Angrily, he pushed himself to make up for all the work Clark hadn’t been doing. The more he realized that he couldn’t get it done, the angrier he became. When Martha came out to tell him the school called to say Clark had been late for school that morning for the ninth time that month, he felt his temper shoot skyward. Martha never told him what Clark was doing wrong unless she was fed up with the teen and wanted him to dish out some discipline.

He tossed another bail of hay down from the loft and was reaching for a third when he heard a car coming down the driveway. He headed out of the barn to see who’d come to visit and walked out in time to see the Sheriff climbing out of his patrol car and placing his hat on his head.

“Ethan!” He said, glad to see the Sheriff. “Surprised to see you still in uniform. I thought you’d be on yer way outta town by now.”

Ethan’s spine was stiff as he spoke, “I figured before I went off on my vacation, I should be the one to come and tell you what happened this morning. Maybe you and I should sit down.”

“Sounds serious,” Jonathan commented, hoping Ethan was just joking. The Sheriff didn’t smile at all.

Ethan sat at the head of the kitchen table, and waited patiently for Martha to finish pouring coffee. Once Jonathan had taken a slow sip of his coffee, he asked, “What’s this about, Ethan?”

Ethan sighed, and began, “One of my deputies saw a thing this morning that I found hard to believe.”

“What did he see?” Martha sat down with her own coffee at the table and waited for Ethan to speak.

“Deputy Worten saw Clark and his friend Lex Luthor running down the street after Derek Moriman. He’s one of the homeless,” Ethan began.

“I know who Derek is, Ethan,” Jonathan scowled as he spoke. “We all do. I know a lot of the high school boys seem to think harassing him is a right of passage. But I can’t even picture Lex Luthor bothering him, let alone Clark!”

“Jonathan, boys will be boys. Clark’s a good boy most of the time, but I’ve seen him pull his share of harmless pranks just like all the other kids in town. Usually I just tell him to go on home and he does, and I don’t mention anything to you. But what Markus says happened wasn’t a prank.”

Martha lifted her brows, shocked by Ethan’s serious attitude. “Ethan, what happened?”

“Lex and Clark were seen harassing Derek.” Jonathan immediately started to object to what Ethan was saying, but the Sheriff stopped him with a quick waving motion. “Deputy Worten tried to chase after the boys to try and stop them, but he lost them around a corner. When he saw them again they were getting in Lex’s car. He asked them some questions but they mouthed off at him and went on their way. Not ten minutes later, he said Anthony Carter came out of his alley and told him two boys beat up Derek. Anthony saw the whole thing from the dumpster he was sleeping in, and he said two boys really gave Derek a hard beating. The descriptions he gave fit Clark and Lex exactly. Derek’s in the hospital right now in critical condition.”

Ethan looked from Martha to Jonathan who were both just staring at him as though waiting for him to suddenly burst out laughing. He sighed. “I didn’t want to believe it either. But Markus got this information from a witness and said that Derek gave him descriptions that fit Lex and Clark too.”

“Clark would never hurt anyone like that!” Martha shouted angrily.

Jonathan nodded to his wife. “Ethan, I will not believe that Clark would hurt Mr. Moriman like that. I don’t even think Lex would do such a thing! Markus must’ve been seeing things. It could not have been Clark!”

Ethan leaned forward in his chair and looked Jonathan in the eye. “I’d like to go along with you and be able to say the same thing. The fact remains that Derek Moriman is in the hospital and a witness says he saw the boys beating him up.”

“One witness?” Martha wondered. “Sheriff, something’s not right. You can’t just say it was Clark and then…”

Ethan waved Martha to be silent and interrupted her, “Neither one of you has to worry about any kind of legal action being taken. Even if Clark did…”

“He didn’t!” Martha said quickly.

Ethan heaved a deep sigh. “Martha, Jonathan, since Derek is refusing to press charges, I didn’t want to mention this to either of you. I went to the hospital myself to see Derek, because I couldn’t believe it either when Markus told me what he’d seen and heard. Derek told me that a tall boy with black hair went after him and chased him into an alley and then beat the daylights out of him. He said that Lex Luthor stopped the kid and pulled him off. After that, I spoke with the doctor who treated Derek. He said that whoever beat up on Derek was no weakling. It was someone strong enough to break bones and knock out teeth and who could punch hard enough to cause internal damage so bad that Derek will need surgery.” The Kents held very still and neither one of them said a word as they listened. “I just thought I’d come and tell you so that you could handle Clark in your own way.” Ethan put his hat on and went out the door, leaving the Kents to look at each other questioningly. They heard the Sheriff’s car start up and both of them watched through the window as he drove away.

Silently, Martha got up from her chair and picked up the coffee cups. “I still don’t believe it.”

Without looking at her, Jonathan said, “Neither do I, but Clark still managed to get himself into trouble somehow.”

~*~

Steve Miller pulled his late model Firebird up outside the Kent farm and smiled genuinely. It wasn’t often he got the chance to offer Clark or Ryan a ride home because of football practice, but today he’d gotten out early because the new coach had gone home sick. When he’d mentioned he’d bought a newer car, both Clark and the younger boy had been all-too eager to test out his recent acquisition with him.

