Hello one and all! (To all those who had read this before I deleted it, hello once again! I had made some silly errors in spellings, while typing, and then I made the silliest mistake: I deleted the chapter instead of replacing it with the edited version. I hadn't come across the chapter replace option then. But now I have edited it and there is no stopping. More chapters are to come!)
This is my first Superman fiction, and it's quite different from the others, in the sense that in most of the chapters (not the entire story, though), there is more of other people than Superman, who isn't Superman yet, so let's just call him Clark. He hasn't recognized his abilities to fly yet, and even the other astonishing abilities which Superman is famous for. Some stories will surely be from the point of view of Clark Kent, but let's just see how other people perceive him before they come to know about his alien lineage. Apart from Clark, each story has a different protagonist who meets him.
Superman was the first ever hero to become my favorite and I hope I surely do some justice to him and his creators. Hope you all like it and please give your feedback. I'll be surely looking forward to those.
CHAPTER ONE
Melissa Turner knew she was going to have an unpleasant day.
For a start, she woke up late by an entire hour with a mild headache, which intensified in the last twenty minutes she had spent in haste getting ready for work. She somehow knew it was going to be a long day for her. "When you have a bad start, you often have a bad progress," her mother used to tell her, and she was hoping it wouldn't prove right today. She wished she hadn't come home from college walking in the rain yesterday.
She locked the door to her dorm room, deciding to make herself a cup of tea at Mrs. Hauser's. And then…and then she wished she could handle the kids alright. Without their mother for more than half of the day, she knew they would soon become unmanageable. Little Kenny, three-year-old, was alright. And so was eight-year-old Liz. She had no problem with Samuel. He would confine himself to his room and be busy talking to his friends on the phone. The trouble was with Bob. Among the four children, this six-year-old proved to be the most troublesome.
With a throbbing head and a growling stomach, she hurried across the wet streets. It must have rained the entire night. The sky was dark and it was a bit colder than usual. Funny, she felt as if the sky had started to spin.
"Hey Lady, look out!" someone cried from somewhere, and she realized too late the screech of the tires of the truck approaching her at high speed. She saw the huge front section of the truck zoom in before her as it approached closer within a fraction of a second. She knew that now it was impossible to get away from the middle of the road when there must be just a few inches for the truck to hit her and send her flying backwards. All thought left her and she only saw the grilled hood of the massive vehicle, feeling the roar and the heat of its powerful engine.
She never realized when she got onto the sidewalk. Suddenly there was a tall, bearded man with long, tied back hair, leaning over her and gazing at her.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Are you well?" he asked again.
"I…feel weak. The truck?" Melissa asked.
The man motioned behind her with his chin. She turned around. There was the truck at a halt, and its driver was getting out. He rushed over to her.
"Miss, I could have hit you," he said. "Are you drunk or something? Why don't you watch while crossing the road?"
"I…I feel strange. Weak. How did I get here?" Melissa said, pointing at the ground.
"This man rushed across the street and dragged you here."
Melissa looked at the bearded man with an immensely throbbing head.
"Thank you," she managed to say and blacked out.
It was another hour before she reached Mrs. Hauser's home.
"I thought you wouldn't come today," Samuel said. "Mom had to leave and she already called thrice in an hour before you arrived."
Melissa sighed.
"I'm sorry, Sam," she said, "I wasn't feeling at all well and I still have a headache. I think I might catch a cold or something. I might have just had an accident today."
"What happened?" he asked, growing quite serious.
"I don't remember clearly. I got all dizzy, and then a man from somewhere shouted and I realized too late that I stepped right before an approaching truck." She remembered the roar of the engine and its heat. She tried not to think about it.
Sam's expression softened.
"It's alright," he said, "Are you okay? How bad is the headache?"
"It's still there. It's lightened up, but still there." She decided it was not necessary to narrate the part where she fainted.
"Go and have something," Sam said, "Did you have anything? Eat anything today?"
Melissa shook her head.
"Then go and help yourself first," he said. "They are gonna be alright. I've left the TV on."
"And Bob?"
"He's watching too. And Kenny's upstairs, playing in his room."
"Okay."
She went to the kitchen and made herself some tea.
"Would you also like some tea?" she called out to Sam.
"I can," he replied.
Ten minutes later she poured hot tea into her cup and into Sam's. Then, taking a sip, she carried Sam's on a tray. The steam from Sam's cup reached her face and her thoughts went back to the grilled hood of the truck which radiated much more heat and sound. Forget about it Mel! You are okay, she thought.
"Oh no, Bob! It's not a ball! You don't play catch with the remote!" She hurried over to the kid across the room, who was playing with the TV remote in a way as if it were baseball. "It's not a ball. Mommy's gonna be very upset if you damage it. Come on, Bob! Give it to me. Or I'll tell Mommy not to come home!"
