Everyday Life in Austin (1)
Michael grinned broadly.
"Excellent decision. Thank you. Just give me a moment."
He stepped into the office.
Five minutes later, he returned, holding a thick envelope in his hand.
"Take a look."
Jake opened the envelope.
Bundles of hundred-dollar bills were inside.
He spread them out on the table and started counting them one by one.
Four hundred bills.
Exactly forty thousand dollars.
"Thank you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you. Opportunities like this don't come around often."
Michael carefully picked up the robot arm.
"Coming from Raymond Johnson's warehouse... the provenance is so clear, which makes it extra special. Collectors eat that stuff up."
"Do you need any certificates or anything?"
"That'd be great. Just a simple bill of sale. Keeps the records straight."
Michael fetched the paperwork.
It was straightforward: seller's name, buyer's name, item description, amount, date, provenance...
Jake double-checked everything and signed it.
"All set."
They shook hands.
"Best of luck, Jake. I heard from Bill—you've got a real knack for finding good stuff."
"You're too kind."
"Nah, this piece proves it. You've got an eye. If you're in LA often, hit me up. If I find anything good in the movie props world, I'll buy it off you no problem."
"Will do."
He took Michael's business card.
"Drive safe."
He left the shop and climbed into the truck.
He checked the envelope again.
Forty grand. It felt heavy.
This is... real...
As he fired up the truck, he checked the online forum.
Perfect timing—a reply had come in on the R. Miller sketch.
The timing was spot on.
He fired back a quick reply.
The response came almost immediately.
Time check: 11:30.
A little wiggle room.
First things first—pick up a gift for Nancy.
Appeasing an furious little princess with a present was serious business.
A quick search showed a big toy store called Toy Galaxy just ten minutes away.
He pulled up to the toy store.
Parked and headed inside.
Kids' laughter filled the air.
Parents pushed carts around.
He scanned the aisles and found the dinosaur section.
Sure enough, every kind and size of dino plushie waiting for a home: T-Rex, Triceratops, Stegosaurus...
Prices: small ones $10-20, big ones $50-100.
He eyed the largest one, but Dorothy's words popped into his head.
'Don't go blowing a ton on gifts.'
That was code for "bring home something flashy and I'll smack you."
Wise choice: go mid-size.
A $35 T-Rex.
Soft material, cute design. Press the button, and it growled.
Nancy would love it.
"$35.99."
He paid, got change, and asked for gift wrapping.
"Who’s this for?"
The clerk smiled.
"My niece. She's six."
"Aw, how sweet. She'll love it. Kids that age go nuts for dino plushies."
Wrapped gift in hand, he headed back to the truck.
Placed it on the passenger seat. Time: 1 PM.
Santa Monica's about an hour—perfect.
He drove through LA traffic, heading west.
Hit the Santa Monica Freeway, and the Pacific came into view.
Blue ocean. White waves.
Tension melted away. Mood lifted.
The breeze felt damn refreshing.
Arrived in Santa Monica at 2:50.
Found the cafe near the pier.
Ocean View Cafe
Cozy little spot.
Outdoor terrace with ocean views.
Scanning the interior, a woman waved.
Mid-50s, glasses. Warm vibe.
"Jake?"
"Yeah. Susan?"
"That's me. Have a seat."
He sat.
Carefully placed the sketch on the table.
Susan lit up as she examined it.
"Wow... it's gorgeous. San Pedro Harbor... 1953..."
She checked the back.
Studied the signature closely.
"Perfect for our living room. My husband loves art. $250, right?"
"Yep."
"Sold."
She pulled cash from her wallet.
Counted out $250 and handed it over.
"Thank you."
"Thank you. Hard to find gems like this online."
Handshake, then out of the cafe.
LA business finally wrapped.
"Time to head home."
He exhaled deeply and turned the key.
Back to his home—Texas.
But first: pick up the load for Austin.
He checked the text from dispatcher Tom.
Hey, hero. The Austin run I mentioned. Oranges to Dallas wholesaler, 35,000 pounds. Thursday AM pickup. Drive safe. LA Produce Market - 1601 E Olympic Blvd, Los Angeles.
That damn "hero" crap.
He shook his head and checked the time.
4 PM now...
Wednesday today. Plenty of time till Thursday morning.
Once loaded, it'd be dozens of hours straight to Texas—needed rest tonight.
