Chapter Nine
Mary Jane frantically pushed her way through the police barricade, toward the big, burly N.Y.P.D. Officer responsible for crowd control. "Spider-Man's hurt," she cried. "Get somebody up there before the fire gets to him!" The fire was burning out of control on the upper floors, its flaming tendrils lapping less than five feet from where the webslinger lay.
"Take it easy, lady," the cop said, "We're doing everything we can. He's too high up for any of us to reach, but an emergency medical evac chopper's on the way. Now get back behind the barricade and watch out for flying glass."
Just as Mary Jane had turned around, her almost-father-in-law was practically in her face, her bridegroom two steps behind. Jameson abruptly shoved his way past her and started yelling at the cop. "What are you waiting for? Arrest that wall crawling menace! Get up there and take his mask off before he gets away!"
Unlike his high-level superiors, and most of the city's political class, however, the officer was not intimidated by the pompous publisher. For that matter, the cop didn't even know who he was. "I'm sorry sir," he replied frostily, "but we can't reach him from below, and even if we could, this man has rights."
"The hell he does!" Jameson barked back. "He's trampled on everyone else's rights for too long, and now he has to answer for it!"
Suddenly, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. "Look! He's getting up!" It was true. Somehow, miraculously, Spider-Man was on his feet. His costume was covered with soot, but otherwise, he appeared none the worse for having swallowed a ton of smoke. He briefly waved to the crowd below, signaling that he was alright, and was answered by sustained applause, much to the chagrin of J. Jonah Jameson. Then he fired his webline, and slowly, tentatively swung away, over the rooftops and out of sight.
"Excuse me," said a familiar voice from behind Mary Jane. The minister had worked his way through the crowd and had found his way to where the Jamesons, father and son, were standing. "I'm afraid we will not be able to return to the church for a day or two," he explained to John. "We can wait, or, if you prefer, we can finish the ceremony right here."
"Mary Jane," John asked, "What do you want to do?"
But Mary Jane was in a different frame of mind. She had been following Spider-Man's trajectory and appeared to be intent on following him. She turned back to John, a sorrowful, apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry John," she said sadly as she removed her engagement ring from her finger.
Jonah Jameson saw what was happening. His face turned red. He looked like a volcano about erupt. "Just where do you think you're going, young lady?" he demanded angrily.
"As far away from you as I can get!" Mary Jane snapped as she turned back to John and handed him the ring. "I can't deal with him anymore," she said with a finality which signaled in no uncertain terms that their relationship was over. She turned from him and started to walk away.
John's eyes widened in shock. His face had the look of a man who was about to lose everything. "Mary Jane, please," he begged. "We're all shocked and upset by what happened today. Let's just take a few days to calm down and think things over." He grabbed her arm.
"Let go of me!" Mary Jane shouted, twisting away.
Jameson sprang to his son's defense. "So help me, Mary Jane," he warned harshly. "If you walk out on us now, after what we spent on this shindig, you're finished! I'll sue your pretty little butt off! I'll use every ounce of influence I have in this town to make sure you never work again, not even as a prostitute!"
Mary Jane had reached her threshold moment. In front of numerous witnesses, including two reporters from a rival tabloid, she spit right in his face. "Go screw yourself, Jonah!" she hissed. Then she disappeared into the crowd.
"Nice going, Dad," John said bitterly as the witnesses clapped their hands and cheered. Grinning from ear to ear, the two reporters hastily jotted down notes. One of them whipped out his cell phone to call their editor.