A big thanks - again - to all of you who have commented on this story. More than once, your comments have helped me make this story better.
From part 16:
His smile became softer. “Lois, they’re looking forward to meeting you. Try not to worry, okay? I know it’s easy for me to say, but it’ll be all right.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “You’re right, of course…” And as his smile widened, she added, “It *is* easy for you to say.”
His hot chocolate laugh actually did relieve some of her tension, though.-----
The Girl Next Door, part 17:
Smallville wasn’t exactly what she’d expected.
Actually, she wasn’t sure what she had expected. She’d had a vague idea of a few buildings in a vast open space – she’d pictured the town sitting in the middle of a flat and featureless prairie.
Instead, it could have been one of the smaller towns outside of Metropolis. There was a town square with a courthouse – “Smallville is the county seat,” Clark told her - and a lighted fountain. There were trees everywhere - in the small park, lining the main street, and in the small, neat neighborhoods surrounding the town’s center. There were lots of businesses, and a fair amount of traffic. But it was early evening, so people were probably doing their usual after-work chores and activities, such as buying groceries, or stopping for pizza or a video. “Most stores are open until 9 pm,” Clark told her.
The Kents’ farm was several miles from the town. It looked a lot like she’d imagined it might. There was a farmhouse – two stories, wood and stone - painted white, with a wrap-around porch that looked like it would be a cool and inviting place to sit on a summer evening. There were security lights at the end of the drive and in the yard, apparently motion-activated because they blinked on as she and Clark flew over. The barn was big and solid and old, but again, it looked freshly painted.
They stopped and hovered for a few minutes – “So you can look around,” Clark said. “That’s the barn, of course – Dad uses it mostly for farm equipment now. It has stalls – this used to be a cattle farm. We have just a couple head now; Dad grows corn and wheat.”
There were a few other buildings – one looked like a smaller barn; one was apparently a storage shed, and one, she didn’t know what it was for. Unlike the other buildings, it looked like it was made out of cement blocks, which had also been painted white. There was a small concrete pad at one end, with a rusted round iron cover in the center. A big bell was suspended from a post set at the edge of the concrete pad.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That’s the milk house,” he replied. “And access to the water pump - that iron cover opens down into the pump area. They used to store the milk cans inside the milk house – it kept them cool until the truck came and collected them. It’s mostly used for storage, now. Mom uses part of it for her art and sculpting supplies, as well as the gardening stuff.” His mouth quirked into a grin. “Dad used to ring that bell when it was dinner time - I’d be out exploring, or fishing, or climbing trees with my friends; it was my signal to come home.”
As in the town, there were trees. Lots of them. There were quite a few around the house itself, and a row along the fence dividing the yard from the road that ran along the property. And there were dense strips of trees along the edges of some of the fields. Clark pointed toward a fairly large area of trees in the distance. “There’s a creek over there, and a small pond. I used to fish in it… And in that tree line –“ He pointed in a different direction. “…Dad and I built my tree house.”
“It’s all… so different from what I was imagining,” Lois told him. “There’s a lot more trees, for one thing…”
Clark laughed. “Most of the state is agricultural,” he said. “…Crops, cattle, and buffalo. And we have our share - well, I suppose more than our share if you compare it to New Troy - of buttes, mesas, limestone formations, and hills. And of course, there’s the prairie – there are no trees there, although it’s certainly not flat. It’s all rolling hills. Oh - and of course, Cawker City, Kansas, is home to the world’s largest ball of twine,” he added dryly.
Lois laughed. She was still laughing as they landed on the walk in front of the porch. Within moments, a small blond woman and a slightly older man had exited the house and were greeting Clark with hugs. Then they were turning to her.
“I’m Martha, and this is Jonathan. Hello, Lois – we’re so happy to meet you!” Clark’s mom told her with a smile. “Clark’s told us all about you.”
Involuntarily, Lois shot an alarmed look at Clark.
He threw his hands out innocently. “It was all good, Lois – I swear!” he said, laughing.
Martha laughed, too. She had the same warm laugh as her son. “Oh, Lois, honey, of *course* all of it was good. Now, you’re probably anxious to see the ship, I imagine, so let’s do that before dinner, shall we?
Within a few minutes, Lois found herself walking with Clark’s mom as they followed the men out to the barn. “I’m so happy he has you to talk to now, Lois,” Martha said with a smile. “He’s never had anyone he can share any of this with besides us. And I’m looking forward to being able to talk to you, too. We’ll need to get together again soon for a proper visit. We’d love to have you come and stay, and of course, you’re welcome to spend your holidays with us. You could come out with Clark…”
Lois wasn’t really sure what to say, so she just nodded.
