A/N: just note that I am guest posting; I didn't write this; my mum did.
We don't own anything. Except two cats and two guinea pigs.
Short Story – ALL THE DIFFERENCE
This is a fantasy re-write of back at the beginning of Clana.
Road Less Travelled – by Robert Frost (Abridged)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
Took the one less travelled by
And that has made all the difference
There was soft moonlight, and the blanket of night had muffled all sound. Lana felt troubled, as she had many times in her young life. But this was different, it involved her heart. It was times like these that Lana would sit out on the veranda, read, drink tea and use the quiet time to think. She would gaze up and out; but to what, she knew not. Contemplating the infinite made her problems feel insignificant. It felt to her like a pausing time, like the breath that one draws before plunging into water, as if the universe was waiting, just for her. She knew that, she felt it, but she was scared – scared of the unknown, the untried, and of the consequences of making the wrong decision. There were hopes and aspirations, both hers and other people's, paths lay out in opposite directions, waiting to carry her to widely different destinations.
Inside her head thoughts were swirling, currents eddying, patterns forming, only to be broken and re-form again. She felt confusion, she felt longing; she felt an indefinable itch between her shoulder blades the like of which butterflies must feel as they split their chrysalis and emerge in a bloom of wings. She thought about Whitney, and the patterns became tangled.
It was now the night after the Homecoming Dance. She had come out to look at the fencing work which had been started a couple of days ago, but left unfinished, and to be alone for a while. A lot was riding on her decision, and she wanted to make it fair for everyone involved. Her mind flitted back to that evening –here on the veranda, where she had been left by Whitney. He chose instead to go out for a rage with his friends. He hadn't even walked her to the door.
"Come on Lana, come with us – have a drink, loosen up! Let's have some fun." He cajoled, leaning out of the jeep.
"That's not my idea of fun, and what about Nell?"
"Nell thinks I'm her golden boy, she won't mind!"
"Thanks, but no thanks Whitney; I'm just going to call it a night."
Shouts of: "Come on!" "Let's move it!" "Leave her!" chorused behind him and the cavalcade sped off, horns tooting. As she turned to go inside she thought she heard the far away sound of sad music, a warm breeze brushed past her and she smiled. She felt like she would have enjoyed just one more dance.
He hadn't even called her today. The group had got drunk of course, and one of the boys, Sean, had been involved in a traffic violation, and so they had all stayed in Grandville to sleep it off. She only knew this because Nell had been into town and heard it from Sean's mother. Lana had been over to the gym too, and helped to clean up and pack away all the shimmering decorations, the tinsel hearts and hollow stars, the pretend world gave way now to the real one. She had packed away her dress this morning, remembering the "Pink Princess" comment she'd had from Whitney. It had been Nell who picked it out, to her, outward appearance was everything. Lana felt she could appreciate the beauty of things unseen.
While there, she'd heard some whispered news of her own.
"He had lipstick all over his shirt..."
"And a wrapper from one of them in his back pocket..."
"He's got what everyone else wants, and then he does this!"
"If I was poor Lana ..."
People stopped talking when she came too close, nodded to her and smiled and then started talking more loudly about the dance.
She considered what she'd overheard on her way home. Whitney, she concluded, was handsome and charming when required but the thin veneer of attractiveness was all he possessed. It was one of her fears that others would see her that way too, but had she yet done anything to prove that she had more substance? She knew instinctively there had to be more, something higher, something deeper to which she should aspire, and perhaps, some one, who had become increasingly more important to her and with whom she felt a connection. When she allowed herself to think of Clark the patterns that were so tangled before, shimmered brilliantly and spiralled off into infinite space.
A restless mind became a restless body and she got up to go for a walk. She had just gone a few steps when she heard the terrified whinny. She ran the short way to the field and immediately saw the problem, there was a section of loose wire and unsecured poles from the unfinished fence, and in their midst, a thrashing animal. The foal was still young, half grown, but strong and as it tried to escape from the tangle of wire, its legs pulled at the uneven structure, causing the nearest large fence post to start crashing down, while at the same time its head collided with hers, hard.
"Ohh!" she cried out, and flung an arm up to protect herself, flinching in anticipation of the impact - one image in her brain, of two clear green eyes under dark frowning brows, as if her thought could call him to her.
There was the sound of wood striking skin, then thudding to the ground, and receding hoof beats.
"Lana, are you alright?" She opened her eyes and looked up into the eyes of her vision, the brightness of concern suffusing into a softer emotion she couldn't quite identify. She had called to him in her distress, and he had come.
"Clark! How did you...? She changed her mind, "Oh Clark!" His arms enveloped her small body, waves of comfort washed over her, and she clung to him, her shelter from all storms.
"It's OK, you're safe now."
Clark rubbed her back slightly to try and soothe her, as he had done to the frightened foal, just a few seconds ago, after he'd caught the heavy wood that was going to strike them both. He felt her slight weight hang on him heavier, and moved to support her more completely. She took a deeper shuddering breath, and began to calm, but she felt light, drained and her head was aching.
"Should I take you inside, where's Nell? She needs to look after you." He couldn't tell her that he had already X rayed inside the house, and seen Nell asleep in a deep wing-back chair.
"No! Clark, don't leave me!" Lana pleaded, panic-stricken at the thought.
"I won't, I won't. For as long as you need me, I'll be here Lana." He liked the sound of that, but hoped he hadn't said too much. "You're faint though, come and sit down, at least."
