Moral dilemma at Car boot sale

What would you have done? I’d rummaged through the cardboard box and spotted some older comics at the bottom. Then I saw it, the holy grail of comics: Fantastic Four number one! I had to contain my excitement. I was aware of this snotty kid trying to muscle in. I had to act fast – but I also had to play it cool.

I placed the Fantastic Four number one in the middle of a bunch of comics. The snotty kid was observing me suspiciously – or so I thought.

“How much?” I said waving the comics in my hand at the kid on the stall. He looked them over appraisingly, then glanced at the man beside him, who had just taken payment for a paperback.

“Dad?” His Dad eyed the comics in my hand. They must have been his originally, not the kids. I tried to appear casual, disinterested.

“Ah, that’s classic stuff there . . . “He reached for the comics, took them from me, started to flick through them. I thought I was undone, if he spotted that number one . . .

“That’s seven comics – call it ten pound?” Phew - He’d just been counting!

“Ten pound?” I had a fiver ready, thinking that I might even get some change. Ten pound seemed a bit expensive for a car boot sale. I had a strong urge to haggle but then I thought of the Fantastic Four number one. If only he knew.

“Okay” I said.

“Wanna bag?”

“Yeah thanks” and that was it, he handed the comics over in a polly-bag. I couldn't believe my luck. I felt like doing cartwheels!

That historic number one issue, which looked to be in good condition, was probably worth a couple of hundred pounds. Okay I admit that I felt a bit guilty but what would you have done in my place?  

I wondered around another couple of stalls, just going through the motions. My mind was on my find, my bargain of a life time! I manage to hold off looking at my new acquisitions until I was safely back at the carpark.  Sitting in my car I pulled the seven comics out of the polly-bag. There were some interesting issues there. An early Spiderman, an Avengers, a Daredevil and an Iron fist with Luke Cage, One of those team ups. All Marvel stuff but not worth much. And then there was the Fantastic Four number one. It was the only comic in a plastic sleeve. Even before I pulled it out I had a sinking sense that something was wrong. I think it was the colour and then the paper itself wasn't right, it was too light.

The cover was a colour photocopy! And inside were blank pages! I could hardly take it in. Then I saw a post it note on the first inside page. It read: Please ask to see original.

Ask to see original!  I couldn't believe it – I’d been had! Or wait a minute, had I? I couldn't be quite sure. I had a lingering doubt, maybe it was my own fault. I should have been honest with the kid’s dad. I’d experienced a whole gamut of emotions: First there was elation, tinged with guilt, then a spiralling depression which lead to a final reaction – I was mad! I was seething!

But what was I to do? Should I rush back to the stall? And then what? I suppose I could play it down. That would probably be best. Say I’d only just noticed the photocopy and the post it note, which was true enough.

I rushed back in the direction of the stall. People were passing me as they were leaving and heading for the car park. Some of the stall holders were starting to pack up. A car was starting to leave from the stall where I got the comics. I saw the Dad and the kid in the front seats and I had an insane urge to rush at the car and beat on the window. Sanity prevailed as I looked around dejectedly. I was too late.

I recognised the snotty kid as he walked past me. He was carrying a pile of comics in a cardboard box and trying to catch up with his parents, who were striding in the direction of the car park.

“Dad!” shouted the snotty kid.

“Come on, keep up Brian!” His Dad didn’t even turn his head.

The snotty kid dropped the box and fell on his knees.

“But Dad, the man gave me a box of comics for free!” The dad might have grunted.

I could see that the box contained the same assortment of comics that I’d rummaged through earlier. I was about to walk on when I noticed the corner of one comic in a plastic sleeve. It couldn’t be! But the colours looked right. It just might be . . .

The snotty kid was eyeing me morosely.

“Need a hand with the box?”  I said. The snotty kid nodded and smiled. What would you have done?