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::Next:: “Mommy! Mommy! Can
we decorate the tree now?” Clark asked
jumping up and down at the kitchen table.
His mother was diligently working on paying the bills and
seemed
to be
overwhelmed. Clark didn’t know the
difference,
he hadn’t came to the age of realization yet. Martha looked up from her
work, a checkbook in one hand, a calculator in the other and a pencil
behind
her ears. She smiled, “No Clark. Mommy has to finish paying the bills, then we
can decorate the tree.” Clark was standing in between
two chairs, his head barely peeking over the top of the refinished pine
table,
but his mother could see the sadness in his eyes. He
had been waiting to decorate the tree for
weeks, and had been bugging his mother all day to do it.
But she had always been to busy; making
breakfast, making lunch and now paying the bills. Now
he put a pout on his face, but didn’t
cry. “Oh Clark, don’t look at me
like that, it makes me feel guilty. Go
find daddy and help him, when you come in, maybe mommy will be read,”
Martha
said, tousling Clark’s shaggy hair. Clark’s face brightened,
“Okay mommy!” And he was gone. The boy could move faster than his computer
mouse. Martha sighed, not knowing if
she would ever get used to it, and turned back to her work. Clark ran full speed outside
and looked around for his father. He
heard some noise in the barn and ran towards it, not at full speed this
time
though. He opened the big barn doors and
gazed inside. He saw his father working
on the tractor, as usual, and walked over to him. “Hi daddy!” Clark said, a
little loudly. Jonathan tried to sit up, but
realized too late that he was underneath the tractor.
“Ow!” he groaned. He pushed
himself
out from under the tractor
and smiled up at his son. He rubbed his
forehead and said, “Hello Clark.” “Mommy told me to come help
you, she’s busy,” his eyes saddened.
“She says we can’t decorate the tree yet.” Jonathan laughed, “You’ve
wanted to decorate that tree all day son, haven’t you?
I’m sorry, but your mother is having a busy
day. I’m sure we’ll be able to do it
before you go to bed. And if not, we’ll
do it tomorrow morning.” Clark’s eyes lit up, “But
tomorrow is Christmas! Pete’s family
always decorates their tree on Christmas Eve.”
“Okay Clark, we’ll try to do
it tonight,” Jonathan resolved. “Okay daddy!” He squatted
down on his knees and looked under the engine, “So what seems to be the
problem?” Jonathan laughed again, that
was a phrase Clark had definitely picked up around their house. He or Martha were always trying to figure out
each other’s problems. “Well, I think a
bolt was loose, but I’m pretty sure that I’ve got it fixed now. Shall we try it?” Clark nodded, “Yes. Can
I drive?” “Uh…I’m not sure Clark. You’re
still pretty little,” his son’s face
became downcast. “But you can ride on my
lap.” “Okay daddy!” Clark smiled
and hopped on his father’s lap. “Vroom
vroom! It’s like a racecar!
Like the one’s on TV that go really fast around
in circles.” He looked up at his dad,
“Don’t they ever get dizzy daddy?” “I don’t think so son,”
Jonathan chuckled, “the circle is too big for that.”
He turned the key and the engine roared to
life. “Ahh…perfect.” “Yay! Daddy
fixed the tractor!” Clark jumped up and
down on his father’s lap. “Settle down Clark, there’s
not that much room,” Jonathan figured they’d better dramatically cut
down on
the boy’s sugar intake. “Come one daddy! Go
already!”
Clark was getting impatient and he had his hands on the
wheel,
looking up
at his dad with big eyes. Jonathan chuckled, “Alright,
alright. Here we go.”
He stepped on the gas pedal and they inched
forward. But right before they made it
out of the barn, the engine sputtered and quit, and the back end of the
tractor
fell to the ground. “Aw,” Jonathan
refrained from cursing around Clark, “I guess I didn’t exactly fix it
huh.” “No,” Clark crossed his arms
and pouted, “I wanted to go on a tractor ride.”
“I know son, but you can run
faster than the tractor anyway, so why bother,” Jonathan said,
enlightening. Clark hopped off the tractor
and his father followed him down, “Because I don’t have to use any
energy. I can just sit, and the wheels use
energy.” Jonathan nodded, laughing to
himself. The boy knew too much. “Well I suppose I won’t work any longer on
the tractor tonight, what do you say you and I play a game of cards
while we
wait for your mother?” Clark smiled, “Yeah! Can
we play Go Fish?” Jonathan ruffled Clark’s
hair, “We can play whatever you want to, little man.”
