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Chapter 10: If Tomorrow wasn’t such a Long Time . . . then Lonesome would Mean Nothing to Me at All

If today was not an endless highway . . .
If tonight was not an endless trail . . .
If tomorrow wasn’t such a long time . . .
Then lonesome would mean nothing to me at all.
--“Tomorrow is a Long Time”

****

The next day, I woke up a few hours before dawn. My sleep had been restless.

When awake, I had been able to consciously deny at times that I was worried about Lois . . . but when asleep, my subconscious took control and filled my dreams with her.

I donned my black outfit and turned off the alarm clock, though it had never had a chance to buzz. Then, I made certain my locket was tucked beneath my clothes, as it wouldn’t be good for such an identifying feature to be visible if someone happened to see me. Pulling the ski hat all the way down over my face, I used my x-ray vision to ensure that I would be able to leave the Hotel Apollo without being seen.

I was at EPRAD in a flash, and I hid in a place that required floating but in which I would never be found unless someone was looking for a man dressed all in black who could fly . . . . And there was a fat chance of that.

It was early yet, but it was much better that I be too early to the launch than too late.

There was a lot of activity at EPRAD as people prepared for the launch of the transport vehicle, and at last I saw the colonists entering. Lois, as I had suspected, was with the rest of the group, but I almost didn’t notice her because she was wearing a blonde wig. I shook my head. Evidently, she didn’t want anyone to recognize her either.

I continued watching Lois’s progress to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble than she was in already. I saw her as she went into a small unoccupied room in the habitation module. I watched as she carefully strapped herself in. And then I noticed her gaze move to a blinking light.

To say that I was fast when I flew to the launch vehicle would be to relish in the use of a litote. I was at the transport in the blink of an eye, worrying less about being conspicuous and more about saving the lives of the adults and children who had boarded the transport.

What happened next happened quickly as well.

I pried open the outer doors to the transport and reached Lois’s room just as she was unstrapping herself. She yelled something at me as I approached the bomb, but I didn’t pay any attention. Instead, I pulled the bomb from the wall and found the small plastic explosive inside. I thrust the explosive up underneath the ski hat covering my face and into my mouth, swallowing it and hoping that my powers had indeed fully returned.

After a millisecond’s hesitation, I grabbed Lois. She managed to start fighting me despite how quickly everything was happening, but I was stronger than her. I flew with her out of the vehicle at a speed that was fast but not dangerous to her. I deposited her in a safe place and returned to the launch vehicle. Then, I fixed the outer doors with my superhuman strength and heat vision.

The transport began to launch, and I felt the bomb explode inside me. I was unharmed, but I was unable to stop from belching, the action making me pause mid-flight. Then I continued flying away from EPRAD with one last backward glance, my heart pounding with fear at the reckless thing I had just done. Lois would be fine—and grounded on Earth. I wasn’t so sure how I would be.

I went back to my hotel room in the form of a blur too fast to be seen by human eyes. But I knew everything that had happened at EPRAD had been recorded by who knew how many video cameras . . . and broadcast live over countless televisions in several nations. And though the frames that had captured my form might not have been too much to worry about, I had physically carried the renowned reporter Lois Lane and given her enough time with me that she would at least be able to guess at my height. And it was possible I had also given something else away of myself that I wasn’t even thinking about.

I slowly changed into my work clothes, feeling numb. What had I done?

That was easy to answer. Something reckless. Something foolish.

There were so many ways my actions could have gone wrong. What if swallowing the bomb hadn’t worked? What if I had accidentally vaporized Lois by flying too fast? What if I hadn’t been able to fix the doors to the transport vehicle? What if my ski hat had come off? What if I had crushed one of Lois’s limbs in my haste to get her away from the transport?

Shaking, I took the phone off the hook—so my parents couldn’t call me—and buried my face in my hands. I shouldn’t have touched Lois Lane. I should have just left her on the colonist transport. She would have enjoyed it . . . and I would have been removed from her dangerous presence. But instead, I had returned her to Earth, effectively pulling her back into my life. And though it had been ever so brief, I had loved the feel of her in my arms. Being so close to her had felt so right. I hadn’t felt the softness of her skin through my gloves, but I had felt the gentle heat emanating from her body. Though I had held her only briefly, I had not wanted to let her go.

I jammed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t have been thinking such thoughts. I was toxic to her . . . . I was toxic to everyone. To think such things about Lois Lane was like blasphemy.

I lifted my head. I needed to return to normal.

Fumbling, I took off my locket and opened it. I gasped when the sudden barrage of pain hit me, and I forced my thumb to touch my grandmother’s picture. I groaned as I felt the searing sensation that was close exposure to the rock, and I removed my thumb.

A few seconds later, I let the locket drop into my lap, lessening my pain in some places but not removing it. As the poisonous radiation spread throughout my body, I found myself desperately wishing again that this didn’t have to be my life. But it had to be like this—I had decided that years ago. I couldn’t let myself put anyone in danger. I couldn’t let myself hurt anyone.

And so I let the pain grow. It swelled up to such heights that my grasp on consciousness became tenuous. But it was only when I was certain that my powers would be gone all day that I let myself close that tainted locket.

I collapsed on my bed, my chest heaving for air. And as my mind wandered, I remembered how I had come across the poisonous rock.

****

It was a Wednesday afternoon when Wayne Irig came knocking on my parents’ door.

With a smile, I told him, “Come on in.” I was always glad to see him.

