Clark smiled happily to himself ten minutes later as he lifted off the ground, leaving the police behind. He’d taken not only a group photo with all of the officers on the scene, but individual photos as well. All of them had asked for his autograph – many of them saying it was for their children – and he’d gracefully obliged. It felt good, to have it be reinforced once again that the alien superhero had been embraced by the world, rather than feared, the way Bruce had worried when Clark had first tossed around the idea of creating the Superman character and using his powers in full view of the public. It wasn’t that he needed or wanted to feel important, but it was a relief to be able to use his abilities to make a positive impact in the world.
Without planning to, he found himself returning to the town. He hovered there, in a thick, puffy cloud, and looked down on the place he’d once known so well. It had never been home, but it had become familiar and almost comforting, during the time he’d been nothing more than one of Grandma Tildy’s boys. It was weird, he thought. He neither missed the town nor did he not miss it. It had been a part of his life for a couple of years – he knew every nook and cranny of the town. But he’d never truly felt connected to the place – as though it was just a place to visit, not the place where he was actually living.
Not like Gotham.
Gotham had been his home for a while. And, although Clark had always known it wasn’t his true home – that title had been reserved for Metropolis, though Clark hadn’t known it at the time – he loved that city fiercely. Gotham ran in his veins, the same as Metropolis now did. He felt a certain sense of pride in those two cities.
He felt nothing for the town spread out below him.
He knew, on some level, that the place still represented a host of negative memories for him. His loneliness and isolation as a newly orphaned teen. His fears of being without his parents’ guidance as new powers had developed. His resentment that life had chosen such a rough road for him to travel – as if having terrifying powers hadn’t been enough to deal with.
And yet, Clark had to admit, the place still held some fond memories for him as well. How his loneliness had been abated by the friends he’d made while living at Grandma Tildy’s – especially Chen. He and Chen had been practically attached at the hip. Grandma had even jokingly referred to them as “the twins” occasionally, despite their age difference. He had even come to be content here, in his own way. It had become comfortable and familiar. He liked the town well enough – it was small enough that it felt like everyone knew everyone else, just like in Smallville – but big enough to cater to just about any need anyone could have.
I’m not that far from the halfway house, he thought to himself. I haven’t been back there since I ran away. I wonder…
He paused.
Would he have any emotional reaction, if he were to fly by the place? Or would he have the same neutral reaction as he had toward the town? He’d never even been so much as tempted to go back there, even on just a quick fly-by. Should he go now, just to satisfy his curiosity?
The sound of crying in the distance halted his musings. Without another thought, he was racing away, toward the sound. Clark followed the old abandoned railroad tracks that cut through the center of town and out in the surrounding countryside. Even when Clark had been a young teen living at Grandma’s, the tracks had laid dormant and rusting from the passage of time and disuse. Some of the boys living at Grandma’s claimed that the tracks had been abandoned after a serious accident that had claimed the lives of hundreds of train passengers many years ago. According to those stories, the tracks were still haunted by the ghosts of those who hadn’t survived. Clark had never believed in ghosts, but had tried to find information on the train crash featured in the story. No amount of research at the library or direct questions to any of the older residents in town had ever produced a shred of proof the accident had ever occurred. Many of the locals had shaken their heads, laughed, and said how they had also heard of a similar story to the one Clark had been told.
The old memory surfaced without warning, but it made Clark smile nonetheless. He hadn’t thought about the old “haunted railroad” story in ages. His smile didn’t last long, however. In the next moment, he found the source of the crying.
There, on the tracks, was a young boy. He was all alone, a backpack on his back, walking along the tracks. He was sniffling and rubbing tears from his eyes. Once, he looked back and appeared to sigh before continuing on. Clark watched for just a moment, assessing the situation, then he gently descended from the sky. He didn’t wish to startle the boy, so he landed with whisper-softness on the tracks about ten feet from the boy. The boy’s eyes widened with surprise and he gasped in awe.
“S…Superman?” he asked in disbelief.
Clark smiled. “In the flesh,” he confirmed.
“Wh…what are you doing here?” the boy asked, looking torn between staying where he was and approaching Clark.
Clark stood still, letting the boy decide what felt the most comfortable to him. “I was in the area when I heard crying. I wanted to make sure whoever it was is okay. Are you okay?” he asked.
