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#18
JUN 07 |
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“Friday Night Lights”
The Kent Farm
Smallville, Kansas
A light growl rumbled like thunder in his throat in vocal protest to the glaring klaxon that blared from the white cubical digital clock that sat on the dresser next to the bed. His body twisted to face away from the alarm. Part of him hoped that ignoring the damning noise would be enough to let him grab a few more blessed moments of sleep.
He failed. Miserably.
His hand swung down on the clock and slammed on the snooze button, granting silence for nine short minutes. Ten minutes later the clock exploded in a spray of white plastic shrapnel and Connor’s arm snaked back under the blankets with a grunt of satisfaction.
Unfortunately life started outside despite Connor’s lack of involvement or interest. A diesel tractor coughed before roaring to life, creating more wretched noise than the ill-fated alarm clock minutes ago. A rooster crowed in response to the orange rays of the morning sun, that peaked through the seam in the curtains and shown annoyingly on his eyes.
He nestled deeper into the mattress and buried his face into a pillow. Life should not be allowed to begin at such an ungodly hour.
Then the inevitable happened. A pounding came from the door followed by a call he couldn’t as easily do away with. “Connor! It’s time to get up! Jonathan needs your help before you get ready for school!”
Martha continued her assault on the door. “I swear, you’re just as bad as Clark.”
The blankets flew off the bed and landed in a crumpled pile on the floor. “Okay, okay…I’m awake!”
As sudden as it started the pounding stopped and Martha moved away from the door.
Finally giving in to the new day Connor sat up and stretched. A finger pawed at the corner of his left eye as the steel tough nail tried to scrape out the eye-booger that had formed during his too few hours of sleep. It had been four weeks since his arrival at the Kent farm and this routine had barely changed.
The first rays of the new rising sun broke through the white cloud barrier that blanketed the Earth and shone down on the land like giant spotlights in the sky. The grass glistened with dew, coming alive as field animals made their way outside for the first time this day.
By the time Connor made it outside, Jonathan had already tilled half the farm to prepare the soil for the new crop of the season. Connor threw an arm in the air to wave at the man, who waved back, the sun reflecting off of Jonathan’s glasses. Inside the giant rust-colored barn, the red having dulled down over the years, a radio played a duet by Willy Nelson and Toby Keith. The song attacked his ear like the stench of fresh horseshit did his nose as he entered the barn.
Kon looked at the beasts and shook his head.
“‘Beer for my horses’ indeed,” he replied under his breath as he grabbed a shovel to get to work.
His mind ran on autopilot as he cleaned the barn, barely aware of anything around him. He found the minutes flew by quicker this way and he wasn’t about to argue the point with himself. The shovel fell against the wall, free from the teenager’s grasp and done with its task.
Stepping out of the barn, Connor drew in a deep breath, grateful to be away from shit and, even more so, some stupid song about Jesus and driving by Carrie Underwood. In front of him stood a pile of hay, delivered early this morning, stacked in rectangles five bails high. He grabbed the bottom of the pile with one hand and hefted it into the air, using his tactile-telekinesis to wrap around and hold it together.
“Connor!” Martha yelled out from the backdoor of the house. “It’s time to get ready for school!”
“Thank God,” he said as he dropped the pile where he knew Jonathan wanted it, then turned and flew back to the house.
Suicide Slum
Metropolis, Delaware
His footfalls quietly echoed in the staircase as he slowly climbed the stairs like he did at least three times a day. One arm hugged the brown bag of groceries that threatened to spill out with every step, the other slid along the railing. He smiled as he heard a thundering roar quickly descending upon him and he pushed himself flat against the wall as the roar rushed passed him. The five boys were quickly fading from earshot as they raced to the school bus and he smiled, envious of their childhood since he had never experienced one himself.
He knew to them he looked just like any regular guy whose face would be forgotten after ten minutes anyway. It was part of the telepathic glimmer he created for himself to mask his true appearance.
His smiled faded when the next thing that ran passed his path had a tail and four legs.
With a dismissive sigh he continued his trek up the remaining three flights of stairs. He wondered why he bothered with these slum apartments, but when he remembered his salary he knew the reason why. Ever since Cadmus was reduced to rubble, the Government had had a decreasing use for him, especially with Luthor in office. As a direct result, his pay had also gotten smaller.
Relief settled in as he approached his door. If he could make it inside he could imagine – as per usual – that he was in Hawaii once again with the tropical sun beating down on his gray skin and away from this garbage dump. He fought with his keys, jiggling them until the one he needed was in his hand.
