Spiderman 3 Read Free Page A

away from the curb. Peter could have run after it. For that matter, he could have leaped atop the roof and clung to it. He could have webbed it to the spot, preventing it from moving forward. But what good would any of that have done? Just what Peter would have needed: Harry leaping out of the car and screaming at him that he, Spider-Man, had killed his father. So much for his secret identity.
    As he sighed heavily and headed around to the stage door entrance, where the stage manager knew him well and would let him pass with no problem, Peter had to wonder why he even had a secret identity anymore. What in the world had stopped Harry from telling the police, or J. Jonah Jameson, or taking out a billboard? What prevented him, in short, from blabbing Peter's secret to the world?
    Three reasons occurred to him.
    The first was that, on some level, Harry knew that not all was as it seemed with his father's passing. Perhaps Harry had even figured out that his father was the Green Goblin. If the truth of Peter's identity came out, then sooner or later that truth would lead to the revelation that Norman Osborn was the Goblin. The sins of the father would be laid at the feet of the son. Not only would Norman's legacy be forever disgraced, but anyone who had suffered damage at the hands of Norman Osborn might turn around and sue his estate. Harry could be wiped out.
    Second, Harry would logically be asked how he knew the secret of Spider-Man's identity. What would Harry say to that? "I hired the known criminal Dr. Octopus to assault Spider-Man, kidnap him, and bring him to me so that I could unmask him?" Not only would he then be exposed to even more civil suits from the damage that Doc Ock had done at his behest, but he would also face criminal and felony charges. Harry could bring Peter down, but Harry would go down right alongside him.
    Then there was the third, least appealing reason. If Peter's identity became public knowledge, it would be the equivalent of painting a target on his back. He'd never have a moment's rest. Anyone who'd ever hated Spider-Man would come gunning for Peter, and sooner or later, they'd get him. Even Peter Parker had to sleep eventually. He'd be a dead man for certain. Why wouldn't that suit Harry Osborn, who so despised his former friend? The answer was obvious: Harry wanted to save the privilege of killing Peter for himself.
    Oh, yeah. That's making me feel a whole lot better.
    It required great effort on his part, but Peter was determined to put all such thoughts out of his mind. This was Mary Jane's night, her evening to shine, and he'd be damned if he would drag her down with his depressing musings.
    It was a madhouse backstage. The narrow corridors were packed with well-wishers and fans. People were thrusting their
Playbill
programs at whatever cast members they could find, and the actors were reveling in it. Peter noticed some good-looking man clad in a suit also signing an autograph. He wasn't a cast member; Peter assumed he was someone famous. Hard to say for sure who it was. Peter wasn't especially good at identifying actors.
    He saw Mary Jane back up and pause in the entrance to her dressing room. She was clearly studying the crowd, looking for (he hoped) him. "MJ!" he called, and immediately she turned and spotted him.
    Her face split with a grin. "Peter!" Then, just as quickly, her expression transformed into concern bordering on agitation. As he approached her, he wondered what could be wrong. Had she seen Harry? Were the same worries that Peter had had occurring to MJ as well?
    She gripped him by the shoulders and, as if asking a doctor whether the tumor was malignant or not, demanded, "Was I good?"
    It was all he could do not to laugh. It was ludicrous that she'd even have to ask. "Good? You were great! You're just… how can I say it? You're a…"
    "You said great," she reminded him as if she were an auctioneer making certain that he was sticking to his previous high bid. He smiled and