Chapter Seventeen
"Don't be such a frightened lil' lass!" Victoria admonished Clark with a giggle. The Sikorsky flight going back to Smallville was just as fun for Clark as it was to Metropolis. Clark gave her a weak smile and was quiet the whole flight. Lex and Victoria talked with Pete about differences between Metropolis and London.
The teens stood by Lex's black Mercedes-Benz S500 (license plate read: 1 LEX 1) when Lex ushered Victoria into the mansion. She kissed him and told him that she was going to get ready to go to the carnival. Lex returned to the teens with a small leather bag and drove within the posted speed limits to Pete Ross's house.
"Ok, Bro," Pete said from the back seat, patting Clark's shoulder when Lex pulled up to his house. Pete got out of the fine ride, shut the rear passenger door, and looked into the window. "I'll see you at the Carnival."
"'Aight," Clark said. "Say 'hi' to Momma."
"You knows it," Pete smiled; Mrs. Ross was Clark's mom like Mrs. Kent was to him. "Thanks, Lex," Pete said after he went around the Mercedes and stuck out his hand. Lex was totally caught off-guard. But he shook Pete's hand. Clark smiled; 'Maybe, there's hope,' he thought. Lex drove the short distance to Clark's house fast.
"Is this a new car?" Clark wondered and rubbed the leather dash. Lex had a veritable fleet of cars, and sometimes Lex allowed Clark to drive them; Clark didn't remember this particular car.
"Yes," Lex said, up shifted the gears out of a turn. "I didn't want to make Pete cram himself into the back like he did with the Boxster."
"What ever happened to the Carrera?" Clark asked and watched Lex turn the steering wheel, aiming the car onto the dirt path to Clark's house. The Carrera was the Porsche Lex wrecked. "Couldn't salvage it?" Clark wondered; secretly he wouldn't mind buying it from Lex and working on it until it ran again.
"It's gone," Lex said simply. He drove down the road fast, not caring about the little rocks pinging against the paintjob on the car. "Why keep it? It was junk, and nothing good could come from it." Lex gave Clark an odd smile, and Lex wondered if his words would be proven wrong.
"Oh," Clark said, a little crestfallen. Lex slowed the car down when he saw Clark's father, Jonathan, come out of the barn. Jonathan waved them over. "Clark, in the leather bag I brought along, there are some plastic bags from Fordman's. Put your clothes in them."
Clark did what Lex told him. Lex pulled the car next to Jonathan.
"Hi, Mr. Kent," Lex said. Clark hopped out of the car and winced when he saw his father's reaction to the bags and boxes that he had in his hands.
"Clark," Jonathan said, "when you are done putting away your 'shirt', help me with the tractor in the barn."
"Bye Lex," Clark said with an uneasy face and ran a little too fast for Jonathan's liking into the house.
"Mr. Kent," Lex said, smiling and taking off his sunglasses, "I hope you don't mind me buying Clark more than a shirt. Apparently, he says some of his clothes seem to be missing."
"What do I owe you for the extra clothing, Lex?" Jonathan said and took out his well-worn wallet.
"Nothing," Lex smiled; he doubted that Jonathan had the amount he spent in his bank account. "It's my way of helping Clark with the date."
"Seems an awful lot of help for a date," Jonathan said and slipped the wallet back in the back pocket. He rubbed his hands on his jeans.
"Clark wants tonight to be memorable for Chloe," Lex said, wondering if he was telling him information Clark hadn't yet, "and I want it to be for him."
"Thank you, Lex," Jonathan said.
"He has great friends in Chloe and Peter," Lex said, looking at the house. "He's friends with you and Mrs. Kent…" He turned to Jonathan. "In the first time in years, I can say I have a friend, someone nice to me with no ulterior motive, no agenda, and no nefarious plan. That friend is Clark."
Jonathan looked at Lex, and believed him.
"I have to see to my guest at the mansion," Lex said, turning the key in the ignition switch. The car's engine came alive. "Good bye, Mr. Kent."
Jonathan waved his good bye. When Lex was safely down the dirt path, he called out his son's name.
Inside his room, Clark smiled. He heard what Lex had said. He hoped that people would give Lex a break; he really wasn't a bad guy, just needed a friend. And he was glad that Lex considered him one. Clark noticed all the clothes he had left out earlier were gone; 'Moms probably put them away,' he thought. He heard Lex's car's engine fade in the distance, set the bags on his bed, and supersped back out to the barn. Martha Kent instituted her Mother's Prerogative to snoop in her boy's room; she wanted to see the shirt that Clark bought. She was surprised to see the bags and the boot box. She peeked in a bag.
"Wanted me, Dad?" Clark said when he appeared next to his father. Jonathan jumped a bit; his son looked normal (well, as normal as a 14 year old could be with a chiseled body), but the powers and abilities that were far beyond normal men that Clark possessed made Jonathan slightly envious.
"Yes, Son," He said and walked to the back of the barn. Clark followed dutifully. "Daisy broke down just over the rise," He said and pointed in the general direction of his beloved old tractor. "Do you think you could..."
Clark smiled. He zipped over and returned with the red John Deere 1946 Model B tractor held high above his head easily, like he would if his dad asked him to get mail from the mailbox. Jonathan opened the barn doors and Clark walked inside with the tractor. He set it down.
