Only in my dreams
Part 19
"So you think that Clark will tell the world who he really is?" H.G. Wells murmured in disbelief and shook his head. "I can’t believe that," he added. He nervously fiddled with his glasses, belying his own words. "Be...besides, how would you know what this press conference will be about?"
I snorted impatiently. "This is what I’m trying to explain. There is this ..." I hesitated, not sure what to call it. Uncertainly, I stared out of the window, as if someone out there would be able to help me. But the area was deserted. "... this connection between us," I said and then turned back to Wells.
When had I actually started to trust the eccentric Englishman? But the alert eyes behind his round wire-rimmed glasses left little doubt that Wells was on my side. He blinked and his mustache wiggles as he listened to me attentively. Watching him confused me more than anything.
"I don’t quite understand it myself," I added defensively. "It's just ... I feel Clark has thought about doing this. I’m certain this…this vision - for the lack of a better word - came from him.” Suddenly I felt the irresistable urge to rush to Clark. My eyes focused on the small D for Drive on the automatic gear-shift lever. It was just a little movement ...
But Wells had placed his hand on my steering wheel and held it tightly. The attempt at stopping me was ridiculous though. After all I had to start the engine before I could ... Maybe I would arrive in Metropolis just in time, if I…! It was not yet too late to talk to him! Again my right hand tickled with the need to move. But what was I supposed to tell Clark?
"He has thought about doing it?" Wells echoed surprised and brought me back to reality. "I've always believed that his telepathy would work only with other Kryptonians," he said as a matter of course, scratching his head. That Clark and I might be sharing our thoughts did not seem to trouble him in the least. Other Kryptonians? I felt kind of dizzy. It was a good thing that I had not yet started the car.
"Telepathy ..." I gasped confused and completely forgot about the gear-shift. "Clark is telepathic?" Actually, I should not have been so surprised. It was just another detail Clark had kept from me. The thought was immensely depressing.
Well’s expression was serious as he nodded. "Indeed, he is. But I don’t think he is aware of it," he added in an attempt to soothe me. "You know, it’s the Kryptonian way of communicating."
"How do you know so much about these things? After all, Clark is the last survivor of Krypton, isn’t he?" I asked skeptically. I sounded foolish, like I was desperate to prove that there was something I actually knew about my partner.
Wells cleared his throat, uncomfortable. His cheeks flushed. "That's not quite ... no, I’m going too far. I must not tell her about the future ..." he muttered to himself before he turned back to me. "We need to deal with more important things. Do you know why Clark would disclose his identity?"
"There are other surviving Kryptonians?" I asked surprised and immediately changed back into reporter mode. I bit my tongue. Was that really important?
"Yes ..." said Wells reluctantly. "But that really doesn’t matter now. I wish I had just kept my mouth shut.”
I decided not to dig further. Guiltily, I tried to remember where we had left off. Why was I not able to stick to the real issue when it was all I could think about? I let my eyes wander back into the distance. The car was parked on a lonely country road with grassland all around. A few cows lazily looked over, chewing on their grass. This conversation suddenly seemed quite absurd. Time travel, Kryptonians ... That was all out of this world.
"So, why would Clark want to reveal his secret?" Wells repeated his question. A cow had lifted her head, as if she was interested in my answer. She turned the ears over to us.
I could hardly keep from staring at her. "He certainly knows about the blackmail," I replied, feeling like my throat was contracting.
There was so much more. Superman had once told me that he could not commit his life to just one human being. It had taken a long time for me to realize that he was right. If there was only one person who was obviously close to the hero, then this person would become a target. Then Superman had an Achilles heel that - unlike kryptonite – everyone knew about.
"He’s doing what he couldn’t do a couple of months ago - he is destroying Clark," I finally said, thinking I might choke on those words. My knuckles became white as I clutched at the steering wheel. I forced myself to let go of it. "He’s giving up on his last chance at leading a normal life," I added slowly and deliberately leaned back in my seat. All my muscles were painfully cramped.
I felt tears in my eyes that I could no longer hold back. No wonder that Clark had been so testy throughout the past couple of weeks. He finally admitted to himself what he had known from the moment he had heard his father's message. He would never have the life he had always dreamed of. When we had been in Smallville, I had seen how happy he was being just Clark. As Superman he had never been this relaxed, this serene.
"But why?“ Wells breathed in horror.
"This is Clark's business," I almost snapped. Embarrassed, I stared at the floor between my knees. The mat was full of crumbs. Lately, I had eaten far too many chocolate chip cookies and double fudge bars in this car. "He wouldn’t want me to divulge his secrets just like that."
But how much damage could I possibly cause? Our lives had completely gotten out of control, anyway. Clark was about to tell the world who he really was. Could it seriously be getting any worse?
"Please tell me why he’s doing that! I met Clark Kent, in more than one universe," Wells said desperately, blushing at that. He nervously cleared his throat before he went on, muttering an apology. His fingers gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles stood out white. "I realize how absurd this must sound. But you both have overcome so many obstacles, I mean ... uh ... you will overcome many obstacles."
With his free hand, Wells had conjured a handkerchief and dabbed the sweat from his forehead. His mustache twitched while he probably wondered what he should say next.
"I don’t know what ‘universes’ you’re talking about," I said, using my fingers to indicate quotation marks. "But in this universe there is no future for Clark and me.”
I sighed. Suddenly there was this uneasy feeling again that had taken hold of me back in the hotel suite. Ever since Clark had told me about his father’s message, I had tried hard to forget that he would never again be part of my life. At least not in the way I dreamed of. But I couldn’t keep pushing this nasty thought away. Clark was absolutely right. A clean cut was the only way to make this nightmare bearable. Why would I want to stop him?
"What do you mean, no future together?" Wells gasped distraught. "You two are soul mates, nothing could change that!"
"Soul mates?" I shook my head. "What does that mean?" I felt a glimmer of long lost hope. A soul mate… that is what Clark was for me, had been for me, whatever. But that was a dangerous, forbidden territory.
H.G. Wells was merciless, though. "You are destined to be a couple, anywhere and at any time, in every life," he said with dignity.
"I wasn’t aware that Buddhism had been a common philosophy in England in the late nineteenth century," I replied moodily, instantly regretting my words. Wells might be crazy, but he did not deserve to be treated like that. "I'm ..."
"It’s all right, Ms. Lane. I certainly understand your concerns. But I’m afraid this discussion is going nowhere." He opened the passenger door, got out and put on his hat. I had not realized he had been holding it the whole time. "Come and see for yourself, Ms. Lane." Suddenly he held something in his hand. I heard a high pitched tone, accompanied by a flash of light.
I squinted as I looked through the windshield. There was... well actually it was indescribable. A dark frame floated in mid air. It surrounded a shimmering blue surface that resembled water. It looked artificial, like a cheap trick - and yet frighteningly real. The appearance was similar to a window but at the same time looked like something else entirely. It had opened up right next to my car and stared back at me.
"Come on, Ms. Lane," Wells said, as his voice coming through the fog in my mind. "We will make a trip in time."
"Where?" I whispered silently. Against my better judgment, I climbed out of the car.
to be continued..
