Chapter 14: I Felt the Meaning of What I Do
Chapter 14: I Felt the Meaning of What I Do
“I can’t believe I’m already sixty. When did I get this old?”
The man’s expression stiffened as he looked at himself in the mirror.
It felt like only yesterday that he had been in the brilliant prime of his youth.
Now his stomach protruded, more than half his hair was gone, and deep wrinkles crowded the corners of his eyes.
Is that really me?
Suddenly, the man in the mirror felt unfamiliar.
“Dad! Come out for a second!”
At that moment, his daughter Karen called from the living room.
She had come over for a weekend meal, and she was the only thing in his life he could proudly boast about.
“What is it?”
“There’s something I want to show you. Will you come outside with me for a minute?”
His daughter nudged him forward from behind.
Judging by the way the corners of her lips kept twitching, she had probably prepared some kind of surprise for his birthday a few days from now.
She must have prepared something strange again.
On his last birthday, she had given him a punching bag and told him to exercise more, so it was better not to expect too much.
Creak—
The front door, which had aged just as much as he had, opened with a rough groan.
For a moment, the bright light outside blinded him.
“What in the world is so—”
The man suddenly stopped speaking.
At the same time, his feet froze in place.
He quickly turned around to look at his daughter’s face.
Her lips were pressed tightly together, and it was obvious that she was holding back tears.
“Oh... my God.”
The words rose in his throat, only to stop there.
“That’s a real Police Interceptor...”
The black-and-white paint scheme.
The heavy push bar on the front.
Even the black steel wheels.
The emergency lights were gone and the police markings had been removed, but even from a distance, he could immediately tell that it was an original P71.
It was the kind of car he had driven almost every day for thirty years while rotating through patrol duty, shift work, and night duty.
It would have been stranger if he had failed to recognize it.
“Happy birthday, Dad.”
Karen spoke softly behind him.
Happy birthday?
Then that car was really his?
“My God, Karen. Where on earth did you find this...?”
As though entranced, the man slowly approached the vehicle.
“Go on, get in!”
Excitement dripped from his daughter’s voice.
The man’s trembling fingertips touched the door handle.
Then, as his hand slowly pulled—
Clunk—
A reassuring metallic sound rang out, like an old friend greeting him.
“Whew...”
The man sat inside and took a deep breath.
“Even the smell is exactly the same as back then.”
“Right? I said the exact same thing when I first saw it.”
Yes.
All it needed was the smell of spilled coffee and doughnuts, and it would be perfect...
“Hehehehe...”
A mischievous smile spread across the man’s face.
He rubbed the worn sections of leather on the steering wheel, then said,
“Well then, let’s see.”
He turned the key that had already been inserted into the ignition.
Vroom—
The engine started with a short, solid vibration.
The moment the sound of the engine struck his ears, the man was pulled deep into his old memories.
The day he first entered the police academy.
The oversized uniform and shoes that did not fit properly.
His first patrol assignment.
“10-4.”
(Translator’s Note: 10-4 — A radio code meaning acknowledgement, confirmation, or “message received.” The APCO Ten-Code system began development in 1937 as a way to shorten radio communications when police radio channels were limited.)
“Copy.”
The night he sat stiffly, listening carefully to every sound coming through the radio.
Screeeeech—
The terrifying moment when his patrol car skidded badly on a rain-soaked road while pursuing a suspect vehicle.
The sight of a mother clutching her child and screaming at a crime scene.
The colleagues who had gone before him.
The piles of reports that grew higher with every year of service.
And eventually, the very end.
The morning his name disappeared from the duty roster.
The sunset he had seen from the car after turning in his keys and badge and driving home.
Click—
When he turned the key again and shut off the engine, the vivid scenes that had been moving before his eyes froze once more, like faded photographs.
“This really is the best gift I could ever have received, Karen.”
The man climbed out of the car and wrapped both arms around his daughter and wife.
The youth that had already passed could never be brought back, which only made it more painful and precious.
But now, he had a family this dear to him.
And from now on, at least whenever he went driving with that car, he would be able to enjoy the feelings he had experienced in his prime.
Tomorrow, the first thing I’m doing is taking this thing out for doughnuts and coffee.
The man’s eyes sparkled for the first time in a very long while.
He looks exactly like a child on Christmas morning.
I watched the man restlessly open and close different parts of the car.
This deal had been perfect in every respect.
The profit was good, and there had been no unnecessary trouble whatsoever.
However, to my surprise, the greatest sense of fulfillment I felt from this deal came from somewhere else entirely.
For example, watching a sixty-year-old man turn back into a boy.
Or receiving genuine gratitude from that same man.
