Chapter 9 [Kent Farm]
Lana brooded at the kitchen table. Warm steam wafted up from the warm mug. Coffee scented the air. Her nose twitched. She surveyed her surroundings. The furniture seemed the same. The plants hung from their usual places. Jonathan and Martha appeared the same as they had earlier.
Seemed and appeared being the operative words…..
Even if that was the case, Chaos had thrown the familiar surroundings for a loop. Suspicion had whispered to Instinct of deeper secrets. Still she hadn't imagined anything like this.
Miranda's father…no kidnapper…being a cross between some sort of samurai and sorcerer akin to Spenser's Archimago and swinging a mean magical sword of some kind.
Miranda's uncle redefined Lex's talent for understatement. He made Byron look normal. And worse, the Kents and her own parents had known about it? His "issues" definitely turned heads..
And then there was Clark….
She shook her head. She'd known Clark had buried something under that flannel and behind those blue eyes. She'd accepted Miranda despite not knowing about her past or family. She wanted to know the Secrets though. Like Pandora, she picked at the proverbial box's lock.
Now said container had snapped open. Truth melted away Illusion much as Sol dispelled the fog over the countryside.
Is it everyone? What can I believe? Did they actually lie to me? Did they just not know? She took another heavy draught of coffee. Is Clark a meteor freak or something else? Who or what is Mr. Dubois? How could he and Mr. Arighatto do what they did? What happened between them? How does Lex know about them? How much about the Kents is real? She rubbed her temples trying to assuage the pounding therein. She cast another glance across the room. She had so many questions. Still she wanted to allow Martha to tend to her sleeping husband as well.
Martha exhaled sharply. She set a damp rag across his head. Then her feet guided her back across the weathered oak more by muscle memory than by thought. She'd wanted Jonathan to go to the medical center. Given his expected reluctance, she'd wrapped his midsection and given him some tea to help him relax. Still Clark's disappearance petrified her. Somewhere out there, her special boy bled with a gashed arm. Arighatto's knowledge of their Secret sent chills up her spine. And then there was the mixed blessing represented by David Dubois…no…his alter ego… Memoria recalled his trauma from a generation earlier. Yet another of Lionel Luthor's tragedies.
Pandora it seemed had released Clark's secrets unbeknownst to the Kents. Arighatto, Phelan, Sasha Cohen, Pete and now Lana all knew.
The coffee pot's remaining warm nectar beckoned her closer. Its scent calmed her ever so slightly. Martha pressed toward it. Still Duty reminded her of the disoriented guest at their kitchen table. Her eyes met Lana's. "Would you like more?"
"Huh?" Although polite, the question jarred Lana out of her reverie. She sucked in a steadying breath. "Oh…umm…I'm okay for now. You need it more than I do right now." She bit her lip.
Martha poured herself the remaining coffee. Then she dumped the grounds and started another pot. "We all do, Lana. Just a minute." She picked up the phone and dialed it.
"Hi, Mrs. Kent? Is everything okay?" Pete answered. He looked at his watch. Now what's happened?
"We had something happen, Pete. Would you mind coming over? Clark's missing and I need your help," Martha requested. She bowed her head.
Pete? As in Pete Ross? He knows? Lana narrowed her eyes.
"Clark's missing?" Anxiety flared up along with a thousand other myriad emotions. "I'll be right there. Just got to leave a note for my Mom." He hung up and rushed for the table.
Martha disconnected the call. She exhaled a heavy breath. Her lips took a heavy sip from her mug. For years, she'd wondered how this particular conversation would start. As recently as the tornados, she'd danced around the edge of this particular point. Now the two women were at that point. "I appreciate your concern for us. We're concerned about you too. Are you all right?"
"To say I'm overwhelmed is an understatement." Lana frowned. "I have so many questions. First though, was that Pete Ross you just called?"
"Yes, Lana. Pete's known for a couple of months about Clark," Martha conceded. "And he found out pretty much the way you just did. That's why I called him. I might need both of you to help me get Mr. Kent to the medical center. You both might want to talk."
Resentment bubbled up inside of Lana. "Talk? Clark trusted him but not me?" She shook her head. "I guess I should've put the pieces together. After all of the miraculous rescues, I should've known. He found me buried. That Freon pipe looked wrenched and ripped apart after Sasha's bees swarmed in the Talon. And then there was how he got to me the night of the tornadoes." She gulped down her nerves. "I saw him with me in the funnel, Mrs. Kent. I know I did."
Martha glanced over toward Jonathan. Denial had a thousand lies prepared for such an occasion. Still she knew they'd do little good at that point. She nodded. "You did. Clark pulled you out of the funnel and brought you into the medical center." She sighed. "He wanted to tell you at that point."
"So why didn't he? Mrs. Kent, I can keep a secret! Don't you trust me? You know I'd protect Clark," Lana insisted.
"I know that. So does Mr. Kent. It's such a big secret, Lana. We've had so many close calls. Clark's been careless. So have we. Pete's a nervous wreck at times. That's why we're so guarded about Clark." Martha rubbed her forehead. "And now it seemed that others knew despite everything we did. I just wish I knew where Clark is."