The boy’s face darkened in a blush as he scrubbed away the salty tracks on his cheeks with his sleeve. He looked at the ground and toed the dirt beneath his battered sneakers. Clark guessed he was embarrassed that he’d been caught crying.
“Yeah,” the boy finally said, “I’m okay. Thanks. You know…for checking.”
“What’s your name? If you don’t mind my asking,” Clark said, trying to get the boy to talk. Something was bothering the kid, and Clark wanted to know what it was so he could set things right.
“Benjamin,” the boy replied after a moment of hesitation. “But most people call me Benji.”
“Benji. That’s a good, strong name,” Clark commented with approval. “What are you doing out here, all by yourself?”
“I…uh…” Benji stammered.
“It’s okay. I’m not here to get you in trouble or to judge you. I just want to help, if I can,” Clark assured him.
Benji swallowed hard and nodded. “I was…running…away,” he managed to get out in fits and starts.
“Ah,” Clark said with a knowing nod of his own. “Running away from home.”
“It’s not my home. It never will be!” Benji exclaimed, his lower lip trembling. “Please, just let me get away from that place!”
He tried to run past Clark, but Clark gently stepped into the boy’s path. Benji wound up crashing into Clark’s arms. In his grief, the boy didn’t try to escape, but dissolved into fresh tears. Clark felt the kid’s arms tighten around his torso. Taking a chance, Clark gently hugged the sobbing boy for several long moments, until Benji pulled away. Blinking back further tears, Benji wiped his runny nose on the back of one sleeve. He looked up into Clark’s face.
“I’m sorry, Superman.”
“Hey now,” Clark said, placing his hands on Benji’s shoulders in a comforting way. “Don’t ever apologize for your emotions. Do you want to tell me what’s going on? If you’re trying to get away from a bad situation, I can help.”
Benji sighed heavily. “It’s not that,” he admitted. “Everything about the place is fine enough, I guess. It’s just…I hate it there. I just want to go back home.”
“What place?” Clark softly prodded.
“Grandma Tildy’s.”
Clark felt his entire body go cold as a chill ran up his spine.
Grandma Tildy’s.
The boy was running from Grandma’s, just as Clark himself had done a long time ago. All of a sudden, Benji wasn’t just some random kid that Clark had happened across. He was Clark himself, in a way. A little younger – Clark guessed Benji was eleven or twelve – but he wasn’t so different from the fifteen-year-old Clark who’d run away from the halfway house and into a scary, uncertain future.
“I see,” Clark managed, trying his hardest to keep his features neutral, to mask the pain his heart felt.
“It’s an orphanage,” Benji said, explaining.
“I…” Clark stopped and sighed. “I know,” he admitted a few tremulous heartbeats later.
Benji’s eyes widened even more. “You…do?”
“Yeah,” Clark confirmed. “A close friend of mine used to live at Grandma Tildy’s.”
“Really?” Benji sounded almost excited that Superman, of all people, knew about the halfway house.
“Really,” Clark confirmed gently. “Why don’t we find someplace to talk? Someplace maybe a bit more comfortable than abandoned train tracks in the middle of night.”
“There’s a park. In town,” Benji suggested.
“Perfect,” Clark said with a smile.
He knew exactly the place the boy had in mind. He’d spent plenty of afternoons at that park as a teenager himself – sometimes playing ball with friends, sometimes supervising the younger kids as they played on the jungle gym, slides, swings, or other equipment. He had extremely good memories of that park. Going there to try and talk Benji out of running away, if possible, seemed only too perfect.
“I know the place,” Clark continued. “I flew over the town just a little while ago.”
Benji nodded and let Clark scoop him up. Together, they flew to the park. Clark set them both down in the play area, near the swings. Benji looked around a moment, seemingly unsure of what to do. Then, after a minute, he sat on one of the swings. Clark sat next to him, and the boy stifled a chuckle at seeing Superman sitting on a swing. Benji swayed back and forth on the swing, saying nothing. Clark let him be, allowing the kid to approach their conversation in his own way, at his own pace.
“So…your friend knows Grandma’s,” Benji said a couple of minutes later.
“Yeah.”
“Was he an orphan too? Or was he like some of the other boys? With parents who couldn’t care for him?”
“He…his parents died when he was thirteen,” Clark stammered. It still hurt to talk about the loss of his parents. “There was no one else to care for him, so he was sent to live at Grandma’s.”
