"Traveler" Chapter 3: Answers
"What was it?" Clark asks curiously...but worried about what he might say.
"You know I've always said Smallville had potential, always, not any of my colleagues thought the same. My father gave me Smallville to stretch my legs and show him just exactly what his son can do. As you can see...I've stretched my legs quite a bit, don't you think?" Lex says.
"Lex...no. This isn't right, you've got to stop this...this town, it's a part of everyone...you can't..." Clark says but is interrupted by Lex.
"Part of everyone? If this town was so important to everyone they wouldn't of wished for different lives. You've seen it, Clark...all those mansions and rich people, that's what they voted for. I've realized that you can take any man and offer him a better life and they'll accept, even if it means radically changing it." Lex says.
"Not me...no, not me Lex. So what? You wished to turn Smallville into a junior metropolis?" Clark asks.
"Haha...no, but that kind of came with it. My wish was for my father to know exactly what I am capable of...now I own this city, and LuthorCorp. Soon I'll have the world, Clark...I'll have everything." Lex says.
"What are you saying, Lex? This is insane!" Clark yells.
"Everyone woke up today different, Clark, everyone." Lex says.
"I didn't, I'm going to stop this." Clark says, starting to walk away.
"Oh and by the way...in my new position I've realized that the right information can come quite easily if you want it. You're hiding something, Clark Kent...but don't think you can for long." Lex says with a smile. Clark keeps going without saying anything else; soon he is out of the Luthor Ancestral Home and heading somewhere far away where he can clear his head.
The next morning, nothing changed; Clark prayed for it to be at least a little like the Smallville he remembered just two days earlier when he woke up, but it was not. Jonathan, Martha and him sit at the breakfast table. Clark has a bowl of Corn Flakes in front of him, but he's not eating them. Clark remembered reading an article from a woman who had just recovered from a coma she was in for over five years. She said it was like a dream that you just couldn't wake up from, maybe that's what this is, Clark thought. The Kent farm didn't look different on first glance, but Clark had learned of the brand new farm equipment and all the debt vanishing. He would have never thought they, his parents, would take the easy way out. "Something wrong, Clark?" Martha Kent asks, looking across the table at him.
"Everything." Clark says under his breath.
"What?" Martha asks.
"(Sigh) Nothing, Mom, everything is great." Clark says, realizing now that this is definitely not a terrible joke his parents played on him.
"So, son...another day of no school. What are you thinking about doing?" Jonathan says, reading the paper.
"I'm...not sure, dad...I think I need some fresh air, maybe I'll take a walk." Clark says, getting up and grabbing his jacket.
"...Alright, have a...nice walk then, Clark." Martha says, curious of her son's unusual attitude.
"A walk?" Jonathan says, somewhat confused. Martha shrugs her shoulders and takes Clark's cereal bowl to the sink.
Clark walks again; early in the morning with his hands in his pockets, down another drastically changed street. He passes a bank and then turns down and alley. He stops and leans his back upon the wall. His eyes remain in one spot, focused, like he is in deep thought. Then, at the end of the alley, a black van with tinted windows pulls up. The side door slides open and three, large men dressed in black step out. Clark's not sure who they are, but he doesn't have a good feeling about them as they walk towards him, slowly. "We're looking for a guy named Kent, Clark Kent...you wouldn't happen to know where we could find him now could you?" One of the thugs asks.
"Looks like you found him, I'm Clark Kent." Clark says moving away from the wall and standing tall only a few feet from them. The men stare at him for a few moments, and then one reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black bat, another has a chain and the last has a switchblade. Clark tries not to smile, he's not scared or anything like that, he just wants a different feeling, something other than confusion or anger...some excitement. "Now what are you guys planning on doing with those?" Clark asks, carefree.
"We were thinking of rearranging that pretty face of yours, how's that sound?" The large man in the middle of the other two asks.
