October 1989

"Jonathan! The Scotts!

As our truck sped past the Scott's farm, I watched, wide-eyed, shocked to see their land and property destroyed. Horses ran where they wanted. Giant Meteors from space were scattered over the land. Their home, destroyed.

A little hand goes up on the window in front of me. The little boy, now dressed in a big plaid shirt looks out intently at the destruction. He takes his hand away. But it left a mark on the window. I raise my hand and wipe it off, but my hand jerks back. I gasp.

"What?"

I look at Jonathan with my mouth open, and then back at my finger tips. The window was cold to the touch. So very cold. Silently I looked at the boy, who continued to gaze out at the ruined land, blazing with fire and smoke. I'm not sure if I really saw what I thought I saw in his eyes, but there was fear, and a sorrow there I would never expect to see from one so young.

We didn't stop at the Scotts farm, but continued past toward the center of town, main street. The black billowing smoke was visible from our farm. The Kent farm had miraculously been saved, as well as the Lang's home.

But most of our hometown had not been so lucky. As soon as it had come, this fire from the sky, it vanished in a violent explosion of insanity. Leaving Smallville in utter chaos, and devastation.

We had only spent one hour at home, huddled in the storm cellar, waiting for the danger to pass.

I had brought this strange little boy who had so suddenly captured my heart inside our home and draped him in one of Jonathan's blue plaid shirts. He made no noise but slyly smiled at me. I lifted him up on the kitchen counter, and buttoned his shirt. I rubbed my hand over the top of his fuzzy head, his hair felt exotic, softer than any hair I'd ever felt, not quite normal.

"Where could you have come from? Hmm, little guy?"

Where did this little angel come from? I didn't know, and I wasn't sure if I cared. All I knew was that he was mine, and no one was coming looking for him. He was an answer to my prayers. I had prayed for so long and for so hard, ever since we had been told I would never have an angel of my own.

It was dangerous driving in town, many times we had to avoid overturned vehicles, and large pieces of debris. Not to mention the electric cables hanging down to leave sparks on the asphalt.

"Jonathan, stop! Look, it's Nell!"

Immediately Jonathan pulled over, and jumped out. Quickly, I and the little boy followed. Nell appeared to be hyperventilating, wide eyed and in shock. She was dirty, and perhaps injured. So were the other dozens of people who were running around the streets.

Nell didn't even seem to acknowledge the little girl dressed in a pink fairy costume in her arms, with a red face, streaked with dirt and tears. A man with a camera ran up and snapped a picture of Lana and then ran away.

"Hey!" Jonathan yelled after the man, but he paid no heed. We rushed over to Nell and Lana. I brought a blanket from the farm, and draped it over Nell's shoulders.

"Nell? Nell? Are you hurt?" Jonathan asked her.

"Lana, oh, Lana, come her, my sweet." I picked the sobbing little girl out of Nell's arms and cuddled her within my own. The little boy watched us, absorbing every bit of information he could.

Lana screamed, but quieted down and was comforted in my arms. Soon her wails became soft weeping noises as she rested her head against my blouse. Had this been the child who only hours before had the happiest smile on her face, waving her wand, granting wishes? Wishes. I had wished for...I turned to look at the little boy who reached up to me.
I knelt down and wiped the smudges off of Lana's face. The little boy placed his hand on Lana's head, and another hand on her face. She didn't jerk back or cringe like I thought she would, but instead let out a deep sigh and looked back at my boy.

"Nell, do you know where Lewis and Laura are?"

"They...they...Oh!" Nell began to sob as she gestured behind us. We turned and I started shaking so much, I feared I would drop Lana.

It took me a few moments, amongst the screams of the townsfolk to realize just what I was seeing. But I didn't want to see it. I covered Lana's eyes, although she had already witnessed the horrific accident. I closed my own, as tears fought their way past my eyelids.

"Oh my" I managed to sob in a strange high pitched, strained voice. I placed Lana down, who began to cry again, as I sought to control myself. I kneeled in the debris of the street as I heaved in shock and grief. I saw Jonathan out of the corner of my eye, slightly shivering, unsure of what to make of all this destruction. Nell was still holding herself, sobbing against the wall of her flower shop.

But the boy, my curiosity got the best of me, and my crying slowly ceased as I watched the tiny boy begin standing, absorbing everything that was going on around him. Eventually his eyes came to rest on me, and the little girl next to me. He reached out his hand and bent his small pudgy fingers back and forth, as though motioning for me to come forward. He smiled slightly.

I was utterly confused. I'm not sure I could understand anything in my present condition. He began to walk forward. He took Lana's hand and helped her to her feet. She wiped her running nose on her puffy sleeves and looked up at the little boy. He gave her a smile, and then turned to me and motioned again. He began to walk away, holding Lana's hand, yet continued to turn around and motion me forward. I got up slowly and began to follow him.

We walked around a large pile of wood and other debris, and on the other side the little boy reached under a large piece of wood and looked at me. He let go of Lana's hand, and began to pull at the wood.

And then I heard a groan.

I gasped. Someone was under there! And they way they were buried they probably wouldn't have been found for days in this chaos, I didn't stop to think how he had found the person, I just accepted it. Quickly I rushed forward and began to help the little boy remove the planks, and scraps. I called Jonathan, and he rushed over. Soon we had uncovered a young woman. She was bleeding from her left leg, was covered in gray dust, and was coughing. She looked at us with gratefulness and thanked us. We got her to a temporary medical tent and went back out into the destruction.

There was no pausing now, only a few moments here and there to shed a tear or think a sad thought. Person after person we continued to find with the little boy's help. Most of the people we found owed their lives to him. Soon, more and more individuals had come to help, and with the rescuers aid, and ours, soon we were finding the last survivors and injured along the main streets of Smallville.

We got Nell to the tent as well, however Lana continued to stay with us, holding onto the little boy's hand the whole time. I watched them continually the whole day and on into the night, as I handed Lana a flashlight of her very own. His presence seemed to strengthen the little girl. I honestly don't think she would have survived this terrible ordeal if not for his hand to comfort her.

I watched as she taught him how to use certain tools, or toys they had found. She would pick something up and explain it to him, as though realizing, he didn't comprehend our culture. He would learn with earnest, his eyes shining. They didn't laugh, but they did smile that day. Lana gave him a run down of everything she could, guiding him, befriending him, forgetting her troubles with him by her side.