Table of Contents ---&-&-&---
Superman flew across the sky, listening for the distinctive beep that would alert him to Phillip Manning’s presence. He had promised Lois that he would just track Phillip down and report on his location; he would allow the kids to take the lead on confronting their friend. He and Lois had concluded the teenager would be more likely to listen to the advice of his friends than a lecture from an adult.
Clark’s mind recalled the lecture he had given Phillip three years ago. Lois and Clark had tracked down the Smart Kids’ hideout with Amyee Valdes’ help. Clark had burst into a backroom where the twelve-year old boy was threatening to inject a captured Lex Luthor with what he had assumed was a toxic dose of the Smart Stuff. Clark had explained his experience with growing up different and had persuaded Phillip not to harm Luthor and to give up the Mentamide. Yes, Phillip had listed to Clark’s adult lecture back then.
What had changed in Phillip’s life that would stop him from listening now?
Clark hadn’t needed to ponder that question for long. Time had changed Phillip. Three years could mean a lot to a teenager. Phillip had grown from a prepubescent boy into a rebellious youth. As a child, Phillip had been forced to use drugs; as a teen, he was apparently making that choice all on his own.
‘What a waste,’ thought Clark. ‘Phillip may have had a hard life, but that’s no excuse to turn to drugs.’
For the second time in two days, Clark wondered if he should have done more to help the former Smart Kids. And again, for the second time in as many days, an uncomfortable feeling of wariness settled into his stomach. They knew his secret.
He had tried to convince himself that the kids had been fooled by his childish ketchup trick, but there had always remained a piece of his gut that had clung to the truth. It was the part of him that replayed boyhood warnings from his father every time an innocent onlooker caught a glimpse of Clark Kent doing something extraordinary. It was the area of his psyche that generated sweat-inducing nightmares of autopsy tables and dissection tools when people like Diana Stride tried to dig into his life. It was the same inner coward who had stopped him from being completely honest with Lois for so long.
Most people never saw that side of him. They only ever saw the Clark Kent who was an easy-going, well-liked, charming farm boy, always willing to help the people around him. And people never scratched the surface of his Superman persona to see that there was more to the superhero than incredible abilities, invulnerability, and a heroic desire to rid Metropolis of crime.
There were only three people in the world who could actually understand how vulnerable Superman really was. And while he loved his parents dearly, his life hadn’t been complete until he had been able to share all of it with Lois Lane.
Criminals thought Superman could be brought down with kryptonite - that the easiest way to defeat him was to physically attack him with a piece of his home world. How wrong they all were. “Clark Kent is Superman” was a much easier weapon: an emotional attack that would ruin everything he truly lived for - his home with the wife he cherished so deeply.
And three years ago, that weapon had been placed in the hands of four smart kids.
The beep grew louder as Superman continued his path over the city he now called home. If the kids had learned of his secret five years ago instead of three, Clark would merely have moved on to someplace new. He had toured the world that way: slipping away under the cover of night any time his secret was suspected. He had nearly resorted to that default escape plan on a few occasions during his stay in Metropolis. And each time, Lois Lane had changed that plan. He loved her too much to ever leave her.
That love had put Clark into a unique situation. He had been forced to rely on a group of teenagers he barely knew to protect his secret identity -- to protect the safety of his parents and wife. He had no power to keep them quiet. And though Lois often joked with him about his trusting nature, he just hadn’t been able to fully trust the former Smart Kids. After all, middle school kids were not known for their ability to keep secrets: that age group tended to include the biggest gossips of all.
It was more than that, though. Clark doubted that he would have been comfortable with anyone discovering his abilities. He had been in control of his secret his whole life. But he had no control over what others might do if they possessed that knowledge. Even if the Smart Kids meant him no harm, how could four people stop themselves from accidentally letting a secret slip if that secret personally meant nothing to them? How could he expect, for the rest of their lives, none of them would ever say a word? It had been too impossible for him to believe.
So since he hadn’t been able to run from the truth, he had chosen to avoid it. He had kept his distance from the kids, pursuing an “out of sight, out of mind” policy. If he stayed out of the kids’ business, he had believed they would have no reason to get involved in his.
