Happy music and lots of smiling accompanied the Kents' mornings, but today, they would get a little something more…
Clark was clicking through websites on kids like him that actually had publicity agents.
"What do these kids have that I haven't got?" he complained. "They aren't even from other planets."
"Shhh!" Martha scolded. "You're not supposed to know about that yet. Your father is really looking forward to telling you! And remember to act surprised," she added as Clark got up to drink milk out of the bottle.
Jonathon came down the stairs just in time to see Clark drinking from the bottle. "Good boy!" he said, clapping his son on the back. He didn't notice that Clark choked as he did so. "Taught him well, I did," he told Martha proudly.
Martha rolled her eyes. "Jonathon, you are really stupid, you know that? Look at your son! Look at him!" Clark was blue in the face and his eyes were watering as he pointed frantically at his throat.
"Oh, sorry there, son!" Jonathon said. "Let me help you out." He clapped him on the back again and the milk was dislodged. "There we go."
Clark gave him a withering look as he coughed. "Thanks," he said sarcastically.
"You know," Some Girl contributed, "I think that you may have ended up with the most moronic man in this inbred town!"
Everyone looked at her.
"How did you get in?" Martha asked, concerned with home safety.
"Who are you?" asked Clark, alarmed that he didn't recognize her.
"Hi," said Jonathon, extending his hand and smiling at the visitor. "I'm Jonathon, and this is Martha, and this is Clark, and he's adopted but we love him anyway and I work on a farm and so does Clark and so does Martha. What's your name?"
Martha and Clark turned to stare at him.
"Dad!" Clark protested at the same time that Martha said, "Jonathon!"
"Oh," said Some Girl, not noticing how upset two of her hosts were. "I'm actually not sure what my name is. How about Yixiara? No, too simple. What about Jane? No. Hmm… You know what? You can all call me Rachel," she said, smiling broadly.
Jonathon grinned dumbly and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Rachel."
Martha smacked him on the arm. "Jonathon, she could be an axe murderer! We don't know her!"
"Oh, don't worry," Rachel said. "I've been living in this town for about twelve years now. Well," she reconsidered, "not really living, more like sleeping until Clark grew up, but you know, it doesn't really matter. I've still been here."
"You've been sleeping for twelve years?" Clark asked, astonished.
Rachel shrugged. "More or less, yeah."
"Wow," said Martha. "You must feel well-rested."
Rachel nodded. "Oh, hey, Clark? You just missed your bus."
Clark looked out the window. "You're right. Want a ride?"
"Sure," Rachel said. She went and stood next to Clark, who lifted her in his arms.
"Bye, Mom," Clark said. "Bye, Dad."
"Bye, son!" Jonathon called as his son raced off. "Bye, Rachel!"
Martha smacked him on the arm.