Note: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my Grandpa who recently passed away.
Clark's POV
"Have you seen my shirt?"
"It's under the table." I sigh and rest my head against the blankets again. It's Friday morning and the two of us are running late. Lana is bouncing around, frantically trying to find her clothes.
My eyes travel over to her semi exposed body. Memories of last night plague my mind and I find it impossible to concentrate on anything other than her.
"Clark, aren't you going to get dressed?" Lana asks, sounding exasperated.
I yawn and sit up on the couch, only in my boxers. I gracefully catch a pair of jeans that Lana throws at me.
"Lana, can't we just skip school today? It's only Friday and I can clear my own absences now that I've turn eighteen."
"Absolutely not," Lana says firmly, buttoning up her shirt. "We only have a few weeks of school left and I plan to enjoy my remaining time of high school."
I sigh and pull up my jeans. Lana throws me my shirt and I begin to pull it on.
"Hurry up, Clark. I still need to get my backpack."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. One minute I adore her, the next, she's driving me crazy.
"Lana, we're already late as it is; what's another couple of minutes going to matter?"
Lana chooses to ignore my comment.
I grab my backpack over at my desk and sling it over my shoulder. I glance at her; she's running her hands through her hair.
"Lana, you look fine. Weren't you the one who told me to 'hurry up'?"
"Okay, okay." Lana gives up on her hair and begins to follow me down the stairs.
"Did you have a good time last night?" I ask her slyly as we exit the barn.
Lana nudges me with her elbow playfully. "Clark…"
"What?" I reply innocently.
Lana giggles, but suddenly stops. "Clark—your mom."
I turn my head from her and low and behold, there is my mom. Instead of her hands on her hips and a fly swatter made out of kryptonite to punish me, there is a phone in her hand and her eyes are rimmed with red like she's been crying.
"Mom?" I ask, concerned. I throw my back pack on the ground and approach her. Lana stays a few steps behind me.
"What's wrong?" Up close, her face is blotchy and red; it's obvious that she's been crying hard.
"Clark…your father…"
Dread bubbles in the pit of my stomach. Behind me, I hear Lana come to a stop, as if wondering if she should intrude.
"Mom, what is it?" I inquire, my voice sounding oddly distant. I half wish that she won't answer my question.
"Oh, Clark." Mom sobs, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. "He's gone…"
I blink, not quite comprehending her. I ask tentatively, already knowing the answer, "Who is, Mom?"
"Dad…oh, sweetie, he's gone."
Gone…
The word rings in head, repeating itself over and over as if trying to get me to believe it.
"No…" I whisper, barely recognizing the tears streaming down my cheeks. I reach out to my mother and he hugs me tightly. Behind me, Lana hesitantly takes a step closer and soon I feel her rub soothing circles on my back.
You know how the weather seems to typically reflect people's moods and feelings? Like, when it's sunny, people tend to be happy, and when it's raining, people tend to feel sad? Well, in this case, the weather has nothing to do with my mood.
The Kansas sun beats down on us, wilting our stiff collars and pressed dresses. Behind my mother and me, I hear people shifting in their seats, trying their best not to fan themselves with their hands to keep cool. You'd have thought that these people knew not to wear black on a Sunday afternoon like this, right?
Well, it's not like I or the countless others that turned out for my Dad's funeral have a choice. It is a funeral after all. I turn to the right at my mom who is dabbing at her eyes with a wadded up tissue. She feels my eyes on her and turns. I force a small smile for her sake and she takes my hand, gently squeezing it. I peel my eyes off of her; unable to look at her puffy eyes or blotchy face for fear that I will start to cry, too.
Instead, I look around and finally spot Lana sitting with Chloe and her dad a row behind us. She seems to notice my gaze on her and looks up from her lap. She manages a small smile and I continue to gaze at her until I hear the minister speak my name.
The minister offers me a kind, encouraging smile. I glance at Mom one last time before standing and turning around to face everyone. It seems like everyone in Smallville showed up for Dad's funeral. Farmers from all the way in Grandville whom Dad associated with at farmer markets and such, some of Dad's former school mates from way back in the day, and even Pete and his family are all in attendance to pay their respects to this great man.
The only person not in attendance whom I thought would be is Lex Luthor. Although he did lie to my family and me, he did pull us out of sticky financial situations in the past. He even bought our farm for us when we were about to lose it.
As far as I'm concerned, my friendship with Lex is over. I'm not too bitter about it, though. Like Lana said, eventually you learn to let go and move on. And if I haven't already, then I will.
Someone near the front coughs and I remember why I'm standing in front of everyone. Behind me, Dad's casket is open. I could barely bring myself to look at it earlier for the reason that I didn't want that image…that image of him lying there, pale, lifeless, dead, to be my last of him.