It was embarrassing to be afraid of a small group of children.
Maybe knowing they had not spread his secret should have helped alleviate some of his fear. But each passing year had only confirmed to him that the strategy of leaving them alone was working. Had it not been for Aymee’s recent trip to the newsroom, Clark might never have taken a step towards seeing any of them again.
The reintroduction of the Smart Kids into his life had prompted Clark to confront his anxiety about the knowledge they possessed. Maybe he could repay their loyalty by extending his own measure of trust. Maybe he could count on them as his friends instead of guarding against them as potential enemies.
Superman was nearing the location of the tracking beacon when Phillip’s frantic cry of “Wait!” rang in his ears. He found himself flying over the downtown Costmart and used his x-ray vision to scan for the boy, locating him in an underground office. ‘How did Phillip get involved with Intergang?’ Clark thought.
He attuned his ears to the teenager’s voice and started to weigh his options. He would have to start by removing the bodyguards’ weapons.
But the next sentence he heard stopped all thoughts from filtering though his brain.
“I know Superman’s secret.”
Panic-induced nausea slammed into his stomach as the taste of bile filled his mouth. ‘No!’ He could not let Phillip betray him. There was no time to waste. Clark calculated his best point of entry, dove from the sky into the ground, and burst through the concrete walls of Mindy Church’s office.
---&-&-&---
Dust exploded from the wall as a flash of blue and red sped by him. Phillip turned to find the guns that had been pointed at his head a mere second ago were now crushed in Superman’s fists.
A surge of relief coursed through Phillip’s body. He might get out of this situation after all. He could take the Mentamide and flee, making a new life for himself.
The murmur of his conscience tried to drown out the shouting of the drug. He knew that last thought was wrong somehow. ‘Let go of the Mentamide. Give up the drug. You’re safe now.’
He tried to listen to his inner voice, but the drug in his system still had an oppressive effect over him. It fought his mind for control.
“No!” The cry of Superman’s voice jolted his attention and Phillip watched as the hero crumbled to the ground.
A high-pitched giggle rattled through the office. “What’s wrong, honey,” Mrs. Church said. She was bent at the waist, hands balanced on her upper thighs, talking to Superman as if he were a child. “Don’t you like my beautiful new necklace?” Mindy stroked her index finger down the chain, drawing the hero’s attention to her chunk of kryptonite.
“No,” he said again, although Phillip hardly heard more than a whisper. Phillip’s vision darted to observe Mindy’s triumphant gleam, then was drawn back to the man who had burst into a similar room three years earlier. But what a different situation they were in now.
Philip saw the agony projected in Superman’s eyes very clearly, cutting much more deeply than words. ‘Help me,’ those eyes silently pleaded.
The red and blue costume faded from his view as those eyes captured his. Clark Kent needed his help. Not the arrogant superhero who flew in and out of people’s lives. Not the nosy reporter who dashed from one story to the next. Not a substitute father figure who skipped out on young boys’ lives.
Clark Kent was a person in trouble. Someone Phillip had the potential to save.
Mindy Church looked back and forth between Clark and Phillip and laughed again. “Oh, Superman, I hope you don’t think this boy is going to get you out of this mess. After all, he’s the one that gave me this lovely little gift in the first place.”
For some reason embedded deep inside, Phillip despaired at the notion that Superman would believe he had betrayed him. Loyalty was important to him; his belief that others had been traitors against him three years earlier had led him down the path he found himself on today. “I didn’t know.” Phillip begged Clark to understand.
“Please! What did you think you were stealing, Girl Scout Cookies?” Mindy sauntered to the end of her desk and let her hands pass over the assorted collection of makeup, hairspray, and nail products that were neatly arranged on the corner. Her fingers deftly pulled out a pair of nail scissors, which she brandished as a weapon. “You’re a smart kid, Phillip. Do you think you want to get on my bad side?”
He had no words as Mrs. Church sashayed to where Superman lay curled in a ball. With a dazzling smile on her face, she twirled the scissors in her hand, wound up in the air, and plunged the tool into Superman’s arm.
