A Collected Hero

Shards of glass covered the concrete and glistened in the morning summer sun. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Dustin said as his tires screeched. He groaned as he lifted his body out of the car and felt the glass crunch under his feet.

“Just tell me they’re safe.” Sweat dripped down his forehead as he wrestled with the lock. He couldn’t risk trying to slide through the opening amidst the jagged glass. Chimes rang as the door slowly shut and his arms knocked over packs of cards and collectibles as he hurried to inspect the shelf behind the register.

“Not my first editions!” He shook his head while his hands filled with sweaty hair. Empty rectangles reflected the fluorescent lighting as he searched frantically for fingerprints in the surrounding dust. “I’ll never rescue them in time.” He rubbed his temples and tried to slow his heavy breathing.

He dialed 9-1-1 and walked through the rest of the store, noticing no damage or vandalism outside of the loss of his prized items. “I can assure you that’s how much they’re worth. Look, some knave stole from my store and there’s broken glass everywhere.” He shook his head as he hung up and stepped outside.

None of the other businesses in the mall were touched. Whoever did this must have known they’d been graded in mint condition. Dustin’s footsteps echoed in the covered sidewalk as he returned to his storefront. The approaching sirens provided little relief as he sighed and sat on the hood of his car.

“Sir, could you move your car from the fire lane please,” an officer said, circling his hand from the window of the cruiser.

“We don’t have time, officer. Can’t you see a crime’s been committed?”

“Move the car, sir.”

The car rocked as he sat in the driver’s seat and he quickly parked in one of the many empty spaces of the mall lot. The cruiser pulled into Dustin’s recently vacated spot and the officer tapped his foot while he waited for him to return.

“So, tell me exactly what happened,” the officer asked, kicking bits of glass aside.

“Some thief stole my first editions. You’ve got to hurry if you’re going to catch them before the convention tomorrow.” His jittery hand propped the door as they walked inside.

“Was anything else taken from the premises?”

“Don’t you understand? An evildoer is out there with my livelihood.”

“Please calm down, sir. What did you say the total value of the stolen items is?”

“No less than twenty thousand.”

The officer set his cap on the counter and chuckled as he shook his head. “For a comic book?”

“For five first edition comic books.” He narrowed his eyes as he took a magazine and swiftly flipped to the back. “They’ve all been graded in mint condition.” His finger directed the officer to several lines of a pricing guide.

“I see. Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

The officer’s eyes darted around the page cluelessly, so Dustin crumpled the magazine in his fist. “Someone who’s smart enough to know I had them graded for the convention. Will you find them or not?” He knew he wasn’t being taken seriously and slapped the magazine on the counter.

“Without any leads on a suspect it’s not very likely. I’ll open a case and give you a call as soon as I know more, Mr. Armstrong.” The officer replaced his cap and shook Dustin’s hand before the chimes rang.

Dustin set the magazine behind the counter and took a broom and dustpan outside with him. The shattered remains clinked on the concrete with each pass of the bristles. “I’ll never get anywhere relying on traditional policework.” He surveyed the empty parking lot while the final collection of glass fell into the garbage bin. “Looks like it’s up to you to solve this one.”

He shut the closet door and sat behind the counter, reading the convention brochure while he waited for the repair truck to arrive. The muscled figures posing proudly on the pages would never rely on the authorities to vanquish their villains. His eyes studied the bulging muscles beside the list of vendors and special guests.

 “Where would you begin?” he asked, staring intensely at his favorite caped crusader. The chimes rang out and he set the brochure aside.

“You called about the repair?” A man in a backwards cap ran his hand along the doorframe. “This could take a while.”

“Can you fix it by this afternoon?”

“I don’t know about that. Tomorrow, maybe.” He looked around the shop and smirked. “What else have you got to do, anyway? Play with your action figures?”

Dustin rubbed his chin while he stared at the former sanctuary of his kidnapped heroes. Here was another foe trying to keep him down while they desperately needed his help. He clenched his fists and decided he could no longer play the role of sidekick.

