The Black Spider - 6. Chapter 6: Nothing Important Happened Today - Part 2

Peter was already aware that Tre and Zeyna would not be letting him out of their sight for at least a week. So it was no surprise that when they got home, they wanted him to help them with their homework instead of May.

It also wasn’t a surprise when once homework was complete, Tre and Zeyna forewent their normal routine of catching up on their television shows in order to do something with Peter instead. Tre wanted game time on his video game system. Zeyna wanted game time too, but with something other than a video game system. Peter already had the solution.

“You two wanna play Monopoly?” he asked.

“Only if ya’ll are ready to lose!” Tre accepted.

“That’s only ‘cuz you got lucky last time!” Zeyna accepted as well. “I’m goin’ to get the game.”

“You’ll need me as an escort,” Peter informed.

“Why? I can get the game by myself.”

“You can get your game by yourself, not mine.”

Zeyna stopped and looked at Peter, realization bringing a smile to her face.

“You mean we’re gonna finally play real Monopoly?” she asked.

“I figure you’re both ready for it,” Peter answered.

“YES!” both brother and sister cheered.

Peter knew his solution would go over well. Tre and Zeyna’s only exposure to Monopoly was the “Jr” version. They’d thought that was the regular version of the game until Peter showed them the true original. At the time of the showing, and all the times when asked after, he hadn’t wanted to go through the trouble of explaining the rules and teaching how to count money. This time, however, he found himself in the mood.

“You guys go get the game. I’ll clean the table off.” Tre volunteered.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

Peter and Zeyna returned to the table with the game a short time later. Opening the box, Peter took out the game board and laid it open on the table.

“What’s community chest?” Tre asked.

“It’s the same thing as chance,” Peter answered, sitting the both sets of cards for 'Community Chest' and 'Chance' onto their spaces.

“Look at all the money. We don’t just get one dollar bills in this one?” Zeyna asked.

“Nope. You get 1’s, 5’s, 10’s, 20’s, 50’s, 100’s and 500’s.”

“Oh, so like real life.”

“Except there ain’t no such thing as a five hundred dollar bill in real life.” Tre said.

“They haven’t made ‘em for a long, long time, but yes there is.” Peter informed, as he began to count out the money for everyone.

“Can you still get one?” Zeyna asked.

“Yeah, but it’s really hard. You’d have to go on the internet to e-bay or to a real life auction to get one. They’re collectors’ items now. ”

“The banks don’t have none?” Tre asked.

“Not anymore. Not for a long time.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked someone at the bank when I was…your age, actually, and they told me.”

“I bet you they got ‘em, but they just don’t give ‘em to nobody.”

Peter shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said.

He set up and organized the money for Zeyna and Tre, then organized his own.

“This is way more than thirty-five dollars.” Zeyna observed.

“Yes it is. You’ve got one thousand five hundred dollars. Now look at how much the property on the board cost.” Peter suggested.

Both of them did.

“Are you serious? We’re gonna be broke before we make it around the board!” Tre objected.

“Especially if we land on Boardwalk and Park Place.” Zeyna agreed.

“Ah, but in real Monopoly you don’t have to buy the property you land on if you don’t want to.” Peter revealed.

“Whew!” Zeyna wiped her brow.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Tre added.

“All right, pick out which piece you want, put it on go, then we’ll roll to see who goes first.” Peter instructed.

Once pieces were picked and dice were rolled to determine order, Peter instituted a few rules.

Rule one; everyone had to go around the board once first before buying anything. He did this more for Tre and Zeyna’s sake so that they would have more money in case they got into the competition of: 'Oh so you want to buy something? Then so will I'.

Rule two was also done for the same benefit. Whoever landed on free parking won the jackpot, which consisted of money paid for landing on the luxury tax or income tax squares, as well as money paid to get out of jail.

