Chapter Two
The sun had set and now New York City seemed to take on a different life. A few stores were closing up due to after hour sales and after-hour shoppers. Restaurants were now taking the trash out and cleaning the last group of dirty dishes. The few lively places equipped with outdoor parties and clubs were located a little a ways from the restaurant and vender districts, giving the workers of this sect a sense of true tranquility.
Near an empty alley away from the street vender part of the city, a nondescriptive black van pulled up revealing six men that herded out carrying large empty bags. The group was now heading onto the shopping strip, moving toward an exclusive jewelry store.
One of the six, a man of smaller stature lagged behind getting nervous at the shoplifting aspect of the night. The leader of the group, a stout and husky sort of man, turned around. "Come on Ralph! Hurry't up will ya? I don't got all night, ya hear?"
Ralph nodded with hesitation and then dropped his bag with the leader looking on. "What're doin'? Are you stoned or you really just that stupid?"
Ralph shook his head earnestly, picked up the bag and ran up to catch up with the rest of the guys. The leader, Alvaro, turned around to address the group.
"Al'ight guys. You got the plan down 'ight? I don't want no screw- ups. J-Dog, go break the window, and run to the van and the rest of ya go into the store a grab as much as you can. Al'ight?"
The group nodded. J-Dog went into his position, taking out a brick out of his backpack and put it in his hand. Before J-Dog could throw it however, someone, mysteriously, took the brick out of his hand and somersaulted and landed on the ground, facing toward the group. "Hiya."
The group looked at the stranger who was camouflaged in the dark, with wide eyes. Alvaro wasn't impressed though.
"What do you want you little freak?" The figure stepped out of the darkness. It was Spider-man.
Alvaro started to get impatient. "I said what do you want you little Halloween freak?
Spider-man turned his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. It hurts my feelings."
Alvaro laughed at the figure that was crossing his arms across his chest and turned around to face his hunch men. "Come on guys. Get rid of this guy. He's starting to annoy me."
Ralph shook his head and fell down on the cold asphalt. "No, Boss! That's Spider-man! He's dangerous!" Ralph got up and started to run. After a couple of seconds, he tripped on the asphalt.
Spider-man was still in his casual position watching Ralph get up, run and trip almost with satisfaction. The hunch men looked at Alvaro and then at Spider-man who was almost facing their boss.
"I. don't know. boss. Maybe.let's just go!" said J-Dog inarticulately. He dropped his bag and started to run away from the strip following Ralph. The other hunch men followed the same example and headed away from the scene. Spider-man and Alvaro stood alone, facing each other. Spider-man broke the silence.
"Maybe you should follow your friends. It is past your bedtime. I surely don't want to be the cause of you getting grounded again."
Alvaro just looked at him and smiled a vile grin. "I wouldn't worry about that ya insect. Plus, you're gonna be the one grounded." He suddenly took a crow bar and swung it, attempting to hit it to Spidey's stomach. Spidey leaped and somersaulted and handed on the other side of Alv.
"Hello. Miss me?"
Alv spun around and as soon as he did that, Spidey tripped Alv, who ungracefully, landed hard on his back. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Spidey said as he was leaving. "A spider is not merely an insect, it's an arthropod."
As he was launching a web from his wrist, he heard Alv say something with strain. "You're. gonna. PAY!!!"
Then suddenly he moved quickly, pulled out a knife, and slashed Spidey's forearm. Spider-man cried out in pain and angrily side- kicked Alvaro into some trash cans. Spidey launched a web from his wrist and went into safety before he was hurt again.
Getting on top of a school building, Spider-man angrily ripped off his mask revealing a sweaty, red and depressed face of Peter Parker. Peter lowered himself slowly on the platform holding his forearm. He pulled back the spandex of his uniform covering the wound and exposed it, watching the blood ooze out with remarkable speed.
Pete crawled a few meters to grab his bag with his street clothes. He took out a towel and wrapped his wound up. A few tears ran down his cheeks and he began to put his street clothes on with care taking in account his cut forearm. He handled the arm with care, but it wasn't the cause of all of his pain. He wiped his tears away. As he climbed down to the ground, he wondered why he didn't sense that last attack.
****
It was 9 o'clock the next morning and Peter woke up to a throbbing head, the overall sense of soreness and the smell of pancakes filling the flat. Peter frowned as he looked down. He had went to sleep with his jeans, flannel jacket and tennis shoes on. He swung his legs over on one side of the bed, leaning over and tousling his hair that was soaked with sweat. He sat there for minutes, gazing in a indifferent and remorseful sort of way wondering how he got to be such a mess. He looked down at his injured arm and saw that it still had not healed and the blood had soaked up most of the towel. He shook his head wondering why all of a sudden he was not able to heal faster. He went into his medicine cabinet and took out a cloth bandage. As he was on his last "coat" of bandage, Harry called up to Peter.
