CHAPTER EIGHT: The Consequences of Trying To Be A Hero



It was a Saturday afternoon. You know, the cliche kinda Saturday afternoon with the children playing, and the ice cream truck riding down the street playing his little ice cream music (well, in my neighborhood, he plays Jay-Z, but you get the idea). Well, anyway, I was on my way to see Tiffany, my lovely and talented girlfriend. Now, as fate dictates, every time I decide that I'm going to do something enjoyable, something just has to jump in the way and screw it all up. In this case, it was four guys on the corner arguing. Nothing new to me, I see it all the time. Here's the problem: the argument escalated into a fight, and within about two seconds, everybody had drawn guns. It was two against two, and two of the guys were in the process of backing up while firing. The worst part was, there were kids all over the place, and any one of them could have been hit. I ducked into an alley and changed into my costume, then I took to the rooftop.

Two of the fools that were shooting decided that it would be a good idea to run around while shooting. In fact, they ended up running to where some kids were playing. I knew that those kids would get hurt, but what the hell was I going to do? There was no time to think up a plan as to what I would do, so I just leapt off of the roof. Then, as I fell, I fired a web at a nearby lightpole. I swung in an arc over the street, where a little girl was sitting on her bike, about to get caught in the crossfire. I snatched her with my free arm and pulled on the webline, pulling my body up into another arc and landing on the other side of the street. I placed the girl down and saw that she was staring at me, probably in an attempt to comprehend what the hell I was.

"Go home," I said to her.

The little girl ran off, so I turned my attention back to the fight. As if I wasn't even standing there, the four fools kept their shootout going. I jumped towards the two closest to me, spread my legs in a midair straddle, and kicked both of them in the sides of their heads. The two guys on the other side of the street ran toward me with big smiles on their faces.

"Thanks for takin' them punks out for us, man," one of them said to me.

"Damn, that's a bangin' costume! Who you ride wit'?" the second one asked.

I wanted to say something very ignorant at that point. But I couldn't think of anything. So, I slapped the second guy in the face.

"Hold, what's good wit' you?" the first one said as he drew his gun on me. I grabbed his hand and crushed it, along with the gun.

"Don't think for a second that I'd ride wit' any of you punks," I said before slamming my fist into his jaw and sending him flying. I grabbed the second guy by his shirt and lifted him up. "Do you realize that there are kids on this block? You could have killed them! What the hell were you all out here shootin' for?"

"That guy...he was tryin' to talk to my sister..."

"And?"

"I don't want nobody talkin' to my sister, man!"

"You were willing to kill children, just because some guy you don't like was trying to talk to your sister?"

"I wasn't even aimin' for them kids! They got in the way!"

"You piece of shit, what did you think was going to happen?"

I slammed the punk down on the ground, and then I took the gun that he dropped and shoved it in his mouth.

"I should kill you right here, motherfucker," I said to him.

That's when my danger sense went off.

"Freeze!" somebody yelled from behind me.

Turning my head, I could see three police cars behind me, with several officers standing there aiming at me with their guns.

"Put down the weapon, now!" one of the officers ordered.

I dropped the gun and tossed the guy a few feet away from me. Then I turned to the police.

"Remove your mask and lay face down on the ground!" the same cop yelled.

"What are you, stupid? Don't you see these assholes layin' here? They could have killed every kid out here! What the hell are you arresting me for?" I asked.

"This is your last warning!"

"....Fuck it..."

With that, I fired a web at the lightpole and pulled myself onto it. Just as I was about to leap to the building across the street and leave, my danger sense pounded me in the head. That's when I felt the bullet.

Imagine somebody taking a very hot rock and ramming it through your skin and then making it burn your flesh on the inside. That's what it felt like. The bullet pierced the fabric of my costume, followed by my flesh, and settled inside of my right arm. I lost my balance on the pole and fell back to the ground. The impact from hitting the ground almost knocked me out, and of course there was still the bullet that was lodged in my arm. I turned onto my stomach and struggled to rise to my hands and knees. It was like fire was stuck inside of my arm. Several of the officers converged upon me and were screaming orders that I could barely hear. My head was spinning, and my danger sense was going in eight directions at once. All I knew was that I had to escape.

As I stood up, I lifted my left hand in a backfist and sent the nearby officer flying. Before any of them could begin shooting, I leapt up and kicked the next officer in his temple, used the kick to propel myself, and tackled the next officer to the ground. Finally, I performed a handspring, with one hand of course, and landed on the side of a building. I climbed to the top as the other policemen began to shoot at me.

