Superman

by Matt De La Peña

  He shook his head. “It’s not really my thing.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” she said. When Clark glanced at her red cup, she held it out so he could see what was inside. “Water. I hate feeling like I’m out of control.”

  Clark grinned. “To be honest,” he told her, “I haven’t been to a party like this in a long time.”

  Gloria glanced toward the crowded bonfire area. “Yeah, I’ll take the neighborhood barbecues any day. I only came to keep an eye on my little brother. Do you know Marco?”

  “Yeah. He plays soccer, right?”

  She nodded and looked back at her group of friends. “Great,” she said. “Looks like he’s already ditched me.”

  “I can help you find him,” Clark said.

  “It’s okay.” Gloria glanced around before turning back to Clark. “I’m not usually the overprotective type. It’s just…” He saw fear flicker in her eyes. “Three more people from my community have disappeared. One of them—this guy Danny Lopez—was good friends with my uncle Rene. He went to work at a local farm and never came home. That’s six total, Clark. All young guys. And I’m not trying to lose my baby brother.”

  “Whoa,” Clark said. “Three more? What’s happening?”

  Gloria shook her head and sipped her water. “There are a lot of rumors flying around, but the bottom line is, we don’t know. Not yet, anyway. And I don’t place a whole lot of faith in our local police force these days. Not when it comes to stuff like this.”

  Clark hated that Gloria had to second-guess local authorities, when so many of the white kids partying out here tonight—even poor whites—would never know that kind of anxiety.

  Including him.

  “Anyway, let me go track him down,” Gloria said. “Catch up with you later.”

  Clark watched her walk back toward her group of friends, wishing he could ease her fear about her brother. He realized that since catching those men trespassing on his property, he’d been entirely consumed with what was happening in his world. From now on he would try to focus on the big picture. Starting with these mysterious disappearances.

  He drifted back over to Lex and Bryan, feeling guilty about being at a party when there were so many more important things happening in Smallville. He and Lana had work to do. And he didn’t see why that work shouldn’t start right away.

  “Clark?” Lex snapped his fingers in front of Clark’s face. “Hello? Anyone home?”

  Clark left his thoughts to focus on Lex. “What happened?”

  “I just asked you a question. Are you going to be Bryan’s gym partner?”

  “It’s no big deal,” Bryan said. “I just started this new workout routine and nutritional plan. And Lex is giving me shit.”

  “Not even,” Lex said, grinning. “I’m your biggest supporter. I just think you need a workout buddy. It’s too easy to backslide if you don’t have someone holding you accountable. And you know I’m not a gym guy.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Clark said.

  “See?” Lex said. “Told you Clark would come through.”

  When Lex got pulled into a conversation about Metropolis a few seconds later, Clark nudged Bryan. “So, you’ve been going to the gym?”

  Bryan shrugged. “Remember how I urged you to talk to Gloria at All-American? And said you needed to step into the action? Well, it’s time for me to practice what I preach.”

  Clark nodded. “How’s it going so far?”

  Bryan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been working pretty hard. And Corey, of all people, hooked me up with this supplement that’s been helping me recuperate. Honestly, I never thought of myself as a gym guy either. But I feel good.”

  “That’s what matters,” Clark said.

  They both went quiet for a little while. Clark was tempted to tell Bryan about the people disappearing from Smallville and how he was determined to find out what was going on. But he didn’t know if they had that kind of friendship. They were still just getting to know each other.

  “It’s weird,” Bryan said. “I want so badly to be someone, you know? A person who makes an actual difference. But I have no idea how to do it. I mean, I love flying, but my dad doesn’t really think it’s the best future for me. He says the real money’s in finance. Or law. And since I came back from my boarding school…I don’t know. He’s just different.”

  “I’m not really sure what my calling is either,” Clark said. “I know that sounds dramatic, but you get what I’m saying.”

  “Totally.”

  “It’s like you have all this pent-up energy,” Clark said, “but you can’t figure out where exactly to put it.”

