Mason's Run

by Mellanie Rourke

  “This was such a bad idea,” I mumbled, as I slid bagged and boarded comics into packages for customers. I looked out across the throngs of people in the convention room, my head pounding.

  “You could have told your twinkies no,” A voice came to me out from under the table. Jeri stuck her head around the pile of comic boxes, her short and inexpertly colored teal and purple hair standing on end, face flushed with exertion.

  “You know I couldn’t have, Jer. Not with the shape they’re in.”

  Jeri’s face, always pale, seemed to pale further and turned solemn for a moment.

  “I know, Lee. Really. What I meant was, I can handle this,” she grinned again, gesturing to the crowd of fans in line around our booth.

  “I know your moms were worried about me getting ‘overwhelmed’,” she said, putting little air quotes around the word, and adding the sound of an eye roll to her voice, as only teenagers could do. “But these are my peeps, my tribe, my kind of people.” She pushed the box she was attempting to manhandle out of the way and stood. “I can handle anything these lurkers can throw at me. Your brothers know that.”

  I grinned at her confidence and I wanted nothing more than to take off in search of Mason, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave her. Watching the store a few nights a week was one thing, but managing a regional convention was expecting a lot even from her talents, or so my parents had thought when they’d asked me to cover the con after the accident.

  How much the twins knew, or didn’t, about what was going on was hard to tell, since they were both still on some pretty good painkillers. They had taken Sonny’s pain pump away from him the second day after the accident. The nursing staff said he was having way too much fun with it, and if he was feeling well enough to flirt with anything with a dick, then he could start taking his pain meds from a pill bottle. He’d pouted a bit, but hadn’t really complained. He was getting back to his normal self, though he still had a long road to recovery.

  Hicks was who I was most worried about. The accident had caused a blood clot on his brain. He had no recollection of the day of the accident, and was struggling to form new memories. The doctors were hopeful that his brain would heal itself over time and that he’d overcome the trauma and be able to function normally, but there were no guarantees.

  My moms had recognized how crazy the hospital was driving me and they’d decided it was a better idea to put me to work than to keep wearing a path in the hospital hallway. I couldn’t wave a magic wand and make the twins better, but I could help make sure they didn’t lose their dream business.

  I’d apparently lost myself in thought too long, because Jeri continued. “What I meant was, you could have picked Mason up at the airport. I can handle this,” she said, struggling to push two long boxes of comics out of his way, while also pulling out a box of silver age comics for a customer. The boxes balanced precariously, threatening to spill out onto each other, or the grinning teen.

  “Yeah, right, Supergirl,” I said, “Bill is supposed to have transportation taken care of. I’m sure they’re just… stuck in traffic or something.” I responded reasonably, slipping past Jeri and dragging the two boxes from under the table, setting the comics on the small table that held our phones, cash box, her iPad and our drinks.

  I eyed Bill where he stood to one side of the auditorium, chatting away with some of his cronies. Bill’s store was more of an inspirational bookstore than a general book shop, They sold Bibles and other religious books. I knew we had a lot of churches in the area, but I still didn’t know how he kept his store afloat.

  “Besides, what if Tobi showed up? I need to be here to protect your virtue,” I teased, raising an eyebrow at Jeri. Her face turned pensive.

  “I… I haven’t seen him in a while. He disappeared the day after Mason left,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just hope he’s okay. They… they were threatening to send him to one of those conversion camps. His parents, I mean.”

  I squeezed her shoulder gently.

  “I’m so sorry, Jeri. He’s a tough kid, though, have faith in him,” I said. “I assume you tried to call him, or text?”

  She nodded, brushing a few stray tears away from her face. “Yeah, radio silent.”

  My heart went out to the teenager. I understood what it was like when the person you loved disappeared on you.

  With the accident, everything had been thrown into chaos. The new business couldn’t afford to have the double loss of both the investment in the event and the money they would have brought in by being here, so I was manning one side of the display area and general purchases, while Jeri handled the intense fan discussions and locating more obscure items amongst their memorabilia.

  “Excuse me,” someone said, and I jumped. I’d gotten lost in thought for a moment, and had tuned everything out, but the noise of the crowd came back in a rush.

  “Do you have the Green Lantern figure with the black base? I have the one with the green base already,” said a teenage boy who looked like he’d been hit hard with the puberty stick, his face an inflamed mess.

  “Um, yeah, sorry. Here,” I mumbled, scrambling under the table to find the right figurine box for him, feeling sorry for the kid. I’d been fourteen once, too.

  The boy inspected the box, as if seeking any random flaw that might change the price. “Would you take sixty for it?” the boy asked, pointing to the price tag of eighty dollars.

  “Well, this is a consignment item, so I can’t take sixty, but if you can do seventy, we might have a deal,” I said, then the bargaining began in earnest.

  The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur. Music blared from the speakers next to the stage, and I realized my headache was growing exponentially as the day wore on. I loved taking care of the kids who loved the comics, but some of the adults were just assholes. I also couldn’t help but notice that there were a bunch of people walking up and down the aisles with gray sheets of paper clutched in their hands. They’d seem to stop, look at the name of the business, then look at the flier and turn their nose up and walk away.

