Chapter 2 [A Couple of Hours Later—Kent Farm]
Even as the sun began its descent toward the western horizon and a few more cool breezes sent the denizens for thicker coats, Clark finished a section of fencing along the back forty. He'd spent the majority of the afternoon inserting oak posts with a super strength push into the chilled earth before setting slats in between the vertical supports. He reached for the thermos of ginger water that Martha had provided and gulped thirstily from its contents.
The liquid slid down his parched throat irrigating the arid terrain therein.
He nodded at the sight of a job well done. "That'll keep the cattle in bounds this year. Wonder what else needs doing?" As he leaned up against the last post, his eyes wandered over toward the solitary stone wall between his parents' farm and the empty one next door….
….the one where Lana had been born and lived with her parents….
…that is before the meteor shower brought both him and a rain of destruction to Earth….
He sighed. He had wanted to talk with Lana but ever since Christmas, there hadn't been time. Ever since the others had worked on their ancestry projects, he'd wanted to touch base with her…just to let her know that he was there if she needed the support.
Leave it to farm work, Chloe's missions for the Torch and the Talon to get in the way of that idea.
That…and talking with Dr. Swann too….
What good is it to have all of these gifts if I can't be happy? If I can't share them with Lana? He shook his head in consternation. Why can't I tell her? He could hear Jonathan's fearful words from almost a year earlier echoing in his ears….
…echoing that The Secret needed to be kept above all else…and at any cost…even if it meant breaking his heart in the process….
He collected his tools morosely and set them in the small leather sack by his right boot. Then he ran at super speed toward the barn across the property. Within seconds, his feet clopped across the concrete underfoot. He set the bag on its hook by his father's workbench. He noticed Jonathan working on the old tractor. "What's going on with it now, Dad?"
"Old Matilda's needing a couple of adjustments, Clark. No big deal," Jonathan answered patiently while executing a few well-timed turns of his 3 ¼ inch wrench. "How's that fence looking?"
"Just finished the last section. I made sure every section's secure. Hopefully this year the cows won't run around like they did last year," Clark reported.
"That's what happens when I trust some outside guy to a task." The farmer patted his son on the shoulder. "You do first rate work, Son. I know that. I'll take a look at it but I know it's already great." He smiled at the younger man. "You all right, Clark?"
"Just the usual stuff. School, here, life," Clark replied heavily.
Jonathan looked Clark in the eye. He recalled enough of the struggles he had as a teenager on that farm, with his own father and with life itself….
….and that was without his son's abilities or the Secret for that matter….
"It's all right, Clark. You're doing the right things. Just hang in there, Son," Jonathan advised.
"I know. That's all I can do. I just need more. You know? Mr. Reynolds keeps riding me about my extra curriculars talking about me getting into a good college. What do I tell him? Oh I can't because I need to be on the farm? Because I can't accidentally send a tractor flying across Lowell County? I can't date or do anything because I'm an alien. I don't know who I really am other than Kal-El!" Clark retorted albeit more sharply than he meant to.
"You're Clark Kent not that. Son, wherever you came from is gone. I know what Dr. Swann told you reveals something of Krypton but…."
Clark shrugged. He opened his father's toolbox and produced the octagonal disk. He held it up allowing the fading day's light to catch on its edges. "I'm of both worlds, Dad. You can't deny that. I can't either. I just wish I be a normal kid. I'm not. Hey I'm the guy who can see through walls and toss tractors like cotton balls! And when I run into a red rock, look out even more!" He went silent for a second allowing himself to compose his mood once more before continuing. "Sorry. I'm not yelling at you. I just wish we knew more."
"I know. We'll find those answers, Clark. Together and carefully. I hate the Secrets too. We don't have a choice. You can talk to Pete at least," Jonathan accepted. Granted Clark's talk about being more Kryptonian galled him on some subliminal level. He wondered why just being an Earther wasn't enough for his son….
…perhaps out of fear of losing him to that world? Or perhaps Lana or another girl would prove a Lorelei to his son's ship on Life's journey? One could never tell….
"I wish I could talk to Lana or Chloe, Dad. I know I can't. I just wish I could. Sorry." Clark set the key back in the toolbox and shut it. "I'm going to see if Mom needs something."
