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Season Two: Lineage
Jonathan: You know, she could be late to her own wedding. In fact, she was late to her own wedding.
Season Ten: Beacon
(Martha has just given Lois a necklace)
Martha: When I first came into this house, I was the city girl, and Jonathan's mom was...particular. I didn't think I'd ever measure up to everything she'd been for him his whole life. But on our wedding day, she gave me that necklace and said the thing she couldn't measure was Jonathan's happiness since he'd met me.
Wedding Day Martha wished her father hadn’t been so stubborn. His refusal to even be there for her wedding day had hurt deeply. She knew he didn’t support her marriage to Jonathan, but she loved her farmboy and that wasn’t going to change.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. The dress she’d chosen for the ceremony was white lace and satin with a strapless bodice and layers of tulle over the simple satin skirt. She had decided not to wear gloves, but couldn’t decide whether she should wear the pearl necklace her mother had given her for her twenty-first birthday.
“Are you nervous, sweetheart?” her mother asked.
“A little,” she said. “I wish Dad would come.”
Mary looked saddened. “I know, sweetie. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t even listen to me.”
“He thinks I’m throwing my life away,” Martha said, her tone touched with bitterness.
Her mother sighed. “You and your father are a lot alike,” she said. “Unfortunately that means you tend to clash swords more often than not. You know he just wants the best for you.”
“But I’m old enough to decide what’s best for me,” she argued. “He just thinks he knows better.”
“Darling, I know this is hard. You love your father and it hurts that he won’t support you. But if you want my opinion, I think you’re doing the right thing. You love Jonathan and he loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you. The way his face lights up when he sees you. That is the look of a man in love.”
“Was Dad ever … did he ever …”
Her mother looked away. Martha frowned at her. She had never really seen her father treat her mother with affection, the way Jonathan did with her. She supposed it was because her mother came from a completely different generation that saw love differently.
“Knock knock,” came a voice, and Jessica Kent entered. She paused in the doorway. “Oh my, Martha, don’t you look lovely.”
“Mm, yes she does,” Mary replied. “Darling, I’m just going to check that everything’s all right outside.” She winked at Jessica. “Leave you two to talk.”
Martha watched her mother leave, laughing. Her mother was a funny one sometimes. When she was a child, her mother had often played with her and teased her. William would be left shaking his head at the way they giggled and carried on, but it was their way.
She looked at Jessica, who smiled at her.
“You know, when Jonathan began talking about you, I have to admit I had my doubts. I did think with you being a city girl that our life might not suit you. I’m happy to say that I was wrong. I love my son, Martha. He’s my only child and I suppose that’s made me a little particular when it comes to the young women he’s dated.”
“Mrs Kent …”
Jessica shushed her. “Jessica. Or Mom. After all, I’m going to be your mother-in-law. Or perhaps that should be Monster-in-law,” she added with a wink. Martha giggled.
“Anyway, I have something for you,” Jessica said. “A little wedding gift. Just for you.”
Martha looked at the little box, wondering what was in it. She opened it and saw it was a beautiful antique locket.
“Oh,” she said.
There had been times over the past few months when she had wondered if she could ever measure up to Jessica, who had been Jonathan’s only real female influence his entire life. Jessica clearly sensed that as she smiled.
“I know you worry that you’ll never be what he needs, that you won’t measure up. Let me tell you something Martha Clark. You will be more than that. I’m his mother but you … He’s been so happy since he met you, and to me that’s a sure sign that you belong with him.
“Jonathan can be broody sometimes. He gets that from his father. And I admit I do worry about him sometimes. But I can worry less, now that I know he has you.”
Martha wrapped her arms around the older woman and hugged her.
“Thank you,” she said. Jonathan’s mother helped her put the necklace on and she looked at her reflection. It was perfect.
Jessica left for the church after giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. They’d decided to get married in the Smallville chapel, which was small, but big enough for the amount of people they’d invited.
Her mother had booked them a room at the Smallville Inn, since it was only a few minutes’ drive from the chapel.
Martha once more checked her reflection. Her mother came in.
“Sweetie, we need to get going. We’re late.”
Martha gasped.
“Oh my goodness,” she said. “Jonathan’s probably thinking I’m going to stand him up.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I did the same thing when I married your father. Your grandmother once told me he nearly tore out the door wanting to come and get me.”
Somehow Martha couldn’t imagine her father doing something like that. Still, it was a funny image and she laughed.
Her mother helped her with the veil, which was also tulle, inserting the comb into her red hair, which she’d left down, and arranged it over her face.
“Let’s go, Mom,” Martha said.
Her mother hugged her. “You look beautiful darling. I know you and Jonathan are both going to be very happy together.”
“I love you Mom.”
“I love you too. Now, let’s get going.”
***
Jonathan fidgeted and glanced at his watch. It was one his father had given him when he’d graduated high school.
“She’s late,” he said.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder.
“She’ll be here. Not all of us are trained by roosters, you know.”
Jonathan snorted at his best friend.
“Oh, you’re funny!”
Ethan laughed at both of them. “You’re both nuts,” he said.
Ethan Miller had just recently made deputy in the sheriff’s department. As the rookie, he was expected to cover the worst shifts, but he’d managed to get today off to be there for his friend’s wedding day.