"I think you better turn around, because you don't stand a chance." Clark says, provoking them. In an instant, the man with the black bat lunges towards Clark and swings at him, but Clark easily avoids it. Clark begins to laugh as the man swings, not able to hit him. Clark darts around the large man, leaving him perplexed. The man takes begins to take another swing, he raises it high...Clark speeds behind him and grabs it. "Pretty far from the baseball field, buddy." Clark says as he snaps it in two with ease. The man starts to back off, but then runs at Clark in a rampage. Clark grabs him, lifts him high up, and throws him at the other two men. They tumble to the ground, Clark laughs. "That's the best you've got?"
The man with the chain gets to his feet and runs at Clark, swinging it wildly. Clark grabs his arm and takes the chain, then whips it at the man's leg, causing him to fall back to the ground. Clark turns around and the man with the switchblade attempts to stab him, but the blade snaps. The man throws it to the ground and tries punching Clark, which nearly breaks his hand. Clark grabs him, and tosses him twenty feet away; sending him onto the black van the three pulled up in. The top of the van caves in and the windshield and side-windows shatter.
Clark looks at the three, two of them on the ground hurting, the other on the van hurting even more. Clark thinks for a moment about what his father would say, but then he thinks about how everything else has changed, so why can't he? Clark begins walking away, out of the alley with his hands back in his pockets...feeling slightly better. But just above, on the steel stairs scaling the side of one of the buildings, a man in a trench coat kneels, holding a camera with a large zoom lens attached. He moves the camera away from his face after taking the last few shots of the action. He has a puzzled look on his face, but then smiles as he looks back at the camera and holds it like a check for a million dollars.
Clark walks down a busy sidewalk lined with restaurants and stores. He passes an electronics store with several TV's stacked up on top of each other in the display window, all with the same sports channel on. Clark stops to watch a bit of it, and sees the ending of a big football game. The players are heading back to their lockers, and a man with a microphone stops one of them, that is, THE one...Whitney Fordman, all star quarterback. Whitney takes off his helmet to answer a few questions. "I'm standing here with the Metropolis Shark's MVP, and NFL favorite, Whitney Fordman. Now, Whitney...how does it feel exactly to be you right now?" The interviewer asks.
"It's hard to describe, it really is. I'm always happy to win big games like this one, and I'm always happy when my team plays as good as they did today, but even if we lost I would still be happy...it's just so great to be here and to be playing with such a great team." Whitney replies. Clark doesn't watch anymore, he walks away down the street thinking about how hard Whitney must have had to work to be quarterback for the sharks...yeah right.
He stops on the street corner and takes a deep breath. Sirens are heard in the distance, Clark looks down the road and can see the flashing lights coming as the noise gets louder. A black sports car flies down the road, ignoring the red light, with the squad cars close behind. Someone is nearly run over, and several cars and street signs are hit. Clark watches the chase continue down another street. He carefully speeds through a vacant alley and then another, following the chase closely. The black sports car passes through the park, nearly injuring several frightened people.
It doesn't slow down; soon it crosses into on coming traffic to avoid the traffic jam. Police continue, but run into problems with the man's driving skill. Clark weaves in and out of alleys and all around the area, looking for an opportunity to end the chase. A large semi-truck pulls out onto the road only about ten yards ahead of the man in the black sports car. The man slams down on the breaks and looses all control. The car spins and when it's right side lifts up it runs into a building and rotates high in the air. Clark watches the car as it starts to fall back down to the ground. Then, he spots the odd salesman in the purple suit standing dangerously close to the car's potential landing spot. The salesman doesn't move though, he stands and watches in the midst of smashed cars, scared and angry people and a giant traffic jam. Clark has no choice but to save him before he is crushed.
He jets towards him in a flash and moves him out of the way just before the black car lands just where he was standing and flips over, completely broken down. Clark and the salesman lay in a vacant lot between two buildings; Clark gets to his feet and extends his hand to help the salesman up as well. The salesman takes it and is pulled up. The salesman doesn't let go for several moments, he looks into Clark's eyes and then a strange smirk appears on his face. "Thank you, young man." The salesman says, letting go of Clark's hand.
