Block's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

By ten a.m., Block had a legal pad on the counter and three bad ideas crossed out. The rental slip with WHY THIS STORE sat under the scanner where Block could see it. The plan was still a promise, not a plan. Then the front door chimed, and Shane walked in with a stack of tapes cradled against his chest. Shane was a Tuesday regular. He rented war documentaries and returned them two days early. Today he walked past the return bin and set the tapes on the counter instead. He tapped the top case with one finger. "Heard you're closing," he said. "That true?" Block's stomach dropped. The fax was four days old and already out in the town. Block didn't know who had talked. It didn't matter. If Shane had heard, others had heard. On a normal week, Shane brought his wife in on Friday. So did half the block. Rumor would empty the aisles before Block ever got to pitch anything. Block could lie. Block could say corporate was fine, everything was fine, and Shane would nod and walk out and tell three neighbors the store was safe. It would buy the week. It would also blow up in Block's face on Saturday, when the rumor came back true and Shane never rented here again. Block put both hands flat on the worn blue counter. "Corporate wants me to prove the store's worth keeping," Block said. "I've got until Friday. I'm making my case in person. I'd rather you hear it from me." Then Block did the only thing that felt like a move instead of a defense. Block pulled the previously viewed bin out from the wall and rolled it to the front. Block yanked the tonight-only banner off the new release rack and taped a fresh sign across the bin: FRIDAY NIGHT — MEMBERS PICK THREE FREE. Block turned to Shane. "Tell people that instead." Shane looked at the bin, then at the kids' display by the window with its scuffed cartoon corners. He picked up his returns and dropped them in the slot one at a time. "My wife likes the musicals," he said. "I'll bring her Friday." He pointed at the sign. "You should put that in the paper by tomorrow. People already talking." Then he left, and the bell over the door rang once behind him. Block stood alone at the counter and watched the parking lot through the glass. The rumor was loose. Block couldn't kill it. But Block had just given the town a reason to come in and see for themselves, and a deadline shorter than Friday to advertise it. Block picked up the phone and dialed the local paper before the nerve could fade.