THE LAST SON OF KRYPTON
“STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND”
FADE IN
On Jonathan Kent out in one of his fields, at work removing a large boulder embedded in the ground.
SUPERIMPOSE: SEPTEMBER 1933
Working with a long pry bar, he struggles to uproot the stubborn boulder. Though a virile man still, Jonathan is beginning to show the signs of age; his blond hair is starting to fade to a pale gray and he now wears his glasses on a permanent basis.
As Jonathan sweats and strains against the boulder, Clark walks up to him, his red-haired dog Rusty — son of Shelby — running circles about his heels. Seventeen years old, Clark has grown into a strapping young man — tall, broad-shouldered, and rustically handsome.
CLARK
Pa?
JONATHAN
(busy) Hrm?
CLARK
Can I help?
Struggling with the pry bar for a few more seconds, Jonathan finally gives the futile effort up. Taking off the hat he’s wearing, he wipes his moist brow, sighing with exasperation.
JONATHAN
(steps back) You’re gonna need something for leverage, son.
Stepping up to the boulder, Clark reaches under and uproots it, holding it aloft with one hand effortlessly. This is a Clark who wouldn’t struggle lifting the rear of the Model T now.
CLARK
Where do you want it?
JONATHAN
(smiles) Let’s take it to the barn, around back.
Leaving the field, they take the boulder behind the barn, where Clark gently sets it down on the ground. With a few short whacks, he splits the boulder up into smaller chunks to be hauled away later.
CLARK
Is it alright if I head off to the park? I was hoping to meet the gang there.
JONATHAN
All your chores done?
CLARK
Uh-huh.
JONATHAN
Then what do you need my permission for? (claps Clark on back) School starts tomorrow. Make the most of these precious few hours.
CLARK
(grins) Thanks, Pa.
JONATHAN
Just don’t be late getting back for supper.
CLARK
Am I ever?
Before Jonathan can reply, Clark is gone in a flash. Shaking his head, Jonathan takes his hat and slaps a boulder chunk with it, smiling.
FADE OUT
BEGIN OPENING CREDITS
END OPENING CREDITS
FADE IN
On the park.
It is a sunny, late Labor Day afternoon. Though most visitors have retired home for the coming evening, several people are still present, playing games, flying kites, talking, reading, or just sitting and milling about.
Dropping out of super speed, Clark arrives on the park outskirts, well out of view of anyone. Checking his clothes over to make certain they are neat and clean, he proceeds onward, walking at a leisurely pace. He soon spots Lana and Pete. Like Clark, they, too, have matured into young adults. Pete is tall, almost as tall as Clark, just as handsome, but lanky in build. Lana, shorter than the two boys but still tall for a lady, is a beauty with large thick-lashed eyes, full cheeks, and full pink lips, a large congregation of freckles covering her exposed skin only adding to her natural beauty. Sharing a bench, the pair are deep in conversation, too busy to notice Clark.
CLARK
(waves) Lana! Pete!
Noticing Clark, they rise from the bench. Clark joins them.
PETE
(claps Clark on arm) Glad to see you made it out today, fella.
CLARK
Summer break’s almost over. Like my pa said, “Make the most of these precious few hours.” (beat) Brought the pigskin?
LANA
(brings out football) bien sûr.
Heading out to a clear area on the grass, the three begin playing catch.
PETE
(tosses ball to Lana) Returning to the Torch again this year, Lana?
LANA
(catches ball) Returning to this question again this year, Pete?
Lana tosses the ball to Clark, who tosses it back to Pete.
PETE
(catches ball) Well, yeah. This is senior year. (tosses ball to Lana)
LANA
(catches ball) So? (tosses ball to Pete)
PETE
(catches ball) You’ve been editor-in-chief of the school paper three years straight. Don’t you wanna give something fun a run your final year? (tosses ball to Clark)
CLARK
(catches ball) Working on the Torch is plenty fun, Pete. (tosses ball to Lana)
PETE
You think milking cows is fun, Kent.
LANA
You’d rather I try out for cheerleading? (tosses ball to Pete)
PETE
(catches ball) Getting dolled up in a cute number? Hoofing it for the boys on the field? Flashing those grand gams of yours? A mite niftier than sitting on your keister in a cramped, fusty office getting an edge off mimeograph fumes, I can tell you. (tosses ball to Clark)
LANA
Sorry, Pete. Tried that freshman year; didn’t take to it. (intercepts ball) Go long.