“So you like the car?” Steve watched as Ryan’s features contorted into a grin that shouted ‘awesome’ before he even opened his mouth.

“It’s great!” Ryan’s smile dulled just for an instant, and he gave Steve a look that was way beyond his years. “I wouldn’t go testing out how fast she’ll go on the way home, though. I hear the cops are having a crackdown on road racers lately…”

Steve frowned and looked the youngster in the eye. It had been almost like Ryan had read his very thoughts. Shrugging off the uncanny sensation, he cuffed Ryan around the ear playfully and then glanced up to Clark who had already exited. “Not even if I invite you two along to see how this baby performs?” The blonde’s voice was daring them to join him, and he revved the engine a little until it seemed to purr loudly.

Clark folded his arms and leaned down low, peering inside through the open window at Ryan with an apologetic expression. “You know we can’t, buddy. I’ve already missed half of this week’s chores trying to get my homework done.”

Ryan pulled a face that only Clark knew meant ‘with your speed it shouldn’t be a problem’. The towering farm boy chose to ignore the poke at his abilities and opened the door for Ryan to exit.

“Aww, Clark…”

“Maybe next time,” Clark nodded his thanks to Steve for the lift home and watched as he carefully guided his new bright red ‘babe magnet’ out of the Kent driveway and out to straighter, faster back roads.

“We could have gone with him!” Ryan kicked up small pockets of dirt in frustration with his sneakers, “It’s so boring while you’re always doing chores or schoolwork…” The kid’s bottom lip seemed to protrude in just the right manner to make his elder feel extremely guilt ridden, and he stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “Can’t we shoot some hoops for awhile?”

Clark’s brow puckered ever so slightly and his head tipped a little to the side in consternation. “You know I really need to get good grades this term or there will be no playing basketball, period!” He gently put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and almost had to crouch to appear eye to eye. “After my school work I have to do those chores before Dad realizes I skipped them too. You do understand, buddy?”

“Um yeah…” More loose earth was shuffled beneath his feet, but Ryan nodded. “What if I help you do the work after we play? Please, Clark?”

Ever the softhearted hero, Clark couldn’t resist the puppy dog expression directed at him. “Okay, just for a few minutes, but then I do the work.”

“Cool!” Ryan sped off to the infamous Kent barn and returned with a basketball in record time. He waited patiently beneath the well-worn hoop for Clark to join him. “Best of three?” He grinned impishly, tossing his jacket over a recently stacked pile of hay.

Clark’s own smile broadened and he supersped across the yard and behind Ryan in a haze of motion. Before the youngster knew it, Clark had the ball and was bouncing it back towards the haystack. He stopped midway and turned around, whirling the ball on one finger.

“You never said I couldn’t use my speed!” He winked and made a shot without even blinking. The ball arched through the air perfectly and touched down on the rim of the hoop. It balanced precariously for a second, then rolled inwards and down.

“Aww, not fair!” Ryan complained but was already giggling as he grabbed the ball and dodged Clark’s next challenge. The pair seemed to tackle one another head on for possession in what looked more like a football scrum than basketball and then tumbled to the ground laughing.

“No, it’s not fair to use an unfair advantage like that, and it’s not fair to leave your responsibilities to someone else, Son.”

Clark rolled over and the joy on his face abruptly turned to dismay. If he had been human, the rosy color may well have drained from his cheeks. As it was, he felt an unearthly bat trying to tear from his stomach as he realized the trouble he was apparently in.

Jonathan was standing over both of them, arms folded in both anger and disappointment. He had hoped Clark would come home and explain the business with Derek Moriman or at the very least do homework or the farm work he had so easily ‘forgotten.’

Ryan grimaced and scrambled up first, brushing off loose dust to face his adoptive father. “It was my fault, Mr. Kent. I asked Clark to play basketball. Please don’t be mad at him.”

The words angered the already incensed farmer more. It was bad enough that Clark hadn’t been forthright about Moriman but to let Ryan take the blame was downright spineless.

Jonathan gulped, trying to curb his already seething temper, “Ryan, I’d like for you to go in and help Martha with dinner. This is between me and Clark.” Somehow he kept his voice level.

Ryan winced, “But…”

“No!” Jonathan finally snapped, “Clark you were supposed to fix the fence three days ago, and because you didn’t, I had to explain to a neighbor why three of our cows were grazing on his crops!”

Clark jumped up to defend himself but suspected it was already too late. Jonathan’s temperament was usually right on the money, but if something had gotten him this fired up, it had to be bad. “I was doing a Chemistry assignment last night!” he argued. “I really meant to do the fence…”

“Like you really meant to bale that hay?” Jonathan’s veins were protruding from his neck as he threw a tan work glove at the nearby stack. “I spent half the afternoon clearing all that out of the barn! And if that wasn’t enough your mother got a call from school today saying you were late for the ninth time…”

This time, alien physiology or not, Clark reddened. He looked to the ground with just a hint of guilt. “I know I slacked a little; that’s why I missed my chores to catch up on homework.”