“I’ve got a nemesis to defeat.” He stepped out from behind the desk and puffed out his chest. “You must use your skill to fix this door before the day is up.”

“Did you not hear me? I told you tomorrow.”

“I heard you just fine. Now hear me. I’ve been overrun by the deeds of vile miscreants and need to bring justice to the world. There are lives at stake, here. Will you do what’s right and help me overcome this evildoing or won’t you?”

The repairman raised his eyebrows and laughed before he eyed the doorframe again. “Tell you what, pal. For an extra twenty bucks I’ll have it boarded before you close up shop today.”

“You’ve got a deal.” He extended his hand and sealed the alliance with the mighty repair man.

Dustin returned to his chair and used his growing strength to pull a lockbox from the cabinet under the register. Five grading receipts lay above several urgent hospital bills. “The ultimate weapon to take down my foe.” He folded the receipts and stuffed the wad in his pocket before he replaced the lockbox.

The colorful writing on the brochure caught Dustin’s attention and he zipped to the back page and dialed the contact number. “Time to see just how smart my rival is.” He tapped his fingers on the counter while he waited for an answer.

“Comic Con planning committee, how can I help you?” a woman asked.

“I’d like to inform you there’s been a crime of Marvellian proportions. Please notify any and all patrons who arrive at the convention to be on the lookout for stolen first editions of a mint grade.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“A despicable fiend broke into my store and stole my precious merchandise. I’m certain they’ll plan to sell it at your massive gathering tomorrow. Alert any and all traders of the potential malfeasance.”

“Someone stole comics from you and plans to sell them at the convention tomorrow?”

“Indeed.”

“Have you notified the police?”

“Yes, I’m afraid the authorities won’t be capable of taking down such a villain. It’ll be up to the justice seekers and truth tellers of Comic Con to defeat my enemy.”

She sighed loudly. “I’ll send a notice to our vendors and if anything comes up you need to stop by the customer service booth tomorrow, okay?”

“Thank you for your swift action. I bid you good day.” He hung up and turned toward the empty shelf. “I’ll save you, my friends.” The receipts in his pocket crunched as he patted his leg. “Justice will be had.”

Dustin awoke early the next morning invigorated by his triumphs of the day before. He quickly ate breakfast, dressed and started his drive to the convention center.

“Evil has no chance of prevailing today,” he said, flipping down the sun vizor. His eyes widened when he saw the parking lot full of cars despite his heroic effort to arrive early. Eventually he found a spot on the far side of the lot and held his hand over his forehead as he walked to the entrance.

A woman sat behind the registration table and smiled as he approached. “Good Morning, sir. What a lovely outfit you’ve got on.”

He held up a firm hand and turned his head. “I’m afraid there’s no time for small pleasantries. My name is Dustin Armstrong and I plan to find justice at this noble gathering. Now if you could hand me my items of designation I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh yes, here you are.” She handed him a name badge and pamphlet. “Enjoy the event.”

In the main hall thousands of people walked by the various booths and displays, taking delight and pointing excitedly at the colorful characters. Unfortunately, there was no time for such petty distractions given the gravity of the offense at hand.

Dustin searched carefully as he familiarized himself with the surroundings, using his sharp vision to scan the underarms and bags of potential culprits. After multiple passes through the auditorium he decided to confer with his allies at the customer service booth. “Perhaps they’ve spotted him.” He deftly squeezed through an aisle and puffed out his chest as he neared the table.

A young man seated behind the table looked at Dustin tiredly. “Can I help you?”

“I reported a potential illicit sale of mint-graded first edition comics yesterday.”

The young man sighed as he raised a clipboard and flipped through several pages. “Name?”

“Dustin Armstrong.”

“Nothing yet.” He set the clipboard in front of him. “Next.”

“Have there been any updates from my fellow justice seekers?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please step aside.” He waved him aside. “Next.”

“You can’t.” He stumbled to the side as several tall men stepped to the table. “How could they not have an update?”

