Chapter Text
“I just want to do something useful with my life!”
“So farming, feeding people, that’s not… that’s not useful?”
“I didn’t say that.”
The truck rolled along the road. He could see the cornfields stretch on forever, could smell the dirt that lingered in the air. Clark sighed, and ran his hand through his hair.
“Dad--”
“Our family’s been farming for five generations, Clark…”
“Ugh… your family, not mine.” he shook his head exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why I'm still listening to you, you’re not my dad, you’re just some guy who found me in a field.”
“Clark!”
Clark gave his Ma an apologetic look and turned towards the window to look away from Jonathan. Why was he always like this…he was twenty three for Christ's sake…definitely old enough to make his own decisions.
“It’s all right Martha, he’s right, Clark has a point…we’re not your parents. But we’ve been doing the best we can, and we’ve been making this up as we go along…and maybe..our best isn't good enough anymore…”
“Dad…I…” Clark felt the words die in his mouth. Nothing he could say would make this situation any better.
The rest of the car ride was spent in silence. The old truck swayed as they drove over what Clark felt was every pothole in Kansas. Clouds lazily made their way across the sky and thunderheads dotted the horizon. He could hear Hank panting in the back with Ma, itching to get out and run. He wished he could just run…
---
The storm that came at night was a monster. The thunder shook the walls and rattled windows, the rain came down in buckets. Clark curled up under his blankets and tried to sleep, but he kept thinking about Ms. Rampling. An older woman, who didn’t seem like she enjoyed teaching students, but couldn’t figure out what else to do.
She had taught them all about brood parasitism in science class, about how cowbirds would leave their eggs in another bird's nest and that baby would slowly starve out the others…how they would come at night and teach them how to be a proper cowbird. But no other aliens ever came back…
Was that him with the people of earth? Would he eclipse them and then take over? Would his people come back and turn him against them like some sort of sleeper agent…
What kind of an alien was he? He didn’t have feelers…or claws…or anything else that would be noticeable. Maybe he was like the alien from The Thing… just pretending to be a person…but ready to strike at any moment?
Clark tossed and turned for what felt like hours…he could hear Ma and Pa asleep in their beds, not giving the storm any mind. But Clark couldn’t get his brain to turn off. He threw off the covers and tip-toed down the stairs and out of the house.
The sky flashed above, long veins of lightning reaching towards the ground. The thunder that followed made his ears ring and he could feel the shockwaves distort the air. It was like the sky held its own anger, bursting at the seams and desperate to be heard.
Who was he?
Why was he sent here?
Ma always told him he was special…that he was the best gift she had ever gotten. Clark always noticed how her eyes would crinkle when she would watch him doing the daily chores, like every move he made was the most magnificent sight.
Pa was a different story. Whenever something would happen that could be seen as “odd,” he would purse his lips and shoot a warning look in his direction. Clark loved his Pa, loved him like he loved the earth. But he could tell that deep down…Pa wished he was normal. Wished he could play football…wished that they didn’t have to live in fear.
Clark sighed…
Everything was going to change.
He knew how it was going to go down. Ma would cry…she’d try to hide it from him..tell him she was happy and that she’d hoped he’d visit. Pa would argue…tell him that he was needed on the farm…that someone would see him and he’d be taken away. But what could they do? Nothing on Earth could truly stop him…if he wanted to go he’d go.
He held the thin chunk of metal that Pa had given him.
Not of this earth… the answer to are we alone in the universe…
Clark turned to walk back inside…mud squelched in between his toes. The smell of rain hung in the air, clouds swept east across the sky. And on the horizon, He could see the first rays of light touch the heavens.
“I hope you aren’t planning on walking into the house with those feet.” Jonathan Kent was standing on the sun worn porch, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands.
“Sorry Pa…I’ll wash em off.”
Jonathan sat down and motioned with a nod of his head for Clark to take a seat. They could hear Martha in the kitchen moving pots and pans around. He took the offered coffee, shifted Ma’s rainboots over and plopped down on the steps. They sat in silence…neither one ready to start the argument that was bound to happen.
“Big storm last night…”
“Yep.”
They watched a cottontail hop across the driveway and settle itself in a patch of clover. Hank barked from behind the screen door. The sun was past the horizon now, cirrus clouds streaked across the endless blue sky.
“I’m sorry Clark.” Jonathan sighed.
“Pa..”
Jonathan waved his hand dismissively. “Let me finish — I — I had a talk with your Ma…It was wrong of me to expect you to stay here on the farm.” He took another sip of coffee and continued. “It’s not fair to you…I think I knew deep down that one day you were gonna leave. Go out and save people… I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do… your Ma and I will be here for you.”
Clark hung his head, he could feel his eyes burn. “Thanks Pa…”
“Just…when you go, don’t forget about us…don’t forget the people who matter…you’ll do great things…I — I guess it was too big for me…”
Jonathan stood up and patted Clark on the back. “Make sure you wash those feet off before you come in.”
Clark smiled and walked off towards the hose.
The sun seemed to shine a little brighter. The birds sang from the trees, the bugs flitted by, and Clark could see everything. Could hear everything. Felt Everything.
---
The days passed with an unnatural calm.
Clark knew the time to leave the nest was close. He felt it like a static under his skin, setting his nerves alight.
Martha also sensed that something big was going to happen. She churned out pie after pie, meal after favorite meal, hoping that it would keep him in the farmhouse for yet another day.
But Clark had been overcome with a sort of restlessness that he'd never felt before.
He had to go.
The world was so big.
If he could even find a hint of who he was, or what he was… even if it took him forever…he had to know.
He owed it to himself to try.