FADE IN
On Jonathan Kent out in one of his fields, at work removing a large boulder embedded in the ground.
SUPERIMPOSE: SEPTEMBER 1931
Working with a long pry bar, he struggles to uproot the stubborn boulder. Though a virile man still, Jonathan is beginning to show the signs of age; his blond hair is starting to fade to a pale gray and he now wears his glasses on a permanent basis.
As Jonathan sweats and strains against the boulder, Clark walks up to him, his red-haired dog Rusty — son of Shelby — running circles about his heels. Seventeen years old, Clark has grown into a strapping young man — tall, broad-shouldered, and rustically handsome.
CLARK: Pa?
JONATHAN: (busy) Hrm?
CLARK: Can I help?
Struggling with the pry bar for a few more seconds, Jonathan finally gives the futile effort up. Taking off the hat he's wearing, he wipes his moist brow, sighing with exasperation.
JONATHAN: (steps back) You're gonna need something for leverage, son.
Stepping up to the boulder, Clark reaches under and uproots it, holding it aloft with one hand effortlessly. This is a Clark who wouldn't struggle lifting the rear of the Model T now.
CLARK: Where do you want it?
JONATHAN: (smiles) Let's take it to the barn, around back.
Leaving the field, they take the boulder behind the barn, where Clark gently sets it down on the ground. With a few short whacks, he splits the boulder up into smaller chunks to be hauled away later.
CLARK: Is it alright if I head off to the park? I was hoping to meet the gang there.
JONATHAN: All your chores done?
CLARK: Uh-huh.
JONATHAN: Then what do you need my permission for? (claps Clark on back) School starts tomorrow. Make the most of these precious few hours.
CLARK: (grins) Thanks, Pa.
JONATHAN: Just don't be late getting back for supper.
CLARK: Am I ever?
Before Jonathan can reply, Clark is gone in a flash. Shaking his head, Jonathan takes his hat and slaps a boulder chunk with it, smiling.
FADE OUT
BEGIN OPENING CREDITS
END OPENING CREDITS
FADE IN
On the park.
It is a sunny, late Labor Day afternoon. Though most visitors have retired home for the coming evening, several people are still present, playing games, flying kites, talking, reading, or just sitting and milling about.
Dropping out of super speed, Clark arrives on the park outskirts, well out of view of anyone. Checking his clothes over to make certain they are neat and clean, he proceeds onward, walking at a leisurely pace. He soon spots Lana and Pete. Like Clark, they, too, have matured into young adults. Pete is tall, almost as tall as Clark, just as handsome, but lanky in build. Lana, shorter than the two boys but still tall for a lady, is a beauty with large, thick-lashed eyes, full cheeks, and full, pink lips, a large congregation of freckles covering her exposed skin only adding to her natural beauty. Sharing a bench, the pair are deep in conversation, too busy to notice Clark.
CLARK: (waves) Lana! Pete!
Noticing Clark, they rise from the bench. Clark joins them.
PETE: (claps Clark on arm) Glad to see you made it out today, fella.
CLARK: Summer break's almost over. Like my pa said, "Make the most of these precious few hours." (beat) Brought the pigskin?
LANA: (brings out football) bien sûr.
Heading out to a clear area on the grass, the three begin playing catch.
PETE: (tosses ball to Lana) Returning to the Torch again this year, Lana?
LANA: (catches ball) Returning to this question again this year, Pete?
Lana tosses the ball to Clark, who tosses it back to Pete.
PETE: (catches ball) Well, yeah. This is senior year. (tosses ball to Lana)
LANA: (catches ball) So? (tosses ball to Pete)
PETE: (catches ball) You've been editor-in-chief of the school paper three years straight. Don't you wanna give something fun a run your final year? (tosses ball to Clark)
CLARK: (catches ball) Working on the Torch is plenty fun, Pete. (tosses ball to Lana)
PETE: You think milking cows is fun, Kent.
LANA: You'd rather I try out for cheerleading? (tosses ball to Pete)
PETE: (catches ball) Getting dolled up in a cute number? Hoofing it for the boys on the field? Flashing those grand gams of yours? A mite niftier than sitting on your keister in a cramped, fusty office getting an edge off mimeograph fumes, I can tell you. (tosses ball to Clark)
LANA: Sorry, Pete. Tried that freshman year; didn't take to it. (intercepts ball) Go long.
Jogging out, Clark spreads his arms high. Lana sends the football sailing through the air; Clark just barely misses it. He goes to retrieve the ball.
LANA: (to Pete) Though if you want to admire my grand gams, you need only ask.
As Clark returns with the ball, Lana hikes the hem of her skirt up to her thigh, affording both boys a lingering look at one long, shapely, creamy leg.
CLARK: (drops football) Hot damn!
Flashing a sexy grin, Lana drops her skirt back in place.
CUT TO
A couple hours later.
With the sun beginning to set, the three call it a day. Giving their farewells, they part to return home.
EXT. KENT FARM — BARN — SUNSET
Returning from the park, Clark crosses past the barn on his way to the house.
KENNY: (O.C.) Hey, Clark! Clark, up here!
Stopping, Clark turns and looks up to the barn. He can just make out Kenny standing in the loft's open door.
INT. BARN/LOFT — SUNSET
Clark climbs the ladder to the loft, where he finds Kenny sitting in a wooden chair by the loft door, casually sipping from a bottle of root beer as he looks out, seemingly a million miles away. As tall as Pete but even leaner, he'd look handsome if he wasn't so painfully thin.
Turning to Clark, the black teenager hoists up a small carrying case of root beer.
KENNY: Have one.
Clark silently takes one of the bottles. Placing his thumbnail under the rim of the metal cap, he pops it off with one flick of his thumb.
KENNY: I still haven't learned how you do that.
CLARK: Trade secret.
KENNY: You out with Pete and Lana?
CLARK: At the park, yeah.
KENNY: (looks out loft door) Those were the days, weren't they? Just us four, running wild all summer-long, day and night. (beat) Your folks always understood. My dad never did.
Clark takes a seat in a second chair beside Kenny.
CLARK: (takes sip) How's your pa? Doing any better?
KENNY: Worse. A lot worse. (takes sip) I won't be coming back this year, Clark.
CLARK: (frowns) What do you mean, won't be coming back?
KENNY: I'll be needed at the gas station full-time now. I won't have time for school anymore.
CLARK: Ken, this is our senior year. Graduation's this spring.
KENNY: And I know you'll make it — with flying colours. (finishes bottle) Keep the rest. It's yours.
Morose, Kenny rises and crosses over to the ladder.
EXT. BRAVERMAN HOME/FRONT YARD — TWILIGHT
Kenny arrives home. The Braverman home is a cottage in shabby, weather-beaten, but otherwise alright condition.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/LIVING ROOM — TWILIGHT
Within the confines of the cottage living room we finding AL BRAVERMAN sitting in a threadbare armchair, a bottle of moonshine cradled in his lap, listening to the Carter Family's "I'm Thinking Tonight of My Blue Eyes" as it plays tinily from the radio in the room. Eyelids droopy, lower lip hanging low, nose misshapen, chin unshaven, and frame and features positively skeletal, he is a homely man. His bleary eyes are quite yellow, but that could be due to the dirty lighting afforded by the living room's sole fly-specked light bulb.
