Chapter Nine
Ezra
When I stormed back into the shop, Clark was sitting on the counter, reading a sci-fi novel, and our coworker Arthur was sorting through old issues ofStar Trekcomics. They both glanced up expectantly.
“Well?” Clark asked, adjusting his glasses. “What did he say?”
I nodded to some customers and joined my coworkers at the counter. Arthur kept sorting through the comics, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth while he made little hash marks on a sheet of paper. “Did he apologize?”
“He says that he didn’t see anything. I believe him.”
“Did he say it with his sexy, rumbly voice?” Clark asked.
“Yeah,” Arthur teased. “Did he look at you with his dreamy eyes when he lied to you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, he did,” I answered indignantly. The other employees at the shop had been ribbing me for my crush all week. I think it was their way of taking out the stress of having the shop messed with so much. It was easy to tease me, even if it was hard to face the real problem. Anyway, I was used to people thinking I was silly, so I didn’t let it affect me.
At least not that much.
“I gave him fifty more dollars,” I said defiantly. “Maybe he’ll have more luck next week.”
Clark and Arthur both groaned, and Arthur slapped his hand against his forehead. “I can’t believe you gave him more money! He’s probably the one vandalizing the building in the first place! For all you know, he’s going to turn around and buy more paint with that cash!”
“I really don’t think that’s the case,” I said, leaning up against the counter. “There’s just this thing that happens when I look in his eyes…”
Clark placed his hand over mine. “You really don’t know him, Ezra. And Arthur’s right. There are a lot of reasons to be wary of that guy.”
“Yeah,” Arthur added. “Like his place of employment and the way he glares at everyone who walks by the bar.”
I pulled my hand back from Clark, quick to dismiss their concerns. “You both have read enough comics to spot an antihero when you see one. He’s like Wolverine! Or the Punisher. He’s like the sexy Punisher.”
Clark set his novel down, tapping it against the counter. “In the meanwhile, we should at least figure out an alternative plan, instead of waiting for the bouncer at the dive bar to reveal his true colors.”
“I could call Mr. Katz,” Arthur offered. “He said if we actually needed him for anything, we should call.”
“Liza said she would pick up more cleaning supplies before she came in tomorrow,” Clark replied, “but that’s just taking care of the surface problem.”
Arthur tossed anotherStar Trekcomic on the pile, sighing. “What we should do is call the police and tell them we have a lead.”
“But wedon’thave a lead,” I objected.
“Yes, we do! Brick! Brick is our lead!”
Clark jumped into the conversation, knowing that Arthur and I were likely to argue about Brick’s merits and character for the rest of the evening. “The fact is, we don’t really know who might be responsible, and we’re not getting much help from anyone outside the shop, either. Northstar is our responsibility, and it’s up to us to keep the place safe and welcoming. You know how much it means to our customers to have somewhere to gather and meet friends. This place is more than just a store. We might forget that when we have to spend all day stocking shelves and dusting action figures, but we owe it to our customers and to ourselves to take care of this problem.”
I knew that Clark was right. Northstar was more than just a job for us, and it was more than just a place to buy comics for our customers. Gay people were just beginning to get real recognition in the world of comic books, and the shop played an important role in holding communities of fans together and giving people a welcoming space to gather and share their passions.
That’s why the graffiti felt like such an obsession to me. The police might not see it as any more than a nuisance, claiming it wasn’t specific enough to count as anti-gay discrimination, but we knew the truth. It was why my coworkers were getting so impatient, the stress of it wearing on all of us.
Clark was right. It was up to us to find a way to stand up to the bullies who were messing with the space. The problem was, while I had a real knack for getting myself into trouble by shooting off my mouth, I wasn’t quite as skilled at getting myself out of those tight spots. It was typical of me to turn to someone like Brick and to invent a hero who would save me, rather than facing the problem head-on. I still had a feeling in my gut that Brick would help us out—otherwise I wouldn’t have given him another fifty bucks—but I realized that it might be time to start considering other options, too.
I spun around, leaning back against the counter and gazing across the shop. Some of my favorite regulars were huddled in the back, playing a strategy game on a card table, and their laughter sang out across the store.
“I think you’re right, Clark. I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands.”
“Oh god,” Clark groaned. “Now I’ve done it.”
I shot him a glance. “What?”
“Now you’re concocting some other ridiculous scheme, aren’t you? I can tell.”
“Nothing quite so ridiculous. Just maybe a little surveillance operation, if you know what I mean.”
Arthur snorted, returning to his task. “Surveil the shop all you want, Ezra. Just don’t come crying to me when you catch your crush messing up the front of our store.”
I bit my tongue and scattered off to the back room to stew for a while. Every fiber of my being told me that Brick wasn’t the problem, but I had to admit, after everything Irving had told me as well, my faith was a little shaken.
Even if my crush wasn’t.