The warning about his mother calmed him down. Melissa took the remote from him.
"Will she come back now?" Bob said, putting up an innocent look on his face.
"Yes, but you have to promise me you're gonna be a good boy today, okay? You see, Melissa's not feeling so well today. She's got a headache." The child nodded. "And," Melissa continued, "I might catch a cold today. So if you be naughty, I'll have to be near you the whole day today. I guess then I'm gonna have to stick to you, and if I do that, my cold might say hello and pass over to you too.
"Now, Bobby," she said, putting up a sympathetic face, "do you wanna be sick too?"
"No," said Bob.
"Good. Then you be a nice kid today, okay Sweetie?"
"Okay."
"Melissa." Sam said entering the room. "Were you about to be run over by a truck today?"
Melissa, for sure, was startled. How did he come to know? She nodded.
"My friend Scott called me up just now," said Sam, "And he said that you came just before a fast-moving truck. He was there. Said he recognized you. Said you tried to cross the street as if you were sleep-walking. He said you fainted. My God! Is it that bad?"
"Just a bit of a headache, that's all," she said. "I am fine now."
"What happened? You didn't get drunk with those friends of yours, did you?"
"No! Of course not! I just walked in the rain, yesterday, and now I already feel a burning sensation in my throat."
"You're gonna catch a cold. What happened then?"
"What? Then I woke up today with a throbbing head. I told you."
"Scott told me some man dragged you across the street at light speed?"
"Now, did he? I don't remember being dragged. I remember being swept, maybe," she said.
"And he also told me that later the truck driver was complaining about a huge dent on the hood of his truck?" said Sam.
"What? I…I don't know about that. It didn't hit me. It wasn't me!"
"And he also told me that you fainted?"
"Yes. Yes, I did, Sam. I did. I passed out."
"Mel…I think you should go home. Take some rest. I'll manage the kids. Really."
"No, Sam. It's alright. It's my job."
"What happened then?"
"I blacked out," she said, "and when I came to, the man was gone. But the other people said I was only gone a minute or two. I woke up on a bench near the sidewalk and then-"
"What happened to Mel, Sam?" Liz said, looking up from the TV.
"She's sick, Liz," Bob said, "And she's gonna catch a cold. Stay away from her. SHE'S DANGEROUS!"
"Hush! Bob! Don't scream!" Liz said.
Sam ignored then. "And you came here straight off?" he asked.
Melissa nodded.
"I was already getting late," she said.
"God! Just…just go home Mel! It'll be alright."
"I'm much better now. I'm having tea. Look! Its' hot and so it's good for my throat. Plus, I can have something else if I want to!"
"But I think it is fine if…AARGH! BOB!"
Bob had just bitten Sam on the hand.
"Why did you do that? Really!" cried Sam, rubbing his hand.
"I'm hungry."
"WHAT!"
"I wanna eat something!"
"And my hand's food? Stupid KID! I wonder. How did Mom bear you? I swear! This kid's mental!"
"I wanna eat sandwich!" Bob said.
"For heaven's sake!" cried Sam, "Then make yourself one. My hand's not a sandwich! Stupid kid!"
"Bobby! Go back to your sister on the couch. Sam, let me look at that," Melissa said, examining Sam's hand. "Bob! Oh it's so pointless talking to you!" Sam's hand had begun bleeding. "Sam. I'm gonna have to put some antiseptic over there. You stay here."
Melissa hurried to the bathroom. She took out the first aid kit from the shelf. Opening the lid of the box, she looked at herself on the mirror. She saw her pale reflection staring back at her. She looked at her eyes, if they looked reddish. And then she remembered those staring into blue eyes of a bearded stranger with long, tied-back hair who had stopped a huge truck from turning her into human pulp. She kept on staring at her reflection without the least of any idea why. Did she look paler than usual? She wasn't usually a pale face. She might surely get ill by evening. She imagined what would happen to her if she had been crushed under the wheels of the truck. The thought was terrifying. She decided not to think about it anymore. It had been a close call.
While she was speculating herself on the mirror, she felt her head spin and she lost balance all of a sudden. She held on to the wash basin for balance. Her headache was still there, and she had started to fill dizzy now. Should she really take leave from work for the day? She decided she would try staying as long as she could. Her father had always taught her to be an honest worker, but would it mean dishonesty if she left work because of not feeling well?
She took out some cotton and was about to reach for the antiseptic.
CRRASH!
She came out of the bathroom to find out what had fallen and broken, already assuming Sam was smashing things around out of anger. She looked around for what had broken, but there wasn't anything she could find.
"Sam, what-"
The flat-screen television had fallen from its stand and was on the floor, with hundreds of broken glass pieces across the floor.
"How did this happen?" Melissa asked. "Who did that?"
None of them answered. Even Bob was quiet.