“Same thing for me,” Benji admitted in a small voice. “My dad died when I was a baby. It was just my mom and me from when I was eighteen months old, until a month ago. She was sick and…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Clark said sincerely.
“My aunt couldn’t take me in. She can barely afford to keep herself out of the poor house. There’s no way she could care for a kid. So I got shipped off here, to Grandma’s. But…I hate it here. I just want to go back home. I miss my house. I miss my town. I miss my friends.”
“I can understand that,” Clark sympathized. “It must be hard, having to leave everything you knew behind.”
“It sucks,” Benji confirmed. He sighed. “It’s not fair. I just turned twelve. This isn’t supposed to happen. I miss my mom and dad, even if I never really knew him.”
“I know,” was all Clark could say.
“I was trying to go back. Back home, where I belong,” Benji offered. “I…I thought it might help. I thought…I don’t know. Maybe I could live with my friend Zack’s family. I don’t fit in here.” Benji fell silent for a few seconds, then, “You said your friend really lived here, at Grandma’s?”
Clark nodded. “Yes. My friend, Clark.”
Benji nodded in turn. “Did he…like it at Grandma’s?”
“He liked it well enough,” Clark answered truthfully. “He said that it was…different. It took some getting used to, living in a new place. It always does, even when you want to move to somewhere new. Trust me, I know.”
“How?”
Clark smiled wistfully. “Well, I had to travel across the universe from my home world to Earth, right?”
Benji laughed a little. “I guess that’s true.” He paused. “Your friend…Clark. How long did he live at Grandma’s? I know the courts are trying to find a foster family for me but…some of the other boys at the home have been there a long time.”
Clark cringed internally. He didn’t want to lie to Benji, but he didn’t want to crush whatever dreams the boy had about getting a foster family quickly either.
“He…he was here for about two years,” Clark admitted slowly. “But,” he quickly amended, “during that time, he made a lot of friends. He learned how to fit in with the other boys at the home. He said that two years went by fast.”
“Oh.” An entire world of disappointment was in that single word. “And then…he got a family?”
Clark shook his head, trying to stave off a flush of embarrassment from reddening his cheeks. “He left, like you did tonight.”
“He did?” Interest was in Benji’s voice and face. “Wh…what happened? Did he go back home?”
“No,” Clark said simply. “Things…didn’t turn out the way he’d hoped. He was alone for a long time. It was hard for him. He was lucky to survive, out on his own. He was too young to be on his own.”
“I’m not. I’m twelve,” Benji said proudly.
“Clark was fifteen,” Clark gently countered.
“Oh.”
“Benji, I know things seem bad right now. And they are. Your whole world has been turned upside down. I understand that. But trust me, things aren’t quite as bad as you think at Grandma’s. Clark told me about what a great woman Grandma Tildy is. How friendly. How giving. How loving. It might not seem like it, but you’re lucky to have wound up at her home. She genuinely cares about every single boy who comes into her house. And I know, it sounds like I’m not hearing your feelings and concerns. But I am. I don’t…I just don’t want you to wind up like Clark, alone and on the streets, fighting to survive.”
“Clark…Clark…Clark,” Benji said, as if turning the name over in his mind. “Wait…Clark Kent, of the Daily Planet? Is that that your friend? Everyone says he is. I’ve read his articles about you. I read anything I can about you,” he admitted sheepishly.
Clark nodded. “Yes. That’s him. And yes, we’re close friends.”
“Seems like he did well enough for himself on his own. I can do the same.”
Clark shook his head now. “Maybe. But he got very, very lucky. He happened to make a friend who got him out of the trouble he was in. But before that, Clark went hungry most days. He could barely keep clothes on his back. He shivered in the cold, with nowhere to go. He had what little he had stolen from him by others. He was physically attacked on the streets.”
Oddly, telling his story to Benji felt different than when he’d been trying to convince Jack to go to the halfway house in Metropolis. Perhaps it was the suit that gave him courage. Perhaps it was because, by talking about himself in the third person, he could almost pretend that he was talking about someone else altogether.
Benji’s face was pale in fear. “Really?” he gulped.
“I wish I was making this up,” Clark said, looking away to mask the pain his memories had brought to the surface. “But unfortunately, it’s all the truth.” He turned back to the boy and allowed himself to swing slightly in his seat. “I’m not trying to scare you,” he told Benji, “but I do think it’s important to tell you the truth. Believe me, Grandma’s house is paradise, compared to what life on the streets is like.”