Peter considered including the rules of earning twenty dollars if the person rolling rolled snake-eyes, and collecting double the amount if a player landed directly on the 'Go' square, but decided against it. He wanted Tre and Zeyna to get a good feel for how the real game was actually played. Once around the board before buying, the jackpot, and the other two considered rules were house rules but not official game rules.

With rules in place, the game began. Almost two hours went by unnoticed to all three players as the two newest quickly learned the groove of the game. It was called to a halt when May called to Peter from the kitchen and asked him to come to her.

“Yes ma’am?” Peter asked once in the kitchen.

“Can you keep an eye of the food for me? I need to run to the store. I messed around and forgot to get corn meal,” May answered.

“I think the store down the street has it.”

“Yeah. That’s where I was about to go.”

Peter shook his head.

“Don’t stress, Aunt May. I’ll go,” he said.

May gave her nephew a contradicting look.

“Uh, no you will not.” Her answer backed the look.

Peter had a feeling that was going to be her answer.

“Aunt May, I was good here all day all by myself. I think I can survive a walk down the street and back.” He wasn’t ready to give up.

May opened her mouth to object.

“And besides, you know I can’t do this as good as you do it. I’ll mess somethin’ up like I did last time,” he added before she could speak.

May chuckled.

“Don’t be tryin’ to sweet talk me, boy. I know what you doin’,” she said.

Peter laughed.

“I’m just tellin’ the truth,” he said.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s dark. It’s cold right now…” May started.

“So I’ll put on my heavy jacket and take a flashlight.” Peter finished.

May fixed her nephew with a look. Nephew immediately stifled his laugh with very poor effort.

“Boy go get some money out my purse and gone to the store.” May couldn’t help but chuckle again.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The journey to the store was a ten minute long, but straight shot forward from Peter’s house. The alley that ran behind his house also followed a straight path that went to, and ended at, the store. It was dark outside. The clothes Peter had on were dark as well. So should he decide to hit the alley and test further for super speed, nobody would be able to get a clear look at him. So as soon as he hit the end of his block, he turned the corner and proceeded to the entrance of the alley that led in the direction of the store.

He’d come prepared. The shoes he had on were his best for running. To fight off the cold, and protect his identity, he’d put on his 'stalker jacket'. That was the name he, Glen, Mary-Jane, and Liz had come up for the thick black coat and its wide hood.

“Okay.” Peter couldn’t help feeling excited as he pulled on his hood, tightened it, and made a quick visual check to see if he was alone. He was. “Let’s test this sucker out!”

He broke into a full sprint.

Just like before, he felt himself gaining speed with every step he took. The alleyways were long, spanning ten full houses before they let out onto a street. In order to keep sighting levels down, Peter planned to stop at the end of each alley, walk across the street normally, then resume down the next alley. As he brought himself to a stop at the end of the first alley, he knew the rest wouldn’t be long enough to fully test. He’d still been picking up speed when the time came to stop.

“I’m not gonna be able test like this unless…”

Unless he chose not to stop at the end of the remaining alleys and kept running.

“Yeah, so I can get smashed by a Tundra and end up back in the hospital. ‘Cuz that’d be great,” Peter jeered the thought. “Too bad I can’t tell if a car is coming ahead of time.”

…Or could he?

Peter rewound the previous test in his head. While foresight was not one of his abilities, regular sight was. Even though he was moving faster, he’d still been able to see normally. So unless someone was being an idiot, he would be able to see the headlights of any approaching vehicle when he got close to the end of an alley section.

…But what if someone chose to be an idiot?

“Guess I’ll have to jump and hope its high enough,” Peter answered the internal inquiry.

He paused.

“Oh god, what am I about to do?” he groaned as the possible consequences of his proposed actions shocked his brain.

All of them ended up with him back at the hospital.

…But that was only if he screwed up.

And from what Peter knew of his body of late…it did not screw up.

…But what if at the exact moment he needed his body not to screw up its ability to not screw up gave out? It hadn’t been confirmed whether or not any ability was permanent.

