Chapter 11: They Didn’t Cover This in the Course

Kara found that on her second day with super-hearing, she was much better at keeping focused on what she needed to do at school, while also being able to listen in on everything her hearing brought to her.

That was her undoing.

There was a bad car accident on Route 1 in the early afternoon. She heard the screech of tires, the shattering glass, the shriek of rending metal. She heard the weak cries of an injured driver calling for help. She heard the sirens of the first responders, and their urgent conversation as they spent precious minutes extricating the driver from the wreck. She heard the siren of the ambulance transporting him to Milford Memorial. She heard the clipped voices of the EMTs trying to save his life. And she heard Emily’s voice in the E.R., with forced calm, saying, “I’m sorry… the bleeding was too severe, and they weren’t able to stabilize him.” A woman’s voice wailed in anguish.

Kara’s heart lurched as she realized the man had died.

She heard the radio playing in the administration offices, with updates on the earthquake in Turkey and its aftermath. They were still finding survivors trapped in the rubble, but it was slow going and most of the people they were finding were dead. The live ones were in bad shape.

Severe flooding in parts of Ireland and the U.K. had killed two people.

Flooding in Thailand was threatening to force thousands of people from their homes.

Kara sat hunched over her desk, barely aware of the classroom. How did her dad deal with this? How could he sit and eat dinner with the family, or take them to a movie, or camping, or try to teach her not to be afraid of the ball, or come watch her at gymnastics? Why wasn’t he running off even more than he usually did?

She wondered why her brother hadn’t already made his debut, but knew: Dad was there to be Superman, to deal with the worst so Jordy didn’t have to. He could wait till he was older. But Dad wasn’t here.

She didn’t feel at all ready to be a superhero, and still it took every bit of her self-control to keep from running out of class and rocketing to the rescue when she heard the man in the car accident. And then he died. He died!

Was it her fault? Would he still be alive if she’d tried to save him? Should she have tried? She had no idea what to do. She needed to talk it over with Emily.

She knew Emily would say it was a terrible idea, and she knew Emily would be right. Why was she even thinking about it?

• • •


“I’m home,” called Emily from the door. She found Kara and Caitlin sitting on the sofa; Kara, arms folded, had her back turned on her foster sister. “What’s going on?”

Caitlin turned to Emily and rolled her eyes. “Oh, you are not going to believe this.” She gestured at a collection of items that lay on the sofa between the two girls.

Emily closed the door behind her and came over. She looked over the items and frowned. A Superman T-shirt, some blue cropped leggings, a red cheerleader skirt…

Suddenly she put two and two together. “Absolutely. No. Way.”

Kara turned to face Emily, her eyes pleading. “But what if I have to rescue someone? What about all those people in Turkey who are dying from the earthquake? I could be helping them find survivors!”

“Kara, you’re too young to be a superhero!” Emily sighed. “Where did you get all this?”

“I went to Walmart.” Kara folded her arms again and pouted. “I spent an hour finding all this stuff!”

“Walmart? How did you get to Walmart…” Emily trailed off. “Don’t tell me… ?”

“No one saw me! I can move really fast, and I was very careful.”

Emily closed her eyes and tried a calming breath. “And how did you pay for it?”

“I used the money you gave me for lunches and allowance, and for emergencies. I don’t need emergency money, now, and I don’t need to eat lunch.”

Emily rubbed her eyes. “Kara, do you want everyone to know you don’t need to eat lunch?”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

“Why do you need a costume?”

“You said I should make sure no one knew it was me.”

“I meant, we should make sure no one knows anyone can do what you can do, not just that it’s you. You shouldn’t be doing anything that requires a costume.”

“But…”

“Kara, how old was your father when he started being Superman?” Oh my God, did I really just ask that as a serious question?

“Superman first appeared in 1993 when he saved the space shuttle,” recited Kara. “So… my dad’s birthday is in 1966, so, umm… I guess he was around… twenty-seven?”