As Kenny enters the cottage, he reluctantly steps into the living room doorway and stands there, watching his father for a sign of acknowledgement. Taking a long sip from his bottle, Al takes a gander at his son. Spitting a stream of saliva through the gap in his bottom front teeth, he returns to watching nothing.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/KITCHEN — TWILIGHT
Entering the kitchen, Kenny begins preparing supper. As he is retrieving the cookware, he halts, rests fingers against his mouth, then steps back out of the kitchen.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/LIVING ROOM — TWILIGHT
Kenny has returned to the doorway. Al has slipped into a doze. The bottle, held limply now in his hands, begins to tilt precariously forward, threatening to spill its contents. Kenny strides up to the armchair and stills the bottle. This action is enough to jolt Al out of his light slumber. Thinking his son is trying to steal his bottle, the ugliness of Al's face deepens with a scowl as he slaps Kenny hard against the face. Kenny rears back. Al stares hard at Kenny for several long seconds, then falls back into unconsciousness.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/KENNY'S BEDROOM — TWILIGHT
Kenny enters his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the home, this room is kept clean and relatively tidy, though there are books everywhere, hardcover and paperback, fiction and nonfiction. Closing his door behind him, he strides up to his desk. Opening the top drawer, he reveals the revolver nestled inside.
Withdrawing the revolver, he pulls back the hammer, aiming it at the bedroom door, in the direction of his father. As Kenny keeps the barrel of the gun trained in that direction, his face twists with deep-seated loathing, his hand and arm beginning to violently shake with suppressed rage.
INT. KENT HOME/CLARK'S BEDROOM — MORNING
Clark, wide awake, clad only in pajama bottoms, sits atop his bed, reading a paperback novel.
MARTHA: (O.S.) Clark Kent, you're about to miss the bus!
Hearing his mother's voice, Clark sets down his book and rises. Sauntering over to his bedroom window, he opens it and leans out. Allowing the cool morning air and warm morning sun to play across his bare skin, he closes his eyes, relishing the sensation.
EXT. ROAD — MORNING
Clark — groomed, in fresh clothes, notebooks in hand — comes to the top of the driveway just in time to see the school bus pulling away. He frowns, bemused.
INT. SCHOOL BUS — MORNING
Inside the bus, near the back, Pete and another boy share a seat. Looking behind them, they watch Clark's diminutive shape recede in the distance.
PETE'S FRIEND: (hands Pete 25¢) I can't believe you bet against your best friend.
EXT. ROAD — MORNING
Clark stands there, watching the bus shrink into the horizon. With his super hearing, he listens in on the two boys' conversation.
PETE: (O.S.) It's a statistical fact: If Clark moved any slower, he'd be extinct.
Once the bus has disappeared from sight, Clark's bemusement fades, replaced with a wry smile. Breaking into a run, the world slows to a crawl as he attains top speed. In seconds, Clark overtakes the school bus. Twisting around, running backward, he waves to the motionless vehicle and its oblivious passengers. Turning back 'round, he leaves the bus far behind him, eating his dust.
EXT. SMALLVILLE HIGH/ENTRANCE — MORNING
Clark is loitering by the school entrance, propped against a stone wall, arms crossed in front of him, when the school bus finally pulls up by the curb. Exiting the bus, Pete and his friend come to the entrance, where they find Clark in-wait.
PETE: (dumbstruck) How'd you get here so fast?
CLARK: (smirks) I ran.
Uncrossing his arms, Clark heads inside.
INT. SMALLVILLE HIGH/TORCH OFFICE — DAY
Opening the door, Clark enters the office of the Smallville Torch. Equipped with a pair of desks with a typewriter each, three file cabinets, and a table at the back complete with hand-cranked mimeograph machine, it is windowless, with bare brick walls — quite small, hell in less temperate seasons, but adequate for the needs of a small student newspaper. Lana, present at her desk, is busy at her typewriter, typing an article for the Torch's upcoming back-to-school issue. Setting his notebooks atop the other desk, Clark comes up behind Lana, leaning over her shoulder to peer at what she's typed.
CLARK: "Effluvious" has two "F"s.
Pursing her lips, Lana goes for her bottle of correction fluid, but Clark beats her to the quick. Uncapping the bottle, he applies the black fluid to the mimeograph stencil, covering up "efluvious". Once it has dried, Lana retypes the word with the extra "F".
Still leaning over her shoulder, Clark looks to Lana, and she to him. Her eyes, hazel, meet his, azure. In that moment, nothing exists for them beyond each other. And then the spell is broken. Straightening, Clark steps back, putting a hand behind his head. Confused, hesitant, Lana turns back to her typewriter. Retiring to his own desk, Clark begins consulting a notebook.
LANA: (faces Clark) Clark?
CLARK: (looks up) Lana?
LANA: (cont'd) Aunt Hel's back in Smallville.
CLARK: Is she?
LANA: (nods) For keeps. (beat) Her property's in need of sprucing up. She's looking for a part-time hand. (beat) You always seem to have time on your hands.
CLARK: I'll ask my folks tonight.
Lanas smiles tightly, then returns to her article.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — NIGHT
Clark is with his parents at the dining room table. They are enjoying a dinner of shepherd's pie with bean salad.
CLARK: Helen Winters' back in town.
MARTHA: Helen's back? (faces Jonathan) It's been ten, eleven years since we saw her last?
JONATHAN: (distant) About that.
MARTHA: We should pay the old girl a visit.
JONATHAN: (non-committal) Um-hmm.
CLARK: She's looking for part-time help. I figured ...
This gets Jonathan's attention.
JONATHAN: You have school work, and chores.
CLARK: Duck soup, pa. (beat) We could use the cash.
MARTHA: It shouldn't be a problem, Jonathan.
CLARK: It shouldn't, should it, pa?
JONATHAN: (frowns) It shouldn't. (beat) No, no, it won't.
EXT. HELEN'S HOME/FRONT YARD — DAY
Dropping out of super speed, Clark arrives at Helen's home. A two-storey house in fine structural condition, it nevertheless needs new shingles, a fresh coat of paint, and the surrounding yards weeding and mowing.
Climbing the porch steps, Clark KNOCKS at the front door. In moments Helen opens the door. Though her hair has gone salt-&-pepper and her face lined with age, she's still quite the handsome woman.
HELEN: Hello?
CLARK: Clark Kent, ma'am.
HELEN: (astonished) Clark Kent‽
CLARK: I go to school with your niece. She told me you were in need of a hand?
HELEN: Come right in.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Stepping aside, Helen allows Clark inside. Closing the door after him, she examines him head-to-foot then foot-to-head with her eyes.
HELEN: Clark Kent. You were seven years old the last I saw of you. (beat) You've surely grown.
CLARK: That I have, ma'am.
HELEN: (rests hand on Clark's shoulder) Will you walk into my parlour?
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — DAY
Helen and Clark enter the parlour. Guiding him to a small table surrounded by two padded side chairs, she sits him down in one.
HELEN: Would you care for something to drink, Clark? Iced tea?
CLARK: (nods) Thank you, yes.