He entered his apartment, a small one-bedroom place that shared the kitchen, living and dining rooms in the same open space. Before he could push the door shut with his foot a sudden force pushed it wide open. A person rushed Dubbilex from behind and jammed the startled DNAlien in the neck with a needle. The sharp pain surprised the telepath as he wondered how he missed sensing this presence as a force unseen to him pushed him forward into the apartment. The door shut without Dubbilex’s influence.
Dubbilex spun with the intent of confronting his attacker. He froze when he came face to face with the lady that stood in front of him.
“Hello, Dubbilex,” Amanda Spence said with a silenced 9mm pointed straight at his chest. “Long time no see.”
Dubbilex instinctively tried to shut Amanda’s mind down and his white pupilless eyes widened in surprise when he found he couldn’t.
Amanda raised the empty needle. “I injected you with a little cocktail I cooked up. Should keep that pesky telekinesis turned off for days.” She then tapped the headband around her head. “This is a telepathic dampener; that’s why you couldn’t sense me. Superboy wasn’t my only concern at Cadmus. Your mind tricks won’t work on me.”
The DNAlien dropped the groceries to the floor and attempted to make a break to his bedroom. Amanda was too quick and a bullet exploded his kneecap, tearing through his joint, spraying a mess of blood, bone and cartilage on the wall. “AHHHHHHHH!” Dubbilex screamed as he crumpled to the carpeted floor.
She knelt next to Dubbilex, who writhed in agony, and pressed the weapon against his horned head. “You and I are going to have a little ‘Q and A’ okay?”
Dubbilex spat. “I won’t help you!”
A shark’s grin spread on Amanda’s lips. “Oh, I believe you will. Tell me where I can find Superboy.”
Smallville High School
Over the course of his life, Superboy had done few things with complete clarity. The majority of his experiences had left him with a dull, confused feeling. As he stared at the slightly rusty interior of his beige locker, surrounded by students who were milling about and talking and laughing about God knows what, Connor had the feeling that what he was about to endure would definitely fall into that “confusing” category.
He had been in school for almost a month now, but he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable there. In his relatively short life he had never felt the need for ‘secret identities’ and leading a ‘normal’ life. He liked just being a superhero (with the occasional hitting on the babes on the side). Why, then, was he doing all of this? His life was busy and it was hard enough just being a hero. Now he had a whole other life to deal with. The reflection in the mirror he kept in his locker was of a nervous, blonde-haired student. It was a face that he almost didn’t recognize as his own.
Connor shook his head to clear the thoughts in his head, sliding three books out of his locker and into his canvas book bag. I really shouldn’t think too much about shit like that, he thought. Why can’t I just go with it?
Caught in introspection, he did not notice the two girls approaching to his left.
“Hey, Connor.”
He looked up to see his friend Shauna standing over him, accompanied by a girl he had never met before. Shauna was attractive, blonde with blue eyes, while the stranger was a raven-haired beauty with the richest brown eyes Kon had ever seen. They were both dressed in appropriately skimpy red and gold cheerleading outfits.
“Shauna, hey, what’s up?” Connor grinned, trying to mask his appreciation for their clothing with appreciation for their presence. He did honestly like having Shauna there, though, something told him as he locked eyes with the raven-haired girl that she would not mind him looking at her body less covertly.
“Are you coming to the home opener tonight?”
Connor shrugged, zippered his bag and flung it over his shoulder. Neither girl could help but notice the corded muscles of his well-toned arms flexing as he moved.
“I dunno. I’m not normally big on crowds, or the whole school spirit thing.”
Shauna’s bottom lip popped out in mock disappointment. Then her friend bumped her in the arm with an elbow. “Connor, have you met my friend? She’s the head cheerleader of our squad.”
He quickly searched his memory to place her face, and those legs, with a name. It clicked instantly. “No, I haven’t, but I think we have English and Gym together. Andrea Parker, right?” He smiled and offered her his hand.
The grin on Andrea’s face told Connor that she was clearly pleased about being recognized, and her hand slid smoothly into his. “You really should come to tonight’s game,” she said in a slightly raspy voice that reminded him of Tara Reid’s. “You might enjoy it.”
Connor smiled. “Well, with an endorsement like that how could I possibly not go?”
With an ear splitting shriek the bell rang. Kon ran a hand through his short blonde hair. “Well I should get to class before Principal Moral has my ass sitting in detention. I’ll see you girls at the game.”