They’d gone to the Wild Coyote the night before, for Jonathan’s last night of freedom, although Jonathan had been careful not to get drunk. Martha would have killed him, he thought with a grin.
His mother came back in. She’d gone to the Inn to see Martha, but hadn’t explained why. She smiled at him and straightened his tie.
“You look so handsome,” she said. “All you boys do.”
“Aw shucks,” Jack said, then grinned. He liked to pretend he was a down-home country boy but Jonathan had to remember that this was the guy who had been caught with the sheriff’s daughter. Both of them.
“Was everything okay when you saw Martha?” Jonathan asked his mother anxiously.
“Everything was fine, sweetie. She’ll be here. She loves you.”
The reverend had gone into his office, but came back out again, smiling.
“Mrs Clark just called and said they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Jonathan smiled back, relieved. His mother nudged him.
“See, I told you.”
It was still a nervous wait until the music began and the door opened. Martha’s mother began walking down the aisle. Behind her were two of Martha’s closest friends from college. And there was Martha, looking so beautiful in white. Jonathan watched, his eyes on his bride. Her own gaze was locked on him and she had a brilliant smile.
How did I get so lucky? he thought.
She took his hand as she reached the altar and together they turned to the reverend.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the presence of God to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.Comment
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Awwww Leanne that was so sweet! Such lovely moments between the two mothers and Martha. Of course it's a pity her Dad didn't show, I can imagine he'd do something like that and that decision would flow on through their lives to eventually affect Clark too.Comment
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Season Nine: Hostage
You know, after the glow of my wedding wore off, I wondered if I'd made a huge mistake following Jonathan to a small town where I didn't fit in. I went from a city socialite headed for law school to being a farmer's wife, marooned on an island of corn.
You can imagine how I felt when I was offered a job interning for a federal judge. I just jumped at the chance. It was such an exciting time in my life.
I came home on a rainy weekend and discovered the river was rising. So I pulled on work boots and went down to the river with Jonathan. And we started throwing sandbags. We worked all night holding back a wall of water. When the sun rose, I got to tell 20 families that it was safe to go home again.
I didn't know what my purpose really was until that rainy day. I just needed to look inside myself.
Period of Adjustment
As much as she loved and adored her new husband, Martha found it difficult adjusting to her new life. She’d gone from life in Metropolis, the possibility of law school, to life in a small town where she knew very few people.
She had begun to wonder whether love would be enough; had she made a big mistake giving up the city to live as a farmer’s wife? Especially in such isolation?
“This was your decision, Martha,” her father told her over the phone. Jonathan was out with his mother buying feed supplies for the animals, so she was alone in the house.
William clearly didn’t understand her dilemma. Of course he wouldn’t, Martha thought. He thought she should never have married Jonathan in the first place.
She rang off, twisting the wedding band around her finger as she turned back to her baking. It was at least the one thing she could do well, even if he was messing everything else up. Let’s face it, she thought as she began rolling out pie crust. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a farmer’s wife.
As the pie went into the oven, she heard the truck pull up and went out to greet her husband. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, brushing the hair back from her face.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she said, ignoring the little jolt in her stomach at the small lie. She didn’t want to tell him that she was unhappy with her life on the farm.
He turned back to the truck and picked up a sack of feed.
“I need to get this inside,” he said, carrying it into the barn.
Jessica seemed to notice her distress.
“Sweetie, why don’t we go inside and let Jonathan work. It looks like it’s going to rain,” she said, looking up at the darkening sky.
She walked with her mother-in-law inside the house and made them some coffee. Jessica sat at the table with her cup and gestured for her to sit down next to her.
“Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on,” she said. “You’re unhappy.”
“Jonathan …” Martha began, feeling a little panicked at the thought that her husband knew of her unhappiness. Jessica patted her hand.
“No, he doesn’t know, and we’re not going to tell him. Sweetheart, no marriage is perfect. You and Jonathan have only been married a few weeks. Trust me, there is always a period of adjustment.”
“I’m just … I worry.”
“Martha, I love my son, but he can be stubborn as a mule sometimes. Don’t think I don’t know when you two have had a fight.”
It had been the stupidest of fights. She had been trying to help on the farm and Jonathan had basically dismissed her, saying he didn’t need her help. She had taken that to mean that he didn’t want the help of someone who didn’t know what she was doing.
“You know, Jonathan’s father could be just as stubborn at times. I think that’s where Jonathan gets it from. He has a certain way of working and woe betide anyone who tries to do it a different way. I think he’s just forgotten that he and his father had the same battles from time to time. It was like they were two sides of the same coin. Sometimes I wanted to knock their heads together.”
“So what do I do?” Martha asked.
“The best advice I can give is to just give it time, sweetie. Jonathan just has to remember that he’s not working this farm alone.”
It was good advice, but Martha knew it was never going to be that easy. While things slowly began to improve on the farm, it wasn’t the same in town. Whenever Jonathan took her shopping, she would notice people in town staring at her, their expressions ranging from curious to disdainful, as if she wasn’t good enough for Jonathan.
“Sweetheart, just ignore them,” Jonathan would tell her, but she couldn’t help feeling like the town pariah. Even after six months of marriage, she was still treated like an outsider.
