Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Awakening the Ability (2)
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One of the most important cafes in the history of Route 66 in America.
And its original sign was just discarded next to a trash can.
I looked around once more.
No one was there. It really seemed abandoned.
'They say you see as much as you know... It suddenly looks like an incredible find.'
I carefully lifted the sign.
It weighed about 30 pounds. No problem handling it alone.
'If I sell this...'
Suddenly, the morning news came to mind.
A plain neon sign had gone for $20,000. And this was far more valuable than that.
I carefully loaded the sign into the truck bed.
It felt like I'd unearthed a treasure.
I hit the accelerator and pulled out of the rest area.
Even as I merged back onto the highway, my mind stayed on the sign.
'ROUTE 66 CAFE'...
The cafe I'd seen like a mirage really existed.
'I need to see Bill.'
The antique shop owner in Austin that Sam had told me about before.
Bill, the owner of Old Texas Antiques, would surely recognize this item's value.
He was a true expert in this field.
But I couldn't drive this big truck into downtown Austin.
In the end, I parked at a truck stop on the outskirts and called an Uber.
I pulled into Love's Travel Stop.
I wrapped the sign tightly in a blanket and waited for the Uber.
When the car arrived, I loaded the sign in, and the driver asked,
"Whew, that's a big one. Heading to an antique shop?"
"Yeah, for an appraisal."
"Vintage stuff's prices are through the roof these days. Get lucky, and you might hit the jackpot."
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at Old Texas Antiques.
It was a standalone building on the side of Highway 290 on the outskirts of Austin.
A two-story brick structure with a classic sign.
Ding-a-ling-
The bell rang as I opened the door.
The scent of aged wood hit my nose first.
Looking around, shelves were packed with old furniture, paintings, clocks, and ornaments.
"Welcome."
A white-haired old man appeared from behind the counter.
He wore round glasses and had a neatly trimmed beard.
"Bill, long time."
"Jake? It's been ages! How's Sam?"
Bill's face lit up when he saw me.
"His health's... He's got surgery coming up."
"Oh no. That's how it goes when you get old... So, what brings you here?"
I set the sign I'd been carrying on the counter.
"Wanted an appraisal on this. Picked it up yesterday, seems pretty old..."
I unwrapped the blanket, and Bill's eyes widened.
He took off his glasses, put them back on, and examined the sign closely.
"Hmm, a Route 66 sign?"
"Yeah. Looks like from the 1930s..."
I hesitated for a moment, then said,
"Actually, I don't think it's just any antique. I searched online, and it seems like the original sign from Ariston Café..."
Bill pulled out a magnifying glass and inspected the sign.
Paint condition, rust level, font—everything in detail.
"Ariston Café? The legendary one in Richfield...?"
"Yes, exactly. Look here."
I pointed to the faint traces of ARISTON above CAFE.
"Someone repainted it, but the original letters are underneath."
Bill fetched a flashlight and shone it on.
Then he peered even closer with the magnifier.
"My God... The paint layers are definitely 1930s enamel. And this manufacturing method..."
He flipped the sign over.
There was a faint engraving in the corner of the back.
"H.A.W. 1938... Henry Adam Walker. The founder of Ariston Café!"
Bill got excited.
"This... this is an incredible find! Route 66 items have tons of collectors. Something like this... Where'd you get it?"
Route 66 is often called the 'Mother Road'.
It's that deeply embedded in American culture, full of memories and nostalgia.
That's why related antiques are still hugely popular.
"Just abandoned at a rest stop."
"Unbelievable. A treasure like this, thrown away."
Bill spent a while searching online, letting out exclamations.
Then he started tapping at a calculator.
"Ariston Café is legendary among Route 66 collectors. Especially an original sign... Never even been to auction."
"So, how much could it go for?"
"A regular Route 66 sign might fetch $1,500..."
Bill examined the sign again.
"But this condition, this historical value... It's on another level. Needs a proper appraisal, but at least $30,000. Maybe even $40,000?"
My heart pounded.
"Really?"
"For sure. I know a collector who was looking for Ariston Café items just last month. I'll call him right now."
"Yes, please!"
Bill made the call immediately.
He talked excitedly for a bit, then hung up.
"Peter Collins, a collector from California. He'll come see it himself tomorrow. If it's authentic, he'll pay $45,000 cash."
My legs went weak.
$45,000...
Enough to cover Sam's surgery and part of Eldest Aunt's debt.
"Really... $45,000?"
"Haha, yes! I'll hold onto the sign here. Come back tomorrow morning."
That's when something in the display case caught my eye. A small silver pocket watch.
It had intricate engravings on the front.
"Interested in that watch?"
Bill approached.
"Late 19th-century European pocket watch. Probably Swiss-made, but the exact maker's unknown."
