7
<<Jon?>>
His father’s voice echoed in his head again, and Jon straightened up suddenly as the pickup truck turned into their driveway, bumping along the uneven dirt road. Ahead of them, he could see his mom standing on the porch, her arms crossed over her chest and a worried expression on her face. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her.
He’d worried her too.
He’d worried all of them and made his grandpa feel worse.
And all because… Anger filled him.
<<This is your fault.>>
<<I… What?>>
<<Mom is sad, and Grandpa is sick, and Grandma is worried. And it’s all your fault. They’re all sad because you left.>>It was wrong of him to lash out like that, and he immediately felt guilty, his own regret mixing with a set of complex emotions he somehow felt from his father.
<<Jon, I—>>“I don’t want to hear it! Leave me alone!” he yelled out loud. “Leave me alone! You’re not here! You’ve never been here!”
The truck stopped rather abruptly after his outburst, and he covered his face with his hands. He wouldn’t cry again. He’d cried too much already. And he was going to hurt them more if he kept this up. Just like his dad had.
He pushed away his anger. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Grandpa. I’m sorry, Grandma. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I thought I… I thought…” He heard his own voice shaking now, and a moment later, the truck’s door opened and his mother crawled into the backseat with him and wrapped her arms around him.
“Jon, sweetie,” she murmured. He returned her embrace, hugging her tightly. She was warm, and her hug comforted him, like it always did.
<<God, Clark. Wish you were here. You could explain so much better.>> Some emotion—uncertainty and…inadequacy.
<<No good at this. Never have been. Never meant for this…>>He shook his head. “You’re the best mom, and I—I love you,” he murmured against her. He heard her inhale sharply, and her arms tightened around him again. His own tears threatened, pricking at the corners of his eyes. “…Just—just tell me, please, Mom. Just tell me the truth. No more…no more lies. Please, Mom.”
“Okay, sweetie. But not here. Can we go inside?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he just pulled away from her, climbed out of the truck, and headed toward the house ahead of her, his hands clenched into fists. It was all so confusing. He’d been mad at her yesterday for lying to him. Mad at her and Grandma and Grandpa and everyone else. But now…now he felt something different altogether.
Abandoned.
He’d been abandoned.
He knew the word because it was one of the special challenge words his teacher had given him to learn last week. It meant he’d been left. Alone. Without care or concern.
And not just him. His dad had abandoned all of them.
His mom and his grandma and his grandpa.
They’d needed him. And he’d left them all to fend for themselves. Sad and alone. He’d left them, for what? A story? Work? And it made Jon feel so incredibly sad. And angry. Not at his mom and his grandparents, but at his father.
The voice came again then. Filled with concern and a genuine regret and sadness he could feel deeply. But he ignored it. It was too late, and he really didn’t want to hear it.
<<Jon, please talk to me, kiddo.>>He hopped up the front porch steps, tugged the door open, and then, at the last second, remembered his manners enough to hold the door for his mother.
“Here, Mom,” he said quietly.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
His mom gave him a small, sad smile, and his anger flared. His mom being sad…it was his dad’s fault.
<<Jon, I didn’t know. Honestly. And I’m…I’m on my way home now. I—>>The door shut loudly behind him and his mom as they entered the house together, and his mom’s arm wrapped around him. He leaned into her for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut.
<<Four days, Jon. I’ll be there. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left. I swear, kiddo.>>The anger bubbled up inside of him again, but he pushed it down and refused to answer.
“We have cookies left over from last night. Chocolate chip. Did you want one, sweetie?”
Shaking, he nodded and looked up at his mother. “Yes, please, Mom.”
She leaned over and kissed the top of his head, and he felt all of her love again, so much love, overpowering everything else he felt in that moment. Even his anger was able to fade. He smiled at her as she straightened back up, and with a sob, he jumped up and wrapped his arms around her neck.
“I love you, Mom,” he whispered, burying his head into her neck. He felt her trembling, and then she let out a long, deep breath.
“Oh, sweetheart, I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”
But he did know. He felt it, still.
And amidst it all, the voice that he’d wanted out of his head, that he’d tried unsuccessfully to banish away, seemed to quake with guilt and regret and sadness and a deep, almost unbearable longing.
<<God, she’s just as beautiful as ever. Lois, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I didn’t know, my love. And Jon, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.>> And Jon let himself cry again, feeling a swath of emotions that were both his and not his, as his mother carried him over to the kitchen table, sat him down, and began telling him a story he hadn’t been expecting. A long story about how his father had been born on the planet Krypton, sent to Earth as a baby, and then called back to help his people fight a war against an evil dictator on another planet light-years away.
When his mom finished, he leaned against her again, settling deep into the comfort of her embrace as he tried to wrap his head around the truth. The truth…and the reason behind the Big Lie… The reason his grandma had assumed his odd behavior was explained by superhearing… The reason he’d never met his dad.
And that reason was that his dad…his dad was Superman.
