یه زندگی عادی

Chapter eight

An ordinary life

Peter sat in the theatre and watched MJ. He was enjoying the play so much! At one moment MJ saw Peter. They smiled at each other and for a few seconds she forgot her lines.

After the play, they walked through Chinatown together.

‘You were so wonderful,’ he said. ‘You look— different,’ she said. Well, I cleaned my shoes. I washed my clothes. I did my homework. I do my homework now. Do you want to get some Chinese food?’

‘Peter— I’m getting married.’

‘You once said to me, “I love you.” Back then, I couldn’t be with you. There were things I had to do. But I don’t have to do them now.’

‘You’re too late,’ she said.

‘Will you think about it?’

‘Think about what?’

‘You and me?’

‘There never was a you and me, Peter.’

‘You don’t understand. I’m not an empty seat any more. I’m different.’

‘I have to go.’

MJ got into a taxi. She looked back at Peter. ‘You are different,’ she said, and closed the door.

Betty Brandt took the street cleaner into Jonah Jameson’s office. He was carrying something in a brown paper bag. He put the bag on Jameson’s desk and took out—Spider-Man’s clothes!

‘Where did you get those,’ shouted Robbie Robertson, Jameson’s number two at the Daily Bugle.

‘In the street,’ the man explained.

Jameson couldn’t believe his eyes. Spider-Man no more? This was front page news! ‘I’ll give you $50 for them,’ he said.

‘Only $50, ‘ said the street cleaner.

‘All right, $100. Miss Brandt - take this man away and give him his money!’

It was two years since Uncle Ben died. Peter sat at the table in Aunt May’s home and she gave him a cup of tea.

‘It was all my fault, Peter,’ she said. ‘You wanted to go by train that day. Uncle Ben wanted to drive you—and I didn’t stop him.’

Peter decided to tell her.

‘Aunt May, it was my fault,’ said Peter. ‘I didn’t go to the library that day. I went somewhere else—to win some money—to buy a car. I wanted to look good for MJ. It happened so fast! I won the money, but the guy didn’t pay me. Then another man took all the money. I didn’t try to stop him. I let him go. He wanted a car—he tried to take Uncle Ben’s. Uncle Ben said no and the man shot him. I held Uncle Ben’s hand when he died.’ Peter was crying now, and he took Aunt May’s hand. ‘I’ve tried to tell you so many times,’ he said.

But Aunt May took her hand away. She had no words to speak. She looked sadly at Peter, then she stood up and went quietly upstairs.

Down by the Hudson River, Doc Ock was finishing his new fusion reactor. He stood back and looked at his work.

‘Just one more little job,’ he said. ‘All I need now is the tritium.’

Harry Osborn was in his father’s old room. He was looking at newspaper stories about Spider-Man. And he was drinking. Suddenly there was a loud noise outside. THUMP! And then another. THUMP! Harry went outside. Suddenly a metal arm appeared. It pushed Harry to the ground.

‘Hello, Harry,’ said Doc Ock.

‘Otto, Wh- What do you want?’

‘Tritium. But I need more of it this time.’

Ock took Harry with one of the arms and held him out over the street. The street was a long way down.

‘Stop, ‘ cried Harry. ‘Bring me Spider-Man—alive! Then I’ll give you the tritium!’

‘How do I find him, ‘ asked Ock.

‘Peter Parker,’ said Harry. ‘He takes pictures of Spider-Man for the Bugle. He can tell you.’

Ock was already on his way.

‘Don’t hurt Peter, ‘ Harry shouted after him. But Doc Ock wasn’t listening.