Martha didn’t seem to need an answer, anyway. She continued happily, “After all, from now on, honey, you’re part of the family.”
Lois looked a little wildly at Clark, who had reached the open door of the barn and was waiting with his dad for her and Martha to catch up. It wasn’t that she didn’t *like* his parents; on the contrary, she liked them very, very much. But she was practically a stranger! She wasn’t used to being able to talk so openly about all of this, and it was a little overwhelming.
He smiled at her reassuringly. “Mom, we don’t really know for sure –“ he began.
“Oh, Clark, I know that. I wasn’t suggesting you marry her tomorrow, you know…”
Lois resolutely looked at the ground, resisting the urge to fling herself into the air and fly home. He’d never even *hinted* that he was thinking of anything… that permanent. And his mom *did* know that they might actually be… related, didn’t she?
“Mom!” Clark didn’t sound upset, just mildly exasperated.
“I’m sorry, honey – I’m embarrassing you, aren’t I?” Martha asked her cheerfully. Lois risked a glance at her as she continued, “I just meant that whatever happens, you have people here you can come to if you need to. Both of you. It might take quite a while to discover the truth, but there isn’t a deadline you have to meet. And in the meantime, it’s nice for both of you to have each other as a friend. A friend who understands you in a way that no one else really can.”
As the four of them entered the barn, Lois said softly, “He… might be my brother, Mrs. Kent.”
“Martha, honey. And yes, Clark told us that. If that’s the case, then we’ll welcome you with open arms as our daughter.” She stopped and looked Lois in the eye. “And if it turns out that you *aren’t* related, we’ll be just as pleased to welcome you to this family. In whatever capacity you are comfortable with, even if it’s just as Clark’s friend.”
This dynamic little blond woman was totally different in manner, lifestyle, and background from Mama. But they had the same warm heart, and standing here with Clark’s mom, Lois felt closer to Mama than she had in a long, long time.
She wasn’t going to cry again. She’d been doing altogether too much of that lately. “Um… where is the ship?” she asked. Looking up at the loft, she continued, “Do you keep it up there?”
“Oh, no, Lois.” Martha gestured toward the back of the barn, down a wide passage between two rows of empty stalls that led back under the loft. “At haying time, there are people all over that loft. We keep it down in the cold room.”
“The… cold room?” Lois asked curiously. “Is that like a… root cellar or something?”
“More like – oh… a basement.” That was from Jonathan, who was waiting for them at the end of the passage.
“Barns have basements?” Lois asked. She’d never pictured that.
Clark laughed. “It sounds funny, doesn’t it?” he asked cheerfully. “But no, not a basement. It’s in the lower area of the barn –“ he gestured through the door at the end of the passageway, and as Lois stepped through, she could see that there were several steps down into an area that was noticeably cooler than the main part of the barn. There were smaller stalls, or pens, in this area, and another door at the end.
“This was where the smaller animals – sheep and goats, mostly – were kept, years ago,” Jonathan said. “When my grandparents owned the farm. Before the milk house was built, the milk from the sheep and goats was kept down here, in the cold room. They didn’t have refrigeration, so they relied on the natural cooling from under ground.
“Now, of course, we use it for storage,” Martha added. “We keep potatoes, apples, and much of our canned produce down here.”
The cold room was actually quite a lot like a basement. There was a lightbulb, nice and bright, in the center of the ceiling, and there were shelves along one wall. There were what Lois assumed were canning supplies – two huge metal pots, a multitude of empty glass jars and lids, and a whole section of canning jars, all neatly labeled. Extending her vision slightly, she read some of the labels with interest. Stewed tomatoes, dilled carrots, dilled green beans, chutney, salsa, peaches, plums, apple butter, sweet pickles, pears, winter compote… She didn’t know what all of those were, but she was impressed with the sheer variety of foods.
There were also boxes labeled ‘Seasonal’ and ‘Christmas Ornaments.’ She didn’t see the ship, though. She’d thought that maybe, like Mama, they would have it wrapped in black plastic garbage bags, but there was nothing like that at all. “Where…?” she began. Would they mind if she just started… scanning through things?
With a grin, Clark lifted a large box from one of the lower shelves and set it on the floor. According to the preprinted cardboard, it had once held a computer monitor – one of the old ones, judging from the size of the box. ‘Party Supplies’ had been scrawled on it in marker. “In there?” she asked, and looked through the cardboard to see that the ship was, indeed, inside. “It’s… so small.”