Clark ran out of the barn doors and out
towards the house. Jonathan followed,
shutting the barn doors behind him and locking the dead bolt. Clark pounded up the steps
and opened the screen door, “I beat you daddy!”
He ran inside and his father was close at his heels. “Hey! You always
win! My turn next time, okay?” Jonathan
teased. Clark pretended to think,
“Hmmm…okay. I suppose.”
He ran into the living room and started
looking for the playing cards. Jonathan took off his coat
and hung it on the coat rack. Turning to
Martha he bent down and kissed her on the forehead, “Hello dear. How is it coming?” Martha sighed, “Fine I
suppose. I think I’m almost done.” She looked up at him with a smirk, “Did I
hear the tractor going? Does that mean
it’s fixed?” Jonathan rolled his eyes,
“Yeah, right. When was the last time it
was fixed?” Martha smiled innocently, “It
was perfectly fine when you bought it.” “Har har,” Jonathan said
sarcastically. Then they both nearly
jumped when they heard Clark’s little voice. “Mommy, Daddy, there’s a
strange man at our door,” Clark said, pointing towards the screen door. “Oh my goodness,” Martha
said, standing up from her chair. She
hurried over to the screen door where a man was bundled up in a large
jacket
and sort of bending over in a hunched position.
“Please, come in.” She put a
hand
on his back and led him inside. Jonathan
pulled out a chair and they sat the man door. “Oh thank you,” the man said,
a little groggily. “Are you alright sir?”
Jonathan asked, concerned. The man nodded, “I am so
sorry to be intruding like this…” Martha cut him off, “Don’t
be. You weren’t interrupting
anything.” Jonathan put an arm around
her and she smiled caringly at the man.
“Can I get you some coffee?” she
asked. “Yes, thank you ma’am,” the
man nodded, and Martha hurried over to pour him a glass.
“I was trying to get home for the holidays,”
the man began, “but my car broke down two miles down your road. I saw the lights on in the distance and I
thought it might be the safest thing to do.” Jonathan nodded, “Is there
anything I can do to help?” “I’m afraid not,” the man
said, smiling at Martha as she handed him a cup of coffee.
“You see, this is not the first time this has
happened, but I thought I had it fixed by the time I left for home. I need a tow truck, but there’s no place
opened today. The company answering
machine said they were closed for the rest of the week.” “Oh, that’s just terrible,”
Martha said, looking from the man to her husband. Clark was getting anxious, he
ran up to the man, “Hi! I’m Clark
Kent! And I’m six and a half years old!” The man looked down at Clark
with a twinkle in his eye, “Nice to meet you Clark.
My name is Nicholas, but I’m not six and a
half, I’m afraid.” “There’s a boy in my
kindergarten class named Nicholas. But
we call him Nicky. His nickname is
Sticky Nicky because on the first day of school he got glue all over
his hands
and the teacher spent fifteen minutes cleaning his hands because they
kept
sticking to everything like his papers.”
Clark’s face turned slightly red getting the whole
sentence out
in one
breath, but he had done much more before. “Wow, that was quite a
mouthful my boy,” Nicholas chuckled, “that’s too bad about your pal
Nicky.” Clark smiled broadly, “Oh, he
doesn’t mind. Do you know what my
nickname is?” Nicholas shook his head,
trying not to smile. “My nickname is see
kay. Everybody calls me that, but I
don’t know why. My best friend Pete
started calling me that on the second day of school.”
He stared off into space and pondered, “Maybe
it was the third day.” Jonathan and Martha laughed
and his mother bent down, putting her hands on her thighs.
She looked into Clark’s eyes, “Clark,
sweetie, those are your initials.” “Enishals?” Clark asked, with
a blank expression. “Yes, dear. That’s
when you take the first letter of your
first name and the first letter of your second name and put them
together,”
Martha said as she straightened up again. “Ohhhh,” Clark said,
smiling. Nicholas laughed and stood
up, “Well, I should really be on my way.” Martha walked up to him, “Oh
no you don’t. It’s Christmas Eve! You will eat dinner here with us.” She looked at Jonathan, “We have a roast in
the oven big enough for a family twice our size, right dear?” Jonathan nodded,
“Absolutely. You can stay over for
dinner and then we will decide what will be safest to do from there.” Nicholas blushed slightly,
“That’s awfully nice of you. Are you
sure I wouldn’t be interrupting anything?” “No, not at all. Now
you three go into the living room while I
cook dinner.” Martha shoved them out of the kitchen and turned back to
her
work. Jonathan chuckled, “Here, let
me take your coat.” “Thank you, Mr. …?” Nicholas
asked, handing Jonathan his coat. “Kent. Jonathan,
please,” Jonathan said with a
smile, hanging up the man’s coat. “Jonathan Kent, pleased to
meet you. I am Nicholas James.” The men shook hands. Clark looked on as the men
became acquainted with each other.
