Chapter 40: Wait?What!!!!

Timeline: September 10, 1947

Location:456 River Road, Manhattan, New York City, NY

Time: 8:00 Am

Two weeks had passed since the tragic incident at Midtown High. The memory of that day still lingered in our minds, a painful reminder of the loss we had suffered. Even though some time had gone by, the pain remained fresh, like a wound that wouldn't go away.

Mark, Emily, Chris, and I walked to the memorial, a path we knew well. We were silent, lost in our own thoughts as we got closer to where Teacher Dan's memorial was placed.

As we approached the memorial, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Seeing Teacher Dan's name etched onto the plaque stirred up a mix of feelings, both joyful and sorrowful. We had come to this spot many times since the tragedy, and each visit served as a solemn reminder of the pain we had gone through.

[Dan Camello

1913 - 1947

In Loving Memory

A Hero Who Died for His Students]

I looked around at the sad faces of the people there. They were visiting their loved ones who died in that tragedy. They were crying and their hearts were painfully heavy. Every time I saw them, it made my heart ache too. After all, if only I had been there fast enough, perhaps I could have saved them all.

The weight of that thought hung heavy on my shoulders as I paid my respects at Teacher Dan's memorial, a silent vow echoing in my mind to do whatever I could to protect those I cared about in the future.

Mark's voice trembled with emotion, breaking the solemn silence. "You know, Michael, I can't shake off the memory of how he died," he said, his words heavy with sorrow. "Whenever I'm at these funerals, it all floods back to me, every single time." His voice wavered slightly, conveying the weight of the memories etched vividly in his mind.

Emily's eyes filled with tears as she listened to Mark's words, her hand reaching out to grip his tightly. She could feel the pain and sadness in his voice, and it resonated deeply within her own heart. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she wordlessly conveyed her support, letting him know that she was there for him, sharing his grief.

I turned to Mark, meeting his eyes with understanding. "Yeah, I know we can't forget, especially those close to us who died. We can't forget them," I affirmed, my voice steady despite the heaviness of the moment. "But what we can do is keep moving forward. Alongside those sad memories, we also hold onto the happy ones we shared with them. That's the only way we can cope with these painful memories."

Then Chris Hilton remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ground as he paid his respects in his own way. Despite his stoic demeanor, I could see the pain in his eyes, a reflection of the grief we all felt.

As I shared those thoughts with Mark, I remembered how devastated I was when my uncle Chris died. It hurt a lot, and for a long time, it felt like nothing could make it better. But as time passed, I realized that my uncle would want me to be happy. Deep down, I felt like he was telling me to find happiness, even in the saddest moments.

As if echoing what I was thinking, Chris Hilton, who was nearby, spoke up with a solemn tone, saying, "It would be disrespectful to them if we just keep crying." His words were filled with wisdom, reminding us that while grieving is normal, we also honor our loved ones by living fully.

Mark nodded in understanding, his voice filled with acceptance as he replied, "Yeah, I guess all we can do is keep moving forward while remembering them." His words carried a tone of somber determination, acknowledging the need to honor the past while embracing the future.

(We'll Meet Again, 1939)

Song by Vera Lynn

Lyrics:

Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear

Just for a while dear we must part

Don't let this parting upset you

I'll not forget you, sweetheart

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Til the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away

And I will just say hello

To the folks that you know

Tell them you won't be long

They'll be happy to know

That as I saw you go

You were singing this song

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

And I will just say hello

To the folks that you know

Tell them you won't be long

They'll be happy to know

That as I saw you go

You were singing this song

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.

After paying our respects at the funeral, we went to a diner nearby. Inside, it was cozy and welcoming, a nice change from the sadness outside.

We sat down in a comfy booth and checked out the menu, hoping to find something comforting to eat. The waitress, in her 1947 uniform, gave us a warm welcome, which was a nice change from the sadness of the funeral.