“Hello, Clark, Martha,” he greeted as he entered. He always seemed glad to see us, too.

“Good afternoon, Wayne,” Mom said warmly. She was washing her hands to remove the extra bits of clay that had gotten stuck to them during her latest artistic venture. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Well, I have some trees that got knocked down by that storm last night, and I was wondering if I might get a little help in chopping them up. My back sure isn’t what it used to be.”

“I can help you,” I volunteered. Though only seventeen, I was really strong, and the work wouldn’t tire me in the slightest. I would just have to pretend it fatigued me.

Wayne smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Clark.” When I was younger, he might have tousled my hair, but I was too old for that now, and he seemed to respect that.

I rode in his red pickup truck with him to his farm, and we made short work of most of the trees. The last tree we went to was the big oak tree out in the back. It had been knocked clear out of the ground, and Wayne seemed sad as he told me about it, sighing, “That sure was a good tree.”

When we arrived at the tree, however, I felt a sudden growing pain in my body that just increased with every step I took. I tried to fight the pain—which was something I hadn’t experienced in a long time—but at last I collapsed at the base of the tree, unable to move any further.

“Clark!” Wayne exclaimed, kneeling beside me.

I lifted my head and blinked at the hole in the ground where the oak tree had been. I could see a faint green light. “What . . . is that?” I gasped.

Wayne glanced at the hole and then frowned. He dug around a little in the dirt, uncovering more of the green rock and creating a brighter glow. Clearly, the stones had no effect on him at all. “Looks like some sort of green rock . . . . ”

I was getting sicker by the second. “I think . . . I think I need to go home.”

“All right, Clark,” he said, sounding worried. He somehow managed to half-drag and half-carry me away from the tree to his truck, manhandling me to help me inside.

I felt as if I needed to be making excuses for my sudden sickness, but I honestly didn’t know what had happened, and he didn’t seem inclined to question me about it. So instead I just sat in his truck and allowed myself to enjoy relief from that bombardment of pain as we drove away from his farm.

When we stopped in front of my parents’ house, Wayne said, “You just stay here, Clark.”

“I can walk,” I protested.

“Stay here,” he repeated firmly. He hopped out of the truck and rushed up to the door, knocking loudly. Both my parents answered, and I could see him speaking to them for a few seconds before they all came over to me. The frightened expressions my parents had made me feel guilty, and I tried to smile at them in reassurance.

“Clark, are you okay?” Mom asked quietly as Wayne opened the door.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” I told her. Really, I was pretty scared myself. But I was trying to put on a brave front.

“Clark, we’re going to carry you out of the car,” Dad said.

“Dad, I can walk—”

“Listen to your father, Clark,” Mom stated. After hearing her no-nonsense tone, I wasn’t about to argue with her.

Wayne and Dad helped me out of the vehicle and carried me into the house with Mom following. They took me to my room, and then they stood in the doorway and talked in worried whispers. I tried to hear what they were saying but was unable to. I felt almost as scared as I’d felt when my powers had first started showing themselves. Only now, it was the opposite. They had disappeared. What exactly had happened?

Finally, I called out for Dad to come to me, and he did.

In a voice as quiet as I could make it, I told him about the green stone and how I thought it had made me sick.

“Are you sure it was this stone, Clark?”

I nodded. “Pretty sure, Dad. I don’t know what it is, but I have a bad feeling about it.”

“All right,” he said, patting my hand.

Dad and Wayne left the house. When Dad returned, I was still in bed, more due to Mom’s insistence than anything. At that point, it was hard to comprehend how much I had been hurting . . . . But what was even stranger than that was the loss of my special abilities.

When Dad came in, he said, “How are you feeling, Clark? Your mom tells me you can’t use any of your powers.”

I stared at my hands in contemplation. “It just feels . . . weird to feel normal, you know?”

He nodded. “I understand, son . . . . I want you to know, I picked up every piece of that green rock I could find, and Wayne didn’t say much about it. I put it in the barn . . . . I didn’t know what else to do with it. I figured maybe we can learn more about it later . . . . Mostly, I’m just glad you’re all right.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad.” I was so glad I had my parents to help me out. They didn’t care that I was different.

****

Later, by means of an ancient toolbox, we had chanced upon the discovery that lead blocked the meteor rock’s effect on me, just as it had prevented me from seeing through certain objects. Knowing about the rock was a blessing to me in a way, however, even at that first exposure. Somehow, it had stripped me of my powers. I had thought—and even secretly hoped, just a little—that the rock’s effect on me was permanent that first time. Though the effects had turned out to be only temporary, there was a part of me even then that realized it was good there was something out there that could render me powerless . . . and block out the cries for help that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

With a sad smile, I lifted my locket into the air and placed the necklace around my neck. The locket dropped down onto my tie and hung there like a shackle. It would be there for the rest of my life, bringing what I wanted so close to me, but still not enabling me to have it. I would be lonely today, and the next day, and the next . . . . And that was just how it would be. That was how it would always be.

I had some time to just rest and pull myself together, but finally I needed to leave for work. I probably should have looked for a television or called my parents—just so I could be prepared for the onslaught that was sure to await me at the Daily Planet—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

As I got into a cab and told the driver to take me to the Planet, I still felt as if my legs had been knocked out from under me. This had been the second time I had been forced to make physical contact with Lois Lane in only a matter of days. It could not bode well for the future. Especially since I had liked it so much.