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Chapter 6: Following
Peter and Erica walked up to the front door of a house in a street of nearly identical houses; it was neater than some, but it also looked as if it hadn't changed in forty years. "Wait till you see inside," Peter whispered as he knocked. The door was opened by a thin elderly lady, wearing an old floral house dress over a track-pant outfit. Her eyes lit up when she saw Peter. "Peter!" she cried, and reached up to give him a peck on the cheek. He gave her a quick hug and a kiss in return.
"You must be Erica!" she said, and Erica found herself in a quick embrace as well. "Come inside, both of you, out of the chill air." She bustled them both through.
"How exciting for Peter to have a long lost cousin!" Aunt May exclaimed, as she fussed over them, "And all the way from the other side of the world!" Erica was led directly into the living area. It was as if she'd stepped back in time. Olive green walls set off a couch and a couple of easy chairs upholstered in an orange and white abstract fabric. White antimacassars covered the chair backs and arms, and cushions were placed symmetrically on either end of the couch. Erica sat down gingerly. In front of her was a wood-grain formica coffee table on thin wire legs, and in the corner was a big TV in an old cabinet, with a vase of flowers, roses, on top. Curtains matching the upholstery were closed against the darkening evening. Peter winked at Erica, amused at her astonishment.
"Where are you staying?" Aunt May was saying, "You're welcome to stay here you know."
"I'm in a small hotel quite close to where Peter lives. It's convenient for me at the moment, but thanks for your offer."
"Well, it's an open offer if you need a change. Now, tell me more about your family." Aunt May sat upright in one of the easy chairs.
"I'm afraid I don't have a lot of details about the family, apart from my immediate family that is," said Erica, "Time and distance has made them hard to find out much about them."
"Ben may have been able to tell us more, but even he didn't know that much about Mary's family." She sighed. "I'm fixing the last bit of dinner, It'll be ready soon. Do you want to freshen up? I'm sure you'd also love to see Peter's old room - Peter, take her upstairs and show her. But don't be too long!"
"Can I help?" offered Erica. There was the smell of a casserole coming from the kitchen.
"No, no. Go on with you." She fluttered her hands at them. Peter gave his Aunt a smile of affection.
"This way," he said. Upstairs he paused outside a dark door. "Aunt May loves her independence." Then pushing open the door, he proclaimed "Welcome to the childhood sanctuary!" Erica moved inside in wonder. It really was a shrine to childhood. All of Peter's school awards were framed and hung on the blue walls. Artwork and obviously amateur photography filled the spaces the awards didn't. On shelves along one wall were books and models that Peter had made. They were mostly scientific models - dodecahedrons and working electrical circuits and the like. A small desk was under the window. It too was covered with books, models and photos. The single bed had a candlewick bedspread, and neatly folded down sheets.
"I don't know what to say!" said Erica.
"Aunt May keeps it this way so that I can have somewhere to stay if I need to. But really, I think she still likes to show all my past achievements off to visitors!"
Erica giggled. "You're lucky. My mum threw out most of my childhood stuff when I left home. I didn't have a say in what she chucked." She glanced wickedly at Peter, "I was devastated. All my drawings, my exercise books of stories, my Spider-Man comics…"
"Come on," he grinned. "Mustn't keep dinner waiting…"
Erica saw the dining table had been set with what must have been the best crockery. As she sat down, Aunt May came in with a casserole dish and laid it on a scenic place mat in the centre of the table. Already set out on other mats were side dishes of beans, carrots and baked potatoes. The glass ware and cutlery sparkled. "Oh, you needn't have gone to so much trouble!"
"Nonsense," Aunt May replied, "No trouble at all. Peter, if you could say the grace please."
During dinner, Erica had to answer many questions about her family, and about her country. Peter mostly let Aunt May do the talking for him. She was used to that - she still thought of her nephew as the painfully shy boy he had been. But it was interesting to hear a bit of Erica's background, and growing up in a different culture to his own.
