Reunion in LA (5)
No one could match Bill's connections in this business.
Learning he knew a specialist in movie props made me genuinely excited.
"Can you give me his contact?"
"You bet. I'll text it to you. Handle that thing carefully. If it's real... it's something huge."
"Haha, got it. Thanks, Bill."
"Bring those vintage cameras and the rest back to Austin. If there's anything good, I'll buy it off you. I'll give you a fair price, no worries."
"For real?"
"Vintage cameras are right up our alley, and the other props sell well too. Send pics first, and I'll let you know."
"Thank you so much!"
Hearing that from Bill put my mind at ease.
It saved me a ton of hassle tracking down buyers or dealers.
"Oh, and for paintings or art, hit up Leonard. If it's good, he'll buy it outright. Or I can hook you up with other dealers. I'll give him a heads-up."
"Bill, you've been a huge help."
"Haha, no biggie. We look out for each other. You're doing great, Jake. Keep this up, and you'll be a big player in no time."
I hung up.
Waited about thirty minutes, then called Leonard.
"Leonard, it's Jake Winch."
"Oh, Winch! How've you been? Bill just called—said you'd be in touch."
"Haha, thanks to you guys, I'm good. Anyway, I scored some nice stuff here in LA. Silverware, a bronze sculpture, and two paintings."
"Nice, you're on a roll. What've you got?"
"First off, a Tony Berlant painting from 1967, perfect signature. Silverware's a 1940s-50s sterling set... and a Pierre Morrel horse sculpture."
Leonard listened carefully, then let out a low chuckle.
His tone was gruff, but his voice brimmed with amusement.
"I'm driving right now—I'll send 'em as soon as I get to my motel."
"Good. If they're real, I'll give you a solid price. Hang up if you're on the road."
Back at the parking lot.
Looks like I'd need to crash here another night.
Sorting the items, snapping photos, lining up sales... plenty to do.
I was sweaty. Craved a shower.
Searched for motels with truck parking nearby.
Budget Inn - $65/night
Not too far.
Twenty minutes later, I checked in.
Carefully moved the items from the truck.
Propped the two paintings by the bed, set the silverware box and sculpture on the table.
Left the cameras, lamp, and chair in the truck—they were headed to Austin.
Finally, placed the robot arm gently on the bed.
Unwrapped the cloth padding and inspected it closely once more.
Chrome-plated metal. Intricate joints. Detailed fingers.
Truly incredible...
Hard to believe this was actually used in a movie.
Arnold Schwarzenegger. James Cameron. Stan Winston...
A piece of that legendary film right in my hands.
Pulled out my phone and started photographing everything.
First, the Tony Berlant painting for Leonard—multiple angles, close-ups of the signature and condition.
Did the same for the rest, then sent them all to him.
About thirty minutes later, he called.
"Winch."
"Yeah, Leonard."
"Checked the pics. Hell, Tony Berlant... lucky find. If it's good in person, $2,200. The Pierre Morrel sculpture looks legit too. Silverware's solid. Those two together, $1,750—sound good?"
"Perfect if you take it all."
"Good. Ship to Portland. I'll cover shipping."
"Will do. Thanks."
Hung up with Leonard.
Already locked in $3,950.
Tony Berlant at $2,200, sculpture and silverware $1,750.
The R. Miller painting was too minor to bother Leonard with—I'd sell it separately.
Posted it on my usual online antiques forum with photos.
San Pedro Harbor Scene. 30x40cm. $250.
DM if interested.
Not a huge sum, but it'd sell quick.
Now, the big one.
Michael Bradley
Bill's text had arrived with the contact.
The movie prop expert he'd recommended.
"Whew..."
Deep breath, then hit call.
A few rings, then:
"Bradley speaking."
Bright voice. Mid-50s, maybe 60s guy.
"Hi, Jake Winch here. Bill Thompson referred me."
"Ah, Bill! He gave me a heads-up. Terminator 2 prop, right?"
"Yes. From a set designer's warehouse in Hollywood. Raymond Johnson."
Short pause on the line.
"Hmm, Raymond Johnson... I know the name. Big in 80s and 90s Hollywood. Worked a lot with Stan Winston Studios."
"That's him."
"Can we meet tomorrow? Where in LA are you?"
"Motel near Burbank."
"Perfect—my shop's in Burbank. 10 a.m. work?"
"Yes."
"Texting the address. And Winch..."
"Rough value?"
"Gotta see it, but conservatively... $30,000 minimum. Endo skeleton arm—price varies by type and scene."
