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sparkinyouDon't ask Miles how he somehow avoided getting caught and killed by a super villain. Even he didn't know. It was just hiding behind something and good old dumb luck. Considering his day, Miles wasn't sure it was even that.
He just watched something a 15 year old kid should never see. A world almost ending and a man being beat to death. Is it any wonder why he went home?
As soon as he was crawling through his bedroom window, Miles already began to regret it. He obviously made too much noise because the next thing he knew his bedroom door was being kicked open and his father was shouting.
"Police! Put your hands up!!"
Miles flinched and looked up at his Dad.
"..Miles?"
His father's hands went to his side in confusion.
"Why aren’t you at school?"
Not knowing what to say or even begin, Miles just ran over and hugged his Dad, looking for any kind of parental comfort. Hoping that everything would be all right.
"Whoa, whoa, it’s ok," his father said quietly as he gently returned the embrace, rubbing the back of Miles' head like he did when Miles had skinned a knee or had a bad day at school. The next thing he knew, his mom was next to them all, her hand on the side of Miles' face.
"Miles? Que te pasa? Did something happen at school?"
Miles stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say. "Hey Mom and Dad, I got bit by a radioactive spider and watched a man die" didn't seem very appropriate. Where do you even begin?
"Can I sleep here tonight?" Miles asked. Maybe in the morning he could make sense of it all.
Immediately, Miles' father went into "dad-mode". "Miles, it’s a weeknight. You made a
commitment to that school."
"Jeff. He's upset."
There was a sigh. And then understanding. Mom was always good about bringing that out in his Dad. "Of course you can stay."
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you really hate Spider-Man?" Miles knew the answer. There wasn't a week that went by that he didn't hear his Father complain about that vigilante. Miles knew the answer. But for some reason now that it was him who got bitten that-
"...Yeah?" Jefferson Davis was confused about the question from his son, especially now in the middle of the night but that wasn't going to stop him. "I mean, with a vigilante-"
His mother rolled her eyes and began shoving his father out the door. "Jeff, mi amor..."
And now his father was even more confused. "What? He asked me. Baby, you know how I feel about Spider-Man, C’mon."
Miles sighed and laid down on his bed as his mom shooed his father out the door. Next thing he knew his Mom was leaning over him and rubbing his head.
"Tu sabes que el te quiere mucho... That’s why he’s tough on you, you know that, right?
Miles couldn't think about that right now. All he could hear were Spider-Man's words echoing through his head. About everyone dying.
"Mom, do you ever think about moving out of Brooklyn?"
His Mom smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "Our family doesn’t run from things, Miles."
"Yeah, I know." Hey Mom, there might be a black hole under Brooklyn in the next couple of days. Should we run away from that? Yeah. That would only get him committed.
She patted his cheek and left the room. From where he was laying, he could hear them talk about him. They were worried. His dad once again talking about commitment and being tough. His mom talking about him being scared.
She was right. But for the wrong reasons.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the USB key that Spider-Man had given him, trying to figure out what to do next. Go back? Tell his parents? Leave an anonymous tip to the police?
-He has everyone in his pocket
Yeah. No.
And it was then he heard the television in the next room.
"Sad news tonight. The hero known as Spider-Man has died after injuries related to another powerful earthquake in Brooklyn."
...
Yeah. Coming home was not giving him the comfort he sought. Nor was it going to make anything better.
Quietly getting out of bed, Miles crawled out the window and wandered the streets. Everywhere he went he saw people staring at their cellphones. Each one reacting to the death of a hero. If only they knew what really happened.
"A memorial service in Queens will be held honoring the passage of New York's own superhero. Spider-Man, now known as Peter Parker, age 26, was a grad student at-"
He continued to wander, until he found himself in front of a costume store that had just opened. For a non-Halloween holiday it was pretty busy.
And it had Spider-Man costumes.
You need to hide your face. You don’t tell anyone who you are. No one can know.
And suddenly Miles found himself getting in line. And after a bit of time he was standing in front of the old man who apparently owned the place.
"I’m going to miss him," the old man said ringing up the purchase.
Miles just shrugged in response.
"We were friends you know."
Miles wasn't sure if that was true. He looked at the Halloween costume. One size fits most
"Can I return it if it doesn’t fit?"
The store owner smiled in response. "It always fits. Eventually."
Yeah. Right. The costume did not fit. But the mask did. It covered his entire head. And considering that everyone was wearing a costume at the memorial service, at least he wasn't alone.
He stood in the crowd and watched a woman who was apparently Peter Parker's wife address everyone.