“Well, honey, he wasn’t real big,” Martha reminded her. “We estimated he was about eighteen months old when we found him. And he was small for his age, according to his pediatrician.”
Lois glanced at Clark.
He grinned at her. “Obviously, I grew.”
She moved nearer as Clark folded back the box flaps, lifted the ship out, and set it on the floor. “May I -?” she asked him.
“Of course.” He brushed his hand over the top of the ship, and the lid opened smoothly.
She dropped to her knees beside the little ship and peered inside. The interior was only just large enough for a baby or a very young child, with very little room to move around. Toward the front of the compartment, there was a small recessed area about the size of Clark’s globe. “Is that where…?”
“Yes.”
She looked more closely at the ship’s interior, using her special vision. She was aware that Clark, who had knelt down beside her, was doing the same thing.
Finally, she sat back on her heels. There was nothing else inside the ship. No compartments, no clues of any kind. She looked at Clark.
“Nothing.” They said it simultaneously.
“And there are these…” Clark indicated the symbols etched along the edge of the opening. She recognized the ‘S,’ but nothing else.
“I wonder what it says?’ she mused. The flowing, fluid-looking symbols went all the way around the ship’s opening. A few of them looked vaguely familiar; there was a sort of ‘K’ with an extra hook at the bottom, a very stylized ‘Z’ whose lower edge curled back on itself, and a slanted sort of ‘F’ that extended far above and below the other symbols – but everything else was unrecognizable. “I don’t suppose any of this means anything to you?” she asked Clark without much hope. He’d been awfully young…
“No.” He sighed. “I was pretty sure there wasn’t anything here,” he told her, “but I couldn’t help hoping maybe I’d missed something…”
She’d been hoping the same thing.
But she wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “We aren’t giving up, Clark,” she said almost fiercely. “We *can’t*. There *must* be something, somewhere…”
“Maybe you should take the inscription with you…” suggested Martha. And as they both looked at her in inquiry, she continued, “If you were to treat it like a code, maybe…”
“…How?” Clark asked.
“Take a rubbing of the letters,” she answered. “Clark – Lois – one of you must know someone who is good at languages, or codes…”
Jonathan spoke up. “Martha, do we really want to bring someone else into this?”
Lois had already noticed that he let the others do most of the talking, but that when he did speak, everyone listened. He reminded her, in a way, of one of her college professors – a man who had been a genuine mentor to many of his students, and who had had a wealth of commonsense, practical solutions to the various questions or problems some of them had had.
“Well, no - maybe not,” Martha conceded. Turning to Clark, she asked, “What about your friend, Jim – would he have access to a… computer decryption program, maybe, or something like that?”
Clark answered doubtfully, “I… don’t know, Mom. I’d have to think about that… I mean, it’s not a *code* - at least, I don’t *think* it is – it’s a language. And how would we explain it…?”
Lois added, “Even if we told someone - Jimmy, or some language expert – that Superman asked us to help him with it, what if it says something… well, revealing? About Clark, I mean?”
“Good point.” For a moment Martha didn’t say anything else. Then with a sigh, she said, “Well, let’s at least do the rubbing, though… maybe you two can quietly work it out on your own. Maybe your friend could just supply the software, but not be involved in its actual use…”
Lois glanced at Clark. It was a good idea; then they wouldn’t have to keep pulling the ship out of storage each time they wanted a look at the inscription, or whatever it was. She suppressed a giggle. Maybe it said something along the lines of ‘to open ship, press here.’
“That’s a good idea, Mom. Then we’ll have it if we need it, and we won’t have to keep taking the ship out of storage each time we want to look at the inscription – if that’s what it is. Maybe it’s just… instructions of some kind…”
Lois started and stared at Clark. Was that just coincidence, or had he…
“I still have some of Clark’s crayons.” Martha’s voice distracted her from the thought.
“Mom!”
Martha laughed. “I’ll go get them, honey.”
---
Dinner was so far from the ordeal she’d been expecting that Lois wondered why she’d been so nervous about it.
Martha was a good cook but not a pretentious one. The table was set, neatly but not overwhelmingly fussily, with green- and blue-patterned stoneware. The silverware and glasses were simple and understated.
