Superman

by Matt De La Peña

  Clark found the two of them in front of their stand, staring down the road. “You guys saw that, too?”

  Carlos put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Is very dangerous.”

  “Do you know what kind of car it was?” Cruz asked Clark. “It wasn’t shaped like a Lamborghini. Maybe an Aston Martin? Or a Maserati?”

  Clark shrugged. “It wasn’t a Ford F-150, that’s for sure.”

  “I heard a Maserati can go one-eighty, easy. Do you know how sick that is? I’d probably get a speeding ticket every day.” Cruz was in awe of anything flashy and American. Fancy cars. Big, gaudy houses. Blockbuster movies and celebrity gossip. Clark knew from talking to the kid over the years that he longed to one day leave the fruit and vegetable stand behind. To get out of Kansas and pursue a career that would give him a shot at some sort of fame.

  Carlos flicked his son’s ear good-naturedly and motioned for him to get back to work. Cruz rolled his eyes, then went over to a table of green apples and began rearranging them.

  Seeing Carlos and Cruz made Clark think of Gloria. They were related. She’d even spent the summer after her freshman year working at the stand. “I’m curious,” he said, recalling what Gloria had told him at school. “Do you guys know anything about…people disappearing?”

  Carlos picked a dead leaf off a tomato. “Oh, yes, of course,” he said, nodding. “But some young people…” He turned to his son and said something in Spanish.

  Cruz listened to his dad before turning to Clark. “My dad says people are making high wages with the Mankins Corporation. More money than they’ve ever had. And some of them go to Metropolis to gamble and buy things. He says it’s a very bad idea.” Cruz grinned and said in a quieter voice, “Personally, I don’t see how making a little cash is so wrong. I’ve been thinking about working for Mankins myself.”

  Carlos said something else to Cruz, who then turned to Clark, adding, “He’s keeping his eyes open, though. He’s not sure how safe it is for us in Smallville right now.” Cruz glanced at his dad before telling Clark, “Me, though? I’m not scared of anyone. I say, ‘Bring it.’ ”

  Clark appreciated the kid’s audacity. “What about the police?” he asked, thinking of the proposed law. “They’re not randomly stopping anyone, are they?”

  Carlos looked genuinely bewildered. “No, no. It is the same as before with them.”

  This assurance made Clark feel relieved. “All right, then.” He saluted his friends. “See you guys around.”

  The three of them smiled and waved, and Clark continued down the open road.

  * * *

  —

  About a half mile later, just as Clark was passing the big white church that stood alongside the highway, he heard the hum of the red sports car coming up behind him. He stopped and turned around, readying himself for more static. But when it got close to Clark this time, the driver hit the brakes, and the car screeched to a stop beside him.

  It sat there idling for several seconds, smoke rising up off the tires.

  Clark tried to peer through the passenger-side window, but the tint was so dark that he couldn’t see a thing. And when he tried to use his newfound X-ray vision, nothing happened. He knew that a normal person would feel fear at this point, but he’d never been very good at fear. He was mostly just curious. The car definitely looked expensive. He didn’t even recognize the logo on the front grille. Whoever was inside had to be rich—and wanted everyone to know it.

  “You just gonna hide in there all day?” Clark shouted.

  The passenger-side window began slowly motoring down, and Bryan Mankins poked his head out. “Clark,” he called. “You okay? I tried to tell Lex not to buzz you like that.”

  “Bryan?” Clark looked past him, to the driver’s side and this Lex guy. But he couldn’t get a good view. “You almost ran me over.”

  Bryan smiled uncomfortably. “Sorry, man. He thinks shit like that’s funny. But I made him come back so we could offer you a ride.”

  “I’m fine walking,” Clark said, irritated.

  Bryan mumbled something to the driver before turning back to Clark. “Seriously, hop in. We’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  Clark hesitated at first. He didn’t even know Bryan. Or this Lex joker. And he definitely didn’t appreciate the stunt they’d pulled earlier. On the other hand, he was a little curious about the car. “I’m going to the library downtown,” he said.

