Flirting is one of life’s pleasures that never seems to get old.
Unfortunately, we tend to discover it a little too late, because successful flirting eventually leads to living together, and once that happens, where’s the fun in flirting?
I love life, and I appreciate its pleasures.
So I kept flirting with Lana all the way to the stable.
Even after we got there, I lingered for a while, helping put out feed for the horses, carrying water, and moving bales of hay around.
I stayed until the girl finally headed home.
After saying goodbye to her, I ran home.
Just an easy, relaxed jog.
Why?
First, I still had energy to spare.
Second, running was faster than walking.
Third, why the hell not?
Who was going to stop me from running through the fields?
The incident with Lana’s horse wouldn’t leave my mind.
I couldn’t understand it.
How had I been able to run that fast?
More importantly, I had a feeling I could run even faster.
Much faster.
But what exactly did “much faster” mean?
How much faster was much faster?
And how was I supposed to find out?
Although, that was a stupid question.
Obviously, I just had to run.
I was already running, so I simply had to run faster.
Faster and faster until I finally found my limit.
So I accelerated.
Then I kept accelerating.
And accelerating…
But I never found my limit.
I didn’t understand.
I didn’t understand at all.
How was this possible?
How could I run, how could I move at such an incredible speed that the entire world literally seemed to freeze around me?
Literally.
I had just run across the entire state and back in a couple of minutes.
What the hell?
I slowed down and stopped, but my mind couldn’t process what had just happened.
There was no reasonable explanation.
None.
I had spent my previous life as an ordinary human being.
I’d never been an athlete, and I’d never possessed extraordinary physical abilities.
Yet now I had just crossed an entire state on foot in minutes.
Something was very, very wrong.
Or very, very right.
I had no idea which.
“God, what the hell is happening?!”
I finally shouted at the sky.
I was standing on the same bridge where I’d jumped after Lex the day before.
I was so overwhelmed that I grabbed the railing without even thinking.
The metal bent beneath my fingers.
Steel crumpled in my hand like warm plastic.
That finally broke me.
My brain simply shut down.
It needed a reboot.
*
*
*
I don’t know how long it took me to regain my composure and start properly processing reality again.
I only know that eventually I found myself back on the same hill where I’d been that morning, going through one Tai Chi form after another.
It was a good activity.
It had always helped me calm down and clear my head of unnecessary thoughts, and it worked this time too.
Although it took more than four hours.
Still, by the end of it, peace had returned to my mind.
Which meant it was time for me to return home.
***
Dinner was quiet.
Extremely quiet.
My parents barely said anything beyond the necessary household phrases.
“Dear, could you pass me the salt?”
“Honey, do you want some more omelet?”
That sort of thing.
There was a slightly oppressive feeling hanging over the table.
It seemed obvious that, while I had been gone, my parents had had a serious conversation.
A conversation where they hadn’t managed to reach an agreement, but hadn’t gotten into a fight either.
And judging by the brief looks they exchanged, as well as the occasional glance in my direction, I was clearly involved.
Not just involved.
Probably at the center of it.
After dinner, I went to “my” barn.
I wasn’t tired enough to sleep, and I needed something to occupy my hands.
Something that would keep them busy without forcing my brain to work.
Wood carving was good for that.
It had been dark for a long time, and the sky was filled with stars.
I didn’t turn on the lights.
For some reason, I could see the piece of wood and the knife perfectly well without them.
Well, one more strange thing wasn’t going to make much difference at this point.
I kept working.
Then my father approached.
“Son, this morning I said we needed to talk…”
“I’m listening, Dad.”
I nodded without looking up from my work.
Slowly, a beautiful woman’s face was emerging from the oak block beneath my knife and carving tools.
It looked remarkably similar to the face of a certain girl named Lana Lang.
Well.
I supposed that was part of the body’s inheritance.
It didn’t bother me.
I’d accepted my feelings for the girl as my own too.
At least for now, I couldn’t see anything wrong with that.
Being in love felt good.
Although that particular pleasure came dangerously close to masochism.
Anyone who had ever been in love would probably agree with me.
“Clark, you know you’re adopted, right?”
Jonathan paused.
“That Martha and I aren’t your biological parents?”
“You’re just my parents,” I corrected him.
“A mother isn’t the one who gives birth.
She’s the one who raises you.”
Jonathan smiled and accepted the correction.
“Perhaps it’s time you learned something about your biological parents.”
“Interesting opening.”
I smirked.
“Intriguing.
Go on.”
“This belonged to them.”
Jonathan reached into something and carefully unfolded a cloth.
Inside was a strange metal object covered with unfamiliar symbols.
I put down my carving knife and took it from him.
It looked vaguely like an external hard drive for a laptop.
It practically screamed that it was supposed to be inserted into some kind of slot.
“What does it say?”
“I don’t know.”
Jonathan shrugged.
“They were…”
He hesitated.
“Not from around here.”
“Really?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Where were they from?”
Jonathan went silent.
Then he looked meaningfully toward the small patch of night sky visible through the barn window.
I stared at him.
Then I laughed.
“So you’re subtly suggesting…”
I pointed upward.
“The stars?
Another planet?”
I decided to play along with the joke.
“And what, my spaceship is hiding in the attic?”
“Um…”
Jonathan gave me a complicated look.
“Not the attic.”
He paused.
“The basement.”