“And I suppose that’s why I’ve got the Sheriff coming down here telling me he has a witness that places you and Lex Luthor beating up an old man?” Jonathan bit his lip and spun around, letting his back face Clark. He didn’t really believe his son had hurt anyone. He didn’t even think Lex had, but as his grandmother had always said, ‘There’s no smoke without fire, Jon!’ Something happened today, dammit! Why didn’t he tell Martha and me about it?

Clark’s back straightened as his own emotions took hold. “THAT DID NOT HAPPEN!” The teenager rarely spoke back to his father, but on this occasion he felt justified in defending himself.

“Clark! Will you just let me talk?” Jonathan turned back to face his son, but deep down had already realized the damage he’d done.

This time Clark turned away and fixed his gaze on the barn wall. He couldn’t look at his father right now, partly because he really had slacked on his chores, but partly because his dad had even considered that he would harm another living soul on purpose. “If I’d been with Pete or Chloe, or anyone else, you wouldn’t even have listened to that story! But because it was Lex, you suddenly think I’d behave differently? You know Lex may be a lot of things, but you actually even THINK he’d beat up an old man? Or that I’d stand and watch, let alone help him?” He waited for a response; any kind of admonition from his dad that he’d been rash in his judgment, but silence and the cluck of the nearby hens was all that came to his ears.

The two stood a small distance apart for over two minutes, both far too stubborn to say the first word of apology or admit that they’d both said and done things in haste. Eventually, Clark could stand it no more and supersped into the far field. He didn’t once glance back to see his dad’s hurt expression, or Martha come running from the farmhouse door at Ryan’s urgent request.

Jonathan gulped as his son raced away without speaking. He knew he’d been justified about the school work, possibly even the farm work, but mentioning Derek Moriman had been a mistake. It had been something to be brought up calmly after dinner--not in a hurried, angry manner. It all came out wrong. I know he’d never willingly hurt anyone. Martha and I didn’t raise a son like that. Chores or not, he’s no thug!

“Jonathan?” Martha’s hurried query broke him from further regrets. “What happened? I heard the raised voices, and then Ryan almost broke the screen door because he was in such a hurry to get me out here.” The mother obviously knew things had not gone well. Jonathan and Clark had had words like this before, once it had even been over joining the school football team, but it was something she still abhorred to see and hear. “I know I asked you to mention the school business, but…”

Jonathan inhaled slowly and carefully picked up the work glove he had tossed earlier in his rage. He was cooling down now, and quickly realizing that he had probably made things worse. “I’m sorry, Martha.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and his steely blue eyes met with his wife, “I think things might not’ve come out quite the way I’d have liked them too--especially not about Ethan’s visit.”

Martha’s mouth opened as she took in what that meant. Clark hadn’t raced off over chores. He actually believed they thought him capable of harming old Mr. Moriman. Convincing the teenager there had never been any question of his innocence now wasn’t going to be easy. “You Kent men are the most stubborn males in Kansas! We have to make Clark see we never doubted him, Jonathan!”

Jonathan knew Martha was right; just the same way he knew Clark hadn’t harmed a living soul. The thing was, he needed a little more time to cool down before he apologized in public. Clark was all fired up too and probably wouldn’t listen to anyone right now anyway.

Martha scowled at her husband’s lack of response and apparent guilty conscience. “If you two won’t deal with this man to man, then I will!” taking Ryan by the shoulder, Martha led him back to the house and left Jonathan to simmer down.

Clark watched from his position in the field. He was leaning heavily on the fence he should have repaired, and feeling the shame of his undone work. He knew he’d been wrong not to do his schoolwork on time, and the jobs set by his father. The farm was barely making any money, and sometimes his help was all that kept the debt collectors from the door. But I didn’t hit anyone! Sheriff Ethan must have been talking about Mr. Moriman, but Lex and I only tried to help him!

Clark scrutinized the farm and noted Martha had taken Ryan inside. Jonathan was still near the barn, his heartbeat finally slowing to a more normal pace.

Staying in x-ray mode, Clark viewed the proceedings at the kitchen table. He couldn’t hear Martha’s words at this distance, but she was obviously saying something with affection to Ryan and patting him on the shoulder. He grimaced but resisted the urge to turn away from the scene. Mom always comes to talk to me. Why can’t she be here for me now to explain what I’ve done that is so bad? What I can’t discuss with Dad, I can always talk through with Mom--at least I used to be able to!

A pang of jealousy ripped through the usually level headed farm boy, and without waiting to see what happened next, he hit superspeed again until he reached the county limits. Not even Ethan could tell lies about him there.

Oblivious to her mistake, Martha continued her conversation with Ryan. If anyone could get through to both Jonathan and Clark, then he could. Little did she know he was carrying remorse of his own about the incident.