“Damn it that’s right!” Peter growled.

Turning away from the alley, he started back toward the sidewalk. Determination halted him as he took his second step.

“Okay, let’s just do with this what I’ve already done twice today.” Peter decided. Then, in his head he said, 'Please don’t let my abilities give out and get me splattered all across the street…'

Unlike the last two times, he added,

'Amen.'

Taking a quick look around for any onlookers and seeing none, Peter walked a couple of steps back to the alley entrance and took his mark. Adrenaline spiked his blood. Its rush hit his body. The feeling made him smirk.

“Let’s test you out for real,” he said.

Then he broke into another full sprint.

Running the first alley went off without a problem. Peter knew to pay attention when it came to his sight. It worked as well as he remembered. The only thing that was different was the speed at which the end of the alley came.

Then he hit the second alley. His increase in speed continued to go up with every step.

'Looks like we might have a contender,' Peter thought as he continued to push.

He was half way down the alley when something happened. A flash before his eyes like a single strobe pulse. When that pulse was over, Peter witnessed his sight change to a level he didn’t think was humanly possible. The first thought that came to his mind was,

'I can see in high definition!'

No contacts necessary. No glasses necessary. No wind blowing in his eyes and messing up his eye sight. Peter found that discovery the most interesting. His eyes had always been sensitive to wind. Running laps in P.E without his glasses on, and his contacts out, would have them tearing up as if he were crying. But not now.

'So it might not be super sight, but it’s some kinda sight.' Peter put a period at the end of that for the moment and turned his full attention to the end of the alley.

Not seeing any headlights on the street on his approach toward the interchange, he kept hauling and made it safely across without interference.

But he hadn’t made it across without being noticed.

A five year old girl a block away just happened to be looking in that direction while she waited for the rest of her family to get out of the car.

“Daddy, what was that?” she asked, figuring he must’ve seen what she’d seen since he’d gotten out on the same side of the car.

“What was what, honey?” Daddy responded, as he took his youngest daughter’s hand in his.

“That thing that ran across the street.”

“Where?”

“Over there?”

The little girl pointed toward the alley.

“Probably just a kitty cat,” Daddy answered, leading his daughter toward the house.

“But daddy, you said kitty cats only run on two legs in cartoons and not in real life.” The little girl remembered.

“Well then it was a person you saw running. Remember when we talked about joggers?”

“Yeah. But the…um… the person wasn’t jogging. The person was running. They were going real fast.”

Daddy’s hand clenched tighter on his daughter’s hand.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get inside and you can tell daddy the rest in there,” Daddy said.

As daddy and daughter – along with wife and big sister – were stepping into their home, Peter was nearing the end of the next alley. At half way down, he’d noticed he wasn’t picking up speed with his steps. He was pushing with everything he had.

“Damn,” he jeered. “No to super speed…but yes to speed enhancement.”

It would’ve been nice to have super speed, but Peter knew that what he had was nothing to shake a stick at. He didn’t know his actual miles per hour, but he knew he was traveling at a speed that could compete with an automobile.

As Peter was returning full attention to the end of the alley, which was fast approaching at twenty feet away, a strange and unexpected itch struck the base of his skull. Before he could focus on it, an image appeared in his mind. It appeared to be a street in a neighborhood not unlike the one he was currently in. On either side of the street were alley entrances. Cars were parked normally in front of houses or in driveways.

Except for one. One car was driving down the street in the direction of the alleyways. For whatever reason, the car was driving without its lights on.

Seconds was how long it took for the image to show. It was also how long it took for Peter to reach the end of the alley. A split second was all he got to notice that there was a car (with its lights off) traveling in his direction from the right. The speed it was moving at would put it right in striking range if he kept running. But it was too late to stop. Before Peter could think of which move to make, his instincts decided for him. He jumped.

