Verwandte Artikel zu Spider-Man

9780345450050: Spider-Man
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0345450051 ISBN 13: 9780345450050
Verlag: Del Rey, 2002

Inhaltsangabe

The explosive tale of Marvel Comics’ crime-fighting superhero

SPIDER-MAN

It begins with an orphan named Peter Parker, raised by his beloved Aunt May and Uncle Ben in Queens, New York. A quiet student, he works diligently at his studies and pines for the beautiful Mary Jane Watson. But this ordinary teenage boy is about to have his life turned upside down, when he is bitten by a genetically altered spider. Suddenly, he finds himself possessed of spectacular powers.He is now and forever Spider-Man!

Follow Spider-Man’s action-packed journey, from his struggle to harness the extraordinary gifts that will prove to be both blessing and curse, to his fight to save innocent lives while the media tears him to pieces. It all leads up to his ultimate battle high above New York streets, against the death-dealing madman known as the Green Goblin. While the city watches helplessly and countless lives hang in the balance, Spider-Man confronts his archnemesis, and the Goblin puts Spider-Man’s vow to fight crime to the ultimate test . . .

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Peter David is famous for writing some of the most popular of the originalStar Trek: The Next Generation novels, including Imzadi and A Rock and a Hard Place. His original works include the original fantasySir Apropos of Nothing, the Arthurian novel Knight Life, and the quirky werewolf storyHowling Mad. He single-handedly revived the classic comic book series The Incredible Hulk and has written just about every famous comic book superhero, includingSpider-Man and the futuristic Spider-Man 2099. He collaborated with J. Michael Straczynski on theBabylon 5 novels and comic book series, and with Bill Mumy, he created the Nickelodeon television seriesSpace Cases. In his spare time, he writes movie screenplays, children’s books, and TV scripts.

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plosive tale of Marvel Comics’ crime-fighting superhero

SPIDER-MAN

It begins with an orphan named Peter Parker, raised by his beloved Aunt May and Uncle Ben in Queens, New York. A quiet student, he works diligently at his studies and pines for the beautiful Mary Jane Watson. But this ordinary teenage boy is about to have his life turned upside down, when he is bitten by a genetically altered spider. Suddenly, he finds himself possessed of spectacular powers. He is now and forever Spider-Man!

Follow Spider-Man’s action-packed journey, from his struggle to harness the extraordinary gifts that will prove to be both blessing and curse, to his fight to save innocent lives while the media tears him to pieces. It all leads up to his ultimate battle high above New York streets, against the death-dealing madman known as the Green Goblin. While the city watches helplessly and countless lives hang in the balance, Spi

Aus dem Klappentext

plosive tale of Marvel Comics crime-fighting superhero

SPIDER-MAN

It begins with an orphan named Peter Parker, raised by his beloved Aunt May and Uncle Ben in Queens, New York. A quiet student, he works diligently at his studies and pines for the beautiful Mary Jane Watson. But this ordinary teenage boy is about to have his life turned upside down, when he is bitten by a genetically altered spider. Suddenly, he finds himself possessed of spectacular powers. He is now and forever Spider-Man!

Follow Spider-Man s action-packed journey, from his struggle to harness the extraordinary gifts that will prove to be both blessing and curse, to his fight to save innocent lives while the media tears him to pieces. It all leads up to his ultimate battle high above New York streets, against the death-dealing madman known as the Green Goblin. While the city watches helplessly and countless lives hang in the balance, Spi

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THE ARRIVAL

It smelled weird.

That was the first thing that Peter noticed. The moment he stepped over the threshold, he noticed the smell of the house. It was . . . it was antiseptic, somehow. Not that young Peter, standing there so neatly attired in his blue shorts, white shirt, and yellow sweater vest, would have known the word "antiseptic." That was a big, important word. Most four-year-olds hadn't heard the word, couldn't use it in context, couldn't even come close to spelling it. In this regard, Peter Parker, who had celebrated his birthday the previous August at a big and splendid party where his parents had made a marvelous fuss over him, was no different. By age five, however, he would be able to correctly define and spell it . . . along with "microbiology," "cellular," and "mitosis." On the other hand, he would continue to stumble over "photosynthesis" and "paleontologist" until he reached the ripe old age of six.

Peter, however, wasn't looking that far ahead. Five and six were an eternity away. All that concerned Peter at that moment was the here and now. And what was here, and what wasn't.

He was here. These strange people whom he had supposedly met once, when he was a baby--but he sure couldn't remember--were here. That weird smell was here.

His parents were not.

The living room in which he was standing didn't seem even remotely inviting. The cushions of the couch were covered in plastic. He'd tried to sit on one and hadn't liked the way it had stuck to the underside of his legs. So he'd slid off it, but it had made this really weird squeaky "ripping" sound, and he hadn't liked that either.