“I can’t talk to Clark about this, Mrs. Kent.” Ryan couldn’t budge his gaze from the tabletop, and he snuffled at the argument he thought he’d caused. “It’s all my fault. He was going to do his chores, but I talked him into playing basketball instead. Mr. Kent wouldn’t let me explain…”

Martha patted Ryan on the shoulder and then fetched him a tissue. “I think everyone has their share of apologizing to do today.” She looked to the kitchen window to see Jonathan finally trudging towards the door. Hopefully, Clark wouldn’t be too far behind, “The thing is, getting someone to be the first person to admit they’re wrong in this household isn’t exactly easy!”

~*~

After hearing the news of the false accusations made toward himself and Clark, Lex began to make phone calls to his people. His own personnel were efficient and within a matter of hours, they were able to deliver everything they could find out about Derek Moriman and the witness who’d made the false report. Once he had the information in his hands, he debated the idea of visiting the Kent farm. It’s likely Mr. Kent won’t want to see me within a mile of his property. I doubt he believes that story, but he won’t be happy with me either. Clark would take it personally if his father yelled at me and he’d try to defend me. That would end with them fighting. I’ll just wait. Clark’s bound to show up at the mansion sometime tonight.

Later that evening, Clark walked into Lex’s living room wearing a glum expression. Lex clicked a button on the remote and the late news disappeared in a flash as the screen blackened. “I was wondering when you would turn up, Clark.”

Clark dropped his jacket over a chair near the door and flopped down on the leather sofa across from Lex’s seat. “Did the Sheriff come knocking on your door?”

“Worse,” Lex got up out of his chair and carried his empty glass across the room to the small bar as he spoke, “He came to my office. My father just happened to be there and Ethan decided to make sure he heard every word.”

Knowing Lionel, he got mad because publicity like this wouldn’t look good. I doubt he’d care if Lex did it or not. Clark kept his thoughts to himself and instead asked, “How’d he react?”

Lex got a can of soda out from under the bar for Clark and dropped some fresh ice cubes in his glass over which he poured scotch for himself. “At first, my father got mad at the Sheriff and said even if he’d seen video footage of the scenario, he wouldn’t give it any credence.”

“I thought that…” Clark trailed off feeling worse now because even Lionel didn’t believe the tale of them harassing and beating up a homeless man--but his own father did.

“It’s okay Clark, you can finish that thought. You thought my dad would get mad at me, and blame me for getting caught, while not actually caring if I’d really committed the crime or not.”

Clark shot a look of guilt at the floor and nodded. Lex returned to his chair and handed the soda can to the teen. “Honestly, I thought my dad would think that very thing, but he really didn’t buy the story Ethan had to tell.”

“My dad seems to think we’re guilty,” Clark muttered as he snapped open the soda can.

Lex looked at the teen over the rim of his glass, surprised. He swallowed quickly. “I somehow doubt your father thinks you had anything to do with this.”

Clark shook his head. “He certainly sounded like he thought so. I didn’t get a word in edgewise with him, so I don’t know exactly what supposedly happened. I only know that we both got accused of beating up Mr. Moriman this morning.”

“I can tell you.” Lex set his glass down on the coffee table between them. “According to the witness, you and I chased Mr. Moriman into an alley. We nearly beat him to death, and then we laughed about it and walked away. After that, the witness crawled out of the garbage heap he’d been sleeping in and found Deputy Sheriff Markus to help.”

Clark sipped his soda and put the can down gently. “Even if I didn’t know for a fact we had nothing to do with this, I’d say that sounds wrong.”

“I thought the same thing,” Lex nodded. “I had my people look into it. They found the name of the witness, Nelson Carter, who happens to go by the alias ‘Nark.’ According to what they found, this man will do just about anything for a bottle of cheap alcohol.”

Clark followed Lex’s line of logic to the conclusion easily. “So, someone offered Nark a bottle of booze and asked him to make up a story about us. Whoever made that offer was probably the man who really beat up Derek.”

Lex didn’t comment but picked up his glass to have a drink from it and set it back down on the table. Clark shook his head and asked, “Why us?”

“Convenience?” Lex asked, but seemed to be thinking of a reason for their predicament. “We were there. We were seen talking to Mr. Moriman. Other than that, I can’t think of why we were framed. But there’s more to this.”

“What?” Clark wondered, thinking Lex would give him a round-about answer of some larger scheme that was going on somewhere.

Lex shot a pensive expression at the teen. “Mr. Moriman lied too, Clark.”

“He what?” Clark questioned in shock. “Don’t tell me he went along with…”

“Not quite,” Lex interrupted. “Sheriff Ethan went to see Mr. Moriman when he regained consciousness. According to Derek’s version of events, you chased him into the alley and beat him up. Then I stopped you, pulled you off and dragged you away.”

“Why would Derek make up a story like that?” Clark nearly shouted. “Why lie like that?”

Lex thought a moment and then shrugged. “Don’t take it personally, Clark. He could have done worse and gone along with what Nark said and then pressed charges against us both. Neither one of us would do any prison time, because I’d get out of it, and…”

“…and I’m a minor, right?” Clark asked, interrupting Lex.

