The Tramp

That afternoon, Mr. Reynolds suddenly said he had an interview to cover and hurried out of The Daily Planet. Before leaving, he told Jay not to wait for him if he had not returned by the time Jay got off work. So Jay tidied up a little and left the newspaper office, ending his first day as an intern.

It was already evening, and a faint glow of sunset hung in the sky. The sun gradually disappeared behind the clouds, while the remaining sunlight dyed them the color of burning fire. As Jay stepped out of the building, he felt the whole street bathed in warmth, and his mood could not help but brighten as well.

Carrying his briefcase, he happily walked home, his thoughts wandering without direction, yet they always drifted back to Kara's image. For six whole years, he had always felt as though an invisible wall separated him from all the other normal people. Most people who knew him thought he was withdrawn and aloof, difficult to get along with only because he was too outstanding.

Whenever school let out, the other students would travel in groups of twos and threes. When they saw Jay walking alone in the distance, his tall figure stretching long beneath the sunlight, they could not help pointing and whispering. To them, that silhouette seemed so tall and distant, an existence beyond their reach that they could only look up to. But they did not know that, to Jay, those groups who could chat nonsense together every day and make crude jokes were what he envied most.

Kara Kent's appearance made him truly feel for the first time in six years that I'm not alone. He could not wait to talk with her—about how she handled her double life, how she blended in among ordinary people. He had so, so many questions he wanted to ask.

But how was he supposed to explain it to her? Float to her window in the middle of the night and tell her that I'm actually a Kryptonian too?

Well, that sounded stupid, and he was not even sure whether he was a Kryptonian.

As he was lost in thought, a faint disturbance, almost too soft to hear, reached his ears. The messy shouts and sobs of what sounded like children, along with the sounds of hitting and scuffling, drifted over on a breeze. It sounded at least a block away; without super-hearing, he probably would not have been able to catch it at all.

Jay stopped, hesitated for a moment, then decided to follow the sound.

It was in a remote, deserted corner of Central Park, and the scene before him was much as Jay had imagined. A group of bigger boys had pinned a smaller boy dressed in black to the ground, raining punches and kicks on him while cursing incoherently. The boy in black helplessly covered his head and let them bully him, showing not the slightest intention of fighting back.

It was an infuriating scene, but not an uncommon one.

But since he had already seen it, Jay felt he could not simply ignore it. He stepped forward and sternly stopped the delinquents, shielding the poor little boy behind him. The boy stared up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, huddling behind his back. The delinquents were wary too. They did not come forward again, only threw out a vicious "Just you wait" before leaving one after another.

Jay turned around, smiled, and gently pressed the boy's forehead. "All right. You're safe now."

The boy's eyes widened. He said nothing, only continued sobbing. He looked terrified. Jay took him across the street outside the park and bought him a cup of hot cocoa. Only then did the boy barely stop crying, but until they parted, he did not say a single word—not even a thank you.

As Jay watched the boy walk away with the steaming cup in his hands, a voice sounded behind him. "So you really are a good person."

The voice was cold and low, with a strange tone that called to mind a violin with broken strings. He turned and found a disheveled The Tramp in a dark corner. His hair was greasy and unkempt, like a bird's nest perched on his head, and his jeans, apparently dug out from some garbage heap, were covered in patches. He had nearly blended into that filthy, dark corner. If he had not spoken, Jay would not even have noticed he was there.

"You must feel pretty good right now," The Tramp said. "Feel like a hero?"

Jay frowned slightly. "I only did what I should have done. I happened to pass by and saw something good I could do with hardly any effort. I had the ability to stop that child from being bullied, so I could not just stand by and watch. It's that simple."

"Hmph. As if it were really that simple." The Tramp snorted. "If anything in this damn world were ever that simple."

Jay thought this scruffy man was being utterly ridiculous. Maybe he should not have wasted his time arguing with him at all, but deep down, for no reason he could explain, he felt he had to argue the matter out with him. Dissatisfied, he said, "It sounds like you watched from the sidelines the whole time. You clearly could have stopped that child from taking more of a beating, but instead you just sat here in your little patch of ground and watched?"

"Because it would have been meaningless, and it would not really have helped that child," The Tramp said flatly. "You drove them away today, but they'll come back tomorrow. Maybe they'll take out today's spoiled fun on him too and beat him even worse."

"You mean what I did was meaningless?"

"Worse. You gave that child false hope. That will only make him fall harder next time."

Jay felt somewhat irritated. He thought The Tramp was simply being unreasonable, yet he could not say exactly what was wrong with his argument. He could only keep shaking his head. "You're too pessimistic."

"And you're too optimistic." The Tramp paused. "You remind me of an old friend."

"Then he must have been a good person."

The Tramp fell silent for a moment. For once, Jay saw a trace of faint sorrow in his clouded eyes, like that of an old man who had weathered countless hardships.

"He was," he said. "Far better than I ever was. But he died."

Jay froze for a moment. He suddenly felt that The Tramp must have many stories hidden behind him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

The Tramp shook his head and closed his eyes, seemingly determined not to speak again.

What a strange guy.

Thinking that, Jay stopped paying attention to him and left on his own. The Tramp sat in the corner, staring fixedly at his retreating figure, his gaze flickering until Jay disappeared at the end of the street without a trace.