Aubrey Adkins
Pacific Point, CA
I climbed the last story to reach the rooftop of the Children’s Hospital of Pacific Point. The staff of the hospital, who had invited me to make an appearance for one of their sick patients, requested that I enter via the roof. Otherwise, I would have caused a fiasco if I had waltzed through the front door. Some people probably would swarm me, wanting autographs or pictures, while others might be concerned that a superhero would be a magnet for supervillains. And let’s be honest here: I wouldn’t blow off the second group’s concerns, as trouble is usually not far away when people like me are around.
“Sorry about the delay. I had a few costume issues to sort out,” I apologized while I caught my breath, holding my hands on my hips. I actually made good time considering I came by foot, but I had to dash here from my apartment to do so. If I had not made the mistake of setting the Game Genie cube to make me look like a human-shaped Spider-Gwen rather than the current drider one, I would have gotten here way faster.
“You’re right on time, so don’t worry about it,” the staff members, who probably had organized this whole event, told me.
“And we weren’t expecting such an authentic looking costume, too!” a nurse, who had accompanied the staff member to the roof, complemented me. Since she was the only nurse waiting for me, I guess that she was assigned to the girl, whom I came to see. I can't really take all the credit for the costume. The Game Genie tech did all the magic.
“You have no idea how hard to keep this thing clean. I don’t know how anyone in my profession wears white.”“Probably with a ton of bleach,” the nurse proposed.
“Shall we head inside?” the staff member asked while gesturing towards the door. Both I and the nurse nodded in agreement.
The first challenge of the day was to get this Spider-Gwen costume to work with my drider anatomy. The second challenge then presented itself on the roof: getting through the roof access door. However, the issue wasn’t what you’re probably thinking. My spider abdomen is actually quite malleable, so I could just squeeze it through the doorway. The issue was with my legs being wider than the door. I had to put my first two pairs of legs through the door first and pull myself through. Luckily the rest of the hospital had double doors throughout.
After winding through the hospital’s corridors, the nurse and staff member finally lead me to the room that housed the patient I came to see. Again, I had to wiggle my way through a door not built with a person like me in mind. But once I got through the door, I immediately saw the young girl’s eyes shine with excitement. She was quite young, maybe around eight years old. Her head was entirely bald, probably from the chemotherapy. In her arms, the girl clung tight to a Spider-Gwen plush doll.
“Look who came to see you, Molly,” the nurse told the young girl in one of those voices adults use when talking to young children. The nurse helped Molly sit up in her bed and slip into the slippers resting in front of the bed. The nurse then aided the girl in walking over towards me.
“This is the best day of my life!” Molly blurted out before she wrapped her arms around my waist, still holding tight to the Spider-Gwen plushie. This all just melted my heart, yet broke it at the same time. I could save the city from rampaging metahumans and insane terrorists, but I was powerless to do anything for this girl except as moral support.
Or could I? I have a healing factor. Would giving a blood transfusion potentially cure the cancer Molly had? But it couldn’t just as simple as it is in the comics. I bet the regular blood transfusion rules still apply. Also, would it be fair to all of the other children not only in this hospital, but also all across the country that this girl gets a miracle treatment and they wouldn’t? And what would the possible complications be? Would it even be worth it?
And even if I would try to donate as much blood to as many sick children as possible, I only have so much blood to give. Who would decide who would receive a dose and who would have to wait? That’s just a decision that I could never make without having some regrets for the children who die before I could donate any more blood. But does that mean I shouldn’t do it at all?
“Mommy, could I get a picture? Please!” Molly turned to her mom and dad, who were standing to the side.
“Is that alright with you?” Molly’s mother asked me as she pulled her cell phone.
“I don’t see why not,” I answered back. I then lowered myself, so the underside of my spider half was resting against the hospital floor right next to Molly. After I placed one arm over Molly’s shoulder while throwing up two fingers in a peace sign, her mom snapped a few pictures.
“Can Spider-Gwen make a swing for me? Can she, can she?”
“If you take it easy, I’ll allow it,” the nurse relented. Her parents nodded in agreement.
“Molly, could you stand by your mom while I make a swing for you?”After Molly had stepped aside, I took a look at the ceiling: it looked stable enough to support a little girl. I then propped myself up on my second and third pairs of legs to elevate myself high enough to reach the ceiling. My hind pair of legs were tasked with drawing silk from the spinnerets on my spider abdomen, while my front legs conveyed this silk up to my hands, so I could adhere it to the ceiling. After a few minutes of work, I was able to make a swing out of a handful of web strands. To complete the swing, I wrapped a nonstick silk around the bottom half where Molly would be sitting and holding onto the swing.
The nurse then helped Molly over to the swing. Once she was sitting on the makeshift swing, I gently began to push her forward.
“So, what made you decide to be a superhero?” Molly asked me as she continued to swing. This question made me pause for a moment to think. This drastic change to my life had happened so fast that I never stopped to contemplate such a question.
“At first, I kind of was thrust into it. After I developed my powers, it was just the thing to do,” I began to answer Molly’s question.
“But after a while, I realized that doing this job allowed me to be myself. While I was in costume, I didn’t need to hide who I was. I hate lying to my family and friends. It’s a break from the façade I have to wear all day long. Maybe someday I'll be able to be myself without hiding behind a mask, but until then, this will have to do.”"Is it because you're afraid the bad guys might hurt you friends if they found out who you are?"
"There's that. But I'm also afraid what others will think if they knew what I really am.""I'm sure there are plenty of people who wouldn't feel different of you. I don't!"
"I hope so."
Zombiedude101
