Spiderman's Reward
The Lord looked down and sorted through the Threads, seeing at once the totality as well as the individual Nows. As happened from time to time, He ventured far from the probabilities that constitute what we mere mortals term "reality". These insubstantial ghosts of things that might be, or might have been, these shadowy beings had no substance, no reality and no afterlife. This, of course, did not prevent them from doing good or evil, and he had servants in these realms as he did in all the totality of Nows.
Here, though, in the improbable realms, heroes and villains alike simply died the death and occupied no further Nows. He saw and was greatly saddened. The girl the servant loved so dearly was doomed, in part by the servant's own actions, though through no fault of his. That monster, who appeared almost exactly as he was, as Evil Incarnate, hurled the young girl toward her death.
The Lord stopped to consider, excluding all but this Thread from his vast Consciousness. The servant shook with rage and pain, his body racked with sobs. Could the girl be saved? An Intervention?
He looked to the subsequent Nows, the event shapes the servant's life. Despite the tragedy of her death, good came from it. No, there would be no miracles today. Still, this servant deserved better. He would spend his whole life fighting evil against all odds, succeeding again and again, preserving his Thread. He would die in sadness with the girl's name on his lips, old, forgotten, and alone.
"No, this must not be," thundered the Lord. The monster looked up, momentarily distracted, almost hearing the voice of the Lord. The Now had passed, though, and the girl had passed with it. Shortly after, the monster passed as well, leaving the servant, the hero, standing over the monster's body.
This servant, this hero... would have his miracle, more of a miracle than he could even conceive of. But he would be dragged through the pain of mortality first. The Lord gathered the soul of Gwendolyn to His bosom before it could dissipate, and began to clothe her with reality, bringing her ever nearer to the Thread that was truly real.
He held her sleeping thus, for a Now or an Eternity. While she slept, He made connections in the minds of men, talented men with imagination and skills they did not fully comprehend themselves. First, that one... that Stan Lee, and this one... Steve Ditko... other connections were made... other men to chronicle the servant's story.
When at last, the man Stanley breathed his last, he stood before the Lord. "You have done well, Stanley," said the Lord. "I have one final task for you before you move on to your own reward. There is a girl, who must be kept for another. You will keep her, you will explain to her, you will befriend her." The man Stanley frowned in confusion until a servant of the Lord came forth with the woman Gwendolyn. Then, understanding came to his features as he took the burden of the sleeping woman. "When will he come?" he asked of the Lord. "Soon," the Lord said, "soon."
Euripides read through the sports page. Vincent had certainly been right about Raymond, and James had been granted a fine game as well. The quarterback Bart would be drafted in a few more years, and then, Vince promised, "Heaven will really see a team!" He did a quick check... no, Bart was still relatively young and healthy... though that did not matter as much as one might think.
The phone rang and he picked it up, still trying to finish the article. "Hello?" he answered it absent-mindedly. "Yes, Sir," he said, eyes widening as he stood up. "Jack? Well, he is off shift, Sir... yes, I think I can find him. He usually goes to... of course, Sir, I'll go find him right away. Weegee? Yes, I'll bring him along."
He hung up the phone and sprinted for the door. It never occurred to him to summon a subordinate. A Mission given by the Boss directly was rare and wonderful... and a Summoning? Jack was either in bad trouble or had really distinguished himself. Euripides replayed Jack's last few articles in his mind as he sprinted down the stairs to Weegee's realm. All were well-written, but none significantly better than any of the others.
He found Weegee standing in front of the door to his darkroom squinting through an Agfa loupe at a large B&W print. He had to be careful not to burn the print with his cigar... but he'd had a lifetime of experience and then some.
"Weegee," said Euripides, out of breath, "grab a camera and come with me.