The conversation was warm and friendly, and Clark’s parents were knowledgeable about a wide variety of subjects and current affairs. They lingered over coffee, still talking, and Lois found herself comparing this meal with the meals of her childhood. No wonder Clark had grown up to be the kind of man he was, with this couple loving, guiding, and mentoring him.
After a quick consultation with Clark as they had prepared to leave Metropolis earlier in the evening, Lois had brought Mama’s box of keepsakes with her. At the last moment, she’d retrieved the little photo album from her bedside table and added that to the box.
Once the table was cleared, she showed the items to Martha and Jonathan, at Clark’s prompting. Martha exclaimed over the baby outfit as only a mother would: “Oh, Lois, what a darling outfit, honey! You couldn’t have been more than three months old or so, from the look of this. Look how tiny you were! And your mother found you just like we found Clark? Do you have any photos?”
And when Lois showed her the photos in the album, Martha reached out and placed her hand over Lois’s. “Oh, honey… You were just precious, weren’t you?”
Lois wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead, she said, “There are only a few pictures, but Mama saved some other things, too…” No one else had ever seen the little album until she met Clark. Now not only had she shared it with Clark, but she was showing it to this small, energetic woman whom she hardly knew – and yet, it felt like she’d known Martha and Jonathan for a long, long time.
“Is this your mother?” Martha softly asked her now, indicating the picture taken at the kitchen table so long ago.
Around an unexpected lump in her throat, Lois replied equally softly, “Yes.”
Clark reached out and took her hand, squeezed gently, and then kept hold. She curled her fingers around his. Whether or not he was… Well, whatever he turned out to be, it was… good to have his support.
“I wish we could have met her,” Martha said. “She looks… well, you can see where your loving heart came from, Lois.”
Lois stared at her in surprise. How could this woman, who’d only met her tonight, see something like that? Clark had said it, of course, but he was… Well, Clark was… her friend. He’d been hanging around her for a while now, long enough to maybe see some of her more redeeming qualities. But…
She glanced at Clark, who smiled at her and said softly on a laugh, “I told you the same thing. Do you believe me now?”
She looked back at Martha. “How do you…” She trailed off. She didn’t even know how to ask what she wanted to know.
“Lois, it’s obvious to those who love you,” Martha said gently. “Maybe to someone who doesn’t look past your job, it’s not so obvious. But we – Jonathan and I, and Clark, of course – we see the whole ‘you.’ And honey, it just *shines* out of you.”
She held up her hand, guessing – correctly - what Lois was going to ask next. “And yes, we love you already. We felt like we knew you from listening to Clark talk about you, you know. And it’s obvious how he feels about you, and you about him. How could we not love you?”
Lois felt Clark’s hand tighten on hers. “Mom…”
“I know, Clark. According to what we know so far, you may well be sister and brother.” Lois was impressed by how matter-of-factly Martha was able to talk about it. “But we don’t know for sure, honey. And I don’t know… maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I don’t see a lot of family resemblance… Do you, Jonathan?”
“Martha, there’s no way to really answer that. How many times have we heard, from more than one person, how much Clark looks like your mother, or my younger brother, or Aunt Anna? It’s often a matter of perception. Lois and Clark are both dark-haired, dark-eyed. But their faces have different bone structures. But then again, they both arrived in space ships, from the same place. And they have the same... I don’t know what you’d call it - family crest?” He sighed, and glanced around at each of them. “I know that’s not what you want to hear…”
“We thought about some kind of… genetic testing,” Clark said. “But we wouldn’t be able to provide blood samples…”
“They’re starting to use other things for DNA testing now,” Martha said. And when they all looked at her in inquiry, she shrugged and said, “When Clark told us about… Well, I found an article in a recent issue of Scientific American at the library. It said they’re starting to use hair – you have to have the root attached – and skin swabs from inside a person’s cheek. The article said it was as accurate as blood samples for forensics, paternity testing, and carrier screening – you know, before a couple has children, if one of them has some sort of risk for a disease… It’s very new and very expensive technology, much more expensive than blood testing. But the article also said that unless you have samples from one or both parents, siblingship testing isn’t very accurate. So even if we could find a lab that could do it…”
“If that’s what we have to do… “ Jonathan sighed. “Bottom line – we just don’t know. Until we know for sure, we need to keep looking for clues. Exploring different options. If that means trying this DNA testing, or trying to translate whatever it says on your ship, son, then that’s what you’ll have to do.”