"…My father used to love fishing - he spent loads of time away at weekends off fishing. The few trips he took me on were a disaster - I wasn't interested at all. I don't think he really understood I actually liked having my head in a book! Though I did end up liking the sea…" She was telling about her real family, he was sure; it was just that there wasn't a connection further back to his own. "…day tramps in the Orongorongos, but 4WD's even manage to zoom around there!"
"Isn't that just fascinating Peter?" Aunt May asked him, "Fancy being able to travel less than twenty minutes from a city and be able to walk through farmland and woods!"
After dinner, Peter insisted that he and Erica would wash up. "You've done enough Aunt May for this evening - you go and put your feet up." He ushered her into the lounge into one of the easy chairs, where she promptly took some knitting from a bag by the side and set to work. "Good girl," he smiled, and went back to the kitchen. As they finished the dishes, Peter put some coffee on to brew. "I don't think Aunt May has any tea," he said apologetically.
"That's O.K, but I don't think I'll have any coffee if that's all the same. I'm starting to get buzzy enough without it!" Erica grinned. Peter could sense her excitement now that the evening was almost over. He knew that Aunt May would like to talk for a quite a while, but he thought he could make their excuses before too long - the journey back downtown, and so on...
Erica gave Aunt May a hug. "Thank you so much for the lovely welcome and the delicious meal. I really appreciated it."
"My dear,' said Aunt May, as they were about to leave, "I'm just happy to know that Peter has some family at last. I'm not getting any younger you know… You take good care of her now, Peter!"
A few yards down the road, Erica groaned. "Ohh, I really do feel guilty about making up that story about being family. Poor Aunt May. I hope I don't hurt her feelings too much when…"
"She had a lovely evening, and she needn't know the truth,." interrupted Peter. "I've become quite adept at telling tales myself; I'll work something out." It was dark out now. Peter said "We'll catch a bus closer to the city - it's a long way to walk, or even swing that far."
"Whatever you say," replied Erica.
A while later they alighted from the bus, at a point still in Queens. "This is far out enough - it's quiet and the buildings aren't so high." They walked a block over and along until they reached an alley way.
"I'll wait for you here," he said. Erica slipped silently into the deeper shadows. Soon after, an arm appeared around the corner, holding out a carrier bag to Peter. He took it bemusedly, and moved to look around the corner. Nobody there. He grinned, and looked up. Two large white eyes glinted at him just inches above his head. The figure in the shadows was clinging upside-down on the brick wall. Suddenly it turned and with a fluid motion crawled rapidly up the wall of the building until it reached the top. Then it leapt and disappeared. Peter glanced around, what was she up to? He kept looking up at the gap where the sky showed, waiting for her to come down again.
There was a tap on his shoulder.
"Eep!" He jumped and whirled around. Spider-Man was standing there. "Jeez!" Don't do that!" Peter exclaimed. He felt that behind the mask, Erica was laughing at him. "O.K, so I'm so not used to being sneaked up on!" He leant against the wall and took a deep breath. He could see that Spider-Man (Woman?) wasn't even breathing hard.
"You did well. Now for web-slinging practise. Can you carry me up to the roof of this building?"
"Piggy-back?' She hitched Peter on her back. "Hang on!" and climbed the building just as rapidly as she had the first time. She didn't even seem to notice her extra burden. Peter clung tightly to the carrier bag until they reached the roof top where Erica set Peter gently down. Peter thought that if she were to impersonate him, he should get used to thinking of her as Spidey, regardless of the fact she was the wrong gender. She certainly seemed to have overcome any fear she had about the wall-crawling. He supposed it was partly the costume; being Spider-Man.
"All right then…" muttered Peter as he scanned the roof and the surrounding buildings. "Web-slinging is a mix of practise and instinct. The instinct for equilibrium comes with the job; practise is practise. But seeing you in action so far, I think you'll need less than I did starting out. It's like… an exaggerated swinging on a child's jungle gym. You should be fine… though it might be a little…unsettling…to begin with." He paused.
"I think I'm willing to give it a go now," she said.
Peter had to agree; if she thought she was ready, she was ready. He was nervous on her behalf, remembering his first real attempt at web-swinging. Was he more nervous than she? It certainly appeared that way. Peter pointed out the streets surrounding a large block of buildings. "Take your time. Once around the block and back!" he said.
