Author's note: And this one's a long one to make up for a long time without an update. I also went through and fixed some errors in the last chapter...shoulda done that before but I forgot. Sorry! And, yes, today's has the bully incident and introduces Greg Atkins, aka, Bug Boy! Hooray! Oh...and to the reviewer who asked about Lana: I don't know if she'll appear for a while...but instead of Kryptonite keeping them apart, it's cooties (hey, they're kids.) This one starts off the same night as the last one. Two other notes: Nicodemus is actually a town in Kansas, settled by black exodusters in the 1800s and, being a Kansan, I am annoyed by the fact they continually put woodlands in Kansas. THERE AREN'T ANY. But, for the sake of making this fic easier to write, I have kept the mythical Smallville Woods. * sigh * we all gotta compromise...
Clark ran past the barns and through the fields, enjoying the cool evening air blow across his face. The land all around him was flat prarie with swells here and there on the horizon and a few lights that were houses. As he came upon a couple large rocks Clark's face broke into a grin. Earlier that day, his dad had asked him to get rid of them and Clark knew exaclty what he meant. He knew that, for whatever reason, he was stronger than most other kids around. This became abundantly clear when he first met Pete. His parents had told him before hand not to use his strength in front of other people and it turned out to be a good thing he listened: Pete was pretty weak. Until then, Clark had always figured that all kids were really strong and only lost their strength when they became adults. Maybe it was because around his parents, he could use it as much as he wanted and they ever acted as though it were weird or anything. If a matchbox truck went under the couch, he simply lifted up the couch and got it again. Pete could not do that and from what Clark gathered from the other kids he met at school, neither could they. Clark was suddenly faced with the knowledge that he was different. He knew he was adopted; Pete had bombarded him with questions about that when he first heard and Clark had answered everyone of them. Did he remember his natural parents? No. He only knew his parents. Where was he from? Metropolis or somewhere farther away? Clark didn't know that either. When Pete was finally convinced that Clark really didn't know anything about his life before the Kents, he let up and said, "I guessed adopted kids aren't that different after all," and Clark had believed him. Except for the strength. That made him different. Clark picked up the boulders and threw them over the fence, where they wouldn't be in the way of the plows and then headed back to the house.
That evening, Clark asked his father about his strength while they were did the evening chores. "Some men are tall," his dad told him, "some are short. Every man has some sort of skill others don't. It just so happens that yours is strength."
"Then why can't I use it? Off the farm I mean." His dad was a little slower in answering this one but after he finished pouring grain he said, "You told us today that the other students in your grade didn't like you because you knew more than they did and always answered the questions." Clark nodded as he placed some buckets on a shelf. "how do you think they'd feel if they learned you're a lot stronger than they are?"
"I--I don't know. I guess they would feel the same way," Clark said slowly.
"Exactly." The unfairness of it all suddenly struck Clark. "But Dad, why should they hate me for something I can't control? The only reason I know more than they do is because mom taught me more, but no one taught me how to be strong."
"I know and that might make them dislike you all the more," Jonathan said calmly, taking off his workgloves.
Clark clenched his teeth together. "I don't like that."
His father shrugged resignedly. "Neither do I, Clark, but that's the way things are. If you really want to be accepted by your classmates, you have to pretend to be just as strong as they are but never stronger. Just as smart as they are, never smarter."
Clark thought about this for a moment. Was that what he really wanted? To be accepted by his classmates? He remembered the looks they'd gave him, the homeschooled one, and decided right then that, yes, it was. "I can do that," he told his dad confidently.
"Alright, if you're sure you can." Clark nodded and the two of them headed back to the house, Jonathan's hand on his shoulder.
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"You may want to file for divorce, Martha," Jonathan called down into the storm cellar.
Martha turned around and looked at her husband standing on the stairs. "Oh, really? Why this time?"
"I just told our son to be average." Martha laughed and Jonathan managed to crack as small grin as he headed over to her.
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I won't be leaving that easily. Besides, I need to know just why you told Clark to be average before I decide to call a lawyer."
"He wanted to know why he couldn't use his strength in front of the entire world."
"And you told him 'because of the importance of being average'? I don't think Clark would buy that."
"Well, first he asked why he was stronger than others and I just told him that was his skill, like some people are good at banking--"
Martha smiled "And others are good at--"
"Yeah," Jonathan inturrupted. "Then I told him that if he used that particular one in front of his peers they would hate him just like they hated him for knowing more than they did."