“Right. He was an adult. He had the experience to know what he was getting himself into. You are eleven.”

Kara put her hands on her hips. “My dad says the most important thing about being a hero is not how much you can do. He says it’s doing whatever you can.”

Emily blew out her breath, exasperated. “What brought this on?”

Kara lowered her head and hesitated. “…I heard him die.”

“What? Who?”

“That man… in the car crash today. I heard the whole thing while I was in school. And I heard what you said… to his family. At the hospital.” She sniffled. “And all I could think for the rest of the day was, could I have saved him? Did he die because I just sat there and didn’t do anything?”

Caitlin and Emily looked at each other, horrified.

Emily sat down next to Kara. “Oh, sweetheart…” She put her arms around the girl and pulled her close.

“Kara… in the E.R., I see a lot of badly hurt people. If you went to that crash today… I don’t think a kid your age should be exposed to things like that. It could give you nightmares.”

Kara nodded, but didn’t look up.

“If you did this, not only could it be disturbing for you, but the instant you appear in public it will be all over the news all over the world. People will try desperately to figure out who you are. And you’re too young.”

“I know all that, Emily. I know there’s tons of reasons not to do it. But people are dying.” Tears trickled down Kara’s cheeks; Emily hugged her tightly and began to understand.

It was like one of those impossible moral problems philosophers liked to think up: If you have five people standing on one railroad track… In real life, most people never had to make decisions like that. Now, Kara did. It seemed horribly unfair that such a burden rested on the shoulders of a child.

How do you foster an eleven-year-old superhero? They didn’t cover this in the course…

“I guess… maybe…” Emily frowned. “If… if… you were going to help… I wouldn’t want anyone to know it was you. I don’t know what they’d do if they found out. But how could we keep you from being exposed?” She felt like she was navigating a minefield.

Kara sniffled. “They wouldn’t know it’s me. I’d be Supergirl.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think you should be someone else,” said Caitlin. “Maybe wear a mask, or a… whatchamacallit. A cowl? Then no one could see your face.”

“What’s a cowl?”

“It covers your head and face, like Batman.”

Kara wrinkled her nose. “Everyone says Batman is scary. I don’t want to scare people. Anyway, I am Supergirl. Or I’m supposed to be. Or something.”

“You can be someone else here and Supergirl when you go home,” argued Caitlin.

Emily sighed, “That’s the problem.”

“What is?” asked Caitlin.

“She is Supergirl. Even if she calls herself… I don’t know… Mystery Girl? No matter what she looks like, Mystery Girl has the same powers as Supergirl. But pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain: Kara Kent, who has the same name, eyes, and hair as Supergirl, is the same age and build as Mystery Girl, and has a pretty thin cover story.” Emily’s eyes widened. “And Dr. Tong and Detective Spalding heard her whole story. She could fly around inside a sack and call herself Potato Girl, and they’d still know it’s her.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

Caitlin was frowning. “Huh. Yeah. It’s not a neon sign, but the clues are there if people look.”

Emily continued, “What I really want is to keep the government from finding out. I have no idea what they’d do.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Wearing a different costume and using a different name might slow some people down, but it won’t fool the government, not with the resources they have. And if they find out, nothing else matters.

“So you might as well be Supergirl; at least people would have an idea who you are and what you stand for. You’d have less explaining to do.”

She hugged Kara a little tighter. “Do you understand, sweetie? If you do this, I don’t think we’ll be able to keep it a secret no matter what costume you use. I think you’ll be found out. The only question is how long it’ll take.”

“You really think so?”

Emily nodded. “I do. I’m sure your parents are looking for you, and I hope you can go home soon — wherever that is. But there’s a chance you might be here a long time. What would life be like for you if everyone finds out? They might take you away from me. What would you do if something happens and you’re in school? You can’t leave during the day. What would you do if people have issues with a child doing this? And they will.”

Kara didn’t have any answers. She just looked unhappy.