  Bryan nodded excitedly. “And you can’t just ignore it or else you’ll explode.”

  “Exactly.” Ever since Clark was a kid, he’d wondered what his purpose was. When he was younger, he told himself it was farming. Tending to the land. Caring for animals. And those things were still important to him. But lately he’d been wondering if there was something greater he was put on this earth to do.

  Like helping people.

  Before Clark could say anything else, Tanya Davis, a star pitcher on the Smallville softball squad, took him by the elbow, saying, “Sorry to bother you, Clark. But I need you to step into this game of beer pong we got going.”

  “What?” Clark said, caught off guard.

  “We each get a lifeline,” she said, “and you’re mine.”

  “You’re picking Clark?” a baseball player named Jules asked. He turned to one of his teammates, Beau, laughing, and the two of them slapped hands. “I know we’re good now, ’cause this dude doesn’t even drink.”

  A couple of other baseball players laughed.

  “You guys are ignorant,” Tanya said. “I’ve seen Clark break about fifty tackles on a single run. You think he can’t figure out how to throw a damn Ping-Pong ball into a cup of beer?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Go on, Clark,” Bryan said, nudging him forward. “Let’s see what you got.”

  Clark shrugged, took the Ping-Pong ball, and looked at the triangle of cups at the other end of the long table. “What do I do? Toss it into one of those cups?”

  “Whichever one you want,” Tanya said. “And those assholes have to drink.”

  A few people nearby started paying attention to the game as Clark lined up his toss. He estimated the velocity he’d need, based on the weight and tension of the Ping-Pong ball, taking into account the slight breeze. He aimed for the very point of the triangle and watched his toss arc toward the cup, landing right inside.

  “Ha!” Tanya said. “Drink up, suckers!”

  “Lucky shot,” Beau said after he’d downed the contents of the cup in one go. His own shot bounced away.

  “Let’s see if you can double down,” Jules said.

  Clark took the Ping-Pong ball again, lined it up, and made his second toss. The ball went straight into the next cup in line. He felt Bryan slap him on the shoulder. “Maybe this is your calling, Clark!” he joked. “You’re a natural.”

  It was just a silly game, but Clark was getting a thrill out of it. Having a small crowd watching him perform. Competing against the two baseball players on the other side of the table. He made four more throws, sinking all of them in a clear pattern and working the small crowd into a frenzy. As they urged him to go on, though, he began to wonder if he was revealing his powers.

  He missed the next toss on purpose and thanked Tanya for letting him have a turn.

  “Come on, Clark!” she shouted. “I need you for the next round.”

  “I would, but I have to go find someone,” Clark told her. He slapped hands with all of them and made his way back into the house.

  Bryan followed, saying, “Damn, Clark, that was impressive.”

  Clark laughed him off. “I just got l
ucky.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  They joined Lex in the living room. He was talking to twins named Jenny and Laura about the haunted old theater that had been demolished downtown to make way for the brand-new Mankins facility. “Here’s the man himself,” Lex said, motioning toward Bryan. “But don’t ask him about any of this, because he wants nothing to do with his dad’s business. Isn’t that right, Bry?”

  Bryan had an irritated look on his face as he stared at Lex. “Can I get you another beer?” he said sarcastically. “Because, clearly, you haven’t had enough.”

  Lex ignored the dig. “It’s just weird, Bryan. Whenever I ask you something about the family business, you say you don’t know. When are you gonna pull your weight?”

  Sensing that things were quickly escalating, the girls discreetly backed away.

  Clark nudged Bryan. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just wish Lex would tell us why he’s really here in Smallville. He claims it’s to lie low and hang out. Yet he seems pretty obsessed with my dad, if you ask me.” Bryan turned to Lex. “Seriously, like, ninety percent of the times we’re hanging out, you’re digging for info about my dad’s company.”

  Clark sensed this was more of a private conversation between Bryan and Lex, and he began searching for an exit strategy. When he spotted a group of ex-teammates through the window, he said, “I’m gonna go say hi to some people. Be right back.”