"My husband Peter Parker was an ordinary person. He always said it could have been anyone behind the
mask. He was just the kid who happened to get bit. My favorite thing about Peter is that he made us each feel powerful. We all have powers of one kind or another. But in our own way, we areall Spider-man."
"And we’re all counting on you."
It was amazing the words and the impact they had on him. Miles had barely known Peter. Barely even ten minutes. And now.
"They're all counting on me," Miles said aloud to himself.
"Probably not you specifically," said a guy standing next to him, also wearing a mask. "I think it's just a metaphor."
Maybe for everyone else.
An hour later Miles was standing in the middle of Brooklyn looking up at a tall building. In his hand was an over-priced "True Tales of Spider-Man" gripped in his hand. It was the supposed "true origin" Of Spider-Man with Peter's secret identity hidden. In the story Peter had jumped off a roof of a building to see if he could truly be a hero.
Miles swallowed hard. It was time to find out if that was true for him as well.
"Nope."
Yeah. No. That's a long way down. Now the building next to it?
Yep. Should have tied the shoe laces.
Miles groaned and pulled himself off the street. Luckily no one had seen him fall. Luckily he was not dead. But if the leap had told him anything? It was that he didn't know what he was doing.
It was late by the time he got to Queens. He found out where the family service had been and following the trail of flowers and small small memorials he eventually foud the grave of Peter Parker. The man who had saved Miles' life. The man who had entrusted him to save the city. And Miles had fallen short.
He stood in front of the grave not sure what to do. So... he talked.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I think I really messed it up. I want to do what you asked. I really do, but... I’m sorry. I’m not sure I’m the guy. I can’t do this without you."
Suddenly there was a hand on Miles' shoulder which quite frankly scared the shit out of him.
"Hey, kid-"
Miles spun around pushing out with his hand and trying to shove the guy away from. And in an instant everything went blurry. The hairs on his arm stood on end. A sensation starting from his gut began to emanate out and into the man who had touched him. The next thing Miles new a bolt of energy shot out from his hands, launching the stranger into the air and knocking him back ten feet.
Miles looked down at his hands. "What did I do?"
And who was the stranger on the ground in front of him?'
He looked like Peter. He was even wearing the costume. But the hair was wrong and he looked older.
And... thicker.
"Who are you?"
But that answer would have to wait as suddenly there were shouts and suddenly Miles was having guns pointed at him by the PDNY.
He grabbed the body of what he assumed was Peter Parker and ran for his life.
[NFI & NFB.]
He just watched something a 15 year old kid should never see. A world almost ending and a man being beat to death. Is it any wonder why he went home?
As soon as he was crawling through his bedroom window, Miles already began to regret it. He obviously made too much noise because the next thing he knew his bedroom door was being kicked open and his father was shouting.
"Police! Put your hands up!!"
Miles flinched and looked up at his Dad.
"..Miles?"
His father's hands went to his side in confusion.
"Why aren’t you at school?"
Not knowing what to say or even begin, Miles just ran over and hugged his Dad, looking for any kind of parental comfort. Hoping that everything would be all right.
"Whoa, whoa, it’s ok," his father said quietly as he gently returned the embrace, rubbing the back of Miles' head like he did when Miles had skinned a knee or had a bad day at school. The next thing he knew, his mom was next to them all, her hand on the side of Miles' face.
"Miles? Que te pasa? Did something happen at school?"
Miles stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say. "Hey Mom and Dad, I got bit by a radioactive spider and watched a man die" didn't seem very appropriate. Where do you even begin?
"Can I sleep here tonight?" Miles asked. Maybe in the morning he could make sense of it all.
Immediately, Miles' father went into "dad-mode". "Miles, it’s a weeknight. You made a
commitment to that school."
"Jeff. He's upset."
There was a sigh. And then understanding. Mom was always good about bringing that out in his Dad. "Of course you can stay."
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you really hate Spider-Man?" Miles knew the answer. There wasn't a week that went by that he didn't hear his Father complain about that vigilante. Miles knew the answer. But for some reason now that it was him who got bitten that-
"...Yeah?" Jefferson Davis was confused about the question from his son, especially now in the middle of the night but that wasn't going to stop him. "I mean, with a vigilante-"
His mother rolled her eyes and began shoving his father out the door. "Jeff, mi amor..."
And now his father was even more confused. "What? He asked me. Baby, you know how I feel about Spider-Man, C’mon."
Miles sighed and laid down on his bed as his mom shooed his father out the door. Next thing he knew his Mom was leaning over him and rubbing his head.
"Tu sabes que el te quiere mucho... That’s why he’s tough on you, you know that, right?
Miles couldn't think about that right now. All he could hear were Spider-Man's words echoing through his head. About everyone dying.