Phillip watched in horror as blood spurt from Clark’s limb and an anguished wail escaped the hero’s lips.
‘What have I done?’ Phillip asked himself.
“What do you think, boys?” Mindy addressed her henchmen as she gave a little curtsy. “Want to see what I’ll do for Act Two?”
The bodyguards applauded for Mindy’s benefit.
The cruelty he was witnessing did what nothing else had been able to do. Phillip’s mind veered away from its dark obsession with Mentamide 5 and began to focus on creating a solution to the desperate situation. Phillip looked around the room and his drug-enhanced brain automatically began sorting objects into their component parts, seeking a dangerous combination that would help Clark Kent and aid in their escape.
He found the answer lying on Mrs. Church’s desk. ‘I can’t!’ his addiction lamented. But Phillip summoned the inner strength to push past his dependency. With the crime boss temporarily distracted by her small victory, Phillip lunged for the desk and grabbed the necessary components. Then he spun and threw the vial of Mentamide and a bottle of nail polish remover against the wall.
The resulting explosion knocked everyone to the ground, but Phillip had been prepared. He caught himself as he fell, then dashed towards Mindy Church. Pushing her onto her back, Phillip grabbed at the kryptonite and ripped the chain off her neck.
“Stop him!” Mrs. Church shouted. She tried in vain to hold him, but the teenager had leverage on his side and pulled away from her clutches. He stumbled backwards, and then righted himself. Quickly assessing his best alternative, Phillip scrambled for the hole that had been left by Superman’s entrance. He slipped into the opening, stood under the open shaft, and hurtled the necklace upwards toward the ground level. His luck held out as the small rock escaped the shaft and fell somewhere outside of the hole.
Ducking back into the office, he saw that his efforts had paid off. The bodyguards were huddled together in a corner in an attempt to distance themselves from the upright superhero. Mrs. Church remained on the floor, but her posture suggested she had conceded defeat. Upon seeing Phillip, however, fury flashed through her eyes. Phillip had made a new enemy.
Phillip ran to Superman’s side. “Can you get us out of here?” he asked quietly.
Superman nodded his head, replying just for Phillip’s ears, “I’ll try.” Superman pulled the teenager into his arms and lifted from the ground as the two of them floated up the shaft to safety.
---&-&-&---
“We can’t find it anywhere.” Dudley Nickolas and Karen Sanchez shook their heads as they approached the bench at the edge of Centennial Park.
“That’s okay. Thanks for looking anyway.” Lois Lane sat next to her husband and clutched his hand. She had sped to the park upon receiving Clark’s phone call. He had only had the strength to fly the short distance from the Costmart and change identities before he had collapsed on the park bench in exhaustion. As promised, though, Lois had quickly taken the time to call the former Smart Kids and tell them the location of their friend.
“I’m sorry,” Phillip Manning said. “I couldn’t think of anything else to do with it. I just knew I had to get rid of the kryptonite as soon as possible.”
“Hey, you did the best you could.” Karen put a supportive hand on Phillip’s shoulder.
Clark stood up from the bench. “You saved my life, Phillip. And you protected my secret. Thank you.”
She noticed the teenager pale slightly. “I almost gave it up. I was so desperate to get my hands on the Smart Stuff that I nearly did something really stupid.”
“That’s what you were on?” Dudley looked at his girlfriend, who appeared just as shocked. “I knew it was something bad, but come on!”
“You had no way of knowing. Nobody did,” Phillip said.
“Phillip!” Aymee Valdes ran to her friend and threw her arms around him. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I will be.” Phillip smiled, and Lois thought she saw a bond connect between the two teenagers.
Dudley interrupted. “You’re going to need help.”
“I know,” Phillip replied. He looked at Clark and asked, “What’s going to happen to Mrs. Church?”
Clark thought for a moment. “Well, nothing will happen to Mindy Church. At best, she could be charged with receiving stolen property, but she wouldn’t be convicted because the kryptonite necklace is missing. She could be charged with misdemeanor assault on Superman, but Superman isn’t prepared to testify about the effects of kryptonite in open court. Either way, talking to the police would lead them to your involvement.”