Dustin rubbed his chin as he walked through the crowd, searching frantically for a sign of his stolen friends. He slumped in a corner as he gathered himself and caught his breath. “Could there really be no justice, today?” He loosened his cape and took off his mask as his body slid to the floor.

“I’m sorry, my friends.” His hands shook as he gripped the mask and stared into the empty holes. “Looks like I’ve let you down and we won’t be able to save her.” He lowered his head and set the mask beside him.

A pair of men laughed as they found space to stand next to Dustin’s slumped body. “The idiot had five first editions you could see from the window. The store didn’t even have an alarm. Can you believe it?”

Dustin raised his head to see their chiseled frames. They wore jeans and tight black and blue shirts. Underneath the large bicep of the black shirted man rested the first editions. He cautiously put his mask on. “Just when you thought it was darkest.”

“It’ll be the easiest score I’ve had yet. Let’s head to the booth. You remember your lines, right?” The men laughed as they walked away.

Dustin felt a surge of superhuman strength rush through him as he jumped up and raced to follow them. His footsteps were agile as he darted through the crowd, his eyes locked on his nemesis as they approached the booth and got in line. He felt his hands tremble as he stood behind them and waited for the precise moment to strike.

“Yes, I’ve got five first editions I’d like to sell” the man in the black shirt said, setting the plastic-coated comics on the table.

“Stop right there.” Dustin extended his arm and pointed a stiff finger at his comics. “These two men are criminals.” Several people turned their heads and stepped back.

“That’s funny, little man. I can assure you these are mine. Now scram.”

“Yeah, I was with him when sent them out to get graded,” his friend said, adjusting his blue shirt when he noticed the growing circle of onlookers.

“You should leave before something bad happens to you.” The mans’ black shirt tightened around his muscles.

Dustin hesitated as he viewed the curious faces staring at him, lowering his head and frowning at the sight of his large gut. Sure, he dressed the part, but could he really overcome these two men and save everyone?

He slowly raised his eyes to meet the cold gaze of his enemy as sweat filled his undershirt. If he didn’t find the strength to defeat them now all hope would be lost. He stared deeply and noticed his foe’s eye twitch. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

“I said leave, damnit!”

The room grew silent as the large crowd waited for the next move. Dustin noticed several other masked faces nodding encouragingly as he scanned the interior circle. He cleared his throat as he reached in his pocket and held out the receipts in his clenched fist.

“It’s time for the hammer of justice to strike you down. I’m afraid you’re out of your league on this one.”

Several security guards pushed through the mass of onlookers and stood between them. “What’s going on here?” the leader asked.

Dustin puffed out his chest and approached the guard. “These men stole my first editions. I’ve got the receipts here to prove it.” He motioned to the stack on the table and handed him the papers.

“Is this true?” the guard asked, looking at the two men.

Realizing they were grossly outnumbered and with nowhere to run, they slowly nodded and lowered their heads in shame.

“Take them to the back for questioning” the guard said, directing the others as they led the men out. “I believe these belong to you.” He handed the stack of comics and receipts to Dustin as the crowd roared in delight.

Many of the onlookers offered their congratulations and patted Dustin on the back. The sight of someone so physically outmatched overcoming his enemies filled the room with hope. Dustin relished every second of being the superhero, holding his puffed chest and graciously acknowledging each person he interacted with.

After the crowd dispersed, a man walked out from the booth and shook Dustin’s hand. “That was some display of courage. Congratulations on getting your comics back.” He put his hands on his hips. “What are you going to do now?”

Dustin steadied his breathing and thought back to the previous day when he opened the lockbox. He walked to the table and placed the comics in front of him. “I’d like to sell them. I’ll accept no less than twenty thousand.”

The man raised his eyebrows and stared wide-eyed as he slowly returned to his chair. “But you fought so hard to get them back. Are you sure?”

Dustin puffed out his chest a final time. “My comic books weren’t all I needed to save. These are going to pay for my wife’s operation.”