As the girls walked away, Connor turned his head and watched them sway in their short ruffled skirts. Even from twenty feet away he could hear Andrea whisper to Shauna. He grinned slyly.
“He is sooooo cute.”
At the hall intersection Kenny Klutter, a scrawny kid with wild brown hair that Connor had befriended his first day of school, fell in step next to him. “I heard we’re gonna have a pop quiz in Science.”
The larger teen did not hear a single word. The vision of a pair of perfect asses was still too fresh in his mind to ignore. “Hey Kenny, wanna go to the game tonight?”
Amanda’s head slightly bobbed to the beat of ‘Stuck In the Middle With You’ by the Stealers Wheel that blared in the tiny apartment. She circled the bound Dubbilex – who stared down at a spot of dried blood on the carpet – the glass shard in her hand slowly dripped blood off the broken edge. “I must say, Dubbilex, you’ve impressed me. All these little cuts and bruises. You may look like a freak, but your anatomy and pain threshold are just like everybody else’s.”
Amanda spun and got in Dubbilex’s face. “Now, we’ve done two out of the five basic torture groups. We’ve done blunt and, honestly my favorite, sharp.”
Dried blood crusted on the edges of his mouth. His tongue tasted like salt from the sweat and bleach from the sock that was stuffed in his mouth. His eyesight blurred as he tried to focus on the spot on the floor and ignore the fire that singed his synapses. His skin felt like it burned as hundreds of tiny shallow little cuts decorated his gray flesh, and blood ran down his arms and pooled at his fingertips and dripped off. His nose wheezed with every short shallow breath that his lungs struggled to suck in with two broken ribs. The knee throbbed, what little was left of it.
“I want you to know that none of this is your own fault. However, since this may be the last time I see you, Dubby, I do feel that it’s my kind of duty to tell you that if you’d been a better mentor to Superboy we could have avoided all of this. He may have turned out to be a good obedient little boy who knows when to take orders. My father would be alive. Instead, he turned out to be a selfish brat and that’s all you. You weren’t a positive enough of a role model for him. That must disappoint you.”
Amanda dragged the broken glass along Dubbilex’s bare chest. The DNAlien grunted in pain. “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”
Dubbilex mumbled.
She pulled the sock out of his mouth. “What was that?”
“Go…fuck yourself.” Dubbilex’s vocal chords were long blown and raw and barely able to put sound to the air that left his mouth.
Amanda’s face flushed red and her hand struck like a snake at his bound hands. Without hesitation she bent a finger backwards until…
CRACK!
Dubbilex ground his teeth and roared in pain.
Amanda sighed. “I can see that this will be a very long night.”
Kenny looked down at the square object in his hand and skeptically at the missing corner. The rough texture of the bread resembled a roof shingle and the dry cardboard taste that lingered bitterly on his tongue left him questioning his will to finish the browned grilled cheese sandwich. Not wishing to press his luck, he tossed the sandwich on to the tray and abandoned it.
The perfect dome of mashed potatoes was smashed under the pressure of the white plastic spoon, allowing the butter to pool freely down into the depression. Kenny scooped up and dumped the spoonful in to his mouth. Finally content with something he finished the potatoes in three bites.
“I heard that Superboy: The Animated Series is finally coming out on DVD. I loved that show. Too bad it only lasted half a season.”
Connor shrugged. “Eh, I wasn’t very big on it. It was too silly for me.” He took another huge bite out of his sandwich. “But, if you want it that bad I could probably get you the set for free. So don’t waste your money.”
“How’re you gonna do that?”
The last bite passed by his throat. “I have connections. Shouldn’t be too hard for me to get.” Connor pushed his tray away and stood. “I gotta hit the bowl. I’ll be right back.”
From across the huge cafeteria a pair of eyes followed Connor’s movement down the aisle between seemingly endless rows of packed tables. Without announcing his exit, Duke stood and followed shortly after.
Kon couldn’t help but think he was now doomed to smell shit for his life as he stood in front of the urinal, wishing he could focus his tactile-telekinesis to filter out floating fecal matter. It disgusted him to think that that was going inside him, but he tried to forget about it and focus on why he was here.
Connor zippered his fly and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He looked in the mirror on the wall and again felt a little shocked at the blonde haired teen that looked back. Kon leaned closer to the image to scrutinize the blonde hair dye that he got nearly two weeks ago. The blonde wig had gone up in flames in a compost heap at the farm shortly after some chick told Kon that the haircut reminded her of Aaron Carter.
He mentioned the incident to Robin that night and the following morning Connor woke up to find a package next to his bed.