"Where are we going?" Weegee asked, dropping the cigar on the floor of his office and crushing it underfoot. He grabbed a heavy Speed Graphic with the omnipresent flash-gun attached to it. A camera bag bulging with Press-25 flash bulbs and several 4x5 film holders was unceremoniously scooped up on his way out to follow the editor who had already begun climbing the stairs back to ground level.
"We have to find Jack," explained Euripides. "He has been Summoned."
"Summoned? What did he do!?" As was usual, a cab was waiting on the curb. Cabs were always waiting when anybody wanted one. Nobody had ever determined how... but miracles were common enough in Heaven, so no one thought it odd.
This one was a Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost and read Bay City Cab on the side of it. Ted, of course, was driving it.
"Where to?" he asked as his passengers got in. "AB's Place," said Weegee before his boss could reply. There was, of course, no traffic on the golden street, and all the lights were green. The weather was, warm without being hot... perfect for a ride in a classic convertible. Something odd purred under the hood, though.
Before his passengers could ask, though, Ted supplied the answer. "Got Eugene to install an engine out of a P-51 Mustang. Had to strengthen the frame a bit, but she shoe-horned in just fine. He also worked on the suspension and the brakes... we don't have to go on the autobahn, but you should see her at speed!" Ted loved his car.
AB's Place was a Heavenly bar that was never crowded and always had what you wanted, whether it was a rare vintage of cognac or a long-thought-lost companion. Jack was sitting in a booth talking to Carole and his son. Euripides hurried over to them.
Weegee stepped in behind him and looked around the place. Mae Ling sat at another booth typing on a laptop keyboard. She was oblivious to the men surrounding her, busy instructing apt to download the latest mutt .deb package. There was, of course, no Windows OS here, as Bill hadn't made the cut... Linus had, though.
"Hi Mae Ling," said Weegee hopefully.
"Hi Weegee," she answered non-committal. "Busy... meet me here tomorrow at noon. We'll set up an appointment for a beach shoot."
"OK."
"Jack," said Euripides.
"Yeah, boss?"
"You've been Summoned."
No further words were wasted and they hurried out of the bar, Euripides grabbing Weegee by the elbow and dragging him away from Mae Ling's company.
"Bye," he said forlornly as the door swung closed behind him.
Mae Ling looked up to see the door close. She shook her head and smiled. Men were sooo amusing.
Ted was waiting with the motor running, having decided to wait. The three men piled in and Ted pulled the Rolls out toward the autobahn. He handed goggles to his passengers and smiled with glee. The House of the Lord was out a bit, overlooking the City of Heaven... and Ted would have a chance to try his car out... at speed.
The trip was invigorating and Ted's passengers thanked him as they got out, paying with a pile of gold coins from each pocket. The ride through the clouds hanging over the autobahn had almost removed the nervousness they all felt at being Summoned.
They approached the door as a group, but a cherub stepped forth and stopped them. "Euripides, this is not your Summoning," it said. Cherubs were usually dour creatures, but this one smiled a bit.
"You'll get your chance one day, now head back out so Ted can move his cab, we need the parking place." It slung its M1 and marched back to its station by the door.
As Ted pulled away with Euripides, a vehicle came down from above and took their former parking place. The Lord, was busy, as usual, but this was a day he had waited for with anticipation, even though he could go "ahead" and see it any time he wanted to.
"Jack!" He said, bustling over to shake Jack's hand.
"How good to see you." "Thank... you, Lord," said Jack nervously. This was not at all what he had expected.
"Oh, stop worrying!" said the Lord sternly. "You're here, aren't you? In Heaven? You've got nothing to worry about any more."
"But Weegee," he said, his face growing cross, flashing a wink to Jack before he turned to face the photographer, "those were dangerously close to impure thoughts when you were talking to that young lady. What have you to say for yourself?"
"Lord, I am sorry... I try..." blustered Weegee nervously. He didn't know anyone who had been thrown out of Heaven, but he'd heard stories.
"Oh, relax!" snapped the Lord. "I didn't need to Summon you if I wanted to send you down there... if I wanted to do that, I could snap my fingers. Just like that," he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. Of course, thunder crashed in the distance.
