TIMING: Recent, when the first skyquakes started happening
LOCATION: Escape Your Fate Comics
PARTIES: Regan and Sam
SUMMARY: “Boom!” is not just a noise in a comic special effects bubble. Sam helps Regan with a weird purchase and they’re interrupted by the most wonderful sound. Or worst. Depends who you ask.
“But that’s an easy request to fulfill, because most of the comics in here include firm, muscular bodies.”
Escape Your Fate Comics. The name was an insult, a mockery, and Cliodhna would have razed the place to the ground with one scream. No one could escape their fate, and Regan knew that better than anyone. But this place was apparently the best comic store in town – she had polled an audience – and she was here on a mission. Elias called the relationship the two of them shared a friendship. Regan could not, would not, but she thought she should try to be better to him anyway, in what little capacity she could. The worm incident still lived in the back of her mind, squirming there, and the clock on her departure was ticking away. She’d get him something that suited his interests.
Business seemed to have wound down for the day, since she was the only one there. Or maybe there was never anyone here. But nerds were all over the place these days; she doubted that. Even Rickers said he frequented this store so he could buy comics for his grandchildren. Regan habitually scanned the floor for little white beard hairs, and her whole body unclenched when she spotted none. That was the only relief to be found in looking around, though – the entire store was lined with colorful covers of buff men and women, and Regan was immediately overwhelmed with analysis paralysis. Was there a wrong one? What if Elias already had the one she selected? Were some higher quality than others? Did he have a burning hatred for any of the books she was staring at? No, it was too much. She needed to ask for assistance.
The woman behind the counter was giving her kind of a strange look, actually. Was it that obvious she was out of her element here? “Um, hello.” Regan approached, trying to sound casual and not at all panicked about the thought of making a choice. “I am here to find something for an acquaintance of mine. He likes Lord of the Rings, talking to and meeting people, pizza, emotions, and oh – and probably hates worms.”
Today had been an early day for Sam. The bathroom had needed a little bit of maintenance, and since her dad wasn’t going to be able to come over and help her (normally something she would have begged Zach to help with), she decided to tackle the chore by herself. Clearly, hiring someone would have been easier, but how hard was it to fix something on a sink?
“Oh fuck! Are you serious?” Apparently a lot harder than she had thought. As her voice rang out through the empty store, Sam left the bathroom covered in water as Scout looked up at her curiously wagging his tail, “Looks like people are just going to have to go next door today, if they need to use the bathroom, Scout.” As she glanced at the time on the vintage X-Men clock hanging on the wall, another choice word slipped out of her mouth. Soaking wet and with fifteen minutes to spare, Sam raced back upstairs, Scout on her heels, and quickly changed clothes, before running back downstairs to unlock the door.
Luckily for her, it was one of her slower days and as she managed to catch her breath, Sam busied herself with some smaller tasks behind the counter, until she heard the bell over the door ring. Her first customer of the day, and one who totally seemed out of their element. It was something Sam was used to, but as she looked on, she could tell the woman had no idea what she was looking for, “Hey there.” As she got up from the stool she was sitting on, she made her way around the counter, “That’s oddly specific, but I can work with that. So we will definitely stay away from Earthworm Jim comics, if worms aren’t his thing. But Lord of the Rings I can definitely work with.” She walked over to where Finnian and the Seven Mountains was tucked away behind a few other books. Pulling out the first issue, Sam held it up, “Unfortunately, if you were looking for Lord of The Rings, the only option would be The Hobbit graphic novel, which I don’t keep in stock at the store. I would have to order it for you. Finnian and the Seven Mountains is inspired by the Lord of the Rings though, so that might be something he’d enjoy?”
Regan decided that she liked this young woman – the way she seemed industrious, and ready for questions at any moment; a model employee and a model human. Unfortunately, people had a habit of disappointing her (her standards were not too high). “Do people come in with less specific questions? That must make your job harder. I’ll be as specific as possible.” She was good at that. Regan eyed “Sam” from the nametag and trailed behind her, watching as she intently pulled from a couple of stacks.
Asking had obviously been the right choice. Regan carefully eyed the cover. She didn’t know anything about this Finnian fellow, but there were a couple of characters that looked vaguely like colonial women, so this was on the right track. Elias might like it. She nodded. “Yes! This is adequate. Perhaps even good. I’ll purchase it. Can I have the hobbits as well? What else do you have?” She looked to the right and to the left. There were so many comics. She pulled a few at random, studied them, and before she knew it there was a stack in her arms. Regan explained, “he likes firm, muscular bodies. Live ones. Can you please give me all of your comics featuring characters with such a habitus? Not for free, of course. I’ll pay for them.” How much could they cost, anyway? Did it matter? There was no need for money where she was going.