We ordered simple sandwiches and salads, then sat down to chat, the sound of utensils on plates mixing with our conversations. Even though we were weighed down by grief, being together brought some relief. Chris and Emily, despite being wealthy, were fine with the basic food. Their willingness to eat here with us spoke volumes about their character

As we ate our sandwiches and salads, Emily turned to Mark with a sympathetic smile. "How's your sister doing? I mean, she's still in school, right?" She paused for a moment before continuing, "You know, she's working for her tuition in school, but if you want, Mark, I can provide for her." Her offer was genuine, reflecting her kindness and concern for Mark's family.

Mark nodded appreciatively at Emily's offer. "Thanks, but my sister is kinda stubborn. She doesn't want that," he explained with a fond smile. "But she's determined to get a scholarship no matter what." His words conveyed both pride in his sister's determination and gratitude for Emily's kindness.

"Yeah, she's tough," I added, nodding in agreement with Mark. "But family sticks together. She's got your back, just like you've got hers. That's what family does."

Emily smiled warmly, clearly impressed by Mark's sister. "She sounds amazing," she said sincerely. "If there's anything I can do to help, just say the word, alright?"

Mark nodded, his face showing gratitude. "Thanks, Emily. I really appreciate it," he said sincerely, touched by her kindness. "But we're doing alright for now. We've got each other, and that's what matters most."

Mary Rose always worked hard for herself and her brother, showing her dedication and independence. She insisted on paying her school tuition herself, not wanting to burden anyone else. When I asked why, she said, "I don't want to cause trouble for them." Her words showed her humble and caring personality. Mary Rose's kindness and determination leaving a lasting impression on me.

As for Mark, he was always hustling, taking on side jobs like selling his handmade crafts and peddling goods door-to-door. He did whatever it took to earn money, showing his resourcefulness and determination. Whether it was selling handmade items or finding odd jobs, Mark was relentless in his efforts to support himself and his sister. His determination and resourcefulness were admirable, reflecting his strong work ethic and commitment to his family.

Chris then suggested, "How about working with me in a company, Mark? Your resourcefulness would be highly valued, and I'm sure many people would appreciate your hard work. Even though we're just students, there are opportunities for part-time jobs in my company." 

Mark's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected offer from Chris. "Really? You'd do that for me?" he asked, a mixture of disbelief and gratitude evident in his tone.

Chris nodded earnestly. "Of course. I've seen firsthand how capable you are, Mark. You'd be a valuable asset to any team," he affirmed, his words carrying genuine sincerity.

A sense of hope flickered in Mark's eyes as he thought about the chance for a steady job at Chris's company. It was an opportunity he hadn't dared to imagine before, one that held the promise of a brighter future for himself and his sister.

"Thank you, Chris. I'll definitely think about it," Mark replied, his voice filled with excitement and gratitude. The idea of working with Chris sparked a sense of hope and determination within him.

With a friendly smile, Chris agreed, "I'll talk to my dad and see if we can get you on board." He genuinely wanted to assist Mark. "Just keep doing what you're doing, and I'm sure good things will come your way." His words were comforting and uplifting, boosting Mark's confidence.

As we finished our meal and prepared to part ways, there was a sense of camaraderie and unity among us. Suddenly, Mark turned to me with a hopeful expression. "Michael, want to join me in my sidelines? I could really use a helping hand," he proposed, his eyes showing that he was eager and serious about his suggestion.

"Sure, I can help you out for a bit," I replied to Mark, considering the opportunity to assist him. In my mind, I reasoned, "I should help Mark for now. I've been Spider-Man every day, so maybe I should assist Mark for a bit and then resume my duties as Spider-Man. After all, I need to continue with more quests and help people; it's my responsibility as a hero."

Emily and Chris exchanged glances, their expressions thoughtful. Emily offered her support, "It sounds like a great idea, Mark. You two could make a good team."

Chris nodded in agreement. "I could join too," he suggested, his tone conveying genuine interest.

Mark's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the prospect of having Emily on board as well. "Great! You two could join. How about you, Emily?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

Emily smiled warmly, considering the offer. "Sure, why not?" she replied, her voice reflecting her willingness to be part of the endeavor. "It could be fun working together."

With everyone on board, there was a sense of excitement in the air as we discussed the details of our new venture.