Phillip lowered his eyes. “So what will happen to me?”
“I think there’s a more important place for you to be than juvenile hall.”
Dudley nodded and handed Phillip a brochure. “This place is supposed to be really good. There’s a space waiting for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
Phillip looked at the brochure. “Getting clean will probably be even harder this time. But I need to do it.”
“We’ll always be here for you,” Aymee said. Her embrace with Phillip had ended, but she appeared unwilling to lose all contact with him, holding on to his hand.
“And I’ll be here too.” Clark’s face appeared relaxed for the first time in days. He looked at each of the kids before continuing. “I trust you all as my friends.”
A look passed between the small group, an acknowledgement of the knowledge they shared.
Lois smiled and squeezed her husband’s hand. Their secret was safe.
---&-&-&---
“Get out of here, you cowards!” Mindy watched her idiot bodyguards flee the office. ‘They are so fired!’
Mindy stomped to her desk and fell into the chair. She had wasted two days of her life on that teenager’s plan. ‘I missed a hair appointment for him!’ She checked her anger and considered which she was angrier about: Phillip’s betrayal, Superman’s escape, or the lack of her hot oil treatment. It was too close to call.
Pulling open a drawer, she hunted for her special manicure set. But a piece of paper caught her attention. She withdrew it and smoothed it over her desk, reviewing the formula for Mentamide 5.
She could always have another batch created. If the stuff worked, it could be a real advantage to her underground business.
She crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. Despite what most people believed, Mindy was a very intelligent woman. ‘I’m too smart to do drugs.’
Leaning back in the chair, the crime boss retrieved an emery board and began to smooth the edges of her fingernails. After a moment, though, she reconsidered and dug the formula out of the trash. She moved to her file cabinet, opened a drawer, and searched through the files. Finding the correct one, she dropped the scrap of paper into storage.
‘Who knows? Maybe I’ll need it someday.’
She closed the drawer and took her seat once more. A proof sheet stacked on top of her inbox called for her attention. ‘Two-gallon jugs of chutney are on sale next week?’ Yuck! When would that purchasing department ever learn?
Phillip Manning would have to watch his back in the future. Intergang did not forget to deal with its enemies. For now, though, Mindy had people to fire. And she would take great pleasure in doing so.
* * * * * * * * * *
The tall man held the necklace in his hand, allowing the rock to radiate sparks of light that cast an eerie green glow across his skin. Kryptonite. It had to be.
He had been walking downtown yesterday, blending in with the rush of people heading to work, to shop, to play. They all had something to do, somewhere important to be. But not him. There had only been one thing on his agenda: stay out of trouble. Obey the terms of his bail.
He had been bored out of his mind. He had been so used to doing whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased. He and his wife had indulged in life to the fullest. But now he had been reduced to pretending he was nothing more than an honest, upstanding citizen outrageously framed for a crime he hadn’t committed.
He suppressed a laugh.
Of course, he really had committed the crime of which he was accused, but that was the beauty of the American legal system: innocent until proven guilty. ‘God bless the Constitution.’
There were only three people who shared his secret, who could debate his defense that he had merely been a pawn in someone else’s scheme. His wife, of course, would say nothing. That only left Lois Lane and Superman.
Ben Franklin had once written, “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” He knew exactly who those two people needed to be. The question was, how?
He looked down again at the prize in his hand. He remembered how it had come into his possession. How something had glittered while it arched through the air, catching his attention as he had strolled past the downtown Costmart. How his curiosity had been sparked, leading him to cross over to where the object had fallen to the ground. How he had stuffed the necklace into his pocket as his eyes scanned the oblivious passers-by. How he had quickly left the scene in favor of the security of his own home.
Waiting like a good little boy for his shyster lawyer to get him off was stupid. Kryptonite and a gun could help him be proactive, could allow him to eliminate the two main witnesses for the prosecution.
Tim Lake closed his fist around the precious rock and smiled as a plan began to form in his head.
* * * * * * * * * *
For Monique: You said you wouldn’t do “that” anymore. May your promise live as long as the words on this page.