"Can I take a look?"
"Of course."
Bill unlocked the case and handed me the watch.
The moment the cold metal touched my palm—
my vision went white again.
A clock workshop. A young watchmaker was assembling tiny parts.
His eyes were bloodshot, his hands trembling.
'For Marianne... I have to finish it.'
He muttered.
A photo of a young woman sat on the workbench.
That's how the watchmaker spent sleepless nights crafting the watch.
Assembling each piece with care, engraving the patterns.
"Gasp!"
I came to my senses to find Bill looking at me worriedly.
"Jake, you okay? You just zoned out standing there..."
"Oh, yeah... I'm fine. The watch was so beautiful, I got lost in it."
I set the watch down.
My hand was trembling slightly.
'I saw it again... the past.'
At this point, I was convinced it wasn't a dream or coincidence.
I could really see the past tied to objects.
"How much for this watch?"
"$350."
"Kinda pricey... How about $320? We're doing the sign deal tomorrow, after all."
Bill thought for a moment, then smiled.
"Deal. $330. Just say hi to Sam for me."
"Promise."
I bought the watch and left.
On the Uber ride back to the truck, it still felt unreal.
A sign tossed by a trash can was going to save us.
And this watch...
The fact that I could see the past.
'This ability... Is it a blessing?'
I called Sam.
"Sam, good news."
"What's up?"
"Don't worry about surgery costs. I should get a big payout tomorrow."
"What? How...?"
"Haha, I'll explain tomorrow. Just schedule the surgery at the hospital."
On the way home, my thoughts kept going.
I remembered when I was twenty. Around when Eldest Aunt got sick.
"Jae-min, I'm sorry..."
Eldest Aunt gripped my hand from her hospital bed.
"What for? Without you, I don't know where I'd be."
"I wanted to do more for you..."
"You've done plenty. Really."
Eldest Aunt smiled faintly.
Chemo started then, but the pancreatic cancer had spread too far already.
Six months later, she passed.
At the funeral, I saw Sam cry for the first time.
"Sorry, Jake. Shouldn't do this in front of you..."
"It's okay, Sam. We're family."
Sam hugged me tight.
After Eldest Aunt left, Sam and I grew even closer.
But Sam's health declined too, left alone.
His knee arthritis got so bad he couldn't drive trucks anymore.
"Take my truck."
"It's your baby. How could I?"
"I won't drive it anymore. It'll be happy with you."
A 2000 Freightliner FL70.
Worn now, but back then, just 10 years old and well-maintained.
That's when it became my companion.
I arrived at Sam's trailer house at 6 p.m.
Sam was sitting on the steps.
"Early today."
"Yeah. Eaten yet?"
"Not yet. Figured you'd come, so I waited."
"I'll make something."
"Nah. I got it ready."
In the kitchen, the table was set.
Chicken fried steak, cornbread, green bean casserole.
All classic Texas dishes.
"Whoa, feast."
"Nothing special. Figured you'd miss home cooking, eating out all the time."
I sat and picked up my fork.
One bite of steak, and juices filled my mouth.
"Mmm... delicious."
"Haha, slow down. You'll choke."
We ate quietly for a while, then I pulled an envelope from my pocket.
Money I'd set aside from yesterday's haul pay.
"Here."
"What's this?"
"This month's living expenses. Only $500, but..."
Sam's face hardened.
He pushed the envelope back and shook his head.
"Don't need it. Keep it."
"Sam, hospital bills, meds..."
"Pension covers it. Save your money."
"But I'm living here."
"You looking after me instead of your aunt is worth more."
Always like this. Stubbornly refused money talk.
A proud Texas man's pride.
"Tomorrow... something good's coming."
"The call earlier?"
"Yeah. Found an antique, turns out it's valuable."
Sam looked at me meaningfully.
"Your aunt had eyes like that."
"Really?"
"She'd bring home gems from flea markets. Once bought a $5 bowl that was Qing Dynasty porcelain. Sold for $3,000."
"Wow."
"Must be in the blood. Looks like you have the talent too."
After dinner, I tried to do dishes, but Sam stopped me.
"Leave it. I'll get it."
"Your knees hurt. Let me."
"Gotta move for exercise. Sitting makes 'em worse."
Couldn't argue with his stubbornness, so I backed off.
Instead, I cleaned the living room and took out the trash.
At 9 p.m., Sam headed to his room first.
"Get some rest. Big day tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah. Goodnight, Sam."
In bed, I pulled out the pocket watch.
It gleamed in the lantern light.
'A watch made for Marianne...'
Hard to believe this watch, filled with the watchmaker's love, was now mine.
I wound it slightly. Tick-tock echoed in the room.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
I could pay for Sam's surgery, pay off some debt.