The man and woman who were bringing the last of his things into the house, who were speaking in hushed whispers to the woman named Miss Hemmings--the "social worker," she'd been called--those people weren't paying any attention to him. That suited him fine. Perhaps he could simply reside there like a ghost, no one noticing him. When he was hungry, he could snitch food from the kitchen, presuming they had one, and otherwise be left alone.

He wanted that more than anything . . . particularly to be left alone by the man, who reminded him a little of his father. Except it wasn't him, and that made him feel all the more uneasy.

The door closed, shutting out the outside world. The smell of the plastic cushions threatened to suffocate him. He would have screamed if he could have worked up the energy to do so, but he felt wrung out, like a sponge.

The carpet was weird, too. It felt slightly moist under his feet, as if it had been just washed. Just to add to the assault, there was a lemony smell coming from all the wood furniture. He stared down at his reflection on the coffee table. There were flowers arranged neatly on a small lacy thing in the middle of it. He leaned forward to smell the flowers. The flowers, he realized belatedly, were fake. They were the only things in the whole living room that didn't smell.

"Well, Peter," said the man, coming into the room. He clapped his hands once and rubbed them briskly together. The magician at Peter's birthday party had done something similar, right before he'd produced coins from out of nowhere. He'd pretended he'd pulled them from thin air, but Peter had spotted the sleight-of-hand. In a loud voice he'd explained every single one of the magician's tricks, to the irritation of the conjurer and the endless amusement of his parents. His mother's laugh still rang in his ears. He hadn't yet been able to grasp the notion that he would never hear that laughter again.

"Well, Peter," the man said again, "would you like to sit down?"

"No, sir," Peter said politely, addressing the older man as "sir," just as his parents had always taught him.

"Land sakes, child," the woman said. "You can't just plan to stand there forever. Why won't you sit?"

He saw no reason to lie. "I don't like the plastic."

"The plastic protects the cushions," she said reasonably. "You understand that, don't you, Peter?"

"No, ma'am."

"Oh." She seemed vaguely disappointed. He felt as if he'd let her down in some way.

"Peter . . ." And the man got down on one knee. Closer up, the resemblance between this man and Peter's father was more striking. He had that same square jaw, that same laughter in his eyes. His hair was a different color, more red in it, and his eyebrows were bushier. Peter's nostrils flared. The man smelled funny, too.

"Why are you sniffing me, Peter? Are you part cocker spaniel?"

"You have a funny smell, sir."

"That would be my aftershave."

"It was his Christmas present," the woman said proudly. She sat down on the couch, her hands neatly folded in her lap. The couch made that same weird plastic-creaking sound when she sat on it. "Do you like it?"

"Smells like poop, ma'am," Peter said.

Her mouth immediately stretched to a thin line, while the man guffawed heartily. "He has his father's tact," the man said . . . and then immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Peter. I spoke without thinking."

Peter's eyebrows knit. "You have to think to speak, don't you, sir?"

"Less often than you've been led to believe. And please, Peter, call me Uncle Ben. Have you ever heard of your Uncle Ben?" Encouraged by the boy's prompt nod, he said, "What have you heard?"

"That you make . . ." He frowned, trying to recall the word. ". . . perverted rice."

Now it was the woman's turn to laugh, as Uncle Ben's cheeks reddened slightly. "Different Uncle Ben, Peter. And I think you mean 'converted' rice."

"Oh." He was studying the woman now, comparing her automatically to the only woman who'd had a major place in his life. Her face was narrower, her eyes a bit more sunken. Her hair, which was brown with gray streaks, was tied back in a severe bun. She had a long neck and her hands tended to flutter toward it, as if she was trying to cool down waves of heat. "Okay," he added, to fill the silence.

"I'm your Aunt May," she told him. She said this with a great deal of gravity, as if she were revealing one of the great secrets of the universe.

"Okay," he said again.

The man clapped his hands together again. Peter waited for a dove to appear or a coin to drop out of the air. None was forthcoming. "Would you like to see your room, Peter?"

Finally something he understood. He nodded eagerly. "Do you wanna see where I drew some cowboys on the wall?" he asked.

Ben and May exchanged puzzled glances. "What do you mean, Peter?" Ben asked.

"Where I drew some cowboys. When I was little. Mommy yelled at me, and tried to wash them off, but you can still see them, 'cause I used markers."

"Ohhh," Ben said, and it sounded a little like a moan when he said it. "Peter, I mean your new room. Here."

"Can't I go back to my old room?"

"Peter, dear," said May, and she took his hand in hers. Her hand felt cold, but smooth, as if she'd put some sort of lotion on it. He noticed a few brown spots on the back of her hand and wondered what it would be like to connect them. "Your old room is back in Wisconsin. I thought the social worker explained it. . . . You'll be staying here, in New York. With us."

"Can't we stay at my house?"

"But Peter, this is where we live. And this is where you're going to live now," Ben told him,...

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Verlag
Del Rey
Erscheinungsdatum
2002
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0345450051
ISBN 13 
9780345450050
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
311
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Verantwortliche Person
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