Once I made it to the roof, I sat back and examined my arm. Blood was oozing from the wound and quickly making a crimson pool on the roof. Needless to say, I was pissed off. I didn't do a damn thing to anybody, but the cops just up and decided that I needed to be shot. What the hell was I going to do? It wasn't like I could go home and tell my dad that I had just been shot. On top of that, the bullet was still in my arm. How the hell was I going to get it out? By now, my arm had gone limp, and the pain was spreading. I lowered myself back down into the alley to retrieve my clothes, and then I headed in the direction of the one person who could help me.

*********

By the time I made it to the door, I was almost ready to pass out. My vision was getting blurry, and the pain was only getting worse. I knocked on the door and waited. After a couple of seconds, Tiffany's mother opened the door.

"Rob? What's wrong?" Melinda asked me.

"Ms. Melinda...is Tiffany home?" I asked her.

She looked as if she were going to respond, but I noticed her eyes trailing downward. I looked down and could see that blood was dripping out the sleeve of my shirt and making a puddle on the floor.

"What happened to you?" she asked as she ushered me into her house.

I couldn't respond. At this point, all I could think about was the pain. Melinda ended up taking me to her bathroom.

"Take off your shirt," she said. I did as she told me and managed to lift my shirt over my head. She gasped at the sight of my wound and reached for some peroxide and some bandages.

"Wait..." I said. "The bullet's still in there..."

Just then, I could see somebody standing in the door of the bathroom.

"Rob?" It was Tiffany. "Oh my God, what happened to you?"

"Tiffany, call 911," said Melinda.

"No," I said before she could get the phone. "I didn't get shot...Spider-Man did..."

"Oh...well, I'm not going to let you bleed to death," said Melinda.

"I can get it out...Tiffany...a knife...get me a knife..." I said.

"Are you serious?" asked Tiffany.

"Yeah...please..."

Tiffany reluctantly walked away, and when she came back a few seconds later, she held a kitchen knife in her hand. I reached for it, and then I looked down at my arm. I didn't have the strength to lift it so as to examine the wound, so I had to prop it up on something.

"Hand me...that waste basket..." I said to Tiffany.

Tiffany moved the basket toward me, and I placed my right arm upon it. Holding the knife in my left hand, I searched for where the bullet might be. My danger sense kicked in again, although rather than warn me of danger, it was doing something new now: it was showing me where the bullet was. I could see in my mind where the bullet was in my arm. Using my mind to guide me, I guided the blade through my skin until I could feel the hard piece of lead. It hurt like hell to have to move this sharp knife through the inside of my arm, but at this point I really had no other choice. The bullet was stuck in something, so I had to dislodge it. I rocked it back and forth with the knife until finally I knocked it loose. Finally, I used the knife to pick it out. The bullet fell out of my arm and landed on top of the basket. After that, all I can remember is dropping the knife and passing out.

*********

Don't believe what you see in comics. If you fall asleep in extreme pain, you will almost certainly wake up in even worse pain. In my case, the only thing that I had to ease the pain was the fact that a beautiful woman was in the room with me. I was in a bed with white sheets, with a teddy bear on each side of my head. On the other side of the room, Tiffany was sitting at a desk and writing something.

"Watcha writin'?" I asked.

"Hey, how you feel?" asked Tiffany as she approached me and knelt at my side.

"Like I just picked a bullet out of my arm with a knife," I replied.

"That was crazy. You had me scared as hell, you know."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Remind me to apologize to your mom for bleeding all over your floor."

"Yeah...guess who had to clean that up..."

"I'm sorry, baby." I took her hand and kissed it.

"What I want to know is: Who managed to shoot Spider-Man?"

"The cops."

"Why were you fighting the cops?"

"Because the cops are all a bunch of idiots with guns. I was in the middle of attempting to do a good deed, and I got shot for it."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I expected Tiffany to say something, but there was silence. I opened my eyes to look at her. She was staring at the floor with a downtrodden look upon her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Rob...maybe you should stop being Spider-Man..." said Tiffany.

I had to sit up after hearing that one.

"Wasn't it your idea in the first place?" I asked.

"Yeah, it was, but...I never thought about how dangerous it could be. When you first told me about your powers, it was like you couldn't be beaten. But I didn't expect to see people who could control electricity, and I didn't expect you to get shot..."

"I also got in a fight with a seven foot tall lizard."

"Rob, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"It's just that...you might get hurt again..."

"I ain't gonna lie to you, this hurts like hell. But I'm still alive."

"But what if you're not alive next time?"

"Tif, don't worry about me, alright? Rob's not gonna get hurt, and neither is Spider-Man."

"You better be extra careful out there, you hear me?"