There wasn’t really anything any of them needed to say in reply. Clark’s dad was right. The reality was that they simply didn’t know for sure. Yet. It was important to remember that. They didn’t know *yet*. But they would. They would keep searching for an answer until they found one. They *had* to. Lois refused to spend the rest of her life wondering, and maybe missing out on… Well, they just had to keep looking.
They took their leave of Clark’s parents shortly thereafter. Martha and Jonathan both hugged Clark, then hugged Lois as well. “Come back any time, honey,” Martha told her. “You’re always welcome. If you need anything; if you need to talk – you don’t even have to call. Remember that, okay? You aren’t alone anymore.”
Lois wasn’t able to answer. Whether she would ever take advantage of the offer or not, the fact that it had been made so sincerely rendered her incapable of speaking. So she simply nodded, and then on impulse, hugged Martha. The older woman hugged her back fiercely, and for a moment it felt like Mama’s arms.
Then Lois and Clark were lifting into the air, and after a last wave, they turned toward Metropolis.
---
As they approached the city, Clark said, rather diffidently, “It’s still fairly early… Would you like to stop by my place for a while? We could watch a movie, or just talk…”
Lois wasn’t really ready for their evening to end, so she welcomed the suggestion. “Sure. ”
They landed on Clark’s balcony and within a few minutes, Clark was making coffee while Lois sorted through his collection of videos.
They watched one of the more recent action films, each of them sprawled comfortably at opposite ends of his big, cushy couch. When it ended, Clark said lazily, “I’m too relaxed to move. How about you?”
From her corner of the couch, she laughed softly. “Yup, me too.”
He smiled across at her. “Rock, paper, scissors to see who has to get up and put in a different movie?”
She laughed again. Shifting to face him more directly, she opened her mouth to answer. And then sat up straight and stared.
“Clark, look!” On the shelf behind them, the globe was glowing brightly.
Clark was in front of the shelf within seconds, followed almost at once by Lois. He picked up the globe, cupping it in his hands as Lois had the first time she’d seen it. This time, however, it didn’t display the two worlds. Instead, it began to hum softly, although both of them could hear it without the use of any special senses.
There was a click, and then a sudden beam of light burst forth from no discernible opening on the globe’s surface. It played over the wall between the bookshelves before coalescing into the ghostly figure of a man. For a long moment it hung in space as they stared at it in shock.
“A… hologram, do you think? Or some sort of… projection?” Clark whispered.
As if the figure had heard him, it – he - turned toward Clark. The man was dressed in pants and a long tunic with elaborate embroidery along the sleeves and hem. He wore a gold circlet around his forehead. He appeared to be looking directly at Clark; they could almost believe the figure could actually see them.
The man raised one hand, palm upward, then brought it up to touch his chest over his heart. “Greetings, my son.” Clark almost dropped the globe, and the image flickered wildly for a moment. The recording, interrupted, resumed. “… you from the doomed planet Krypton.”
With a small, formal bow, the man turned toward Lois, and again, he appeared to be looking directly at her. With the same gesture of upraised hand to heart, he said, “Greetings, my daughter.”
Lois groped for the chair behind her and sat abruptly as her hopes crashed down around her. She could feel Clark’s anguish as if it were her own.
The figure flickered again, then stabilized. The man spread his hands, appearing to look at each of them in turn, and continued, “If you are seeing this message, it means you have found one another –“
One of them – Lois wasn’t sure which – made a low noise of distress.
Abruptly, the globe died.
She looked up, tears running down her face, in time to see Clark set the now dark and silent globe on the nearest flat surface. Without looking at her, he walked into his bedroom. From where she sat, she watched him move to the window, where he stood and stared out into the night, shoulders slumped in despair.
She had to go. But… where? She had nowhere to run to. Clark had become her haven, but she couldn’t do what her need was pushing her to do – run to him, find comfort in his arms.
He couldn’t be her haven. The treacherous attraction between them made it impossible. She couldn’t be expected to conquer it, to eradicate it, instantly upon learning the truth, and it wasn’t fair to Clark to expect him to do so, either.
With one last glance at the man standing, head now bowed against the glass in defeat, in the darkened bedroom, she turned toward the door. Maybe if she flew, and flew, and flew, she could find a way to change her mental picture of Clark from… what her heart desired… to that of her brother.
Within minutes, she was airborne.
Hours and hours later, as the sky was starting to lighten, she glanced at the stars to orientate herself, then turned toward home. On automatic pilot, she got ready for bed, crawled in, and pulled the covers over her head. She’d thought she was cried out, but once again, tears coursed down her cheeks.
She made no effort to suppress them.
-----
To be continued