She finally learned the reason for that when she stopped in at Nell Potter’s flower shop one day. The first time she had gone in there with her husband, Nell had gazed at her with what Martha could only call a condescending smirk, then continued to ignore her, flirting with Jonathan. Nell had opened the shop about a month after they had married.
It was fairly clear that Nell thought Jonathan had made a big mistake in choosing Martha over her, and continued to flirt even when Jonathan told her to stop. That he’d made his choice and that was the end of it.
“Well, Martha,” Nell said. “Where’s that handsome husband of yours?”
“At the feed store,” Martha told her. She tried to keep up a casual conversation with the brunette but Nell quickly lost interest. Martha began looking over the flowers, thinking she should take an arrangement to the hospital for a friend of Jessica’s, who was being treated for a minor complaint.
The bell over the door rang and Martha glanced up, recognising Lewis and Laura Lang, Nell’s sister and brother-in-law. Nell and her sister began talking in low voices, but Martha couldn’t help overhearing her name mentioned. She pretended to continue looking over the arrangements while straining to listen to the conversation. Her mother had always told her she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help it.
The way the conversation was going, she finally understood why people still looked at her as an outsider. It was clear Nell was the source of it all.
When she finally found Jonathan, he was still talking with Jonas Matthews, who ran the feed store. Martha pulled him away and got in the truck.
“Did you know Nell was spreading rumours about me?” she asked.
“Nell wouldn’t do that,” he assured her.
“How would you know? Every time we’re in there, she’s flirting with you.”
“That’s just how she is,” he insisted.
“You don’t get it, Jonathan. She’s telling people all these lies about me. That’s why people still treat me like an outsider.”
“No they don’t,” he replied.
Not wanting it to escalate into a fight, Martha dropped the matter, but she never forgot it. She didn’t want to resent her husband for not seeing his ex-girlfriend for what she was. Besides, he hadn’t married Nell, he’d married her, so who cared what everyone else thought?
Her mother called her late one evening.
“Hi sweetie,” she said.
“Mom. Is everything okay?”
“Of course it is, darling. Why wouldn’t it be?”
She didn’t know what she had thought when she heard her mother’s voice on the phone. It was a rare occasion now when her parents called to speak to her. She supposed that was partly her father’s doing. Ever since the fight with Jonathan he had been growing more and more distant. Jessica assured her that her father would eventually come around - maybe when she had children.
“Your father has some news,” Mary said. “There is a judge who needs an intern, and he thinks you’d be perfect for the job.”
As much as Martha wanted to turn it down, she knew she didn’t want to waste an opportunity. She went for the interview and was hired. Jonathan wasn’t exactly happy about it, but Martha thought that since he didn’t seem to need her on the farm, she might as well do something.
Her husband at least seemed to notice she was a lot happier, even if she was forced to commute to the city every day, but it was fairly clear he wasn’t happy with it.
They began to argue more. Little things began to crop up between them until Martha started to wonder if getting married had been a mistake after all. Even Jessica’s intervention hadn’t helped.
She was tired from driving back and forth to the city all day, and Jonathan was tired from working alone on the farm. They would both fall into bed exhausted every night, barely even speaking to each other.
As winter turned to spring, the snow began to melt, and the rains came. Martha left work early one Friday evening to find Ethan and the other deputies loading sandbags into trucks. She pulled up beside the workers.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Ethan turned and frowned slightly. “Martha, hello. Uh, yeah, the rain’s been pouring all day. Looks like the river’s backing up.”
She nodded, realising if the river was backing up there could be danger of flooding. She drove home, finding a couple of trucks blocking the gravel drive.
“Jonathan?” she called, ignoring the rain pouring down as she ran toward the house. Her husband came out with Jack Jennings.
“Hi sweetheart. They just called a warning over the radio. They need people to help stop the river from flooding. We’re getting some men together and going down to see what we can do.”
Without further comment, Martha ran into the house and quickly changed into jeans and a shirt, putting on a jacket. She would no doubt get soaked, but it was better than those whose homes were at risk of being flooded. Martha grabbed work boots and put them on.
Jonathan was still loading the truck with tools and what appeared to be sacks. He looked at her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m going with you,” she told him. He opened his mouth as if he was going to argue, and she shut him up with a look.
“Jon, we gotta go,” Jack called.
Martha got in the truck in the middle of her husband and his best friend, not commenting as Jonathan drove away from the farm and down to the river where others were already working. The river was swollen and from the look of the sky, it was only going to get worse.
She worked without complaint, even when her hands felt frozen, the skin red, the joints cracking as she helped to lay sandbags to push back the rising waters.
As she continued to work alongside her husband, she couldn’t help but catch the murmurs from the townspeople. Instead of the negative comments she expected, however, she heard nothing but admiration for the way she had just got on with it.
It was a long night and they were all exhausted. Nell and her sister kept up a steady stream of hot coffee, clearly surprised to see Martha there, but not commenting on it.
There were cheers when the rain finally stopped. Even more cheers could be heard when the sun began to rise the next morning. The floodwaters would take some time to recede, but they had done it. Twenty families, whose homes were dotted along the riverbanks, would be able to go home again.