Helen leaves. Shortly she returns, carrying a metal platter laden with two tall glasses and a full pitcher of iced tea. Setting the platter down on the table, she fills both glasses, then takes the chair opposite Clark. Hiking the hem of her brown paisley dress up, Helen crosses her legs, affording Clark an unobstructed view of them. Shapely gams clearly run in Lana's family.
HELEN: What would you say needs doing?
CLARK: (distracted) Excuse me?
HELEN: Around the house?
CLARK: (looks about room) Your home looks quite nice inside. There's no sign of termites or dry rot.
HELEN: (smiles) You've quite the peepers, haven't you, Clark?
CLARK: (antsy) Just my cursory examination, missus. (sips iced tea) The roof needs attending to, and the yard, certainly.
HELEN: (nods) How does 10¢ an hour sound to you?
CLARK: It sounds quite fair to me, Mrs. Winters.
HELEN: Miss Potter. But call me Hel.
CLARK: Hel it is.
Smiling, Helen fishes an ice cube out of her glass. Raising it to her mouth, she sucks at it. Clark doesn't fail noticing the fullness of her lips.
EXT. FOREST — SUNSET
SUPERIMPOSE: ELK MOUNTAINS, COLORADO
A large fireball comes streaking down from the sky above. Passing over the lush, verdant wilderness, the spaceborne object splashes down in a distant lake.
EXT. LAKEBED — STARCRAFT — SUNSET
At the bottom of the murky lake, mired in the dark mud, is a familiar starcraft, the telltale signs of meteoroid impacts marring its otherwise pristine chrome exterior.
INT. STARCRAFT/COCKPIT — SUNSET
We find Luma in her seat, suit and helmet sealed and unbreached, unmoving.
INT. SPACESUIT
Within the helmet's confines, we see Luma's face. Eyes closed, expression placid, the Kryptonian girl's features are unaged and uncorrupted; she looks exactly as she did the day she set upon her 42-year migration.
Around Luma's neck, the S-pendant begins resonating a white glow.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
Clark is with Martha, helping her with the dishes. As she washes and rinses them, he dries them and puts them away.
Quite suddenly, Clark stiffens. A strange expression comes over his face.
MARTHA: (frowns) Clark?
CLARK: Someone just walked over my grave.
He resumes drying the dishes, still uneasy.
EXT. HELEN'S HOME/ROOF — DAY
Clark is up on Helen's roof, replacing worn and missing shingles. Though he could do the job solely by hand if he so chose, he works with a hammer to disguise his particular talents.
Clark stops hammering. The sensation he experienced the night before is still with him — something in the atmosphere tugging at the peripheral of his senses.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Hearing a knock at her door, Helen answers it. Clark stands in the threshold, quite perturbed.
HELEN: Problem, Clark?
CLARK: I don't feel well.
HELEN: It's quite warm out. I'm not surprised. (touches his arm) I'll fetch you some water.
Nodding his thanks, Clark enters.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — DAY
Clark is seated in a chair when Helen comes in with a glass of water in hand; she hands it to him.
CLARK: (accepts glass) Thank you.
Clark swallows the water greedily, but it does nothing to dispel his anxiety. Stepping behind Clark, Helen rests her hands on his shoulders.
HELEN: May I?
Clark acquiesces. Helen begins massaging his shoulders and neck.
HELEN: How does that feel? Helps?
CLARK: (closes eyes) Hmmm.
Helen continues the massage. There is the trace of a smile on her lips.
HELEN: Clark?
CLARK: Yes?
HELEN: You needn't knock, if you want inside. My door is open to you (into his ear) any time.
Opening his eyes, he abruptly rises.
CLARK: I believe I'll call it a day.
HELEN: Are you alright to drive? Would you like a ride?
CLARK: I can manage. Thank you for the water and ... attention, Hel.
Giving him a brief, thin smile, Helen allows Clark to go.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — SUNSET
Clark is with his parents at the dining room table. While they enjoy a dinner of roast chicken and sweet potatoes, he just stares at the plate, disinterested.
JONATHAN: You're not eating.
CLARK: I don't have an appetite.
JONATHAN: (smirks) You rarely do. Hasn't stopped you before.
CLARK: I'm sorry. May I be excused?
His parents excuse him. Clark leaves the table.
MARTHA: (concerned) That isn't like him at all.
JONATHAN: (shrugs) Girl trouble? (resumes eating)
INT. KENT HOME/CLARK'S BEDROOM — NIGHT
Clark sits by his open window. Bristling with tension, even the cool evening breeze fails to soothe his nerves.
Turning his head, he looks up, toward the ceiling. Narrowing his eyes, he rises and leaves the window.
INT. KENT HOME/JONATHAN & MARTHA'S BEDROOM — NIGHT
Jonathan and Martha lie beneath their covers, quite asleep. As audible shuffling comes through the ceiling above, they are roused from their slumber.
INT. KENT HOME/ATTIC — NIGHT
At the back of the attic, Clark kneels, riffling through the contents of a large trunk. At the bottom, he finds a small oak box. Lifting it out, he examines it; locked. Using his strength, he forces it open, revealing an S-pendant nestled against the black velvet lining. An exact twin of the one worn by Luma, it, too, glows a bright white. Taking the radiant pendant from the box, Clark holds it to his breast. Relief surges through him.
Hearing a creak behind him, Clark looks over his shoulder; his parents stand there. Spying the glowing pendant in their son's hand, husband and wife exchange glances. A long moment of uneasy silence passes between the three of them.
JONATHAN: Son ... it's finally time to show you something.
INT. TRUCK/CAB — NIGHT
Jonathan is behind the Model T's wheel, driving through one of their fields. Clark sits beside him.
CLARK: Where are we going, Pa?
JONATHAN: We're going back in time, son.
EXT. KENT FARM — FIELD — NIGHT
Jonathan soon brings the truck to a halt. The headlights of the Model T fall upon a barbed wire fence ahead. Emerging from the vehicle, father and son slip under the wire and into the disused field yonder, Jonathan leading with flashlight in hand.
JONATHAN: It's been eighteen years since your ma and me last came to this field. I've let it lay fallow ever since.
CLARK: This ... this is the field you told me never to play in, when I was a little kid.
JONATHAN: That's right. And I posted "NO TRESPASSING" signs all 'round, and put up the nastiest barbed wire fence I could find ...
Playing the flashlight beam across the ground, Jonathan reveals a large wood panel set flush into the earth.
JONATHAN: (cont'd) all to hide this. (beat) Lift it away, son.
Reaching under the heavy panel, Clark effortlessly uproots it. Setting the panel aside, he discovers the secret concealed beneath — the pit with the chrome-&-crystal starcraft nestled in its depths.
CLARK: (astonished) Oh my God. P-pa...? (faces Jonathan) What is it?
JONATHAN: This is how you came into our world, son — the day the grandfather of all blizzards slammed down on Smallville. (beat) It's where your ma and me found you.
CLARK: (flabbergasted) "Found me"‽ You mean ... I'm adopted‽
JONATHAN: Something like that. (beat) Yes, "adopted" is as good a word as any.
Clark takes a step back, overwhelmed.
CLARK: T-this is a joke, right?
JONATHAN: We should have told you earlier. Should have told you years ago.
CLARK: (irate) Why didn't you tell me?