Jogging out, Clark spreads his arms high. Lana sends the football sailing through the air; Clark just barely misses it. He goes to retrieve the ball.
LANA
(to Pete) Though if you want to admire my grand gams, you need only ask.
As Clark returns with the ball, Lana hikes the hem of her skirt up to her thigh, affording both boys a lingering look at one long, shapely, creamy leg.
CLARK
(drops football) Hot damn!
Flashing a sexy grin, Lana drops her skirt back in place.
A couple hours later.
With the sun beginning to set, the three call it a day. Giving their farewells, they part to return home.
EXT. KENT FARM — BARN — SUNSET
Returning from the park, Clark crosses past the barn on his way to the house.
KENNY
(O.C.) Hey, Clark! Clark, up here!
Stopping, Clark turns and looks up to the barn. He can just make out Kenny standing in the loft’s open door.
INT. BARN/LOFT — SUNSET
Clark climbs the ladder to the loft, where he finds Kenny sitting in a wooden chair by the loft door, casually sipping from a bottle of root beer as he looks out, seemingly a million miles away. As tall as Pete but even leaner, he’d look handsome if he wasn’t so painfully thin.
Turning to Clark, the black teenager hoists up a small carrying case of root beer.
KENNY
Have one.
Clark silently takes one of the bottles. Placing his thumbnail under the rim of the metal cap, he pops it off with one flick of his thumb.
KENNY
I still haven’t learned how you do that.
CLARK
Trade secret.
KENNY
You out with Pete and Lana?
CLARK
At the park, yeah.
KENNY
(looks out loft door) Those were the days, weren’t they? Just us four, running wild all summer-long, day and night. (beat) Your folks always understood. My dad never did.
Clark takes a seat in a second chair beside Kenny.
CLARK
(takes sip) How’s your pa? Doing any better?
KENNY
Worse. A lot worse. (takes sip) I won’t be coming back this year, Clark.
CLARK
(frowns) What do you mean, won’t be coming back?
KENNY
I’ll be needed at the gas station full-time now. I won’t have time for school anymore.
CLARK
Ken, this is our senior year. Graduation’s this spring.
KENNY
And I know you’ll make it — with flying colours. (finishes bottle) Keep the rest.
Morose, Kenny rises and crosses over to the ladder.
EXT. BRAVERMAN HOME/FRONT YARD — TWILIGHT
Kenny arrives home. The Braverman home is a cottage in shabby, weather-beaten, but otherwise alright condition.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/LIVING ROOM — TWILIGHT
Within the confines of the cottage living room we finding AL BRAVERMAN sitting in a threadbare armchair, a bottle of moonshine cradled in his lap. Eyelids droopy, lower lip hanging low, nose misshapen, chin unshaven, and frame and features positively skeletal, he is a homely man. His bleary eyes are quite yellow, but that could be due to the dirty lighting afforded by the living room’s kerosene lamp.
As Kenny enters the cottage, he reluctantly steps into the living room doorway and stands there, watching his father for a sign of acknowledgement. Taking a long sip from his bottle, Al takes a gander at his son. Spitting a stream of saliva through the gap in his bottom front teeth, he returns to watching nothing.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/KITCHEN — TWILIGHT
Entering the kitchen, Kenny begins preparing supper. As he is retrieving the cookware, he halts, rests fingers against his mouth, then steps back out of the kitchen.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/LIVING ROOM — TWILIGHT
Kenny has returned to the doorway. Al has slipped into a doze. The bottle, held limply now in his hands, begins to tilt precariously forward, threatening to spill. Kenny strides up to the armchair and stills the bottle. This action is enough to jolt Al out of his light slumber. Thinking his son is trying to steal his bottle, the ugliness of Al’s face deepens with a scowl as he slaps Kenny hard against the face. Kenny rears back. Al stares hard at Kenny for several long seconds, then falls back into unconsciousness.
INT. BRAVERMAN HOME/KENNY’S BEDROOM — TWILIGHT
Kenny enters his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the home, this room is kept clean and relatively tidy, though there are books everywhere, hardcover and paperback, fiction and nonfiction. Closing his door behind him, he strides up to his desk. Opening the top drawer, he reveals the revolver nestled inside.
Withdrawing the revolver, he pulls back the hammer, aiming it at the bedroom door, in the direction of his father. As Kenny keeps the barrel of the gun trained in that direction, his face twists with deep-seated loathing, his hand and arm beginning to violently shake with suppressed rage.