“You’re the one who restored this car, right? Truly... thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“I’m the one who should thank you for liking it so much.”
“Like it? I feel as though the moment I sat in this car, I returned to the youngest days of my life. I don’t mean that figuratively. I truly felt that way. Now that I think about it, I’ve received an incredible gift.”
The man clasped my hand firmly between both of his.
“It wasn’t from me. It was from your daughter. You have a wonderful daughter.”
“That is absolutely true. She’s the best daughter a man like me could ever ask for.”
The man looked at his daughter with warm eyes.
It was an unfamiliar sight to me.
“...Well then. Karen, I should get going.”
“Oh? You’re leaving already? My mother was asking whether you’d like to stay and eat with us...”
Karen replied in a friendly voice.
“No, thank you. I really appreciate the offer, but I already had something else in mind for dinner.”
“I see. Thank you so much for giving me the chance to gift my father such a wonderful car. Drive safely.”
“It was a great deal for me as well. Thank you.”
I said goodbye to her mother and father in turn, then climbed back into my truck.
On the highway back to the warehouse, I could see the empty trailer in the side mirror.
The car had cost $2,150.
The parts and auction fees had come to around $400.
Painting had cost $1,450.
My total expenses were approximately $4,000.
Since I sold the car for $9,800, my net profit was $5,800.
Even after accounting for estimated taxes, I would still have more than $4,000 left.
For a little over ten days of work, it was a considerable amount.
And besides—
Karen’s father really did look happy.
I had also realized that this work could bring people unexpected happiness, not just money.
Maybe this is a much better profession than I thought.
People often said that you should love your work, but how many people could actually do that?
Simply reaching the point where commuting to work did not feel like walking through hell was already a major success.
But somehow, by sheer luck, I had the feeling that I was going to like this work more and more.
Of course, finding buyers like Karen won’t be easy.
A father who was genuinely proud of his daughter.
A daughter who was happy because her father was happy.
By now, the three of them were probably sitting around the table together, eating dinner.
As I imagined the scene, something heavy settled in one corner of my heart.
It was a complicated feeling, a mixture of envy and satisfaction.
“Maybe I’ll go have a drink tonight.”
I shook my head to clear away the distracting thoughts, then pressed the accelerator deeper.
I was going to enjoy my own small tradition for celebrating a successful sale.
I had only visited The Rusted Spur Saloon once before, but for some reason, it already felt comfortable, like a bar where I had been a regular for years.
The bartender’s quiet habit of not speaking unnecessarily probably had a lot to do with it.
The problem was that I was not the only one who liked the place.
“Hey, Jason! Fancy seeing you again!”
“Look at that. He’s alone again. That’s our Lonely Jason.”
Jack and Cole, who were always together like thread and needle, spotted me with uncanny accuracy and immediately latched onto me.
Lonely Jason.
That had been something like a nickname they used for me in high school.
It had been a very long time since I heard it.
“Jack. Cole. You two again? You really never get tired of hanging around each other.”
“What kind of nonsense is that? Why would anyone get tired of a friend?”
“Exactly. You wouldn’t understand because you’re always alone, but friendship lasts forever.”
The two large men excitedly shrugged their shoulders.
Ever since we were students, whenever they spotted me, they had never once simply walked past.
It was not as though they had ever actually hurt me or anything, though...
“Whew... I only came here to have a quiet drink by myself. I’d appreciate it if you’d just pretend you didn’t see me.”
“Pretend not to know someone we know? Hah. Jason, you really haven’t changed at all. You’re still acting all high and mighty, like you don’t want to associate with people like us.”
Jack shook his head.
What the hell is he talking about? Acting high and mighty?
Back then, dealing with my family situation alone had already been overwhelming.
I had not even considered making friends.
Naturally, I had not had the emotional energy to indulge their childish jokes either.
Maybe from their perspective, it just looked like I didn’t want to hang out with them.
“Jack, knock it off. Let’s just play darts by ourselves.”
Cole stepped between us and spoke with a tired expression.
But then—
Just as the two of them turned around to leave—
Words came out of my mouth that even I could not believe.
“...Darts? From what I saw last time, you weren’t very good.”
I did not even know why I had said it.
Why would I deliberately break my own peace and call out to them?
“Huh? Would you look at that? What exactly did I just hear?”
Jack turned around with wide eyes.
Apparently, I was not the only one who could not believe it.
“Hah! Right? Looks like Lonely Jason wants to challenge you to a game of darts. Live long enough and you really do see everything.”
Cole’s nostrils flared, somehow making his already ugly face even harder to look at.
“A match sounds fine. You two keep buzzing around so loudly that I can’t enjoy my drink. How about this? If I win, you shut your mouths for the rest of the night.”
