Chapter Three

"Mom. I am fifteen years old. And for fifteen years, you neglected to tell me, that my dad, Peter Parker...was Spider-Man?" I shouted. A bunch of pigeons perched on the fence fluttered past the living room window.

"Mayday, keep your voice down!" Mom took a swallow of the coffee she had just pulled boiling out of the microwave. Her voice was calm, but her knuckles were white from gripping the cup.

"Keep my voice down? Keep my voice down?" My voice rose even higher. "I don't know, Mom, it's a little hard to do under the circumstances!"

Mom stood up and set the mug down on the coffee table. She took me by the shoulders and steered me to the sofa. "May. Listen to me. Calm...down."

I sat down on the sofa, staring at Mom, who sat down in the armchair across the coffee table. "All right, I'm calm. Tell me."

Mom sipped her coffee, then said, "Why did you skip school?"

"Mom!" I gaped at my mother, appalled. "Tell me!"

"All right. All right. We...I should have told you this a long time ago." Mom turned the coffee cup in her hands. Sweaty fingerprints glistened and vanished.

"Your dad…when he was in high school, about your age, he was bitten by a spider. A 'genetically enhanced superspider' the guide said. We were on a field trip, you see, to Columbia's bioengineering labs."

I simply sat there, frozen, as Mom spun the story, from mutant spiders and superpowers to crime fighting and life-saving. The square of morning sunlight crept across the carpet towards the window as I stared at my mother, my brain still frozen in the "My dad's a superhero" part.

"You wouldn't believe some of the scrapes he got me out of," Mom chuckled sadly. "I never knew it was him, of course. It just seemed like I had a superhero watching over me everywhere I went."

Dad, during college, had needed a job, so he became a freelance photographer for the Daily Bugle, owned by none other than the Spider-Man slanderer J. Jonah Jameson.

"Wait, but Dad was his Spider-Man photographer!" I blurted. "You mean Jameson was paying Dad to take pictures of himself?" I burst out laughing, my astonishment temporarily dissolving into hilarity. I had met Jameson only once, a few years ago, when all four of us had been invited to a company Christmas party. He was a short, scruffy looking man that shouted his opinions at the top of his lungs and appeared to be wearing a dead badger on his head instead of a toupee. It had been kind of the family joke after that. The heroic struggle between Spider-Man and his fiendish nemesis, the evil Badger-Man.

Mom laughed too. "Exactly. Jameson would probably have a coronary if he knew."

Mom continued with Dad's story. Villains came into it, people like the Green Goblin, and Kraven, and Scorpion. Dad had beaten them all, of course. I vaguely remembered news reports from years ago, video footage of Spider-Man flying through the city on web lines, tackling costumed lunatics and criminals.

"I found out right before we got married," said Mom. "We were so worried that you and Benny would inherit Peter's abilities. We didn't want either of you to have to live with that kind of responsibility. We didn't want you to be put in the kind of danger he faced every time he put on that suit."

Dad. Spider-Man. Superpowers.

I felt my eyes widen. Dad's abilities...like climbing walls, shooting web lines, strength, speed, agility...

It couldn't be! But it had to be! Jennifer Banda couldn't lay a fist on me, that creep on the street corner couldn't get near me...

My fingers clung to doors and walls, I could run for half an hour...

And just yesterday, I had gotten sick...

I had Dad's powers!

I grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table and gulped it down. I couldn't believe it. But it had to be true. There was no other explanation. Then, another thought hit me.

"Mom, if Dad's Spider-Man, then where is he?"

Mom set her coffee mug down on the table. She swallowed. "I don't…I don't know, Mayday."

The little bubble of hope burst. But Mom had to know what had happened! Dad wouldn't have just left us, would he? "You...you don't know? How could you not know?"

"I don't know, Mayday. I don't know!" Mom clenched her hands together so hard that the color drained from her knuckles. "He went out, one night, five years ago, as always. And he never came back. Nothing unusual was going on, no dangerous criminals, nothing! I don't know what happened!

"He always meant to retire," Mom continued agitatedly. "After we got married, and you and Benny were born. But things kept coming up. He never could ignore what was happening in the city. And now..."

Suddenly, Mom lunged forward and wrapped me in a tight hug. I hugged her back, guilt making the corners of my eyes prickle. I wished I had never brought this up, never found out.

"Oh, Mayday, I'm so glad you're safe. I'm so glad that you'll never have to deal with any of that."

But I am going to have to deal with that!

I had Dad's abilities! How was I going to explain this? What would Mom think? I'd already messed things up enough without this!

What could I do? How could I tell Mom now? After all of this? She had enough to worry about already, managing two jobs, taking care of me and Benny on her own...

I hugged her back, my mind made up.

No.

I couldn't tell her now.