Call Me Clark

“Call Me Clark”
by Fred Johnson

[Prolog]
It,s a beautiful bright spring day and a new baby boy is brought into this world. For this boy the sun may have been shining, but he never seemed to escape the darkness of the shadows. His sixteen-year-old mother never had the chance to see her newly born baby, or hear the first time he called out for “Mommy”. Complications of the premature birth took the life of his mother and left him in an incubator, which would happen to be the best home he would ever have. “Where is dad you say?” He wasn’t there that day. Claimed the boy wasn’t his and all responsibility he neglected. Even after blood tests the boy was still rejected. The state demanded that with his father the boy must live.
[End Prolog]

Ten years of age on fingers was easy to count,
but empty beer cans and roaches didn’t fit so he never knew the amount.
Isolated in a one-room apartment next to others the same,
too dirty to live in, sat this boy who never knew his proper name.
The lady next door whom he liked a bunch,
taught him to read and gave him crackers to munch.
Education to his father
was seen as a waste and a bother.
Dad drank all day only taking breaks to smoke. Not like you or I,
he no longer could tell the difference whether or not his dad was high.
This little boy had a horrible life,
scared of his drunken father who yelled while holding a knife.
An escape was what he needed,
the heroes in comic books he whole-heartedly greeted.

Every day a trip to the corner store he took,
to sit and read the newest comic book.
Men who were good and saved the day,
filled his imagination in every way.
He new that life should not be this bad,
and people like him shouldn’t be so sad.
In his mind a difference he would make,
a costume and persona he would have to take.
It would be blue with a big giant cape,
and a “S” made out of masking tape.
Everyday, this shirt, he would wear
no matter what time of year.

One chilly fall day something happened in his favorite store,
while he was reading a comic book and sitting on the floor.
A loud “bang” he heard,
so up he stood.
By the counter laid the owner a nice old man,
from whose head a warm river of red ran.
Over the body stood a man hidden in a mask
not noticing the boy but instead, focusing on his task.
In his pockets he placed the cash
then left the store in a mad dash.
Outside the police were already there,
so the robber grabbed an old lady by the hair.
The man yelled that if they didn’t let him go the lady would die.
The lil boy wanted to save the day, and desperately wished he could fly.
Instead he ran faster than ever,
grabbing the robber by the bottom of his sweater.
The little boy startled the robber and the lady fell to the ground.
That’s when the unnamed boy heard the “bang” sound.

Many more shots from a distance were fired.
The boy laid on the ground it was getting dark, and he was real tired.
The old lady carefully held him in her arms crying.
He had no idea that he was dying.
A smile he wore like a mask, happy because he had saved the day.
Then the lady asked, “May I know the name of the HERO who saved me today?”
Everything around the little boy was starting to get dark
as he said,
“Don’t tell anyone my secret, but you can call me Clark!”

originally written in October 2002