Peter soared up into the air, clearing the car with enough height that equaled nine of the compact vehicles stacked on top of each other. He arced over the street way, watching as the car – oblivious to his presence – passed underneath. The leap took him all the way into the next alleyway before his altitude began to fall.

“Oh shit!” Peter realized he was about to land on asphalt from pretty high up. “OH SHIT! NOOOOO!”

He was about to brace himself as best he could for the pain of all the bones that were about to snap in his feet and legs when his instincts took the helm again. His right arm posed in front of him, while the left one posed in back. The right foot moved out in front of him, while the left one folded up against itself, making it look as if he’d posed mid-sprint.

Impact on the asphalt was made with the right foot and the rest of his body followed through, resuming the run as if it had not been interrupted at all. There were no sounds of bones cracking. There wasn’t even any pain. There was just the feeling of impact and then the wind against his against his face and body.

Peter immediately brought himself to a halt.

His eyes were wide as saucepans. His heart was pounding in his chest. His breath came out in quick, whimpering gasps. Words. He couldn’t form them.

Suddenly the muscles controlling his bladder felt weak.

“Uh oh!” The ability to speak returned as Peter realized he could not reinforce the weakening muscles.

He hurried over to the side of a nearby wall, unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping his zipper as he went. He was barley clear when the muscles gave completely and the stream was unleashed.

“I guess the piss really can be scared out of a person.” He now knew that as fact.

The unexpected potty break gave Peter the opportunity to begin winding himself back down. By the time the break was over, (at least he hoped it was) his breathing was almost back to normal. His heart wasn’t thumping as hard as it had been earlier, but was still thumping. Adrenaline continued to spike his blood, making him feel almost jittery.

“I think I’ll walk the rest of the way.” He decided, taking a look around to make sure he was still unobserved. It surprised him that he still was.

*                      *                      *                      *                     *

By the time Peter reached the alley that led into the back entrance of the store, he’d mellowed out quite a bit and had even started to appreciate the coolness factor in the stunts he’d pulled off. During that appreciation, he noticed that his “high definition” sight was gone, but his ability to see without contacts/glasses remained. It served to reinforce his belief that he didn’t have super sight, but he had something that worked beyond normal sight.

It also raised new questions. Minor of the two was how had he survived that descent without a scratch. He knew it wasn’t attributable to super strength or to any of his other abilities.

“Then it’s somethin’ I didn’t think to test for.” He figured. “Super endoskeleton.”

Making a mental note to come up with ways to test that idea, he moved on to the major of the two questions. What was that thing that’d happened to his head? Peter knew now that the image that’d come to his mind was the same thing his eyes had seen moments later.

“But I’m not a pre-cog. I failed that test.” Peter had not forgotten. “But what else could it be?”

He was thinking about the answer to that as he entered the store through its back doors.

“Hello.” An older woman behind the register greeted.

“Hi.” Peter waved, heading toward the aisle he knew the corn meal was on.

“Can you please take off your hood while you’re in the store for me?”

“Oh.” Peter, caught up in his thoughts, had forgotten that rule and removed his hood. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

He continued on toward the aisle where the boxes of corn meal lived. It was at the opposite end of the store all the way in the back corner. He was always able to remember that aisle because it was the one that was longer than any of the others.

Another customer entered the store as Peter stooped down to the bottom shelf where the corn meal was located. He was about to reach for a box of yellow corn meal when he realized he’d forgotten to ask a now vital question. Did he need to get yellow or white? Reaching inside his coat pocket, he took out his phone and called home.

“Parker residence.” Zeyna’s voice spoke from the other end.

“Zeyna, it’s Peter. I need you to do me a favor, okay?” Peter said.

“What?”

“I need you to go ask Aunt May if she needs yellow or white corn meal.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Zeyna went to ask the question, received the answer, and returned to the phone.

“She said get yellow,” she answered.

“Okay. Thanks,” Peter said.

“Your welcome. Hurry up and get back so we can play some more before dinner.”

“All right, I will. Later ‘gator.”