Spidey stepped confidently to the edge, hopped up onto the ridge and paused to turn to Peter and give him the thumbs up. Then she jumped and was gone. Peter ran over to the side and looked down the street. Already she was flinging out a second web-line, and anticipating the end of the arc of her swing for the next one. He sucked his breath in, in awe at how amazingly she was handling the web-slinging already. A bit jerky, but... Then she disappeared from view. Peter settled down, his back against the ridge, to wait.
He didn't have to wait long. He saw a dim red and blue figure appear over the edge, turn a somersault and land, crouched, a couple of yards away. Peter got to his feet as Spidey did. He went up to her as she stood, waiting, silent. They eyed each other.
"Wheeeee!" All of a sudden, Spidey gave a huge leap, did another somersault. "That was cool fun! I'm absolutely stoked!" She laughed, delighted.
Peter grinned and laughed with her. She was almost jumping up and down in her excitement. "Whoa, calm down! You did brilliantly!"
"Thanks."
"How…?"
"Remember? I used to crew on a tall ship. I'm used to handling ropes from heights."
Peter pretended to be aggrieved. "Ropes? Ropes? Sheesh, next you'll be wanting to dress in bell-bottoms and call yourself 'Super Sailor'."
Spidey giggled - a very un-Spidey like sound. "What now?"
He reached into a pocket and brought out a small object which he showed to Spidey. It looked a little like some child's trinket sitting there on his palm, a tiddley-wink with legs. "See this?"
Spidey leaned in for a closer look. "Is that… is it a spider-tracer?" she asked.
"Ah, yeah." Peter was a bit startled - she'd done it again, showing a knowledge that only a very few people knew. "Once I activate it, you'll be able to home in on it from anywhere by using your spider sense. I thought it might be useful tonight for a couple of reasons; good practise for you, using a different aspect of the spider sense, and well, so you don't get lost!" He turned the device over, pressed something on the underside, and put it back in his pocket. He looked up to see Spidey with her head on one side. Peter was certain that if he'd been able to see under the mask, Erica's face would have had a abstracted expression of concentration on it.
Presently she spoke. "I can feel a… a buzzing. Not like a warning of danger, more just there if you know what I mean."
Peter nodded. "You'll find it changes as I move away from you. Like 'hot and cold'. Rely on your spider-sense to guide you and you'll be fine."
As he was speaking, Spidey had been moving to the other side of the rooftop, experimenting, and now she came back to where he was standing .
"I see," she said. "It's quite different actually experiencing it. Weird. Where do we go from here?"
"I'm going to catch a bus home. You can follow the bus, meet me when I get off." He glanced at the edge of the building. "I'll need a lift down first though."
"Sure thing!" And as soon as Peter bent to pick up the carrier bag again, Spidey grabbed him by the waist and jumped off down into the gap above the alley. Peter closed his eyes in shock at the suddenness, but Spidey raised an arm, and they were gently reaching the ground on a strand of web. "Does the bus go over the bridge or through the tunnel? It'll make a difference." asked Spidey.
"The bridge." replied Peter. "You've been studying up already?" He didn't wait for an answer, but turned towards the street. "See you later," he said, and when he glanced back a moment later, she was gone.
He walked to the bus stop, and once there, checked the time on his watch. Good, not long to wait for the next bus. He reflected on the night so far. It was an odd thought to think he was being watched over on the trip back to the apartment - like having a guardian angel.
"Heh." He chuckled quietly to himself. There weren't many people about, and the traffic was normal. He'd better watch out for the bus - it might pass by else. Sure enough, it would have passed if he hadn't stepped closer to the curb. A couple got off, and once on, Peter walked to the back of the bus to take a seat. As the bus started off, Peter twisted around to look out the back window. He could see no sign of Spidey.
