Chapter Eight
The Best Laid Plans
Feeling the need for some light relief, the family conference broke for coffee and some of Martha's home-baked double-chocolate chip cookies, during which time Sara returned home from her evening's gymnastics class. Lois felt a little ambivalent about continuing the discussion in her eldest daughter's presence and had toyed with the idea of asking the Lanes to pick-up Sara from the school. They were already looking after Victoria, who was not yet aware of her father's heritage. Both grandparents were charmed to have their youngest grand-daughter to fuss over for the whole night, and Vicky was always quick to snap up any opportunity to be spoiled by Grandma Ellen and Grandpa Sam -- they made her feel like a princess.
Lois had decided, finally, that at thirteen years old, and already experiencing some of the powers, Sara could be trusted with the secret. The fact that Sara was probably the most thoughtful young teenager any mother could hope to have also had some bearing on Lois' decision.
As it was, Lois soon found out that Sara was privy to Matthew's intentions, which wasn't too much of a surprise, since sister and brother were very close. Two hybrid Kryptonian Kents against the world, and Lois had no doubt that their tight little circle would extend to cover their sister when the time was right. Both siblings were already very protective of their younger sister... if Vicky actually needed protecting. For the most part, Victoria Kent was very well able to stick up for herself, and that was without super-powers. Heaven help the public when Vicky decided to solve the world's problems.
This evening, however, Lois discovered that these particular hybrid Kryptonians were not against the world, but wanted to support it; Matthew taking over his father's role as its protector and Sara, being for the moment, his confidant and number one cheerleader... in her own quiet way.
When mother and daughter went to refill the coffee cups and replenish the supply of cookies for the group, Sara asked, “You weren't really shocked about Matt, were you, Mom? You had to have known what he was thinking.”
“Actually, no, I didn't. He hasn't confided in me recently, but then I'm sure you're aware of that.”
Sara looked crestfallen. “I'm sorry. I did tell him he should talk to you... but I think he didn't want to disappoint you....”
“Disappoint me? Why would he disappoint me?” Lois' eyebrows creased in bafflement. She hoped all her children knew they would have to do something really immoral for her to be disappointed in them. Mad maybe, if they did wrong; like forgetting to do homework, or grumbled about taking out the trash, or not keeping their bedrooms tidy. But they weren't bad kids and her anger always passed fairly quickly.
“If he decided being a superhero wasn't for him,” Sara explained, her voice earnest. “Matt's always believed you'd want him to follow in Dad's footsteps. I suppose I believed that too.”
Lois' first thought was denial, but honesty won out. “Yes, I guess I did think he would... eventually. But there was no hurry... and if Matt had chosen not to, I wouldn't have felt let down or unhappy. That goes for you too, Sara.” She slipped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. “What was right for your dad, or for me, might be totally wrong for you kids. Dad would have been the first one to point that out. All of you have to chose what you want to do with your lives, and I'll support your choices, provided none of you want to become a master criminal, or an ax-murderer.”
Lois bumped against her daughter's hip playfully. Already, Sara had almost equaled Lois in height. She was tall and lithe, though her build could be due to dedication to her sport and not her genes.
“Oh, Mom,” Sara said laughingly, her cheeks blushing charmingly. Now, she did get that from Clark. “I don't think you have to worry about anything like that.”
“No,” Lois agreed, joining in the laughter. “At least, not when it comes to you and Matt. Now Vicky, is different. Nothing she might do would surprise me.”
“Well, I think you can score crime-boss and serial killer off your list. Right now, she's wondering if having a father from a backwater like Smallville will spoil her chances of becoming President!”
Mother and daughter burst into louder gales of laughter just as Jonathan came into the kitchen. “Glad to see you two having so much fun, but Perry was wondering how long it would be before his second cup of java showed up,” Jonathan said with mock seriousness.
“Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be so long.” Lois contained her giggles with difficulty. Now that she'd come to terms with her son becoming a superhero, the excitement of making plans had lifted her spirits. “Is Perry in need of another dose of caffeine? His hip must be troubling him a lot tonight, though I'm not sure black coffee is the best thing for arthritis. Come on, Sara, let's not keep your Uncle Perry waiting for his medicine.”