"Um...no problem." Clark says, not sure what the man now knows about him.
"I must say, that was quite something. You know, I would have been just fine without your kind assistance, but I accept it." The salesman says.
"(Sigh) Look, it's kind of a secret I've been keeping...the thing I just did, and I..." Clark starts.
"You don't have to worry about me telling anyone, they're all too preoccupied with their new lives to care. Clark Kent...I know who you are, what you are. I know all about you now, I know everything." The salesman says.
"Well...I doubt you know everything, but I'm sure..." Clark starts, but is interrupted.
"I know you still don't accept your gifts, and that you still have a desire to be normal. Just say the word, Mr. Kent." The salesman says.
"Say what word?" Clark asks, even though he knows what the man means.
"If you want to be normal...I can help. You know who I am, and what my special talents are. So just wish, Clark...simple as that." The salesman says.
"No...no, I would never. You may think I'm like everyone else, but I'm not." Clark protests.
"(Laughing) Of course I know your not like everyone else, Mr. Kent. I've know all your secrets and thoughts, you can't lie to me. You want to be different; you want to be normal. Think about it, you won't have to hide anything from your friends and run off to help someone because you feel you have to. Don't worry, you'll remember this day, this moment...and you can always come find me and wish you were back to your original self if you change your mind." The salesman says. Clark looks down to the ground, in deep thought. Moments later he lifts his head back up and looks at the salesman.
That night, at the Luthor Ancestral Home...Lex stands in his study drinking a glass of white wine. He's sets down the glass and picks up a white envelope that came into his possession about an hour earlier. He's opened the envelope, he's observed the contents of it several times, very carefully, and he finds himself doing it again. Lex calmly takes the pictures out of the envelope again and examines them. The first one shows Clark throwing one of the street thugs high into the air, another shows the attempted stabbing and another showing Clark whizzing around the man with the bat in a blur. A small smile crosses Lex's face as he continues to look at the pictures, then he sets them back down on the desk and takes another sip of the wine.
"What was it?" Clark asks curiously...but worried about what he might say.
"You know I've always said Smallville had potential, always, not any of my colleagues thought the same. My father gave me Smallville to stretch my legs and show him just exactly what his son can do. As you can see...I've stretched my legs quite a bit, don't you think?" Lex says.
"Lex...no. This isn't right, you've got to stop this...this town, it's a part of everyone...you can't..." Clark says but is interrupted by Lex.
"Part of everyone? If this town was so important to everyone they wouldn't of wished for different lives. You've seen it, Clark...all those mansions and rich people, that's what they voted for. I've realized that you can take any man and offer him a better life and they'll accept, even if it means radically changing it." Lex says.
"Not me...no, not me Lex. So what? You wished to turn Smallville into a junior metropolis?" Clark asks.
"Haha...no, but that kind of came with it. My wish was for my father to know exactly what I am capable of...now I own this city, and LuthorCorp. Soon I'll have the world, Clark...I'll have everything." Lex says.
"What are you saying, Lex? This is insane!" Clark yells.
"Everyone woke up today different, Clark, everyone." Lex says.
"I didn't, I'm going to stop this." Clark says, starting to walk away.
"Oh and by the way...in my new position I've realized that the right information can come quite easily if you want it. You're hiding something, Clark Kent...but don't think you can for long." Lex says with a smile. Clark keeps going without saying anything else; soon he is out of the Luthor Ancestral Home and heading somewhere far away where he can clear his head.
The next morning, nothing changed; Clark prayed for it to be at least a little like the Smallville he remembered just two days earlier when he woke up, but it was not. Jonathan, Martha and him sit at the breakfast table. Clark has a bowl of Corn Flakes in front of him, but he's not eating them. Clark remembered reading an article from a woman who had just recovered from a coma she was in for over five years. She said it was like a dream that you just couldn't wake up from, maybe that's what this is, Clark thought. The Kent farm didn't look different on first glance, but Clark had learned of the brand new farm equipment and all the debt vanishing. He would have never thought they, his parents, would take the easy way out. "Something wrong, Clark?" Martha Kent asks, looking across the table at him.