"Jonathan, that's brutal."
"I know. And knowing it's true doesn't make it any easier to deal with. But at least I managed get him to decide it would be in his interest to keep what he knows a secret. Now that he's going to school--"
"We can't keep him completely blind to the fact he's different," Martha finished for him.
"No we can't," Jonathan said, kissing her hair.
"Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if we had just kept him on the farm, homeschooled him and kept his connections to the outside world a bare minimum," Martha continued.
"You know that wouldn't be right."
"But it would have made it a lot easier to keep it all a secret. What if Clark hadn't willingly agreed not to use his strength in front of everyone? What would we have done then?"
"I don't know," Jonathan admitted. "Something else. Something harsher."
Martha just shook her head. "I wonder if we should tell him," she said, eyeing the black spaceship.
"No, Martha. Now is definitely not the time. He knows he's different but he's satisfied with the fact he's just stronger. When that no longer works, that's when we tell him. He's too young. You know that."
"I know." They stood there in the dim light together silent for a moment and then Martha went on. "Sometimes, I think that if I just stand here long enough, the ship will open and it will tell us how we're doing and what to do next. That maybe his parents will pop out and tell us we're doing a wonderful job and that will be that."
"And maybe a user's guide and a certificate of achievement to boot," Jonathan added.
Martha smiled. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I still wish it would happen all the same."
"I know. It would be nice to know something at least. I've done as much as I can with that metal disc without rasing suspicion. I mean, how often does a farmer sudden become interested in ancient writing systems?"
"Suppose they come back for him?" Martha asked. "What do we do then?"
"Take them to our leader and let him deal with him?"
"Brillant, Jonathan. I bet they won't even understand the reference."
"That's what I'll be counting on. Come on, it's getting cold. Let's go back inside, Martha."
She gave the silent spaceship one last look and then said, "Okay," and headed back up the stairs.
***************************************************************************
Pete was all grins the next day when Clark met him on their way to the bus stop. "They only took away video game privledges," he announced. "Other than that, they told me to stop messing around in class and that I should pay attention. Yours?"
"Pretty much the same, except for the video games. I just have to pay attention more." He kicked the dirt. "I wish we had video games in school. Then we wouldn't have to be bored."
Pete gave him a pitying look. "Don't worry. When I get mine back, you can come over and play whenever you want to. If I can get it away from my brothers."
Clark nodded. Pete had about three older brothers and an older sister to boot. He was never actually sure how many. Some of them were just uncles while others were cousins visiting from Nicodemus, the town Pete's family had moved away from about twenty years before to open a creamed corn factory.
School went a bit better that day. Instead of using the "look dumb" method, Clark answered some of the questions and then sat there for the rest, Pete doing the same on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Clark had a new deskmate to get to know. The boy was short and skinny and wore glasses "I'm Clark," he said after he sat down. "I'm Greg Atkins," he responded quietly. "You're one of theose kids who got in trouble yesterday aren't you?"
Clark didn't see the point of denying it. "Yeah. Me and Pete drew a pictureof the school burning down and she wasn't too happy about it." He nodded in the direction of the teacher.
Greg grinned. "That's cool. Sometims I wish it'd do the same."
Clark began to relax around him at this. "I think most of us do. Hey, you wanna hang out with Pete and me during recess? We're gonna try to get one of the basketballs and play."
"Sure!" He said eagerly.
Clark introduced Greg to Pete at the beginning of recess and Pete squinted at him. "Doesn't your family live down the road from mine?" He threw the ball at him.
Greg nodded. "Yeah, we live closer to the woods though. My dad built me a tree house out thre. Said I spent enough time in the woods I might as well have a place out there." He shot at the basket and missed but Clark caught it and dribbled. "What is there to do in the woods?" He asked.
"Bug collecting. I collect bugs. My mom won't let me have them in the house so I have to leave them in the treehouse." Clark threw the ball at Pete and crinkeled his nose in disgust. "Why don't you just let them go?"
Pete laugned and three the ball back at Clark hitting him square in the chest. "Cause that wouldn't be COLLECTING them. It'd be finding them and letting them go again, stupid." Clark rubbed his chest where the ball had hit him and started walking over to where it had rolled but before he could reach it, Nathan picked it up. "Here, that's ours," Clark said, reaching out for the ball.
"Not any more .You and those other babies can go play somewhere else. The basketball court's for third graders." Pete and Greg watched nervously.