The best part was that Martha had finally managed to break down the walls between her and the rest of the town. She was no longer considered an outsider. She was one of them.
Jonathan hugged her, giving her a passionate kiss.
“You were wonderful, sweetheart,” he said.
She stayed in her husband’s embrace, turning her head to glance at Nell, who stood watching them with an unreadable expression. Martha didn’t care. Smallville was her home now.Comment
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Oh Leanne I love your take on that story! I think small towns the world over can be just like Smallville, I know the town my folks retired to was, you'd forever be a 'blow in' unless you were born and bred there. Of course malicious rumour mongers like Nell don't help. But like the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.Comment
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One thing I did hate about Nell was the way she treated Martha. You get a hint of it in the pilot and knowing that Jonathan and Nell used to date in high school made it ten times worse, so that was what I came up with for the difficulties in the marriage.
I'm just about to post another story in this. I guess I got inspired this weekend.Comment
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Notes: I don't know when Jonathan's mother died, so I'm making up my own date. In this story, she dies around 1987. I'm also taking a little poetic licence with the quote below. I just felt there was more to what they were going through at that point in their lives.
Season Three: Exile
Since when have our lives been fair anyway, huh? You remember the day we found out we couldn't have children? You grabbed my hand and you told me not to worry. You said that we would have happy days again, and you were right.
Devastating Diagnosis
1986
Jonathan couldn’t believe he and Martha had just celebrated four years of marriage. It seemed as if time had passed so quickly, yet their marriage was as strong as ever. Sure, they’d had a few bumps along the way, but they had eventually learned how to get over those little hurdles and make it a true partnership.
One of the things he’d had to learn was to let Martha find her own rhythm in the farm work, rather than do things his way. His mother had once told him that just because he’d done something his way his entire life, it didn’t mean someone else’s way was not as good. He had learned a tough lesson that first year when Martha had tried to help out on the farm, only for him to yell at her when he felt she was doing it wrong.
He whistled as he walked across the fields, watching her as she drove the tractor, her red hair gleaming in the summer sun. She seemed so much at peace when she was out in the field.
She spotted him watching her and drove toward him. He grinned and waved, waiting at the gate as she approached.
“Hi,” she said, jumping off the tractor and running to him.
Her red hair flew in the breeze. She was wearing a short-sleeved white top that seemed to give her skin a glow. God, how did he get so lucky? he thought.
“Hi sweetheart,” he said, reaching for her to kiss her. “What are you doing?”
“Oh nothing much. You’re all sweaty,” she said, running her hand across his chest.
“It’s hot.”
“Mm, I think we could both do with some nice cold lemonade, don’t you?”
He bent and kissed her again. “You read my mind, sweetheart.”
Together, they walked across the drive toward the house. Just as they sat down on the porch with some lemonade, his mother’s car pulled up. Jonathan frowned as she got out, her gait slow. She had gone for her usual check up a few days earlier and the doctor’s office had called, asking her to come in.
“Mom?” he said, going toward her. “What’s wrong?”
His mother looked up. She seemed shaken, her face pale.
“Oh, hi, sweetie,” she said, trying to sound bright.
“Mom?” Martha called, moving to stand beside him.
“Is that lemonade?” Jessica said faintly.
“I’ll get you a glass,” Martha replied, taking her hand and leading her to the porch.
The two women sat down on the porch swing.
Jonathan looked at his mother worriedly.
“Mom? What did the doctor say?”
She bit her lip, then sighed. “It’s cancer. I have breast cancer.”
“Oh, Mom, no,” Martha said, sounding upset.
“There must be something they can do,” Jonathan said hesitantly.
His mother shook her head. “All they can do is operate,” she said.
He didn’t voice what they were all thinking. They couldn’t really afford the huge medical bills that were bound to crop up. Even to remove her breast was an expensive surgery. But she was his mother and if it could save her life, he would do anything.
“We’ll work it out,” he told Martha in bed that night.
Martha held him comfortingly. “Of course we will,” she said. He heard the worry in her tone, knowing she was thinking of their finances. The farm had never really been profitable, but they could scrape by.
***
Martha didn’t want to say anything to her husband, but she had considered going out and trying to get another job. She had quit the internship with the judge after the night of the flood, and while she was happy on the farm, she wondered if there was something else she could do to help with the family finances.
Still, she knew from experience that Jonathan would stubbornly refuse to let her get a job, even if it was for an office in town. He didn’t like other people knowing their business, and if she did get a job in town then people would know they were struggling financially.
She watched him over the next few days as he drove his mother back and forth to the hospital. She was booked for surgery in a week. While he tried to put a brave face on it, she could tell he was devastated by the diagnosis. He’d already lost his father, now he was afraid of losing his mother too.
It was all right for her, Martha thought. She still had both her parents living, even if her father refused to talk to her. Her mother at least called a couple times a month, but she had always been close to her father as a little girl and she sometimes resented the fact they were no longer close.
Despite the surgery, Jessica seemed to get paler and thinner as time wore on. Jonathan continued on as if it wasn’t happening, but Martha knew it was just his way of coping with it.