"Thanks, Son. I'm sure your Mom will appreciate the hand. I'll be there in a bit for dinner," Jonathan expressed. As he watched Clark head for the house, he shook his head again. Why can't it ever be enough? I know he's from that planet but we raised him here. I wish he could understand! With that, he went back to work on the tractor and lose himself in the activity at hand…..
[Ten Minutes Earlier]
Even as the guys worked outside, Martha peered at the browning roast through the oven door's window. A gentle nod signaled her approval over its progress. She returned to work on the boiling potatoes and corn pots on the stove. She gave each a couple of stirs with her wooden spoon and smiled.
Given the mood in the house since Clark's return from New York, she wanted to have an extra special meal to brighten the place up. She knew that her son had tried to keep his chin up and did more than his share of the chores around the place. Still the year had been a hard one for them all. Kyla and Whitney's deaths had left their lingering marks. Lionel's ever-present pressing on the edges for clues about the Secret wore at them all. Byron's situation offered a thought-provoking counterpoint on being different and be raised as such in the community around themselves….
…and that was before Swann's revelations about Krypton and Clark's origins….
I wish we could go back to the way it was. We can't! She took the potatoes off of the stove and drained them in a colander. She shook the bowl to drain off the rest of the water before dumping the potatoes into a bowl resting on the counter. Jonathan needs to realize that Clark is justified in learning more about his Kryptonian heritage. I just wish it was easier. She mixed some milk and butter into the potatoes. After shutting the heat under the corn, she began smashing the potatoes down into their smooth mix. For several minutes, she continued on that task.
Just as she finished mashing the potatoes, the phone rang intruding upon her thoughts. Kind of late for someone to be calling especially on a Sunday! She answered, "Good afternoon Kent Farm."
"Hi, Mrs. Kent! This is Lana Lang. Sorry if I'm interrupting your dinner preparations." Lana took a deep breath.
"I'm about halfway done, Lana, but it's okay." Martha considered asking the younger woman to call back later that evening. However she heard something in the other's voice—a hesitancy and nervousness. "Are you all right? I'm sorry but Clark's out working in the fields with his father."
"Mr. Reynolds showed up at the Talon and handed me a project. He also asked me to get Clark involved. Before I draw up any plans, I was hoping to talk to Clark, you and Mr. Kent to get your input and permission? I didn't want to go behind your backs. I can get something and be over after dinner," Lana explained.
"Nonsense! We have plenty. Consider yourself invited for supper, Lana," Martha invited cheerfully. "I won't have you eating fast food when there's good roast and fixings here. Maybe though you might pick up some dinner rolls on the way?"
"I can do that and dessert if that's all right, Mrs. Kent. Thank you so much. What time should I be there?" Lana agreed.
"Make it in about half an hour. And speaking for Mr. Kent and myself, we appreciate your being honest with us," Martha expressed.
"My pleasure, Mrs. Kent. Talk to you soon," Lana concluded before hanging up.
Martha hung the phone up and folded her arms across her chest. Her brow furrowed with concern. Now *what* could Principal Reynolds want for those kids? Wasn't it enough that he made Clark write that essay? She shook her head. At least Lana's letting us know. She headed back across the room toward the stove. There she grabbed a bowl and poured the corn from the pan into it.
"Hi, Mom!" Clark greeted as he came in the door and started removing his boots. Even if he was depressed, he decided not to expose her to it. "Fence is done."
"That's nice, Clark. I'm sure your Dad appreciates it," she complimented. Still she could almost feel the moods lurking beneath the surface. "Something's bothering you, isn't it? You're still thinking about the assignment and Dr. Swann aren't you?"
"Yeah I am. Sorry, Mom. I just wish Dad would understand. I don't love you both any less. I just want to explore everything about myself. It's not that I'm going to suddenly leave Smallville or anything," Clark admitted sadly.
"Clark, it's going to be okay. We know how much you want to tell your friends your secret especially Lana. Give your Dad time. At some point, it will be okay. Meantime, speaking of Lana, why don't you take a shower and get ready for dinner? She'll be eating with us," Martha assured him pleasantly enough.
"She…is?" The thought of his brunette inspiration joining them at the table broke through Depression's clouds. He grinned before super speeding up the stairs.
Martha chuckled and shrugged. "If that's all it took to get Clark in a better mood, I might have her over more often." She smiled and started setting the table for the meal ahead.
Now if this project wouldn't be too intrusive, it would be fine…or so Martha hoped….