It was all he could think of. The Spider-Man suit in the Masquerade Rental Shop. Mom retreated two steps at its musty scent and asked for a prince’s cape. And a crown studded with jewels. Lice-free, guaranteed, and 50% off. He’d won Best Costume at Dress-up Day, thanks to Mom who could turn any pumpkin into a prince with her magic wand.
Still, he was a Spider-Man at heart.
So for his Bachelor’s Party, he’d rented it. A full grown-up Spider-Man costume fitted with muscles, a mask, and a cape.
He dived from the roof, intoxicated by childhood dreams.
He’d stuck to her vision. That’s what Spider-Man was about! As agile as a leopard – she missed the Spider-Fly sniggers. The story his muscles would reveal to her! As responsive as a cat – she missed the Spider-Ant snorts. Could he purr? Prime Superhero at tonight’s ball. A throb, a promise, tickled her.
So she threw her net and laughed.
She bloomed, poised atop the stairwell, the rugby team at her feet. He had one shot, so Spider-Man made it count. Against the itch of the mask, the pull of the seam against his crotch.
Her laugh sentenced him.
Most saw a gush of wind, a neighborhood autumn tornado toying with a gardener’s raking mission. The ground, sure that it can’t handle its force, had released it towards the sky. Take it; it’s all but a bag of dreams. Yet the trees, ready to let go of their last mementos of a passionate summer, sent their crimson leaves along.
And something else got pulled by its force. A chiffon scarf from the gardener’s knobby fist. A reminder of her soft confidence, her honesty, and her life – puff, gone!
Blue, red. Most saw a gush of wind. Not him.
Patricia Furstenberg weaves stories that are a blend of facts, folklore, mystery, and almost always include a dog. She believes that facts belong in the history books, but the passion, the thrill and the fantasy, those are the realm of the novels.
She blogs extensively at Stories by Patricia Furstenberg.
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