“OK, Mom, and don't worry, I'll soon sweet talk Uncle Perry out of his mood.” Sara lifted the tray and set off in the direction of the living room, blowing a small puff of air towards the swing doors which parted to allow her passageway.
At the awesome -- yet for Sara -- natural action, Jonathan shook his head from side to side and smiled, offering his arm to Lois.
“You know, she's right, Jonathan. Perry's great with all the kids, but Sara's his favorite.” Lois sounded a little puzzled by this fact. “And I'm sure it's not just because she's his god-daughter.”
“No, it's not,” he confided, bending down and whispering in her ear. “I think it's because she has your looks....”
“And Clark's personality.... She's the perfect blend of both of us, and I'm so blessed to have her.” For a second, tears filled Lois' eyes again and she dashed them away. “Look at me, I'm turning into a leaky faucet.”
“This has been one of those nights. I've been tempted to cry myself a couple of times.”
“Does it bring it all back for you too? I feel I'm in a time warp, and I wasn't around for Superman's creation. It must be harder for you and Martha,” Lois said, with a great deal of insight. She'd noticed her mother-in-law was a little quieter than usual.
“In a way. But Matt seems determined to be his own kind of hero, and that's a good thing. Like you, I'd have been happier if he'd waited a few years, but we have to let him find his own way.”
Lois sent her father-in-law a searching look. “I expected you to be more cautious. That sounds more like something Martha would say.”
Another smile brightened his lined face. “I guess Martha's personality has finally begun to rub off on me after all these years. Actually, I'm as proud of my grandson as I was of my son, and with you to advise him, Matt will do fine. Never forget, if you're ever feeling too overwhelmed, we're here to help.”
Lois kissed Jonathan's cheek. “Thank you. I don't think I'd ever have gotten through these last years if it hadn't been for you and Martha.” Lois smothered another shudder. Her in-laws were getting older and she didn't want to think about facing life without either one of them. They'd been her constant support in her changing world. Thankfully, they both seemed pretty healthy, so far. Giving herself a mental shake, Lois picked up the plate of Martha's home-baked goodies. “But I've been maudlin enough for tonight. We should join the others. This should be a celebration and we still have lots of plans to make.”
*****
Once everyone was plied with a second helping of coffee and cookies, the talk returned to the advent of the new hero with Jimmy kicking off with the big question -- the one Matthew had side-stepped earlier. “So what have you decided to call yourself, Matt, if not Superboy? I think that has a certain ring to it.”
“Uncle Jimmy,” Matt groaned. “I thought you'd realize where I was coming from. I know I'm not much more than a kid, but I don't want to be reminded of it all the time....”
“And he'd have to change his name in a few years time,” Sara pointed out sagely.
“True,” Lois conceded. Matthew would always be her 'boy', but she could sympathize with his reasoning. “Do you have any ideas?”
Again Matthew stared at his feet. “I first thought of Kal-El, but that's Dad... and I decided it might be too painful for you and Grandma to hear the name repeated too often.” He raised his gaze to both his mother and his grandmother and found gratitude in their eyes. “But I wondered if you'd object to Jor-El? After my other grandfather....” Matt's glance switched anxiously to his Grandpa.
“That sounds like a good idea, Matt,” Jonathan stated, quickly assuaging Matt's unspoken worry. “And it has the added advantage of implying you've not actually lived on Earth.”
“Good point, Jonathan,” Lois acknowledged, and decided to let herself pace. She always thought better on her feet. “But won't the people of Earth be worried if they believe the New Kryptonians are back again?”
“Not all New Kryptonians were bad, Lois, and the public recognized that fact.” Perry set his cup down and arched his fingers together. “I suppose you'll always get the conspiracy theorists and the purists, but on the whole, most people understood that Kryptonians were decent people.”
“Yeah, and after Superman passed away, they definitely admitted that about one Kryptonian... holding those memorial services world-wide! But a lot of people never really appreciated him until he was gone,” Jimmy added with a burst of anger.