Thirty grand.
More than everything else from the warehouse combined.
And that was the floor—appraisal could push it higher.
"See you tomorrow, Winch. Can't wait."
"Me too. Thanks."
Hung up and sat on the bed.
Hands shaking.
Minimum thirty grand...
Suddenly thought of family.
Felt like forever since I'd been home.
Texted Dorothy.
Shipping delays had Nancy super pissed, apparently.
Picturing my little princess's cute protest made me chuckle.
Chatted about little nothings after that.
Sam walking the neighborhood for rehab, Nancy asking daily when I'd be back...
Last text from Dorothy checked off, I set the phone down.
Knowing family was waiting made everything solid.
Showered, grabbed a simple dinner.
Three carnitas tacos from a nearby truck, a beer.
Solo celebration in the motel room.
Glanced at the robot arm by the bed.
Chrome gleamed in the dim light.
"Thanks, Terminator."
Muttered to myself, bit into a taco.
Sipped the cold beer.
Thoughts swirled, but...
Right now, just savor this.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
Next morning, 9 a.m.
Woke before the alarm.
Got ready leisurely, then carefully packed the robot arm last.
Into a big bag, checked Michael's address.
Hollywood Memorabilia & Props
1150 W Olive Ave, Burbank
Fifteen minutes away.
Drove into downtown Burbank.
Hollywood signs, studio buildings. Heart of the movie biz.
Found Olive Avenue.
1150.
There it was.
Two-story commercial building. Big glass windows on the first floor, packed with movie posters and props.
Sign clear as day.
Hollywood Memorabilia & Props
Since 1985
Parked the truck, grabbed the bag carefully.
Opened the glass door—bell jingled.
"Be right there!"
Male voice from the back.
I browsed slowly while waiting.
Walls covered in posters.
Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Back to the Future, Blade Runner...
Glass cases crammed with props.
Lightsaber replicas, blaster guns, costume pieces... intriguing stuff.
One wall full of signed posters: Harrison Ford, Sigourney Weaver, Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Whoa...
Heaven for movie buffs.
Even I was impressed.
"Mr. Winch!"
Man emerged from the back.
Mid-60s. White hair, glasses.
Flannel shirt, warm smile.
"Michael Bradley. Great to meet you."
"Jake Winch."
Quick handshake, then down to business.
"Got the item?"
Lifted the bag.
"Perfect. This way—to the workbench."
Followed him to the back.
Small workshop. Big table, bright lights, magnifier, tools.
"Set it here. Gently."
Placed the bag on the table.
Michael opened it—the metal arm gleamed.
"Oh..."
His eyes lit up.
Gloved up, lifted it carefully.
"Real metal, alright."
Tested the joints slowly.
Bent each finger, whistling softly.
"Joints still work. Impressive."
Magnifier on the chrome plating.
"Peeling spots... key evidence. Shows real age. Replicas don't wear like this—fake distressing is obvious."
Checked the shoulder mount inside out.
"Connection structure... see this? Stan Winston Studios signature. Replicas can't match the detail."
Ten minutes of inspection.
Michael looked up slowly.
"No doubt—authentic."
My heart pounded.
"Terminator 2: Judgment Day T-800 endoskeleton arm. Made by Stan Winston Studios, late 1990 to early 1991. Provenance checks out—Raymond Johnson worked with the team, explains how it ended up with him."
"Value...?"
Michael pondered.
"Good condition. Some chrome wear, but that's proof of authenticity. Joints functional, no structural damage, minimal corrosion..."
Set it down gently.
"Not from a specific scene or iconic moment—just one of the many endoskeleton arms. Still hugely valuable, but factoring that in..."
He hesitated, then offered carefully.
"I'll buy it for $40,000."
Breath caught.
"Forty thousand."
"Yes. Cash, right now."
Brain racing.
Forty grand. Way over expectations.
Could I get more?
"Winch."
Michael continued.
"Since Bill sent you, I'll be straight. Auction it, and yeah—you'd get more. Minimum eighty grand, lucky maybe over a hundred. But it takes months. Prep, promo, the auction... big sites take hefty fees. Might not even sell."
All spot on.
I knew from experience.
Finding the right buyer at full value? Whole different game. Not my wheelhouse yet.
"I can give you forty grand cash now. No taxes, no hassle, done deal. Walk out with it."
He added, more earnestly.
"...And I love these props. Thirty-plus years in this. I'll preserve it, display it, get it to a collector who truly gets it. That's my job."
Sincerity in his eyes.
Decision made.
"Deal. Forty thousand."