JONATHAN: We wanted to protect you.
CLARK: (angry) Protect me from what‽ You should have told me!
His world turned upside down, Clark doesn't know what to do, so he does the only thing he can think to do; he leaves.
JONATHAN: Clark! Clark!
But his son is already long gone.
EXT. LANG HOME/BACKYARD — NIGHT
Having gathered pebbles, Clark chucks them at Lana's window, hoping to draw her attention. After several attempts, Lana fails to show.
EXT. LANG HOME/FRONT YARD — NIGHT
Coming around to the front door, Clark knocks. Lana's mother eventually answers.
SARAH LANG: (bemused) Clark‽
CLARK: May I see Lana?
SARAH LANG: Have you any idea what the time is‽ (looks to watch; isn't wearing one)
CLARK: Please, Mrs. Lang. It's important I see her.
SARAH LANG: (shakes head) Lana isn't here. She's sleeping over at Chloe's. (beat) Sakes alive, Clark. Visit during godly hours!
At that, Mrs. Lang closes the door in Clark's face. Crestfallen, Clark turns away. As he leaves the Lang property, he looks to the sky. The thick cloud cover which had blotted out the moon has broken, allowing strong moonlight to filter through the tears. Following the rays to Earth, Clark spies in the distance the house of Helen Potter.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — NIGHT
The windows in Helen's bedroom have been opened wide, allowing bright moonlight inside. It cascades over the bed, over the woman whose curves are only tenuously hidden beneath a thin sheet. A cool breeze seeps in through the windows, rustling the parted curtains and Helen's sheet. Hearing the sound or feeling the sensation, Helen is drawn from her slumber. Turning over, looking up, she finds Clark standing there at the foot of her bed, ghostly in the moonlight.
Sitting up, Helen pushes the sheet away, exposing the full length of her supple porcelain body, then crosses her arms above her head to afford Clark a strong look at her ample bosom. Leaving the foot of the bed, Clark sits down on the mattress with her. He then examines her, head-to-foot then foot-to-head, with his eyes. Anxious, inexperienced, he doesn't know how to proceed. Reaching for him, Helen removes his suspenders. Once they are out of the way, she unbuttons his flannel shirt. Pushing it open, she exposes the wiry muscle of his hairless chest and abs. Cupping his pecs, she feels the taut sinews in her palms and under her fingers — experiences them. Then snaking her fingers through his hair, she guides his lips to the nape of her neck.
EXT. KENT FARM — KENT HOME/FRONT PORCH — DAWN
Jonathan and Martha sit in the porch swing. Jonathan holds Martha, who fell asleep some time ago.
JONATHAN: Martha….
Hearing her name, Martha is roused from sleep.
MARTHA: (inquisitive) Clark?
Following Jonathan's gaze, Martha finds Clark coming down the driveway, on his way towards them.
As Clark climbs the porch steps, Martha and Jonathan rise from the swing. Clark stands there, facing his surrogate parents.
MARTHA: Clark, honey ... don't hate us for keeping this secret from you all these years.
CLARK: I don't hate you, Ma. I could never think badly of you or Pa.
Opening his arms, Clark goes to them. Opening their arms, Martha and Jonathan go to him. They embrace, holding to each other fast, family to the very end.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — MORNING
Clark, Jonathan, and Martha sit at the dining room table. In his two hands, Clark holds the S-pendant.
JONATHAN: We think it's from your parents — your real parents.
Clark runs a thumb over the engraved, glowing sigil.
JONATHAN: (cont'd) I tried for years to trace its origins, but it's not any symbol known to Man.
CLARK: What are you trying to tell me, Pa? That I'm a Martian?
JONATHAN: I don't know, Clark. Maybe we just weren't meant to know. Maybe we'll never know.
Opening the clasp, Clark fastens the pendant around his neck.
INT. KENT HOME/CLARK'S BEDROOM — DAY
Clark sits behind his desk. Pencil in hand, he writes on a notepad.
CLARK: (V.O.) The pendant drew me to itself; it's now drawing me elsewhere. I don't know where I'm being drawn or to what purpose; I only know it's a call I must answer. (beat) I can't say when I'll be back, but I will be back. That's a promise.
INT. KENT HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Keys to the Model T in hand, Clark walks out the door.
INT. TRUCK/CAB — DAY
Behind the wheel, Clark pulls away from the house.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — DAY
Mug of coffee in hand, Martha enters. As she approaches the table, she spies Clark's notepad atop it. Setting her cup down, she picks up the pad, reading Clark's note.
Frenetic, Martha bolts from the room to find Jonathan.
EXT. KANSAS TO COLORADO — MONTAGE
Clark makes the trip from Smallville, Kansas to the Elk Mountains, Colorado — by highway and backroad — guided by the silent siren song which beckons him.
EXT. FOREST — LAKE — NIGHT
Clark now continues on foot, hiking through the dark woods. He soon arrives at the lakeshore. Stripping down to his underwear, he dives headlong into the dark waters.
EXT. LAKEBED — STARCRAFT — NIGHT
Clark appears perfectly comfortable in this aquatic environ; he cuts through the water effortlessly — without kicking his legs or stroking his arms, as if he were gliding through the deep — and the lack of air doesn't appear to hamper him any. As he draws near the starcraft, this changes; his limbs go awkward and his lungs start screaming for oxygen.
Adjusting to the current, fighting to keep from inhaling water, Clark kicks his legs hard, stroking briskly, until he finds himself positioned over the sealed canopy. Finding no wheel or similar apparatus to open the canopy, he begins punching it; though he doesn't leave so much as a dent in the crystal, the force of the punches are cause enough to open the canopy.
Black water flooding the cockpit, Clark finds himself face-to-faceplate with the sole occupant. Taking Luma by the armpits, he tries lifting her free; much of his great strength absent, he finds the girl's spacesuited bulk quite heavy. Gritting his teeth, he pulls with all the might he has remaining. Finally managing to dislodge the leaden girl from her submerged vessel, sinking to the mud, he crouches down then launches himself towards the surface, Luma held close to him.
EXT. LAKE — NIGHT
Clark breaks the surface. Gasping, he begins swimming for shore.
EXT. FOREST — LAKE — NIGHT
Clark comes up on shore, soaking wet, Luma's limp form dead weight in his arms. Depositing her on the grass, he collapses to his knees, breathing heavily. He looks at his hands; they are bruised.
Turning to the person in the spacesuit, he unseals and removes her chrome helmet, tossing it aside. Eyes closed, expression placid, the face of the most beautiful woman Clark has ever laid eyes on is unveiled.
EXT. TRUCK — NIGHT
Clark deposits Luma's dismantled chrome spacesuit in the back of the truck then secures a canvas tarpaulin over the pieces, hiding them from sight.
INT. TRUCK/CAB — NIGHT
Clark gets behind the wheel. Starting the ignition, he turns to his passenger. Now wearing Clark's red flannel coat over her skintight bodysuit, she is finally coming to. Eyes cracking open, Luma faces him, still weak.
LUMA: (in Kryptonian, subtitled) You — you are...?
He peers back into Luma's eyes, the same azure as his own. He struggles to find the words.
CLARK: (in Kryptonian, subtitled) A friend.
Swooning, Luma slips back into unconsciousness.
