Terry made his way down the street, finally finding the building he was looking for. “The O’Hara Pub… yep, this is the place!” Terry quickly crossed the street, and opened the door the almost historical looking building. Terry looked around the place, taking note of his surroundings.
“Huh…” he remarked to himself. “The place is almost empty. I thought it’d be pretty busy at this hour…” Terry took a few more steps forward.
A voice came from behind the large counter. “…That’s because I’m closin’ ‘er up early today, laddie. Sorry, me boy, but me wife’ll be here any time to pick me up. We’re takin’ our granddaughter and her friends to see the sights, what with them not bein’ from around here an’ all. It’s a special occasion.” The old man smiled as he polished a glass with a rag that looked like it had been used a thousand times before.
“Oh, sorry to bother…” Terry began to turn and leave, but stopped himself. “You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. McDonald, would you?” Terry looked back at the man.
“…And what if I am, laddie? Who might you be, anyway?” The old man set the glass down on the bar.
Terry smiled, and had a seat at the bar next to the man. “My name’s Terry Cramer. I’m a friend of your granddaughter Rachel and her friends, and your daughter Brenda is my P.E. teacher at school.”
Th man’s facial expression lightened up. “Is that so, me boy? What a small world it is.” He patted the boy on the back. The man bent down and pulled a bottle from under the counter, popped the top off, and filled the glass he had just been polishing. “Here, have yerself a drink, lad.”
“Heh, thank you.” Terry smiled. “I wanted to see an Irish pub when I cam over here.” Terry began to pull his wallet out from his pocket.
“No, no, no, laddie. This one is on me. Put yer money away.”
“Oh, thanks Mr. McDonald.” Terry picked up the glass that was placed in front of him, and squinted as the burning liquid slid down his throat.
“That’s not that sissy stuff you’ve got back home, lad. It’ll put hair on your chest.” Mr. McDonald picked up the phone. “Here, let me tell the girls you’re here, lad. They can see you when they come ta get me.” The man dialed his home pone number on the classic rotary phone, most likely placed there for historical effect.
A red alarm went off in the back of Terry’s mind. Should he be meeting the girls this soon? What would he tell them if they got suspicious? Or, could now be the right time to tell them what he knew, with the pub so empty and private?
“Hello, mother.” The man listened to the woman on the other end. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. I just called ta let ye know we have one of the girls’ mates down here at the pub. I figured the girls could pop in an’ say hi when you came to pick me up.” The man listened for a few more seconds. “Alright. Alright. Love you too.” The man hung up the phone. “They’ll be here shortly, lad.” The man chuckled.
Terry finished off his free drink. Well, whatever he was thinking, it was too late for action now. The girls would be here soon, and he’d just have to handle the situation on the fly. “Thanks.” Terry smiled at the old man.