  I thought at first it was my imagination, but after the fourth time I’d seen it happen, I mentioned it to Jeri.

  “Yeah, we’re on the ‘Do Not Buy’ list,” she said, sighing.

  “What the fuck is that?” I asked, perhaps a bit too loudly.

  She came over to me and dragged me away from the customers and spoke in hushed tones.

  “I didn’t say anything to you because I figured it would just blow over,” she said, looking around nervously. “Tobi told me about it. His family’s church is rabidly anti-gay. I mean, like crazily so,” she said. “They threatened to send him to one of those camps where they try to ‘pray the gay away’,” she said, shuddering. I didn’t blame her. I’d heard some of the stories about those places.

  “The church published a list, right before the convention with approved and ‘inappropriate’ stores for people to shop at. You see those papers they’re carrying around?” I'd noticed the gray pieces of paper but hadn’t thought much of it. Lots of stores handed out fliers at these events. She pulled a crumpled one out of her pocket.

  “Look,” she said, showing it to me.

  The paper started out okay, stating in large words, “Dear Business Owner: We want to spend our money with you!” but then it continued, “unfortunately, due to the disgusting, sick, and un-Godly acts performed by some of your sponsors, we are choosing not to do so. When you have decided to eject these retailers from your event, we will reconsider spending our money here.” At the bottom there were a list of stores that were a part of the event.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  “I know, right? Hit everyone right where it hurts most, the pocketbook,” she said wryly. “I’ve got a stack of these over here. I’ve been picking them up and throwing them away whenever I can, but there are just too many. The twins don’t need to know about this.”

  “So, this is just against LGBTQ owners?” I asked. She shook h
er head.

  “Nope. Some of the stores they’ve listed are owned by single parents, divorcees and even most of the minority business owners,” she said. “You know, anyone who is not a WASP that believes in the version of god they do.”

  “That makes it a hate crime,” I said.

  She sighed and took a sip of her drink, then said “No real crime. Just ‘choosing where to put their dollars.’ Don’t let it get to you, Lee. This kind of shit happens a lot.”

  “I know,” I said, shaking my head. “But not here. Not in Akron-fucking-Ohio.”

  She sighed, and shrugged. “Well, it does now.”

  A customer called her over and she went to answer their question. My thoughts continued to whirl. For the hundredth time I was grateful I'd turned down the twins offer to be a partner in the business, but the protective crazy alpha male in me wanted to react to any threat to those I loved.

  Just when I thought I was going to die if I didn’t get a minute of peace and quiet, the emcee for the event announced over the PA system that they would be starting the cosplay contest judging in Hall B. Fans turned and started to exit the hall en masse. Finally, a break!

  I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost 1:30 p.m. The main event was supposed to start at 3 p.m., and still no Mason in sight. Surely, he wouldn’t bail on the event because of me… I caught Bill’s eye and tapped my watch. He shrugged and grinned, turning back and laughing with his buddies as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Something was up. There’s no way he would be this calm about a no-show headliner. “You got things here for a minute, Jeri?” I asked, making my way around the tables and boxes. Jeri just nodded and waved, deep in conversation with some kids that looked about her age.

  I made my way through the hall to where Bill stood.

  “Bill!” I said, trying to control the annoyance in my voice, as he continued talking to his buddies. “Bill!” He stopped and turned to me, a greasy smile spreading across his lips.

  “Lee! How’s it going? Great turnout, huh?”

  “Yeah, tons of traffic. Where’s Cameron?”

  “Whaddya mean?” he asked, his face taking on a fake look of confusion. Oh shit, I knew that look.

  “You know what I mean! Where’s Mason?”

  “Aw, Lee!” he said, his face showing obviously-faked surprised. “I emailed your brothers a couple of days ago that he canceled.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “Why is this the first we’ve heard of it?” I knew Mason was upset about something, but to cancel on the event? He wouldn’t have done that.

  Bill’s sleazy smile widened as he spoke, all fake solicitude. “Well, if your brothers kept up on their email, they’d know more about what was happening, wouldn’t they?”

  “You fucker,” I growled. “You know the twins are in the hospital and wouldn’t be checking their email.”

  “Now, now… no need to get all nasty. This is a family-oriented event!” he oozed. “As luck would have it, I have a great replacement for him on his way. His name is John Dowling, and he just so happens to be a police officer and a pastor,” he said smugly as he checked his watch, then continued, “He should be here right before the main event. I think everyone would agree, he’s a much more wholesome choice to speak at the event.”

  “Dowling?” I said, his name finally clicking. “You mean the right-wing asshole that tried to get LGBTQ comics banned from libraries in Cleveland? The one whose church has been publishing this shit?” I demanded, shaking the “Do Not Buy” flier in my hand at the asshole. No, not asshole. Assholes at least served several useful purposes.

  “The filth you sell has no place in our libraries, schools, or stores, for that matter!” the man declared, raising his voice so the people around us could hear him, his southern accent coming on strong. “We need to protect our children at any cost from you and your degenerate lifestyles!”