He led Lana to the cane furniture just a few steps away. She sank gratefully down still surrounded by Clark's left arm. He found the chamomile tea she had been sipping and handed it to her wordlessly and gratefully she drank, even though it was cold, to wash away the taste of her fright. The hushed night and Clark's comforting presence, soaked her fears away, she let her head rest against his shoulder and neck, drawing his strength into herself.
"What on earth were you doing out there?" asked Clark quietly.
"I was trying to save the foal from being trapped in the loose wire, and then the fence started to come down. You stopped that post from falling on me, didn't you?"
"Yeah, that was lucky, I guess. But that doesn't explain why you were out there at night."
"I was going for a walk, I needed to think. Whitney really behaved like a jerk, he went out drinking after the dance and I overheard a few things. I was upset, and lately I've been feeling ...." She trailed off, not ready to reveal to Clark the things she had been thinking and feeling. He didn't press her to answer; she knew he would respect her silence. Reluctantly he moved her body forward slightly, away from his.
"I have to go for a moment and settle the foal in the barn, and you need a cold compress for your bruise."
"I'm fine now Clark." Her hold on him tightened imperceptibly.
"But I like taking care of you. I promise Lana, it will only take a moment. I'll be back before you know it."
He tenderly wrapped the picnic rug that had been on the back of the settee around her knees, and then he was gone.
He was as good as his word, in too short a time for her to organise her thoughts properly, he was back. Lana wondered if she dare tell Clark about her feeling that she had somehow summoned him. He softly stepped to stand in front of her, unsure now whether he should go or stay, but she decided that for him and patted the space next to her and smiled. He sat, and no words were spoken for a while. Both of them formulating what they wanted to say perhaps, but dared not. Lana was the braver of the two, she spoke first. She took his two hands in her small ones, and fixed her eyes fervently on his face.
"I need to know Clark, how you came to be there, at just that moment to save me."
Clark was transfixed, and couldn't look away from her; he began to mumble something about just happening to be going for a stroll, when she stopped him with a gesture of her hand.
"Just tell me." It was almost a whisper, but carried weight.
"I was in the loft and I just had a feeling I should go to the window, and I happened to see you ..." he surprised himself for actually telling her.
"See me? How?"
"Through my telescope."
It was then, in that crystal clear moment that Clark knew for certain, deep in each of his other-worldly cells that Lana Lang was and could only ever be, his destined one, for she simply smiled; that eternal, mysterious Mona Lisa smile that has captivated generations of men. The smile that says: "Yes.", "I know.", and "I understand." He allowed his revelation to grow with more words.
"I can't bear to see you hurt Lana. You're too special to me."
Lana lifted one hand to touch Clark's cheek.
"You're special to me too, Clark. I think I'm only just finding out how much."
As if by an unspoken agreement, two faces slowly approached each other, eyes closed, senses tingling, lips met, softly at first, one, two times, and then parted for a deeper kiss. Heads moved back, sighs were uttered, souls were satisfied.
Lana felt like she had found the answers to some of the questions she had been asking herself.
Clark felt as if he had received the confirmation of his hopes.
They held on to each other in a warm and exultant embrace, ignoring for the moment the uncomfortable feeling that they would have to part soon.
"Lana? " She raised her head from his chest to show him she was listening, but she dare not look at him. She did not want to see rejection in his face, if that was what was coming. "I'm not sorry."
"For what?"
"For wanting you to be mine, for hoping for the future, for kissing you. But I am sorry if I have made it difficult for you."
"Clark ... I don't know what to tell you. I feel such things inside me when we touch, that confuse me. You've always been there for me; I knew you were a friend. But now it's as if I'm some other person who's always known you in a much closer way. Like I've been asleep and now finally woken up. But I'm scared too."
"Of tomorrow?"
"No, of making the wrong choice, of travelling the wrong path – and not knowing it until too late. Tomorrow will come as it always does. Whitney will wake up, and not remember any of this. He'll still be my boyfriend."
"But you won't want him to be?"
"That's the thing Clark. I think, for now, he has to be. But then again, I don't know. Things have changed. It's really not his fault, he's just trying to live up to the expectations everyone has for him. Isn't that what we all do?
But you're special Clark, and I'm not, I know that you can do some unique things, I've been adding up some clues, but I feel like there's so much more out there for both of us to learn, almost like we have to earn the right to be together."
Clark nodded slightly, and Lana took it to mean that he understood. Of course he did, he was too good not to, but it didn't mean he had to like it.
Clark stood then, slowly releasing his hold, until their fingertips were just barely touching. He leaned forward once more, and pressed a fervent kiss to her forehead, "One day Lana, we will be together," and was swiftly gone, just another whisper in the night.
And so, here she was and the night was still calm, but she felt a prickling of apprehension on her skin, like she was being watched by a vast audience.
There was the safe way, the easy way, a pleasant way which afforded no regrets, and her heart did whisper in favour of this way, and then there was the way that held challenge, complexity, struggle and possibly sacrifice, but ultimately triumph. Was it cowardly to choose the easy path, to have what she wanted without making a difference in the world, or having made herself worthy?
Lana leant against her veranda post, once more watching the studded sky. The choice of path ahead was actually quite clear; she just needed to find the courage to tell him: to choose Clark now was just too easy, she did not deserve such happiness; she was, not yet, his equal.
Clark returned to his solitary stance by the loft window, and whispered to himself "I've already made my choice Lana, now I'll wait for you to make yours."
She looked up suddenly in the direction of the dimly seen barn window, almost as if she had heard him, and answered "I'll try and not make you wait too long."
"Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference."
She would begin her difficult journey in the morning, each step on the road bringing her back eventually to Clark's side and a joyous reunion, never to be divided again.
The End