Clark glared and the older kid. "That's not in the rules.We can play basketball if we want to."
"Yeah, sure you can and I can beat you up if I want to," the bully responded and pushed Clark hard. Surprised, Clark fell to the ground and the third grader laughed and walked away, taking the ball with him. Clark got up on his feet and was about to chase after him but Pete stopped him. "Don't. Go. After. Him," he said slowly, emphasizing each word. "We can do something else." Clark glared at Pete. "He took our ball. I'm gonna get it back."
"No, you're not. You're gonna let him go and...and Greg's gonna show us ins and outs of bug collecting, right Greg?"
Greg had been shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot during the whole episode and looks as uncertain now as he had before. "Yeah, sure. I can show you how to collect ants. I need more for my ant farm." They then spent the rest of the recess chasing down ants in the grass and trying to find anthills, which was entertaining enough.
Greg grinned at the ants he now had in a baby food jar. "I'll put them with the others this weekend. If you want, you guys can come and see. I can show you my treehouse and all."
Clark looked at Pete who was also grinning and said, "Sure we can do that."
***************************************************************************
That recess was the best part of the day, Clark thought as he sat in class next to Greg, who was doodling six-legged creatures in his notebook. Clark shifted in his chair uncomfortably. It was September, technically fall but in Kansas it was still the dog days of summer and Clark was sticking to his seat. He glanced over at Pete's seat. 'No, still empty,' he thought. Pete had gone to the bathroom about ten minutes ago and was still gone. Finally, he raised his hand. "Yes, Clark?" "Can I go get a drink of water?" His teacher nodded and Clark left the room, gratefully. He headed in the direction of the water fountain but took a detour at the boys restroom. When he opened the door, somehow he wasn't surprised when he saw Pete being held with his hand behind his back by Nathan. Pete looked at him with a pained look on his face but the bully just smiled when he saw Clark. "Just wait there, baby, I'll wash your head when I'm done with his."
"Let him go," Clark said angrily.
"Make me." The third grader wrenched Pete behind him, pushing him into the toilet stall and he made to lock the door but Clark rushed at the bully and pulled him away from Pete and out of the stall. Clark only meant to get him out of the way but he forgot himself and threw Nathan. The third grader crashed into the door, splintering it. "Come on," Clark said to Pete, holding out his hand. Pete grabbed it and they leaned over at Nathan, who was lying there blocking the door. "Gee, I guess us BABIES will just go now," Pete said loudly. Nathan opened his eyes painfully and groaned. "Come on," Clark said urgently. He pulled Pete out of the restroom and they started walking down the hall. "What's wrong with you?" Pete asked. "Why do you want to go? We HAD him, he was totally sprawled out on the floor, we coulda--."
Clark interrupted him. "We coulda hurt him. Look, I just got in trouble yesterday for drawing in class, I don't want to get in trouble again for getting in a fight."
"Ha, some fight."
"Besides," Clark swallowed, this was his real worry, "what if he tells? What'll we do then? Or what if he comes after us again?"
Pete laughed, which did nothing to ease Clark's fears. "Tell? Tell them what? That he got beat up by two second graders? He'd rather say he threw himself into that door. I don't think he'll come after us either...you scared him," Pete threw Clark a significant look. "How'd you do that? Throw him like that?"
"I dunno...it all just...happened too fast." But it didn't matter...Pete wasn't really listening. He was too busy reinacting what had happened and it made Clark wonder...Pete didn't hate him because he was stronger than he was. Then again, he hadn't really been paying attention. "Hey, we're going? The classroom's the other way."
"I know," Clark said with a smile. "I'm getting a drink."
***************************************************************************
Clark snuck into the barn in a way that implied he didn't want to be noticed but Jonathan noticed him anyway. "Hey, where'd you put today's note?" he asked teasingly, coming out from under the hood of one of the trucks. The joke rather died when, instead of laughing or even cracking a smile, Clark just gave him that look. 'Oh, no.' "Look, Clark, I was just joking...unless of course, there is a note."
Clark shook his head. "No, no note but that's only because I didn't get caught."
Jonathan didn't like where this conversation was going. Clark was a good kid, how the heck could he get in trouble two days in a row? He sighed, "Tell me."
"There's been this bully bugging me an' Pete and today when I went to the restroom to find Pete, Nathan was trying to stick his head in a toilet so I grabbed him off Pete and sorta, kinda...threw him into the door."