“Derek thought up a golden lie.” Lex began to explain. “He probably felt that he didn’t have a choice in the matter. The story Nark told is probably the one the real assailant wanted Derek to go along with. By changing it a little and refusing to press charges he keeps us out of any real trouble, while he’ll be able to stay alive.”

Clark scowled at his soda can. “He still went along with it though, and our names will get dragged through the mud. My dad will probably have me rebuilding an entire barn complete with plumbing and electricity instead of just a tractor this time around.”

“Clark, try to understand,” Lex spoke in a tolerant voice. “Derek doesn’t have a choice. Someone has him too scared to tell the truth. He’s homeless. He has no power and no protection. The fact that he has the same rights as the rest of us do is only a technicality, but being homeless means he doesn’t have a door he can lock. There’s no phone he can use to call the police, and if he did go into the police station looking for help, they’d probably throw him out. A few weeks from now, he’ll be living on the street again. If the person who beat him up in the first place even thinks he might have snitched, they’ll just beat him again.”

Understanding gleamed in the teen’s eyes. “What if you offered him some kind of sanctuary?”

“I’ve offered him sanctuary and a job at the homeless shelter every time I’ve seen him since I met him last year. He won’t accept,” Lex said frustrated. “It’s like they say about horses and water.”

How come he doesn’t just let Derek come and live here for a little while? If he did that, he’d have to take in all the other homeless people too. It’s not like he doesn’t have the space, but, no matter how much help Derek needs, that’s like letting a stranger use the sofa. Who knows what they might do. Maybe they’re mostly nice people who’d use the help and do some good for themselves and help others in return. Or maybe you might end up letting a maniac in the house. Even if Derek is a good guy, it’d probably take him a long time to get enough money together to afford a home for himself. I bet that could take almost a year. Aloud, he asked, “Maybe the guy who beat him up goes to the homeless shelter?”

“Maybe.” Lex propped his feet up on the coffee table.

Clark had a sudden thought, brought on by the sour attitude the Deputy Sheriff had taken with him and Lex that morning. “You think Markus could’ve beaten him up?”

Lex paused in thought a few seconds and then turned his head to look at the teen. “Suspicions are very hard to prove and intuition is a fickle source.”

Clark nodded. “If I’m translating Lex-speak correctly, that’s a yes.”

Lex cleared his throat and got to his feet, changing the subject, “You wanna go get a burger somewhere?”

“What happened to William?” Clark asked, referring to Lex’s butler.

Lex tossed Clark’s jacket to him. “He’s off for the night.”

William’s on duty. I saw him when I came in. Lex’s lying to me, but I know what he’s up to. He’s bribing me with fast food to get me in the car. That way he can drop me off in front of my house after we eat and make sure I go home. Clark put his jacket on, realizing he’d missed dinner because of the fight he’d had with his dad. Now he was starving. Good plan.

~*~

A jazzy Christmas tune was playing on the radio in Pete’s car and as he drove toward the Kent farm, he sang along with it. He made the turn into the driveway and saw Clark was up on a ladder that leaned against the ‘Kent Farm’ sign and he was hanging green garland over the corners. Smiling mischievously, he beeped his horn to scare him.

Clark was so startled by the sudden noise that he nearly toppled backwards off the ladder. Catching himself, he turned to glare down at Pete who’d stopped the car and now had his head out the driver’s side window. “Hey! Clark-man! You look like you could use a little distraction. You wanna hit the arcade?”

As if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to climb up here, he’s gotta make it worse by sneaking up on me. “Maybe later.”

“Come on, man!” Pete complained and got out of his car. He shrugged to secure the collar of his jacket around his neck. “Yer not seriously gonna turn down a chance to blow up aliens so you can hang candy canes on a tree with the rich bald boy instead. Are yah?”

Little things had been aggravating Clark all morning, and Pete’s arrival and friendly but demanding tone was just another nuisance he could have done without. He just wanted to get through the endless list of chores and go back to sleep until it was time to go back to school. Three more days of school, and we’re off for two whole weeks. I was looking forward to vacation until Dad had to mouth off. I know he’s too proud to admit that he’s wrong, but I am not going to be the one to take the first step forward in making peace with him. Carefully, he finished putting up the last of the garland and climbed down the ladder.

Pete was waiting for him on the ground and lifted his brows at him. “Man, what’s with the face?”

“Nothing,” Clark lied and pulled the aluminum ladder away from the sign, which was now so covered with garland that the Kent name was barely visible. Before Pete could pester him about his mood, he changed the subject. “I was just gonna go see Lana before she takes off to Metropolis.”

He picked up the ladder and carried it over the driveway toward the barn. Pete followed, staying just behind him as he teased, “Yer lucky Chloe ain’t around to hear that! She’d…”

“Pete!” Clark snapped. “I’m only going to tell her good luck!”

“Aw, come on Clark! I’m just teasing. Why’re you so crabby?” Pete’s tone was understanding and forgiving at the same time. He laughed jovially and somehow Clark found that aggravating. I am miserable, and the last thing I want is for Pete to try to make me laugh over something stupid. If I laugh and Dad sees it, he’ll think he’s been forgiven. I will not let this one go! I’ve done some stupid things, and there are things that I wouldn’t blame Dad for thinking are true. It’s ridiculous that he’d think I’d beat up some old man. He put the ladder away in the barn and realized Pete had been talking to him for the last two minutes and he hadn’t heard a word of it.