Emily shook her head. “I really have to think this through. I shouldn’t even consider it, but,” she stroked Kara’s hair, “for your sake, I will.”

“You mean you might say yes?” asked Kara, brightening.

“There is a teeny, microscopic, infinitesimal chance I might figure out some way for you to help that I think is sane. And I’ll probably say no. My first priority is to keep you safe. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you — and what would I say to your parents?” Sorry about your daughter, Superman; it seemed like a good idea at the time…

Emily looked down at the small girl bundled in her arms, who, she realized, could probably lift a car. She looked over the items Kara had bought. “Isn’t there supposed to be a cape? And boots, or something?”

“I ran out of money,” admitted Kara in a small voice.

Emily looked up at Caitlin, who was trying desperately not to smile. She reached down and lifted Kara’s chin. “Come on. I’ll probably regret this, but I think we can at least finish your outfit.” She helped Kara to her feet. “Want to go back to Walmart? In the car this time?”

“Yeah!”

• • •


Lois whispered to Clark, “It looks much… newer.”

“It is much newer. It was built just last year.”

They’d hidden the time machine Clark had built far from human habitation, and flown back to Wells’s home. They stood by the kitchen door, the quiet sounds of an English country evening all around them. The area didn’t look that different from their era, save for the lack of automobiles and the unpaved road. The air smelled different, too.

“Clark,” whispered Lois, “How do we know our clocks are synchronized? He said precisely at 11.”

“They don’t have to be. I can see their clock from here.”

“Show-off.”

Even Lois could hear the soft chimes of a clock striking inside. Clark knocked gently on the door, three times.

The door opened almost immediately and there stood Wells, slightly older than the first time they’d met him. His face was a mixture of elation and sadness.

“My dear friends! I would say how very happy I am to see you again, if it were not evident that you must be in great need of my assistance.” He stepped aside and gestured. “Do come in. I must say at least that I am pleased to see the two of you together this time.”

They entered Wells’s home. The kitchen was empty, save for a younger woman standing expectantly with her hands clasped before her. Behind her, a kettle was bubbling quietly on a gas stove.

The kitchen was an interesting mix of historical and relatively modern amenities, being outfitted at the turn of the twentieth century. There was an old-fashioned icebox; Lois wondered if the home refrigerator had even been invented yet. The room was lit by a single, bare electric bulb.

“Lois, Clark, this is my dear wife, Jane. Dearest, this is Mr. Clark Kent and his wife, Mrs. Lois Lane Kent, of whom I have told you.”

Mrs. Wells curtsied lightly. “Mr. and Mrs. Kent, it is an honor to meet you both; Herbert has told me so much.” She noticed their attempts to return the courtesies, and waved her hands. “Please, do not trouble yourselves. I am aware that in the future customs must of course differ; you will not offend if you do not mimic us.” She gestured towards the table. “I am preparing tea. I hope that is satisfactory?”

“Yes, of course,” said Lois, as they seated themselves at the table, along with Wells himself.

Clark said, “Mr. Wells, I hope you won’t mind if I begin—”

Wells held up a hand, interrupting him. “Pardon me, but before you continue, how many times have we met?”

“Excuse me?” said Lois.

“It is important that I understand the sequence of our meetings. How many times have you and I met, from your perspective? Oh, and what year have you come from?”

Lois said, “Four times” at the same time as Clark said, “Three times.” Clark corrected himself: “Four times, she’s right. And we’re from 2011.”

Wells nodded and steepled his fingers. “I recall having met you twice.”

Lois nodded. “Two times, it was an older you. The second time we met, and the fourth. This makes the fifth time.”

“Yes, I recall your mentioning my older self during our last encounter.” He sighed. “I hope you will not mind, but please do not mention any details of my future adventures with you. Is that agreeable?”

“Yes, of course,” said Clark.

Mrs. Wells served them each a cup of tea. She seated herself at the table as her husband said, “Now, please tell us what brings you here.”

• • •