I own none of these characters save for the unnamed secret service agents.
This is for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained.
Clark looked up at him nearly as shocked by this as the other revelation. "You're running from the law?"
Moe nodded no longer meeting his eye, but looking at his own hand. "Perhaps if I was facing the American justice system a human citizen would, I'd stop, but I fear my fate would be far, far worse." He looked back up to meet the boy's gaze. "As would yours Clark."
The boy's eyes went wide. "Mine?" Why?"
The man or ... Martian didn't stop gravely meeting his gaze. "You are not human either."
Clark's brows furrowed. "Yes, I am."
"No, Clark. You are not."
Clark folded his arms. "Prove it."
"The Martian hadn't lowered his hand back to his side, continuing to hold it out instead. Now, it shrank. The skin changed growing paler. Clark's face blanched as he realized it was ... his ... He even looked down at his own to make sure it was still there.
Moe spoke again. "As a Martian, I can reform my own body, or parts of it, to become like those of others. I sensed right away you ... were not human. My flesh has to change in ways to become like yours different than it would to become like that of a human boy your age. Also, Clark Kent, you are sweating, tiring, and eating far less than a human your age should be. You and your parents told me of how they found you with nothing of your own in the flatbed of their truck. I can only guess of how you got there, as they do, but I know you are neither human nor Martian. You are something else."
Clark looked away. His life before his parents found him naked and cold in their pickup truck bed being a mystery, and his lack of sweating and eating for a boy his age "were" true. He'd seen how friends his age ate more than him. He just ... especially on sunny days ... didn't feel that hungry. He felt better, not hot, sticky, and tired under a bright sun. Maybe Moe was right? It ... "could" be true. He looked back up to meet the Martian's gaze. "What should I do?"
Moe shook his head. "Tell no one, and especially, no matter what you become capable of, harm no one, at least not permanently. The laws may not protect you as they don't me. You have many people including your parents who love you now. You have also been, as many here call you, 'a good kid,' so far. I don't know how they'd react if they learned you are not like them in some ways. If you used those differences they don't understand to hurt them, or another human, or perhaps even another non-human, they could become rightly afraid. And I don't want you to live as I do Clark."
Clark looked up from the tops of his tennis shoes and into the Martian's eyes. "Is ... is the government coming for you?"
Moe sighed. "Yes."
Clark began to rub his arm. "I'm ... s ... sorry."
Moe shrugged. "'I' am sorry. I did not want to lay this on you. But I also thought I should warn you, as it seemed you did not already know. It is important you know, and are careful Clark."
Clark blinked, but didn't speak. Somehow, it was easier to feel sorry for Moe, to think of him wandering the earth alone hiding from the government: a man or ... something else ... a person he thought was nice ... doing that ... was sad. It was much harder, impossible ... to think of ... he himself ... doing that!
His ma came out of the house. She stopped to stand beside the kneeling man ... Martian. She held a brown sack out toward ... Moe. The smells of meatloaf, mustard and fresh bread came from it. "Here you go Moses."
Clark's ma's voice helped thaw his thoughts, a little, from their previously frozen state. He blinked. Then he looked to her and then to the Martian again. A wave of sadness seemed to come up from his stomach and engulf his heart. This was all real. They were really saying goodbye, and Moe was an alien running from the law. And he ... he was an alien too? Poor Moe. Poor him? Poor ... everybody?
Moe stood up to his full height making Ma Kent seem shorter than usual. Clark could only blink up at the sad face still studying him wondering if this really was Moe's full height, or if he was usually, naturally, really, shorter or even taller. Either way, the man he'd thought he'd known, who wasn't even a man, took the sack from his ma saying, "Thank you Ma'am" like he "was" just the human farmhand Clark had thought him this whole time.
Pa Kent stepped up beside Clark's ma eyeing first his quitting farmhand up and down, before turning his stern gaze on Clark. Clark could only blink back at his pa. Finally, he looked from his pa back to Moe. Pa Kent turned his gaze back to the "Cowherd" as well. "I could give ya a ride into town and get ya that missing pay."
Moe shook his head. "No ... I'd best be going on my own."
Ma Kent spoke up her voice rising. "On 'foot?!'"
"Part of the way. Goodbye Kents. Take care. All of you. I hope things go well, for your family, livestock, and farm." He then turned a slightly longer stare on the boy still staring speechless up at him. "Clark. You especially take care."
Then he turned and strode away. Clark stared after him rubbing his own left arm. Both his parents kept looking from him to Moe slowly disappearing first down their driveway then the road till they lost sight of him behind some still standing rows of corn.
About half an hour later, black sedans pulled up into the Kent's yard. Men and women in suits got out of these strange simple, but expensive looking vehicles. Clark hid in the hayloft as his parents answered questions from these city folk ranging from strange to "really" strange. His ears heard a lot more than he wanted to. His hearing had been getting better of late.
