An Ordinary Day

The alarm clock rang at 6:45am.

"Morning, honey."

The shape under the covers stirred.

"Come on, you can't hide from the world. Up an at 'em!"

She strained to hear a barely intelligible mumble.

"You're going to be late to the gym and you know you're always cranky if you don't do your cardio." She grabbed the covers with both hands and yanked. "This is for your own good, Cl_. You'll thank me…"

***grumble***

"…eventually."

Cl_ shut his eyes tighter and buried his head under the pillow. "I'm skipping the gym today."

"Sure, Mr. Had-Two-Helpings-of-Rhubarb-Pie-Before-Supper. You'll be late for work."

"I'm a freelancer… I'm my own boss."

"So help me God, K_, I'm going to get a bucket and soak you with the coldest water you're ever felt."

Cl_ bolted upright. "I'm up! I'm up!"

His hair was a mess and his stubble was just the right amount of itchy, but L_s kissed him just fine. "Good." She walked to the door. "Don't forget that you're having lunch at your parents today. I have meetings all day, but I'll meet you guys for dinner. Don't forget to take K_a to her ballet lessons today and to pick up K_l's basketball glasses from the eye doctor."

She blew him a kiss from the door and left. He heard K_l and K_a shout "bye, Daddy!" from the front door before L_s took them to school.

Cl_ stood up from bed, a bit shakily. His knee was acting up again and he half walked, half limped to the bathroom. God, that slice of pie had wreaked havoc in his digestive system. His stomach felt tight and bloated at the same time. Go to the gym? Not today.

He ignored the mirror and headed straight to the shower, mentally going over his to-do list: the AC was wonky and it wheezed all night, which kept didn't let him sleep well. What else? The cat needed food (how much can a cat pack in every day?) and it was high time to clean the gutters and give the garage a good coat of paint. Mow the lawn? Cripes…shampoo got in his eyes and it stung like hell. He cupped his hands around his eyes and tried to wash them with the accumulated water, but it just stung worse.

He finished the shower, toweled himself dry and shaved in front of the mirror. His eyes were very, very red. He flinched from his reflection, as if it his eyesight burned.

He put on a comfortable pair of slacks, a M_ Monarchs baseball jersey and red crocs. He made himself some breakfast and went down to the basement, where he had staked out his writing den. It wasn't easy to have a place of your own when your 8 year old just wanted your computer to play Plushy Monsters and your 12 year old hijacked your LBox every day to play Murder One. It wasn't a game for kids…he had in fact written a few op pieces about the dangers of ultra-violent games on minors, but hey, how could he let his kid be the only one in school who hasn't played Murder?

He moved K_a's dolls from his keyboard…(God, she didn't take her cereal bowl to the kitchen last night and it was a gooey mess), turned on the computer and hammered away at the keyboard. He checked his email, goofed a bit on LexStayConnected checking his profile and sharing the latest cat picture with a goofy caption. Between rounds of FightingWords –quite the addicting app- and half an hour breaks filled with FailVideos, he managed to cobble together a few pieces for the paper.

He handled, proofed, approved and reviewed unbelievable amounts of information and content, like it was nothing, all in order to fact-check his articles. He yawned, stretched and was amazed that it was almost time for lunch. He emailed the stories to P_y and ran upstairs. He changed to a fancier shirt, grabbed his keys, wallet and ran out the front door. He'd be a few minutes late to pick up the kids, but that was a regular thing by now. Time just…flew by.

Traffic was heavy, but his trusty Mini weaved in and out of traffic and he made it to Shuster Academy barely a minute past the pick-up time. He joined the car queue, displayed the K_a & K_l K_ sign and picked them up a few minutes later.

"Howdy, kids. How was your day?"

"It was great, daddy." K_a's giddy voice filled the small car. "Gladys told us she has a new puppy and he's a firecracker."

"Really? That's great." Cl_ signaled to the left and drove towards New T_y. The trip took about 20 minutes, but he was glad he didn't have to fly all the way to Kansas just to have lunch with his folks. "What's his name? Kryp…"

"Dad, are we going to pick up my glasses today? Coach Siegel says that I need them if I'm going to start the game next week."

"Really? You made the team? That's great, K_l." The car slowed at the yellow light and stopped at the red. "Yep, they're ready. We're picking them up today."

"Great." K_l looked sheepish and his used his 'asking for permission' sing song voice. "Say, Daddy, you think that if I do my homework today early, I can squeeze a few games of Murder One?"

He pretended to think hard about it. "As long as your grades hold, you're fine. The first B I see and…"

"I know: the game is out like a light."

"Darn tooting."

Cl_'s eyes returned to the road and he saw he was driving down a big road, with no cars around him. It looked like there were miles and miles of road to go. He looked at the car's dashboard to check the time. "It's almost three. Shouldn't we be about to reach New T_y?"

He saw K_l's face on the rearview mirror; catching his you know nothing, Dad scowl. "We're here, Dad." He looked at the road and saw the big green sign "New T_y, Next Exit."

"I can't believe I almost missed that one…I had great eyesight when I was younger."

"You still do."

"No, I wear glasses now." He made to tap the side of the glasses, but his finger poked his eye.

"You're silly, Dad. You don't wear glasses."

"Ow!" He jabbed his eye good, and it stung just like when the shampoo got in his eyes. He looked at them using the car's rear-view mirror. They were not just red, but angry red.

He heard around him the massive blare of a truck. He looked around, trying to find where it was so he could maneuver away from him, but the road was completely empty. Even the New T_y exit was gone and up ahead he could see nothing but road. The klaxon kept honking, now joined by a siren.

Cl_'s foot eased on the gas and he gently turned to the shoulder.

"Dad, what's going on?" She looked around, getting panicky.

"I'm scared, daddy. What's happening?" He tried to hide it better, but he could see he was very upset.

Cl_ stopped the car, shut off the ignition and stared at his kids. They were perfect visions: K_l had his eyes, K_a had his mother's. K_l was not strong, but he'd look like he'd sack quarterbacks right around High School. K_a was sweet and mellow, with perfect teeth and an engaging smile. K_l had a mess of dark hair that hung over his forehead and over his ears.

The klaxon and the sirens roared to a deafening level as Cl_ hugged his kids. "K_l, I loved you from the day you were born and I would have loved to see you become the man you were meant to be." He kissed his head, but it felt strange. "K_a, you are every bit as lovely as your mother. I know you would have grown to be one hell of a take-no-nonsense woman."

He let them go. "But I don't think you're real."

His children…the love of his life, the reasons he lived for, the joys and tragedies of life, simply vanished before his very eyes.

Around him, the road broke apart, the skies turned dark and it seemed like the world started to fade away.

Cl_ K_ was surrounded by a swirling blackness, like tendrils, that tried to take hold of him. Valiantly, he fought them off. It was as if he was falling into a collapsing star, where gravity threatened to throw him into an impossibly big tornado, where he could see bits and pieces of his life..and a life that looked impossibly familiar and yet, it hurt to even think about it.

The tornado spun around him faster and faster until it collapsed in a bolt of thunder…

…followed by blinding lightning.

When he opened his eyes, he was floating high above the ground. He was looking at a massive landscape, all tall buildings, squat buildings, patios, pools, parks… he knew he should be feeling dizzy, being this high and with no visible means of support…but it just felt right.

He felt compelled to fly higher. He started to gain altitude and saw the landscape shrink under his feet. His… red-booted feet?

The higher he went, the better he saw the shrinking landscape. It seemed to be spelling something…

He flew higher and higher, until he could make out every letter. For some reason, it brought a tear to his eyes.

The message read:

"Your Name Is Clark Kent."