Three days after leaving Texas, Li Jie saw the road sign.
Welcome to Smallville-America's best small town (selected by Heartland magazine, 1997)
The lettering on the sign had faded, and rust marked its edges. He drove his used minivan off the interstate and followed a two-lane asphalt road.
He had no idea what he could do in Smallville. Maybe he just wanted to see what kind of place could raise someone like Clark. A guy with enough power to overturn a continent, yet who chose to type away in an office building, help firefighters rescue cats from trees, and catch robbers.
The scenery outside the window was monotonous. An almost unchanging sweep of wheat fields and barns, with the occasional irrigation sprinkler tracing a silver arc.
The car slowly entered the town center, which wasn't quite what he had imagined. He had expected the rugged ranch scenery of Flint Town, or the Gothic gloom of Gotham. But this place... was too ordinary.
Neat lawns, white picket fences, a redbrick post office, a grocery store with wind chimes. A few children rode bicycles down the street, their baskets carrying books they had just borrowed from the library. Everything fit the model of a Midwestern small town.
Li Jie parked outside the Smallville diner. Wind chimes jingled as he pushed the door open.
The lunch rush had just ended, and only a few tables were occupied. A waitress in her forties, wearing a plaid apron, was wiping down the counter. She glanced up at him. "Sit anywhere. Menus are on the tables."
He chose a window seat and ordered a meatloaf sandwich and coffee. While he waited, he watched the street through the glass.
In Gotham, you could read tension and vigilance in people's strides, as though they were always ready to