"Mom, do you ever think about moving out of Brooklyn?"
His Mom smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "Our family doesn’t run from things, Miles."
"Yeah, I know." Hey Mom, there might be a black hole under Brooklyn in the next couple of days. Should we run away from that? Yeah. That would only get him committed.
She patted his cheek and left the room. From where he was laying, he could hear them talk about him. They were worried. His dad once again talking about commitment and being tough. His mom talking about him being scared.
She was right. But for the wrong reasons.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the USB key that Spider-Man had given him, trying to figure out what to do next. Go back? Tell his parents? Leave an anonymous tip to the police?
-He has everyone in his pocket
Yeah. No.
And it was then he heard the television in the next room.
"Sad news tonight. The hero known as Spider-Man has died after injuries related to another powerful earthquake in Brooklyn."
...
Yeah. Coming home was not giving him the comfort he sought. Nor was it going to make anything better.
Quietly getting out of bed, Miles crawled out the window and wandered the streets. Everywhere he went he saw people staring at their cellphones. Each one reacting to the death of a hero. If only they knew what really happened.
"A memorial service in Queens will be held honoring the passage of New York's own superhero. Spider-Man, now known as Peter Parker, age 26, was a grad student at-"
He continued to wander, until he found himself in front of a costume store that had just opened. For a non-Halloween holiday it was pretty busy.
And it had Spider-Man costumes.
You need to hide your face. You don’t tell anyone who you are. No one can know.
And suddenly Miles found himself getting in line. And after a bit of time he was standing in front of the old man who apparently owned the place.
"I’m going to miss him," the old man said ringing up the purchase.
Miles just shrugged in response.
"We were friends you know."
Miles wasn't sure if that was true. He looked at the Halloween costume. One size fits most
"Can I return it if it doesn’t fit?"
The store owner smiled in response. "It always fits. Eventually."
Yeah. Right. The costume did not fit. But the mask did. It covered his entire head. And considering that everyone was wearing a costume at the memorial service, at least he wasn't alone.
He stood in the crowd and watched a woman who was apparently Peter Parker's wife address everyone.
"My husband Peter Parker was an ordinary person. He always said it could have been anyone behind the
mask. He was just the kid who happened to get bit. My favorite thing about Peter is that he made us each feel powerful. We all have powers of one kind or another. But in our own way, we areall Spider-man."
"And we’re all counting on you."
It was amazing the words and the impact they had on him. Miles had barely known Peter. Barely even ten minutes. And now.
"They're all counting on me," Miles said aloud to himself.
"Probably not you specifically," said a guy standing next to him, also wearing a mask. "I think it's just a metaphor."
Maybe for everyone else.
An hour later Miles was standing in the middle of Brooklyn looking up at a tall building. In his hand was an over-priced "True Tales of Spider-Man" gripped in his hand. It was the supposed "true origin" Of Spider-Man with Peter's secret identity hidden. In the story Peter had jumped off a roof of a building to see if he could truly be a hero.
Miles swallowed hard. It was time to find out if that was true for him as well.
"Nope."
Yeah. No. That's a long way down. Now the building next to it?
Yep. Should have tied the shoe laces.
Miles groaned and pulled himself off the street. Luckily no one had seen him fall. Luckily he was not dead. But if the leap had told him anything? It was that he didn't know what he was doing.
It was late by the time he got to Queens. He found out where the family service had been and following the trail of flowers and small small memorials he eventually foud the grave of Peter Parker. The man who had saved Miles' life. The man who had entrusted him to save the city. And Miles had fallen short.
He stood in front of the grave not sure what to do. So... he talked.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I think I really messed it up. I want to do what you asked. I really do, but... I’m sorry. I’m not sure I’m the guy. I can’t do this without you."
Suddenly there was a hand on Miles' shoulder which quite frankly scared the shit out of him.
"Hey, kid-"
Miles spun around pushing out with his hand and trying to shove the guy away from. And in an instant everything went blurry. The hairs on his arm stood on end. A sensation starting from his gut began to emanate out and into the man who had touched him. The next thing Miles new a bolt of energy shot out from his hands, launching the stranger into the air and knocking him back ten feet.
Miles looked down at his hands. "What did I do?"
And who was the stranger on the ground in front of him?'
 |
He looked like Peter. He was even wearing the costume. But the hair was wrong and he looked older.
And... thicker.
"Who are you?"
But that answer would have to wait as suddenly there were shouts and suddenly Miles was having guns pointed at him by the PDNY.
He grabbed the body of what he assumed was Peter Parker and ran for his life.
[NFI & NFB.]