Arriving in Forest Hills, Queens, the city's lively atmosphere enveloped us. Mark confidently strode towards the newspaper stand, As Mark approached the newspaper stand, he called out, "Mr. Hardway, where are the newspapers?"

Yes We Know, Mark's involvement in distributing newspapers serves as one of his side jobs to earn money and support himself and his sister.

Then, Mr. Hardway, the stand owner, looked up and smiled, recognizing Mark. "Ah, it's you, Mark. Here you go," he replied, handing over the stack of newspapers. Then, noticing the rest of us, he asked, "And who are these little fellas? Your friends?"

Mark grinned and gestured towards us. "Yeah, these are my friends. We're here to lend a hand," he explained, his tone reflecting his gratitude for our support.

Mr. Hardway nodded approvingly. "Good to see young folks helping each other out," he remarked with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. As Mark grabbed the newspapers, Mr. Hardway wished us luck, then we set off to distribute the papers throughout the neighborhood.

Mark divided the newspapers between us, handing them out as he directed. "Michael and Chris will be going that way, and Emily and I will take this direction," he instructed, organizing our distribution routes.

I teased Mark playfully, "So you can be all lovey-dovey with your girlfriend, huh?"

Emily joined in the teasing, nudging Mark with a playful grin. "Yeah, Sorry to burst your teasing, Michael," she joked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Chris chimed in with a smirk, "Looks like you lose in teasing, Michael. Better watch your back."

Mark's cheeks flushed slightly as he shot Emily a playful glare. "Come on, Em, don't encourage him," he said, trying to play it cool despite the teasing.

Emily just grinned mischievously. "I'm just stating the truth," she said, wrapping her arm around Mark's affectionately. "Right, darling?"

Chris chimed in with a smirk, teasingly adding to the banter. "Well, it seems it's just you and me, pal. Bachelor's club it is," he joked, earning a chuckle from me.

With our distribution routes planned out and our good-natured banter lightening the mood, we set off to tackle our task, ready to make the most of the day ahead.

With cheerful laughter, we split up and embarked on our designated paths, the friendly bond among us making our mission feel more manageable.

As we continued to distribute the newspapers, Chris pointed to a nearby house. "Michael, why don't you take that one, and I'll cover this area?" he suggested, dividing our efforts to cover more ground efficiently.

As I approached the house, I called out, "Hello, news delivery is here!"

From inside, a woman's voice responded, "Ben Parker, can you open the door for me and get the newspaper?"

I was taken aback. "Wait, what? Ben Parker?" I thought to myself. Did I mishear it? It couldn't be. Ben Parker should be much older.

A young boy's voice replied obediently, "Yes, Mom."

When the door opened, I saw a kid who looked way too young to be Ben Parker. It didn't add up. In the comics, it was 1962, the time when Peter Parker became Spider-Man. Ben should've been much older by now, like in his 30s or early 40s. I was totally puzzled. So, I turned to the AI system for some answers.

"System, is this really Ben Parker?" I asked in my mind, hoping for some explanation.

The AI System responded after a moment, "Initiating... confirmed. Yes, host, this is Ben Parker."

Status

Ben Parker

Age:10 years old

Attributes:

Strength: 7

Agility: 10

Endurance:7

Stamina: 10

Intelligence: 15

Reflexes: 10

Charisma: 10

Luck: 10

As I stood there, trying to make sense of the situation, confusion clouded my thoughts. "Wait a minute," I muttered, addressing the Spider-Man System. "Why did you mention that Peter Parker became Spider-Man in 1962?" I demanded, seeking an explanation for the inconsistency.

As the system processed the information, a moment of realization dawned upon it. "Forgive me, Host," it replied apologetically. "It appears that I made an error. I mistakenly assumed this universe to be similar to the original Spider-Man universe."

As I processed the system's mistake, a sense of confusion and apprehension took hold. "Holy shit," I whispered, my thoughts spinning with uncertainty. "If this isn't 1962, when did Peter become Spider-Man?" The sudden realization left me intrigued and anxious.

To be Continued