  “Shit, man, we’re headed in that direction anyway. Come on.”

  Clark climbed past Bryan, into the cramped back seat. He took off his backpack and set it in his lap and latched his seat belt. Then he glanced at the driver, Lex, by way of the rearview mirror. He was a young white guy, not much older than Clark and Bryan, but he was dressed like some kind of important businessman. A sport coat and collared shirt. He had wavy hair and wore a pair of expensive-looking designer sunglasses.

  He was the kind of guy Lana might describe as good-looking.

  He was the kind of guy Clark would describe as soft.

  The inside of the car was every bit as showy as the outside. Leather seats. Digital everything. A massive touch screen that took up more than half the dash. It was the nicest ride Clark had ever seen. Actually, it seemed more like a spaceship than anything else. He wondered if it was one of those cars that could drive themselves.

  “This the guy who saved you?” Lex asked, nudging Bryan. He clearly owned the car. He seemed totally at home behind the wheel of such an expensive-looking vehicle.

  “This is him.” Bryan turned to Clark. “What’s your last name again?”

  “Kent. Clark Kent.”

  Bryan nodded. “That’s right. Clark Kent, I’d like you to meet my buddy Lex Luthor.” He tapped the driver on the arm. “Lex, meet Clark.”

  Lex hit the gas.

  The three of them were thrown back into their seats as the car accelerated at an insane rate. Bryan spun around wide-eyed and looked at Clark. “You ever felt that kind of power?” he shouted over the wind whipping through his open window.

  “It’s pretty fast,” Clark said, marveling at the quiet engine. He’d reached speeds like this on foot, but never as the passenger in a car. It felt strange to relinquish control.

  Lex took his foot off the gas and let the car slowly decelerate. “The library, you said?”

  “If it’s cool,” Clark told him.

  Lex motioned toward Bryan. “You save this guy’s life, you earn a free ride.”

  “Thanks,” Clark said. “But I didn’t actually save anyone.”

  “I already told you,” Bryan said to Lex. “Guy refuses to take credit.”

  Lex glanced at Clark in the rearview again. “So what happened?”

  Clark knew he had to set the record straight before any rumors got started. “I was just working the farm with my dad, and…we both saw the helicopter coming down, so we took off.” He tapped Bryan on the shoulder. “Is everyone okay?”

  Bryan nodded. “Didn’t even have to keep that sling on my arm.”

  Clark sat back, relieved. “I guess we were all pretty lucky.”

  “Luck. Yeah, that’s probably it.” Lex accelerated around a rumbling big rig. “Kind of like you got lucky on the football field during your freshman year, right? From what I read, you scored thirty-three touchdowns in six games? I guess you’re, like, blessed with luck.”

  Clark was shocked that some fancy-car-driving rich dude could quote his football stats.

  Bryan turned to face Clark. “Jesus, is that true?”

  Clark shrugged. “I guess I didn’t like getting tackled. So I ran. Fast as I could. Anyway, it was only freshman football.”

  “Why aren’t you still playing? The team was bad this year, right? And aren’t they usually pretty good?”

  “Yeah.” Clark tapped his backpack. “
But I’m better off hitting the books. That whole concussion thing’s pretty scary.”

  Bryan turned back to Lex. “How’d you know his stats?”

  Lex grinned. “There’s this new thing out there called the internet, Bry. You should try it sometime.”

  Bryan grinned. “Dude, you must have a lot of time on your hands if you’re browsing freshman football stats from two years ago.”

  Lex cracked a smile but never took his eyes off the road. “Eh, I Google everyone. When you told me what Clark did, of course I looked him up.”

  Bryan looked over his shoulder at Clark and rolled his eyes. “That’s not creepy at all. Anyway, Clark, you gotta be pretty strong to punch it into the end zone that many times. What was your secret? Just lifting weights every day? Shoveling cow shit on the farm?”