"Will someone tell me who threw the TV? Sam?"
"Melissa…didn't you feel the jerk?" Sam said.
"The TV fell down by itself," Bob said.
"There was a sudden jerk and it fell down," Liz said.
Suddenly Melissa realized that back in the bathroom it wasn't her head that had spun. It was the ground.
"I think it was an earthquake. Let's get out of here. Go, Sam, take Liz and Bob. I'm coming out with Kenny!"
Just as she spoke, the earth began to shake again. This time, more violently.
"No," Sam protested, "I'll take Kenny!"
But Melissa had already dashed upstairs.
So he took hold of Liz and Bob and together, they rushed out. Melissa ran upstairs and dashed to Kenny's room. She opened the door to his room, but there was no sight of Kenny. She opened the bathroom door and checked in, but he wasn't there. Then she looked under the bed, and the kid wasn't there too. Hoping that he was there hiding inside the cupboard, because there weren't any more hiding places in the room, she opened the cupboard, but he wasn't there.
The jerking didn't stop. Instead, it had just intensified.
"KENNY! Where are you?" Melissa cried, "We've got to get out of here! Kenny!"
There was a very big jerk and Melissa lost balance and fell down onto the floor. Just then, a part of the roof collapsed and hit the floor inches from her. She tried to stand up, but the quake had gotten more and more terrible.
It was then that she heard a child's scream.
"Ken! KENNY! Tell me where you are. I'll get you."
Holding the door knob for balance, she got up and hastened out of the room. Please. Please shout once more Kenny! I don't know where you are hiding!
"Kenny! Where are you? I'll get you. I'm coming. Just tell me where you are." She heard the staircase banister fall down. "Please tell me where you are." But she knew it was useless. She could not expect a three-year-old to remain calm during such situations and call for help. A three-year-old would do what he pleased, even at crisis. At most, he could scream, not for help, but out of fear.
Another part of the roof collapsed. Following that she heard another scream.
"Gotcha!"
She hurried across to Mrs. Hauser's room. Kenny was not at sight. But surely the sound had come from here. She looked under the bed and saw a terrified three-year-old face, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was crying.
"Oh Kenny! It's okay. Look! Melissa to the rescue! Let's get you out of here."
She extended her hands and Kenny extended his.
"Come on," Melissa said.
Kenny held onto her and together they rushed out of the room and down the stairs. Just as they were nearing the middle of the stairway, it gave away and they fell down. The earthquake had gotten more violent.
Melissa's headache hadn't receded, and her head began to pound cruelly now. She tried to get up but couldn't. Pain shot up her left arm when she tried to get up, and she realized, when she saw it, that she must have broken it. There was no doubt from the way it had started swelling up.
"Kenny!" Despite the pain, all thought left her when she saw that the kid lying face down beside her wasn't stirring, wasn't responding to her. "Kenny! Oh my God! Oh no!"
When broken pieces of the roof fell all around them, the kid jerked and stirred, to Melissa's relief. But then she saw that Kenny's forehead was bleeding. Melissa tried getting up again with her other hand, but realized that it was of no use. She was injured on her right arm. She dragged herself closer to Kenny and while doing so realized that she had fractured her left ankle too. She hugged him however she could with her good hand.
WHAM!
Another part of the roof collapsed near them. Melissa saw to her horror that whatever of the roof was left out, it was just above them and if that fell, they were done. She tried moving, but could not. But it would hardly help. Big broken pieces surrounded them and there was little space to move.
The roof cracked. Melissa tried again to move but just couldn't. So this is it, she thought. The roof was about to fall. Mom! Dad…Brian! The faces of her parents and her ex-boyfriend flooded her mind. Suddenly she wished she hadn't left him. He wouldn't have left her. It was so stupid of her to have broken his heart! Another sudden jolt and the broken roof came rushing towards her. She closed her eyes. Ready to embrace death. All along she had been so scared of what death would taste like. Now she could know. Or, could she? Maybe she was meant to die today. There was a truck that was about to hit her, if not for the man who had rescued her and only delayed the process. It was useless, it seemed.
WHAM!
Whatever had remained on the roof had just hit the ground and shattered.
But wait. Why didn't she feel any weight on her? Why could she not feel being crushed? Was the roof hanging somehow?
She slowly opened her eyes and what she saw, she would not forget for the rest of the days to come. There was a man crouching over her and Kenny as if shielding them. It was the same man who had saved her in the morning. What surprised her was that the broken roof had fallen on him and a part was still balanced on his back, but he didn't flinch or so much as moved a muscle. He was staring into her eyes. Blue eyes. Dark, long hair with a deep, bluish tint, reaching the lower portion of his neck, tied behind him. Long beard that covered the lower part of his face.
