A Super Find

Sebastian just couldn’t resist a yard sale. He stepped off the bus at the end of a long night shift at the bottle factory. He couldn’t wait to get home, flop into his armchair and turn on the tv. As he turned the corner, he saw a driveway full of furniture and tables covered in books, clothing, and all the usual discarded items. Sebastian had found some fantastic things at yard sales, so he stopped to hunt for hidden treasure. After all, most of his apartment was furnished with tables and chairs from yard sales or second-hand stores. Some of his prize possessions once belonged to other people.

He ran his hands across the shelves of an old wooden bookcase. It seemed sturdy enough and the wood was in great shape. The price tag read $20. A bit of sandpaper and a coat of new stain and this would be perfect for the corner next to the TV. His ex-girlfriend had moved out last month and taken the shelf that had been there.

As he picked up a small table lamp, the owner of the house approached. She was an older lady, possibly in her 80s. She reminded him of his grandmother, who he missed terribly.

They discussed the price of the lamp – too much for something that might not even work. Sebastian was the only customer so she followed him to the next table, filling him in on the history of each item if she could remember it. She and her husband had moved around a lot and travelled in their younger years, so there was a veritable treasure trove of gadgets and keepsakes.

“My husband, Ned, was such a pack rat,” she said. Sebastian raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Oh, he passed away last month. I’m just trying to clean up some of the clutter and hope to make a bit of money. Every little bit helps. I will likely need to sell the house as well,” she added with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. He wasn’t sure how else to respond and felt awkward now, pawing through a dead man’s belongings. He put the old vinyl album back in the box. Broadway musicals were not his style anyway. He offered her a $20 bill for the bookcase and she slid it into her front pocket. “I’ll keep looking though,” he added, “Just to see if I can find anything else I want.” He wanted to help her out if he could find something else even remotely worth buying.

The woman continued with pleasant, idle chatter as Sebastian moved to the next table. He asked her, “Don’t you have any kids or grandkids who would want some of these things?”

“Oh no,” she said,” We had a son, but he died years ago and had no children of his own. It’s just me now, and I have no need for these things. Do you know, Ned insisted on bringing all of this along every time we moved? Even though he didn’t even unpack the boxes half the time! He’s had some of these things since he was a kid. But there was no talking him out of any of it.” She shook her head, but he could see a wistful smile on her lips. She didn’t really mind it.

Another man approached the yard and she excused herself to go greet him. Sebastian turned to the next table and thumbed through a stack of old magazines. Amongst them was an old faded envelope. The kind with a string to bind it together, wound around two worn leather discs. The word “comics” was scrawled across the top in faded ink. He smiled to himself. Jackpot. He slid the envelope out of the stack and gently unwound the string. Sebastian’s obsession with comic books began when he was 8 years old. His dad had brought him a copy of Conan the Barbarian because a work colleague had said he might enjoy it. He loved it so much that he began to spend every dollar of his allowance on Conan, King Kull and Red Sonja. At the age of 10, he was taking odd jobs around the neighbourhood mowing lawns and cleaning attics just so he could pick up issues of Iron Man or the Silver Surfer. A paper route earned him every issue of Spiderman and Batman as they came out.

As he got older, Sebastian began to delve into the older comics. He found the world of comic book collectors and searched high and low for old issues of Superman and Captain America, sometimes spending a significant amount of money at comic book conventions, bidding on books at auction. It was the one thing on which he would splurge and spend his hard-earned cash.

It’s also amazing what he could find for pennies in the second-hand bookstores and at yard sales like this one.

He turned the envelope and slid a handful of comic books out. Each one was in a plastic sleeve with a hard piece of cardboard to keep it from bending. Reading the title on each, he could barely contain his excitement. If these were what he thought they were, they did not belong here at a yard sale. He looked at the issue of Batman #1 and turned it over, looking for signs of what year it was reprinted. To his shock, he started to believe this might be an original issue. He was afraid to open it on the spot because if it was real, it was worth almost a half million dollars and he would not want to risk touching those pages here on the street.

The next book was also, as far as he could tell, an original. It was the first issue of Captain America, the cover featuring the red, white and blue hero punching none other than Adolf Hitler in the face. If this was in good shape, it was also worth a few hundred thousand dollars.

The old woman returned, and Sebastian turned to her in amazement. “How much?” he asked.