“Come on, Clark!” Pete complained and now he looked angry. “What is with you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, Pete!” Clark growled at his friend without thinking. “Everyone in town must know by now that me and Lex supposedly ganged up on old man Moriman!”

Pete started to laugh out loud and had to grab a hold of a railing to keep himself from falling over. “OH! Man!” he snorted. “That’s a good one, Clark. I’ve had people spread rumors about me too, man. No big deal.”

“No big deal to you cause if it was you, your dad would laugh at someone for saying you’d beaten up on some old man.” Clark glowered as he picked tools up off a workbench and tossed them roughly into their places on a shelf.

Pete stopped laughing and his smile disappeared. “What? Whoa! Clark-man, are you saying your dad thinks you did beat up that old man?”

Clark straightened his shoulders and shifted his weight from one foot to the next and then nodded. “Yeah.”

“No way! Your dad?” Pete looked directly into his eyes. “Clark, you must’ve gotten some wires crossed. That don’t sound like the same Mr. Kent I know!”

Clark tossed a final tool into a drawer and kicked it shut. Really didn’t want to get into this, but he won’t let this rest until he’s got all the details. “I’ll tell you about it on the way to Lana’s.”

“All right, man.” Pete followed Clark out of the barn and across the street to Lana’s house, listening carefully as Clark related the argument he’d had with his father.

~*~

The moment Clark set his foot down on Lana’s front yard, he felt immediately at ease. There was no more pining for the girl next door. He now thought of her as friend who was as familiar as the plastic Christmas gnomes that had decorated her front yard for as long as he could remember. She can be really aggravating sometimes, but she always seems to know when I’m upset and she says just the right thing to make me feel better.

Something about Lana’s place put him at ease and made him forget for a moment that he was a farmer’s son. There’s always work to do at home, cows and crops to take care of, and something always needs to be fixed. Nothing ever seems to be out of shape here, and there’s only a few horses to look after, rather than a whole herd of livestock. I can forget about all the chores and trouble I have waiting for me at home for just a few minutes.

“Morning, Ms. Potter!” Pete called out to Lana’s Aunt Nell, who’d walked out onto the porch to greet them. Clark was a bit late taking notice of her and smiled crookedly feeling like he’d missed something while he’d been lost in a haze of thoughts.

“Hey you two,” she said with a wave. “Pete, I was just trying to call your mother, but her line is busy.” Nell smiled and motioned for him to come and talk with her.

Pete climbed the stairs onto the porch, as Nell reached into the house quickly and brought out a paper. Clark thought about following after Pete, but Nell waved him toward the corral. “Clark, I know you really came to see Lana. Besides, this will only take a minute.” She unfolded a paper and handed it to Pete. Clark guessed that Nell had a last minute business transaction to make and wanted to finish it before she left for Metropolis for the weekend. Maybe she’s just using business and an excuse to pull Pete to the side to ask him if me and Lex really beat up Mr. Moriman. Pete’ll tell me if that’s what this is about.

He left his friend behind to talk to Nell, and went around the house to the horse barn. Before he saw Lana, he heard the beating of hooves on the ground. He could have used his X-ray vision to peer through the barn into the corral, but he chose to walk around it instead. From one side of the barn, he stayed slightly out of Lana’s sight and watched as she made her horse trot, and then turn and make and easy leap over a bar she’d set up for practice.

Lana was focused intently on giving her prized gelding, Moonlight, just enough of a workout to both warm him and tire him out a little. He’d be much calmer through the ride to Metropolis once he’d had his exercise, but she didn’t want to overdo it. He needed to have energy to spend on the competition itself, and although he wouldn’t have his moment until seven o’clock, she worried about using up all his strength for practice. She knew the horse well though, and if she paid attention and read his body language, she would know just the right moment to quit.

The routine exercises worked to calm her nerves as well and she began to think about taking Moonlight for a trot over the field as far as the road. The slow easy path wouldn’t wear down her horse and would calm both his nerves and her own. He knows something is going on today. I think he knows that I’m nervous and he’s a little bit jumpy because of it.

“Hey, Lana!” Clark called out. Lana jerked in the saddle, surprised by his sudden greeting. Moonlight threw his front hooves into the air, letting out a startled whinny. Lana tumbled off the horse with a scream of fright and landed hard on her ass on the nearly frozen ground. Moonlight galloped away in his fright to the other side of the corral and neighed his dissatisfaction as he tossed his head. He seemed to realize after a moment that nothing was really wrong, but his ears went back and he blew air out of his nostrils.

