#blackcharacter

The Kansas sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the golden fields surrounding the Kent farm. Nine-year-old Clark Kent sat on the porch steps, his legs swinging back and forth as he watched the dust trail behind the moving truck rolling down the narrow dirt road. The truck creaked to a stop beside the neighboring farmhouse, a place that had been empty for as long as Clark could remember.

Clark tugged at the edge of his flannel shirt, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. New neighbors weren’t exactly common in Smallville, and the idea of meeting someone new made his heart race a little. He glanced back at the screen door behind him, where his mom, Martha Kent—or Ma Kent as everyone in town called her—was finishing up in the kitchen.

“You ready to meet the new folks?” Ma asked as she stepped out, carrying a large apple pie wrapped in a checkered cloth. Her smile was bright, but she had a keen way of noticing when Clark was uneasy.

“Yeah, I guess,” Clark replied, his voice a little higher than usual. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jittery.

Ma laughed softly and set the pie down for a moment, kneeling beside him. “They’re just people, Clark. Probably nervous, just like you are. But what’s the best way to meet new folks?”

Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning. “With kindness,” he said, parroting what Ma had told him a hundred times before.

“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair gently. “Now come on. Let’s give ‘em a proper Smallville welcome.”

Clark hopped off the porch, his boots kicking up little puffs of dirt as he and his mother made their way across the field that separated their farm from the neighbors’. He could see two men unloading furniture from the truck, lifting a couch and a couple of boxes toward the house. A woman stood nearby, shading her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the work. As Ma and Clark approached, the woman turned toward them and smiled.

“Hello there!” Ma Kent called out cheerfully, waving with her free hand.

The woman wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to greet them. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her brown skin glowed in the sunlight. She looked warm and welcoming, the kind of person who could put anyone at ease with just a smile.

“Well, hello!” she said, her voice bright and full of energy. “You must be the Kents! I’m Flora Johnson. We’ve heard so many good things about you already.”

“And we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you,” Ma Kent replied, offering the pie with both hands. “We brought a little something—hope you all like apple pie.”

Flora’s eyes lit up as she accepted the pie. “Apple pie? Oh, this is just perfect! Thank you so much, Martha.” She handed Ma Kent a large glass jar filled with amber-colored honey. “My husband and I keep bees, so here’s a little something from our hive. You’ll never find better honey.”

Clark stood quietly by Ma’s side, his eyes flicking between the two women. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to speak, and he felt like he was too big to hide behind Ma’s skirt but too shy to just stand there.

Flora seemed to notice Clark for the first time, her eyes softening as she bent down slightly to his level. “And who’s this handsome young man?”

“This is my son, Clark,” Ma Kent said with a proud smile. “Clark, say hello to Mrs. Johnson.”

Clark’s ears burned red as he mumbled, “Hello, ma’am,” keeping his eyes on the ground.

Flora chuckled softly. “A little shy, huh? Don’t worry, my daughter’s the same way. She’s around your age, but she’s probably hiding out in the barn right now. She’s not too thrilled about moving.”

Ma Kent gave Clark a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Clark? I’m sure she’d love to meet someone her own age.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, but the idea of meeting someone new tugged at him, curiosity outweighing his nerves. “Okay,” he said, giving his mom a quick nod before walking toward the barn, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

As he rounded the side of the barn, he spotted a girl standing on the other side of a wooden fence. Her curly black hair, tied back with a red scarf, bounced as she tried to scramble over the fence. Her overalls, covered in tiny embroidered flowers, were dirt-smudged, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she pulled herself up, one foot barely managing to hook over the top rail.

Clark watched for a moment, biting back a laugh, before stepping closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

The girl startled, her grip slipping as she dropped back down to the ground with a soft thud. She spun around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m tryin’ to leave,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her overalls as she glared at him. “What’s it to you?”

Clark blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Leave? But… you just got here.”

Layla frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it here. What if the people here are mean? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t wanna be here.”

Clark tilted his head, thinking for a second before he stepped a little closer. “I’m not mean. And you know me now.”

The girl huffed but didn’t say anything, her stubbornness starting to crack a little.

“I’ll be your friend,” Clark said simply, his voice full of warmth. “That way, you don’t have to worry about not knowin’ anyone. I’m Clark, by the way.”

Layla’s frown slowly melted into something softer as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m Layla,” she said quietly, kicking at the dirt with her boot. “You really wanna be my friend?”

Clark shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Why not? We’re neighbors, right? And I don’t got many friends either.”

Layla’s eyes widened a little, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. She glanced back at the fence for a moment, then at Clark. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t seem like a bad neighbor.”

Clark smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and happiness spread through him. “And you don’t seem so bad yourself.”

Layla took a step forward, a little more confident now. “So… what do you do around here? Is there anything fun?”

Clark thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, there’s a creek just down the hill. We can catch frogs and stuff. And sometimes Pa lets me drive the tractor. It’s pretty cool.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “You can drive a tractor?”

Clark puffed out his chest a little. “Yup! Well, mostly just steer it. But it’s still fun.”

Layla giggled, the sound light and free. “Alright, that sounds kinda fun. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.”

Clark beamed, glad that he had managed to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you the creek. It’s not far.”

Layla hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay, but you better not trick me.”

“I won’t!” Clark said with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “Promise.”