He stood up with amazing ease and the roof slid off of his back as if it were a blanket. He reached down and gently lifted her and laid her face down across his shoulder. She felt him bend down and pick up something else. Someone else. Kenny. He was laid the same way as her on the man's other shoulder. The man walked and Melissa saw, upside down, that he had just punched the wall and it collapsed, clearing a way for them to get out. The man resumed his steady walking and Melissa closed her eyes, surrendering to whatever happened to her next.
Sunlight streamed into the room. It woke her up.
"Cindy, turn the blinds down please," she said.
"Blinds are down, Mel," her roommate said, "Sun's shining bright outside. It's gonna be a fine day, I think."
Melissa hoped that it would.
Slowly, she sat up and stretched. She was almost about to raise her left hand, but remembered that it was on a sling. Nevertheless, she slowly stood up and went to the window. It was a bright morning.
It had been two weeks since the earthquake. Melissa had later found out that day that twenty-one houses had collapsed due to the quake, but there had been amazingly no deaths. All she had heard for the rest of the weeks was about a tall, muscular man, with long hair and beard, who had saved everyone. People talked of him lifting trees and breaking walls by his bare hands, but those who didn't witness him didn't believe them. Melissa too tried convincing the other people but very few believed her.
She had broken her arm that day, but not her ankle. It was, just as the man had said, and later the doctor, that she had twisted her foot. Kenny was alright. There were no serious injuries, no internal damage or bleeding. He had passed out not for any injury, but due to shock. As for the man, he had just vanished. Three days after the incident, when she could walk properly again, she tried looking around the town for him. But she could not locate him anywhere. He must have left town already. She could never know who he was or what he was.
Melissa knew there were people with amazing abilities and talents out there, but she had never seen or heard about people who could allow rooftops to fall on themselves and then slide them off their backs like blankets. Nor did she know anyone who could cross a street at light speed while dragging someone along. And it was true what Samuel's friend had said about the truck driver complaining about a dent on the hood of his truck. There was, as she was told later, a deep dent the size of someone's hand on the grilled hood of the man's truck. Its creator, however, was never seen again after that day.
Melissa knew that whatever had happened that day wasn't a dream- her broken arm and bruises proved that, but still, there was a nagging doubt: what if he wasn't real? What if all that had happened were a dream? If it was real, where was the man? How could there be anyone so powerful? Someone who could lift walls as if it were a piece of huge cardboard? How could anyone cross roads at light speed? Again: Was he real? Could there really be such a super man? Where did he come from? Where did he live? Where was he right now?
It was ten o'clock in the morning and it really was a bright and warm day. After all these days of drab weather, dull mornings and dull evenings, today was refreshing. Encouraging. Promising. The damage of the town was almost cleaned up and repairs had started last week and by now had been going on at full swing. Luckily no one was killed that day, and almost everyone injured could be seen walking again on the streets. The only confusing thing and a topic of discussion now was that this town had never witnessed such quakes before. This was surely the first time.
Like these recent days Melissa had gone out for a stroll around the neighbourhood and before she reached the door to her dorm room, her roommate called out suddenly from behind, "Mel…there's someone who has come to see you. First thing he asked when he came here was 'Where can I find Melissa Turner?' He talks like some agent, you know," she came closer and whispered, "Seems like a stranger, but friendly enough. But I'd say, Mel, don't get lost in their words, okay?"
But Melissa already knew. She opened her door in frenzy.
Her visitor was examining a painting on the wall, his back turned to her, and when she had opened the door, he turned around.
"Hi Mel," he said.
Even though Melissa knew, she couldn't believe her senses. Happiness like never before overcame her.
"Hey Brian," she somehow managed to say.
He was enjoying the afternoon sun. He never understood why, but the warmth of the sun always seemed to rejuvenate him. He had an urge to sprint off as fast as he could, and he knew that "fast" for him was more than what other people considered for an average human being. But he wasn't an average person you would meet on the road, and by now he was absolutely sure of it. Nevertheless, he decided not to ponder about himself for the moment. It was a sunny day after a long time and he was happy. He was happy that he could do one of the things he had set out to do. He was happy that the people he saved two weeks back were once again up and about. He was happy after a long time for being different from others. He was doing what he had always wanted to do.
By now the highway he was on was three hundred and fifty miles from where he had saved hundreds of people from a very large earthquake, but his thoughts were still back there. He had risked his appearance. He was sure that by now he was already a topic of discussion throughout the town and the near-by places. That is why he had to flee the immediate next day. The world is not big enough for you, he remembered someone saying. Thanks to his long hair and beard, people would not recognize him that easily. But how long could he remain hidden? How long would he have to keep on changing personality?
Screw it. The weather is too nice for that, he thought. He walked on and on, enjoying the setting sun, not a trace of an idea in him as to where he would stop or when he would stop. He was a long way from home and had come this far. He decided he wouldn't stop right now.