Jonathan winced. "Is he okay?"
Clark shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know but the door isn't."
'I will not laugh,' Jonathan told himself sternly as he felt a smile tugging at his mouth. He decided to concentrate on the fact Clark didn't seem all too concerned about the bully's welfare. "What do you mean, you don't know? Clark, you can't just throw someone into a door and leave him there."
Clark bristled. "He was about to shove Pete's head into a toilet. I wasn't thinking--"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"You weren't thinking," Jonathan folded his arms across his chest.
"Yes, I was, I just wasn't thinking about Nathan."
"Yeah, you were just thinking about Pete and you forgot to think about everything else."
"I thought about what mattered."
Jonathan sighed. This wasn't going to be kind, but needed to be said. "Okay, so you prevented a bully from sticking Pete's head in a toilet. Gerat job. Then why did you seem so afraid you'd get in trouble?"
Now the worry surfaced on Clark's face. "Because we're not supposed to fight."
"And as soon as you saw wwhat was going on you forgot that rule. Clark, whenever something like that happens, you go to a teacher. That's safer for two reasons."
Clark fidgeted for a moment, then said, "Pete didn't really seem to mind that I was stronger than him."
"Pete was probably too relieved you stopped Nathan to much care about anything else."
"But still..." Clark trailed off. "I guess I'll go now." Jonathan knew what Clark had left unsaid. He knew that Clark had hoped it would be okay to at least show his best friend what he could do. Jonathan would have wanted the same. Clark turned to go but Jonathan stopped him.
"Clark, you did well despite the fact you broke the rules. You saw something bad happening and you stopped it. I'm not mad at you for that. It's just--you need to be careful, son. I don't want the school calling me asking for an explanation as to how a seven year-old could break a bathroom door."
Clark broke into a grin, relieve Jonathan wasn't completely mad at him. "I know, I will be careful," he responded before running off.
Jonathan stood there silently in the barn for a moment staring at the place where Clark had just been. Suddenly, in a moment of frustration, he threw the tool he was holding angrily and it landed with a dull thud on the ground. 'Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if we had just kept him on the farm, homeschooled him and kept his connections to the outside world a bare minimum.' Martha's words from last night came back to him. 'Yeah,' he thought grimly, 'but who am I to ever take the easy way out?'
Next week: Clark and Kryptonite meet for the first time:
Clark: I don't feel well.
Pete: Are you part bloodhound, Clark?
Greg: Look, guys, a bug, a bird! No, wait, it's just a bug with a green rock imbedded in his head.
Clark ran past the barns and through the fields, enjoying the cool evening air blow across his face. The land all around him was flat prarie with swells here and there on the horizon and a few lights that were houses. As he came upon a couple large rocks Clark's face broke into a grin. Earlier that day, his dad had asked him to get rid of them and Clark knew exaclty what he meant. He knew that, for whatever reason, he was stronger than most other kids around. This became abundantly clear when he first met Pete. His parents had told him before hand not to use his strength in front of other people and it turned out to be a good thing he listened: Pete was pretty weak. Until then, Clark had always figured that all kids were really strong and only lost their strength when they became adults. Maybe it was because around his parents, he could use it as much as he wanted and they ever acted as though it were weird or anything. If a matchbox truck went under the couch, he simply lifted up the couch and got it again. Pete could not do that and from what Clark gathered from the other kids he met at school, neither could they. Clark was suddenly faced with the knowledge that he was different. He knew he was adopted; Pete had bombarded him with questions about that when he first heard and Clark had answered everyone of them. Did he remember his natural parents? No. He only knew his parents. Where was he from? Metropolis or somewhere farther away? Clark didn't know that either. When Pete was finally convinced that Clark really didn't know anything about his life before the Kents, he let up and said, "I guessed adopted kids aren't that different after all," and Clark had believed him. Except for the strength. That made him different. Clark picked up the boulders and threw them over the fence, where they wouldn't be in the way of the plows and then headed back to the house.
That evening, Clark asked his father about his strength while they were did the evening chores. "Some men are tall," his dad told him, "some are short. Every man has some sort of skill others don't. It just so happens that yours is strength."
"Then why can't I use it? Off the farm I mean." His dad was a little slower in answering this one but after he finished pouring grain he said, "You told us today that the other students in your grade didn't like you because you knew more than they did and always answered the questions." Clark nodded as he placed some buckets on a shelf. "how do you think they'd feel if they learned you're a lot stronger than they are?"