Nicholas, no older than his late forties, was a heavy man,
Clark
knew
that if he tried to hug him, he would barely be able to fit his arms
half way
around the guy’s stomach. He was tall
though, at least as tall as his dad and had a thin black beard that
rounded off
the slope of his chin. He had bright red
cheeks, probably from the outside cold, and a huge smile.
Clark felt comfortable around him and liked
the man immediately. “So, Nicholas, where is your
family,” Jonathan asked, motioning for him to have a seat on the couch. Nicholas turned and sat down
on the big living room couch. “They live
on the other side of Smallville. I had
to work in Metropolis this morning and I was hurrying home, my family
really
didn’t like it that I had to work today.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow,
“Working on Christmas Eve? Where do you
work?” “LuthorCorp,” the man said,
averting his eyes, obviously a little embarrassed.
“I’m the executive janitor there.” Jonathan nodded, “As much as
hate LuthorCorp, I respect all the jobs it creates.”
Nicholas nodded. “Mr. Nicholas? Do
you have any kids like me?” Clark asked as
he crawled up onto the couch next to the big man. The man chuckled, “Not
anymore. Most of my kids are grown
up. They are in high school and college
now.” Clark looked blankly up at
him, “Kolige?” It was taking him a
little time to get used to these big words the adults kept using. “Yes. It’s a big
school where young adults all over
the state go to school. They have to
study really hard and then they can get a job,” Nicholas explained. “Oh. I want to
get a job someday,” Clark said,
smiling. “I want to be a racecar
driver. But I don’t want to use Daddy’s
tractor, it’s always broken. I want a
really cool car, like the one’s on TV. I
also want to play football, like my Daddy.
I can run really fast so when I catch the ball I can run
for a
touchdown
and score a lot of points. And then I
will be in the Newspaper and everybody will know who I am.” Jonathan’s face went a little
pale. The last thing he wanted was for
everyone to know who Clark was. It was
no doubt that once they knew him, it wouldn’t be far from them finding
the
truth about him. Nicholas smiled down at
Clark, “A racecar driver would be a lot of fun, I agree.
But a football player would be a little
dangerous, wouldn’t you think?” Clark shook his head, “No
way. I don’t ever get hurt.
Once me and my daddy were…” “Clark, son, do you think you
can go see if your mother needs any help?”
Jonathan said, cutting off his son.
Clark was just about to spill his guts about his
abilities, not
that the
man would really believe him, he might just laugh, but it was still a
little
uncomfortable. “Sure Daddy!” Clark
zipped into the other room, not at full
speed, and Jonathan sighed. Clark had
left the playing cards strewn all over the couch beside Nicholas. “Cute kid,” Nicholas
chuckled. Jonathan smiled, “Aren’t they
all.” Clark stuck his head back
into the living room, “Mommy says to wash up for dinner because its
almost
ready.” He turned around and started
running towards the bathroom. Jonathan and Nicholas stood
up and Jonathan led the way to the bathroom.
“That son of yours has way too much energy,” Martha said,
as the
men
passed through the kitchen. “My son? You’re
the one who insisted on keeping him,”
Jonathan said, smiling. Nicholas raised an eyebrow,
“Keep him? Were you planning on throwing
him away?” Jonathan chuckled, “Clark’s
adopted.” All of a sudden, Clark
appeared behind Nicholas, “Adopted. I’m
adopted.” He started whistling an
anonymous tune and sat down at his place at the table. Nicholas and Jonathan washed
their hands and then joined Clark at the table.
The table was covered with heaps of mashed potatoes, peas,
squash and
homemade buns, Martha’s specialty.
