Of knitting and other nerdy pursuits

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"CLARK!" His Ma called from the kitchen, an early riser through and through, the scent of freshly cooked breakfast and bacon grease waking him up from his sleep. "It's time to get up!"

Contrary to popular belief (Bruce), Clark wasn't a morning person. He did wake up with the sun, just like his Ma and Pa, but he much preferred lounging in his bed, basking in the morning light until the rays got too hot to bear. He didn't get to do that very often back in the big city, so he grumbled at being disturbed in his sleep. He ultimately gave into the siren call of Ma's warm breakfast, and lumbered down the stairs in his sleep clothes like an unruly toddler dragging his feet. Lois would throw her back out laughing if she saw him like this.

"Oh you poor thing, have you been resting properly? You look drained!" Ma commented as he shuffled into his seat at the dining table. A hum left Clark's still half asleep figure as the front door opened and Pa walked in with the Saturday morning paper and dew staining his overalls. Ma yelled across the room to not track dirt into her clean home, and Pa's rumbling laughter woke him up just a little bit more. Right on time as well, as a steaming plate of fluffy pancakes, eggs and bacon was placed in front of him. The headlines on the first page of the paper had something about a three headed sheep being born on a farm across town, the same one that had just lost its patriarch to a mysterious illness, and Clark gave that a curious thought before greeting his Pa.

"Well look who finally woke up," a huff left Pa as he sat down across from Clark, "How's Metropolis treating you?"

They talked between bites of their food, Ma joining them with her own plate. His phone pinged occasionally with messages from his group chats. Lois sent him an update on a lead she was following, something about a multiple missing persons case in a few remote towns. Strange sightings have been happening in the areas for a while, animals with misshapen limbs and birds with no feathers, and Lois believed there was some correlation to the two. Diana has sent a meme in their Trinity group chat with Bruce, tagging the elusive man under a picture of a black cat prowling in the dark with a tiny orange cat following behind. Clark reacted to the image with a heart, and returned to his breakfast.

"You mind looking at Bessy for me, Clark? She's been acting up again, and I can't find what's wrong with her."

"You gotta let her go Pa, she's too old of a tractor to be running smooth now." The red tractor had been with the Kents for as long as Pa had lived, and the man refused to buy a new one, even if Clark offered to pay for it. At Pa's (predictable) refusal, Clark sighed and agreed to look at old Bessy once more. If he couldn't figure it out either, he'd call up Bruce for a favour. The man would probably fit the rusty thing with a turbo engine for fun.

Once he finished his breakfast and freshened up enough, he headed to the barn where the tractor sat. The few cows the Kents had in their name were grazing beside the barn, and Clark stopped to affectionately rub one of the cow's heads before carrying on with his duty. By the time he had made any progress with the tractor the sun made his bed at the highest point in the sky.

Bruce had called him at some point, and the two had been chatting about what was happening in their lives for a short while. It was good company while Clark tried his best to fix his Pa's old tractor, and Bruce even had some pointers for him to use. This was something they had taken to doing more often, keeping in touch with the other, because it 'built camaraderie and trust', in Diana's very wise words. He'd probably call her in the evening as well, just to see how the latest additions to the museum's repertoire were doing with the public.

The sounds of the outdoors blanketed Clark's surroundings, the rustling of animals grazing in the fields, wind blowing through the leaves of the trees that dotted the flat midwestern terrain. Bruce’s mute baritone carried through the speakers of his phone, the man talking about a recent case that sounded just a bit too similar to what Lois was investigating. He mentioned as much to Bruce, and heard him pause before typing something in the background. Seeing the lead, Clark proceeded to explain what Lois' case was, and the more he talked about it, the stranger it all sounded. Maybe there was some magic involved? Should they bring in Zatanna?

Clark stayed on the call as he finished up with the tractor, listening to Bruce’s theories as he wiped the grease off his hands on a rag and walked out of the barn into the afternoon sun. The cows had largely migrated in search of more grass to graze on, standing closer to the water trough than they did before. Some of the cows seemed to look up as Clark left the barn, but went right back to grazing and ruminating on their meals.

Except for one, that is. The cow seemed to stare at Clark for a bit, abnormally fixated on the man who stared right back at it. He felt a strange sense of unease the longer he stood under the sun, scrutinized by a weird looking cow of all things. It's eyes looked way too focused to dismiss. He tried pulling on his memories to place a name on this weird cow, but he couldn't recall it even with his eidetic memory. Did Ma and Pa buy a new one without telling him? Was she a calf that grew up while Clark was away? But Ma would tell him if a cow on their farm had a calf, wouldn't she?

In his momentary confusion, he had forgotten he was still on a call with Bruce. His friend's voice came over the phone, repeating his name again and again to get his attention and Clark shook his head to clear his thoughts before answering back. What a strange cow....

The interaction stayed in his mind for the entire day, even after his best efforts to not think about it. His parents denied purchasing or adopting a new cow when he asked, and that left a sour taste in his mouth. What was that, then?

Ma and Pa were supposed to leave for a family event out of town, and Clark stayed back to take care of the house for the few days they wouldn't be home. He bid them farewell in the evening, still thinking about the cow, when he realised just what was bugging him about the animal.

The call connected and Bruce’s voice came out rough and a bit annoyed, like Clark was interrupting the man. Seeing as it was the usual time Batman left for patrol, he guessed he did interrupt him.

"What-"

"Cows don't have front facing eyes."

"Clark, what?-"

"Cows have monocular vision, they have eyes on the side of their face-"

Bruce cut him off before he could ramble further. He realised the man probably already knew what lateral vision was. "Get to the point Clark, what's happening?" He sounded worried, the skid of wheels on granite and clicking of keyboard keys told Clark Batman was already on the batcomputer.

"There's a cow on my farm with front facing eyes."

A pause. Suddenly, all the weirdly formed animals popping up in Lois' investigations and Bruce's case made sense. Suddenly, he realised those places usually had people going missing in their homes.

Bruce didn't speak, the silence spoke enough for him. Clark felt a surge of relief at knowing his parents weren't at home.

"What the heck is on my farm?"

A sucked in breath, a tense moment. Clark knew the man on the phone had reached similar conclusions.

"Call Zatanna. Get to the Watchtower. We need to see if this is a worldwide phenomenon we failed to notice."

Knitting finished as of last night! Still need to weave in a few ends, wash, and block.

Attn: Mike Johnson

House Reps get a daily $79 per diem for meals.

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