Superboy,
Robin mentioned you needed a better disguise.
Batman
Inside the package Connor found a couple packets of special hair dye that reacts quickly and could only be dissolved with a special solvent to return his hair back to his natural color. Kon liked the dye a lot better than the wig since it looked more natural and wouldn’t get ruined during swim class.
Due to his proximity to the mirror and his focus, Kon barely saw the hand reaching for him and had little time to react and even less time to prepare for the impact his back made against the metal partition of the toilet stall.
His feet felt for the floor and found only air.
“Listen, faggot,” Duke hissed inches from Connors nose, nearly spraying spit on his face. “I saw you two this morning. I warned you nicely before. Now I’m tellin’ you flat out to stay the fuck away from Shauna.”
Connor grasped the arm that pinned across his chest, fighting the urge to rip the limb off his attacker’s body. “You’re the one practically tongue kissing me in the bathroom and I’m the fag? Plus, I have a friend who’d strongly take exception to your use of language.”
A fist slammed into Connor’s stomach and he voluntarily expelled some air from his lungs to cushion the blow for Duke’s fist. Connor was then dropped back to his feet.
“You think you’re funny don’t ya?”
Connor smirked. “It’s part of the charm. Girls find it irresistible.”
Duke’s face flushed in a fury as red as the hair on his head. “We’ll see how charming you look when you’re picking your teeth off the floor.”
Before things could escalate the bathroom door swung opened admitting entrance to the assigned supervisor. “Hurry things up in here guys.” He looked at the two. “Everything fine in here?”
Duke straightened his posture and the red drained from his face, but his eyes never looked away from Connor. “Yeah, everything’s cool.”
“Good,” the teacher said. “Now get back to lunch.”
With the three’s focus on each other as they filed out not one noticed the giant dent left in the side of the partition.
“…uh huh. That’s fine, Connor, have a good time at the game…Yes, you can go out after. Do you have enough money…Okay, good…Goodbye Connor.”
Martha Kent slid the cordless phone back into the base mounted on a kitchen wall. “Connor’s going to the football game tonight,” she announced to Jonathan, who sat at the table reading the newspaper.
Jonathan shook his head. “I hope he doesn’t get want to try out for the team. Having Clark on it was bad enough, let alone another him.” He put the paper down. “Connor is coming home directly after?”
“No, he said him and Kenny might go out to eat after.” Martha slid into the chair opposite her husband.
“And you okayed that? Martha he’s a seventeen-year-old boy. He shouldn’t be gallivanting around the town doing God knows what.”
“Jonathan Kent, he’s saved the world numerous times, and Lord knows how many people on other worlds…and more importantly our son trusts him. Shouldn’t we give him the same courteously and the responsibility to go with it?”
Jonathan sighed heavily, knowing his wife was right. “Yeah, I guess.” He raised the paper back up and they shared a couple minutes of silence before the paper lowered again. “…So he’s going to be gone for a couple hours, right?”
She rubbed her hands together under the running water. The blood washed off and mixed together with the water as it swirled clockwise around the drain in the center of the sink. Amanda reached out and rubbed her hands clean with a dishtowel.
The apartment was quiet now and a part of Amanda Spence found tranquility in the silence. She walked around the counter and barely cast a glance to the unconscious man lying on the floor still tied to the dining room chair. Her hand pulled the cell phone from her jeans pocket and her thumb punched the keypad three times.
“911 Emergency.”
“Yes,” Amanda said as she opened the apartment door. “I’d like to report some strange noises coming from my neighbor’s apartment.” She rattled off the address then flipped the phone shut.
Without further thought she shut the door behind her and exited the apartment building.
Giant rectangle spotlights surrounded the bleachers of the high school stadium. They were suspended high into the night sky on the end of tall metallic poles and bathed the ground in white fluorescent light to chase away the darkness, leaving the spectators to watch the football game in simulated daylight.
Connor and Kenny were partially watching the football game and partially watching the cute cheerleaders on both sides of the field.
“Why don’t you go out for the team, Connor?” Kenny asked. “You’re strong. And fast, too.”
“I don’t think so,” Connor replied. “I have other...after-school activities. You know, stuff on the farm and other things.”
Connor really hated to keep his identity a secret from his friend. Though, in all fairness, until recently, he never had a secret identity to keep secret, so he really had no idea how to bring up the subject that he was cloned as a replacement for the world’s most well-known superhero.