"I told you, I'm gonna be fine..."

"And you think just being told that is going to make me feel better?"

I really didn't know what to say. After a moment's thought, I lay my head back on the pillow. The pain was still fresh, and I did not want to sit up for too much longer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"I promise you, nothing will happen to me," I said to her.

"How can you promise me that, Rob?" asked Tiffany.

"I don't know what I have to say to convince you, but nothing is going to happen to me, okay?"

There was silence. I heard Tiffany rise and walk away. I opened my eyes, and she was gone. As if the pain in my arm wasn't enough, imagine the pain in my heart after what had just transpired. Moaning in pain, I slowly rose from the bed. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but I was being an asshole. In retrospect, I can definitely see that. I figured I should go find Tiffany and apologize, but before I left, something caught my eye. On the other side of the room was her desk, and on that desk was a tiny pink notebook. I went to the desk and sat in the chair in front of it. Apparently, this was her diary. There were entries written to the middle of the book, and the last entry was not complete. I guessed that this was what she was writing when I woke up.

'Diary, I think I need you more than ever right now.

I felt like the luckiest woman in the world when I woke up this morning. I knew that Rob was going to come over today. It took me the longest time just to figure out what I was going to wear. I wanted to look beautiful for him. I wanted to share my body with him again, just like the other day. Trust me, I didn't even care if Mom was home!

But then I got a little worried. I looked at my clock, and he was twenty minutes late. I thought it was nothing. Maybe the trolley broke down. Maybe he had to do some chores for his dad. Maybe he had to stop a bank robbery on the way over, you know? But I wasn't prepared for what happened when he got here.

I heard someone knocking at the door, and Mom answered it. She didn't call me, so I figured it was somebody for her. So I'm sitting here, still waiting for Rob to show up, when I notice a red spot on the floor. I went over to it and saw a trail of blood leading from the front door to the bathroom. I ran to the bathroom, and there was Rob, bleeding all over the floor. My head was spinning. I wanted to cry so badly when I saw him, but I didn't. Even now I feel like crying, but I can't.

I feel like this is my fault. When I found out he had those powers, I pressured him into going out and acting like some kind of superhero. This isn't a cartoon or a comic book. This is real life, where there are no superheroes. People get hurt, and because I wanted to act like a little kid, my boyfriend got hurt. I love Rob with all my heart. I'm so afraid I'm going to lose him. I don't want to lose him like I lost Dad. For the first time in my life, I don't feel like I'm alone. If I lost him, I don't think'

That's where the entry ended. If my heart weren't as hard as it was, I may have cried at that moment. I turned back a few pages, and then I saw another entry.

'Diary, you are not going to believe what I'm about to tell you.

I lost my virginity today. I always told myself that I would wait until I was married to have sex, but I never expected to fall in love with anybody as soon as I did. Rob is everything I could ever ask for, and that's without superpowers. Even though he was tired, he lasted all day long. I can't wait to see how he performs when he's rested. I know how he feels, though, because I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed now. I just wanted to let you know.'

I couldn't help smiling to myself. I could satisfy a woman. I was the man. I turned back another few pages.

'Diary, help me.

The last two days have been a living hell. I can't explain to you how alone I feel right now. My daddy is gone. I don't know what to do. We got a call yesterday saying that he had been shot four times. He was in the hospital, and the doctors were trying as hard as they could to save his life. Mom and I were in the hospital the whole time, hoping and praying. When we weren't doing that, the police were busy asking us questions like whether or not Daddy had any enemies. They didn't know if it was just a random shooting or if it was intentional. But I know the truth. Rhino killed my father. Ever since Mom and Dad stopped using drugs, he's been harassing them, saying that they owe him money. I know he killed my daddy, but what am I supposed to do about it? I just feel empty right now. I'm going to bed, but I know I won't sleep.'

There was some discoloration on this page, as if the paper had been wet from tear drops. The impact of what I had just read was stronger than any bullet. This was why Tiffany was so worried about me. I had no idea what had happened to her father, nor did I know that she felt responsible for what happened to me. I certainly didn't blame her, but in a way I could understand why she felt the way she felt. I felt like a special breed of asshole at this point, having put her through what I did. I turned her diary back to the last entry and exited the room.

