“Mom, can we take Dad’s car?”

Mom eyed Dad’s gray ‘81 AMC Eagle, then sighed. “No. We’ll take mine.”

I don’t know why we kept his car. She never drove it, but didn’t want to get rid of it. So it just sat there. I missed riding in it with Dad. Sometimes, when Mom wasn’t around, I’d sneak into the garage and sit in the car so I could catch a whiff of him. The car smelled like cigars, handlebar mustaches, and Led Zeppelin. It was Dad through and through. I also wasn’t allowed to get the Led out anymore. It wasn’t a spoken rule, but I never pushed it with Mom. Besides, Ted Nugent rocked just fine.

We headed to the thrift store in silence. I sank in my chair until my eyes were level with the bottom of the window and watched the green leaf trees zoom by. They’d be orange soon. Summer would end before I knew it. But I doubt it felt like that for Curtis. His summer must be dragging on forever. What torture it would be to sit at home all day while all my friends rode bikes everywhere, getting into trouble without me.

“Don't slouch like that,” said Mom.

I shifted but managed to slip further down the chair.

***

The thrift store hit me in the face with that smell, like old clothes, grandparents, and crappy furniture. As soon as I was through the door, I ditched Mom and zipped over to the back corner of the store. Cardboard boxes waited on a metro rack to be sorted through. A treasure trove of vibrant comics awaited me. My fingers crawled over the tops of the thin comics, portals to other worlds.

Mom’s objections echoed in my head. Too many stacks of unread comics littered the floor of my room. That was true. I appreciated the art, but sometimes got bored with the stories. Whatever. I’d found a loophole to get more. I could buy them for Curtis, read them at his house and Mom was none-the-wiser. Then I looked like a saint instead of a greedy hoarder.

The comics moved fast here. I learned the hard way, if you saw something that itched you, even a little, you bought it. Otherwise it up and left forever with some other snot-nose kid. So when I stumbled on some John Carter, Warlord of Mars issues, I knew I hit gold. I pulled out five, eleven, seventeen issues. I didn’t hit gold. I hit the motherload. One of the covers displayed Carter confronting a large alien woman atop a throne. The caption mentioned the goddess, Issus. Cool. Curtis loved Egyptian mythology. I did not know much about Carter comics, I just knew when you found them, you didn’t pass them up.

It took some convincing, but Mom was a sucker for Curtis, especially since I was his only consistent visitor.

***

Curtis’ eyes almost popped out of his head. “You got all these at the thrift store?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I grinned. “Yep. I knew you liked Warlord of Mars a lot. You don’t already have those issues?”

“None of ‘em. Thanks so much.”

“Any time pal.”

I lay on my stomach, over the edge of his bed, and flipped through the pages. “I knew I found something you’d love when I saw the goddess Isis on the cover.”

“You mean Issus. Rhymes with...virus.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Isis is the Egyptian mother goddess of magic and wisdom.”

“Yeah.”

“Issus is the dictator goddess of Barsoom. Totally different.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever dude. Just be happy I got these for you.”

We thumbed through the comics for the next few hours until our brains could no longer handle the excess of swashbuckling interplanetary adventure.

“If you got sucked up to Mars, you think you could take on a Banth?”

Curtis’ eyes glazed over as he stared out the window. “Those crazy lionesque things?” He chuckled. “Naw. I’d get eaten alive.”

“Not me,” I grinned. I stood tall and sprang from the bed, wielding an imaginary sword. “With Carter’s strength, I’d slash it in half.”

“But you’re just a kid. You’d only have enhanced kid-strength. Not enhanced man-strength.”

I plopped back down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah...but I’d have courage too.”

“Courage is stupid.” Curtis wrapped his knuckles against the cast encasing his leg. “Wish I could still ride. I want to get out of here so bad.”

“How much longer do you have to wear that thing?”

Curtis exhaled a long sigh. “At least three more weeks. Doctor’s orders.”

“I wish you could ride too.” I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not as fun without you.”

“Awe, shucks.”

“Can you go to the movies?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Gotta keep this propped up since I can’t bend my knee.”

“What about the drive-in?”

“I can. Just not tonight. My parents are going out.”

“Bummer.”

“You going tonight?”

I did not want Curtis to feel any worse. But I could not lie to my best friend. “Yeah…”

“With who?”

“Reynard. Todd. Larry. Just the guys.”

“You’re going with those dipsticks?”

“Reynard’s having a sleepover.”

“You’re sleeping over at Rey-the-nerd’s house?” He glared at me like I’d betrayed our friendship.

“He invited me. And you’re stuck here. No offense. I don’t have anyone else to hang out with.”

“You don’t have anyone else to hang out with? What about me? And now you’re going to a sleepover with the jerkwad who made me break my leg?”

“He didn’t make you break your leg. You decided to jump the gully yourself.”

“Yeah, after you crashed and I stood up for you because Reynard made fun of your…”

He stopped before he said it. But I knew he almost mentioned my dad.

“It’s just one stupid sleepover. It’s not like I’m best friends with the guy.”

Curtis tossed the Carter comics on the carpet. “Whatever dude. You shouldn’t go. They’re just using you. They’ll probably just make jokes about you all night.”

I was going to go no matter how Curtis felt. But no need to salt his wound. “It’s getting late. I better get home for dinner.”

Curtis folded his arms and grunted. “Thanks for the comics.”