Clash of the Comics

Every day I stare out of that window. Every single day.

And every day he is there, staring back at me. Across the busy street, from his window.

Of course, the street always seems busier on his side. At least, that is what he would have me believe. His shop is always busier than mine. That’s what he always claims.

To be honest, I am starting to believe him, why else would I be here, on the checkout counter, doing my tax return. I haven’t seen a customer in nearly forty minutes. My shop is as empty as my bank account. But I have faith, while he is busy burning through his inheritance, pretending to play shop, I just need to keep going and not let him bother me.

Finally, the door! It is a sound that brings both joy and fear. On the one hand, it could be a rare customer, on the other, more likely hand, it is a supplier wanting their money. Money that I don’t have.

It was neither, just Jenny, starting her shift. She entered with her usual whirlwind of chaos. Today she walked with a limp as one of her heals was broken. She wore tatty jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with Pac-Man. Her short, blonde hair was now green in places and her glasses were missing. She ran to the back of the shop holding her hands up, requesting that all questions were saved until after her toilet stop.

I stared out of the window again. How does he do it? There were at least five different groups of customers inside, each, keen to buy something. It wasn’t fair! My shop was here first! We had a much bigger selection and our prices were better, how was he putting me out of business. Sure, he had a fancy business degree, but I knew he didn’t know anything about comic books!

“He’s gone and done it again!” Jenny said as she returned from the storeroom, now wearing more comfortable shoes, her broken heal long gone. “He’s put an advert in the paper.”

She slammed the local paper down in front of me, his face staring back at me with that grin that keeps me up at night.

“One-dollar comic book trade-in.” I read it aloud. “He is giving a dollar for any comic book trade-in?”

“Yeah, and there is no limit.” Jenny pointed out in the small print.

“He’ll go bust!” I exclaimed.

“Not before we do!” She laughed. “We should sell him our comics. We’ll make more money!”

“I just don’t understand. How can he even afford to run an advert? We can’t.”

I went back to the window and saw the couple leaving. They had a brown paper bag that contained at least three comics. How was he so successful? Then an idea hit me.

“Jenny!” I shouted as I whirled around. She was stood right behind me and I nearly crashed into her. “Get all the bargain bin comics, you know, the ones we can’t even give away. Take them over to him and use them to buy his copy of ‘Stringman, Episode Two.”

“He’ll never go for that.” She argued. “That comic is worth at least a hundred dollars. He won’t trade it for our trash.”

“Take this advert with you and he’ll have too. You said it yourself, there is no maximum.”

“Fine.”

I watched as she struggled across the street with a hundred comic books in her arms. Jenny had worked for me for years, she worked hard, she knew comics inside and out and she was irreplaceable. I had to turn this store around, there was no way I could bring myself to sack her, although I was already on borrowed time.

I watched through the window. There was a bit of confusion and I could my nemesis face drop as he realised what was happening. We had used his advert against him. His face was priceless. I must admit I enjoyed watching him squirm in front of the queue of people as he handed over his precious comic book. Jenny left with a smile on her face.

“Here you go!” She said as she placed the colourful magazine on my counter. “Although he wasn’t happy.”

“I bet he wasn’t,” I said as I put the comic book in the centre of my window display, showing it off for the world to see.

“He asked me if I knew how much it was worth!”

“I hope you set him straight!”

“I did, I told him that with the curled edges and faded ink it wasn’t worth what he was trying to sell it for. Besides, there aren’t many collectors of Stringman around here, Stringman was more popular on the east coast.”

“He thinks he can pretend to know comics! You just can’t buy knowledge and experience like ours.”

“He offered me a job. At twice the pay.”

I felt my heart stop for a moment. Jenny couldn’t leave, but I couldn’t afford to keep paying her either. We both knew it, my tax return was right there, for everyone to see. Of course, she wouldn’t take the job, she was too loyal. But she had too.

“Jenny, your fired!” I said softly.

“What?”

“You’re fired. This is the third time this month you have turned up for work wearing the wrong shoes. I cannot keep paying someone who doesn’t take our dress code seriously.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Nope, and that green streak in your hair, clearly you don’t like to follow rules.”

“Of course, I don’t follow rules, that’s why you hired me all them years ago!”

“I will write you a good reference and I am sure you can find a good job somewhere else.”

I looked at her and she realised. Her eyes started to fill. Seven years, it had been a long time, through the good times and, well, I wasn’t sure if we could make it through these bad times.

I just wish she wasn’t joining him!