“Lana!” Clark called out, already by her side, and trying to help her up. “Lana, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

She’d fallen harder than that in the past, but having done it in the middle of a simple exercise a few hours before a competition felt like a bad omen. She knew it was her own fault she’d been thrown. If she’d been paying attention to her surroundings, she would have seen Clark first and he wouldn’t have startled her with a simple greeting. She refused to take the hand he offered to help her up and got to her feet on her own power. He should have known better than to call out like that! Ignoring Clark’s anxious questions, she looked toward her horse and saw he was standing nervously at the far side of the corral. It’ll take forever to calm him down again! Everything was fine until Clark showed up! She stalked toward her horse, but as he saw her coming, he spooked and galloped away from her again. “Dammit!” she hissed angrily.

“I’ll get him,” Clark said hoping he didn’t mess things up too badly. He’d only been watching Lana a few minutes, but he’d thought she’d known he was there. I guess when I thought she looked straight at me, she didn’t notice me.

“Don’t bother, Clark!” Lana shot a glaring look at him and stood still watching Moonlight gallop around the corral. She wouldn’t try to get the reigns again until he stopped on his own. It would be a few minutes before he ran around enough to satisfy the sudden fright that made him want to run away.

“Lana, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Clark said and his tone was as pitiful as his expression. Keeping half her attention on the horse that was slowing to a trot, Lana didn’t see Clark’s anxious expression, nor did she take his apologetic tone into account. “I…just came over to wish you luck today.” Clark’s words echoed in Lana’s head like an annoying nursery rhyme. He’s always doing things like this! “Clark,” Lana exhaled sharply, keeping her back to him. “Why did you come over?”

Clark cleared his throat, and said uncomfortably, “I thought you knew I was here and…”

“Why wouldn’t I know you were here? You’re always right there Clark! Every time I turn around, you’re right there! Whenever I’m not in the confines of my own home, there you are!” Lana turned around to yell at him. “When you started to go out with Chloe, I got a break for a little while, but here you are starting to do it all over again. You look for any little excuse to get me to talk to you, or you’re staring at me from the other side of the room. You’re starting to make me think you’re stalking me!”

With that, Lana turned around, but almost walked straight into Pete’s chest. The shocked look she saw on his face made her realize what a mistake she’d just made. Nothing she’d said to Clark was true at all. Maybe a year ago she’d felt like he was always staring and following her around, but not now. Immediately her anger melted away into regret and she turned around to apologize to Clark. It was too late though. She caught sight of him walking quickly away from her, shoulders squared and spine stiff as though trying to maintain some kind of dignity despite the harsh wound to his ego. “Clark!” she called out, trying to make him come back but didn’t try to chase after him, because there was no possibility she could catch up. “Pete, I didn’t mean it!”

Pete shot a dark look at her in answer, and then jogged off to catch up with Clark, hoping to calm him down. Can’t believe she said all that to him. After everything he’s done for her, all the times he fixed things here or at the Talon, and he saved her life at least twice that I know of. I’d stay back there and give her an earful, but I got a bad feeling that Clark’s gonna do something stupid if I don’t catch up with him.

“Clark!” Pete called as he jogged after his friend. “Wait up!”

~*~

Pete really didn’t know what to expect from Clark. His friend had had a bad start to the day, and now it had been compounded by Lana’s little outburst. If Clark was grouchy before, he was going to be downright moody now.

Pete sighed heavily and broke into a jog after his demoralized buddy. They’d been through bad times before, and Pete was sure they could get through this together. “Man, this is nothing compared to fighting off a crazed maniac with a crossbow in the Colorado snow drifts!” He spoke to no one in particular as he hurried after Clark, a thin vapor trail ebbing from the corners of his mouth as the frigid December air made its presence felt. “Clark! Just where do you think you’re going?”

Pete looked across the open grazing field that Clark had almost traversed, and swiftly realized his friend was moving at quite a pace. He didn’t appear to have any real direction in mind, but who did when they’d just had their butt chewed out by the one and only Lana Lang? Clark didn’t dote on her anymore, but her sharp and unnecessary words had cut deeply into his already wounded pride.

Pete picked up his own pace, and soon found he was panting as he was forced to sprint to keep the distance between them from growing. “Hey, wait up! Are you trying to break a world record?”

They’d both left the perimeter of Nell’s property now, and were on a stretch of abandoned land that just seemed to grow wild. If anyone owned it, they hadn’t laid claim to it in fifty years or more. Pete scowled as his foot caught in a gnarled and decaying section of tree stump and he almost stumbled. The earth was so covered in weeds and couch grass it was difficult to be sure where to put each new footstep for fear of tripping over some hidden obstacle.

Eventually, Pete felt his boot slip precariously one last time and stopped, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. “That’s it! I’m not going to break my neck for you, Kent!”

The harsh use of his last name hit Clark like a Kryptonite bullet. Pete Ross never called him that. In fact, only a few abusive students and the odd irked teacher ever did, save for Chloe of course. He stopped mid stride and let out a breath, attempting to calm his extremely rattled nerves before turning around. “Pete, just leave me alone!”

“Clark, come on! You know by next week all this will be forgotten! Lana’s just nervous about this equestrian thing.” Pete slowly stepped forward. He didn’t smile, but tried instead to look optimistic. Yeah, right, Ross. What the heck does an optimistic expression look like anyway?

