This Doesn't Look Like Kansas…

By Elisabeth <>

Rated G

Submitted December 2007

Summary: A young Clark needs a little help finding his way home.

I was just reading C.Leuch's Rhapsody in a Blue Sky ( when inspiration struck. While not nearly as poignant or descriptive as Cindy's work, hopefully this piece will put a smile on your face.


He worried with the phone cord as he listened to the incessant ringing. At long last, a friendly voice answered the phone. "Hello?"

"You've received a collect call from Clark Kent. Will you accept the charges?"

The pause stretched interminably. For a moment Clark worried his father would decline. He willed his father to do the right thing since the circumstances were so misleading.

"Sir?" the operator prompted. "The call is from Clark Kent. Will you accept…"

"From Clark? Sure, I'll accept the charge."

There was a slight click as the operator rang off the line.

"This is Jonathan Kent," his father stiffly said. "Who did you say was calling?"

"Dad? It's me, Clark," he reassured his father. The confusion was understandable since Clark had been in the kitchen such a short time ago. Still he was in a crisis right now and he needed a clear-headed adult to talk him through it.

"Clark? What's this about, Son?"

Clark fumbled for words. How could he explain all that he had done that day? "Well, It's just that… Well, I gave my only money to this guy playing sax, and I thought the call would cost more than that anyway."

Dad's voice was gruff as he interrupted, steering him back to the original topic. "Son, what are you trying to tell me?"

Clark gulped. The truth gushed out. "Dad, I'm lost."

"Lost? How could you be lost? You were just going to the barn."

"Well, I did. But there was this cat up in the loft, and then…I probably should wait until I'm home to tell you the next part. But then I went out to the fallow field; you know, where I raised my 4H sunflowers when I was 10. And that's when I decided to go look around."

"So, whose house are you calling from?" Jonathan wondered, "…and why call collect?"

"I'm at a Mobil Station on County Road G, but I'm not sure which county I'm in. The sign says, 'Welcome to New London,' but it doesn't say which state. The phone number has a 785 area code, so I think I'm getting closer. I've already been to a New London today, but that was area Code 314. I've seen three Springfields, two Rolling Prairies and two O'Fallons. But all I want is Smallville, Kansas."

"We'll get you home, Son. I promise," Jonathan vowed. Clark heard him cover the receiver. "Martha, get me the Road Atlas. I think it's in the den."

Twenty minutes later, Clark hurried in the back door. From 3000 feet all of the roads looked so similar, but thankfully his father was able to give very good directions. While he had enjoyed the world, he was never so glad to be home.