  Clark shrugged. He knew Bryan was just messing around, but he’d never really loved farm jokes. At least from outsiders, that is. Actual farm kids could make as many country-bumpkin jokes as they wanted. That’s just how it worked. “I went to the gym a few times, I guess,” Clark said. “But mostly it’s my mom’s home cooking. She’s all about meat and potatoes.”

  “I need to change my diet,” Bryan said, squeezing his right bicep through his shirt. “Tuna tartare isn’t doing me any favors.”

  Truth was, Clark had stopped lifting back in ninth grade. Once he realized it wasn’t necessary. Back then he was fairly thin, too. But his strength had always far exceeded his appearance.

  Bryan started messing with the touch screen on the dash. When he found a hip-hop song on the satellite radio, he turned it up.

  Lex immediately turned it back down. “When we’re in your plane, we can listen to that stuff. But when we’re in my ride, it’s all about hard-core.” He switched stations, and a thrashing rock song came on. He turned the volume low enough so that they could still talk. “You know this guy doesn’t even have a driver’s license, right?” Lex said, glancing at Clark in the rearview.

  “Most people don’t drive in Metropolis,” Bryan said.

  “I drive,” Lex said.

  “Yeah, so you can show off your car.” Bryan turned to Clark. “Normal people take the subway. Or call a car. Or walk. Also, I have a pilot’s license.”

  Clark had heard that Bryan was at a fancy boarding school in Metropolis before finishing the year at Smallville High. Rumor had it that Bryan’s brother, Corey, had graduated from a school in Switzerland, where their dad had gone, too. “So how come you left Metropolis?” Clark asked. It was the question many people had been asking since Bryan showed up so late in the school year. Once they found out who he was.

  Bryan was quiet for several seconds, his face serious.

  Lex glanced at him, as if curious about how he would handle the question.

  “There weren’t many opportunities to fly out there,” Bryan finally said, without looking back at Clark. “Not like there are here. And that’s all I really want to do lately.”

  Clark could tell by Lex’s expression that Bryan hadn’t told the whole truth. But Clark decided not to push it.

  Lex slowed a little as he turned off Highway 22 and onto Main Street. They passed a string of Smallville institutions—Howe’s Coffeehouse, Randy’s Hardware, the Old Winter Saloon—before coming to a stretch of new businesses. The grocery store and pharmacy that had opened during the winter. Java Depot. A Thai restaurant Lana had been wanting to get Clark to try for weeks. A large toy store that was so new it didn’t even have a sign up yet.

  As they passed the large construction site across the street from city hall, Bryan pointed. “There it is,” he said sarcastically. “Home, sweet home.”

  Every time Clark set eyes on the future home of the Mankins Corporation, he was reminded of the man dressed in all brown who had carjacked the SUV and driven it right at Paul. The retaining wall the vehicle had ultimately crashed into was still badly damaged. But now Clark noticed another detail. There were no tire marks in front of that part of the wall. The guy had never hit the brakes. Maybe the wall in front of the new Mankins headquarters really had been his target all along.

  But why?

  “Gotta be almost done now, right?” Lex asked.

  Bryan nodded. “I think they’re gonna do some kind of grand-opening festival in the next week or so. I’m sure it’ll be some big spectacle, but whatever.”

  When Lex pulled the sports car up to the steps, the three of them glanced across the street at city hall, where a dozen or so Mexican men and women were picketing. “What do you guys think about that new law being proposed?” Clark asked. It was definitely a loaded question, but the way these two responded seemed important to him.

  “The stop-and-search thing?” Bryan asked. “It’s brutal. I’ll say this: if something like that can pass here, I know Smallville’s not the town for me.”

  “Yeah, nothing like that would even be proposed in Metropolis,” Lex added. “It’s a small-town thing.”

  Normally Clark felt defensive when someone criticized his hometown, but this was different. Bryan was right; if a law like that could pass in Smallville, it would be embarrassing. So Clark just sat there watching people march silently while holding up their signs. He recognized one of the men from the cattle feed and tractor supply company just outside of town. One woman was a new student teacher at Smallville High. The guy who seemed to be the leader wasn’t much older than Lex. He had a goatee and spiky black hair, and seemed to be directing all their movements.