Seconds later Martha emerged carrying a huge roast and set
it on
the
middle of the table. “Oooh, boy,” Jonathan said,
licking his lips, “you really have gone all out this year, Martha.” “Yeah, mom. Come
on already, I’m hungry,” Clark said,
putting his napkin in his lap. The adults laughed. Jonathan
said Grace, and cut the roast. The meal was full of joyful
conversation. Martha was interested in
his family, Jonathan wanted to know about his job and Clark kept asking
for
more mashed potatoes. They all finally finished and
Martha ran to fetch the apple pie. “Mommy’s pie is the best
ever,” Clark said proudly. “They tell
her to make it for the bake sale every year.” “Is that so?” Nicholas
asked. “Well, I guess I don’t have much
to worry about now, do I?” Clark shook
his head. Martha brought out the pie
and Jonathan, once again, cut into it, dishing up a slice for Nicholas
and
Clark and then for Martha and himself.
The family, plus Nicholas, spent another half hour at the
table
laughing
and telling jokes. Martha stood up to clear the
plates when Nicholas stuck his hand out, “No, please Mrs. Kent. Let me.” “Nicholas…” Martha
objected. It was too late, he had
already gathered up all the plates and was heading into the kitchen. He came back out a minute or so later with a
smile on his face, “You’ve let me stay for dinner on Christmas Eve, the
least I
can do is clear the dessert plates.”
Martha blushed. Clark hopped out of his seat
and ran over to Nicholas, “Mr. Nicholas!
Do you want to help us decorate the tree for Santa Clause? My best friend Pete says that if you don’t
decorate it, he won’t come. So we have
to decorate it before it’s too late.” He
grabbed Nicholas’ hand and led him into the living room. Jonathan and Martha followed
the two into the big room and Jonathan retrieved the box of decorations
from
the hall closet. Together, the four of
them decorated the tree. Clark finally
got to put his big ornament that he made in school on the tree. He stood up on his tip toes and reached up as
far as he could and hung it on the highest point he could reach. Finally, they all stood back
and looked at the glorious tree. It was
glowing and beautiful. Clark smiled
broadly. “Oh Clark,” Jonathan said, “I
think we missed one thing.” He held up
the star. “Duh!” Clark said, hitting
himself on the head, “How could we forget the star?”
He ran over to Jonathan and he lifted Clark
onto his shoulders. Steadying Clark,
Jonathan leaned in to the tree and Clark put the finishing touches on. Martha gasped and everyone
looked at her. “Dear God, look outside!” They all looked. Sure
enough, there was snow. He snow was
falling steadily and had already
covered the ground with a thin blanket of white. Clark screamed, “Snow! Put
me down Daddy!” Jonathan set him down and
he ran to the
window, looking outside gleefully. Jonathan leaned over to
Nicholas, “You don’t mind spending the night do you?” Nicholas smiled, “It looks
like I have no choice” “I’ll go get some blankets,”
Martha said. Clark ran up to her, “Can I
sleep out here with Mr. Nicholas?” Jonathan started to object
when Nicholas cut in, “Oh that would be wonderful Clark.
Then I wouldn’t get lonesome.” Martha smiled and nodded,
“I’ll get you some blankets too.” Clark ran over to Nicholas,
“Do you think we’ll see Santa?” Nicholas bent down, as best
he could over his big belly, “You know, we just might!” Clark smiled broadly, “I’ll
go get some cookies!” And he ran of
again. “You’re right, he does have
way too much energy,” Nicholas said yawning, “It makes me tired to even
watch
him.” Jonathan chuckled. Martha came carrying blankets
on top of blankets and the two men helped her make out the couch for
Nicholas
and then another series of blankets on the floor for Clark. Jonathan gave Nicholas some of his clothes to
use for pajamas and Clark came out carrying a plate of chocolate chip
cookies
and a glass of milk, “I hope Santa isn’t lack toes intoler rant like in
The
Santa Clause with Tim Allen. We don’t
have any soy milk.” Everybody laughed and watched
Clark set the milk and cookies on the table by the tree.
Clark crawled under his blankets and his
mother tucked him in. Jonathan and
Nicholas shook hands and Nicholas, too, climbed into the blankets laid
out for
him on the couch. “Good night, Clark,” his
mother said, whispering as she drew the blankets up close to Clark’s
chin. “Good night mommy, good night
daddy,” Clark said yawning. His parents left and turned
out the lights as they left. Right
before Clark dozed off, he said, “Good night Mr. Nicholas.” “Good night Clark, and Merry
Christmas.” ~The End~ |