The people in suits asked his parents about Moe. Then they asked about him. Pa called him down. He came down almost shaking and answered their questions too. Mostly the same ones he'd heard them ask his folks, which nearly made him sigh in relief. Nearly.
Had Moe said where he was going? Was he sure? How had he been acting before he left? Had he seen him do anything weird, unnatural?
Clark was quiet a moment. The man in sunglasses and a suit asked him this last question again with a bit of a snarl in his voice. Odd how this human in a suit and hat, with his face creasing up behind his sunglasses, reminded him of Mr. Greeley's snapping growling hound dog.
Clark felt like he was betraying a friend if he answered truthfully. But Pa had told him to respect grownups and be truthful, and especially to respect the law. "Yes."
"What?"
"He ... he changed his hand."
"How."
"He ... he made it different, green, shinier ... different looking. And ... and then he made it look like mine."
The man's brows rose above the edge of his sunglasses. "When?"
"Before he left."
"How soon?"
"About right before ma gave him some lunch to take with him."
"Do you know why?"
"I think ... he was telling me why he had to leave."
The man frowned deeper, but then ... he stood up and walked away. Clark felt his shoulders fall and lungs exhale. He nearly bent double over his waist before sitting down in some straw.
Later, when he could think straighter and his heart slowed down, Clark thought to himself, it had seemed like the timing of what Moe did, not what he did, had surprised the man behind the sunglasses most."
After taking some things Moe had been around, testing the animals he'd taken care of in strange ways, and giving his parents a phone number to call if Moe came back, contacted them, or something really strange happened, the people in suits, hats, and sunglasses left. About half an hour after they did, Clark picked at a dinner of leftovers while sitting at the kitchen table with his folks and no Moe.
His parents looked at each other across the kitchen table. Then Pa asked, "Clark, what did that man ask you?"
"About Moe."
"What in particular?"
"When he left. If he said where he was going. If he did anything weird."
Ma sniffed. "And what did you say to that?"
"I said he did."
Ma and Pa sat a little straighter staring at him. Then they stiffened as pa asked, "What did Moe say to you before he left Clark?"
"He said he was an alien ..."
Ma began to laugh, but Clark raised his head and gave her a sad stare stopping her cold. Her mouth stayed wide open, but her eyes widened even more fully open. Pa whispered, "Do you mean 'from another country,' Clark?"
"No. He said he was from Mars."
Ma's mouth shut with a click, but she squinted at him maybe watching for him to break and laugh, but that was about the last thing Clark felt like doing. Pa put an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. "Why would he tell you that?"
Clark paled. Pa blinked at him. "Clark, did he hurt or scare you?"
Clark shrugged. "Scared me kinda. But I don't think he 'wanted' to."
"Did he tell you not to tell the people who came here today something?"
Clark thought a moment and opened his eyes a little wider. With everything Moe "had" said, he'd never told him to "not" tell on him, only to not tell on himself. "Kinda ..."
"Clark. Did he or didn't he?"
"He ..." Clark felt jaw trembling. He set both his arms flat on the table and let his face fall into them.
He heard his ma's chair squeak back on the linoleum floor. "Clark!"
She knelt next to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Clark began to sob. He didn't know what to do! He hated the thought of his parents not loving him, thinking him ... alien. He hated the thought of the government chasing him like they were Moe! But he also hated the thought of keeping such a big secret from his parents, or the government, or anyone. He'd never been taught how to keep secrets! His folks didn't even tell him when they got each other gifts! Oh, why couldn't Moe have taught him how to keep secrets, sometime during his stay, instead of first keeping his own to himself and then walking right off right after telling him to keep these!"
Clark growled in frustration. He felt his pa's heavy hand land on his other shoulder. "Clark, did Moe tell ya he might die or be kept in prison?"
Clark paused thinking back on the rather sad and weighty words of the Martian. "Sorta."
"Is that what's troubling you?"
Clark's heart about stopped as he realized he'd been more selfish than that. "No ... No, not really."
His ma spoke up from the other side of him. "Then what is it Clark?"
"He ... he said ... I'm an alien." Later Clark would realize how dangerous him saying this aloud had been right after a visit from alien-hunters from the government. He'd also wonder if he and his folks had seemed so honest to the men in suits, and they had been in such a hurry to chase after the Martian who'd already left their farm, that they'd gone without bothering to set up any bugs. Even after scanning the house and other buildings with his x-ray vision long after, Clark never found even the old broken remains of such devices. He also never remembered seeing the visitors in suits trying to set up any. It was a startling blessing after he thought about it and checked. During that dinner, right after their visit, though, he'd been far more worried about his parents reactions to what Moe had told him.
They looked at each other over Clark's head. He could feel their shared stare above him getting tense. He stiffened. Pa then looked down at him. "You're sure he said that about you Son?"
Clark nodded, feeling slightly better hearing "Son" from his pa's lips. Then he heard his ma whisper, "And to 'think' those men were just here!"
