Chapter 49: Master, Disciple, and Assistant
After returning from Mexico, I enjoyed a short three-day vacation.
The round trip from my shop to Alejandro’s estate was about eight hundred miles, or roughly 1,280 kilometers, so I had accumulated not only fatigue from the work but also considerable travel exhaustion.
Still, there was nothing particularly grand about my vacation. I simply took Dusty for walks once or twice a day and had a glass of the tequila Alejandro had given me in the evening.
Then, on the afternoon of the fourth day, I asked Noah to come to work.
Before things became even busier, there was somewhere I absolutely wanted to visit with him.
Rattle, rattle—
“The person we’re visiting now is your master, right, Jason?”
Noah asked from the passenger seat, his eyes sparkling.
The truck carried not only Noah and Dusty but also hamburgers we had picked up from Little Anthony’s Diner.
“Yeah. He’s a veteran mechanic with fifty years of experience. If there’s anything you’re curious about, you should ask him.”
“Wow… Fifty years? I can’t even imagine it. That’s more than three times my age in experience.”
Donnelly’s house was only about thirty minutes from the warehouse, so we arrived slightly earlier than planned.
When I parked in front of the yard and got out, I saw the familiar rocking chair beneath the eaves.
A brief glance around revealed that the garden had become somewhat untidy.
Considering Donnelly’s meticulous personality, it was a sight I could never have imagined before.
Ding-dong—
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jason.”
Click—
“Oh my, you’re early. The old gentleman will be pleased. He’s been quietly looking forward to your visit since this morning.”
The live-in nurse opened the door with a welcoming smile and greeted us.
“Donnelly! I’m here.”
“Oh, come in, Jason!”
Donnelly, who had been writing something in an armchair in the living room, set down his reading glasses and smiled brightly.
I approached and gave him a light hug.
The body beneath my fingertips felt noticeably thinner than before.
“Woof! Woof!”
“Oh! Yes, yes, I need to greet you too!”
Dusty seemed delighted to see Donnelly again. Standing on his hind legs like he was performing a trick, he waved his front paws wildly in the air.
Donnelly smiled as brightly as a child at Dusty’s affection.
Fortunately, his complexion looked much healthier than usual.
His eyes were also clear and full of strength, enough to make me forget he was fighting cancer if not for his somewhat thinner body.
“Noah, this is Earl Donnelly. He’s my master. Introduce yourself.”
“Hello, Mr. Donnelly. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Noah, who had been standing awkwardly behind me, greeted him in an extremely polite tone.
“Noah, I finally get to see your face. But what exactly have you heard so much about?”
Donnelly eased the atmosphere with a joke and his usual benevolent expression.
“Hmm, well… the story about your wife, the time you repaired a Cadillac in the desert… Oh! And the Corvette restoration too! The one that earned Top Flight this time.”
“Heh, is that so? Then you’ve already heard all the interesting stories. Top Flight—wasn’t that remarkable? Driving that car feels like a dream. And working on the Corvette with Jason seems like it happened only yesterday.”
Donnelly looked toward a framed photograph on the shelf.
It showed the restored red Corvette C2, with Donnelly and me standing awkwardly on either side of it.
“The older I get, the faster time passes. It’s almost unbelievable.”
“Haha, it certainly does. You haven’t had this in a while either, have you? The Anthony Special.”
I took out the hamburgers we had picked up on the way.
The rich, oily aroma of the patties drifted out through the wrapping paper.
“Oh! How did you know I wanted one of these?”
“…You kept saying it over the phone. That you wanted an Anthony burger, that you wanted their fries too, and that you could almost smell them…”
“Hehehe. Did I? For some reason, I kept thinking about their patties and fries.”
“Haha, I understand. When I was wandering around the country, this hamburger was the only thing I missed. Noah, you’ve never tried one, right? Let’s eat together.”
For a while, the three of us silently focused on our hamburgers and fries.
Munch, munch—
When we worked together, the only sound was usually the ratchet too.
The sound of us eating hamburgers in the quiet living room brought back vivid memories of working with Donnelly.
There was only one difference.
Now there were three of us instead of two.
Even as he ate, Donnelly’s gaze naturally rested on Noah.
Me, whom he called his disciple.
And Noah, my assistant.
A gentle curve formed on Donnelly’s lips.
“So, Noah. How do you find working with cars?”
“Hmm. I think it’s harder than I expected. I thought you just replaced parts and that was it, but there’s a lot of work that requires thinking too.”
Noah reached for another fry as he spoke.