“After while crocodile.”

Peter hung up, returned his phone to his coat pocket, and grabbed a box of yellow corn meal. He was about to stand when that strange, itching feeling at the base of his skull interrupted.

An image came to his mind.

At a register in a store that looked not unlike the one he was currently in, he saw a customer and a clerk. The customer he saw from the back. The clerk he saw from the front. It was an older woman and she had a stoic look on her face, but there was something in her eyes. Something Peter thought looked like fear. That was when he realized that from the top of the customer’s head and down into their coat they were striped, as if they had on a long beanie-cap.

…Or a robber’s mask.

Peter’s eyes cut up and over to the left where the security mirror was housed. In it, was the same image that was in his mind, but further away. The Corner Store, family built and owned for fifty years, was in the cusp of robbery.

Under normal circumstances, Peter would’ve been content with calling Glen up, telling him to report a crime in progress to his father, then making sure he wasn’t seen or heard until the police arrived. Because they would. More than likely before the robber could escape.

But would the robber go out easily or would they be a thug and go out hard? And if they chose to go out hard, would they use the older woman’s life as collateral? Because it was obvious the robber wasn’t holding up the store with their good looks. They had to have a gun.

It was a risk Peter would’ve had to take ordinarily. But not now. Not while he still had his abilities. Quickly, he began to think up a method of attack. He knew he couldn’t get too close to the register. There were cameras watching it and two monitors displaying what the cameras saw. One of the monitors was in the line of sight of the robber. Peter had to assume the robber was smart and was keeping an eye on it to make sure nobody snuck up on them.

'But if I can get close enough, I can hit him with something,' He thought.

Looking up, he noticed the canned goods. Quietly he took a can off the shelf and sat it down on the ground.

With the weapon of choice selected, Peter sat down on the ground and took off his shoes and socks. There was no need to take the risk of one of his shoes deciding to squeak at the wrong moment. It was also a good idea to have as many of his abilities readily accessible. Sticky pads couldn’t work if they were covered by socks and shoes.

The deep pockets on the 'stalker coat' were able to accommodate a shoe – with sock inserted into shoe – each easily. Sliding the can in to sit securely behind his shoe in the left pocket, Peter pulled his hood up and over his head, but didn’t tighten it so the top hung down and covered the top half of his face. Getting up on all fours he proceeded to move toward his destination.

He navigated the aisles without making a sound until he was at his destination, the center aisle. Looking through the gap between the bottom shelf and the shelf above it, he saw that the robber was still busy at the cash register, focused on the older woman. Though he couldn’t see her below the breast, Peter figured she was pulling the money out of the register by her upper body movements.

Now came the hard part.

Four cameras watched the register area. Two of them looked back down the center aisle while the other two looked at the register. Peter hoped the robber wasn’t smart about the fact that the cameras looking back only showed what was half-way down the center aisle.

Moving before fear had the chance to encroach, Peter maneuvered out onto the center aisle, stood slowly, removed the can from his pocket, and carefully proceeded toward the invisible line.

The older woman saw him. She’d completely forgotten he was in the store.

'Don’t be no hero! I got this under control!' the older woman wanted to say, but could only think it.

Her hands hesitated momentarily with transferring the money into the bag the robber was kind enough to provide. The robber noticed and looked at the older woman’s face. Everything the robber needed to know was written there.

Peter felt the strange itching sensation at the base of his skull again. This time no image followed. There was only knowledge. The robber did, in fact, have a gun. And that gun was about to get turned on him.

Stopping where he was, Peter pulled back his hand, prayed his aim was good, and launched the can at the robber’s head. He’d kept his strength in mind. The objective was to disorient or, hopefully, knock the robber out. He watched as the can spun through the air and struck the robber in the head, just as they were beginning to turn toward his direction.

The robber collapsed to the ground.

Peter and the older woman watched to see if the robber moved. Peter let four seconds pass before he moved in and kicked the gun out of the fallen robber’s outstretched hand.