"Pete! Ya alive?"
Peter regarded the comment darkly and murmured "no" to himself. With the realization that he couldn't go downstairs in the same clothes that he wore yesterday, Peter looked around, looking for something else to put on. He picked up a New York University t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants off the floor and put them on quickly. As he put the pants on, he tripped and fell hard on the ground.
"Pete? Are you okay?"
Peter groaned quietly. He finally put his sweatpants on, rustled his hair to have the appearance of just waking up. Before he headed down stairs he gave a sleepy look facade on his and yawned an award-winning yawn to compete the fabrication. 'I hate doing this' he told himself.
As he made his way down the stairs, he noticed that Harry was at the kitchen table reading the business section of the paper. He looked up at Peter and grinned.
"Gee, Peter. You look terrible." Harry grinned and continued. "Did you have a wild night?"
Peter yawned another fake yawn and nodded. "Yeah, you know me."
Harry smiled again and pointed to the stove area. "I made pancakes. Jackie gave me some tips on making better pancakes. I think they turned out well."
Peter shook his head giving another award-winning performance along with a sleepy look. "Nah, maybe later. I'm not that hungry."
Harry nodded and walked over to pancakes and started to put them
into containers. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. We didn't have anything
planned today or tomorrow did we?"
"No. Why?"
"Well," Harry said, "I was going to spend both days with Jackie. She wants to go to the Renaissance fair."
"Oh. Okay."
"You can come too." Harry said. "It'll be fun."
"Ah, no. I'm not a Renaissance type of guy." Peter said. "Plus, I'm going back to Queens this weekend."
"Back to Queens? Why on Earth would you do that?"
"To visit and to can with Aunt May."
"Can?"
"Canning tomatoes." Peter explained. "I used to do it a lot when I was a kid."
"Cool." Harry said sarcastically. "Do you wanna get out of it? I can rescue you."
"No, thanks." Peter said. "If I really wanted to do that, I wouldn't be able to go anyways. Aunt May wants me to can with her friends that are coming over."
"To can?"
"To can." Peter said with a forced smile.
The sun had set and now New York City seemed to take on a different life. A few stores were closing up due to after hour sales and after-hour shoppers. Restaurants were now taking the trash out and cleaning the last group of dirty dishes. The few lively places equipped with outdoor parties and clubs were located a little a ways from the restaurant and vender districts, giving the workers of this sect a sense of true tranquility.
Near an empty alley away from the street vender part of the city, a nondescriptive black van pulled up revealing six men that herded out carrying large empty bags. The group was now heading onto the shopping strip, moving toward an exclusive jewelry store.
One of the six, a man of smaller stature lagged behind getting nervous at the shoplifting aspect of the night. The leader of the group, a stout and husky sort of man, turned around. "Come on Ralph! Hurry't up will ya? I don't got all night, ya hear?"
Ralph nodded with hesitation and then dropped his bag with the leader looking on. "What're doin'? Are you stoned or you really just that stupid?"
Ralph shook his head earnestly, picked up the bag and ran up to catch up with the rest of the guys. The leader, Alvaro, turned around to address the group.
"Al'ight guys. You got the plan down 'ight? I don't want no screw- ups. J-Dog, go break the window, and run to the van and the rest of ya go into the store a grab as much as you can. Al'ight?"
The group nodded. J-Dog went into his position, taking out a brick out of his backpack and put it in his hand. Before J-Dog could throw it however, someone, mysteriously, took the brick out of his hand and somersaulted and landed on the ground, facing toward the group. "Hiya."
The group looked at the stranger who was camouflaged in the dark, with wide eyes. Alvaro wasn't impressed though.
"What do you want you little freak?" The figure stepped out of the darkness. It was Spider-man.
Alvaro started to get impatient. "I said what do you want you little Halloween freak?
Spider-man turned his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. It hurts my feelings."
Alvaro laughed at the figure that was crossing his arms across his chest and turned around to face his hunch men. "Come on guys. Get rid of this guy. He's starting to annoy me."
Ralph shook his head and fell down on the cold asphalt. "No, Boss! That's Spider-man! He's dangerous!" Ralph got up and started to run. After a couple of seconds, he tripped on the asphalt.
Spider-man was still in his casual position watching Ralph get up, run and trip almost with satisfaction. The hunch men looked at Alvaro and then at Spider-man who was almost facing their boss.