  But Bryan and Lex were too caught up in their bickering to even acknowledge him.

  Clark walked out to the back porch, where Paul, Tommy, Reggie, Willie, and Kyle were hanging out. “You showed up,” Paul said. “Tommy, let’s take Clark to the cows. See if he’ll drink straight from the tap.”

  The guys chuckled as Paul drank from his cup. It was clear he was drunk.

  “I’ll pass,” Clark said. Despite the jab, he was happy to see that Paul was no longer wearing his sling.

  “We sold them all, anyway,” Tommy said.

  “Still can’t believe this is our last party here,” Kyle said. “Ever. What are we supposed to do now?”

  “I’m glad you’re focused on the parties,” Tommy said, leaning against the wooden staircase. “Meanwhile, me and my family are thinking about all the meals we shared here. And all the work we did in those fields. The animals we raised.”

  Kyle waved him off dismissively. “Dude, you know what I’m saying.”

  “Why’d your folks end up selling?” Clark asked. “I thought you guys loved this place.”

  “They had no choice,” Tommy answered. “A local buyer came in with an all-cash offer that was too good to pass up. Gave us enough to buy a new house in town and get a winter home in Arizona.”

  Clark nodded, making a mental note to share this information with Lana. He could think of only one local buyer who’d be able to lay down that kind of money up front: Montgomery Mankins.

  Coincidentally, Corey walked by just then with a few of his boys, all of them looking a little old to be at a high school party. Corey had on an expensive-looking black suit, with a black shirt and tie underneath. His two friends wore black blazers and jeans. When Corey noticed Clark, he stopped and asked, “Where’s your friend?”

  “Lana?” Clark feigned glancing around. “She’s here somewhere.”

  Corey looked at the football players, then muttered something under his breath to his friends, who laughed. He said to Clark, “If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”

  After they left, Paul said what everyone was thinking: “Who invited that douche?”

  “I heard they showed up in a hearse, though,” Kyle said. “With a chauffeur. Which, you gotta admit, is pretty sick.”

  “He’s a Mankins boy,” Reggie said. “So you know he’s got that disposable income.”

  The rest of the guys agreed.

  “I guess technically he doesn’t need to be invited, though, right, Tommy?” Willie asked. “As of midnight his dad owns this place.”

  Tommy shook his head. “It wasn’t Mankins who bought the place. It was some company called Wesco. And according to my old man, they’re not even using the place for farming. He thinks they’re gonna turn it into vineyards. I guess the soil all around the crater out back is especially rich and good for vines.”

  “A winery in Smallville?” Kyle asked. “That shit doesn’t even sound right.”

  The guys all went quiet, shaking their heads. But Clark was still stuck on the buyer, Wesco. Now he was more confused than ever. He thought of all the crater photographs on Dr. Wesley’s walls, including those of the crater on the Kents’ farm. Did the guy really want to make wine out here? And how could someone with such a crappy-looking office buy the Jones farm with cash?

  Clark needed to find Lana. She’d want to hear about this.

  Tommy slapped a big mitt onto Clark’s shoulder. “Were your ears burning earlier?”

  “Why?” Clark asked.

  Reggie stood and brushed off the back of his black pants. “Kyle here made a pretty massive statement. He said if you would have stuck with football, you could’ve gone pro.”

  “Really?” Clark looked to Kyle, who nodded. It felt nice to hear that kind of compliment, but it also made Clark feel even guiltier for quitting. He knew a lot of these guys saw football as their ticket out. But without a winning record, college coaches would be less likely to scout their games.

  “Shit, we all think that, Clark,” Tommy said. “You were unstoppable.”

  “Well, everyone except Paul,” Kyle said, turning to him. “Paul?”

  Now they were all focused on Paul, who was leaning against the railing, looking like he was about to be sick. Reggie pulled a half-empty bottle out of his friend’s hand, and Kyle was quick to get Paul some water.