“Oh, for those old things? Ned’s had those since he was a kid, like I said. If you want them, you can have them. Clearly, she didn’t know what she had. Sebastian took the third comic from the pack and stared in disbelief. Action Comics number 1. He couldn’t believe it possible. So few original copies of this comic even exist it would be next to impossible to find here. Yet, as he examined the front cover, he could see the original cover price. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, which he knew to be 7 inches long and used it to measure the size of the book. This was not a reprint. Even the most damaged copy would be worth six figures. A pristine copy could sell for millions.

Again, he stared at the woman smiling at him and stammered. “I have to pay you. These are worth some money…”

“Well, whatever you feel is fair,” she said. Carefully, he placed all of the comics back into the dusty old envelope and twisted the string to bind it closed. Sebastian took out his wallet and found only $45. Without a word, he handed over the cash.

“Oh, you are such a dear!”

Unable to speak, he nodded his thanks, clutched the envelope tight and walked away.

The woman called after him, “Don’t forget your bookcase!”

“Keep it,” he muttered.

Feeling a strange mixture of elation and self-hatred, Sebastian took his new purchase up to his apartment. He washed his hands, cleaned the kitchen table and made absolutely certain there was no trace of moisture there. He laid the books across the table and stared. Using his smartphone, he looked up tips on how to tell the real deal from a re-print. Everything he found told him these were real, first editions.

For the next few hours, he carefully read these comics from cover to cover. Old Ned had kept them in near mint condition, and Sebastian wondered how he had known back then, as a kid, to keep them so perfect. He wondered if he ever even read them himself.

Sebastian couldn’t sleep that afternoon. That night, even when he drifted off, he kept waking up and glancing at the comic books on my table, just to make sure they were still there.

On Sunday, he contacted a collector he had dealt with before and arranged a meeting. Mel’s Million Comics was closed, but Mel let him in the back door.

“How in the seven hells did you get your hands on these?” Mel asked after a lengthy examination of the books. Sebastian told him about the yard sale and Mel sat back and let out one long whistle.

“You know you just ripped this lady off, right?”

“Maybe I can give her some of they money if I sell them?”

“Well sure, you could. But could you sell them? Do you think you could part with the bloody Holy Grail of comic book collections?”

Sebastian reached up and held up one of the comics. It was a Whiz Comics issue, but not the first appearance of Captain Marvel. Definitely worth some money, but not as highly sought after.

“What if I sell this one?” he asked.

Mel took the book back and made a show of re-examining it. “Could get you 8 or 9 thousand, depending where you sell it. I could take it to auction next month.”

Sebastian sorted through the comics and made two piles. Superman’s Action Comics #1, Batman #1 and Captain America #1 were in one pile, and Captain Marvel and the others in a second with a selection of other valuable, but not as well known titles. He pushed that pile towards Mel and asked, “How much would that lot be worth?”

Mel could barely contain his disappointment at not being offered the trifecta of comic book gold, but he cleared his throat once and said, “Probably about $300,000.00 if I take it to Toronto next month. More if you wait til I go to San Diego in the fall.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.” He gathered up all the comics and put them back in their dusty old envelope, nodded his thanks, and left Mel’s shop. That night, he read through each book again, carefully turning the pages and imagining what it would have been like to buy these when they first came out.

That night, Sebastian dreamed of superheroes and supervillains. He dreamed of flying next to Superman and fighting alongside Cap. But then his dreams turned darker. Storm clouds rushed in and lightning knocked him out of the sky. He came crashing to the ground in a torrent of rain and found himself standing in a circle of old men, all booing and hissing at him.

He turned and looked at each face. He recognized Stan Lee, the writer and artist behind so many of his favourite superheroes, including Cap himself. Next to Stan were Jerry Siegal and Joe Shuster, the creators of Superman. He recognized them from old photos he had seen. Both of them were shaking their heads and looked very angry with him. Next was Bob Kane, the talent behind the Batman comics, among others. Turning one last time, Sebastian was faced with another old man, but one that was unfamiliar to him. Yet, somehow, he knew in his dream state that this was Ned. The owner of the comic books he had bought for a steal.

Each of these men spit at him in turn and turned away in disgust. Distraught, Sebastian looked up and saw Captain Marvel standing over him. “You are not worthy,” he said, and sped up into the sky. Sebastian tried, but could not follow. He had lost his superpowers.