"I. don't know. boss. Maybe.let's just go!" said J-Dog inarticulately. He dropped his bag and started to run away from the strip following Ralph. The other hunch men followed the same example and headed away from the scene. Spider-man and Alvaro stood alone, facing each other. Spider-man broke the silence.
"Maybe you should follow your friends. It is past your bedtime. I surely don't want to be the cause of you getting grounded again."
Alvaro just looked at him and smiled a vile grin. "I wouldn't worry about that ya insect. Plus, you're gonna be the one grounded." He suddenly took a crow bar and swung it, attempting to hit it to Spidey's stomach. Spidey leaped and somersaulted and handed on the other side of Alv.
"Hello. Miss me?"
Alv spun around and as soon as he did that, Spidey tripped Alv, who ungracefully, landed hard on his back. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Spidey said as he was leaving. "A spider is not merely an insect, it's an arthropod."
As he was launching a web from his wrist, he heard Alv say something with strain. "You're. gonna. PAY!!!"
Then suddenly he moved quickly, pulled out a knife, and slashed Spidey's forearm. Spider-man cried out in pain and angrily side- kicked Alvaro into some trash cans. Spidey launched a web from his wrist and went into safety before he was hurt again.
Getting on top of a school building, Spider-man angrily ripped off his mask revealing a sweaty, red and depressed face of Peter Parker. Peter lowered himself slowly on the platform holding his forearm. He pulled back the spandex of his uniform covering the wound and exposed it, watching the blood ooze out with remarkable speed.
Pete crawled a few meters to grab his bag with his street clothes. He took out a towel and wrapped his wound up. A few tears ran down his cheeks and he began to put his street clothes on with care taking in account his cut forearm. He handled the arm with care, but it wasn't the cause of all of his pain. He wiped his tears away. As he climbed down to the ground, he wondered why he didn't sense that last attack.
****
It was 9 o'clock the next morning and Peter woke up to a throbbing head, the overall sense of soreness and the smell of pancakes filling the flat. Peter frowned as he looked down. He had went to sleep with his jeans, flannel jacket and tennis shoes on. He swung his legs over on one side of the bed, leaning over and tousling his hair that was soaked with sweat. He sat there for minutes, gazing in a indifferent and remorseful sort of way wondering how he got to be such a mess. He looked down at his injured arm and saw that it still had not healed and the blood had soaked up most of the towel. He shook his head wondering why all of a sudden he was not able to heal faster. He went into his medicine cabinet and took out a cloth bandage. As he was on his last "coat" of bandage, Harry called up to Peter.
"Pete! Ya alive?"
Peter regarded the comment darkly and murmured "no" to himself. With the realization that he couldn't go downstairs in the same clothes that he wore yesterday, Peter looked around, looking for something else to put on. He picked up a New York University t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants off the floor and put them on quickly. As he put the pants on, he tripped and fell hard on the ground.
"Pete? Are you okay?"
Peter groaned quietly. He finally put his sweatpants on, rustled his hair to have the appearance of just waking up. Before he headed down stairs he gave a sleepy look facade on his and yawned an award-winning yawn to compete the fabrication. 'I hate doing this' he told himself.
As he made his way down the stairs, he noticed that Harry was at the kitchen table reading the business section of the paper. He looked up at Peter and grinned.
"Gee, Peter. You look terrible." Harry grinned and continued. "Did you have a wild night?"
Peter yawned another fake yawn and nodded. "Yeah, you know me."
Harry smiled again and pointed to the stove area. "I made pancakes. Jackie gave me some tips on making better pancakes. I think they turned out well."
Peter shook his head giving another award-winning performance along with a sleepy look. "Nah, maybe later. I'm not that hungry."
Harry nodded and walked over to pancakes and started to put them
into containers. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. We didn't have anything
planned today or tomorrow did we?"
"No. Why?"
"Well," Harry said, "I was going to spend both days with Jackie. She wants to go to the Renaissance fair."
"Oh. Okay."
"You can come too." Harry said. "It'll be fun."
"Ah, no. I'm not a Renaissance type of guy." Peter said. "Plus, I'm going back to Queens this weekend."
"Back to Queens? Why on Earth would you do that?"
"To visit and to can with Aunt May."
"Can?"
"Canning tomatoes." Peter explained. "I used to do it a lot when I was a kid."
"Cool." Harry said sarcastically. "Do you wanna get out of it? I can rescue you."
"No, thanks." Peter said. "If I really wanted to do that, I wouldn't be able to go anyways. Aunt May wants me to can with her friends that are coming over."
"To can?"
"To can." Peter said with a forced smile.