INT. KENT HOME/LIVING ROOM — DAY
The Kents sit by their radio. The radio is on but they aren't listening. Worry for their son is etched on their faces.
There are loud knocks at the door.
MARTHA: Clark!
They bolt from their chairs.
INT. KENT HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Answering the door, they find Clark and Luma on the other side. Luma, semi-conscious on her feet, is braced against Clark's body, her arm slung across his back.
INT. KENT HOME/GUEST BEDROOM — DAY
Lying in bed, her bodysuit removed, Luma has regained full consciousness. Martha ministers to the blonde, cleaning her face and shoulders with a warm, wet washcloth.
LUMA: (weak) Ta-khukp nim….
MARTHA: I imagine you have a hundred questions on your mind. We certainly have that many. (sighs) I reckon the answers'll remain long in coming for us all.
Finished with the washcloth, Martha takes up a towel and gently pats the girl dry. Once that is done, she collects the black bodysuit and goes to leave. Luma takes her wrist. Martha looks back to her. Luma gives her a nod and smile of thanks. Martha returns the smile, then is gone.
INT. KENT HOME/HALLWAY OUTSIDE GUEST BEDROOM — DAY
Clark and Jonathan are waiting outside when Martha emerges.
CLARK: Can I see her?
MARTHA: She needs rest.
CLARK: I just want to talk with her awhile.
MARTHA: Awhile.
Martha allows Clark into the room, then closes the door after him.
INT. KENT HOME/GUEST BEDROOM — DAY
Clark approaches Luma. She watches him as he takes a seat in the chair beside the bed.
CLARK: (in Kryptonian, subtitled) Ma says you'll be sitting pretty soon enough.
LUMA: (confused; subtitled) "Sitting pretty"...?
CLARK: (subtitled) In a favourable position.
She accepts this explanation silently.
CLARK: (subtitled) We haven't been formally introduced. Name's Clark. (beat) Yours?
LUMA: Luma. Luma-Lyn.
CLARK: (subtitled) What's the last thing you recall?
LUMA: (subtitled) That woman ... your mother?
Clark nods.
LUMA: (cont'd; subtitled) Stripping me naked.
CLARK: (subtitled) You have absolutely no memory of how you came here? Why you came? Where you came from?
A moment of thoughtful silence.
LUMA: (subtitled) My name's Luma-Lyn. That's all I remember….
INT. KENT HOME/GUEST BEDROOM — DAY
It is a new day. Luma stands nude before a full-length mirror, examining herself.
There are two knocks at the door.
MARTHA: (O.S.) It's Martha.
After some seconds, Martha opens the door. She finds the young woman standing there, not at all ashamed to be caught in the buff.
MARTHA: (eyes Luma's lean musculature) You certainly weren't raised in the Bible Belt. (beat) Let's get you decent.
Martha picks up the periwinkle dress she left in the chair by Luma's bed. She helps Luma slip the garment on over her head, then ties the sash snug around her waist. Luma touches the fabric, feeling the unfamiliar material, then looks at herself in the dress in the mirror.
LUMA: (faces Martha; grins) Gehd dhoia nahn!
MARTHA: (smiles) It is lovely on you.
INT. KENT HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Clark is about to start up the stairs, Luma's breakfast in hand, when he sees Martha and the girl climbing down. Upon sighting the statuesque blonde in her elegant dress, Clark's mouth falls agape.
MARTHA: (half-smiles) You'll catch flies.
The two women reach the bottom of the steps. Clark and Luma make eye contact.
CLARK: (distracted; frowns) Uh ... is she...?
MARTHA: Much improved.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — DAY
The Kents and Luma sit around the dining table. Knife and fork in hand, she looks upon the plate before her; two fried eggs, three strips of bacon, and a side of home fries look back at her. As her apprehension would suggest, she is unfamiliar with such cuisine.
Spearing an egg on her fork, she raises it to her eye; yellow yoke oozes from the pierced egg. Repulsed, Luma looks to her hosts. Seeing them partake of the food casually, their own eyes upon her, she stuffs the egg in her mouth whole. Biting through the rubbery white meat, she suppresses the urge to gag as yoke gushes across her tongue. Then the flavour hits her palate. Three seconds later, the remaining egg, bacon, and home fries are gone.
JONATHAN: (to Clark) You don't eat that fast.
Luma BURPS loudly. Martha scowls deeply. Luma blushes, embarrassed.
INT. KENT HOME/LUMA'S BEDROOM — DAY
A week has passed. Clark sits with Luma on her bed. With the aid of picture and storybooks, he is helping her learn English.
EXT. KENT FARM — KENT HOME/FRONT PORCH — DAY
Lana comes down the driveway on her bicycle. Pulling up to the front, she climbs off. Propping the bike up, shouldering a leather bag, she climbs the porch steps and knocks at the door. Jonathan answers.
JONATHAN: (smiles) Hello, Lana.
LANA: Hello, Mr. Kent. May I see Clark, or is he indisposed?
JONATHAN: Be right back with him.
Jonathan closes the door. Lana whistles while she waits.
INT. KENT HOME/LUMA'S BEDROOM — DAY
Jonathan peeks inside.
JONATHAN: Lana's here for you.
Clark rises from the bed.
CLARK: (to Luma; in Kryptonian) I won't be a moment.
EXT. KENT FARM — KENT HOME/FRONT PORCH — DAY
The door opens. Stepping out onto the porch, Clark closes the door after him.
CLARK: Lana, hi.
LANA: You've been out of school all week; Hel's been asking after you. Is everything alright?
CLARK: I've been down with the flu, but I'm feeling much better. I should be back in class Monday or Tuesday.
Touching Clark's face, Lana begins feeling around his ears and jaw.
CLARK: What're you doing?
LANA: Feeling for the edges of a mask.
CLARK: (brushes hand off; laughs) Cut it out.
LANA: (reaches into bag; pulls out paperwork) Here's your homework.
CLARK: (takes papers) Thanks. (beat) Tell your aunt I'll be in to see her tomorrow.
LANA: Will do. Hope to see you Monday.
CLARK: (smiles) Bye.
Returning his smile, Lana returns to her bike. She takes off, pedalling up the driveway as Clark heads back inside.
INT. KENT HOME/LUMA'S BEDROOM — DAY
Clark returns to find Shelby and Rusty in the room. Shelby sits at Luma's feet, wagging her fuzzy tail, while Rusty stands atop the bed, slurping Luma's face. Luma, taking the dog's slimy kisses in stride, returns his affectionate gesture with vigorous rubs and scratches along his neck and floppy ears.
CLARK: (bemused) Rusty, Shelby, out! Get out!
Obeying their master, the two dogs bolt from the room, scattering books in their wake. Sighing, Clark picks the books up from the floor at super speed.
LUMA: Who girl was at door?
CLARK: My friend Lana, from school.
LUMA: What "school" is?
Clark translates the word for her.
LUMA: (nods) Ah.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — DAY
It is the next day. Martha is busy washing dishes when Jonathan strides in. He spies a baking sheet of fresh cookies cooling on the countertop.
JONATHAN: Cookies, eh?
As Jonathan goes to take one, Martha flings suds in his face to ward him off.
