'Verse: general Superman
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Sad enough.
A/N: One of the prompts of the August fic grab 2010 over at EyesSkyward “death” spoke to me after the fic grab was closed. Now that AndiePhoenix' story for that prompt is up, I want to share my 'recycling story' for the same prompt.
Comments and reviews are appreciated!
“Mooooom!”
The loud scream alarms Martha Kent instantly. What has happened? Hastily she puts down her knife and the apple she was peeling for a cake and runs outside following her son's voice. Stopping in the door to the porch she sees Clark holding something small in his little hands looking up to her.
“What's wrong?” Irritation in her voice Martha examines her son with her eyes from head to toe. He seems fine and nothing indicates a reason for the urgency that was in his scream.
With tears springing to the boy's eyes and his voice thin and quivery he answers: “I broke my spider.”
Recognizing a mashed spider in the boy's palm Martha drops to her knees caressing his head with one hand while taking her son's hand with the animal in the other.
With a soft voice she says:
“Ohh, sweetie. I'm sorry. But you have to be careful when you're playing.”
Sniffling her son replies:
“I was careful. But it was walking the wrong direction and I wanted to point it to the right one. Now it's broken. Can you or dad repair it?”
Suppressing a chuckle Martha takes a deep breath. How to explain a three-and-a-half year old boy the principles of living and dying? Slowly she takes a shot at it:
“Clark, it's not broken. It's dead. You know a spider is an animal, like cats and horses. And animals live. They have a heart beating inside of them that let's them live. Like your little heart beats inside of you.”
With big eyes and a solemn expression on his face the boy follows his Mother's explanation. So she continues:
“When you play with animals you have to be careful for not hurting them. And the smaller an animal the easier it is to hurt it. With this spider here in your hand you haven't been careful enough. When you tried to shove it into the right direction you were pushing too hard. And your fingers pressed so much that the heart of this spider couldn't beat anymore. Now it's dead.”
Realization in his face Clark lets out a small “Oh!” and his expression quickly turns to sad again more tears watering his eyes. But when a thought crosses his mind a hopeful smile tugs at his lips:
“Can you or dad make it living again?”
Breathing in heavy again Martha strengthens herself to explain the finality of death:
“No. We are just humans. We can't revive animals nor people. When someone is dead he or she is gone. Sometimes being dead looks like sleeping. But it's not. The person or in this case the animal is elsewhere and we can't bring it back. The body is still here but what's inside, the thoughts, the feelings, is gone. That's why we have to be so careful and why we shouldn't kill.”
Letting out a thoughtful “Oooh!” Clark processes what he just heard.
“It's really not coming back?” he asks again for assurance.
“No. I'm sorry.” Martha waits for her son to do the next move, ask the next question.
And she doesn't have to wait long:
“What happens when someone dies?”
Somehow Martha expected this question, so she searches for words to tell what she knows:
“Your heart stops beating. Your soul, that means your thoughts and feelings go elsewhere. No one actually knows where. As Christians we believe that our souls go to heaven to stay with god. But in other religions there are other ideas and nobody came back from the dead to tell us exactly. Your body is buried at the graveyard. If you like we can bury this spider as well.”
Thinking a moment Clark nods his agreement and Martha rises from the porch floor. Taking a small garden shovel from the table she asks her son:
“What about next to the porch, over there? Is that a good place?”
Another nod from the boy and they both go where Martha had indicated. When the small hole is made Clark lets the spider glide in it, a solemn expression on his face. Then he helps his mother to close it again. When only the different color of the fresh earth shows that something has changed he whispers sadly:
“I didn't want to hurt you, spider. I'm sorry.”
Ruffling his hair Martha comforts him:
“I'm sure the spider knows. - You know, after a funeral people usually go to eat something together in honor of the dead one. Why don't you come inside and help me finishing the apple pie so we can have a funeral feast later?”
At this Clark's eyes light up and he bounces off to the kitchen. Smiling Martha follows the bundle of energy. But deep inside she knows that this was only the first of many conversations about death and silently she prays that she will be able to explain her son the preciousness of life and that as scary and sad as it is death is a natural part of life.
~END~
Statistik: Verfasst von C_K_unlimited — Mi 15. Sep 2010, 11:21
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