Jonathan bit his tongue. He was tempted to offer more, but he couldn’t. As it was, he’d barely make back the money selling the figure, if he made any at all. He needed to eat and pay for the store space.

“We don’t have to,” the wife said.

“We need to,” the husband whispered.

“This isn’t a pawn shop,” Jonathan said. “I’m looking for stock that certain people want. I can’t hold onto things. Be sure you want to give it up if you sell it to me.”

He saw the husband frown, fidgeting more.

“If you give it to me, and if I sell it, I’ll get the contact information from the buyer. Somewhere down the line, if you want, you can talk to me, I can give you that information. Maybe you can track it down and offer them enough to buy it back. That’s the best I can do.”

“Okay,” the husband said. He nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it. For New Dollars, please.”

Jonathan nodded. He moved the articulated doll over to the nearest empty space on a shelf, then walked over to the register, popping it open with the painful metal-on-metal sound he hadn’t quite become used to. He began counting out the money.

“Can you handle this, babe?” the husband asked. “I’m going to run an errand.”

“Sure,” the wife said.

Jonathan glanced up to see the guy walk away.

Nothing was easy.

“Is it hard? Running a store like this? It seemed difficult to run comic or games stores on the old Earth, and things are different now.”

“It’s not the easiest,” Jonathan said. It was an understatement; he had lost twenty pounds since starting the store, because he didn’t eat more than one meal most days, and some days he ate none. “My brother owned a store like it, in the old Earth.”

“Is he helping you?” the wife asked.

“He’s gone. He—I guess he helped, my initial stock included some of the things I was able to get from his store. He didn’t make it past Gold Morning.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“This place helps me feel a little closer to him. I’m contradicting everything I told you guys, but this is what connects me to my loved ones the most.”

“I don’t think that contradicts,” she said. She rested one hand on her stomach. “We’re doing what we can to hold onto those things most important to us. Civilization wins out over madness.”

“I think so,” he said. He passed the money across the counter to her. “Let me give you my number, in case you ever want to track it down. And you can give me your name.”

“An anniversary present for a year or two from now, if we’re lucky,” she said.

He smiled.

“Thank you,” she said. She looked at his nametag. “Jonathan.”