocked back and forth.

"Rob took the liberty of calling on your folks to tell them and Darren was heading over to Jenny's house – Chris said his mom was over there last night. I'd imagine they'll be here soon." He looked at the ground. "I gotta get back to my Maggie and Josh, but if you need anything, Martha, please call us. We owe Chris so much and if there's anything..."

I nodded, unable to find the words.

As Wayne turned to leave, I stopped him. "Wayne, would you have Doc Johnson stop by if you see him? I need to have him look at Clark here."

Wayne nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'll go find him before I head home."

"Thank you."

~*~

My parents arrived not long after Wayne left and found me still sitting in the chair rocking baby Clark. I refused to explain until Chris's family arrived. When they did a few minutes later, I managed, between tears and refusals to let go of the baby, to tell them the story we'd concocted about a friend of mine from college in Oklahoma. The marriage itself wasn't a surprise to anyone, only the suddenness of it.

Over the next few days, the house was packed up – I knew I couldn’t stay there by myself, not with a baby to care for. And Chris' mom and sister, Deborah, and her husband still lived in the bigger house across the farmyard so the farm would be taken care of. I'd agonized over what to do with the spaceship we'd found Clark in, but finally decided that Wayne owed us. I'd covered it completely with tarps and called Wayne over. He'd built a big crate around it and hid it on his farm, never asking for more information than I was willing to give him.

<I wondered what had happened to it and if Clark would actually let me see it sometime.>

I moved back into the room on my parents' farm that I'd abandoned for only a few days. I spent most of my time with Clark, rarely venturing out except to shop with my mother for necessities for him and church on Sundays. The active social life Chris and I had enjoyed disappeared and my world revolved around the tiny baby that had literally fallen from the sky.

~*~*~
September 1989
~*~*~

"Clark Jerome Davis! Get back in here!" I hollered out the door.

The dark haired four-year-old trudged silently in from the barn.

<I found myself smiling a bit. I'd bet Clark was a cute four-year-old. Maybe Martha would show me some pictures.>

"What do you think you're doing, young man?"

He hung his head. "Sorry, Mama."

"You're a mess. I don't have time to give you another bath before I leave, which means that Nana is going to do it."

"Aw, Mama, you give better baths." He frowned.

I smiled at that, too. Daddy had always given better baths at our house. Mom never let us play as much as Daddy did.>

"Well, I gave you one earlier. You know better than to go play in the barn after you've had a bath."

He scuffed a well-worn shoe against the wood of the porch. "Sorry, Mama."

I smiled. "It's okay, Clark. Come here." I pulled him close to my leg as he wrapped his arms around it and rested his head on my hip. "But it means that Nana is going to have to give you another bath and you need to be good for her."

"She doesn't let me play battleships," he pouted.

"I know, but that's because she doesn't have the energy to keep up with a four-year-old at bath time anymore."

Clark sighed. "Where're you goin', Mama? Why can't you stay with me? You can be my best girl."

I squatted down until I was at eye level with him. "I'll always be your best girl, son, but tonight, that nice Mr. Smith from the next county asked your Mama to go to a movie with him."

"Can I go? Please, Mama." His large brown eyes pleaded with me. "I'll be good. I promise."

I smiled at him. "Not tonight. Maybe another time."

He glared at me and stomped off to his room.

My mother sat in her rocking chair next to the open window in the living room. I knew she'd heard every word.

"I'm sorry you're going to have to give him another bath, but he can't go to church in the morning looking like that," I told her.

"I know, dear. Me and my arthritis might even let him play battleships for a while, if he's good between now and then." Mom smiled at me. "So, tell me about Mr. Smith."

"His first name is Andrew and he seems like a nice man."

"Is he picking you up?"

I shook my head. "I'm meeting him at Maisie's. Maisie's picking me up here in a little while and we're going to the movies with her and Rob."

"Is he going to bring you home?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"You didn't tell him about Clark yet, did you?" my mother asked gently.

<I paused for a minute. That would be hard. How would you tell someone that your son was an... alien?>

I sighed. "No. I didn't. Most everyone from around here knows about him, but Andrew isn't from here. He's from far enough away that he doesn't know our story." I didn't wilt under my mother's disapproving stare. "I will tell him. There's no point in a second date if he's not willing to even consider raising another man's son."

We turned as we heard a car coming up the road.

"That's Maisie. I'll be home later. Thanks, Mom." I kissed her mom's forehead. "Clark!" I called. "I'm leaving. Come here."

Clark came running down the stairs. "Don't go, Mama." He buried his head in my leg. "I promise; I won't play in the barn anymore."

<My heart broke for the little boy Clark had been.>

I knelt down on the floor. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Please don't go. I'll be a good boy." His bottom lip quivered.

I tipped his chin up with her finger. "You are a good boy. You're my best boy. And I'll be home tonight. You'll be asleep, but I'll be home *long* before you wake up, okay?"

Clark nodded.

"You be good for Nana, okay?"

Clark nodded again then wrapped his arms around my neck. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too." I returned the hug and gave him a big kiss before straightening up and heading for the door.

~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~

I watched as Mama climbed into the truck with Miss Maisie. I'd heard what she said to Nana. Why was she going out with this Mr. Smith if she didn't think he'd want to... what was it she'd said? Raise another man's son. Why wouldn't Mr. Smith want to help take care of me? I was a good boy, even if I did forget and play in the barn sometimes when I wasn't supposed to.

<I wanted to giggle. That sounded like Clark.>

Pete had a daddy. They ran the grocery store in town. So did Lana – her daddy was the mayor and Rachel's daddy was the sheriff. Josh's daddy was a farmer like Pop Pop was. And Pop Pop was Mama's daddy, but I didn't have a daddy. Well, Mama said my daddy died a very long time ago when I was too little to remember it but that he'd loved me very much.

<I frowned. Lana. I should have known she'd be mentioned in here somewhere, but – given what he'd said in the car – I wasn't expecting it until the wedding bit, whenever that was.>

I was a good boy and my Nana let me play battleships for a few minutes in the bathtub. I was sound asleep when a noise woke me up.

Mama's laughter wafted up from the porch and through my open window. A man's voice joined hers. That must be the nice Mr. Smith. I wanted to meet him.

I climbed out of bed and walked quietly down the stairs. I reached the open screen door and pushed on it.

"Mama, can I sit with you for a little while?" I asked rubbing my eyes.

"Clark," she exclaimed. "What are you doing up? You're supposed to be in bed, young man."

I shuffled to her side. "I'm sorry, Mama. I heard you laughing and wanted to come sit with you is all."

She smiled and held out her arm. I walked readily into her embrace. "Andrew, this is my son, Clark. Clark, this is Mr. Smith."

I held out a small hand. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith." Just like I'd been taught.

"It's nice to meet you, Clark."

Martha smoothed my hair back out of my face. "Why don't you run on upstairs and I'll tuck you in when I come up?"

"Okay." I moved back inside and climbed back in bed. Voices came through the window but I couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

A few minutes later, Mama was sitting on the side of my bed as the sound of gravel indicated that Mr. Smith was leaving.

"Did you have fun, Mama?" I asked with a yawn.

"I had a nice time." She pushed that one lock of hair back off my forehead.

<I wondered what she wasn't telling him.>

"Are you going to see him again?"

"Oh, I don't know. He lives awfully far away from your Nana's house so I don't know that things would work with him."

"What kind of work? Like on a farm?"

<I smiled at the way a four-year-old's mind worked.>

"Yes, he works on a farm, but it's a long ways from here."

"Oh."

"Get some sleep, little man."

"Good night, Mama."

"Good night, Clark." She pulled the blanket up around me and pressed a kiss to my forehead before leaving.

~~~~~
Martha
~~~~~

After church the day after my date with Andrew Smith, Clark was lying in his bed playing with his toy cars. He was really supposed to be napping but as long as he was quiet I didn't mind.

I closed the door and went downstairs to sit on the couch. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

"How was your evening, dear?"

"You don't waste any time, do you, Mom?"

"No. Life's too short to waste time."

"Yeah," I said softly, thinking of the time Chris and I had wasted. We should have gotten married the minute I got home from college in December instead of waiting another six months after that. "That it is."

"So?"

"The evening was very nice until we were chatting on the porch and Clark came out."

"He was up?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He heard us laughing and came down."

"Had you told him about Clark yet?"

"No."

"How'd he take it?"

I sighed. "Not well. He made some... derogatory remarks about him and his father. I told him that it was none of his business at this point and if he stuck around long enough and I thought it might be going somewhere, he'd get the whole story but not until then. I only told him that I'd been married to a wonderful man who died saving a little boy's life. He made another rude comment and I told him he'd better leave before he found himself walking funny for the next week."

<That sounded like Martha. Poor Mr. Smith probably didn't know what hit him.>

"I'm so sorry, dear."

I shrugged. "If someone isn't willing to accept my son, he's not worth my time." We sat for another minute before I continued. "You know, in some ways it was more like a job interview than a date. He may not have realized that but it was – an interview for the job as Clark's dad. If he isn't willing and able to that job, there's no way he's going to end up being my husband."

"There's someone out there for you, dear. I know there is."

"Maybe. But maybe Chris was it. I'd rather have Clark any day of the week than someone who doesn't understand that it's possible to love someone else's child as though he were your own. Clark wasn't Chris' son either – and he's not mine, biologically – but that doesn't matter to me and it didn't matter to Chris."

"Mama?"

My eyes grew suddenly wide. "Clark? You're supposed to be lying down."

<My eyes grew wide, too. Clark overheard that?>

"I know but I need some water. What do you mean I'm not Chris's son? I thought Chris was my daddy and you're my Mama." His lower lip quivered and the big brown eyes filled with tears.

"Come sit with me." I patted the couch next to me. When he was curled up next to me, I continued. "Clark, sometimes when a mom and dad have a baby, they can't take care of him well enough and so they give him to someone else who can take care of him. One day, when you were very little, your mom and dad realized that they couldn't take care of you and so they gave you to me and Chris because they knew how much we would love you and how well we could take care of you."

<My eyes filled with tears. I didn't know why Clark's parents had shipped him off – or if there was some other reason for it – but the way Martha explained it...>

"But Chris went away." His voice still trembled.

"You know your friend Josh?"

He nodded.

"Well, one night – the same night you came to live with us – Chris had to go help fight a fire at Josh's house. Josh was just a tiny baby, like you were at the time. Chris went into the house even though it was on fire and he saved baby Josh."

"Why didn't he get out?"

I shook my head. "There wasn't time. He saved Josh, but he couldn’t save himself. He loved you and he loved me very much, but he had to leave us."

"What about my other mom and dad?"

"They loved you very much, but for some reason, they couldn’t take care of you and they wanted to make sure that you were taken care of so they sent you to us."

"Will you always take care of me, Mama? Or are you going to send me away too?"

I hugged him a little tighter. "I'm always going to take care of you. I'm not ever going to send you away."

"Not even if you can't find someone who wants to live with us and be my daddy? You won't send me away so you can find a grown up man?"

I turned his head until he looked me in the eye. "Clark, if a grown up man doesn't want to be your daddy, then he's not man enough to live with us. Ever. I wouldn't ever marry someone who doesn't love you as much as I do and if I never find someone like that, I have you and that's more important. I love you more than I love the idea of being married again."

<That sounded like Martha, too. Could I be that kind of mom? Would I be when Clark left after the baby's fifth birthday?>

"You were married to my daddy?"

"Yes, I was, sweetheart."

"And you loved him?"

"Very much."

<I wouldn't be able to say that, though. Would I? Would I love Clark and he'd leave us anyway? Would he love us by then? And not leave?>

"Do you think there's another man out there who would love both of us?"

"I don't know, sweetie. But until we find one, it's you and me okay?"

He nodded. "And Nana and Pop Pop."

I laughed. "And Nana and Pop Pop."

*****
TBC