Good Night, Lois – Neverland
“Come back, Clark” she whispers between sobs. “Please, come back.”
Her hands curl around the fabric of her pillow that must already be soaked by her tears.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to find the resolve it takes to keep hovering like I did the other nights. If I were serious about staying away, I probably wouldn't be here in the first place. Why am I torturing myself like this? What am I trying to accomplish coming back here every night since our first chance encounter?
Dream myself into a family I can't have?
For some reason I can't even understand, I find myself gravitating towards Lois.
And the more distressed her sobs sound, the harder it becomes to ignore her plea.
Her parents didn't invite me here. They don't even know I exist. But they're downstairs fighting and it kills me to listen, just like I know it kills Lois.
My heart shatters more with every harsh word being said down there, with every gut wrenching sob that shakes her body.
I can't stand it anymore. It's either leave or do something about it.
I let out a shaky breath.
As if I could leave.
I've come too late once.
I don't want anyone else to endure that kind of pain. Not even a tiny fraction of it. Particularly not Lois.
All windows in the immediate area are closed, all except one. She's waiting for me down there. She's been waiting ever since that first night a few weeks ago.
But I have no business being here.
Lois is not my daughter, she's not my sister. We're not even friends.
“Clark, please,” she begs again.
She's crying so hard.
And nobody seems to care.
The harsh words are just getting louder, angrier.
I've been there - listening to so many arguments I’ve lost count.
This isn't about me, I remind myself.
Lois is the one who's hurting.
Her sobs turn to whimpers, her whole body is shaking so hard the bed is rattling with the force of it.
I can't stand back any longer.
Checking one last time that nobody's watching, I drift lower and tap on her window.
Lois looks up, her tear streaked checks glistening in the faint light. Another sob racks her body, but then she wipes off her tears and a smile blossoms on her lips.
“You came,” she whispers, sniffing. “You really came.”
“Yes.” Suddenly I'm ashamed of myself. I promised her I'd return. That hadn't been fair. “Why are you crying?*
Lois sniffs again. “Mom and Dad are fighting because of me.”
She lowers her gaze in shame and it tears me apart.
“Not because of you.” I want to add some sort of endearment, anything to alleviate her pain, but it doesn't feel right. We hardly know each other. “I'm sure.”
Lois shakes her head. “It all started because of me. A boy at the playground took away Lucy’s shovel. And I told him to give it back, but he just pushed me away. So I hit him and he hit me back. Then his Mommy came and yelled at me.” Her eyes fill with fresh tears. She sobs again. “And my Mommy came too, and yelled at me, and said I should stop hitting the boy. They didn't even listen when I tried to tell them this was all about Lucy's shovel…”
Her lower lip trembles and she rubs her nose on her sleeve.
“I think my Daddy knows the Daddy of this stupid boy, because when Daddy came home, he already knew what had happened and yelled at me all over again.” More tears run down her cheeks and I want nothing more than to scoop her up in my arms and soothe her. “I tried to explain, but they just sent me upstairs. And now they're fighting.”
For a moment I listen to what is being said downstairs. If this was ever really about what Lois did at the playground, her parents’ fight has long since veered off into a completely different direction. They’re arguing for argument’s sake.
“This is not about you,” I say again. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. Whatever's going on down there, it's not your fault. You were brave stepping up to the bully.”
She purses her lips, her jaw suddenly set in grim determination. “I hate bullies.”
“Yeah, so do I.”
My heart clenches as I remember my last foster father. When he came home drunk, he sought out one of us to vent his frustration on. Most of the time I provoked him so he’d pick me rather than one of the others. His beatings didn't hurt, unlike the words he whispered in my ear while I let him beat me up until, one day, he broke his arm on me.
That was when I knew I had to leave.
“Can you tell me another story?” Lois' brilliant smile is back, chasing away the dark memories.
I might not know my place in this world, but right now I'm exactly where I should be.
I return her smile. “Sure. Any story in particular you want to hear?”
“How did you come to Neverland?”
I feel a lump in my throat. Neverland? Do I even have a Neverland? It's definitely not my recent past where I'm all alone and isolated. Neverland is supposed to be a happy place full of adventures with fairies and mermaids.
Perhaps the Kent farm was as close to Neverland as I ever got.
“Well, I was still a baby when I got there. My parents knew they couldn't care for me any longer. So they put me in a ship that brought me there.”
It was the place where I had really been a child, free and careless, at least as careless as my life allows me to be.
Yeah, the Kents were my Neverland and I really wish I could return.
She yawns and slips underneath her covers. “Tell me more about Neverland.”
And I tell her about my happy days on the farm, about picking apples, collecting strawberries and eating pie. And while I'm talking, her eyelids flutter close.
I smile as I watch the sleeping girl. “Good night, Lois.”
***
Last edited by bakasi; 11/08/24 02:58 AM.