  “We’ll vote it down,” Clark said, feeling a surge of confidence. “I believe in the people of Smallville.”

  An older white man who was wearing a suit and carrying a shopping bag approached the protesters from across the street. Clark was surprised when he began handing out bottles of water.

  “One of yours?” Lex asked.

  Bryan nodded. “My dad has food sent to them, too. And he’s the one funding that new ‘get out and vote’ campaign.”

  Clark was genuinely impressed that a rich guy like Montgomery Mankins would take an interest in how people less fortunate were being treated. Seemed like it would be easy for the guy to just sit in his ivory tower, counting his money.

  Bryan stepped out of the car and folded down the seat. After Clark climbed out with his backpack, Bryan nudged him in the arm. “Hey, I was thinking. Why don’t you meet up with us tomorrow night at the All-American Diner?”

  Clark was taken aback. “Sure,” he said. “What time?”

  “Seven-thirty?”

  “Okay, cool. See you there.” Clark turned and started toward the library.

  “Hey, Clark!” Bryan called out.

  He turned back around.

  “Try not to pull a muscle in there studying, all right?” Bryan climbed back into his seat and closed the door, and the red sports car sped away.

  Clark watched it rip through the nearest intersection, Lex’s music now blaring out his open window. Bryan hadn’t told Clark why he’d really left Metropolis, and Clark realized he had no idea why Lex was in Smallville either. He definitely didn’t seem like a small-town kind of guy. It seemed like the more he got to know these two, the more questions he had.

  Clark took the stairs two at a time up to the library, where he found Lana waiting for him just inside the front doors. Before he could say anything, she whisked him into an empty quiet room and closed the door. “Okay, spill it,” she said, sitting down at the long conference-style table. She had on a blue sundress Clark didn’t recognize, and she was wearing her hair down. She put away her headphones, saying, “I wanna know everything, Clark.”

  He set his backpack on the table and sat across from her. “About what?”

  She shot him a dirty look.

  For the past couple of years, the library had been Clark and Lana’s spot. It had started soon after Clark quit the football team. Lana had noticed (bec
ause Lana noticed everything) that Clark was feeling lost. Maybe a little lonely. Possibly depressed. So she showed up at his farmhouse one Saturday and said, “Clark Kent, you’re coming with me.” He did. And they’d been here almost every weekend since. He knew the library wasn’t the hippest hangout in the world, but it’s not like they were always doing homework. Sometimes they’d sneak food into a quiet room and gossip while they ate lunch. Or Lana would run news story ideas past him. Or they’d watch random videos on Lana’s tablet.

  But today was no ordinary Saturday. Clark had been involved in the biggest news story of the day, and Lana hated being out of the loop.

  “I take it you heard about the helicopter crash,” he said.

  “Of course I heard about the helicopter crash,” she told him. “I hear about everything that happens in this town. You know that.”

  Clark did. If some freshman kid cheated on his girlfriend at a party, Lana knew. If a herd of hogs got loose on a local farm, Lana knew. Once she even found out that Clark’s dad had been invited to be a panelist at an agriculture and livestock conference at Kansas State before he did.

  “Okay, but first,” he told her, “you won’t believe how I got here today.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t walk?”

  He shook his head. “This guy named Lex drove me here in a fancy red sports car. Bryan Mankins was with him.”

  “Bryan Mankins?” Lana shouted. “The kid who’s barely said two words to anyone since he showed up last month?”

  Clark nodded, putting a finger to his lips. Two older ladies were frowning at them from the stacks just outside their quiet room. But his gesture didn’t do much to stifle Lana’s enthusiasm.

  “You know he got kicked out of his boarding school, right?” she went on at the same volume.

  “Really? What’d he do?”

  “Nobody knows.” Lana shook her head. “And it’s not like he’s a willing source.”