Clark stood at the entrance of the house for a few more moments, looking out into the horizon as the sound of Lex's car faded into the distance.
He climbed the porch steps calmly, his expression a bit more serious now. Martha and Jonathan were talking, but when Clark approached, they turned to him, sensing that something important was about to be said.
"Dad, Mom, I need to tell you something."
Martha, always attuned to her son's mood, leaned forward slightly, with a curious look. Jonathan, on the other hand, crossed his arms, waiting for what was coming.
"What is it, Clark?" Martha asked softly, already anticipating that there was something more serious at play.
"I wrote a book," Clark finally broke the silence on the porch.
Martha's eyes widened in surprise, and a smile slowly formed on her lips.
"A book? Oh, Clark, that's amazing!"
"When did you have time to write a book, son? And why didn't you tell us before?" Jonathan asked, clearly surprised, his brow furrowing.
"I wanted to tell you, Dad, but things happened fast," Clark explained. "Lex helped me publish the book through his company, and tomorrow an article about the release will be in the paper."
"Lex? So you've been working with Lex on this project without telling us?" Jonathan continued, his voice full of concern.
"Dad, I just wanted to do something for myself," Clark said, trying to stay calm. "I trust Lex to handle the publishing part. I needed this opportunity."
"I always knew you had talent for so many things. Writing a book is a wonderful achievement!" Martha exclaimed, her face lighting up with pride.
"Yes, but working with Lex without telling us? You know how complicated he can be," Jonathan said, clearly bothered. "I don't like the idea of you getting involved in the Luthors' business."
"I understand your concern, Dad," Clark said, looking directly at Jonathan. "But I made this decision because I believe in the project."
"If this is your dream, son, I'll support you," Jonathan said, sighing and shaking his head. "Just be careful with Lex."
"I promise I'll be careful," Clark responded, a relieved smile appearing on his face.
"We're very proud of you, Clark," Martha added, giving her son a hug. "This book is just the beginning of what you can achieve."
"Thanks, Mom," Clark said, smiling as he felt the support from his parents.
With that, the weight of the conversation lifted, and the evening on the Kent farm porch became lighter.
...
The next day, Clark arrived at the Smallville Convalescence Center. The place was quiet, with few visitors in the morning. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees as he walked toward the entrance.
As Clark walked down the silent hallway, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.
Bzzzz... Bzzzz...
He pulled out his phone and saw Chloe's name on the screen. Clark sighed before answering the call.
"You didn't even tell me there was going to be an article about your book!" Chloe exclaimed the moment Clark picked up. "I only saw it when I got to school. And you didn't say anything! How could you choose today of all days to do your community service?"
"I know, Chloe," Clark said, trying to stay calm. "Things happened quickly, and I wanted to tell you earlier, but I have to do this service today. I promise we'll talk more about it later, okay?"
"You and your excuses," Chloe replied, clearly frustrated but with a hint of humor in her voice. "Alright, Clark. But only because you're on duty with the elderly today."
"Exactly," Clark responded, smiling slightly. "I'm a responsible citizen, fulfilling my obligation."
"Whatever you say, Clark. Talk to me later, okay?" Chloe said, still a bit annoyed but willing to let the subject drop for now.
"Will do," Clark said, ending the call.
He pocketed his phone and took a deep breath. The truth was, he was trying to handle a few problems ahead of time, and visiting the Convalescence Center was part of that.
.....
Clark walked down the quiet hallway, feeling the calm and peaceful atmosphere of the center.
Knock, knock!
Clark gently knocked on the door of Harry's room before entering. As the door opened, the room revealed an elderly man sitting in an armchair with a nearly burnt-out cigarette between his trembling fingers. Harry Volk's face was lined with the wrinkles of time, and his gaze was one of pure impatience.
"Who are you?" Harry grumbled, not taking his eyes off the cigarette. "If you're here to lecture me about quitting smoking, you can leave. I've heard enough of that for today."
Clark stepped inside the room, keeping his tone calm.
"I'm Clark Kent. I'm here to help as part of my community service," he said, observing the old man attentively. "I just want to talk for a bit."
Harry scoffed, frowning as he flicked the cigarette into the ashtray beside him.