MARTHA: I'll have you know I baked those cookies for Helen Potter. Clark will be taking them to her today.
JONATHAN: (disheartened) Ah. For Helen.
Crossing to the icebox, Jonathan fetches a pitcher of milk; lifting the spout to his mouth, he drinks directly from it.
MARTHA: (points at him) The source of all Clark's poor eating habits.
JONATHAN: (places milk back in icebox) How much more time is our son going to spend with that woman?
MARTHA: A couple more weeks. He can't very well rush the job, can he?
JONATHAN: (crosses arms over chest) I don't like the idea of him spending any length of time with her.
MARTHA: (frowns) Jonathan Kent, whyever not?
JONATHAN: Don't pretend you're in the dark. She was Mrs. Dean Winters up until she returned to this town.
MARTHA: Whatever her failings, it's no place of ours to judge.
JONATHAN: I don't like her, Martha. I don't like her and I most certainly don't trust her — not where our boy's concerned.
MARTHA: Our boy is a man, and a smart man at that. (beat) Believe Clark will make the right choices for himself if you can't believe Hel will.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Hearing a knock at the door, Helen answers it. She finds Clark on the other side; in his hands he holds a small wicker basket with Martha's homemade cookies inside. Clark's eyes wander over the front of Helen's black silk robe, which is barely tied closed.
HELEN: I told you you needn't knock.
CLARK: (shrugs) Sorry, ma'am. Old habits. (holds out cookies) Cookies. My mother baked them.
HELEN: (smiles) Martha. That dear girl.
Accepting the basket, she turns her back to Clark. Clark steps inside. She closes the door after him.
HELEN: My niece told me you were stricken with the flu?
CLARK: I'm much better now.
HELEN: Oh, I hope you are. (beat) Let's step inside the kitchen. I'm just perishing to sample your delectable cookies.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/KITCHEN — DAY
They enter the kitchen.
CLARK: I think I can finish the roof today. I could then start to work on the garage, if you'd like.
Reaching into the basket, Helen fishes out a cookie. Raising it to her teeth, she takes a bite.
HELEN: Mmm ... peanut butter.
CLARK: (smiles slightly) They're my personal favourite.
HELEN: (cocks eyebrow) Would you care to...?
CLARK: (shakes head) Ma baked them specially for you.
HELEN: What's good for the goose is good for the gander.
When he reaches for the basket, she hides it behind her.
HELEN: (wags finger) Ah-ah!
Helen holds out her cookie — the one with the bite taken from it. Tentative, Clark leans forward and takes his own bite. Helen grins, pleased.
HELEN: It's good.
CLARK: (chews & swallows) Quite good.
Helen takes a second bite from the cookie. She doesn't swallow it; she holds it in her teeth, entreating Clark to take it. Leaning forward, Clark places his mouth over hers. They share the morsel.
CLARK: I should start to work now.
Depositing the cookie basket atop the counter, Helen unties and opens her robe. Taking Clark's hand, she guides a finger into her mouth, moistening it.
HELEN: By all means….
INT. SMALLVILLE HIGH/CLASSROOM — DAY
The school bell rings, signalling the end of day's classes. Collecting his papers and books, Clark rises from his desk.
INT. SMALLVILLE HIGH/CORRIDOR — DAY
Students file out into the corridor from several different classrooms. Clark is soon joined by Pete and Lana.
PETE: The gang's all headed for the general store. Care to partake in a soda, Clark?
CLARK: I'll have to take a rain check. Hel's expecting me by.
LANA: (frowns) Clark….
CLARK: Her back door needs attention.
LANA: You've been spending all your free time at Hel's.
CLARK: (frowns) Have not.
LANA: Her place won't burn to the ground the day you decide to take the day off. C'mon, Clark.
CLARK: (shrugs) I'm free tomorrow.
PETE: (claps Clark on back) Tomorrow it is, fella. (to Lana) Let's ankle.
Pete starts on ahead. Lana dallies, staying with Clark a moment longer, unanswered questions lurking behind her hazel eyes. She then quickens her pace to catch up to the lanky blonde, leaving Clark behind.
INT. KENT HOME/LUMA'S BEDROOM — NIGHT
While most everyone else in the household sleeps, Luma remains wide awake. To pass the hours, she reads from the weightiest text the Kents keep around the house: the Bible. Reclining atop her bed, she holds the tome between thumb and forefinger, handling it as if it were no denser than the thinnest paperback.
Luma rises from bed. Absorbed in the text, she absentmindedly crosses the length of the room. Upon coming to the wall, she doesn't stop. Indeed, she continues up it, against the pull of gravity. Striding the length of the wall, she continues onto the ceiling, still reading. Reaching the centre, she stops. Standing on the ceiling, suspended upside down with her hair and clothes inexplicably still in place, she turns a page. Leaving the ceiling, flipping over in mid-air, she floats down as softly as a feather back to the mattress.
INT. KENT HOME/DINING ROOM — DAY
Clark has already departed for school, leaving Jonathan, Martha, and Luma at the table. As Clark's parents finish their coffee, Luma reads through a fashion magazine, taking particular interest in the models' hairstyles.
LUMA: (touches hair) How would you outline my hair?
MARTHA: Outline?
LUMA: Describe.
MARTHA: (envious) Lush ... baby blond….
LUMA: You do not surmise it without poise?
MARTHA: (half-smiles) Two out of three ain't bad.
LUMA: (shows magazine to Martha) Notwithstanding, this hairstyle would not be phenomenal on me?
MARTHA: You want a makeover.
LUMA: (hopeful) It is viable?
MARTHA: You could do worse than a qualified hairdresser ... (looks to Jonathan)
Jonathan shakes his head.
MARTHA: (cont'd) but I'm no fledgling with the scissors. I could see what I can do.
LUMA: Splendiferous, Martha. Thank you. (beat) Jonathan?
MARTHA: Hmm?
LUMA: Your family has alotted me bountifully this month. I would assist in your errands, if you would give license.
JONATHAN: (shrugs) Sure thing.
INT. BARN/STORAGE AREA — DAY
Jonathan and Luma enter. Crossing to a chopping block, Jonathan pulls loose an axe.
JONATHAN: (points to firewood pile) Fetch a piece, Luma, would you?
Crossing to the pile of unchopped firewood, Luma takes up a round and carries it over.
JONATHAN: (cont'd) On the block.
She sets the round down on its side. It rolls off the block.
JONATHAN: (chuckles) Upright.
She sets the round, upright, on the chopping block.
JONATHAN: Stand back.
Luma steps away. Bringing the axe down, Jonathan cleaves the round in twain.
JONATHAN: And that's how it's done. (beat) Another.
They continue the process, Luma gathering wood, Jonathan chopping it.
LUMA: "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also. Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again. And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise. For if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye? for sinners also love those that love them. And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful. Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven: give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again."
JONATHAN: Luke 6:27-38.