As Pete moved forward, Clark edged backwards. This wasn’t the time or place for his friend to play psychiatrist on him, and the closer Pete got, the more chance there was he’d give in and open up about everything. Talking wasn’t the solution to this, solitude was. Maybe I should use my speed and get some space to think? “I really don’t want to talk…”

“Clark?” Pete Ross opened his mouth, and all that came out was the weak sound of his friend’s name. One minute Clark had been grousing that he didn’t want to discuss things, the next he was gone. Pete’s lips moved, but at first his shocked brain couldn’t comprehend what had happened, even though his own eyeballs had been witness to the occasion.

Clark had vanished but not quite into thin air. Pete yelled again, this time though his voice was stronger. “CLARK!” Adrenalin fuelled panic kicked in and he rushed forward, abruptly unaware of any dangers concealed beneath the overabundance of vegetation. “CLARK!”

It was a surreal moment. The faster Pete pushed his legs, the further away the spot Clark had been standing on seemed to appear. Not that Pete could get to the exact spot, because it was no longer in existence. “CLARK!” The teenager’s voice was so high pitched it might have been a scream if his lungs had had enough air left in them.

In the end, Pete recognized his mistake and stopped his anguished cries. As he grew close it was frighteningly clear what had occurred, and screeching his head off wouldn’t help. When Clark had stepped backwards, something beneath his feet had succumbed to his burly physique, and the ground had totally given way. In the place Clark had been standing, there was now a hole.

Pete dropped down onto his knees and leaned forward as far as he dared. The edges of the newly made opening appeared to be wooden, or at least had once been wooden. Now, the cracked and broken beams were nothing more than termite infested timbers that were like some Venus flytrap to whoever walked on them.

Over the years, perhaps even decades, the joists had been covered by the encroaching flora and wildlife until they were a manmade death trap just waiting to happen.

Pete squirmed slightly, wondering if he too was sitting on the eroding wooden girders lurking beneath the soil. What am I even thinking! Clark’s down there! He wouldn’t ever consider himself in a situation like this! With the thought came a memory he really didn’t like. Just for a second, I could have sworn I heard Clark scream out before he fell. So if my mind isn’t playing tricks, why isn’t he shouting for help right now?

Shaking from shock and fear, Pete pushed his body slowly nearer to the opening so that he could peer down into the chasm. Beneath his trembling body he felt sure something moved--or was it just his imagination? It was like a small tremor, but it seemed to cease when he paused at the breach in the timbers.

“Clark?” He called again, his urgent timbre beseeching that his friend respond.

He squinted down the shaft, forcing his pupils to work overtime, but all that he could discern were the crumbling earth walls, filled with protruding roots from a myriad of long dead shrubbery.

Clark didn’t feel like he had time to reply. As soon as the ground had disintegrated below him, he’d known he was in serious trouble. The surprise was one thing, but the shock that he was helpless was the worst fear he’d ever had to endure. The teen’s normally invulnerable body was finding out at last that there was something even he couldn’t escape from, and that was gravity. He was on a one way, spiralling trip downward, and there was no elevator ride back up to the top.

When the wood crumbled, Clark discovered he was tumbling down some kind of shaft at an alarming rate. Any kind of beams which had once shored up the walls were either long gone, or black with eroding mold from years in the wet soil. That meant all he had to try and grab onto were the rotting plant roots that weren’t capable of holding any real weight. He tried anyway, and as expected the brittle stems disintegrated in his panicked grasp.

In desperation, Clark attempted the only other idea he could think of, and stopped any sudden moves at all. Without his flailing limbs churning the already loose earth, his plunge into the unknown slowed, and after a few seconds he hit a small, crumbling ledge that had been formed by shifts in the underground water tables.

Clark held still, terrified to move a muscle in case he started another underground avalanche. Sods of earth dropped from above in abundance, splattering on his already grimy face in a warning shower he dare not ignore. Eventually, the rain of soil ceased and Clark carefully lifted his head. His surroundings were in darkness, but he still had his x-ray vision if nothing else. From what he could tell, the vertical tunnel wasn’t much wider than his body in most places, although some parts below had collapsed in altogether. If I drop again, will the cave ins stop my fall?

He risked looking skyward, and was rewarded with a narrow ray of sunlight that at least illuminated the distant opening. “Pete!” Clark was certain his hollow sounding cry had caused a mini vibration to the ledge he was precariously held on. “Pete, I need a rope! It’s not stable down here!”

Clark hadn’t even finished speaking when he sensed the ridge give way. The earth was just too loose to ever support his weight. The feeling that he had absolutely nothing to stop his descent was like some extreme bungee jump. His stomach churned and he was suddenly reminded of his irrational fear of heights. I’m not gonna fall! I won’t fall!

Clark stiffened and rammed his arms outwards like two horizontal pistons, using his gifts to try and secure his body until help could arrive. Both his forearms slammed into the earthy walls far too easily though, and from the way the dirt was shifting, Clark knew he didn’t have long before his temporary body-anchor was of little use.

“Pete, hurry!”