She wished she could get pregnant so they could at least have something good to look forward to. Their neighbours, the Langs, announced that Laura was pregnant and around November of that year, Laura gave birth to a beautiful little girl. Martha did her duty of cooing over the infant, but still felt the pangs of envy. She and Jonathan had been married over four years and they still had no child.
Deciding she needed to do something about it, Martha made an appointment with her gynaecologist.
Jonathan frowned at her when she told him what the appointment was for.
“Sweetheart, we don’t need to …”
“I need to,” she told him. “For my own peace of mind.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” he said.
True to his word, he went with her to the appointment. The doctor listened to her concerns, then booked her for some tests. Jonathan went with her to those as well, holding her hand as the doctor performed an internal exam.
A few days later, he called her back.
“It’s not good news, I’m afraid,” he said. “Martha, have you heard of endometriosis?”
She glanced at Jonathan, who looked just as puzzled as she was.
The doctor showed them a picture.
“This is a normal woman’s uterus, and this is yours. Endometriosis is, put simply, tissue growth outside of your uterus. Unfortunately, in the majority of cases, it causes infertility. I could go into a long-winded explanation, but I don’t think you really need to hear that. I’m sorry, Martha, Jonathan, but it’s unlikely you will ever be able to have children.”
As upset as Martha was at the diagnosis, she had little time to think about that, as Jessica took a turn for the worse. It was clear to both her and Jonathan that she wouldn’t make it to next summer.
Two days after her final visit to the doctor and the devastating results of her tests, Martha had to go to the barn for something and saw Jonathan crying. The sound tore at her heart, but she decided then and there that she wasn’t going to let this beat them.
He turned his head and saw her watching him.
“It isn’t fair,” he said. “Why us?”
Martha took his hand and held it.
“Jonathan, as clichéd as it sounds, my grandmother used to say that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.”
He sniffled. “You’re right. That does sound clichéd.”
“Honey, this is not the end of the world,” she said, with more faith than she really felt. As much as she wanted to cry about the unfairness of it all, that wasn’t what he needed right now. “Maybe we can’t have a child of our own, but I know somehow that we will find a way. We will have happy days again, you’ll see.”
He tried for a wan smile and she kissed him softly. No matter what life threw at them, as long as they were together, that was all that mattered.
They stood there, holding each other, determined that this, like everything else they’d faced, would not change how they felt about each other.Last edited by phoenixnz; 04-25-2016, 02:42 AM.Comment
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Oh Leanne that was so sad yet beautifully written. I know just how Johnathon feels about his folks, it's so hard for the men to express their sorrow in times like that, they think they have to be strong but they need to grieve as well. Fortunately we all know they are at least gifted a beautiful boy from the stars. I'm going to get a tissue now.......sniffle.......Comment
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That was the saddest part I'd ever had to write, but it had to come. You're right - men do find it hard to express grief.
I've been inspired for this series. Next part coming right up.
Season One: Pilot
Kids just don't fall out of the sky, Martha.
Then where did he come from?
I don't know, but he must have parents.
Well, if he does, they're definitely not from Kansas.
Sweetheart, we can't keep him. What are we going to tell people - we found him out in a field?
We didn't find him. He found us.
He Found Us
If Jonathan were to think back, years later, about that disastrous day the meteors fell in Smallville, he would have scratched his head in wonder, for who would have thought that in the midst of all that chaos, they would find a miracle? For years to come, Jonathan had no doubt he would look at the beautiful little boy who had literally crashed into their world and wonder just what he had done to deserve such happiness.
He watched as his wife struggled to find something the little boy would eat. Everything was clearly new and strange to him. The tastes, the sights, the sounds. He hadn’t even spoken a single word.
Martha had a spoonful of peas in her hand and was trying to feed them to the boy.
“Just try one,” she coaxed. “It’s good for you. See?” she said, popping a couple in her mouth. They were fresh from the garden.
The child - Jonathan just couldn’t get used to the idea of calling him Clark, took a couple of peas from the spoon and imitated Martha. He quickly screwed up his face and shook his head, spitting them out again. He made a sound that seemed to be a fairly good facsimile of ‘yuck’.
Jonathan laughed at the boy’s expression, genuinely amused by his obvious distaste for peas. The child immediately turned to him, his expression suggesting he was wondering what he had done wrong.
“Oh no, sweetie,” Martha said. “It’s okay. Your dad isn’t laughing at you, are you honey?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head in denial.
“Why don’t we try some mashed potatoes,” Jonathan suggested, using the spoon to make some kind of trail through the creamy potatoes. He’d often said Martha’s mashed potatoes were the creamiest in the county, and not just because she used butter and different seasonings to give them that extra ‘oomph’. Even his mother’s had never been that good.
The child from the stars watched him in fascination as he pretended to be a bulldozer with the spoon, making engine noises. Jonathan looked up at a clapping noise and saw the little boy clapping his hands. He had a huge grin on his face.
Jonathan continued to make the noises, dipping the spoon once more and lifting it up to the boy.
“Here it comes,” he said.
His new son opened his mouth obediently although his expression was still a little wary. Jonathan fed him the mashed potatoes. The boy’s face lit up in genuine pleasure.
“Jonathan, I think he likes it.”
“Sure does, but who wouldn’t,” he replied, grinning at his wife.