Sam was surprised at how fast the woman had agreed on her suggestions, but she wasn’t complaining, “Honestly, I get all kinds of questions. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mention that their friends like firm, muscular bodies that are alive, but there’s a first time for everything. She watched as the person’s arms filled up with comic books, “But that’s an easy request to fulfill, because most of the comics in here include firm, muscular bodies.” She motioned around the store. Most of the covers had buff men and women featured on the front of them. And if they weren’t on the front, it was almost guaranteed that you could find them inside the actual comic.
“Do you want me to take those for you?” She looked at the pile again, in Regan’s arms, “I can put them on the counter while you look. And I’ll go ahead and place the order for The Hobbits. It may take a couple of days to come in. Is that okay?” She waited for a reply. She wanted her customers to feel as comfortable as possible. Sam took pride in customer service and people having a pleasant experience at her shop. After all, it was her customers that kept the lights on, gave her a place to live, and kept food in her and Scout’s stomachs. “And if you have any more oddly specific questions you are more than welcome to ask.”
How pleasant it was to hear that there was no shortage of firm, muscular bodies on display. Regan gave a satisfied nod and dropped her growing stack into the woman’s arms. “Yes, please. I will need my hands free.” She would need to make multiple trips. Why didn’t this place have carriages like at the grocery store? The couple of others she could see buzzing around the aisles weren’t exactly filling their arms as much as Regan, but maybe that was because they felt limited. “You can have the hobbits sent here, that’s fine. I will come back.” A few days was an acceptable turnaround time; she had at least a few weeks left in town.
Turning left and right, she pulled numerous other comics into her arms and approached the register, dropping the second stack by the first. There. “I assume he won’t be able to read all of these immediately. They will keep him busy. He is very lonely.” Something sank inside of her at the thought – and the realization that chased it, that her absence would feed his isolation. But sometimes things needed to get worse before they could get better. Like a cold. And Regan was nothing if not an infection. “I always have oddly specific questions. I will give you another. Do you have any, um… entertainment here? Aside from the comics. Things adult humans may use to entertain themselves.” Wait. “Oh, not sexually.” No… “Well, not specifically.”
Sam understood the assignment and with the armful of comics she returned to the counter. But first thing was first, put in an order for The Hobbits. As she began typing in the information, she couldn’t help, but look up at the extremely pale woman. It wasn’t until she really stopped to think about it, that this woman wasn’t just pale for no reason. With the darkness of her eyes and deathly look to her, she had to be something other than just a human. Unless she had decided to cosplay as Gwen Dylan/Olivia Moore from iZombie, because she did resemble Rose McIver eerily like a lot. She had ways of getting an answer without being too suspicious. It was a comic book shop after all and people did wear costumes into the store at times.
As she watched her newest customer return to the counter with even more merchandise in her arms, Sam smiled, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate all the comics you’re buying him. It’s very thoughtful.” Stacking the second pile onto the first, Sam began scanning them one-by-one. Tonight, she was going to treat herself and Scout to a nice dinner. Thank you random lady with the weird questions.
The smile remained poised on her face, and she continued to ring up the books, until the woman had skirted around the idea of adult entertainment. Pausing for a minute and blinking a few times, Sam grew quiet, before she resumed scanning again, “Uh, no. I don’t carry that stuff here, but you may want to check down the road at Pandora’s Boxxx. They might have more of what you’re looking for…” Sam had scanned the last book, before hitting enter for the grand total and locking eyes with her customer, “Including your two stacks and The Hobbits, your total comes to $213.84. Oh, and I love your Liv Moore/Gwen Dylan cosplay by the way. You’ve really got that pale and dead look going on. I think I actually have iZombie in stock if that’s something you’d be interested in too.”
“You think I look dead?” Regan glanced at Sam, genuinely touched, “that’s very kind of you to say. It almost makes up for the name of your store. Almost.” She shivered again at the insult, both wishing she was more like her grandmother and grateful that she was not. “So, what stage of decomposition do you think I resemble? You can continue to compliment me. Oh, I’m not, uh, in need of anything. I’m only here for a – that person I have been referencing.” Elias had tried to open her up to the world of fiction and fantasy, but it all still felt like favoring hollow escapism over reality. “Here you go,” Regan said, handing Sam her card. “This Pandora’s Boxxx place is somewhere you would recommend?” Even having lived here for a year, Regan was still discovering new places… something that would come to an end very soon. It was strange, though, the way Sam was looking at her. It didn’t seem so much like admiration as it did confusion. It was a look Regan was familiar with.