LUMA: (cont'd) "And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, 'Avenge the children of Israel of the Midianites: afterward shalt thou be gathered unto thy people.' And Moses spake unto the people, saying, 'Arm some of yourselves unto the war, and let them go against the Midianites, and avenge the Lord of Midian. Of every tribe a thousand, throughout all the tribes of Israel, shall ye send to the war.' So there were delivered out of the thousands of Israel, a thousand of every tribe, twelve thousand armed for war. And Moses sent them to the war, a thousand of every tribe, them and Phinehas the son of Eleazar the priest, to the war, with the holy instruments, and the trumpets to blow in his hand. And they warred against the Midianites, as the Lord commanded Moses; and they slew all the males. And they slew the kings of Midian, beside the rest of them that were slain; namely, Evi, and Rekem, and Zur, and Hur, and Reba, five kings of Midian: Balaam also the son of Beor they slew with the sword. And the children of Israel took all the women of Midian captives, and their little ones, and took the spoil of all their cattle, and all their flocks, and all their goods. And they burnt all their cities wherein they dwelt, and all their goodly castles, with fire. And they took all the spoil, and all the prey, both of men and of beasts. And they brought the captives, and the prey, and the spoil, unto Moses, and Eleazar the priest, and unto the congregation of the children of Israel, unto the camp at the plains of Moab, which are by Jordan near Jericho. And Moses, and Eleazar the priest, and all the princes of the congregation, went forth to meet them without the camp. And Moses was wroth with the officers of the host, with the captains over thousands, and captains over hundreds, which came from the battle. And Moses said unto them, 'Have ye saved all the women alive? Behold, these caused the children of Israel, through the counsel of Balaam, to commit trespass against the Lord in the matter of Peor, and there was a plague among the congregation of the Lord. Now therefore kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman that hath known man by lying with him. But all the women children, that have not known a man by lying with him, keep alive for yourselves.'"
JONATHAN: Numbers 31:1-18.
LUMA: The Bible impels much ... ambivalence.
JONATHAN: It does at that.
LUMA: You are a votary of the Hebrew god?
JONATHAN: I don't put too much stake in being a churchgoing sort, but I believe in Jesus.
LUMA: How do you harmonize the charity of Christ Jesus with the vehemence of his god?
JONATHAN: When the Lord commands Israel to do the Midianites wrong, that's the Devil in disguise. When Jesus commands his disciples to turn the other cheek, that's the true God breaking through the Devil's lies. But I'm sure Pastor Nilquist would say different. (beat) How about you give it a try?
Setting down the axe, Jonathan switches places with Luma. Retrieving a round of wood, he places it on the chopping block.
JONATHAN: You don't need the axe. (nods) Go ahead.
Clenching her fist, she brings it down on the round. Instead of splitting in two neat halves, it bursts into kindling.
JONATHAN: (smirks) Splendiferous.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — DAY
Luma sits in a chair, a towel draped around her shoulders and over her chest, looking through the same fashion magazine from before. Martha stands behind her, scissors in hand.
MARTHA: Ready?
LUMA: I am.
Taking a lock of Luma's blond hair in hand, she takes her scissors to it. The blades snap clean off.
MARTHA: Heavens!
LUMA: (frowns) Something the matter?
MARTHA: (irate) I asked if you were ready.
LUMA: (frowns) I am.
MARTHA: (holds out broken scissors) These speak otherwise.
LUMA: (confused) I do not apprehend.
MARTHA: You don't know how to dial back your invulnerability?
LUMA: Dial back my invulnerability?
MARTHA: Clark can make it so scissors won't break against his hair.
LUMA: Has Clark delineated the process?
MARTHA: "Pulling it into himself".
LUMA: I will try….
Closing her eyes, Luma concentrates.
LUMA: Attempt again.
Retrieving a new pair of scissors, Martha takes a lock of Luma's blond hair in hand and cautiously takes her scissors to it. The blades shear through the strands effortlessly.
EXT. SMALLVILLE — GAS STATION — DAY
Kenny is seated on a bench out front, reading a paperback, when a car pulls up to the pumps. Setting down his book, Kenny rises and goes to his customer.
DRIVER: 16¢ of gas. And give my windshield a cleaning, if you please.
KENNY: Not a problem, sir.
Cleaning the man's windshield, Kenny then fills the tank. Once that's done, the driver pays Kenny.
KENNY: Have yourself a fine day, sir.
Replying with a nod, the man pulls out and away.
Lana, on her bicycle, is riding along the side of the road. Nearing the gas station, she gives Kenny a wave. Taking off his cap, he waves back, smiling.
EXT. HELEN'S HOME/FRONT YARD — DAY
Lana parks her bicycle at the front step. Taking a leather portfolio up from the bike basket, she goes to the door and knocks.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY
Clark and Helen are together under the sheets. Lying flat on her back, Helen stares deep into Clark's eyes. He freezes in mid-thrust.
HELEN: Why'd you stop?
CLARK: There's someone at the door.
HELEN: (laughs) You can't hear the door from here.
CLARK: I heard it.
HELEN: (sighs) They'll go away.
Conceding her argument, Clark resumes his stride.
EXT. HELEN'S HOME/FRONT YARD
Lana knocks again. When Helen fails to answer the door a second time, Lana tries the knob. Finding the door unlocked, she slips inside.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
LANA: Aunt Helen? Lana. (beat) I have those papers for you….
Lana creeps deeper into the house.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY
The lovers moan.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDROOM — DAY
From here, Lana can hear the lovemaking occurring in the bedroom. Curious, aroused, she silently creeps down the hall to the bedroom door, which is a crack open.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY
Deep in the throes of passion, neither Helen nor Clark notice the crack in the door widen.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDROOM — DAY
Discretely peering through the gap, the wry smile on Lana's lips dies as she spies who is with her aunt.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY
Arms and legs wrapped around Clark, Helen climaxes.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDROOM — DAY
Lana steps back, dropping the portfolio to the floor. The door then swings open of its own accord, leaving the two parties in full view of each other.
CLARK: (surprised) Lana!
Shocked, embarrassed, Lana dashes off.
CLARK: Wait! Lana!
Pulling away from Helen, Clark retrieves his pants and struggles into them.
EXT. HELEN'S HOME/FRONT YARD — DAY
Hopping on her bicycle, Lana kicks off, pedalling furiously to put distance between her and the cottage. Clark bursts through the front door.
CLARK: Lana!
Not stopping, not circling back, Lana angrily wipes unbidden tears from her eyes.
EXT. KENT FARM — CORN FIELD — DAY
To the back of the tractor has been hitched a reaper-binder. As Martha guides the tractor through the rows, the corn stalks are collected into the binder, automatically tied into bundles, then deposited out the back on the grass.
CUT TO
Some hours later.
Clad in purple flannel shirt and blue overalls, Luma goes about collecting the corn bundles from the ground, using her super strength to handle multiple bundles in both arms at once, using her super speed to stack them into shooks in a fraction of the time it would take a team of humans to complete the task.
As Luma finishes arranging the last shook, she hears a plaintive cry. Following the sound, she looks up to find a red-tailed hawk gliding through the sky, its wings spread wide. She scrutinizes the raptor. A sense of familiarity falls over her.
INT. BARN/LOFT — DAY
Clark stands by the open loft door, looking out across the property, pensive. Hearing the creak of wood behind him, he looks over his shoulder to find Lana climbing the ladder. Reaching the top, she rises, facing Clark, face dark.
CLARK: (uncomfortable) Hi.
Lana approaches him.
LANA: How long?
CLARK: Lana —
LANA: I know what I saw, Clark. Just tell me ... how long?