"Son," Jonathan said, working on the engine. "I worry that you may be swayed by Lex's gifts to let him know about your abilities."
"Dad," Clark said, leaning back on a wood rail, "you heard Lex. He has good intentions."
"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'," Jonathan said. He closed his eyes. It came out too bitterly. He heard his son's sigh.
"I wish I could tell Pete," Clark grumbled. "Or Chloe."
"Clark", Jonathan said, and held his son's muscular shoulder. "You need to wait."
"Wait? I am waiting," Clark quickly snapped. "I wait for Pete to bust out on me that I've been lying to him or Chloe to say 'I know your secret'."
"Son," Jonathan, turned and saw his son fuming. "Do you think they are ready to know?"
"Maybe not now," Clark said honestly. "Well, Chloe maybe. She might find out on her own." Jonathan nodded; Chloe was sharp, almost too sharp, much like Martha. He smiled. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree, no matter if it came from another planet. "I'd rather tell her," Clark said, looking into his father's eyes, "and not deceive her or Pete anymore. Living with my abilities and keeping them a secret is like you lifting that tractor."
"Impossible," Jonathan said.
"Exactly Dad," Clark said. "Add to that all the time Chloe and I spend together now..."
"You really like her, huh?" Jonathan asked, already knowing the answer. Clark's quick smile and head dip cemented it.
"A lot," Clark said. He looked up. "I think...I love her, Dad."
"I have an idea," Jonathan smiled to his love-struck son, "tell Chloe and Pete when you have a fuller grasp of your abilities."
"Thanks, Dad," Clark smiled.
"You better get going," Jonathan said kneeling by the engine again. "Don't wanna be late for your date." He saw his son disappear, heard a whoosh and laughed.
Martha was placing a tray of biscuits into the oven for dinner when she felt the whoosh whip through her kitchen. Clark had power-consumed the 4 sandwiches he made and washed it all down with milk he drank straight from the bottle; it was really his only vice. She made a face when she saw that the jars of peanut butter and jelly, bread, and the previously full-but-now nearly empty bottle of milk on the formerly clean countertop. She shook her head at her son's banzai sandwich making. She looked at the clock and realized he was in a hurry for a reason; the date was less than an hour away.
Clark stopped racing when he stepped into the bathroom. He yanked off his flannel, and pulled off his shirt, balled them up and tossed them into the hamper. Carefully leaning against the sink, Clark removed each boot and sock, flinging the socks in the hamper. 'He shoots, he scores', he thought and smiled. He unbuttoned his Levi's and slid them off, and his boxer briefs followed quickly.
Completely naked, Clark twisted the metal diverter on the faucet, turned on the cold water and watched the cold water spray from the showerhead. Clark stepped into the old fashioned tub and pulled the white plastic liner around so water wouldn't splash onto the tile.
The cold water hit his toned legs first and he stepped closer, the water nailing his defined abs and wide, muscled chest. Clark let the water cascade down his body, the coldness of it refreshing, invigorating. He moved under the spray, the water washing over his still boyish face, odd in comparison to his near-Adonis like body. He tilted his head side to side, letting the cold water soak his hair. With his body slick from the icy water, he grabbed his "No More Tears" brand shampoo (he liked the scent...it reminded him of Chloe somehow) and squirted some onto his palm. He set the bottle back and worked the shampoo into the incredibly strong hair fibers on his head.
Clark rinsed his hair, grabbed the wash rag and put some soft soap on it. With his back to the spray, he slowly washed his hands and arms, working the rag over his plump biceps, and into his armpits, the foamy lather white on the hairs there; aside from the sparse hairs in his pits and on his legs and full head of hair, Clark was essentially hairless. Pete told him maybe some aspects of puberty hit slower than others, not to worry.
After lathering his chest, each pectoral slab, Clark slid the rag onto the six pack that was his abdominals, rubbing, lathering. Clark tried not to think of Chloe when he washed lower. But, it didn't work. Shortly after Chloe moved to town, Clark's showers always included mental images of Chloe and always included a little physical ritual.
"Clark!" Martha yelled through the door. "You've been in there for a really long time now! Your father needs to use the bathroom!" Martha heard rythmic water splashing and shrugged at Jonathan. He ran outside to relieve himself. She tried a different tactic knowing her son was such a big slow-poke. "Your date is in 20 minutes! Come on! Move it!"
"OK Mom!" Clark groaned. "I'm coming!"
He finished up, and ended his shower. Using his superspeed, he dried his body, brushed his teeth and applied deodorant. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went into his bedroom. His mom sat on the bed with the clothes he laid out.
"You got more than a shirt," She said quietly, "and these are NOT from Fordman's."
"Mom... Lex...," Clark stammered. "Pete...We..."
"Honey," Martha smiled, "I know this is a big night for you."
"It's huge, Mom," Clark said, a bit more relaxed after he saw her smile.
"I'll make Lex some pies as a thank you, and I'll make sure your father doesn't find out you're wearing at least two months worth of the livestock food bill on your back tonight," She smiled sweetly.
"Thanks, Mom," Clark said. "You're the best."
"I know," she laughed. "And I'm happy that you take after me."
She left Clark to dress, and 2 seconds later, he was dressed and running to Chloe's house.