In a room across the hallway, Melinda lay sleeping. I quietly walked past it and peeked into the bathroom, which was empty. I continued walking until I reached the living room. There was a rocking chair in the center of the room that had its back to me. I could hear quiet sobbing from the chair. Moving forward, I could see Tiffany. She was holding two pictures in her hands. In her left hand, there was a picture of three people. I recognized one person as her mother, and the other was Tiffany, although she was much younger. With them was a dark-skinned man with a thick beard and a broad smile, who I assumed was her father. They were at Disney World, and Tiffany was wearing one of those hats that looked like Mickey's ears. In her right hand, there was a more recent picture of Tiffany and her father, smiling and hugging each other. A tear fell from her eye and landed on the picture in her right hand, squarely on her father's face. I circled around her and stood facing her. Her attention left the pictures and moved to me. She looked away, as if she was ashamed to let me see her cry, and she placed the pictures on a nearby coffee table. I knelt in front of her and rose my good arm so that I could wipe a tear from her face. She slowly began to look back at me with red, tear-filled eyes. I wrapped my left arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward me. She wrapped both arms around my neck and squeezed. Tiffany cried softly on my shoulder. I could feel her body shuddering under me, and it made me feel terrible. I felt like I was the cause of her sadness.

"Baby, I'm sorry..." I said to her.

Tiffany pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

"For what?" she asked.

"For...for everything...I treated this like it was a game...but there are real consequences to what I do. I never really thought about it responsibly."

"What are you saying, Rob?"

"I never stopped to think about who I would affect by putting on that costume. I never thought about you, and for that I am truly sorry."

"You don't have to apologize..."

"Yes, I do. If you want me to give this up, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"I couldn't ask you to do that. I mean, this is something you have to do, right?"

"Not if it means hurting you."

"You're not hurting me, Rob. I just want you to be happy. If you feel that you need to keep doing what you're doing, I'll support you. Sometimes you might need somebody to talk to when it comes to the whole superhero thing."

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"That, and you're gonna need somebody to sew you a new costume."

I smiled a bit and sat on the nearby couch. Tiffany rose from the rocking chair and sat to my left on the couch. I put my arm around her while she lay her head on my shoulder. She turned on the TV, and we watched videos on BET for a couple of hours. Where I was at the moment, it made the gunshot worthwhile.

The music was playing, but I could barely hear it. I was busy thinking about Tiffany. How could I mean so much to her? To be honest, it wasn't an idea that I was accustomed to. I mean, there weren't many people who really gave a damn about me in the world. To find somebody who genuinely did was refreshing, and yet scary at the same time. I still felt like Spider-Man had to exist, but I would have to utilize a little caution in the future. There was a woman who cared about me, and I would not worry her ever again.

There was something else on my mind, though. I had never known that her father died, and furthermore, I had no idea that Rhino was involved in it. If I could find a way to prove his guilt, I would do so. If that didn't work, then I would simply employ my own brand of justice. Even still, Rhino was in jail for the time being, at least.

It was about nine at night when I decided to return home. The pain was still there, of course, but at least my stomach was full, as Melinda had ordered cheesesteaks for us. She took me aside shortly before I left.

"Rob, you have really got to be more careful," said Melinda.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"I can't believe I actually know somebody who runs around in a costume and gets in fights with cops," she said with a chuckle. "But don't forget that there are a lot of people who worry about you, myself included. And don't forget about your father. He's a good man. He doesn't deserve to have to see his son dead on the ten o'clock news, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I repeated.

"Okay. You take care now," she said as she gave me a hug.

"Thank you for everything," I replied.

"It was no problem. Now go home and stay there. No superhero stuff."

I had no choice but to chuckle at that. "Yes, ma'am."

Tiffany walked me outside of the apartment after that, and we stood in the doorway.

"You don't have any plans tomorrow afternoon, do you?" asked Tiffany.

"Nuh-uh. Why?" I replied.

"I might be able to sew you a new costume by tomorrow. I could bring it by if you want."

"Tif, you don't have to do that."

"I know," she said as she gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "But I want to."

No matter how much I wanted to act cool at the moment, I know that I was grinning from ear to ear. Tiffany stepped back into the apartment and closed the door. I could only think of the day in general which, all things considered, could definitely be categorized as a good day. I took my time exiting the building and walking down the street.

Unfortunately, my arm was still in numbing pain, and it only got worse as time went on. I ended up catching the trolley home. The trolley operator was staring at my arm as I payed my fare. Looking down, I could see a red stain on my sleeve. So much for being inconspicious, huh?

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied.

Of course, that was a lie. The pain was gnawing at me like a rat gnaws at a rotting corpse. I walked to the back of the trolley, sat down, and closed my eyes. The whole ride home I tried to ignore the pain, but it was no use. I would go home and get some sleep, and hopefully when I woke up the next morning, I would feel better. But in the back of my mind, I knew that I would, in contrast, feel much worse when I awoke.



END OF CHAPTER EIGHT