CLARK: Coming up on a month now.
LANA: (nods) She is a handsome woman.
Something catching her attention, Lana glances over Clark's shoulder. Outside, Luma stands facing the barn. The bob-wearing Kryptonian looks up at them, studying them.
LANA: (frowns) Who's that?
Clark looks outside.
CLARK: (thinking) My cousin.
LANA: You've never mentioned her before. (beat) Where's she from?
CLARK: Far away. Quebec.
At Clark's touch, they leave the open door. Deeper into the loft's shadows, Clark gently takes Lana by the shoulders, gazing into her eyes imploringly.
CLARK: Don't tell anyone.
Lana studies Clark's eyes. Closing her own, she leans forward and plants a tender kiss on his cheek. Stepping away without a word, she returns to the ladder.
Clark touches his cheek, feeling the lingering warmth of her kiss.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY
Another bout of lovemaking between Clark and Helen comes to a close.
CUT TO
A minute later.
Helen and Clark lay together, sheets bunched up between them. Instead of cuddling, making pillow talk, they watch the ceiling — Helen with disinterest, Clark with dissatisfaction — a silent, palpable distance between them.
Sitting up, Helen reaches over Clark for the nightstand on his side of the bed, taking up a cigarette case and lighter resting atop a movie magazine. As she fishes a cigarette from the case, Clark picks up the magazine; an image of Greta Garbo emblazons the front cover.
CLARK: Greta Garbo. (flips through magazine) Is she a good actress?
Lighting up her cigarette, Helen shrugs.
CLARK: I don't know any of the actors. I've never been to the movies. I've never been out of Smallville to see one. (beat) My whole life.
HELEN: Poor dear. (solemn) I know that feeling well.
The two make eye contact, on the cusp of an emotional connection.
CLARK: Do you remember your first? Which was it?
Helen takes a moment to think it over.
HELEN: Frankenstein, in 1910. (takes drag) Yes, it was Frankenstein.
CLARK: What was it like?
HELEN: You've read the book.
CLARK: Certainly.
HELEN: There's your answer.
The distance returns.
Helen offers Clark her cigarette. Accepting it, Clark takes a dispassionate puff. Tobacco does nothing for him.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY
Helen opens the front door for Clark.
HELEN: You'll be in tomorrow, of course.
CLARK: It'll be a long day for me. I don't believe I'll make it in.
HELEN: Then the day after.
CLARK: The family's entertaining a guest — my cousin Luma, visiting down from Canada. I'm sorry.
Clark enters the threshold.
HELEN: (raises hand) Just a moment!
Stopping in the door, Clark waits for Helen as she leaves for another room. In a minute she returns, a fresh-baked pie in hand.
HELEN: (offers pie to Clark) Pecan.
CLARK: Thank you.
Helen starts to smile.
CLARK: (cont'd) Ma has allergies, but I appreciate the gesture.
The nascent smile dies.
CLARK: (forlorn) Take good care of yourself, Hel.
Clark steps through the door, closing it after him. Helen is left standing in the entrance hall, alone with her pie.
INT. LANG HOME/LANA'S BEDROOM — DAY
In her undergarments, singing softly to herself, Lana goes through her closet. She finds two items: a red blouse and a beige sweater. Looking them over, she chooses the sweater. Setting the sweater down beside a brown skirt atop her bed, she crosses over to her dresser. Gazing into the dresser mirror, she checks her hair. As she tucks an errant lock behind her ear, she sees in the reflection a face outside her bedroom window.
LANA: (gasps) Jumpin' Jesus!
Spinning 'round, she finds it is Clark gazing in on her. She strides to the window; flinging it open, she leans out; Clark clutches the window frame, feet braced tightly against the wall, suspended two storeys above the ground, nothing on or against the wall he could've used to scale it.
LANA: How'd you ever manage‽
Taking a step back, Lana allows Clark to climb inside. She places her fists on her hips, none too pleased with Clark.
LANA: You're a voyeur, too, now?
CLARK: Sorry. (averts gaze)
LANA: Suppose I can't fault you. Must be desensitized to the sight of bubs by now.
Moving to her bed, Lana takes up her sweater.
LANA: Let's not futz around. (slips sweater on) What's on your mind?
CLARK: It's over.
Lana takes up her skirt, eyes intent on Clark.
CLARK: (beat) Between your aunt and me.
LANA: (slips skirt on) Face stretcher wore thin?
CLARK: (turns to window) I should go.
LANA: (buttons skirt) Clark — no.
Taking him by the wrist, she sits him down beside her on the bed, ready to hear what he has to say.
CLARK: It was sex. Just sex. Nothing else. (beat) I tried to love her. I tried. But she wouldn't let me in. (beat) Lana, is it me? Is there something wrong with me?
LANA: Clark ... you're a sap. A real sap. But my God ... your heart is big. You, you shine — a sun on Earth. (beat) I pity Hel, if she can't see you ... (touches his lips) ... appreciate you….
There is a loud rap at the door, startling them both.
SARAH LANG: (O.S.) Lana, are you decent?
LANA: (faces door; irate) Mother!
SARAH LANG: (O.S.) Peter's just arrived.
LANA: (to herself) Oh, Pete! (to Mrs. Lang) I'll be right down!
Rising, Lana retrieves her shoes.
CLARK: Having a night on the town with Pete?
Slipping into her shoes, Lana nods.
CLARK: Since when have you and Pete ...?
LANA: Clark, we've been going steady two weeks. (beat) You didn't realize?
CLARK: No. (bewildered) I've missed out on a lot.
LANA: (sighs) That you have.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
Seated in a spacious armchair, Helen reaches for the candlestick telephone on the stand beside her. Lifting the receiver from the switch hook, she dials a number.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
After long seconds of ringing, Jonathan enters the kitchen and strides up to the wood-panelled wall telephone.
JONATHAN: (answers phone) Jonathan here.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: (smiles) Dearest Jonathan.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
JONATHAN: (frowns) Who's this?
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: (wry) I'm surprised at you. Granted, it's been a spell. But so long as to forget the voice of your oldest, closest friend?
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
JONATHAN: (stern) Helen.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: You remember!
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
JONATHAN: If you're calling after Clark, he isn't available.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: Oh, you'll do. Quite nicely.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
JONATHAN: How may I help you today, Hel?
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: Clark and I've spent quite the amount of time together. So much time, I wake some mornings thinking I'm Mrs. Helen Kent. (chuckles) Thanksgiving's fast approaching. I'll be hosting a dinner. I've invited my sister and her family. While I know Clark isn't family, it simply wouldn't do to exclude him and his from the festivities.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
JONATHAN: I don't think so, Helen.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: (sighs) I suppose I can call back later; perhaps Martha'll be available to pick up the line. Or perhaps I'll drive out to your quaint, picturesque property and pay your wife a personal visit. (beat) We have much to discuss, she and I, and I can be quite the chatterbox. (malicious) Quite the chatterbox.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
Jonathan doesn't speak a word.
INT. HELEN'S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET
HELEN: And don't forget to include your niece. Clark has told me all about her; I'm simply perishing to meet the perfect dear.
INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET
The line goes dead.
FADE OUT
END CREDITS