“That's the way of the world, Jimmy,” Lois said sadly, though, in the past, she'd often allowed those thoughts Jimmy had voiced to gall her.
Martha adjusted her glasses on her nose and said with her habitual common sense. “I think it would ease most people's worries if Matthew made the point that he was here alone.” Her eyes rested pensively on her grandson. “Matt, have you decided whether you're going to claim a relationship to Superman?”
“I haven't actually made up my mind about that.” Matthew dug his hands into his pockets self-consciously. In fact, I haven't really thought all of this through. I was hoping that you guys would help me here. What do you think... Mom?”
Lois didn't answer immediately, but continued to walk back and forth. Seconds later, she halted while her glance swept over the others in the room and eventually settled on her son. “That's a difficult one, Matt. I suppose you could be evasive... claim your origins are Kryptonian, as were Superman's....”
There was another small pause as Lois fingered her wedding ring and everyone else almost forgot to breathe. Then she continued with quiet dignity. “But I think you should say Superman was your father. It would give you a reason for being here. Superman said he came to help, but he also told the world he had another home, and I think most people presumed he only arrived on Earth shortly before he saved the space shuttle. Leading the media to believe the same thing of you would be a good thing.”
“You could allow the public to think you're here because your father always wanted you to take over his role when you came of age,” Jonathan said. “After all, that wouldn't exactly be a lie. He would have wanted you to help out.”
Matthew smiled. “I think he would too, Grandpa. So, I tell everyone I'm here because of my father's wishes.”
“Sounds good! But also assure them you're not here to place blame, or take revenge for your father's disappearance. That wasn't Superman's way and it isn't yours,” Perry pointed out.
“Yes, Perry, I think that's also important to set people's minds at rest.” Lois gestured a thank you towards Perry. She was on a roll and couldn't remember when she'd last felt so passionate. “Martha, we need to get out your sewing machine: does it still work?” Lois didn't wait for an answer. “Unless we can find Clark's earlier suits. I don't think the later ones will fit Matt, not yet anyway....”
“I got a brand new machine, Lois.” Martha smiled at her animated daughter-in-law. “And adjusting the suits won't be a big problem. They just need taking in a bit....”
“Mom, Grandma! I don't want to wear Dad's suit.”
That halted Lois' deliberations stone dead and she turned to face her son.
Matt was looking a little defiant again, but he spoke apologetically. “I meant it when I said I didn't want to be Superman. If I wear his suit, that's the name people will associate me with. They'll call me Superman Jr... or Son of Superman.”
“He does have a point, Mom,” Sarah ventured. “We thought the black suit might be cool....”
“How do you kids know about the black suit?” Lois demanded, her hands settling on her hips.
“Mom, we have x-ray vision. We know you keep it at the back of your closet along with one of the blue suits,” Matt admitted, looking somewhat mortified to be caught checking up on his mother. “We've seen you take them out some nights when someone or something has reminded you of Dad.”
Lois flushed. Those were her private moments and she didn't exactly appreciate Matthew telling the family. It was true, though. There were times when she'd needed the feel of something of Clark's beneath her hand... beneath her cheek.... “But I haven't done that in y... in a long time,” she answered defensively.
“We know, Mom,” Sara said quietly. “And we didn't mean to spy on you. It's just when we heard you crying, we'd get worried about you....”
“So we checked up on you,” Matt added, edging up to his mother and placing an arm round her shoulder, experimentally, letting it rest there when she didn't pull away. “We only did it because we love you, Mom.”
“I suppose I understand.” Lois gave in, and allowed herself to sag against Matt's side.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, Lois.” Jonathan was, once more, the mediator, his voice calm and even. “I still catch Martha looking through those old photo albums of Clark every now and then....”
“That's true, and don't forget to tell everyone that you sit down and we go through them together, you old softie.” Martha dug her elbow playfully into her husband's side and the tension in the room eased as everyone laughed.