Lana held her cell phone up. "Lex just told me. He tried to call you before. Apparently Mr. Dubois' wife is treating Clark somewhere back East. Hope Clark's okay." She shook her head. "Lex said Mr. Dubois had issues. I can't believe what we just saw."
"It's a long story, Lana. David spent a great deal of time out here when he was your age. His situation isn't that much different than Byron Moore's. In fact, you met him right after the meteor shower." Martha motioned toward the old couch. "Your Aunt Nell and you talked with him right over there. He was here for your parents' funeral." She exhaled a pained breath. "At least David will make sure Clark is safe."
"Make sure? Mrs. Kent, with due respect, he's not sane. How would he know? How does Lex know that Clark's safe?" Lana pressed. "I'm sorry. I just have so many questions."
"I understand. I'm sure he'll talk with you. At least you can ask his wife and him about your family. Hopefully he can come back here to visit. It's been so long," Martha offered.
"He'll be here next week." Lana pulled the folded paper from her pocket. "Lex got him and a friend of his to help with that poetry talk, Nyoki Tuishiama, I guess?"
Martha shook her head. "She's never been here. David had quite a poetic flare when he was younger. He actually held a reading at the Talon as part of the rededication proceedings."
"He did?" Lana filed that notion. "Miranda's so excited. I can't believe that he's her uncle."
Martha stared at her guest. "Miranda? Miranda Arighatto? She's David's niece?" That particular nugget struck a chord within her mind. She'd visited with the waitress on so many occasions in the Talon over the past two years. "Unbelievable."
"Yeah. I wonder how Miri will handle his dark side? She's wanted to know for so long about her family. And now this?" Lana gulped those questions down.
"They deserve to know," Martha replied. She saw the car lights come to a halt right outside. "Just a minute." She got up and walked to the door. Opening it, she saw Pete hustling up the walk. "Hi, Pete. Come in!"
"Sorry, Mrs. Kent. I got here as fast as I could." Pete huffed a couple of quick breaths. "Mr. Kent and you okay?"
"Mr. Kent's resting at the moment. I'm okay. Clark is being helped. And we need you to talk with someone…about Clark." Martha sucked in a breath.
"Talk with someone? You mean someone found out?" Pete rolled his eyes. "Man. I'm telling Clark to be careful. Just tell me it wasn't Lex or his father." Concern and Worry sent his mind spinning.
"It's me actually, Pete." Lana called from the table. "This is quite a surprise. Here we're all guessing. You know?"
Pete sighed. He couldn't believe that Clark had actually told Lana. He knew Clark had considered it at several points. "I know about what?"
"She saw Clark trying to save us," Martha explained. "He didn't have a choice."
"Trying?" Pete grimaced. He'd seen his best friend's strength and speed.
Lana nodded. "Miri's stepdad tried to kill us. And that was after I saw Clark floating in the Loft and fall through the barn floor, strike the concrete and get up like nothing happened. Every day stuff, you know?" She sipped on her coffee again. Sarcasm flavored her words.
"He can fly? That's a new one." Pete made a mental note about that discovery. "Mind if I get some coffee? I could really use some."
"Sure, Pete." Martha headed toward the cabinets by the stove.
"So Clark can fly, is just about invulnerable and is really fast. I'm presuming he's super strong too? Kind of saw his handiwork last year in the Talon," Lana presumed.
"Yeah he is." Pete looked to where Martha stood. He didn't know exactly how much to share with Lana to be honest. Much like someone before the Inquisition, he felt unnerved.
"I don't suppose he starts fires. Does he?" Lana asked.
Pete looked at Martha. He wasn't about to share that one especially given the uproar at that point.
"Clark has heat vision. He…had a few accidents. You saw three of them," Martha admitted.
"At school, the jail and the Talon." Lana winced. "You know how much damage he caused? How did he do that?"
"Clark's just Clark. It literally was something that happened. He started getting flushed. His eyes went red. Then fires broke out. After he figured it out, the accidents stopped," Pete deduced. He shrugged. "I guess it's all pheromones."
"Pheromones?" Lana coughed. "You might hormones? That's a new one. What got him stirred up like that?"
Pete rolled his eyes. He coughed. "It's not what. It's who." He looked to Martha and then back at her. "You. Okay? Clark literally has the hots for you."
"So I turn him into a fire starter?" Lana stared at the others. "I didn't do anything!"
"Clark's wanted to be with you since we were in Kindergarten, Lana. He's dealing with stuff. It's not like he wanted to burn things down. Kind of tough when you can't talk to anyone." Pete shrugged.
"Clark's never said anything before last year. Why not?" Lana asked.
"Long story. Just know he wanted that." Pete cleared his throat. "I'm glad you know. Least now I have someone to talk to. It's tough being the only one who knows at school."
"I can imagine. I'm trying to wrap my head around the whole thing." Lana sucked in another breath. "So it's okay if we talk?"
"Oh yeah. Just don't let Chloe or Lex know. It's kind of a big deal," Pete agreed.
Don't I know it? Lana sipped on her coffee some more.
That last statement seemed the biggest understatement of a night of such things….