34. Caleb
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Caleb
I’m loading the last of the pieces into the trailer when my phone chimes. I finish securing the last of the straps around the crate and pull out my phone, expecting to see a text from Marnie.
Instead, I see a text from Art. We’ve been exchanging texts all week trying to coordinate a time for me to come pick up my surprise for Marnie—a signed cast photo from the set of Jaws.
I still have no idea how he got his hands on it, but it was displayed on a wall inside his office at Wicked Brews.
If he hadn’t asked me for help bringing a heavy shipment of supplies to his backroom, I never would’ve known of its existence.
I type out a reply to Art with my ETA before shoving my phone back in my pocket, but my mind is still on Marnie.
I haven’t heard from her in a few days, but I wasn’t all that concerned.
Today is the first day of exhibit installation, and we are moving in some of the large pieces that have been arriving at the warehouse over the last few weeks.
Once we get the bulk of these pieces moved in, the rest will be easy.
Most are display cases of various sizes that I custom-built for all the movie props.
After all the ground level display cases are positioned according to the layout Marnie approved, we still need to bring in the boards for their placards.
Prop placement will be one of the last things we finalize just in case we need to do any last-minute emergency rearrangements, and as another way to ensure nothing happens to them.
Those are all being held at the historical society in the artifact room to allow for proper daily maintenance.
This gave the owners peace of mind that nothing was being stored off-property and therefore not risking potential damage to the items in transit when it came time for installation.
Most, if not all, of these props were priceless. Original, one-of-a-kind items that were used in a timeless classic that can never be replaced. That alone added more stress to Marnie’s plate.
The lock clicks on the trailer door, and I shoot back another quick response to Art and head out of the warehouse loading zone.
I pull into a small gravel lot one street over from the main road just behind Wicked Brews. With the addition of the trailer, I wouldn’t fit in any street parking spots, and I would’ve held up traffic if I paused in front of the store to run in quickly.
Art spots me across the lot and makes his way to me, the photo wrapped in paper and tucked safely underneath his arm. Jumping down from the truck, my boots crunch against the gravel as I meet him.
I carefully peel back the paper to reveal the portrait, shining bright beneath the glass frame.
Everyone is crowded around the counter, the Wicked Brews sign overhead, grinning from ear to ear while hoisting their coffee cups.
In the margins and across the bottom are small, semi-faded signatures from everyone in the photograph.
“I still can’t believe you have this.” I stare at the image in awe, gingerly holding the sides of the frame to not leave a fingerprint on the glass. “How’d you get them all here for a photo?”
“The cast and crew used to come in all the time during the months they filmed. Got on a first-name basis with many of them.” He admires the picture.
“While filming the land scenes, their schedule was posted all around town since they were recruiting as many extras as possible. I found them in town and offered free refreshments and a place to hang out. I never thought they would take me up on my offer.” He chuckles to himself.
“I still talk to some of them to this day. The ones that are still here, that is.”
I wonder how I never learned this in all the years I’ve known Art.
“I know you will, but I’m still going to say it anyway,” he says, giving the picture another wistful glance. “Please take good care of this.”
My eyes track where his are fixed on the photo. In the bottom corner, I spot a familiar face, just fifty years younger. Art, and his late wife, Anita.
My chest tightens.
I’m holding a piece of history. Not just movie history, but personal history. Something so sacred to Art that he is finally willing to share with the world because I asked.
“I will,” I promise, giving him an earnest nod. “Marnie is going to be thrilled to see this.”