They managed to get him to eat some of the stew Martha had cooked. When the boy began rubbing his eyes and yawning, Jonathan scooped him up in his arms. They had managed to clear out the spare room, which had once been his mother’s, and had found a little teddy bear in amongst the toys and clothes Jessica had stored in the attic. The bed was a little big for the boy, but Jonathan arranged some pillows around him so he wouldn’t fall out, watching as his little boy fell asleep clutching the teddy bear.
They decided to keep the bedroom door open and the hall light on, not knowing what the child remembered of his journey through space, or even how long he had been in space.
They really had no idea what they were dealing with, but despite Jonathan’s misgivings, he’d known once he’d seen the look in his wife’s eyes that there was no way they could ever give up the beautiful child.
It had been an incredible sight. The child, naked as the day he was born, walking across scorched earth toward them in their overturned truck, an angelic smile on his face, his dark, curly hair tousled and messy.
Once they’d managed to get out of the truck and walk along the crater which the meteor had created and found the ship, no more than about a hundred feet from their truck, Jonathan’s first thought had been, were there more of them? Who would send a little child out into space alone?
“Sweetheart we can’t keep him,” he’d said, even as Martha looked into the boy’s green eyes. He’d known in that instant, the way she looked at him, there was no way he would ever be able to tear them apart. The boy clung to her fiercely, as if sensing Jonathan’s ambivalence and, if he admitted it, more than a little fear. If the authorities were to learn this boy was not of Earth, how could he protect him?
He tried to tell his wife this as they sat drinking coffee downstairs, listening for any sign of the little boy waking up. Jonathan’s head was still pounding from the concussion he’d sustained in the crash, but he still felt he had been lucky.
“Jonathan, we have to protect him. Who knows what the authorities would do if they were to find out about him. Besides, after what I said to Ethan today, don’t you think it’ll be a little suspicious?”
Damn, he’d forgotten about that. He was sure his friend wouldn’t dig further, not with everything else he had to deal with. Last count, at least fifty townsfolk had been killed in the meteor shower, including little Lana Lang’s parents. Her aunt Nell was taking care of her, of course, but the three-year-old had watched her parents die in front of her.
He bit his lip. “Then how do we do this?” he asked. “Eventually people are going to want to see the paperwork.”
Martha looked pensive. “I suppose we could call my dad,” she said. “We’d have to tell him the truth …”
She trailed off. Jonathan shook his head. After the way William had treated Martha, refusing to even acknowledge their marriage, he wanted nothing to do with the man.
“Absolutely not. I am not letting that man anywhere near our son.”
Martha looked a little surprised. It was the first time Jonathan had acknowledged Clark as their son. He couldn’t help a little smile. Their son. Martha hadn’t been the only one desperate to have a child. Jonathan had always wanted to be a father, and had been devastated when they’d learned it just wasn’t going to be possible.
He remembered what Martha had said to him that day. They would find a way.
He recalled the man they’d helped on the road, whose young son had been gravely injured in the meteor shower. The man’s business card was still in his coat pocket.
“All right,” he said. “I think I know someone who can help. So, I guess we need to work out what we’re going to say on the adoption papers.”
Martha nodded. “We’ll call him Clark, like I told Ethan. I do think my maiden name would make a great first name.”
He nodded his agreement, grabbing a pen and paper and writing it down.
“What about a middle name?”
“Joseph,” Martha replied. “After my grandfather.”
“Now wait, you get to name him Clark …”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“How about Jerome? After my great-grandfather. It sounds better with Clark.”
His wife thought about that for a moment, then nodded.
“It does.”
Jonathan scribbled that on the paper, then bit the end of his pen.
“Don’t nibble on the pen, honey,” Martha admonished him gently. “You’ll get ink in your mouth.”
“You know that’s an old wives’ tale,” he returned.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Sue me.”
“I know what I’d rather do,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, laughing. “We have to focus on this.”
“Okay, okay. Party pooper.”
“Who are you calling a party …”
There was a sharp cry from upstairs and they both ran, taking the steps two at a time. Clark was crying, screaming in his sleep. Martha hurried toward the bed, but Jonathan got there first, scooping the little boy in his arms.
“It’s okay, son, you’re okay,” he said. “It’s just a nightmare.”
Still half asleep, Clark whimpered, clinging to him. Jonathan continued to talk to him in a soothing tone, rocking him gently and patting his back until Clark calmed and fell asleep again.
They crept downstairs once more.
“It must be so strange for him,” Martha mused.
Jonathan chewed on his lip.
“He’d be about three, wouldn’t he?” he asked. “If we tell people he’s three, they might expect him to be at preschool,” he told her.
She nodded. “You’re right. He needs time to get used to his surroundings before we make him go to school. Why don’t we just tell people he’s two and a half, just big for his age?”
“Then we could make his birthday around May,” Jonathan said reasonably. “That way he could still go to school with kids around the same age. He wouldn’t have to get left back.”
“That’s a good idea honey.”
With the matter decided, Jonathan put in a call to Lionel Luthor, who brought the adoption papers to the farm a few days later.
It was just a pity that trusting Lionel was the worst mistake Jonathan could ever have made.