  “The only thing we need protection from are bigoted homophobes, like you,” I heard Jeri yell from her spot at the booth. Someone in the back cheered, but the crowd quieted around us as people stopped to listen in on the argument.

  I began to see red and stepped toward him menacingly. “You planned all of this, didn’t you? You knew the twins were finally turning the convention around, making it profitable again, and you just couldn’t let them win,” I said angrily.

  “Now, now, Lee. When you’re an experienced businessman, you always have a backup plan,” he smiled at me, “So sorry your brothers didn’t know enough to plan ahead.”

  “You son of a…” I pulled my arm back, ready to land a punch right in his oily nose, when a gangly arm wrapped around my fist and pulled.

  “Lee!” I heard someone yell.

  I turned around, ready to tear into whoever had my arm, only to glare at my only sister, Weaver, pulling desperately on my arm.

  “Weaver! What the hell are you doing here?” I said, the shock and delight of seeing her warring with my desire to punch Conyers. I relaxed my fist and pulled her into a hug. Weaver was on active duty with the Air Force, and last I’d heard she was still at Wright-Paterson trying to get an extended leave.

  Apparently she had come straight from the base, because she was still wearing her fatigues. Her hat was tucked under her arm and she smiled up at me.

  “Ripleeeeeey!” she squealed, before wrapping her arms around me like a giant sloth. “I got the leave approved so I could come check on the boys,” she grinned at me, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. “When I got to the hospital, Mom said Sonny was going nuts over some email they had gotten, and I figured you’d need to know.”

  My sister was 5’5”, and though she was the shortest of all of us, she was a spitfire. She looked over my shoulder at Bill and his buddies.

  “Hey, Weaver,” Bill oozed, his eyes all but undressing her where she stood. “Looking good, chica.” I was going to kill this fucker.

  “Hey, Bill,” Weaver purred, releasing her hold on me and sidling up to him. I froze in shock…What the hell? Weaver never “purred.” And she sure as shit didn’t sidle. Something was up and I was kinda wishing I had some popcorn to watch it go down.

  “You finally taking me up on the offer to show you what a real man feels like?” he grinned, one arm going around her waist, the other sliding down to cup her ass.

  She smiled flirtatiously up at him, then things happened in a blur. I saw her hand slash down across his wrist as she whirled around, her other arm coming up, her palm slamming into the bridge of his nose.

  Bill dropped in a spray of cursing and blood, his hands flying to his face and a cheer went up from the crowd around us.

  Weaver paused for a moment, her chin resting on her finger as she screwed up her nose in concentration.

  “Nope,” she laughed, shaking her hand, “Still no idea what a ‘real’ man feels like.”

  “You bitch!” Conyers yelled, “I’ll have you arrested! You fucking bitch!”

  “Now, now, Billy boy,” Weaver laughed, “Language! This is a ‘family’ event after all…” she said, throwing his words back at him. She must have heard more of the conversation than I’d realized.

  She grinned at me and leaned down to where Bill sat on the floor, trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose.

  “And besides… no cop is going to arrest an itty bitty little girl for putting a perv who grabbed her ass in his place,” she laughed. She stood and linked her arms with mine, pulling me back to the booth.

  “Woot! And I got it all on video!” Jeri yelled from the booth.

  “Thanks, Weave,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “I don’t think I could have done that without ending up in jail tonight, but I really wanted to…” I sighed.

  “I figured as much, especially after I saw the email he sent the boys,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Think I could get away with it a second time?” she raised an eyebrow at me and made as if to turn back to Bill and his buddies.

  “Nuh uh, hotshot,” I said, pulling
her back. “Can’t have you in jail for your whole leave. How’d you manage it, anyway?”

  “I have a friend in the Captain’s office who owed me a favor,” she said. Her face sobered, some of the mischief leaving her face, replaced by little worry lines between her eyebrows.

  “They’ll be okay, sis. It will just take a little time,” I reassured her.

  “Time. Shit!” she yelled, looking at her watch. “You need to go!” she said, thrusting a bunch of papers at me from one of the millions of pockets in her uniform.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused as hell as I looked down at the papers.

  “Whatsisname… Cameron? He’s at the airport waiting for us to pick him up. He texted Sonny asking if someone was coming, or if he should just request an Uber.”

  “What? Bill said he canceled?” I asked.

  “Nah, he was just delayed. He’s waiting on you. I’ll stay here and watch the booth. You can go get him and get him back here in record time. Plus,” she grinned up at me, “I figured you two had some things to work out.”

  “I love you, Weaver,” I said, hugging her close.

  “I love you too, Lee,” she laughed, “Now get going! Faster than a speeding bullet, and all that!”

  I grabbed my phone from the booth, then took off as Jeri and Weaver hugged and chatted like old friends. Which, well, they were.

  Traffic on 76E was a mess, a fuck ton of construction seemed to always be going on downtown. We didn’t have Spring in Akron, we had orange barrel season. If we didn’t have a foot of snow, there were orange barrels everywhere.

  I sat on the expressway getting ready to head south on 77, glancing at the paperwork, which included a printed email from Conyers telling the boys he had heard from Mason’s manager and he was canceling.