For the fourth time, or maybe the fifth, the young man at the bar looked at the old man sleeping in the corner booth. His first quick glances had given way to longer, more inquisitive looks. Now he was openly staring. He had that mixed expression young people get when they look at old people - a mixture of amusement, condescension and curiosity.
The old man wasn't rumpled and scuzzy looking. On the contrary, he was clean shaven, his thin gray hair was clean and trimmed, and he was dressed in a normal, plaid flannel shirt. He just happened to be leaning against the wall, snoring lightly as he slept away the quiet afternoon in the corner booth of McGurk's.
Grinning, the young man turned to address the bartender in a low voice.
"I guess some guys start early, huh?"
The bartender glanced over at the old man, then returned his gaze to the young man. There was a moment, then a moment more before the bartender shrugged and went back to washing glasses.
"I just meant it's a little early in the day to be that far gone, you know?" The young man's voice betrayed him, even if his still-grinning face did not. Under the friendly invitation to share the joke, there was a trace of confusion, and perhaps also of embarrassment. He nodded in the old man's direction. "Is he a regular?"
The sound of running water filled in the pause before the bartender answered.
"You don't know who that is?"
"No. Should I?"
The bartender gave another shrug, a complex movement that extended from his fingertips to his elbows and shoulders and that went right up to his eyebrows and the inclination of his head. It was clearly an eloquent encapsulation of some complex expression, an entire set of emotions and life-perspectives conveyed in a moment, but whatever the bartender intended by it, the young man apparently failed to understand.
"Not really. I just thought you might recognize him."
The young man turned and stared at the old man for almost a minute.
"OK, I give up. Who is he?"
"That's Tony Noland."
"Tony who?"
"Tony Noland. With his first book, the New York Times called him the greatest writer of his generation. Later on the critics said he was right up there with Ernest Hemingway, Anthony Trollope and Edith Wharton."
"No kidding?" The young man stared again, his curiosity mixed with new respect. "What did he write?"
"Tony Noland wrote a grand total of seven novels: 'Sunlight Through the Elms', 'The Seas of Tomorrow', 'Where Darkness Grows', 'The Missionary's Position', 'Currents of the Solar Wind', 'The Nation of Love' and 'The Temptation of St. Helen'. Every one of them made the critics weep."
"Wow. So that's Tony Noland, huh?"
"Yep. You ever read any of his books?"
The young man shook his head. "No, not exactly. My English teacher made us read part of 'The Temptation of St. Helen' in sophomore year of high school. I couldn't really get into it. I don't recognize any of the other titles."
Wiping the wet glasses with a rag towel, the bartender gave another shrug.
In the quiet bar, the sounds of light snoring still came from the corner.
"So... he just comes in here and sleeps?"
"He says this is where he wrote all those books. That was thirty years ago, long before I bought the place, but he says this is a good place to get ideas. He still comes here to write. See that notebook computer on the seat beside him? He has a beer or two, takes a little nap then wakes up and starts typing."
"What do you mean, he still writes? I thought Tony Noland must be dead by now. That St. Helen book came out a long time ago. My English teacher said that was his best one, and that he hadn't written anything since."
The bartender didn't respond. All the glasses were washed, dried and put away, ready for the happy hour crowd, still some hours away. He crossed his arms and looked at the young man.
"Have you ever read any of those Buzz Killzip books?"
The young man sat up in surprise. "Buzz Killzip, the robot detective? Sure, I've read 'em all. They're hilarious."
"Did you see the Buzz Killzip movies?"
"Sure, didn't everybody? The first two movies were terrific, but personally, I thought the third one was a little lame. It didn't really capture the spirit of the books, you know?"
"Ever read anything else by Val Janneke?"
"Of course. I've read the Laser Lamonte series, the Antimatter Squad books, and even the Mystic Empire fantasy trilogy. I don't usually go in for swords-and-sorcery, but I liked the way Val Janneke wrote them. I hear they signed Peter Jackson to do the Mystic Empire movies. Why?"
The bartender nodded at the old man in the corner.
"That's Val Janneke, too."
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