“OK, the black suit would add to your association with New Krypton, and I think I can live with giving it up for the cause,” Lois granted with a reluctant grin, her mind drifting off dreamily to the moment she'd first set eyes on Clark in his Kryptonian uniform. It had been on the alien ship and he'd looked more.... Oh, yes, definitely more. Yet this was not the time to daydream and she dragged her imagination back to the present. “But, Matt, I think I should warn you that suit might have quite an effect on the female population. It is very revealing.”
“I could make a blue cape to go with it,” Martha suggested, also reliving the past. “A cape looks really dramatic when you're flying.”
“It would also cover up your be....” Lois waved her hand in the general direction of Matthew's rear. “I mean, it would prevent girls from eyeing your....”
“Alright, Mom, I think I get the picture and I certainly would be happier with the extra... cover.” Matt was blushing furiously at the thought of being ogled. He'd been so concerned with the psychological aspects of becoming a superhero that he'd never really considered how he would feel going out in skintight spandex. “I guess I'll stick with tradition and wear briefs as well as a cape.”
“Yes, sweetie, blue ones, to match the cape.” Martha continued, making lists inside her head. “And blue boots.”
Lois took hold of Matt's nearest hand, linking her fingers with his. “Talking of cover, you're going to need more than the suit. I know a certain person once told your dad that people wouldn't be looking at his face when he was wearing the red and blue,” she said, with a quick grin at her mother-in-law before addressing a serious concern. “And that was probably true a lot of the time, but Superman's face did become very famous. Thankfully, Clark had already established a disguise....”
“You want me to wear glasses, Mom?” Matt asked.
“I think it's too late for that.” Lois shook her head doubtfully. “Your dad had been wearing glasses since childhood, and he was comfortable with them. Everyone who knew him accepted that glasses were a natural part of Clark. If you suddenly started wearing them, they would draw attention to you rather than the opposite.”
“Yeah, and these days most kids who have bad eyesight would settle for contacts. Glasses are so yesterday,” Sara offered her considered thirteen-year-old opinion. “This time Jor-El should wear the disguise.”
“You're right, honey!” Lois crossed to her daughter, dropping down beside her on the sofa and pulling Matt to sit on the arm. She had such smart kids. “Matt, you'll need a mask....”
“You know, when we were creating the Superman suit, your dad tried on a couple of outfits with masks and cowls,” Martha said. “Not that he liked them, but I don't think that had too much to do with what he was wearing on his head. You need a cowl which comes down to cover part of your face.”
“Like a ski-mask?” Matt's brow crinkled in disgust.
“No, stupid! Criminals wear ski-masks,” Sara said disparagingly. The siblings shared a close relationship, but that didn't prevent them from sparring verbally on occasion.
“Sara, don't call your brother names. You know I don't condone that... even if you are right this time.” Lois glanced sternly at both children. “Your grandma is meaning something which would come to just below your eyes. Something that would help hide your identity, but wouldn't scare the people you're saving.”
“And a cowl would have the added advantage of staying in place during rescues. I could easily attach one to the suit,” Martha offered, her creative juices making her feel rejuvenated. “The newer elasticity in spandex means it should move more freely with you, sort of like a second skin.”
“That would work, and I remember some of these New Kryptonians wore funny headgear, so it wouldn't seem too out of place. Can't say I liked their dress sense much,” Lois stated, her lips turning down at the corners. “Apart from the First Lord's uniform, and I'm sure it will look even better once Martha's altered it for you.” Lois patted Matt's hand.
“OK, you've persuaded me. It's probably better that I wear a mask anyway.... Might stop people realizing I'm just a kid. They'd probably trust their lives to someone a little older.”
“Are you kidding? If I was trapped in a burning building... or drowning, I'd be grateful for super help from an eight-year-old,” Jimmy said, his head nodding emphatically.
Lois laughed. “Do me a favor, Jimmy, don't let Vicky hear you say anything like that, or we'll have her donning a suit the minute she starts developing superpowers.... Wait a minute! Sara?” Twisting round to face her daughter again, Lois' expressive eyebrows lifted to meet her hair. “You don't have any plans to... to be Supergirl in the near future?”