“Uhhhhh…” the robber moaned lazily. The voice sounded male.

He tried to move.

And that was when the reason The Corner Store had not been successfully robbed in all its years of existence announced her presence with a distinctive shotgun cocking sound. The legendary Big Lucille was in the house.

“Don’t you move unless you don’t want to move no more!” The older woman, now armed, warned the robber.

Robber ceased movement.

Peter did not.

He knew he was on camera and hoped that his hood was enough to cover his face. With Big Lucille in hand, – Peter wondered why she hadn’t come out earlier – the older woman had the situation under control, so he retreated out the front door.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” the older woman called after him, knowing she couldn’t stop him from going out of the front door from her position. The back door was the only one that had a remote-lock on it.

 *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Instead of going up the block and back toward home, Peter went around the corner, passed the alley, and turned back into the neighborhood. He was glad the street hadn’t been busy and that there hadn’t been anyone walking in his direction. The less eyes that saw him leaving a store that was about to become a crime scene, the better.

Now in the safety of the neighborhood, Peter took a moment to put his socks and shoes back on. As he stood and prepared to resume walking, reality of the situation he’d just walked away from took him. It made his stomach churn suddenly.

“Oh no,” he groaned, as his mouth began to salivate and a nasty feeling crept up his throat.

There was no time to find a spot. The nasty feeling charged and Peter threw up all over the sidewalk in front of him. His stomach churned again and forced him to let go one more time before the nasty feeling crept back down his throat and subsided.

Peter took a moment to recompose himself before he stepped around his outburst and kept moving. His mind wandered between all the ways the situation could’ve gone wrong to all the ways the situation had gone right.

'I can’t believe I actually pulled that mess off,' he sighed, hoping the 'stalker coat' had been enough in concealing his identity to the cameras.

The Corner Store’s security system was old school, running on tapes instead of a computer. Those tapes were sure to be reviewed once the police arrived. And if they showed any part of his face, they would be taken and analyzed. If analysis was good enough, Peter knew he could expect a visit from George.

'But he’ll have my back if I have to tell him the truth,' he thought. Happy he could take solace in that.

As if on cue, Glen’s ringtone sounded from the “stalker coat’s” right pocket, startling Peter slightly.

'Please don’t let that be a omen,' he thought, making a quick check to see if he was being watched. All was clear.

Peter took the phone out of his pocket and answered,

“Wus’sup?”

“You at the store right now?” Glen inquired.

Peter felt his defenses rise.

“How’d you know I was goin’ to the store?” he inquired.

“Because I just left your house. I came to drop off your homework and catch you up on what you been missin’ in class,” Glen answered.

“Oh.” Peter felt his defenses drop. “No, I left already. I’m around the corner from the store on the neighborhood side on my way back.”

“Okay, well stop where you’re at and I’ll pick you up. I’m turning at the light right now.”

“All right.”

“See you in a sec.”

“Yep.”

Peter hung up his phone and put it away. As his hand came back out of his pocket, realization came with it. He’d forgotten all about the corn meal and left it at the store.

“Good thing there’s about to be a car involved in my favor.” He thought.

Said car came around the corner a moment later. Peter walked to the end of the curb and waited for Glen to pull up and stop. When he did, Peter went to the car, opened the door, but didn’t shut it after getting in.

“You got water?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Glen answered, reaching into the backseat and bringing back a bottle of water.

He handed it to Peter.

“Thanks.” Peter took it. “Let me rinse my mouth out real quick.”

“What the hell you been doin’?” Glen inquired as Peter proceeded about his chore.

“Lickin’ dog balls,” Peter answered, then took a second rinse.

Glen chuckled.

“You know that’s nasty, right? That’s how you catch fleas,” he said.

“And now I wanna share ‘em with you!” Peter said brightly, shutting the door and putting on the seat belt. “But first, we need to make a quick stop.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *