Oh dear!
He huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But Dad, I can't just ignore people who need help; not when I can do something about it!”
Clark and Son?
It was unfair. His father was being completely stubborn and unreasonable, and the man had no right to tell him what to do.
Teenager, all right.
Costumes. Disguises. At once, the answer came to him. With a grin, he stepped into a nearby craft store.
Black cowl and a cape?
Would it work? It had to work. What would he call himself if people asked his name?
Capeman?
He was quite unprepared for the police chief's first question.
“Did you honestly think that would work?”
Huh.
“Son, do you remember the story I used to tell you when you were little? About the knight, the wizard, and the beautiful princess?”
Uuuu-oh.
“It was true,” his father said, softly. “The princess was your mother.” His dad brushed at a bit of condensation that had somehow formed under his mask, then pulled him in for a final hug and whispered, “Make us both proud, Lane.”
That’s an unfortunate turn of events, Mary! Clark really should have taken more care in cleaning up Lex’s remains.
Michael