I glance at my mom again and she sends a teary-eyed smile at me. I take a breath and begin.
"Well, Mom and the minister thought that it would be nice to say a few words about Dad before…before we bury him." I pause and look around. "To tell you the truth, I didn't really prepare anything to say because…well, what is there to say, really?"
"I can tell you that Jonathon Kent was a loving husband and a kind father. He was a caring person, in general. He cared deeply for his family and would go to the ends of the world for his family and friends. But, none of these things matter unless you knew him for the man that he was. You can sit here and listen to me go on and on and in the end, it would be just a bunch of words."
I lower my eyes and take a breath. "But, for those of you who do know him, I can tell you that he cared for provided for my mom and me. He taught me everything that I know today. And I don't mean how to milk the cows or fix the tractor…. Dad showed me how to always look for the best in people, have faith in others, and to love someone with all my heart. It is because of him that I am the man I am today."
"It wasn't fair that he was taken away from his wife, his son, and his friends so soon. I still have a full life ahead of me. A life that I would have liked to share with him. Dad…he never got to see me grow to my full potential…and he never will. He will never see me married or teach his grandchildren the things that he taught me."
I pause and wipe my tears with the back of my arm.
"And I will never be able to hug him and thank him for showing me what it means to be a man."
I wipe my tears away again and I feel the minister place his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you, Clark."
I nod and blindly make my way back to my seat. Mom leans over and hugs me, kissing me on the cheek. I hug her back tightly, trying my best not to break down.
The minister says a few more words and soon, Dad's casket is closed and lowered into the freshly dug hole. Mom and I stand off to the side and watch as they do this.
"Good-bye, Dad," I whisper as I watch the workers start to pile dirt on his coffin.
Once the funeral is over, people start to pile into their air conditioned cars, shedding off black suits as they go in. Mom stays behind with a couple of family friends, chatting quietly. Soon, the few that are daring enough to go, will all head back to the house to further mourn for the loss of a great man.
Behind me, I hear footsteps approaching. Suspecting it as Lana, Pete, or even Chloe, I turn around.
"Hey, man." Pete pulls me into a hug, slapping me on the back. I notice beads of sweat running down his forehead.
"Thanks for making it out all the way here," I say quietly, glancing at his family who are over by Mom.
"Hey, your dad was like a father to me, too. I wouldn't have dared to miss this."
I nod as a silence overcomes us.
"I heard about what happen with Lex after prom…Chloe filled me in," Pete comments.
"You're not here to say, 'I told you he was bad news,' are you?"
"Of course not. I'll save that for another day."
"Thanks, Pete. You know…for everything. I'm sure Dad thought of you as a son, too."
"That means a lot, Clark." Pete pauses. "Look…I'm going to be attending Met U next fall, so I might be around Smallville this summer. If you or your mom needs anything…"
"Thanks, Pete."
We hug again and Pete steps aside to give me some space. Not long after he is gone, Chloe shows up.
"Hey."
"Hey." We hug.
"Listen, Clark, if there's anything that I can do…"
"Thanks, Chloe." I nod at her and gets that I want to be left alone with my thoughts for a while. She leaves, too, going after Pete.
Deciding that I don't want to see anymore eyes filled with pity for me, I stalk off to a lone magnolia tree, its branches shading me from the sun.
After a couple of minutes, I feel someone sit next to me. I open my eyes and smile.
"Hey," Lana says. "I hope that you don't mind."
I shake my head. Slowly, Lana takes me in her arms and kisses me on the cheek. This is what I love about her. She always seems to know when I need space or when I need someone to comfort me like now. And, instead of feeling sorry for me, she understands my grief and helps me get through it.
"I'm so sorry," Lana says softly, stroking my hair.
"I miss him."
Lana pulls back and wipes away my tears. "That was a beautiful speech you gave. I'm sure that your dad is proud."
"Don't you mean that he 'would have been proud,' Lana?"
"No. I mean that he is proud. Just because he's not here physically, doesn't mean that he's truly gone. He's watching over you, Clark; just like my parents are over me."
I swallow and close my eyes, drawing her close to me.
Back at the house, long after everyone has left with the exception of Lana who is in the kitchen, cleaning up, I approach my mom. She's sitting at the table, a cup of tea next to her. I take a sit next to her, draping my suit over the chair.
"Mom?"
She doesn't reply right away. Instead she stares into her cup, as if trying to remember something long forgotten.
Over in the kitchen, I can hear the familiar clanking and clinking of dishes being washed.
"I miss him."
I swallow the lump growing in my throat. "I miss him, too, Mom."
She sighs. "It just isn't fair, is it?"
"No, it's not." I take her hand and sit with her in silence, mourning the death of a man who didn't deserve to die.