He woke with a start as a loud clap of thunder shook the room. He rolled over and looked at the clock. 8:22am. Mel would just be getting to his shop. He picked up the phone and dialled. Mel answered on the second ring.

“Mel, I’ll do it. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I want to sell all but the top three.”

Thirty minutes later he was shaking hands with Mel over a verbal agreement to a 10% cut plus handling fees.

Over the next few weeks, Sebastian walked past the old lady’s house daily, wanting to knock on the door, but never worked up the courage. The “for sale” sign appeared close to the end of the month. He looked up the listing and learned her name was Elizabeth Cress.

About 5 weeks after giving the comics to Mel, he received a phone call. Mel had a cashier’s cheque for him and wanted to meet him at the store. When he arrived, Mel held out the cheque to him. With only a slight tremor, he reached out and took the cheque.

“Are you sure you’re not willing to part with the others?” Mel asked. Sebastian shook his head. It seemed he was unable to hold that much money and speak at the same time.

---------------------------------------------

Elizabeth waited in her living room. The real estate agent had called, excited by an offer that had been made on the house. She was eager to be paid, as she had bills to pay, but she was sad to let the place go. Ned had liked to move around, but she was happier when they decided to stay in this house and make it a permanent home. Memories filled every corner of every room. She would have to begin packing things up soon, she supposed.

The doorbell chimed and she stood to receive her visitors. The real estate agent, a young lady with a smart sense of style stood beaming in the doorway. Next to her was a young man in jeans and a t-shirt. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she could not quite place him.

The agent and the young man accepted the seats she offered them and the fresh lemonade she poured out into glasses on the table.

The young man turned to her and reached his hand out. She politely shook his hand and he said, “My name is Sebastian Wen, ma’am. We met a few weeks ago.

Suddenly, she was able to remember where she had seen him before. “The bookcase!” she said, “You paid me but never came back for it.”

Sebastian smiled, “You can keep the bookcase ma’am. Or sell it. That’s up to you. But I’m here to make sure you don’t have to sell anything else you don’t want to.”

Not understanding, she glanced from Sebastian to the real estate agent and back again.

“I sold most of the comics. I kept a few, but I sold most.” He handed an envelope to her and she slid it open. Inside was a cashiers cheque for $758,000.00.

When she was able to speak, she said, “I don’t understand. Are you saying the comics were worth this much money?”

“You had no idea what you sold to me at the yard sale. Now, I collect comic books so I can’t bear to part with all of them. But I sold a lot and you deserve the money more than I do. And like a thief in the night I bought something worth millions for only a few dollars. I kept three that I really want to have but the sale money is yours,” he explained.

“Those old comic books?” she asked incredulously. “Millions?” Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “My,” she said. “My…” she repeated. She picked up the framed photo on the table next to her and gazed into Ned’s crinkly old eyes. “Did you know?”

Sebastian stood and said, “I should be going. I just wanted to bring you that.”

Elizabeth stood as well and put her hand on his arm. “Not so fast,” she said.

Sebastian was afraid of this. She was going to want the three comics back too. Or the money they were worth.

“Come with me,” she said. She led him down the hall to an office at the end of the hall. “This was Ned’s study. I’ve been cleaning more since the yard sale and I unearthed a few things you might be interested to see.”

Sebastian looked in the corner where she was pointing. There were two cardboard boxes stacked there. Both labelled in faded ink, “Comics.”

“Do you think there would be anything in there that could be worth money?” she asked.

Sebastian gently lifted the lid from the top box and began to thumb through the plastic covered books. He slid one out and examined the old issue of Whiz Comics. The cover price ten cents but it was probably worth several thousand dollars. He pulled out a few more random selections. Most of these seemed to be from the 40’s and 50’s. All original issues.

He let out a slow whistle, and then turned to Elizabeth. “You are sitting on a fortune here,” he said. These are in mint condition. And worth more than you can imagine.”

Elizabeth patted him on the shoulder and said, “Well then. I was going to throw them away. But why don’t we make a deal. You can keep some for your collection if you help me sell the rest.”

“You’ve got a deal,” he whispered.

That night, Sebastian dreamed of superpowers. Captain Marvel, Stan Lee, Ned and all the others smiled at him as he leapt into the sky, up, up and away.