“What are you doing here?” a hammered Tyson asked Master Gooway as he stepped into the town bar, Cece’s Slingers. Gooway was old but he emitted a youthful, powerful aura. Each movement he made felt as if it had a purpose to it.
“I was looking for the town drunk, and I believe I have found him,” Master Gooway answered calmly as he pulled up a chair next to Tyson.
“And why were you looking for me?” Tyson asked, kind of scared, kind of offended.
“I need you,” Master Gooway said staring into the souls of Tyson’s eyes, “for what you know. For what you have done.”
Tyson jumped to his feet, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he yelled defensively.
Master Gooway chuckled to himself, and patted Tyson’s seat, encouraging him to sit back down.
“Relax, I just need some advice and there is nobody better to go to for advice than the town drunk,” Tyson slowly slunk back into his chair not taking his eyes off the old man, “You are invisible to people who try to ignore and forget you out of their lives. But you hear everything. You see everything. You are the wisest man in Pointe Place.”
A slight smile crept up Tyson’s face. He took a sip of his Jim Beam bourbon. It had been a while since he’d gotten a compliment, “Well, tell me what you need,” he said.
“I am trying to find somebody,” Gooway explained, “I don’t know what they look like but they should be in their 20’s now.”
Tyson looked around the bar. It was a Monday morning, and nobody was there but them and the bartender, busy cleaning shot glasses from Sunday night.
“Well whenever I need help finding something, I go to the library,” Tyson drunkenly advised Gooway, “they’ve got so many resources there. Books, computers, and the Librarians are great!”
“Of course. Thanks for the help,” Master Gooway threw Tyson a twenty, “A token of my appreciation.” He gave Tyson a wink and left.