He sat back, with the carrier bag between his knees. Erica's clothes. He wished he had brought a book with him, but he hadn't thought of it. He'd forgot how deathly public transport could be. He looked around at the other passengers on the bus. Some were reading, some listening to music and others, like him, staring into space. He read the advertisements and then the bus notices in desperation. As they neared the approaches to the Queensboro bridge, he again twisted around to look out the back. No Spidey. Peter hoped she hadn't got lost, or got into trouble of some sort. There was nothing he could do if she had. He supposed this was what it felt like being a parent, and seeing your child go off on his own. He smiled to himself; some child!
The bus rumbled on in the night. Peter tried glancing out the windows every time the bus stopped, but had to admit the view out of them was limited. As they neared Midtown, and his stop, he heard an almost indefinable thud above his head. He sighed in relief and relaxed. Only then did he realise how tense he'd been.
Getting off the bus, he pointedly avoided looking back at it, and started walking slowly down the sidewalk; about a block later, he wondered where Spidey was. He was passing some store doorways, when out of the shadows in front of him, a figure stepped out. For a moment, he thought it was her, but a second later he saw the streetlight glinting off the blade of a knife, and saw that the figure was much larger and bulkier. He felt no fear; he had dealt with tougher guys than this. But when the mugger came near, the knife pointed towards Peter's eyes, he quelled slightly.
"Give me the bag!" The mugger demanded as he thrust the knife closer. Peter instinctively stepped back.
"Hey, big guy!" a voice called. And when both Peter and the mugger turned to look, another figure appeared suddenly out of the darkness. This one though, came out of the sky, and landed clinging to the nearby lamppost.
"Why don't ya pick on someone smaller?" With that, Spidey leapt off the lamppost and landed directly between the mugger and Peter. In a movement almost too fast to be seen, the web-slinger snatched the knife off the mugger, broke the blade in two, "What, no snappy remarks?" and threw the remains with accuracy into a garbage can a couple of yards away without even looking.
Peter tried not to laugh at the expression of pure disbelief on the mugger's face; the top of Spidey's head only came up to the mugger's shoulders, and yet the guy's expression changed to one of terror, and he turned to flee. Spidey jumped and flipped right in the path of the fleeing man.
"Come on, give me a chance!" pleaded Spidey, and as the panic-stricken mugger tried to push past, she quickly struck out lightly with her fist and downed him. As Peter ran up, Spidey looked down at the crumpled form at her feet. "Now what?" she whispered, "What do you do with them once they're… subdued?"
Peter gave the man a little shove with his shoe. "This one I'd just leave. He was so terrified, it'll be a long time till he pulls a stunt like that again. If they're not so subdued, then web 'em and leave them for the authorities. " He paused and looked at Spidey. "Thanks. I was almost in trouble there."
"No problem, but I think you were in trouble."
"Heh. As a native New-Yorker, my next step would've been to give the bag to the mugger like he wanted. He would've run off. But I was about to try and disarm him… like I used to…"
"Just as well I stepped in then,' she said in mock horror, "You would've given my clothes away!" She stopped and was momentarily very still. "I gotta go", she said quickly, "See you back at the flat." And with that Spidey leapt away, flinging a web in front of her as she went. Peter watched her go, 'flat' what? and then heard the sound of feet running up behind him.
"Hey man, are you all right?" A couple of men came up, and looked curiously at Peter, and then at the recumbent mugger on the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I'm O.K."
"Wow, was that Spider-Man? I thought he was dead or something," said the other, "What did he say to you?"
"He told me to keep out of trouble," replied Peter, bursting into laughter.
Peter let himself into his apartment a few minutes later. He found Erica already there, still in costume, though she had taken the mask off. She ran her fingers through her hair when she saw him, saying almost too brightly "Didn't you ever suffer from hood-hair?" Peter dropped the carrier bag on the floor and shook his head as he sank onto the couch. He felt drained somehow. Seeing Erica in action had been a mix of pride, possessiveness and…yep, jealousy still. Erica picked the bag up and put it on the table. "Just as well the window was open - you must've got into that habit." She peeled off the gloves and laid them on the table next to the mask already there.
She glanced at the web-shooters now exposed on her wrists. "You're right, I do need to practise. I put you in danger having to disarm that guy manually. I should have been able to web the knife away, but I knew I only had one chance, and I didn't want to risk missing - buildings are much larger and easier targets!"