Before heading to the motel, he texted Leonard.
Reply came quick.
Would've been nice to deliver in person and see Leonard's face, but not practical.
On the way back to the motel, he stopped at a UPS store. Paid the clerk, repackaged the boxes with fresh padding—just in case—and insured them.
Back at the motel as sunset painted the sky.
Today's checklist: done.
Dinner at a nearby Mexican joint.
Chimichanga and margarita. Quiet solo toast.
What a insane week.
Meeting Leonard, the Terminator arm.
Felt like a dream.
Stepped out, gazed at LA's night skyline.
City lights twinkled.
Thought I was done with LA... second time already.
Might be coming back more now.
Connections made, antique scene scoped.
Back at the motel, crashed on the bed.
Exhausted from the day's hustle, but good vibes.
Opened his phone, reread texts with Dorothy.
Nancy loving dinos. Sam out walking.
Wanna get home.
With that thought, he drifted off.
Next day, 5 AM.
Showered, packed, checked out.
Time to grab the load at Tom's address.
LA Produce Market: wholesale food chaos from dawn.
Thirty-minute drive; trucks already lined up.
Inside the building, fresh fruit scents everywhere: oranges, lemons, grapefruits, apples...
That green tang of unripe produce as he found the foreman.
"Jake Winch. Here for the Dallas orange load."
The middle-aged guy checked papers.
"Got it. Back into the truck bay. Forklift coming right up."
He reversed the truck precisely into the designated reefer bay.
Reefer temp steady at 39°F (4°C). Oranges spoiled quick at room temp—cold essential.
Forklifts hummed to life.
Orange boxes on wooden pallets loaded one by one.
Each stamped "Sunkist California."
"All California navels. Prime condition—just mind the temp."
"You got it. No worries."
Loaded up, signed off.
Weight: exactly 34,800 pounds. About 15.8 tons.
Pay: $2,700. 1,400 miles at roughly $2 per.
"Safe travels."
"Thanks."
Secured the doors, double-checked reefer: temp stable, fans good. Perfect.
7 AM departure from LA.
I-10 eastbound. Texas bound.
Morning sun poured through the windows.
Out of the city, desert unfolded.
Radio on: country tunes. Johnny Cash's "I've Been Everywhere."
Spot on.
Miles in, phone buzzed.
Trucker WhatsApp group. Big Tom.
Quick chat with the crew felt good.
Long hauls got lonely sometimes, but buddies like these made it bearable.
Crossed into Arizona, desert with giant cacti whizzing by. Blue skies, red earth.
Afternoon 2 PM-ish, hit a truck stop near Tucson.
Fueled up, checked reefer—temp solid.
Diner for late lunch: chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes. Trucker special.
Guy at the next table struck up convo.
"Where to?"
"Dallas. You?"
"Houston. Same way."
Swapped road updates.
Quick meal done, farewell.
"Drive safe."
"Winch, you too."
Back on I-10.
Sun dipping west.
Sunset bled red across the desert, then twilight sky with emerging stars.
That pre-night desert sky—always magic. Blues, reds, stars ready to pour.
7 PM, short break at a truck stop near New Mexico border.
Regs demanded rest, even if he could've pushed.
"Ugh, beat."
Sleeper cab hit like a brick. Out cold till 5 AM next.
Day two to Texas.
New Mexico desert: drier, but bigger, cleaner skies.
Noon, past Las Cruces, crossed into Texas.
Afternoon through El Paso, eastbound.
Sunset stop near Fort Stockton truck stop.
Sleeper berth again—home thoughts heavy.
Being out long ain't easy.
4 AM restart.
Familiar endless Texas plains, dawn gold flooding the road.
Saturday 10 AM.
Dallas outskirts at last.
Dallas Food Wholesaler in an industrial park off the city.
Warehouses galore, trucks buzzing.
Lone Star Food Distributors.
Gate guy waved.
"Oranges? Bay 3."
Backed into Bay 3.
Opened doors—chill air rushed out.
Guy checked temp gun.
"Temps good. Perfect."
Forklifts unloaded boxes.
California oranges safe in Texas.
Half hour, done.
Signed, grabbed $2,700 check.
"Good work."
"Thanks."
Empty truck out the gate.
All done. Austin next.
200 miles, three hours.
I-35 south.
Texas scenery: ranches, farms, small towns.
Heart raced.
Really going home now.