Spiderman 1 Read Free

"What have you heard?"
    "That you make ..." He frowned, trying to recall the word. "... perverted rice."
    Now it was the woman's turn to laugh, as Uncle Ben's cheeks reddened slightly. "Different Uncle Ben, Peter. And I think you mean 'converted' rice."
    "Oh." He was studying the woman now, comparing her automatically to the only woman who'd had a major place in his life. Her face was narrower, her eyes a bit more sunken. Her hair, which was brown with gray streaks, was tied back in a severe bun. She had a long neck and her hands tended to flutter toward it, as if she was trying to cool down waves of heat. "Okay," he added, to fill the silence.
    "I'm your Aunt May," she told him. She said this with a great deal of gravity, as if she were revealing one of the great secrets of the universe.
    "Okay," he said again.
    The man clapped his hands together again. Peter waited for a dove to appear or a coin to drop out of the air. None was forthcoming. "Would you like to see your room, Peter?"
    Finally something he understood. He nodded eagerly. "Do you wanna see where I drew some cowboys on the wall?" he asked.
    Ben and May exchanged puzzled glances. "What do you mean, Peter?" Ben asked.
    "Where I drew some cowboys. When I was little. Mommy yelled at me, and tried to wash them off, but you can still see them, 'cause I used markers."
    "Ohhh," Ben said, and it sounded a little like a moan when he said it. "Peter, I mean your new room. Here."
    "Can't I go back to my old room?"
    "Peter, dear," said May, and she took his hand in hers. Her hand felt cold, but smooth, as if she'd put some sort of lo tion on it. He noticed a few brown spots on the back of her hand and wondered what it would be like to connect them. "Your old room is back in Wisconsin. I thought the social worker explained it. ... You'll be staying here, in New York. With us."
    "Can't we stay at my house?"
    "But Peter, this is where we live. And this is where you're going to live now," Ben told him, trying desperately to sound upbeat about it. "We'll make a good home here for you."
    Obviously this Uncle Ben and Aunt May weren't getting it. "I have a home," Peter explained, politely but firmly.
    "Peter . . ."
    "You know what you need?" Aunt May suddenly said briskly. She didn't clap and rub her hands. Instead she patted them on her knees. "Some nice, freshly baked cookies. Why don't you go upstairs and get your things unpacked, and I'll whip up some cookies. Do you like chocolate chip?" When Peter nodded eagerly, she flicked a finger across the end of his nose in a playful manner. "I thought you might." She rose as she asked, "Is there anything else you'd like?"
    "Yes, please."
    "And what would that be?" She leaned over, hands rest ing on her knees. "What would you like?"
    "My mommy and daddy."
    She winced at that, and Ben, trying to sound kindly but firm, said, "Peter ... you have to understand, you're going to live with us now."
    "I don't want to," Peter told him firmly. He wasn't rude, wasn't whining or crying. He couldn't have been more po lite if he'd been ordering a meal in a restaurant. "I want my mommy and daddy. Please," he put in almost as an after thought.
    "They're not here, Peter ..." Ben began.
    "Can I talk to them at least? Can you call them?"
    "Peter," and Ben took him firmly by the shoulders. "Your parents ... they're with God now."
    "When are they coming back?"
    Ben's lower lip was quivering. Peter had never seen a grown-up cry, and the feeling made his stomach queasy. He didn't think it was something that grown-ups did. Ben coughed loudly, took a deep breath, and said, "They're not coming back, Peter."
    "I want to talk to them."
    "You can't. They ... they went away...."
    "I want to talk to them. Make them come back."
    "Peter . . ."
    "Make them come back!" And the sound and agony that ripped from Peter's throat terrified the child himself, because he couldn't believe that it was his own voice sounding like that. His eyes went wide, pupils tiny and swimming in a