“Oh! But recently, there was a girl who received a car I worked on as a birthday present. Seeing how happy she was made me feel really good.”
“I see. That was a valuable experience. And what is it like working with Jason?”
Donnelly glanced meaningfully at my face before asking again.
For some reason, I became nervous, as though my master were checking my grades.
“Jason is completely different when he’s working. He’s super strict. If I don’t return a tool to its proper place immediately after using it, or if I leave oil on the floor for even a little while, he really scolds me. He even interferes with how I wash my hands!”
Seeing his chance, Noah rattled off everything he had experienced while working with me as though reporting my misdeeds.
Come to think of it, I had learned that hand-washing method while Donnelly nagged me too…
“Bwahahaha! Is that so? Well, that fellow has quite a personality. He was exactly the same when he worked with me, even though I was his master and had fifty years of experience! Hahaha!”
Donnelly laughed loudly, clearly delighted by Noah’s complaints.
“Still, you’re doing well, Jason. Now that I’ve seen Noah too, I feel somewhat relieved.”
Donnelly lightly patted my embarrassed shoulder.
His hand had grown light from his illness, but the weight carried within it felt heavier than ever.
“Noah, learn diligently. I’m not saying this merely because he’s my disciple. Jason is an extraordinary restorer, and he will become even more so in the future. Someday, you’ll be proud that you worked beside him. I already am. Hehehe.”
“Donnelly…”
“Yes! I’ll remember that!”
Noah stopped chewing and nodded with a serious expression.
“Good, good. Then that settles it. And Jason, it seems you’ll need to bring more hamburgers and fries next time.”
Donnelly joked while looking at the table, which had already been completely cleared.
Noah hurriedly wiped the ketchup from the corner of his mouth and pretended not to hear.
“Woof! Woof!”
The next morning, while we were returning from a walk, Dusty barked toward the road ahead.
In the distance, a postal vehicle was driving away in a cloud of dust, and the red flag on the mailbox I had installed in front of the warehouse had been raised.
“Was I expecting any mail?”
Clunk—
When I opened the mailbox without thinking much of it, all kinds of mail spilled out.
“Woof! Woof!”
“What in the world…”
I bent down and hurriedly gathered the letters scattered across the ground.
First, the largest item was this month’s issue of Heritage Classic, which Elena had sent me.
The rest were all ordinary letters, but—
Alex, Michael, Jonathan…?
I did not recognize a single sender’s name.
I opened the thickest envelope first.
—Dear Mr. Jason Kwon,
My name is Alex Carter, and I live in Tucson.
I read the article about Second Life Motors in Heritage Classic and decided to send you this letter…
Inside were several photographs of a vehicle and a letter requesting that I restore it.
Come to think of it, during the magazine interview, they had said they would publish a photograph of the sign and the shop’s address.
Some of the other letters included photographs and others did not, but every one of them was a request to restore the sender’s car.
You should prepare yourself. You’re going to become very busy from now on!
The words of Elena, the magazine editor, replayed in my head.
It was only a few lines in an article. I never imagined it would have this much influence…
I first calmed myself, then poured all the mail onto the workbench that doubled as a table and began reading each letter carefully.
I had received eight requests in total.
The vehicles ranged from old Chevrolets to Cadillacs and Chryslers, and the restoration fees they were willing to pay differed greatly depending on the condition of each car.
The problem was that I could not accept every request.
I never thought I’d have the luxury of worrying about something like this.
It was a far more complicated decision than expected, requiring me to consider the proposed fee relative to the vehicle’s condition, the time constraints, and the likely profit.
Moreover, this month’s magazine had only just been released, so it was obvious that more requests would continue pouring in.
That doesn’t mean I plan to choose only the easy jobs.
Profit mattered, but selecting restorations that would benefit my experience and career, even if they required somewhat more work, was also extremely important to me.
Rumble, rumble, rumble—
While I was deep in thought, the rough sound of a diesel engine reached my ears.
When I raised my head, a large transport truck was slowly entering the area in front of the warehouse, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Screech—pssssh!
The transport truck stopped in front of the warehouse, and the delivery driver climbed out holding a clipboard.
“Are you Mr. Jason Kwon of Second Life Motors?”
“Yes, that’s me. What is this about?”
“Then please sign here. This shipment came from Scottsdale.”
Scottsdale?
I was not expecting any shipment from there.
To begin with, it was an upscale commercial district catering to the wealthy, with little connection to someone like me.
Still confused, I accepted the pen the man handed me and signed the delivery receipt.
Then the driver spoke briefly with someone on the phone before holding it out to me.