“I believe you, Superman.” Benji sighed. “Chen said a lot of the same things. About giving the home a chance. About it being the best place for me right now. I didn’t want to believe him. But hearing about your friend…” He let his voice trail off.
“Chen? Chen Chow?” Clark asked, surprised. He realized a heartbeat later that he wasn’t supposed to know the other man.
Benji looked as surprised as Clark felt. “Yeah. He and Grandma run the house. Why? Do you know him?”
“Only by his reputation,” Clark quickly fibbed. “He and Clark were the best of friends, back when Clark lived at the home.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Clark said, allowing himself just the tiniest ghost of a smile. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Superman?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go back. But…I’m afraid Grandma Tildy will be too angry to want me back,” Benji said, nervously biting at his lower lip.
“Benji, if there’s one thing Clark taught me about Grandma Tildy, it’s that she will forgive just about anything, if you apologize and mean it.”
“Then how come he never went back?”
Clark sighed and thought of how best to phrase his response. “He felt too ashamed,” he finally settled on. It was true enough, without revealing the whole truth. “After a while, he said it felt like it was too late to go back, even if he knew deep down that Grandma would have forgiven him for running away, and taken him back with open arms.”
“Superman? I think…I guess…Can you take me back? Please?”
“Of course,” Clark replied, thrilled to have persuaded the boy away from running away. “Are you ready to go now?”
“Mmmm…maybe in a few minutes. I…uh…it’s kind of a dream come true for me to get to talk to you. Maybe I’m being selfish but…I kind of don’t want this to end just yet.” He gave Clark a toothy smile.
Clark laughed aloud. “There’s no rush. We can talk for a little longer. But, well, I’m sure Grandma Tildy is worried about you.”
“I know. And I feel bad. But…meeting you is the best thing that’s happened to me, maybe ever.”
Clark smiled. “You know what? Meeting you has been pretty great too. The highlight of my night, in fact.”
Benji simply beamed with joy.
***
Clark stood nervously before the halfway house where he’d spent two years of his life, though he was sure to maintain a cool, neutral expression for Benji’s benefit. For a long moment, he merely gazed at the house.
Funny, he thought with surprise, it looked so much more imposing back then.
The house was still quite large to accommodate all of the boys who lived there at any given time. The gray stones were strong as ever, and gave off the same charm that Clark had eventually learned to see in the place. The surrounding land was just as neatly manicured as he remembered it being – just the way he and the other boys had worked so hard to make it, in order to save Grandma from needing landscapers.
It seems smaller, somehow, he noted to himself.
Back when he’d first arrived, the house had seemed like a mansion. Clark had simply never seen a home that large in his life. Even after living in it for two years, it had still felt like the biggest house in the world, even with as crowded as it could sometimes feel as boys moved in and filled the home to capacity.
But Clark had done a lot of growing in the intervening years. He’d lived in an actual mansion. He’d flown all over the world and seen real life palaces. As a result, Grandma’s had shrunk in his eyes. Why, a rough eye-balled estimate told him that the house was approximately the same size as the Batcave.
He forced himself out of his thoughts. “Ready?” he asked Benji.
“Ready,” the boy tremulously replied.
Clark raised his fist and summoned all his courage, fighting down the unease and guilt which roiled his stomach. Then he gently rapped his knuckles against the door in a soft knock he knew would be heard.
“Who’s knocking so late?” Clark heard Grandma Tildy mutter to herself from within the house.
“I’ll get it, Grandma.”
Clark froze. He knew that voice. It was older and deeper, but unmistakable.
Chen, his mind informed him.
What would it be like, to see him again? Not that Chen would recognize him. He wasn’t there as Clark, after all. He was Superman, and he was bringing Benji back to the home.
The door opened slowly, cautiously. Chen appeared in the doorway. He stared, wide-eyed, as he caught sight of Superman.
“Superman?” he asked, sounding flabbergasted.
Clark inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Good evening. I’m looking for Grandma Tildy. I heard she’s in charge here.”
“That’s me,” came the familiar voice of Grandma Tildy. She ambled to the door.
