Ollie Comes Back

“Come to the Alpine Haus Bar, 6 pm.  Come alone. Bring some paper or a computer or whatever you writer-types use.”

“Who is this?”

No one calls me on a Sunday, unless I guess it’s an emergency and I’m on call.  Seems everyone is quiet on Sunday, and maybe that’s what we should be on Sunday:  quiet and reverent.  And of course, emails are frowned upon.  But who was it that called, told me to go to this bar and then hung up?

Maybe it was a set-up for a kidnapping, since people watching my intermittent contact with Ollie.  Maybe it was Veronica and her people, or someone else who wanted a piece of the old man, using me as bait to get him?  But on the other hand, who the hell knows I am a writer, and then tells me to bring paper or a computer, or whatever you writer types use.”

Use for what?

It was 5:30 pm and I had only 15 minutes to make a decision.  Should I take a chance?  Ollie taught me to have courage in life, and not to back away from challenges, and this was certainly a challenge.  If it was Ollie, he would not contact me at all.  He always found me, or he would send me clues or something to see if I was able to solve the mystery, you know, playing with the young student. So, it wasn’t Ollie.   But who?

I decided to go.  I packed my Glock 19, on a belt holder, under a loose-fitting shirt, because I imagined it was Veronica and she had her shiny gun to do the talking for her and throw me in her car and take me away somewhere dark and hidden, to interrogate me. Truth is though, with that delicious feminine smorgasbord doing the interrogating, at least I could devour a nice view while I was being interrogated.

I walked into the bar and there was only a small family of four eating their German Kraut and Schnitzel and pops was enjoying his mug of Warfsteiner and trying not to look at the waitresses wearing their cute Austrian dresses. There was a couple at the end of the bar, staring at each other and the girl had a foam mustache from her beer.   So, I decided this was safe enough, but Ollie taught me to sit on the far end, if possible, close to the doors for escape. 

So, I did

And I ordered a Guinness.

The bartender said, “Are you Carson?”

I thought it about it for a while then thought, why not, I was here, just let it happen.

“Yes.”

“Well sir, your beer is already purchased and I’ll bring it out in a little while.  Maybe I can interest you in some salty pretzels until your party arrives.:

“No thanks.  What do you mean party?”

After a few minutes I felt a gentle tap on my left shoulder, and as Ollie taught me, I looked in the opposite direction of the tap, and there was the old man sitting next to me on the right.

“Glad you could make it Carson.  Been a while.” The waiter then placed the two Guinness beers Ollie already purchased, in front of the two men.

“Ollie, you do surprise me sometimes, and I was damn apprehensive about coming, but something inside me told me to come.”

“Right.  That’s what I thought.  I knew you would come, because a few years ago, I planted that powerful seed inside you to take a chance, if your soul felt it was worth it. They used to call it a sixth sense, but yours is a little more powerful than just six now because it’s obvious you think, but finally, you feel.  Now, we’ve got a lot of work to do, or at least I do and time is running out.  Thanks for bringing your little notebook.  I’m going to start giving you a little bit to write about, as I promised you a few years ago.  It’s time now, and I trust you.”

“Ok, I’m ready.  But first, can you tell me your real name?”

The Shadow man in the back corner still owned sharp ears, and when he heard that request, he looked up from his book and didn’t hide that he was listening intently.

Ollie smiled, took a drink and shook his head. “You did not need to bring your Glock.”

© 2026 SRCarson