“Yes, yes, it has arrived. Ah, certainly. One moment.”
The instant I placed the phone against my ear, a clear, bright female voice burst out in a high pitch.
“Hello, Jason?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Oh my, have you already forgotten my voice? I’m disappointed…”
Already? Ah… I remembered that way of speaking.
“Kay—no, Hailey. What did you suddenly send me?”
“Hm? You haven’t looked yet? Hurry up and see.”
Click, screech—
The driver happened to be opening the cargo compartment and unloading something from inside.
“This… is an M5.”
“Hehehe. That’s right! Of course you recognized it immediately.”
What emerged from the enclosed trailer was a 2010 BMW E60 M5 painted in a deep Interlagos Blue.
(Translator’s Note:BMW E60 M5 — The high-performance version of the fifth-generation BMW 5 Series, produced from 2005 to 2010. It used a naturally aspirated 5.0-liter S85 V10 and was offered in North America with a six-speed manual transmission as well as the SMG automated manual.)
(Translator’s Note:Interlagos Blue — A metallic BMW paint color named after the Interlagos racing circuit in São Paulo, Brazil. It became closely associated with BMW M vehicles of the 2000s.)
The solid yet smooth curves characteristic of German cars gleamed in the sunlight.
“But why did you suddenly send this?”
“Why else? You helped me before, and there are some things I’m curious about, so think of it as a kind of gift from me.”
“A gift? Even so, this is a little excessive.”
All I had done was repair the headlights on her Lincoln.
Besides, Hailey and I had never been particularly close, either in the past or now.
I had not even recognized her voice over the phone.
“Listen until the end. The car may look fine on the outside, but the inside is a different story. The engine in particular has a lot of problems. It’ll probably need something close to an overhaul.”
“What?”
My gaze naturally moved toward the M5’s engine bay.
At that moment, a bluish hologram appeared across my vision.
—————
[2010 BMW E60 M5]
Exterior: A
└ Paint Match: 93% — Original panels
Interior: B+
└ Seats and carpeting in good condition
└ Window switches and dashboard urethane coating damaged
Engine: D
└ Connecting-rod bearing wear: 63%
└ Reduced VANOS system pressure
└ Internal throttle-actuator gear wear
└ Ion-current control unit signal malfunction
(Translator’s Note:VANOS — BMW’s variable camshaft-timing system. The name derives from the German phrase Variable Nockenwellensteuerung. It was introduced on production BMW engines in the early 1990s.)
Transmission: A-
└ Clutch life remaining: 77%
Oil leak detected
Coolant leak detected
—————
“Ah… Connecting-rod bearings, VANOS, and even the throttle actuators. There’s practically nothing healthy left in the engine.”
At my muttering, Hailey’s voice rose with interest on the other end of the phone.
“No way. You already know after one glance? That’s right. So repair it and sell it through our company’s auction. I bought it for thirty thousand dollars, so just return my principal. You can keep all the remaining profit. What do you think?”
“What do I think…?”
The E60 M5 was a 2010 model.
Strictly speaking, it was still too young to be called a classic car. It was a youngtimer.
(Translator’s Note:Youngtimer — A European collector-car term for a vehicle that has aged beyond ordinary used-car status but is not yet generally considered an antique. The exact age range varies by market and organization.)
In the industry, cars roughly fifteen to twenty-five years old were commonly called modern classics.
Since true classic cars, normally sixty or seventy years old, had already risen to astronomical prices, demand for modern classics like this had grown sharply in recent years.
If properly restored, this car could sell for more than seventy thousand dollars…
Moreover, being a 2010 model meant it came from the final model year of that generation, and the manual transmission made it even more desirable.
“I’m grateful for the offer, but are you really okay with that?”
“Yes. I’ll still earn money from the auction commission, so it isn’t a losing deal. Besides, I’m not doing this for the money…”
Not for the money.
Hailey’s final remark bothered me slightly, but whatever her reason, this was clearly too good an opportunity to pass up.
“There’s no reason for me to refuse. Thank you. I’ll bring it back properly. To be honest, I’ve wanted to work on this engine at least once.”
“Hehehe. I thought you would. Oh, and Jason—if you call me Kaylee one more time, I really won’t let you get away with it.”
Ah…
She had heard that.
I thought she had let it pass.
“Ahem. Right. That was my fault. Sorry.”
“Then I’ll look forward to it!”
After ending the call, I looked at the request letters and photographs scattered messily across the table.
I guess I don’t need to agonize over my next project anymore.
[BMW E60 M5]
CC BY 2.0, photograph by The Car Spy