Clark was shocked as he gazed at her. She seemed to have barely aged in the intervening years since he’d last seen her. Her hair was a little whiter now. And she moved a little more slowly – likely from arthritis. But she stood as tall and looked as friendly as ever. She shooed Chen away from the door.
“Superman? How can I help you?” she asked.
“I...uh…found one of your boys,” Clark stammered.
“One of my…” Grandma Tildy began.
“It’s me,” Benji interrupted, stepping around from behind Clark’s cape.
“Benji?” Grandma Tildy cried. “What in the world!”
“I…was…trying to leave,” the boy said, every word sounding carefully chosen. “I’m sorry. I know I did a horrible thing by running away. But Superman found me and talked to me. I…I want to come back, if you still want me here.”
The words came out in a rush and a couple of fresh tears spilled out of Benji’s eyes.
“Still want you?” Grandma Tildy sounded confused by that. “Of course we all want you here, Benji! Come inside, both of you, please,” she continued, ushering them both into the house. Using just her ever-moving hands, she gestured for them both to sit, but not before she enveloped Benji in a welcoming hug and checked him over for signs of injury. Clark sat uneasily on the couch as flashbacks shot through his mind, of the very first time he’d sat upon the same couch in Grandma’s living room. “Here now,” Grandma said. “Can I get you a drink or anything, Superman? Benji?”
“Thank you, but no,” Clark replied, while Benji merely shook his head mutely.
“Benji? When did you leave?” Chen asked the boy, squatting down on the floor to be eye-level with the boy. “Grandma and I have been up this whole time. We had no idea you were gone.”
“I waited until you were in the shower. And Grandma was baking in the kitchen. It was easy enough to slip out. I’m sorry.” His lower lip quivered.
“Hey, don’t get upset. No one is mad,” Chen said gently. “We just want to understand what’s going on. Okay?”
“Okay,” Benji replied, taking a deep breath. His lip stopped trembling.
“Come on,” Chen said, standing, and beckoning to Benji. “Let’s talk about what made you want to leave tonight. And if there’s something Grandma and I can do to fix things, we can work on it, all right?” He playfully tousled the boy’s hair, like a loving father or doting older brother. Benji nodded and Chen turned to Clark, extending a hand. “Thanks for finding him and bringing him back, Superman. I think I can speak for both Grandma and myself when I say we’re grateful for your help.”
“My pleasure,” Clark said, standing and shaking Chen’s outstretched hand. “Just glad I could help.” He turned to Benji. “Benji? You made a good choice tonight. I’m proud of you.”
“I wouldn’t have come back, if not for you. Thanks for talking me out of it, Superman. I…I wasn’t thinking when I left. I’m glad you found me tonight.” With that, he launched himself into Clark’s arms. He gave Clark a tight hug. “Thanks for everything, Superman.”
“You’re welcome,” Clark said, smiling. “Be good for Grandma Tildy and Chen. It’s pretty obvious they care for you a lot.”
“I will. I promise,” the boy swore. Then he was walking away, toward the rec room, where Chen was waiting in the hallway.
“Grandma?” Chen called.
Grandma Tildy waved him off. “You two talk. I’d like some time to speak with Superman. Alone.”
“Of course, Grandma,” Chen replied, bowing his head in respect.
“Don’t wait up,” Grandma instructed him.
Chen nodded. “Goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight,” she replied. Then, to Clark, “Do you have some time to talk?”
Clark inclined his head in a shallow nod. “Of course.”
She smiled. “Good. Would you mind if we walked out in the garden? It’s such a pleasant night out, and I’d love a bit of fresh air.”
“Sure,” Clark agreed.
He followed her silently as she led the way outside. She said nothing, and gave no indication of what she might want to talk to him about. But Clark was patient. Moreover, he knew that it wasn’t unlike her to hold her tongue until she was completely ready to broach a subject. So he walked alongside her in the dark, his hands clasped behind his back in a casual, comfortable way. She led him to the small gazebo at the edge of the garden, out near the lake, well away from the house.
Once there, she sat on the worn wooden bench and patted the empty space next to her. Clark obediently sat down and clasped his hands together, resting them in his lap. Grandma Tildy remained silent for another half a minute, then a smile spread across her face as she twisted in her seat to look him in the eyes.
“As I live and breathe,” she began. “Clark Kent. I never imagined I’d see you again, though I’d hoped to.”
To Be Continued…