He felt his pa's warm calloused hand cup his chin and raise it, so he'd look him in the eye. His pa's face was scrunched up, but his eyes were more piercing than fiery like when he was "really" mad. Clark's bunched muscles loosened a bit. They bunched up a little again though, as his pa spoke in a deep firm tone. "Did he tell you you were Martian too Clark?"
Clark shook his head a little, the movement was a bit restricted by his pa's grip on his chin. "I don't think he 'knew' what I was. He said I wasn't human, something different."
He saw his pa look over his head at his ma and then back to him. "What else did he say?"
"That ... he once hurt someone ... with his ... martian abilities ... and I shouldn't tell anyone about not being human and especially not hurt anyone ... cause ... the law might not protect me ... and I was ... loved or liked a lot around here. He didn't want me to have to run away from here and the law too ..." He thought that about summed it up. That had been what was playing in his mind since Moe left.
His pa straightened up releasing his chin. Clark took the opportunity to look down at the floor. He heard his pa's voice quieter and milder saying "Good advice really ..."
He raised his eyes to his pa again seeing him holding his own chin while also seeming to study their kitchen's white and green tiles. His ma's louder voice from his other side grabbed his attention though. "But, Johnathan, what do we do?"
Clark froze up again and looked to his pa. His pa looked over his head to meet his ma's gaze. "Do? Nothing. We do nothing!" He looked down at Clark again. "Did you tell them any lies Clark, the men who were here?"
Clark shook his head. "No, Pa!"
"Did they ask anything about you?"
Clark shook his head. He thought he saw his pa's chest sink as he released a lot of breath of his own. He even got a whiff of supper off his pa's breath "Okay then. You didn't lie. You haven't really done anything wrong. Hopefully, there's no law against being an alien from outer space instead of the human we always thought you were. We adopted you legally. That makes you an American citizen. Do as Moe said. Keep yourself from breaking any law, especially from hurting anybody, and ... and hopefully this won't have to come up with the government, or anyone else."
Clark heard his ma speak over his head. "But John, what if ... 'Someone' dropped him off in the back of our truck!"
Clark's muscles bunched up again upon hearing this. His mother's further words assured him ... in a way, but shook him in another. "Someone out there ... even 'way' out there knows about him!" She raised her arm and swung it out at ... everything, the universe perhaps. "What if someone 'out there' comes back for him?!"
Pa sighed. "We'll worry about that if that day comes."
Clark blinked. In that case, which he hadn't even thought of yet, what would he do? Stay here, where he was relieved to know he was still wanted? Would he owe anything to alien blood-relatives, though, to his own ... birth parents ... birth alien parents? His head began to go fuzzy. He froze up again.
His mother shook the shoulder she still held a little. "Clark?" He looked up into her pinched face as she spoke. "You know we love you right?"
He nodded. He did now. He just ... now had a lot of other things to worry about. That didn't change after he walked away from the table and up to first the bathroom and then his room. He barely remembered to put on his pajamas before crawling into bed under the quilt and sheets. He could still hear his parents talking in their room downstairs. His mother's voice was particularly high and loud.
"But Johnathan! What is a flying saucer just shows up someday or night and takes him?!
"They must have left him here for a reason Martha."
"But we don't know what that is! How would we stop them if they came back? How would anyone stop aliens from taking our boy? I ... I kept going back and forth about whether or not I really wanted to find out the answers of how he ended up with us before! I've always been afraid of losing him if whoever left him with us or had him before found out he was here and came back for him! But now! At least before now, I thought a legal adoption, after waiting for years to get it, would mean something! We have people on our side here in this county! We could even go to court if blood-family staked a claim on him! But aliens Johnathan! They wouldn't care would they?! They wouldn't have to!"
"We'll see what happens Martha. Worrying about things that haven't happened yet and we can't prepare for is a waste of energy."
"And what if Moe had never even shown up here? We would never have known. Johnathan ... What if he gets sick? What if we can't take care of him?!"
"He's not sick now. In fact, he's been healthier than ever recently."
"He doesn't tan anymore ... He never sweats!"
"Like I said: healthy."
"If he stops being so though ... how will we know why? How will we help him? Can we even take him to a doctor anymore? It seems like a doctor especially might notice he's different: not human!"
He heard his pa sigh. "Martha ... worrying will do us no good."
Then he heard her sigh. "I know ... Johnathan ... I know ... it's just ... I like to get ahead of things ... you know?"
"I know ... but there is no getting ahead of 'some' things ..."
He heard his ma cry and his pa comfort her. Guilt pained him for being the reason for his ma's sobs. He tried to climb quietly out his window and perch on the roof looking at the stars. Then he realized one of them might be where he came from, and looked down at where he wanted to be from: earth. All around him was his pa's land, where he belonged ... didn't he?
What do you think now?
God bless
ScribeofHeroes
