Good Night, Lois – Fairy Dust
I take a short break from carrying boxes and watch the fading light as dusk settles above the city. Tonight I have to tell Lois that I can't visit her anymore.
It's not fair to either of us.
I'm not really the ‘Lost Boy’ she believes I am. Keeping up that fantasy might make both our lives a little easier for now, but honestly, I‘d just be lying to both of us.
“Hey, Kent, stop staring, start working,” my boss bellows. “These boxes ain't gonna carry themselves upstairs.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
I pick up two boxes and get back to work. This job is a good start, a way to build up a life after spending the past three years on the run. Nobody is going to look twice at the guy who helped them move.
As I enter the house, I find the staircase blocked by a couple of men struggling with a sofa that didn't fit into the elevator. Gripping my boxes tighter, I try not to think about how much easier it'd be if I carried the monstrosity alone.
That would raise questions, though.
I take a deep breath and lean against the wall, waiting until the way up is clear.
I glance at my watch. Bed time for a five-year-old girl is approaching soon.
I need to tell her tonight or I'll lose my nerve.
Truth is, I don't want to say goodbye. For the first time in years I can be myself around someone, even if she's just a little girl. Seeing Lois each night, even if it's just from above,even if I don't talk to her, gives me a sense of belonging that I haven't felt in a long time, if ever.
It's almost as if I have been sent here to make her smile.
That's nonsense of course.
I am the sole survivor of a world that died years ago, light-years away. My single purpose in this world is staying alive. What for, I don't really know.
But I can't make her the reason to keep going. That's too much responsibility on the shoulders of a little girl.
I'll tell her tonight.
And then I will start studying for my GED, work hard to get a scholarship, go to college and make good use of the freedom my eighteenth birthday granted. I won't dwell on how said birthday also enlightened me on how little I actually belong here.
My birth parents sent me here to survive, but there has to be more to life than just making it to the next day.
***
Lois' head whips around as I tap on her window.
“Clark!” She almost stumbles over her own feet as she jumps out of the bed and rushes over. “I was hoping you'd come.”
“Lois.”
Seeing her, I can't help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. She's so vibrant, so full of life that the whole room – even though it already lies in darkness but for a tiny light on her bed stand – is aglow with her energy. Once more that incredible sense of belonging washes over me, the intoxicating feeling of being welcome.
I am not, I know that. It's not healthy to confuse my brief acquaintance with Lois for friendship.
“Are you going to tell me another story tonight?”
“Yes.” I let out a slow breath. “But this will be the last time. It's not okay for me to visit you when your parents don't even know about me.”
A frown appears on Lois’ forehead. “But I told Mommy and she said it was okay.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“It's ‘beg your pardon’, not ‘what,’” Lois corrects gently.
“You're right.” I cannot help but laugh.
Images of my Mom resurface unbidden, memories of happier times when she taught me those same manners. I push them aside, concentrating on the problem at hand. Did Lois really tell her mother about me?
I want to ask her, but she already continues, “I told Mommy that one of the ‘Lost Boys’ visited me and told me stories about Neverland. And she said, 'That's fine, sweetie.'”
She smiles at me and I don't know whether I should be worried or relieved.
I can't stifle a sigh. “I don't think your Mommy understood that I am real. She believes you made me up.”
“I didn't make you up.”
“Yeah.” How can I make her understand the problem? “But grown-ups don't believe in places like Neverland anymore. To your Mom, I’d just be a stranger. What did your Mom tell you about strangers?”
“That I shouldn't talk to them or go with them,” Lois replies automatically. Then she pauses and I can see realization dawn on her face. “Oh!”
“Do you think your Mommy would like it if someone she doesn't even know is in your room talking to you?”
Lois slowly shakes her head. Her lower lip quivers and her eyes fill with tears.
“But you're not a stranger,” she says thickly.
I want to reach out and pull Lois into an embrace. It's killing me to hurt her like this.
“To her, I am,” I say softly. “And you don't really know me, either.” Though better than anyone else, I suppose.
“That’s not true! I know you’re lonely, just like me. I need you, Clark. Don’t leave me all alone here. Mommy and Daddy argue every night. They don’t love each other anymore.” More tears fill Lois’ eyes and she sobs quietly. “I need you.”
The lump in my throat is so thick, I don’t think I can breathe. “But that doesn’t give me the right to visit you without their knowledge. It’s just wrong.”
Lois folds her arms in front of her chest. Even tiny as she is, I can see that one day she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with. I’d love to see her grow into that woman.
She sticks out her chin. “You’re my friend. Why would that be wrong?”
For so many reasons that I can’t even begin to explain what is wrong with my being here. She’s still so innocent in such a cruel world and needs to be protected of the dangers of life, which – unfortunately – is including me.
“Tell me, Clark. Why is this wrong?”
I hang my head, because I don’t really know an answer to that. On some level, it doesn’t feel wrong. I want to be her friend, I want to be there for her and dry her tears when nobody else does. I would never hurt her, so why is it wrong, indeed?
“It’s hard to explain,” I say roughly. “There are bad people out there, Lois.”
She frowns. “Are you one of them?”
I shake my head and give her a pained smile. “No, I’m not one of them. But there is no way for you or your parents to know that for sure.”
She reaches out and takes my hand. Her fingers are so small compared to mine.
“I know you’re not a bad person.” She blinks back the tears that still moisten her eyes and gives me a watery smile. “Please, promise that you’ll come back when I really need you, okay?”
I heave a sigh. I couldn’t say no if I wanted to, so I just nod. Oh, boy, I’m in trouble. “When you really need me, I’ll be there. And now, come on, I’ll tell you another story and then it’s time to say good night, Lois.”
Hastily she jumps up and slips back under the covers. The smile on her face is lighting the dark. I sit down on the edge of her bed, trying to think of something to tell her tonight.
“Clark?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you need fairy dust to fly?”
Last edited by bakasi; 11/15/24 03:00 AM.