“Mom! I couldn't... not yet, anyway. I don't have all the powers.” Lois' shoulder's relaxed, only to tense again at Sara's next statement. “But I promise to talk to you first when I do have to make a decision.”
“Oh, please, can I just get over the shock of having my only son decide to place his life in jeopardy.”
“Mom! I'm not necessarily putting myself in danger,” Matthew complained.
“No you're not,” Lois agreed with feeling. “That's why I'm insisting on conditions.”
“I was wondering when we'd get to them.” Clearly, Matthew had hoped that his mother would forget about the restrictions she'd mentioned earlier in her enthusiasm to create a new superhero. He should have known better. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, settling astride the sofa's broad arm, his resigned gaze reminiscent of Clark's when he was about to listen to the rules as laid down by Lois Lane.
Rising from the couch, Lois took centre stage before the fireplace. “You might not appreciate the rules, Matthew, but they are non-negotiable... at least for the time being. Whether you like it or not, your Dad had ten years more experience of the world before he went public as Superman... so, I think you need a probationary period....”
Matthew groaned, and for his pains received a quick warning glance from Jonathan.
“Son, I think you should listen to your mom,” Johnathan said, supporting Lois to the hilt. “You need time to learn to be a superhero... even your dad realized that. There are dangerous people out there who will be very upset to have another powerful crime-fighter arrive on the scene.”
“And they won't!” Lois announced with a vehemence that sent everyone in the room into varying stages of shock. “Going after criminals is definitely off limits for you at this time, Matthew.”
“Mom, that's not possible,” Matthew argued, surging to his feet.
“Yes, it is possible.” Lois' voice remained adamant and her gaze and stance brooked no interference, from any quarter. “Rescues are fine, hopefully smaller ones at first, but for the time being, you stay away from thieves and thugs.”
“But they can't hurt me....” Too late, Matt realized he'd metaphorically walked into a brick wall. He swallowed hard, then went on a little less confidently. “Well, most crooks don't have kryptonite.”
“That's probably true, but I'm not prepared to take that risk... yet.” Lois' arms had been folded over her chest in a gesture of authority, yet now her body seemed to wilt and her arms became a shield. “I can't risk losing you too, Matt.”
“But you won't, Mom. I'll be careful.” Now Matt's tone was cajoling. “I can't be a proper superhero if I can't tackle crime.”
Martha echoed Lois' pain. She rose and came to stand by her daughter-in-law, slipping a hand round Lois' back. “Matt, you have to understand that we have been here before. We might not have spoken our fears aloud, but every time Superman flew out the window we worried, and we didn't relax until he returned safe and well.”
“Only the last time he didn't return,” Jonathan said, a tremble barely concealed in his voice. “Matt, son, you just can't expect your mother, or any one of us to forget that. Maybe you could leave tackling crime till you've gotten more used to dealing with the powers; till we've grown accustomed to you doing your dad's job.”
“I don't understand why everyone is so worried about me getting hurt. Uncle Bernie told me I'm more immune to kryptonite because of my human genes.”
“No, Matt.” Lois argued. “What your Uncle Bernie said was that you were probably less susceptible to kryptonite poisoning, but it could still harm you.”
“What you need is backup!” Jimmy threw his wild idea into the conversation.
“Backup?” Lois' puzzled stare skewed in the direction of her colleague.
“Yeah. Kinda like a kryptonite disposal squad.”
“Jimmy, this is no time for jokes!” Lois frowned and turned her back on Jimmy, dismissing his absurd suggestion.
But Jimmy wouldn't be silenced. “I'm not joking! Matt is my godson and I'm just as concerned about his safety as anyone else. Think about it, Lois. You're worried that some crook is going to hurt Matt by using kryptonite on him, so what he needs is someone who's not affected by the stuff to support him.”
“Like a... partner?” Lois almost mumbled.
“You did it for Clark a number of times.” Jimmy stared at his longest and possibly closest friend, willing her to understand where he was leading.