Maybe their exaggerated reactions were amusing me, because once I started talking, I could not seem to stop.
“Wow... How am I even supposed to respond to this? Fine. Instead of that, let’s bet drinks. The loser buys three beers and snacks. How about it?”
Jack practically stumbled over his own words in his eagerness.
“Fine. Don’t start making excuses later.”
“Pfft! Hey, Cole, did you hear what Jason just said? Seriously. You’re the one who’d better not start making excuses.”
Jack threatened me as he led the way toward the dartboard.
Instead of answering, I gave a small nod and followed them to one side of the saloon.
A dart duel in a “saloon” filled with the rough atmosphere of Western men.
In the old days, someone would already have been lying dead on the floor.
Thunk—
While I was wasting time on such pointless thoughts, Jack threw the first dart.
Ding, 20!
The game we were playing was 501.
(Translator’s Note: 501 Darts — A standard darts game in which each player begins with 501 points and subtracts the score of each throw. The winner is the first player to reach exactly zero. Formal tournament rules commonly require a double to finish, although casual bar play may use simplified house rules.)
It was a simple game where each player began with 501 points and subtracted the score of every dart they landed.
The first person to reach zero won.
Each player had three throws per round.
Ding, 5!
Bam, 50! Bullseye!
Jack deducted 75 points in the first round.
Hitting the innermost circle was called a bullseye, and it was worth fifty points.
He had looked confident, and apparently, that confidence was not entirely baseless.
However—
Bam, 50! Bullseye!
Bam, 50! Bullseye!
Ding, 20!
I was pretty confident in darts myself.
Back when I was in the SEALs, I had played constantly to kill time whenever there were no operations or training exercises.
I immediately deducted 120 points and took the lead.
“W-What the hell?! Jason, you tricked us!”
Jack shouted indignantly as he looked at my score.
“If you want to blame someone, blame Cole for bringing up the match. I never said I was bad at darts.”
“You... damn it.”
Left speechless, Jack angrily stepped back up to the line.
Darts were surprisingly affected by a player’s mental state.
Getting angry like that would only make things worse.
“Winner! Jason!”
Sure enough, I easily defeated Jack as his hand began trembling.
I cleared all my remaining points in only six rounds and won the game.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t thrown in a while. I’m not as good as I used to be.
Personally, I had been disappointed by a few throws where I hit one or five points.
Apparently, it had still been impressive enough for them.
“My God, Jason. At this level, you could enter a bar darts tournament.”
Cole in particular made an enormous fuss beside me, repeatedly exclaiming, “Oh my God.”
“Three Dragoon IPAs. One glass first, please. And an order of wings. Put it on that guy’s tab.”
Leaving them behind, I sat down at the bar and quickly placed my order without even looking back.
I wanted everything charged before Jack could change his story.
“Ahhh! That’s good.”
It was my first time drinking this beer since selling the Mustang, and once again, it did not disappoint.
The strong hop aroma characteristic of an IPA lingered in my mouth.
The next time I successfully sell a car, I’m drinking this again.
It was slightly more expensive than an ordinary lager, but it had enough character to justify the price.
Then, a little while later, the food I had been looking forward to since my previous visit finally arrived.
Buffalo wings.
My favorite thing to eat with alcohol.
Steam rose from the fried chicken wings piled inside a metal basket lined with white wax paper.
They were coated in hot sauce mixed with melted butter, and it immediately stimulated my appetite.
Naturally, it had to be Frank’s RedHot.
(Translator’s Note: Frank’s RedHot — An American cayenne-pepper hot sauce closely associated in popular cooking with Buffalo-style wing sauce. The novel references it as the expected hot sauce for proper Buffalo wings.)
I grabbed one by the narrow end of the bone, dipped it deeply into the white ranch dressing served on the side, and quickly brought it to my mouth.
First came the creamy richness of the ranch dressing.
Then the spicy, tangy flavor of the hot sauce followed.
Crunch—
The thin fried skin shattered, and the savory richness of juicy chicken filled my mouth.
Ah, this ridiculously salty flavor really is the best.
Just as the spicy, salty, sour, savory, and greasy flavors reached their peak, I took a gulp of beer.
“Ahhh!”
Was it because I had safely completed my second successful sale?
Or was it because the food and drinks were free?
For some reason, the beer and wings tasted even better than usual tonight.
“Hey... Jason. Why the hell do you eat wings and drink beer like you’re filming a commercial?”
At that moment, someone else interrupted my peaceful moment.
Ah, right. I forgot these three always came as a set.
The one who was practically the boss of the Jack, Cole, and Steven trio.
Steven had appeared at the saloon.