"Everything." Clark says under his breath.
"What?" Martha asks.
"(Sigh) Nothing, Mom, everything is great." Clark says, realizing now that this is definitely not a terrible joke his parents played on him.
"So, son...another day of no school. What are you thinking about doing?" Jonathan says, reading the paper.
"I'm...not sure, dad...I think I need some fresh air, maybe I'll take a walk." Clark says, getting up and grabbing his jacket.
"...Alright, have a...nice walk then, Clark." Martha says, curious of her son's unusual attitude.
"A walk?" Jonathan says, somewhat confused. Martha shrugs her shoulders and takes Clark's cereal bowl to the sink.
Clark walks again; early in the morning with his hands in his pockets, down another drastically changed street. He passes a bank and then turns down and alley. He stops and leans his back upon the wall. His eyes remain in one spot, focused, like he is in deep thought. Then, at the end of the alley, a black van with tinted windows pulls up. The side door slides open and three, large men dressed in black step out. Clark's not sure who they are, but he doesn't have a good feeling about them as they walk towards him, slowly. "We're looking for a guy named Kent, Clark Kent...you wouldn't happen to know where we could find him now could you?" One of the thugs asks.
"Looks like you found him, I'm Clark Kent." Clark says moving away from the wall and standing tall only a few feet from them. The men stare at him for a few moments, and then one reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black bat, another has a chain and the last has a switchblade. Clark tries not to smile, he's not scared or anything like that, he just wants a different feeling, something other than confusion or anger...some excitement. "Now what are you guys planning on doing with those?" Clark asks, carefree.
"We were thinking of rearranging that pretty face of yours, how's that sound?" The large man in the middle of the other two asks.
"I think you better turn around, because you don't stand a chance." Clark says, provoking them. In an instant, the man with the black bat lunges towards Clark and swings at him, but Clark easily avoids it. Clark begins to laugh as the man swings, not able to hit him. Clark darts around the large man, leaving him perplexed. The man takes begins to take another swing, he raises it high...Clark speeds behind him and grabs it. "Pretty far from the baseball field, buddy." Clark says as he snaps it in two with ease. The man starts to back off, but then runs at Clark in a rampage. Clark grabs him, lifts him high up, and throws him at the other two men. They tumble to the ground, Clark laughs. "That's the best you've got?"
The man with the chain gets to his feet and runs at Clark, swinging it wildly. Clark grabs his arm and takes the chain, then whips it at the man's leg, causing him to fall back to the ground. Clark turns around and the man with the switchblade attempts to stab him, but the blade snaps. The man throws it to the ground and tries punching Clark, which nearly breaks his hand. Clark grabs him, and tosses him twenty feet away; sending him onto the black van the three pulled up in. The top of the van caves in and the windshield and side-windows shatter.
Clark looks at the three, two of them on the ground hurting, the other on the van hurting even more. Clark thinks for a moment about what his father would say, but then he thinks about how everything else has changed, so why can't he? Clark begins walking away, out of the alley with his hands back in his pockets...feeling slightly better. But just above, on the steel stairs scaling the side of one of the buildings, a man in a trench coat kneels, holding a camera with a large zoom lens attached. He moves the camera away from his face after taking the last few shots of the action. He has a puzzled look on his face, but then smiles as he looks back at the camera and holds it like a check for a million dollars.
Clark walks down a busy sidewalk lined with restaurants and stores. He passes an electronics store with several TV's stacked up on top of each other in the display window, all with the same sports channel on. Clark stops to watch a bit of it, and sees the ending of a big football game. The players are heading back to their lockers, and a man with a microphone stops one of them, that is, THE one...Whitney Fordman, all star quarterback. Whitney takes off his helmet to answer a few questions. "I'm standing here with the Metropolis Shark's MVP, and NFL favorite, Whitney Fordman. Now, Whitney...how does it feel exactly to be you right now?" The interviewer asks.