"I--I don't know. I guess they would feel the same way," Clark said slowly.
"Exactly." The unfairness of it all suddenly struck Clark. "But Dad, why should they hate me for something I can't control? The only reason I know more than they do is because mom taught me more, but no one taught me how to be strong."
"I know and that might make them dislike you all the more," Jonathan said calmly, taking off his workgloves.
Clark clenched his teeth together. "I don't like that."
His father shrugged resignedly. "Neither do I, Clark, but that's the way things are. If you really want to be accepted by your classmates, you have to pretend to be just as strong as they are but never stronger. Just as smart as they are, never smarter."
Clark thought about this for a moment. Was that what he really wanted? To be accepted by his classmates? He remembered the looks they'd gave him, the homeschooled one, and decided right then that, yes, it was. "I can do that," he told his dad confidently.
"Alright, if you're sure you can." Clark nodded and the two of them headed back to the house, Jonathan's hand on his shoulder.
***************************************************************************
"You may want to file for divorce, Martha," Jonathan called down into the storm cellar.
Martha turned around and looked at her husband standing on the stairs. "Oh, really? Why this time?"
"I just told our son to be average." Martha laughed and Jonathan managed to crack as small grin as he headed over to her.
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I won't be leaving that easily. Besides, I need to know just why you told Clark to be average before I decide to call a lawyer."
"He wanted to know why he couldn't use his strength in front of the entire world."
"And you told him 'because of the importance of being average'? I don't think Clark would buy that."
"Well, first he asked why he was stronger than others and I just told him that was his skill, like some people are good at banking--"
Martha smiled "And others are good at--"
"Yeah," Jonathan inturrupted. "Then I told him that if he used that particular one in front of his peers they would hate him just like they hated him for knowing more than they did."
"Jonathan, that's brutal."
"I know. And knowing it's true doesn't make it any easier to deal with. But at least I managed get him to decide it would be in his interest to keep what he knows a secret. Now that he's going to school--"
"We can't keep him completely blind to the fact he's different," Martha finished for him.
"No we can't," Jonathan said, kissing her hair.
"Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if we had just kept him on the farm, homeschooled him and kept his connections to the outside world a bare minimum," Martha continued.
"You know that wouldn't be right."
"But it would have made it a lot easier to keep it all a secret. What if Clark hadn't willingly agreed not to use his strength in front of everyone? What would we have done then?"
"I don't know," Jonathan admitted. "Something else. Something harsher."
Martha just shook her head. "I wonder if we should tell him," she said, eyeing the black spaceship.
"No, Martha. Now is definitely not the time. He knows he's different but he's satisfied with the fact he's just stronger. When that no longer works, that's when we tell him. He's too young. You know that."
"I know." They stood there in the dim light together silent for a moment and then Martha went on. "Sometimes, I think that if I just stand here long enough, the ship will open and it will tell us how we're doing and what to do next. That maybe his parents will pop out and tell us we're doing a wonderful job and that will be that."
"And maybe a user's guide and a certificate of achievement to boot," Jonathan added.
Martha smiled. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I still wish it would happen all the same."
"I know. It would be nice to know something at least. I've done as much as I can with that metal disc without rasing suspicion. I mean, how often does a farmer sudden become interested in ancient writing systems?"
"Suppose they come back for him?" Martha asked. "What do we do then?"
"Take them to our leader and let him deal with him?"
"Brillant, Jonathan. I bet they won't even understand the reference."
"That's what I'll be counting on. Come on, it's getting cold. Let's go back inside, Martha."
She gave the silent spaceship one last look and then said, "Okay," and headed back up the stairs.
***************************************************************************
Pete was all grins the next day when Clark met him on their way to the bus stop. "They only took away video game privledges," he announced. "Other than that, they told me to stop messing around in class and that I should pay attention. Yours?"
"Pretty much the same, except for the video games. I just have to pay attention more." He kicked the dirt. "I wish we had video games in school. Then we wouldn't have to be bored."
Pete gave him a pitying look. "Don't worry. When I get mine back, you can come over and play whenever you want to. If I can get it away from my brothers."
Clark nodded. Pete had about three older brothers and an older sister to boot. He was never actually sure how many. Some of them were just uncles while others were cousins visiting from Nicodemus, the town Pete's family had moved away from about twenty years before to open a creamed corn factory.
