Valhalla’s Vault was part of Vienna Square, the shopping plaza dominated by Wal-mart and the Sunny Dale Outlet Mall, which was on the edge of town. It was a bookstore as well as a hobby and comic shop, and these eclectic niches were one reason it managed to stay in business in a bad economy (although it helped it shared patrons with GameStop next door). The store was immediately identifiable by its sign—a large picture of Marvel Comics’ Thor with the store’s name in large bold letters in a voice bubble above his head—although the numerous colorful posters promoting the latest book releases, role-playing game expansions, and the exploits of various superheroes also helped.

            Calvin arrived in only a few minutes. With the bag in hand, he opened the store’s door, which bore a wreath, and rang two small sleigh bells dangling from the door handle.

            “Hey, Cal! Long time, no see!” called the ever-smiling John the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with speckles of gray in his thick brown hair. He wore a T-shirt bearing the same image as the shop’s sign. He was the other reason the store had stayed in business.

            “Hi, John,” replied Calvin, waving.

            The young man paused for a second to take everything in. This was a “world” he had once lived in. Shelf upon shelf of colorful books, comics, and board games—both new and used—lined the walls. He saw that John had hung an inflatable Spider-Man from the ceiling now. A small Christmas tree with many science fiction, fantasy, and comic themed ornaments sat on the counter next to the cash register. The shop still had its distinctive odor, which as a teen Calvin described to others by saying, “It smells like the eighties,” although he still did not know what he meant by that.

            “What can I do for ya?” asked John. “Are you here to get back into comics? Your Uncle Jeremiah and Aunt Sharon came in this week to buy some gifts for your cousins. Maybe they bought you some, too.”

            Calvin thought he should buy something, but he only had enough money to buy gifts for his sister. Plus, he was on a mission.

            “Not today, I’m afraid,” replied Calvin, walking up to the checkout counter. “I’m actually here to see if you can tell me who bought this.” He put the bag on the counter.

            John opened the bag and whistled when he saw the contents. “This is the Superman cape I won at Comic-Con this summer. I already had one, so I decided to sell it in the shop. I had it on display over there in the corner for five months. It was a little expensive for most people’s tastes.”

            “But obviously someone bought it. The receipt is dated for yesterday.”

            “Are you returning it?”

            “No. I think whoever bought it lost it. I found it on a dumpster in town.”

            “Hmm. Well, I can tell you exactly who bought it because it was one of the rare times I had a woman come into the shop who wasn’t a mom shopping for her kids.”

            “Who?”

            “Jen Werling.”

            Calvin scratched his head. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

            “She’s the girl James Hunter asked out during the Corn Festival by spray-painting her name on the water tower.”

            Calvin nodded. “Her name’s still there, too. I know James. We went to high school together. But I don’t know Jen.”

            “She’s a waitress at Big Round Pizza.”

            “That explains it. I usually go to Pizza Hut.”

            “What’s wrong with you? Support the ma pop shops, man!”

            Calvin pursed his lips. “Anyway, I figure she bought this as a Christmas gift. Did she?”

            “Yep.”

            “For who?”

            “She didn’t say, but I can tell you she was really excited when she bought it. I haven’t seen her that happy in a long time.”

            Calvin sighed. “Then I really need to get this back to her.”

            “You could try seeing if she’s working tonight.”

            Calvin nodded again. “Good idea.” He grabbed the bag’s loops and started walking toward the door. “Thanks for the help.”

            “Hey, Cal!” called John holding his hand out to Calvin, who now had his back against the door. “FYI, my Dad is having his annual anniversary showings of the original ‘Superman’ movie tonight at the Haydn Theatre. You should check out it if you get a chance.”

            “Maybe,” replied Calvin. Then he pushed the door open and slipped out into the cold and gray “real” world.
 

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