  Clark made a move to help, too, but Tommy cut him off. “Don’t worry about it, Clark. We got him.”

  Clark backed off a few steps, watching Paul slowly recover. In that moment, he saw the colossal distance that now existed between him and his former teammates. Talent didn’t matter as much as trust. And they only trusted the guys on the team.

  He turned and started back toward the farmhouse.

  An hour later, Lana was hastily pulling Clark outside, past the raging bonfire, to the edge of the backyard, where they would have more privacy. He was eager to tell her what he’d found out from Tommy, but she beat him to the punch. “I talked to Gloria Alvarez,” she said.

  He paused, wondering where she might be going with this. “Okay…”

  “She told me about all the disappearances.” Lana looked back at the crowd surrounding the towering bonfire. “You were right, Clark. Whatever’s happening in Smallville, it’s literally tearing families apart. And I’m starting to wonder…”

  “What?” Clark said after she trailed off.

  Lana looked around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “The people in town, the ones who are lobbying for this new stop-and-search law? Could they be taking things into their own hands?”

  “What, like, kidnapping people?”

  Lana shrugged, picking up a small rock and rolling it between her fingers. “It sounds absurd when you say it out loud like that. But there seems to be only one demographic being targeted, right?”

  Clark thought about this. “But why wouldn’t they just wait to see if the issue gets voted in? Then they wouldn’t have to take such a huge personal risk.”

  Lana shook her head. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Clark. This is all new territory for Smallville. Two years ago, immigration wasn’t such a big thing. Not on a local level. Now it’s all anyone talks about.”

  Something about that statement felt incomplete to Clark. Everyone he talked to believed the proposed law was wrong. They were actively fighting against it. He felt like he and Lana needed to consider the disappearances in the co
ntext of everything else that was happening in town. The men trying to break into his barn. The protesters marching outside city hall. The photos he’d seen on Dr. Wesley’s wall. “So, I was talking to Tommy and them earlier,” he told Lana. “Turns out Mankins didn’t buy this place.”

  Lana narrowed her eyes at him. “Then, who did?”

  “Wesco. Dr. Wesley’s company. And he paid for it in cash.”

  “Really?” Lana pitched the rock into the grass. “Where the hell’d he get that kind of money? You saw his office downtown.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought.”

  She stared at Clark for a few seconds and then smiled. “Maybe it’s time for me and you to pay Dr. Wesley a little—”

  Lana was interrupted by a loud crashing sound, followed by the rise of several voices. Clark spun toward the bonfire and saw the shattered sliding glass door. People were filing out of the house to see what all the commotion was about.

  Lana grabbed Clark by the wrist. “Come on!” They both hurried toward the crowd.

  On the other side of the bonfire, Paul and one of Corey’s friends were standing chest to chest, shouting in each other’s faces. “I’ll talk to whoever I want to!” Corey’s friend yelled. “And you aren’t gonna do shit about it!”

  “I said, back off,” Paul growled, jabbing a finger inches from the other guy’s face.

  Corey rushed to the scene. “Hey!” he yelled. “Mikey! What the hell’s going on?”

  “This dude’s drunk,” Mikey answered with a cocky grin. “That’s all.”

  “Nah,” Paul said. “Tanya told you to back off, but you weren’t hearing it.” He scowled at Mikey, adding, “We don’t play that shit here.”

  “Careful now,” Mikey told Paul. “I could have you shipped out of the country by morning. Trust me.”

  Paul shoved Mikey. But when he did, he slipped and had to catch himself on the beer pong table. Paul was built like a tank and was as tough as nails, but he was also drunk. And he was still healing from his shoulder injury. Clark knew he was in no condition to fight.

  Mikey returned the shove. And when Paul stumbled backward, Mikey pounced, throwing an awkward left hook that grazed Paul’s jaw. Paul grasped Mikey’s collar on the way down, pulling him into his fall, and everyone gasped as they twisted toward the roaring bonfire.