“But wouldn't a normal person get in the way, Uncle Jimmy? I mean, wouldn't it just make things more difficult for me if I had to protect someone while I was dealing with a gangster?” Matthew's anxious questions interrupted Jimmy's and Lois' moment of reflection.
“I think Jimmy's suggesting your partner should remain under cover,” Lois spoke slowly, working through the new idea.
“You've got it, Lois. Superman patrolled the skies at night, and that's when he thwarted most run-of-the- mill crimes like muggings and the odd petty thief knocking over the local store... maybe even stopped a gang-fight or two. If Matthew cut his teeth on the same sort of thing, I doubt he'd encounter kryptonite, but just in case, he takes one of us with him. Whoever goes could stay out of sight, unless he needs help getting rid of the rock... or if things turn really nasty, the partner could call in the cops, at least.”
An arrested expression appeared on Lois' face as Jimmy stopped speaking. “Henderson might help. If there was one cop in this city who was grateful for Superman's presence it was Bill... and I'm pretty certain he'd worked out Clark's secret identity.”
“I wouldn't bet against that, Lois,” Perry said. “He was one shrewd cop, but hasn't he retired from the force?”
“Yes, but he still runs his own security company... a very successful one too. I think he'd be grateful to have another superhero around and if I spoke to him, tell him what we had in mind, he might agree to help out. We need fairly fit and able-bodied people to back Matthew. I don't mean to insult anyone here, but some of you are just a bit too old... or too young.” Lois' last statement was directed at her daughter. “Besides, Sara, you probably would be disabled by kryptonite too.”
Martha couldn't help but smile at her grand-daughter's dejected expression. “Your mom's right, Sara. Just be patient and your time will come.” At a glare of disapproval from Lois, she quickly continued. “Unfortunately, your mother's right about me too. Much as I don't want to admit it, I'm too old to be flying around at night chasing criminals.”
“Don't worry, Grandma, I wouldn't let anyone harm you....”
“Matt, you've got this all wrong. Grandma would be minding you!” Sara's mood quickly changed and she chuckled, while the others grinned.
“That's right, laugh,” Matthew declared, not exactly amused. “Some sort of superhero I'll be if I need a bodyguard.”
“Matt, I'm sorry. Just humor me in this, OK?” Lois' tone was a little more conciliatory. “It won't be forever, I promise. Besides, I have another idea. We'll need Bernie Klein's help, though.”
“I'm almost afraid to ask....” Matt ventured, looking extremely unconvinced.
“A tracking device... one that only Bernie could tune into. I'm sure he could adopt the technology.”
“I don't doubt it, Lois,” Jimmy said. “But trackers can be dropped or gotten rid of fairly easily.”
“Not if he wore it round his neck, under the suit. It would have the added protection of the super-aura, should you have one, Matt.” Lois studied her son, hoping to see some evidence of a protective presence. “An even better option would be if Bernie could somehow insert a tracing chip under your skin, but I suppose he'd have to expose you to kryptonite to do that... and that's what we're trying to prevent. Even then, there's probably a chance your body would reject the chip once you recovered from the exposure.”
“Mom, now you're making me sound like a dog with a collar or an identity chip.” Matthew interrupted Lois' babble, his pride wounded.
“What about a St Christopher?” Sara asked, finding she had an aptitude for this brainstorming stuff. “Bernie could disguise the tracker in a small medal. Lots of people wear these things. If anyone notices, you could say you got it from a friend... or from a grateful person you'd rescued.”
“That's a terrific idea.” Lois beamed on her daughter. “You know, Sara, you're pretty good at this sort of thing.”
“I suppose I could live with wearing a tag -- soldiers do, don't they?” Matt decided to give in gracefully on that point, but he still wasn't too sure about the back-up plan. “If I carried a tracker, would that mean I wouldn't need the bodyguard?”
“I'm still working that one out, Matthew. It all depends if Bernie could incorporate some kind of panic alarm in the St Christopher. Something you could use to call in help. It would still mean we'd need someone on standby, but perhaps not quite in such close proximity... just near enough to come to your aid if necessary.”
“Right!” Matthew appeared to chew that information over for some moments. “I don't suppose I have any other option?”
