The truth is, I don’t go to bars much at all, actually rarely, but now it seems that I’m becoming a frequent visitor at that beach bar where Ollie taught me to “respect the beer.”  Although the cold beer is tasty, there’s nothing special about the bar, except that of course, I learned a lot about Ollie during that short visit earlier.  I suppose I go there hoping from a surprise visit from this cane-wielding Einstein look alike, but after multiple visits, I have come up short, so I walked out after one beer and some pretzels, and as I entered the door way, in walked Ollie.

“Ah, Carson,” said Ollie.  “How much beer did you respect today.”

I quickly tried to catch my breath that was vacuumed out of my lungs by his sudden appearance, and then, once it came back, I said, “Hey Ollie, great to see you.  How was the beach today?”

He didn’t answer, but just took his cane and used it to point to the end of the bar, closest to the door, and said, “I’ll buy you another one Carson.”

Of course.  I obeyed and sat on his left, at the very end of the bar, and he kept his cane on the right, leaning against a chair within his reach. “Ollie, there’s a lot of empty chairs at this bar, but why do you want me, actually us, sitting at the very end?”

“Did you notice where the exits are Carson, and for that matter, at this location we can see the whole bar through our peripheral vision?”

I must admit, I had not taken any of this into consideration, just the inconvenience of it all, and then he said, “Always be aware of your surroundings, because if things go sour, you need to have a plan for exit or defense.  I’m surprised you didn’t think of that Carson.”

He raised a good point, so, not knowing what else to say, I muttered, “I reckon so.”

“Ok Josey Wales. Eastwood created a good character.  But you’re still a good man.  Here’s your beer, Guinness as I remember.”

I took a long, gulpy quaff of my Guinness, hoping the few seconds that act took would somehow clear my head enough to follow this man’s interesting take on life and figure out a reasonable question for him.  Somehow, I knew I would learn something again with this beer conversation if I was lucky.

And there it was again, the beers kept coming to Ollie from other patrons and they all smiled and waved to him, and I figured this must be the reason he enjoyed coming here, perhaps, besides the beer. But I noticed a man in a baseball cap, sitting at a booth behind us, wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt that demonstrated that he knew his way around a gym but the shirt only partially hid the end of the tattoo on his upper arm.   I glanced back at him again, and it appeared that the lower part of the tattoo was the end of a dagger. He kept looking straight ahead, and seemed engrossed in some reading material, but then, his head remained straight up as he read, with arms outstretched in front of him.  I thought that was an odd way to read, and not only that, it seemed most people didn’t read papers anymore, just print and pretty images on their ever-present cell phones.  But he had no phone, at least none that I could see and most obviously, he did not participate in the waving to Ollie, that the other patrons displayed.

Ollie didn’t even turn around after my staring episode, then said, “Did you enjoy the view, Carson?”

This old guy was so damn perceptive.  It seemed he knew everything I did before I did, or even scarier perhaps, what I was thinking before I thought it.

“Well Ollie, I just noticed that guy in the booth looked a little strange, that’s all. I guess in some ways, you may have taught me to size people up during our short visits.”

“Ah, you noticed him.  I wondered when you finally would wake up and notice.”

Once again, I marveled within myself at how sharp this centenarian was. Sharp, perceptive, confident, and yet at the same time, a bit spiritual in some difficult to describe way.

“Does he bother you, Carson?”

“A little.  He gives me the creeps a little.”

“Don’t worry.  He’s just doing his job.”

“Job?  What job?”

“Carson, he is what I have learned to know quite well as a Shadow Man. Guys like him, for many years it seems, have been near me or around me, trying to blend in.  They don’t talk to me, unless of course, there’s something I do to make them talk but, in general, they stay out of my way.  They are though, a pain in the ass and for a while they left after certain things cooled down, then, they came back. I know how to get rid of them, and did that in the past, multiple times when I wanted, but now, it’s not worth the effort anymore. I know they are retired special operators just doing their job, but you know, over the years, it seemed I never had complete privacy, you know, to have a date with a woman, or play golf, or even go to the bathroom. without being watched.”

“I see.  But when I met you on the beach that day, when the airplane dipped his wings to you, where was the shadow man?”

“He was there.  You just were not looking for him, or one of his colleagues.”

“The pilot?”

“Ha ha.  You’re asking too many questions Carson. Maybe so, maybe not.”

“Ok Ollie, but if they are a pain in the ass, why do you tolerate this, and what is their purpose?”

“My son, because of my past, they have been assigned to watch me.  Not necessarily to protect me, although they might, if I needed help, but mostly they take turns watching me so I don’t talk too much I guess, or compromise sensitive stuff that I may or may not know. But I never do that anyway. After all, I am over 106 years old, who or what could I harm?”

“I have the same question, Ollie.”   I reached over and grabbed a second beer because I was feeling butterflies in my stomach about this bad-ass centenarian.  “But, why do you need protection?”

“As I said, they are not necessarily near me to protect me, but instead, to watch me. They know I can defend myself, that’s not the problem.  My muscles may be old and weaker and I am slower, but I can defend myself in other ways, that are more subtle.  It goes both ways, I guess.  Are they watching me to protect what I say to people who don’t need to know, or are they watching me for other reasons that may be more nefarious I suppose, on rare occasions, but it all depends on what their bosses have on their agenda.  It’s sometimes difficult for me to sort out over the years, Carson, even now.”

“Ok, so how do you defend yourself then?  You walk with a cane and you are 106?  But more important, is who on earth could possibly want to hurt you Ollie?  These people in the bar all love you it seems.”

“Maybe so my son.  But what has become obvious to me though, is that the shadow men are watching me much closely now.”

“Why?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

“I haven’t talked to them yet, and I won’t, unless I get tired of it, but I feel they don’t like that you are spending time close to me Carson.  But here’s what you need to know. We all have enemies and we all have friends, but in the end, we must be true to ourselves, and to the almighty God. We are here for a reason, whatever that reason is, and if you are given a gift from heaven, use it and maximize it, but do it for the benefit of others and mankind.  If you are strong, defend those who cannot defend themselves, and you must give love and show love, not looking to receive it, because if you cannot be a positive influence in life, why are you here?”

I looked at him and after this statement, my tongue could not form any words. And he seemed to sense this.

“Carson, I’m going home to take my afternoon nap. Be well.”

SRCarson, 2022