School went a bit better that day. Instead of using the "look dumb" method, Clark answered some of the questions and then sat there for the rest, Pete doing the same on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Clark had a new deskmate to get to know. The boy was short and skinny and wore glasses "I'm Clark," he said after he sat down. "I'm Greg Atkins," he responded quietly. "You're one of theose kids who got in trouble yesterday aren't you?"
Clark didn't see the point of denying it. "Yeah. Me and Pete drew a pictureof the school burning down and she wasn't too happy about it." He nodded in the direction of the teacher.
Greg grinned. "That's cool. Sometims I wish it'd do the same."
Clark began to relax around him at this. "I think most of us do. Hey, you wanna hang out with Pete and me during recess? We're gonna try to get one of the basketballs and play."
"Sure!" He said eagerly.
Clark introduced Greg to Pete at the beginning of recess and Pete squinted at him. "Doesn't your family live down the road from mine?" He threw the ball at him.
Greg nodded. "Yeah, we live closer to the woods though. My dad built me a tree house out thre. Said I spent enough time in the woods I might as well have a place out there." He shot at the basket and missed but Clark caught it and dribbled. "What is there to do in the woods?" He asked.
"Bug collecting. I collect bugs. My mom won't let me have them in the house so I have to leave them in the treehouse." Clark threw the ball at Pete and crinkeled his nose in disgust. "Why don't you just let them go?"
Pete laugned and three the ball back at Clark hitting him square in the chest. "Cause that wouldn't be COLLECTING them. It'd be finding them and letting them go again, stupid." Clark rubbed his chest where the ball had hit him and started walking over to where it had rolled but before he could reach it, Nathan picked it up. "Here, that's ours," Clark said, reaching out for the ball.
"Not any more .You and those other babies can go play somewhere else. The basketball court's for third graders." Pete and Greg watched nervously.
Clark glared and the older kid. "That's not in the rules.We can play basketball if we want to."
"Yeah, sure you can and I can beat you up if I want to," the bully responded and pushed Clark hard. Surprised, Clark fell to the ground and the third grader laughed and walked away, taking the ball with him. Clark got up on his feet and was about to chase after him but Pete stopped him. "Don't. Go. After. Him," he said slowly, emphasizing each word. "We can do something else." Clark glared at Pete. "He took our ball. I'm gonna get it back."
"No, you're not. You're gonna let him go and...and Greg's gonna show us ins and outs of bug collecting, right Greg?"
Greg had been shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot during the whole episode and looks as uncertain now as he had before. "Yeah, sure. I can show you how to collect ants. I need more for my ant farm." They then spent the rest of the recess chasing down ants in the grass and trying to find anthills, which was entertaining enough.
Greg grinned at the ants he now had in a baby food jar. "I'll put them with the others this weekend. If you want, you guys can come and see. I can show you my treehouse and all."
Clark looked at Pete who was also grinning and said, "Sure we can do that."
***************************************************************************
That recess was the best part of the day, Clark thought as he sat in class next to Greg, who was doodling six-legged creatures in his notebook. Clark shifted in his chair uncomfortably. It was September, technically fall but in Kansas it was still the dog days of summer and Clark was sticking to his seat. He glanced over at Pete's seat. 'No, still empty,' he thought. Pete had gone to the bathroom about ten minutes ago and was still gone. Finally, he raised his hand. "Yes, Clark?" "Can I go get a drink of water?" His teacher nodded and Clark left the room, gratefully. He headed in the direction of the water fountain but took a detour at the boys restroom. When he opened the door, somehow he wasn't surprised when he saw Pete being held with his hand behind his back by Nathan. Pete looked at him with a pained look on his face but the bully just smiled when he saw Clark. "Just wait there, baby, I'll wash your head when I'm done with his."
"Let him go," Clark said angrily.
"Make me." The third grader wrenched Pete behind him, pushing him into the toilet stall and he made to lock the door but Clark rushed at the bully and pulled him away from Pete and out of the stall. Clark only meant to get him out of the way but he forgot himself and threw Nathan. The third grader crashed into the door, splintering it. "Come on," Clark said to Pete, holding out his hand. Pete grabbed it and they leaned over at Nathan, who was lying there blocking the door. "Gee, I guess us BABIES will just go now," Pete said loudly. Nathan opened his eyes painfully and groaned. "Come on," Clark said urgently. He pulled Pete out of the restroom and they started walking down the hall. "What's wrong with you?" Pete asked. "Why do you want to go? We HAD him, he was totally sprawled out on the floor, we coulda--."