"Another one of these volunteer kids," he muttered, unenthused. "You all think you can change the world, but you can barely change your own life."
Clark moved closer, unfazed by Harry's words.
"You're so old that if you raised your hand to the sky, God would pull you up," Clark said with a sarcastic smile, maintaining his composure.
"Funny, huh? Don't think you can impress me with those little jokes, kid," Harry responded, his grumpy tone more evident.
"I'm not here to impress anyone, Harry. I just want to help, even if you don't believe that right now," Clark said, his voice soft but firm.
Harry rolled his eyes, pulling another cigarette from the pack on the table. "Help? That's what they all say. The world doesn't need help, kid. It's already lost."
Clark watched as the old man lit the cigarette with his trembling hands, and a thought quickly passed through his mind.
"You may think that, but sometimes help comes in unexpected ways," Clark said, staring intently at Harry.
Harry took a drag on the cigarette, barely paying attention, until Clark moved closer and, in a nearly imperceptible motion, gently placed his hand on Harry's head.
"What are you doing?" Harry grumbled, but his voice became distant as Clark began to use his mental powers.
Harry's mind, once agitated and full of vices, began to yield under Clark's control. Clark delicately tampered with Harry's memories, removing any desire for cigarettes and planting a new suggestion, a clear and undeniable command.
'You can never go near the lake again. Never.'
Clark adjusted Harry's memories and behavior, ensuring that when he woke, he would no longer have any desire to smoke and, more importantly, would never approach the lake, where something dangerous could happen.
Harry blinked a few times, confused, as Clark slowly removed his hand.
"What... what were you saying again, kid?" Harry asked, his mind feeling lighter, though he couldn't identify what had changed.
"I was saying that we all have a chance to improve, Harry. And you don't need anything else holding you back," Clark said, giving a small smile.
Harry looked at the cigarette in the ashtray, now uninterested in it—something he had never felt before. He extinguished the cigarette without even finishing it.
"Maybe... maybe you're right, kid," Harry murmured, still confused but clearly less grumpy than before.
Clark stood up, satisfied with the outcome. 'One less problem,' he thought as he walked toward the door.
"I'll come back to see you, Harry. Take care," Clark said, calmly leaving the room, knowing he had done what he needed to do.
Clark walked down the hallway, feeling a sense of control. Now that Harry was out of the way, he could focus on the next steps of his plan.
...
At school, Pete and Chloe were walking together through the halls, chatting excitedly about Clark's book. Both were still surprised that Clark had kept his writing abilities a secret.
"So, did you know Clark was writing a book this whole time?" Pete asked, laughing as he looked at Chloe. "I had no clue. How did he hide this from us?"
Chloe shook her head, smiling. "Clark can be really secretive when he wants to. But honestly, I'm so proud of him. Publishing a book is a huge accomplishment, even if he didn't tell us beforehand."
"I agree. But he's definitely going to have to explain himself when we see him again. This was a huge surprise!" Pete said, still chuckling at the situation.
As they talked, Jodi Melville, a typically shy and quiet classmate, approached with a smile on her face.
"Hey, Pete," Jodi said timidly, waving as she approached. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Lana's party tonight."
Pete raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden invitation, but soon smiled. "Lana's party? I didn't even know she was having one."
"Yeah, it's going to be a small gathering, just for a few close friends," Jodi explained, looking a bit nervous. "I thought it would be nice if you came."
Chloe, standing next to Pete, nudged him slightly, smiling. "Go for it, Pete. Sounds like it'll be fun."
Pete glanced at Chloe, who was clearly encouraging him to accept the invitation. He then turned to Jodi and smiled back.
"Sure, Jodi. I'd love to go," Pete said, accepting the invitation. "It'll be great."
Jodi's face lit up at Pete's response. "Great! See you there, then." She gave a small wave before walking away, leaving Pete and Chloe to continue their conversation.
Chloe smiled, clearly happy for Pete. "Looks like you've got a date tonight, Pete."
Pete laughed, shaking his head. "I don't know if it's exactly a date, Chloe, but it'll be fun. And who knows what might happen?"
The two headed to their next classes, with Chloe feeling happy for her friend and excited to see what the night would bring for both of them.
To read 7 chapters ahead, go to
pat reon.com/22Mirko22