“Not really. I'll agree to you being Jor-El if you agree to these stipulations.” Lois smiled, to soften the ultimatum.
“I don't want to put you through any more trauma, Mom, so I guess we have a deal.” Returning Lois' smile, Matt pulled his mother into another hug, though after a moment he drew back. “And you're sure there's no other regulations you want me to follow?”
“Now you mention it... I don't want your super-duties to interfere with your schooling. You need a college education to get yourself a job. Unless you're considering being Jor-El full time.”
“No way, Mom. Dad couldn't do it, and I don't want to. Matt Kent is who I am... and I haven't really decided what I want to do for a living, though I thought maybe I'd like to follow Grandpa....”
“A doctor?”
“No, Mom! My other Grandpa... a farmer.” Matt grinned over Lois' shoulder at his Grandpa Jon.
“I don't suppose that surprises me, Matt. When you were a child, you always were happiest in Smallville, working in the fields with your grandpa, fixing fences or messing around with tractors.... You do know there are agricultural courses you can take that would teach you to improve your crop yields.”
Matthew threw back his head and laughed aloud, a sound of pure relief and exhilaration. “Oh, Mom, you kill me. When did you become such an expert on farming?”
“Falling in love with a farm boy will do that to a girl!”
Lois laughed along with the others, glad to release the tension this evening of revelations had caused. She looked towards her in-laws sitting on one of her couches, their hands tightly intertwined. Had they been party to Matthew's future plans? Somehow she felt they were as surprised as she.
Some months after Clark's disappearance, Jonathan had finally admitted that he'd lost both the will and the energy to continue working the farm. He and Martha had leased out the land to a local farming co-operative and moved to Metropolis to help Lois raise the children.
Now tears mingled with smiles on their lined faces. Jonathan and Martha would be proud and more than happy to see their farm back in the hands of a Kent once again. Strangely, that thought gave her a warm feeling inside.
The world had turned full circle and she'd learned that her son was more like his father than she'd ever thought possible. A farmer... as well as a superhero!
*****
In a mysterious land of teeming millions, a solitary person walked along a lake shore. It was morning and the man had spent some hours clearing the mouth of a small river which emptied its sparkling mountain waters into the lake. Yet today, because of a heavy storm, the water had been thick with silt and rocks, all jammed behind a tree trunk which had been brought down by the wind and rain.
The man had worked steadily since shortly after dawn, sawing the tree and accumulated brush into manageable sizes until he'd freed the damned up stream, allowing the waters and debris to mingle with the large volume of the lake. Within a few hours there would be no trace of the tiny natural disaster, though Letour was well aware that MacDonnell would be amazed that he'd accomplished so much in so short a time. His boss was proud to announce to anyone who was willing to listen that Letour could do the work of ten men.
Of course, that was a blatant exaggeration -- MacDonnell was known to stretch the truth a little -- but Letour couldn't deny the fact that he was fairly strong or that he had an abundance of energy. Not that anyone looking at him would believe Mac's claims. No matter how Marjory MacDonnell tried to feed him up, he remained the tall gaunt figure that her husband had found by the roadside two years ago.
That winter night had proved advantageous for both men. The conservation project, which filled Mac's life, had acquired a trustworthy and hard-working employee, while the wanderer had found a place of shelter. Letour was grateful for all the MacDonnell's had done for him, yet regardless of their attempts to draw him into their family, his deep-seated feeling of isolation remained with him. He accepted their friendship, even offered as much of himself as he could in return, but still felt a stranger.
With the storm past, he'd gazed about him, marveling at the beauty of the scene. The pristine air was filled with the scent of pine trees, while above him the sun shone from a clear blue sky, a fitting backdrop for the regal mountains. Across the waters of the bay, the sound of fishermen calling to each other as they plied their trade wafted on the wind. In this province of China, it seemed as if time stood still.