"Never mind, it worked out, you did well," said Peter from the depths of the couch. He lifted himself up just enough to get at his pocket and pull out the active tracer. "How'd it go with the tracer?" he asked, as he disengaged the battery. He watched her remove the shooters.
"I didn't lose you. I even took a few detours to try it out further. Kinda weird though, having that as a constant background 'noise'." She laid the shooters on the table too.
Peter tossed the tracer at her, which she deftly caught and placed it with the rest of her costume's accessories. Peter remembered something odd that had been niggling at the back of his mind the last few minutes. "It's only struck me - your voice… was different there."
"Of course it was. I consciously disguised it - lowered it and tried to put on an American accent. Did I sound like you?"
"Hmmph. Better check the web shooters - check them periodically when you're using them, and make a habit of it when you take them off. That LED there warns you if you're running out of web fluid."
Erica checked them. "How do you fill them?"
"I've devised a way… which reminds me, I'd probably better make up some more fluid, since I haven't needed to recently. But I think I'll do that tomorrow. It's late, and I'm bushed." He hauled himself up out of the couch and headed for his room. He turned to look at Erica, who was standing there with one hand on the table. "Thanks," he said, and closed the door behind him. Erica studied the closed door for a minute, then shrugged. She supposed she better follow Peter's example. She glanced at the web shooters by her hand. A minute later, she was gone.
Next morning, Peter was up early. He was in a better frame of mind this morning, cheerful even. Last night, he had had very mixed feelings about Erica as Spider-Man. He knew he had offered to train her, but it felt almost as if she were taking over a part of him that had been a part of all his adult life. He realised that it would be extremely difficult to walk away from his life as Spider-Man…if he wanted to. He wasn't sure about it at all. This morning he woke resolved to help as best he could - who knows, he may even be training his successor.
As early as it was, Erica was already up. She had put the coffee on, and was pouring a cup for him as he walked blinking into the living area. "Here", she said passing him the cup "I can see you're not human until you've had your morning cup."
He smiled at her. "My only vice," he said.
"Yeah, right." She smiled back. Peter thought she was more subdued this morning - not hard after her elation last night. He sipped his coffee thoughtfully, as he went over to the window to check on the weather. Overcast. Probably rain later. He saw Erica had laid out a couple of bowls on the counter, and had the cereal box out. She picked up the cup of tea she had made for herself.
"Eurgh!" Erica shuddered. Peter looked round in surprise, prepared to spring into action if needed, but couldn't see anything wrong.
"Cockroaches!" exclaimed Erica, shuddering again. "Dirty great big ones!"
Peter was relieved. "Is that all? Don't you have roaches in New Zealand?"
"Yeah, but not that big. I hate 'em!"
"What about spiders?" teased Peter straight-faced.
"Oh, they're O.K." she replied off-handedly. Peter wasn't certain if she was teasing him in return, but her next remark made it plain she was.
"In fact, I have rather a liking for spiders…" she grinned, "Wetas, now... if you came to New Zealand, I'd be able to show you a few wetas - they'd freak you out, as much as the cockroaches freak me."
"I bet."
As she took her cup of tea over to the small table, he poured cereal into the bowls, added milk and grabbed a couple of spoons, then took their breakfast over to the table and set the bowls down.
"Not as fancy as your breakfast yesterday, but sure to give the long-lasting energy burst of pure carbohydrates!" he said as he sat down in the other chair. He noticed that the bits of the Spider-Man costume were no longer on the table.
"I thought your favourite breakfast was wheat-cakes."
"Wheat-cakes!" exclaimed Peter, "Only Aunt May feeds me those. I can't stand them, but I'll eat them for her."
"Masochist. Ah, well I guess the comic books don't know everything then." Erica concentrated on finishing her breakfast, avoiding Peter's eye. He watched her, trying to gauge what it was about her that unsettled him. It couldn't just be the Spider-Man deal; there was something about her. He drank his coffee, then started on his cereal, still wondering. The odd snippets she knew about him? Or was it…was she still holding something back…?
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Next: A good chat, and a couple of unexpected meetings.