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Ah yes, the trouble with trusting a Luthor! Well you are on a roll my friend, this one was cute. But poor little Clark, he sure doesn't like those peas!! I love Johnathon getting all protective of his boy too, those fathering instincts sure did kick in. Oh and I much prefer Jerome to Joseph too, rolls off the tongue much easier.Comment
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Really enjoying this Martha/Jonathan story so far. It's a shame that this pairing never really gets explored at all.... because I tend to enjoy the dymantic that the two have.Comment
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I admit I loved writing this part as little Clark is adorable. I liked the idea of Jonathan getting protective, but of course, it's not always that easy.
I'm with you, and it was one reason why I wanted to write this. I love picking out various things from the show and writing a story around them. Next one coming up.Comment
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Season Two: Tempest
Jonathan to Nixon
The first time Clark used his abilities, he'd crawled under a big oak bed that my grandfather had made, and I crawled underneath it to try to get him out. All of a sudden the frame just came up in the air. He... he was a toddler lifting--I don't know--500 pounds over his head.
We decided to take him to a doctor scientist, somebody more equipped to understand than we were. But when we got in front of the office, Martha... she said that if we left him there that... they would want to keep him and we'd never see him again. So I took him home. Now, that may have been a mistake, but it was a mistake I'd gladly make again.
Decisions
Clark had been with them only a few weeks and there were times when Jonathan wondered what they had let themselves in for.
The little boy seemed to have adapted very well, although he still couldn’t speak English yet. Martha was, of course, completely besotted with their son. Jonathan had to admit to himself the child was adorable and he enjoyed watching his wife with the boy, especially at bath time.
At first Clark had been a little unsure of himself when Martha had begun to draw him his first bath. He’d looked at the water running in fascination, standing naked beside his mother, watching as the tub filled. As Jonathan watched his little boy Clark moved so quickly they couldn’t stop him, running his hand through the hot water.
Martha gasped, grabbing Clark’s hand.
“No, sweetie, that’s hot,” she warned. Clark’s eyes grew huge and he looked like he was going to cry, clearly startled by Martha’s actions.
What confused Jonathan was when Martha looked at the boy’s hand, it was a little pink from the heat of the water, but there was no sign of any scalding.
He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of place the boy had come from. Clark looked like a normal little boy, which wasn’t unusual, he supposed, but then again, he had seen a few alien movies in his time and he would have expected something to have been different.
Still, there was a big difference between imagination and reality and when it happened, Jonathan was unable to believe the evidence of his own eyes.
Like any normal toddler, or at least from what Jonathan’s friends who had kids told him, Clark had had his fair share of temper tantrums. Jonathan could sympathise, knowing that it must be frustrating for the little boy who had come from a place that must be so different from Earth. Definitely more advanced, he thought.
He also had his fair share of mishaps.
Clark had been playing in the barn while Jonathan worked on the tractor. He’d turned his back on the boy for just a second to tighten a nut when he’d heard scrabbling above him. Jonathan whirled, alarmed to realise Clark wasn’t beside him, but had somehow managed to get up to the hayloft.
Jonathan had been considering building steps up to the loft, for now using it as temporary storage. Clearly Clark had found the ladder and wondered what was up there. He was now standing on the topmost rung of the ladder, looking around.
“Clark!” Jonathan cried out in alarm.
The little boy turned his head at Jonathan’s shout, losing his balance. Jonathan ran to the bottom of the ladder and was about to start the climb up when the toddler fell off. He quickly stepped away and tried to catch his son.
Clark didn’t quite weigh as much as a fifty pound bag of feed, but it was still enough to send Jonathan sprawling as the wind was knocked out of him. The boy scrambled up, clearly unhurt, and ran out.
Jonathan managed to get to his feet and ran out after his son, calling his name. As little as Clark was, he sure seemed to be quick on his feet, Jonathan thought. He’d disappeared before Jonathan could catch him.
He ran into the house, calling for his wife.
“Martha?”
Martha was baking. The sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the house. Clark liked cookies, especially Martha’s oatmeal raisin ones.
She wiped her hands on a towel and looked around at him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Clark … is he here?”
“He came running in a minute ago,” she said. “Jonathan, what’s wrong?” she repeated.
“He had a little … accident. I don’t think he’s hurt, just scared.”
“I think he went upstairs,” she said, starting to take off her apron. He shook his head.
“Let me get him,” he said, thinking it was his fault Clark was so scared. If he hadn’t shouted, Clark wouldn’t have fallen off the ladder.
He went upstairs, checking first the bathroom and Clark’s bedroom, but the little boy wasn’t there. The door to the attic was kept locked, so he knew Clark wouldn’t have gone there.
Biting his lip, he called out.
“Clark? It’s okay son.”
He tried to sound reassuring but wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Clark had obviously been frightened by the mishap, which was understandable, but Jonathan would have thought the toddler would have come out when called.
Guess not, he thought, realising he couldn’t assume anything when it came to his son.
The door to his and Martha’s room was ajar when normally it was closed when they weren’t in it. Clark had started to explore his new world which meant he would frequently get into mischief. Martha had taken to closing the bedroom door thinking it would keep the boy out.