Around them the crowd cheered as the Smallville Giants scored a touchdown. Connor looked at the field and saw #11 pump a fist in the air. He fought the acid that nearly crawled up his esophagus at the very sight of Duke.
“Yeah, right, your secret after-school stuff,” Kenny replied, a little downtrodden. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Why can’t you tell me where you go in the afternoons?”
“It’s...complicated, but trust me. I’m sure one day you’ll know and understand,” Connor told him as he concentrated on the cheerleaders doing their celebration routine. Andrea climbed up on to the hands of four girls and – something hurt behind Connor’s eyes. He squeezed them shut and quickly felt some relief from the act. He opened his eyes and took in a quick breath when he saw the cheerleader high in the air with her legs spread apart – she was completely naked!
His eyes darted to the cheerleader squad to discover that they were all equally as nude. Normally, he would have taken a great amount of pleasure from seeing a group of hot girls naked with each other, but the realization and shock hit him suddenly. “Oh, no…How…?”
“What is it?” Kenny replied noticing a look of discomfort on his friends face.
Connor looked away from the field and saw the crowd was also naked. His eyesight went fuzzy, and when they cleared he looked straight into the empty black sockets of a skull.
“Ah!” he cried out.
“Are you alright?” the skull asked with Kenny’s voice.
“Uh, yeah,” Connor replied, trying to gain control over the situation and his cool. “I just…uh...realized that I’m out of…uh…Dr. Pepper. I’m...going to get a refill. You want one?” he asked as he stood and walked away slowly.
The skeleton looked down at its cup, and the skull shook up and down.
“Be back soon.”
Connor ducked behind the bleachers and closed his eyes, trying to get his x-ray vision under control. The dull ache began to fade. Taking a chance he slowly opened his eyes to find, to his relief, that everybody was back in their clothes…and skins.
He had been told many times that he was not a true clone of Superman, but simply a human equivalent whose cells shared many properties with those of the Kryptonian. Yet nearly a year ago, after discovering the gruesome death of his friend, Jim Harper, Connor had felt a burning behind his eyes that resulted in a furious blast of heat vision. He hadn’t given it much thought then, given the tragedy, and let it slide.
Part of him, however, had always hoped that his powers would increase and not simply be limited to his tactile-telekinesis. Something more to make him feel closer to Superman, and make him feel worthy to wear the ‘S’ than just being an easy choice. Unfortunately, that something more had never happened again, and Kon had since given up hope and surrendered to living his life forever stuck at sixteen.
His life had always been one set of unexpected and weird circumstances after another. Take the whole ‘Sins of Youth’ ordeal that restored his ability to grow older again, for example. Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to stay in Smallville – nothing exciting or weird had happened there in thirty-two years. Now, as he tried to cut himself a slice of normality, his powers had finally begun to surface.
Connor drew in a deep breath and released it in a physical effort to compose himself. He made his way back into the stands, muttering his apologies to the spectators he disrupted before dropping back into the open spot next to his friend.
Kenny looked over at Connor’s empty hands. “Where’s the drinks?”
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten. I got sidetracked when I had to take a piss. There’s not much time left in the game so we can hit Mickey D’s for a burger after if we want. I’ll pay.”
Convinced with the lie Kenny shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. That sounds fine with me. I am getting a little hungry.”
Connor watched Kenny return his focus back to the football and noticed how his face seemed to change. Kenny’s eyes squinted just slightly, and he absent-mindedly began to chew on the inside of his cheek like he did whenever he lost himself deep in concentration. He turned to look at the others in the crowd and noticed their various reactions to the game. Some sat quietly, while taking a moment or two to comment on the last play, others, rather vocally, offered their own coaching expertise as if they too had twenty years of experience under their belt, and the rest were their own mix in between.
But, Kon noticed that they all shared one thing in common. They all treated this as if this were the only thing important to them in the entire world. Not their taxes, not their exams next week and certainly not their costumed arch nemesis’ that sought to dominate the world in one fashion or another. This – a football game.
Then a realization dawned on the teen hero. He had spent his entire life consumed with being a hero, an identity that he hardly worked at denying, that he never developed a way to escape it and enjoy other things that that life denied him. Those small moments that would connect him to a larger world that every person experienced without concern for the big picture.
Sure, this life would have its challenges – such as Duke – but that was far outweighed by what he would gain here. Was that the answer to his doubt Conner was trying to figure out? Did he finally sort his reservations out?
A smile split Kon’s lips, and the sudden roar of the crowd reacting to yet another touchdown, muffled his own cheer of excitement. It was about damn time!
The End...
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