In the late afternoon, the son of Jor-El was posing for a self-portrait in front of the skyscrapers of Metropolis. He had no need for a photographer, and had positioned himself away from all prying eyes. The son of Jor-El positioned the camera in front of him; he ensured that the crest of his family, ‘El’, was perfectly centred, that his cape fluttered in the wind, that his hair was neatly parted, and that his blue and red costume caught the light perfectly. An image of perfection, ready to be frozen in time. The son of Jor-El winked, and the camera clicked. The image was sublime, and Metropolis resplendent with its immense buildings surrounded by the sea.
The son of Jor-El, whom the inhabitants of Metropolis called Superman, then spun around at a speed of 250 miles per hour like a possessed spinning top, and transformed himself into Clark Kent. Clark was the name that his adoptive parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent, had given him when they’d found him, along with his spaceship, in Smallville, Kansas. Clark had been Martha’s maiden name. Clark Kent walked toward the ferry port to make his way into Metropolis. He didn’t want to be late, as his editor often yelled at him when he was late to submit his daily report. He called the editor ‘chief’ – the head of the Daily Planet, the daily newspaper that carried all the latest stories from around Metropolis. Clark Kent climbed aboard a ferry bound for Metropolis. He thought about Lois Lane, his colleague, who was always on his back. “Clark Kent! Clark! Clark Kent! How come you’re never around when Superman’s here? Always showing up late with your clothes looking like you slept in ‘em. Clark Kent, always late to the party. The people of Metropolis want to know more about Superman – you get that, right?” Clark Kent smiled. Loïs Lane was madly in love with Superman, and Clark Kent had something of a crush on her. The paradox being that Superman and Clark Kent were one and the same, but only Superman knew this secret.
“Now docking in Metropolis!” announced the captain over the speaker. Clark Kent put on his hat and hurried in the direction of the Daily Planet building. When he arrived, he made his way to the chief’s office.
“Clark, you’re an hour late – again! What the hell’s keeping you so busy? Most people, when they go to lunch they grab a sandwich or a hot dog on the street. You eat on the move, then fifteen minutes before break’s over you get your ass back to the Daily Planet. But you, Kent, are always late. And take off that damn hat!”
“Sorry, chief, I’ll be sure to follow your instructions over my next lunch break,” answered Clark Kent, as Lois Lane enjoyed the show from her office next door.
“No!” the chief yelled. “No way! I’m not telling you again. Lunch break is one hour, not a minute more and not a minute less!”
“I apologize, sir,” said Kent, clearing his throat. “It won’t happen again!”
Clark Kent left his boss’ office and went back to his own. He looked at the pile of files on his desk; articles to be validated, re-written and corrected for tomorrow’s edition. He leafed through the files, and one article caught his attention. Population divided over US Navy’s latest nuclear test – protests erupt in Metropolis! A worried expression came over Clark’s face. It was dangerous to make these kinds of revelations to the citizens of Metropolis. These events might solicit the interest of criminal masterminds, those who lived to sow social disorder – and in particular Lex Luthor, the scientist who had made it his life’s mission to take down Superman. Would Superman’s sworn enemy attempt to seize upon this opportunity to spread fear and terror?
Clark Kent left his office to investigate. The safety of the people of Metropolis was part of his mission, and it looked like he would be late again tomorrow.
Alan Alfredo Geday
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