He slowly pushed the door open and heard little sobs and moans coming from underneath the bed. It was a huge oak bed his grandfather had made long before Jonathan had been born. It was a heavy thing and Martha often complained when she had to move the bed to vacuum underneath.
“Clark? It’s all right,” he said.
Clark stopped crying, his sobs becoming hiccoughs.
“You can come out,” Jonathan coaxed.
Still no sign of him. Jonathan realised there was nothing for it. He would have to crawl under the bed to get his son out.
There wasn’t much room under the bed - no more than about a foot. Just big enough for a three year old, or rather a two and a half year old Clark’s size. Certainly not big enough for a man Jonathan’s size.
Still, he did his best to crawl on his stomach underneath, offering Clark a reassuring smile. His son stared at him in fascination, all thoughts of his fright long forgotten. Oh to be a child with a short memory, Jonathan thought with a smile.
He lifted his head suddenly, smashing his crown against the bottom slat of the bed.
“Ow!” he said.
Clark giggled, a high childish sound.
“Oh you think that’s funny huh?”
Well, he supposed it could look funny to a toddler, he thought, continuing to struggle along the floor to get to Clark.
Suddenly the space under the bed was no longer so confined. Jonathan stared in amazement, wondering how it could have happened. He sat up, looking around, then was stunned to realise Clark was lifting it up.
He stared at his son, open-mouthed. Dear god, what had they let into their lives? he thought.
He scrambled quickly away from underneath the bed, which was now about a foot above his head. He had no idea how Clark was doing it and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“Clark, son, put it down,” he said, not sure if his boy understood him. He held out his hands, palms down, and pushed down, hoping Clark would understand the action.
It seemed he did as a few moments later he let the bed down, although none too gently. The bed landed on the floor with a loud thump.
Martha appeared in the doorway less than a minute later.
“What was that?” she asked.
Jonathan had gathered his son in his arms, a little fearful, considering what he’d just witnessed, but trying to reassure him all the same.
He waited until after Clark had had his dinner and a bath and been put to bed before he told his wife what had happened. She looked just as stunned as he felt.
Martha had always been the more open-minded of the two of them, but after what her husband had related about Clark, she had difficulty trying to understand what had just happened.
She watched her son over the next couple of days and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but clearly Jonathan was worried.
He began talking about taking their son to a doctor who could help them and spent the next few days going through the phone directory. Neither of them wanted to take Clark to the hospital, knowing that would be just as likely to frighten the child.
Yet, Martha worried about her little boy. Maybe he had only been with them a couple of months, but she already loved the little boy and felt he was as much her son as if she had given birth to him.
Despite her husband’s fears, she had no such concerns about Clark. She loved watching him play and explore the strange new world he’d found himself in.
She had no idea where it had come from, but Clark had managed to find a rag doll that he played with. It was like a normal rag doll, with yellow coloured wool for hair. Clark was sitting on the floor of the parlour, a plate of cookies by his side, playing with the doll.
“Lara,” he said, stroking its head.
Martha frowned, listening as he said it again. She wondered what the word meant, but didn’t think too much of it.
Jonathan entered the kitchen, holding a magazine.
“I think I found a place,” he said. “There’s a doctor in Metropolis. I think we should take Clark to him. At least let him have a look at him.”
“Jonathan …”
“Martha, sweetheart, Clark isn’t a normal child. We’re just not equipped to deal with this.”
Martha knew her husband’s mind was set and she went along with it, holding Clark in her arms as Jonathan drove to Metropolis. He looked up at her, his green eyes wide, but so trusting. As much as she wanted to solve the mystery of her son, it played on her mind.
As Jonathan pulled the truck into a parking space next to the building which housed the laboratory complex, she stared at it. The building was a horrible dark grey. It looked cold and so impersonal. She wondered what kind of person this doctor would be.
“Come on, Martha,” Jonathan said, his hand on the door handle.
“Jonathan, wait. I’m not sure about this,” she said, looking down at her son once again.
“Martha, sweetheart, we can’t …”
“Jonathan, don’t you understand? If this doctor realises Clark isn’t … from here, he could have him locked up in some government lab and we’d never see him again. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know what to do, Martha. You know what happened.”
“I know. But I also know that he’s just a little boy who won’t understand what we’re doing. Jonathan, I think we were meant to be Clark’s parents. We were meant to protect him.”
Her husband bit his lip. “But sweetheart …”
“Don’t you see? If the government takes him away, they could do anything to him. They could hurt him.”
She had seen enough movies about alien invasions to know that the government didn’t take kindly to visitors from another world. How could she leave this little boy in the hands of someone who wouldn’t care that they were hurting him? Who would probably dissect him like a frog? No, she thought. It was up to them to protect Clark. Their son.
Jonathan looked at her and nodded. He turned on the ignition and pulled away from the complex. Taking them back home.
Last edited by phoenixnz; 06-11-2016, 02:54 PM.Comment
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Holy cow Leanne, your on a roll girl!
I must say I'm really loving these stories, the liitle glimpses behind the scenes so to speak. You know I only re-watched Memoria the other night. I still get teary eyed when Martha tells Clark his first word was Lara and tells him 'a mothers love never dies'. Sometimes I blubber like a baby!! I'm looking forward to more 😉Comment
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