Aria's Antiques

Prologue

Two men, one short and one tall, hopped out of a navy blue pickup truck. If one were to look closely, they would be able to see a yellowed, worn out name tag on each of the men. One tag read Silas while the other had Oakley etched onto it. Silas, the scrawny, short one, was a man of about 30; he sported striking blue eyes and long black hair, which was currently being styled in a low ponytail. His bigger counterpart was a teenage boy who passionately loved football, band tees, and hair gel, all of which were represented in his outfit (a band tee, college football sweatpants, and a heaping amount of hair gel).  These two may appear to be completely different but ultimately they had one, very important thing in common, Aria's Antiques--a store whose name was strategically placed at the top of each name tag in thick, black letters.

Silas walked to the back of the pickup truck and proceeded to unload the goods piled in the truck's bed, attached only to the truck by yellow bungee cords. Meanwhile, Oakley darted into a nearby storefront to grab a wagon. The over-sized wagon was pulled to the side of the truck and loaded with all types of things from brass nightstands to ceramic Christmas trees, all varying in size and weight. Each item had been skillfully untangled from the mess of bungee cords in the bed of the truck by none other than Silas, who was more than used to doing that kind of chore. Once full of all of the truck bed's contents, the wagon was wheeled up a narrow ramp and through the creaky, old doors that the wagon had originated from. 

Aria's Antiques was a small little store. The walls were painted a soft green and had white trim around the door frame and windows. Lining the walls were white shelves, containing things that may seem old and musty to some, but were appeared to be gems in the eyes of the store's clientele. A wooden counter sat next to the door, on top of which sat a cowbell and a cash register. This little store may not sound like much, but the element that truly tied the place together was perched behind the counter, in a rickety rocking chair that had a faded gold cushion tied to the seat.

Aria Yagami jumped when she heard the noise of the door's chimes. Jingle, jingle. She put the magazine she had been reading onto the counter in front of her and immediately rushed over to the wagon of treasures. 

"What treats have you brought for me today, Oak?" exclaimed four feet and eleven inches of pure excitement.

"Well, it's mostly just old records today," Oakley replied as he pulled the front of the wagon into the store. Silas, pushing the back of the wagon through the narrow doorway, looked at the girl and then at Oakley. 

He at last said "I think I saw a metal sign towards the bottom of the pile". After dropping that bomb, he took a step back. 

Aria's eyes widened. Her hands wavered over the heap for a split second, during which Oakley copied Silas and stepped away from the wagon. Aria dug into the wagon and violently began searching through the wagon's contents. An old book sailed through the air, a pair of cracked sunglasses found their way to the floor, and a blue, faded lamp was tossed to the side. More items followed suit. A dirty baseball, smelly bowling shoes, a small, decorative box. The only thing that was spared from Aria's wrath was a porcelain platter, which was, of course, carefully set aside. Silas and Oakley hid in the corner of the store, not daring to come out until Aria found her prize. Which she did after about 30 seconds. 

Aria sat on the floor in front of the wagon looking quite pleased. A circular sheet of dust-covered metal sat in her hands. With one solid sweep of her callused hands, Aria cleared off enough dust to make out the words inscribed in the sign. 

"Sinclair! It's a vintage Sinclair sign!"

"Don't you already have one that looks exactly like that," Silas said tiredly. 

"Yes, but this one is different. See the rim --it's ripped instead of flat" Aria lectured. She looked expectantly up at Oakley.

He replied "Yup, truly one of a kind" in turn, logged off from what Aria was saying and instead focusing on the excited look on her face. Nobody considered her to be a beauty queen; although this is true, none of them had ever seen her young, violet eyes light up the way they did when they found a new treasure. 

"I wonder who this sign belonged to" Aria dreamily asked to no one in particular.

"I couldn't care if I tried"

"Well Silas, not everyone is as narrow minded as you. Maybe the sign is from a failing gas station that struggled to survive during the great depression."

"Uh huh"

"Or it could have been a lonely boy's only connection to his late father, who perished in a fire"

"Sure"

"Don't you think it's cool to think about the history behind each and every object"

"Not really, but I want to keep my job, so yes." Silas told Aria, giving her a bored look before he walked deeper into the store. 

She turned sadly to Oakley. "What about you? Are you as mentally dead as your co-worker?"  

"Uhhh. I guess it's kinda cool" shrugged Oakley, who in reality agreed with Silas, but held his tongue. 

Aria walked over to a nearby shelf and placed the sign down neatly. She would later polish it with care and give it a reasonable price, however, right now she just wanted to study it and all of its imperfections.

Oakley took this as his cue to leave. Walking out the door, he wheeled the wagon back to its designated spot in the back corner of the store and walked out the front door of the store to move the truck. He usually would have been humming to the rhythm of some country song, but today his mind was somewhere else. "I wonder if she's right-- about every object having a story." Oakley quietly thought to himself. "Who am I kidding? Why am taking Aria of all people seriously. Junk is just junk."