Weegee wisely said nothing and began to studiously listen as the Lord explained what he required of them both. As promised, a strange vehicle waited outside. It had an open top, was blue in color and had a number four on it. They both clambered in and the driver started the turbines for a vertical takeoff.
Weegee dropped his cigar over the side. Nobody had said anything about flying. As they passed over the city, a blond woman wearing a purple mini-skirt, a green coat, and high boots looked up and smiled. Perhaps today was the day. She adjusted her head-band and donned her helmet before getting on her Honda and headed off to home. Stan, she knew, would be waiting patiently as he always did.
Weegee began to get used to flying, even snapped a few pictures of Heaven from above. He had plenty of film, and only one picture to take. It was a commissioned image, though, and had to be perfect. He checked his equipment one more time.
The Gates were surprisingly quiet, and Pete was waiting for them when their fantastic mode of transport settled down to the golden pavement. A lone figure stood in the gate, not sure yet, that he wasn't dreaming. He'd survived countless battles against monstrosities so evil they defied description. The final enemy, though, had been entropy. He'd died in his sleep at a ripe old age... passing on the torch to the next generation of super-heroes.
"Come on in, Peter," coaxed Pete. "I am so honored that you and I share the same name. I have long wanted to meet you, you see."
"Your name is Peter?" asked the man. He looked down at his un-explicable rejuvenated self.
"Yes," answered Pete. "I am often called Saint Peter here, but you know, we're all saints in this place."
"This is... Heaven?"
"This is Heaven," said Jack.
"Peter, this is Jack," said Pete. "You may know him as Jack London."
"Call of the Wild? White Fang?"
"Among others," said Weegee. "You... I know you. I've seen your work... you're Weegee! You should have changed the hypo more often, some of your prints are fading."
"I'll take it under advisement, young feller," said Weegee good naturedly. "I understand you are a photographer yourself." "I... was... but..."
"Settle down now," said Pete. "Get yourself into the car and Jack will explain everything to you on the way home." The driver made the trip take more time than was strictly needed, but the view was terrific, so no one complained. Jack had much to explain and was barely done when they arrived.
They landed on a grassy knoll outside a small stone cottage with a '69 Ford Mustang out front on the cobblestone driveway. The front door opened and a young woman stepped outside.
"Gwendy?" asked the young man. "Is this real? Is she..."
"Well," began Jack, "you remember how I was explaining that some of the threads are more real than others? You came from one of the threads that are not real, in a sense. The Lord saw what happened, though and didn't want your work to go unrewarded."
"In your thread, there is no Heaven or afterlife, when you die there, you stay dead. So he brought you here. This could not happen in a simple way though, so he put your life in the minds of men... talented men who chronicled your life story. Their work was published in comic book format and became extremely popular."
"Everyone here knows you, and you are loved by all who do know you."
"But... you say everyone knows me... and they know who I really am... and..."
"Relax," said Jack. "There are no super-villains here. No Green Goblin, no Dr. Octopus, no Venom. Not even a petty thief."
"But Gwendy... is... she real?" "She looks real to me, son," said Weegee with a smile. "Why don't you go over and find out?"
As Spiderman approached his lost love, Weegee took several steps to the side getting a beautiful shot of the reunion that never would have been.
Euripides looked at the front page. "Welcome Home Spiderman", proclaimed the headline. He sat it down with satisfaction. The Lord Himself requested a copy of the original print featured under the headline from Weegee. Surprisingly, Weegee had actually refused to deliver that day... said something about needing to change the hypo. The Lord had smiled and told the man OK... with an admonishment to think pure thoughts next weekend at the beach.
Peter Parker would be starting work at the paper in just about a month... after his long-overdue wedding and subsequent honeymoon. It had been many years since a child had been born here in Heaven. But somehow, Euripides knew that there would be one again soon.