To the readers:  This is pure fiction and never happened.   Clint Eastwood’s actual movie quotes are in italics, however. It is written out of respect to the great actor.

Ollie was coming to the bar more frequently now.  He never bought a beer for himself, and the other customers, as always, greeted him, smiled and made sure he had his Guiness in front of him.  They even became accustomed to the ever-present shadow man in the corner, with his baseball cap pulled down low, but not low enough to obstruct his vision.  Some of the long-time customers even offered him beers, but he always smiled, and said, “no thank-you.”  He only drank Iced tea with lemon.

It seemed the mood of the bar always picked up when Ollie was there.  Even though he may not talk to anyone, his presence there just made the place more like home for people—a home away from home where they could see grandpa drink, and occasionally say things that no one else would say, knowing that his blue eyes showed kindness, and a knowledge of life that they would never experience.

“Hey Johnny.  Make sure everyone here is happy. I’ll buy a round for everyone, and if they’re hungry, I’ll buy a couple plates of your greasy sliders for them to pound down with their beer.  “Will do Ollie!  What’s the occasion?  Seems you’ve been here twice in the last week.”  After the bartender said this, he realized he probably asked too many questions of the private, but generous old man.

“I don’t know Johnny.  I just though I needed to be here.  I just thought for some reason, this was a night I needed to come back, because well, I felt I needed to.”

Just then, several people walked in, lead by a tall older man, who appeared younger than Ollie, white hair and a white beard, taller than all the others. His hat said Tehama, and Ollie’s sharp eyes picked up on that immediately, and appreciated that the man took his hat off immediately, when he walked in the building —a sign of respect that was rare. But as always, Ollie was aware of this through his peripheral vision.

The group sat down and started talking about camera angles and reading scripts while Ollie figured out the tall older man must be someone special.  The older man said, “I’ll have a Newcastle Brown Ale”, if you carry it, please.”

“Yes of course sir, we carry 90 types of beers here, foreign and domestic.”

“Excellent.”  Then the other two people with the older man said, “We’ll have what he’s having.”

The man looked down the bar, saw Ollie, the centenarian with Einstein—like white hair and the wooden cane placed by his left leg, and decided to come down to the seat behind him.  After all, it was rare to be in a bar with a man who may be the same age, and who knows, maybe they would have a connection of some type, especially over beer.

“This seat taken sir?” said the tall older man.

“No, be my guest. But I have to warn you—after at least two Guiness mugs, I may talk a little too much, but that man in the corner makes sure I behave myself.”

The man smiled and glanced at the shadow man and said, a good man always knows his limitations.”

When Johnny heard that, he ignored the other patrons next to him, stared at him and said, “You’re Clint Eastwood!”

“Reckon so.”

When the other patrons heard this, they stopped what they were doing, and stared, then realized they would leave the two old men alone, because, after all it was their Ollie.  And now Clint.

“Eastwood huh?” said Ollie.  “Josey Wales was my favorite, although I also liked The Good the Bad and The Ugly, and your Dirty Harry movies as well as that Gran Torino movie.  In fact, I took my men to several of your movies when we were on leave from the action.  They needed the release.”

“Thanks.  I liked the novel about Wales, but the author, unfortunately, may not have been a good man in his personal life, but the movie was successful.”

“That was a good choice, Clint. I’m Ollie.”  They shook hands, then fell silent and drank beer.

“Just Ollie?” said Clint

“Yep.”

“Most people have last names.  But Ollie it is.”

“Keeps it simpler Clint. Less baggage to carry around when people are looking for you.”  He saw that Clint quickly downed his Newcastle Brown Ale, and asked Johnny to give him another, and also his movie production entourage.

“Thanks Ollie.  I’ll get the next one. You said your men.  Were you in the service, Ollie?”

“Army Rangers, and then, some other types of activities after that.”

Eastwood knew there was a lot more, but he didn’t push it.  He didn’t need to. He saw Ollie’s cane.  Seemed they both had lived an active and adventurous life that wasn’t going to be spilled out this night, or maybe ever.

“Did you serve, Clint?”

“Yes, back in 51 I was in the Army.”

“Did you see combat?”

“No, I was lucky Ollie.  I was a lifeguard for the Army, although our plane crashed off the coast of California, and the pilot and I had to swim ashore in the shark infested water, with life rafts.  I was lucky to survive that.”

“I’ll say.  And since then, you’ve made many millions of people happy with your movies, including me. God saved you for a reason it seems, and you have used his gift of life, and talent wisely.”

“Thanks. I assume you saw combat Ollie.”

“Yes.  Multiple wars and lots of bad things.”  Ollie didn’t look at Clint, trying to hide the pain that always came back when he thought about those things.

“Thank you for your service, sir.”

“Likewise, sir.”

Clint then said, “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man.  You take away everything he’s got and everything he’s going to have.

“Yes. But I was told not to do that anymore. Beaucoup dien cai dau.”

Clint stared off, not knowing what to say. What does that mean? 

“It means, much crazy in the head, or crazy situation.  Vietnamese slang.” 

“I see.  And who told you to, um, not kill anymore?”

Ollie said nothing.  Then, after a weighty pause, and a swig on his Guiness, he said, “If you’re still looking for new ideas for movies, I know an author with a couple books, including a thriller, that may interest you.”

“I’m 92 Ollie and will be 93 in May of 2024.  I am directing a movie now in the area.  I’m a guy who loves to find new stories that are interesting, and make you think.  But I don’t know what I’ll do next.  I just don’t want to let the old man in to my soul.  I won’t give him a key.  But I do have a son Scott who acts, and a daughter Alison who directs, and they can do younger roles, and my son Kyle can certainly write musical score.  He got his musical talent from me, I am sure! I even produced an album of cowboy songs when I was on Rawhide, many years ago.  Ha!  But if you have a role for an old man, who knows, I may take you up on it if it’s a damn good story.”

“His name is S.R. Carson.  His thriller is called Blue Shadows.” Oh, and by the way, I am 103, so Clint, you’re just a young guy.”

Clint nearly spit out his beer when her heard that, surprised because Ollie did not look 103.

His entourage came to him, and told him they needed to leave.  He stood up, and then Ollie stood up, cane in left hand to steady himself as always, shook hands, and Clint said, “I’ll look this Carson guy up Ollie, just for you, because I think you understand quality.”

“Thanks.  I am sure Carson would appreciate that.  In fact, I have secured Dr. Carson to write my biography as well, if he ever has the time to do it. I think he needs some encouragement, but I am confident he can do the job correctly.”

“Interesting,” said Clint.  Let’s do this again.  You’re an interesting man.”

“Likewise.”

Clint handed Ollie his card from Malpaso productions, and he left, but on his way out, Ollie said, “Someone in your group has a corvette with the top down, so you better tell them to put the roof up quickly because the rain is coming.” As Clint started to walk out, Ollie thought to himself: this man is a talented actor and director, but I feel deep down, he’s a good man in real life as well.

Sure enough, although the sun was still out, as they walked to their cars, the rain started coming down in torrents. They looked at each other, shocked that Ollie was able to warn them without even looking outside.

©2023 SRCarson Publications.