A/N: Just a silly little something. Hope y'all enjoy. 
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Carlos had forgotten to check the lake before jumping in. His father always warned him to stay away from any water that had a log floating in it, and now a massive “log” was already streaking towards him. He scrambled for the shore but barely managed to scream before powerful jaws pulled him under.
“CARLOS!!!” His father's distant voice was further muffled by the water.
In a blind panic, Carlos struck at the gator's nose, hitting it repeatedly even as they descended to the bottom of the lake. Much to his surprise, the reptile let go. Carlos pushed against the lake floor and shot upwards, gasping for air as soon as he had broken through the surface.
Immediately, strong arms were around him, pulling him over to the shallows and then onto land. “Carlos, Mijo!” Rivulets of water trickled from his father's clothes as the two of them staggered back toward the house, and the man let out a rapid litany of words that Carlos didn't recognize despite knowing both English and Spanish.
Up ahead, his mother slid the back door open with nearly enough force to shatter it and ran down to them. While she frantically patted him over, Carlos slowly became aware that he still had all his limbs and wasn't bleeding. In fact, the gator's sharp teeth hadn't even left a mark on his skin.
Carlos ran a hand over his uninjured leg and looked up at his parents, frowning. Strange things had been happening to him all summer, and they had insisted that nothing was amiss. So, he had sharper hearing than most boys his age. So, he managed to not get scrapes or bruises when playing sports. So, the summer heat occasionally ignited things when he happened to be nearby. This, however, was not something he could just ignore. “Mama? Papa?”
They exchanged a look, some silent communication passing between them, and his mother nodded before turning back to him. “Come inside, Carlos. Your father and I... it's time we told you something.”
They filed into the sun-room, Carlos and his father both dripping all over the tiles, and she slid the glass door shut behind them. His father wrung out his shirt and stepped out of his soggy shoes while his mother ducked into the master bedroom. “Mijo, your mother and I love you with all of our hearts, but...you didn't come to us the natural way.”
“What do you mean?” His eyebrows rose. “Are you saying I'm adopted?”
“Yes.” His father placed a hand on his shoulder. “But, there is more to your story than that.”
Just then, his mother returned with what seemed to be a page from an old newspaper. “This was from the night we found you.” She handed it to him, smiling.
Carlos studied the headline of the paper:
Florida Man Blames UFO Sighting for Reckless Driving Charge
**********
The Sunshine Gazette was not exactly in the same league as the New York Times or the Daily Planet, but Carlos understood that if he wanted to chase his dreams, he would have to start small. Unfortunately, he was having trouble starting at all: the past week had been utterly boring with not even a dog show to write about. How was he supposed to be a reporter when there was nothing to report?
“Did you check the blotter?” Marcus stood in the entrance to Carlos's cubicle, sipping a coffee.
Carlos blinked at him. “The what?”
“The police blotter.” Marcus motioned vaguely towards the door with his cup. “It's great for filling space on slow news days. Just go get a copy, Man!” He took another sip of coffee and walked away.
Carlos stared at the blank screen on his word processor for a moment, then grabbed his keys and headed down to the local police station. An hour later, he returned to his desk with a freshly-printed sheaf of papers. Most of the activity listed was fairly mundane: shop-lifting, a few traffic violations, some petty vandalism, and so on. One blurb, though, held promise. After a few phone calls, Carlos typed up the story and submitted it to his editor. The next day's edition featured his first ever front page article:
Florida Man Arrested for Stealing Flamingo from Zoo
**********
“You're leaving?!” Mr. Russell set the resignation letter next to the newspaper mock-up on his desk and leaned back in his chair, gaping at Carlos. “But...why? If you need more pay—”
Carlos shook his head. “It's not that. Like I said in the letter, it's...personal.”
The editor's eyes narrowed. “So, what are you going to be doing, then?”
“Traveling, mostly.” He tried not to fidget. “I just...want to broaden my horizons, you know?”
The editor continued to stare. Finally, the older man sighed and rose to shake his hand. “Well, I'm certainly sorry to see you go, but I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.”
Carlos returned the shake earnestly. “Thank you, Sir. I'm definitely grateful for the time spent working here.” He turned around and reached for the door, keeping his gaze away from the mock-up and its pasted headline.
Florida Man Survives in Car Thrown by Hurricane, Claims Angel Rescue
**********
“So, you say this was Lois's idea?” His father grinned, leaning against the dresser in Carlos's old room and watching him struggle with the shockingly tight outfit his mother had given him to try on.
“Not...exactly.” He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, grateful that his mother wasn't in the room. “She just said to bring a change of clothes to work, and I thought...I thought...” He picked up the accompanying sheet of red fabric, frowned, and raised his voice. “Mom, what *is* this?!”
Her voice called back from down the hallway. “I got the idea from our trip to the circus museum! If your disguise is really bold and eye-catching, people won't think of you as a normal person!”
“Definitely,” he muttered under his breath.
His father chuckled. “Your mother has a point: if you seem larger-than-life, they will not even think about an ordinary man working at the Daily Planet. With Lois.” He grinned again, pointedly ignoring the dirty look thrown his way. “They will think, 'No, that's not our Carlos, that is some strange wonder-man who does super feats'. Everyone will be impressed. Including Lois.”
He frowned at his reflection again. “Or she'll think I'm some kind of weirdo.”
“Nah!” his father stepped forward and slapped him on the back. “You're just like a luchador! All you need is the mask.”
“No mask!” His mother barged in, and Carlos quickly wrapped the red sheet around himself like a towel. “If he wears a mask, people will wonder who is under it.” She turned to Carlos, looking him over. “No, Mijo, that is a cape. It goes around your shoulders, like this—” She reached for the fabric, but Carlos quickly stepped aside.
“I'll...fix it later, Mom.”
She frowned but left him alone.
Once she was gone with the door closed behind her, Carlos reluctantly unwrapped the cape and slung it over his shoulders. He stared at the figure in the mirror—a garish and bold and larger-than-life figure, definitely nothing like Carlos. Yes, this might actually work, albeit with a few critical adjustments to the outfit.
All he needed was a name.
EndLink to FDK Thread