"It's hard to describe, it really is. I'm always happy to win big games like this one, and I'm always happy when my team plays as good as they did today, but even if we lost I would still be happy...it's just so great to be here and to be playing with such a great team." Whitney replies. Clark doesn't watch anymore, he walks away down the street thinking about how hard Whitney must have had to work to be quarterback for the sharks...yeah right.
He stops on the street corner and takes a deep breath. Sirens are heard in the distance, Clark looks down the road and can see the flashing lights coming as the noise gets louder. A black sports car flies down the road, ignoring the red light, with the squad cars close behind. Someone is nearly run over, and several cars and street signs are hit. Clark watches the chase continue down another street. He carefully speeds through a vacant alley and then another, following the chase closely. The black sports car passes through the park, nearly injuring several frightened people.
It doesn't slow down; soon it crosses into on coming traffic to avoid the traffic jam. Police continue, but run into problems with the man's driving skill. Clark weaves in and out of alleys and all around the area, looking for an opportunity to end the chase. A large semi-truck pulls out onto the road only about ten yards ahead of the man in the black sports car. The man slams down on the breaks and looses all control. The car spins and when it's right side lifts up it runs into a building and rotates high in the air. Clark watches the car as it starts to fall back down to the ground. Then, he spots the odd salesman in the purple suit standing dangerously close to the car's potential landing spot. The salesman doesn't move though, he stands and watches in the midst of smashed cars, scared and angry people and a giant traffic jam. Clark has no choice but to save him before he is crushed.
He jets towards him in a flash and moves him out of the way just before the black car lands just where he was standing and flips over, completely broken down. Clark and the salesman lay in a vacant lot between two buildings; Clark gets to his feet and extends his hand to help the salesman up as well. The salesman takes it and is pulled up. The salesman doesn't let go for several moments, he looks into Clark's eyes and then a strange smirk appears on his face. "Thank you, young man." The salesman says, letting go of Clark's hand.
"Um...no problem." Clark says, not sure what the man now knows about him.
"I must say, that was quite something. You know, I would have been just fine without your kind assistance, but I accept it." The salesman says.
"(Sigh) Look, it's kind of a secret I've been keeping...the thing I just did, and I..." Clark starts.
"You don't have to worry about me telling anyone, they're all too preoccupied with their new lives to care. Clark Kent...I know who you are, what you are. I know all about you now, I know everything." The salesman says.
"Well...I doubt you know everything, but I'm sure..." Clark starts, but is interrupted.
"I know you still don't accept your gifts, and that you still have a desire to be normal. Just say the word, Mr. Kent." The salesman says.
"Say what word?" Clark asks, even though he knows what the man means.
"If you want to be normal...I can help. You know who I am, and what my special talents are. So just wish, Clark...simple as that." The salesman says.
"No...no, I would never. You may think I'm like everyone else, but I'm not." Clark protests.
"(Laughing) Of course I know your not like everyone else, Mr. Kent. I've know all your secrets and thoughts, you can't lie to me. You want to be different; you want to be normal. Think about it, you won't have to hide anything from your friends and run off to help someone because you feel you have to. Don't worry, you'll remember this day, this moment...and you can always come find me and wish you were back to your original self if you change your mind." The salesman says. Clark looks down to the ground, in deep thought. Moments later he lifts his head back up and looks at the salesman.
That night, at the Luthor Ancestral Home...Lex stands in his study drinking a glass of white wine. He's sets down the glass and picks up a white envelope that came into his possession about an hour earlier. He's opened the envelope, he's observed the contents of it several times, very carefully, and he finds himself doing it again. Lex calmly takes the pictures out of the envelope again and examines them. The first one shows Clark throwing one of the street thugs high into the air, another shows the attempted stabbing and another showing Clark whizzing around the man with the bat in a blur. A small smile crosses Lex's face as he continues to look at the pictures, then he sets them back down on the desk and takes another sip of the wine.