Clark interrupted him. "We coulda hurt him. Look, I just got in trouble yesterday for drawing in class, I don't want to get in trouble again for getting in a fight."
"Ha, some fight."
"Besides," Clark swallowed, this was his real worry, "what if he tells? What'll we do then? Or what if he comes after us again?"
Pete laughed, which did nothing to ease Clark's fears. "Tell? Tell them what? That he got beat up by two second graders? He'd rather say he threw himself into that door. I don't think he'll come after us either...you scared him," Pete threw Clark a significant look. "How'd you do that? Throw him like that?"
"I dunno...it all just...happened too fast." But it didn't matter...Pete wasn't really listening. He was too busy reinacting what had happened and it made Clark wonder...Pete didn't hate him because he was stronger than he was. Then again, he hadn't really been paying attention. "Hey, we're going? The classroom's the other way."
"I know," Clark said with a smile. "I'm getting a drink."
***************************************************************************
Clark snuck into the barn in a way that implied he didn't want to be noticed but Jonathan noticed him anyway. "Hey, where'd you put today's note?" he asked teasingly, coming out from under the hood of one of the trucks. The joke rather died when, instead of laughing or even cracking a smile, Clark just gave him that look. 'Oh, no.' "Look, Clark, I was just joking...unless of course, there is a note."
Clark shook his head. "No, no note but that's only because I didn't get caught."
Jonathan didn't like where this conversation was going. Clark was a good kid, how the heck could he get in trouble two days in a row? He sighed, "Tell me."
"There's been this bully bugging me an' Pete and today when I went to the restroom to find Pete, Nathan was trying to stick his head in a toilet so I grabbed him off Pete and sorta, kinda...threw him into the door."
Jonathan winced. "Is he okay?"
Clark shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know but the door isn't."
'I will not laugh,' Jonathan told himself sternly as he felt a smile tugging at his mouth. He decided to concentrate on the fact Clark didn't seem all too concerned about the bully's welfare. "What do you mean, you don't know? Clark, you can't just throw someone into a door and leave him there."
Clark bristled. "He was about to shove Pete's head into a toilet. I wasn't thinking--"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"You weren't thinking," Jonathan folded his arms across his chest.
"Yes, I was, I just wasn't thinking about Nathan."
"Yeah, you were just thinking about Pete and you forgot to think about everything else."
"I thought about what mattered."
Jonathan sighed. This wasn't going to be kind, but needed to be said. "Okay, so you prevented a bully from sticking Pete's head in a toilet. Gerat job. Then why did you seem so afraid you'd get in trouble?"
Now the worry surfaced on Clark's face. "Because we're not supposed to fight."
"And as soon as you saw wwhat was going on you forgot that rule. Clark, whenever something like that happens, you go to a teacher. That's safer for two reasons."
Clark fidgeted for a moment, then said, "Pete didn't really seem to mind that I was stronger than him."
"Pete was probably too relieved you stopped Nathan to much care about anything else."
"But still..." Clark trailed off. "I guess I'll go now." Jonathan knew what Clark had left unsaid. He knew that Clark had hoped it would be okay to at least show his best friend what he could do. Jonathan would have wanted the same. Clark turned to go but Jonathan stopped him.
"Clark, you did well despite the fact you broke the rules. You saw something bad happening and you stopped it. I'm not mad at you for that. It's just--you need to be careful, son. I don't want the school calling me asking for an explanation as to how a seven year-old could break a bathroom door."
Clark broke into a grin, relieve Jonathan wasn't completely mad at him. "I know, I will be careful," he responded before running off.
Jonathan stood there silently in the barn for a moment staring at the place where Clark had just been. Suddenly, in a moment of frustration, he threw the tool he was holding angrily and it landed with a dull thud on the ground. 'Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if we had just kept him on the farm, homeschooled him and kept his connections to the outside world a bare minimum.' Martha's words from last night came back to him. 'Yeah,' he thought grimly, 'but who am I to ever take the easy way out?'
Next week: Clark and Kryptonite meet for the first time:
Clark: I don't feel well.
Pete: Are you part bloodhound, Clark?
Greg: Look, guys, a bug, a bird! No, wait, it's just a bug with a green rock imbedded in his head.