and when I tried before to train a successor, I failed. Please ask any questions that will help you.”
In his mind, Jonas had questions. A thousand. A million questions.
As many questions as there were books lining the walls. But he did not ask one, not yet.
The man sighed, seeming to put his thoughts in order. Then he spoke again.
“Simply stated,” he said, “although it’s not really simple at all, my job is to transmit to you all the memories I have within me.
Memories of the past.”
“Sir,” Jonas said tentatively, “I would be very interested to hear the story of your life, and to listen to your memories.
“I apologize for interrupting,” he added quickly. The man waved his hand impatiently.
“No apologies in this room. We haven’t time.”
“Well,” Jonas went on, uncomfortably aware that he might be interrupting again,
“I am really interested, I don’t mean that I’m not. But I don’t exactly understand why it’s so important.
I could do some adult job in the community, and in my recreation time
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