He'd heard about China's large bustling, pollution-filled cities but had no desire to visit them. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with cities... at least, he didn't think so, but those warnings to remain anonymous, to stay away from places of authority still lingered strongly in his mind. Here, no one bothered him. If fact, as one of MacDonnell's employees, people treated him with respect, even casual friendliness, but most were too intent on making their own livings to worry about his origins.
Besides, this wasn't a bad place to stay. He had a comfortable roof over his head. Shortly after he'd arrived at the center by the lake, Mac had gotten some of the other workers to clear out one of the outbuildings and, in the ensuing weeks, Marje had done her best to make it into a cozy home for him. In summer there were always flowers in a vase on an old dresser she'd rescued from somewhere, and in winter time a wood-burning stove to ward out the cold.
Yes, his life was definitely passable, and he decided to take a short walk along the pebble beach before returning to work. He picked up a stone and sent it skipping across the rippling water, watching it arc once, twice, three times before it sank into the depths. Not bad for a first try. He picked up another, making sure it was as flat as possible and threw again. This time the stone skipped six times before disappearing from sight. He felt a strange feeling of accomplishment, which made him grin.
When had he learned to do that, or was that a skill all boys learned in their youth?
Suddenly a picture appeared in his mind of a dark-haired boy, concentrating seriously on making a stone skip across a lake. Another boy. He was sure it was an image captured from the past... but not of him.
Another lake too. A much smaller lake, actually more like a pond. The boy frowned and his teeth worried at his lip as he tried to imitate the action he'd been shown by... his father? Then the child crowed in delight as his stone hit the water twice before sinking.
“I did it, Dad! I did it!” The boy turned and jumped into the waiting arms of... who?
Letour rubbed at his temple. Was he the man who had received the joyful boy in his arms? The man who remained forever out of sight in his clouded visions.
Strange feelings assaulted him as the apparition changed. The boy was no longer a child and he was troubled... as if there was something he ought to do but was unsure of the outcome. In the youngster's soul there was confusion and yet there was steadfastness too. Letour could sense it.
But where did these ghostly images come from and what was their purpose? Mostly, these sensations would come to him in dreams... dreams which were still almost lost with the coming dawn. Yet, this was daylight and he was wide awake!
Voices and faces, known or only imagined, bombarded his brain as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him... and then the pain began. A throbbing, searing pain, as if burning needles stabbed inside his skull.
He dropped to his knees on the hard stones, but didn't feel their discomfort. Now he was no longer rubbing his head, but was almost clawing at the skin, as if he would tear out of the cause of his torment. But he knew it was useless.
Always with these flashes of... memory came the tearing ache. His body trembled as he curled around himself, trying to ward off the worst of the attack. Soon he would be sick, horribly physically sick... and then the pain would recede into numbness. Hopefully, then he'd be able to pick himself off the beach and drive back to his place. He'd tell Mac he was sick and needed to rest.
Thank goodness it wasn't Friday. On Friday nights he had a standing invitation to dinner with the MacDonnells. Marje would fuss over him and later he and Mac would share a glass of Mac's best malt and play a game of chess or cards. After today's 'incident' he just wouldn't be up to socializing, but the MacDonnell's would understand. They'd seen him through episodes like this before. No doubt, when he did awake from a long sleep, feeling spent and disorientated, he'd find a flask of Li-Ying's homemade soup waiting for him.
But that was for later... now he had to get through these next agonizing hours. He clasped his arms around his body, warding off the cold, though the weather was mild and he'd fallen in the full glare of the morning sun. Shutting his eyes to keep out the light, he waited in resignation for time to pass and bring him ease.
Would his dream woman come to bring him succor? He did so hope to see her again -- it made the pain almost bearable.
But through the red haze behind his tightly closed eyelids the nebulous image of the teenage boy drifted... and he too smiled, happy at last. Perhaps the boy's problem had been resolved. Letour thought that might be true, and found some consolation in that belief.
In the background, but definitely in reality, he heard a shout from the road above the lake. It was a Scottish cry, one he'd recognize anywhere. Mac must have been driving into the village and noticed him lying helpless on the beach. The Scotsman surely was making a habit of coming to his rescue. Maybe one day he'd get to return the favor.
*****
tbc