As Sam finished scanning everything, Regan’s gaze flitted around the store once more. She had grown acclimated to the colorful displays and bold covers, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Just as Sam seemed to finish, something seemed to shake the sky. It was like a jet engine flying overhead, or like a crash of lightning right inside the store. Nothing actually moved, but the sound shook Regan enough that she also screeched. And at once, every light in Escape Your Fate exploded, glass cases housing merchandise cracked and fell, and a couple of the windows popped right out of their frames. Whatever that sound was… its power filled her with awe, admiration, and jealousy. Was it Siobhan? It had to be, right? Regan barely compared. But the store, and Sam, would probably beg to differ. Regan’s mouth dropped open, her eyes huge and apologetic, as if a sorry would begin to cover this. Maybe she could get away with it on account of the timing. “That was… that sure was incred– I mean, loud. Loud. Wasn’t it? Um, are you…” She grimaced, studying Sam in the dark, “do you need… help?” Surveying the sea of glass on the floor, on the counter, and sprinkled through Sam’s hair, the question felt utterly useless.
Well that was a first. She had never heard anyone take looking dead as a compliment, but if that’s what they were going for, more power to them. However, she couldn’t help, but narrow her eyes at the comment about the name of her store. Sam, instead, shrugged it off, which was easy to do when the woman returned the question about what stage of decomposition she was in, “Uh…” She glanced down at the credit card that was handed to her, “well, Regan, I’d say…the dead one?” Sam didn’t know decomposition stages. She knew alive and dead and that was it. “As for Pandora’s Boxxx, I think it’s the only store like that in town? I’m sorry, but I don’t actively go seeking out sex shops. Maybe try Google?” How had the discussion of hobbits gone to sex toys? She was so confused, but the whole interaction seemed to carry one of confusion, all while Sam continued to finish up the transaction. This Regan person was an odd one, but she was making a hefty purchase, and Sam could handle a bit of strangeness. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?
As soon as she thought it, Sam suddenly heard the boom followed by Scout barking upstairs and then…All at once a loud shrill sound caused everything to shatter. Not realizing it, Sam’s mouth had dropped open. All the glass, which was a lot, lay scattered around them while the pair stood in darkness, except for the light coming in from where the front windows used to be and the dimness of the computer screen. She had no words. She couldn’t explain what had happened. The booms had caused the store to rumble and shake, but never the glass to shatter.
Sam blinked a few times, before looking around at her livelihood which sat in ruin; anything with glass shattered and scattered around the room. “I…” Closing her mouth and looking down, Sam almost wanted to cry, but still stood in complete shock. Had it been Regan who made the shrill noise? Surely it hadn’t right? She couldn’t figure it out. “Um, just…” Sam looked at the stack of bagged books on the counter. Luckily the card had gone through just in time, and the receipts had printed out. “If you’ll sign this please,” she pushed the receipt forward, over shattered bits of glass, along with a pen, “and maybe just…leave. Pandora’s Boxxx is to the right and a few doors down.” Grabbing the other receipt, she stuffed it in one of the bags.
Oh, this was bad. Sam, as it turned out, did not appreciate having her store in 50,000 pieces (an optimistic estimate). Cnámha uaigneach, it probably was her store, too, and not one of many in some comic book chain business. But with a name like Escape Your Fate, wasn’t it only a matter of time…? Regan wanted to melt into the now-jagged carpet. She had known children to have better command of their faculties – Tina and Max would have never fumbled so maladroitly. And when Siobhan heard about this, because she would, there would be no end to it. “Withering, whimpering thing,” Regan cursed under her breath, burning with self-loathing.
Regan knew when it was best not to argue (unless her opponent was to be Al; they had often bickered well past midnight, hadn’t they?), and shame made her curl away from the counter. Had her control really become so flimsy she’d accidentally barked a store to its destruction? Regan had never signed her name so quickly. Why was Sam recommending a – actually – “do you think they carry, um–” No. Bad idea. Bad time. No. Regan grimaced, nervously baring her teeth. “I’ll go. You’re right. I should, uh, leave you to it. To cleaning. There is so much cleaning to be done. Good, um… cleaning. But just in case, I have, uh…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card, lying it flat on the counter in the middle of all of the glass. In the year she’d been here, she’d grown faithful to her glass repair company. The best thing she could offer Sam right now though, after blowing up her store, was probably keeping her trap shut and staying silent. So Regan gave her a polite nod and grabbed her bag, flinching at every bit of crunching glass underneath her boots like they were blades to her palms.
