I’m Arthur Godsave and I hate this. Peter deserves a better funeral—or a more civilised one. It’s so crowded I can barely move—I have to tiptoe to see anything. Thank god I’m skinny or I would have been stuck at the back. I was able to slip through like a boss—into a dead end. And I think my suit is creased. Fudge! I actually put effort into this outfit. I even took—borrowed my dad’s watch. I combed my hair back for Pete’s sake. Everyone else is just wearing casual clothes. Maybe I overdressed—or it just means more to me…
I remember that church, the cold, hard floor, creaking wooden benches and the red hymn book. That church is a house of saints and heroes, people who have achieved greatness. It is only fitting that Peter has a seat at their table. I hope he’s at peace. I wish I had done something sooner. I watched him get bullied at school and I didn’t do anything. I don’t think I could have endured what he did. But it doesn’t matter now. I had my chanced and I didn’t do the right thing. I never do. I’m sorry Peter. I still can’t believe you were Spiderman. I would count myself lucky if I were half the man you were. You achieved so much and I so little. I can’t believe I actually thought I was better than you.
Aunt May and Gwen Stacy are at the doors so the service must be starting. God I just wanna hug her. I should talk to her. She was Peter’s rock and I guess he was hers too. And there’s Gwen Stacy. Blond hair, slim bod— I mean black dress, and lips as pink as pomegranate. She’s not bad looking. I wouldn’t mind taking her for a swing ‘round town…sorry. Uh oh she’s walking back. She’s gonna kill those two kids. Now why would you go and tick her off. Idiots. I would be scared too.
‘Did you know him?’ a man said beside me, he didn’t look at me.
‘Yeah we went to the same school.’
‘Which school was that?’ he said, now looking.
‘Midtown High.’
‘Ah yes, my son went there.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s,’ he paused. ‘Out of town.’
I couldn’t make out much of what he was wearing besides glasses and a cream trench coat. But I noticed a white collar around his neck. He’s probably a priest. What’s he doing here he should be in the church. Maybe he can score me a seat next to Gwen Sta—what’s wrong with me.
‘Why did he do it?’ I said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Spiderman. Why did he do the things he did?’
‘We all have to make a difference in this world. It was his calling.’
‘But why?’ I said. ‘The world is so corrupt people die all the time. He just wasted his life.’
‘He didn’t waste his life he was doing the right thing. I like to believe his abilities gave him a higher level of responsibility.’
‘But it wasn’t his problem.’
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t do the right thing.’
The first time I knew Peter existed was at school. He was walking to his locker when Flash said something. I don’t remember what but people laughed. Peter ignored him but I could see he was annoyed. That didn’t stop Flash; he kept talking, hoping to ignite some anger in Peter. And he did. Peter just did an exceptional job at hiding it. Then Flash threw a basketball at his head. I remember dropping my bag and walking over but my friend pulled me back, telling me not to get involved. I shouldn’t have listened. Peter opened his locker and green slime splashed all over his clothes. Everyone laughed.
‘I know,’ I said to the man as I slipped out of the crowd and disappeared. I left the funeral and made my way home. I plan to pay a visit to Aunt May later. I’m going to make a difference in her life.
By the time I got home it was late. Mum was in the kitchen cooking. I slivered upstairs to return my dad’s watch, and then returned.
‘What’s for dinner?’ I said, hugging her. She doesn’t even return the gesture.
‘Your father wanted roast chicken.’
‘You never cook me roast chicken.’
‘When you get married you can make your wife cook you roast chicken.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well I’m going to need you to because you’re taking over.’
‘Oh c’mon man.’
‘Yes man. I have to go to work.’
‘But it’s your day off. What game is this?’
‘It’s not a game, the hospital needs me. Now in twenty minutes take out the chicken and use the brush to apply the sauce then cook for thirty minutes. And then wash up.’
‘B!tch,’ I said under my breath.
I took over the kitchen, washing up and cooking simultaneously. Mum didn’t bother saying goodbye before she left. Now I’m alone with father. God help me. I don’t care much for my father, ever since he left. I bet he hasn’t gotten out of the couch yet. I prepare the food for both of us. We sit in the living room watching TV.
‘How was your day?’ he said.
‘Alright.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah. How was yours?’
‘Productive. My friend was able to pull a few strings with his boss so I have an interview in three days.’
‘I hope it goes well.’
‘Cheers.’
‘Oh I went—’
He gestured to me to be quiet as he changed the channel.
‘My movie,’ he said.
We sat in silence watching Arnold Schwarz—I can’t pronounce it—shoot like a hundred men and managed to dodge a storm of bullets. Despite the movie being a load of spit. My dad is glued to the TV. He doesn’t know good TV if it looked him in the face, which it does. My god this is tedious.
‘I’m done,’ I said taking up my plate. He doesn’t speak to me but points his plate instead. I take it and disappear into the kitchen.
‘Bring me a beer,’ he shouts. Why the hell doesn’t he just get it himself? Fat slob.
I tiptoe into the living room and throw him his beer. I put my suit back on and leave for Aunt May. If I remember correctly, I can walk there. This feels good like I’m doing the right thing. Lately I’ve been thinking about becoming a police officer—I should have sprayed on the Old Spice for some of that PA PA PA PA POWER! Now I smell like barbeque chicken. Damn it how am I supposed to cop a feel smelling like chicken? If I run there then the wind will blow it out. But I don’t want to be sweating when I get there—I don’t even feel like going anymore. But I have to do it for Aunt May and she who will not be named.
After running I think I found their house. I assume it’s theirs because of the flowers and the picture of Peter leaning against the fence. I take a moment to catch my breath and smell myself. I smell like chicken mixed with sweat which is understandable. I’ll just say I was working out and—what was that. There’s someone in the bushes. I stand quietly watching, waiting but I cannot form an image. It’s too dark. Is someone trying to break in? I have to do something. I should call the police. No it’s time to man up. What would Thor do?
I walk towards the sound of rustling and I can’t believe my eyes. It’s Spiderman. Wait. That’s not Spiderman. The hell is that thing! It sees me! Shit! I turn around but I cannot move. Something is tugging on my arm. This thing has me. It pulls me back and I fall into its arms. It’s cold. It just growled my name. How does it know my name? It won’t let go.
‘Please,’ I plead. ‘Don’t! No!
I collapse to the floor under its weight. I can feel it smothering me, covering me. It feels weird. Cold. I can’t move! No. No. No. No. God help me. Someone help me. I can’t breathe. I can—Peter. Peter. Peter. Hungry. Peter. Eddie. Peter. Eddie. Peter. Help me. How do you know my name? Roxxon? I can hear someone coming down. Hungry. No. I can do this. Hungry. Fight it. Hungry. C’mon that its. Fight!
‘Whoa.’
I pull myself up. I feel different—someone’s coming! I jump into the air and a web shoots out my hand. How did I do that? I can see buildings beneath me. I don’t know how I’m doing this. It just feels natural. I land on a roof and tumble onto my back. That felt good. I feel amazing. That thing—Spiderman fought it—I saw it. They called it Venom. But I don’t think this is Venom. This was red like Peter. I can feel him inside me. I can feel Spiderman. I look like him. I think I am Spiderman.
‘I’m Spiderman.’
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