I am the book keeper by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

This one, I shake my head at. Not in disgust but in the circumstances at which others see themselves and require others to be the same. When everyone is the same, isn’t that a loss of freedom. Isn’t that really a loss of sanity. Think of a world that has no humor.

Humor savior

Every class has one from the beginning of time. They have been called fools, goof offs, class clown. All just do not know how to stop themselves from acting up. Most times it is pranks and jokes. But did you ever look deep into them.

First almost all are male. Most have been the ones that you never paid attention to other than their antics. Never invited into the circles. Never taken seriously. You will say that is because of the way they act. You would be right, partially, They know the only way they will be noticed is by those actions.

Never to be included. Never noticed otherwise. Actually if you watch them out of the corner of your eye, you would see someone that is so alone as to invite being laughed with but most times being laughed at just to have people acknowledge that he is alive.

Always relegated to the tertiary roles in life. No hope of being elevated to a secondary role. One of the ones that at their end of life, they are the ones that no one realizes they have died. The ones that die in their house and only after the car has not moved for weeks. Only after there is a rotten odor emanating from the house, does anyone call the police.

They find that he has been dead for weeks, even months and his pet dog has eaten half of him. His death is befitting just a character in a game that just is standing there with absolutely no movement.

This is the life that he lived and died in. He was wrong though. Someone did notice him. There is a world out there that has gone very somber, lost the way and now is in dire need for someone that will breathe some life into it. Someone that can change the abysmal atmosphere from black and white to full color.

The gods picked me. That old class clown.

I am now in that fabled room that has been written about by many authors. That white room with absolutely no means of grasping on any sense of dimension. Why do I get the sense that this is on purpose. This is so I focus on that person who has appeared before me.

She is very beautiful and the type that would not even give me a second look.

“I’m sorry for that” she says as she comes up and actually touches me. “You were the victim of your low self esteem. You let people set your worth where you should have been the one to set it.”

For some reason, I now do not care what happens to me. “Don’t you think for one moment that I did not know that? My miserable attempts at trying to be noticed ended up with me being food for a starving pet. Now just cast me into the oblivion. That is where I have lived that thing you called life. That touch was just the final taunt. It was, to me, saying that this is the one and only time you get someone to touch your miserable attempt at life.”

I fall to what feels like the floor. “Just let me pass from existence. Let me finally rest. Leave me alone for gods sake.”

She crouched down and put me into a full hug. I burst out crying as she says that this will not be the last time for physical contact. There is a world that has lost the ability to enjoy. Lost their humor. All they do is work and exist. They do marry, they do procreate. I call it that because they only do that to bring in more sad children. This is where you will be reborn.”

I tell her that it sounds just perfect. “It fits my previous life style. What’s this world’s name, Hell?”

She laughs “How did you guess? No, its name is not important. This world needs humor. When the mage comes in to the birthing room to proclaim your talent, it will almost kill the entire room. She will proclaim that your skill is humor savior.”

Now I am both interested and confused but she continues to fill me in. “Long ago in that world’s history there was a terrible ruler that thought laughter was directed at him. He proclaimed that anyone laughing would be tortured and then executed. There were a lot of people killed because of laughing. Ruler after ruler this has become ingrain in all their characters.”

I can sympathize, “ I know what that is like. I tried to fit in by causing laughter but it only put me further out of their world. How will putting me in that world, getting me killed, help them?”

“That is just it. The powers to be will not be able to touch you. Anyone that laughs with you will have the same protection. It will start with the children. You will be their ethics teacher. That role is to indoctrinate those children into that dower society. That task is supposed to make sure that any enjoyment is squashed out of them. Of course, their parents have already done that but children have an innate ability to rewrite their training. You will trigger that by being the class clown. The school and government will never be able to restrain you. That will carry over to those children. You see, you will be that worlds savior. There will be, from you, generations that will change that world from black and white to technicolor.”

With that, I am a baby that has just been born. I remember my whole past life. The mage comes in and I see that it is the woman. She proclaims that I am the humor savior. All gasp. They know that it is a death sentence.

“This one and his family are now protected by the gods. No one can harm them. No one cannot starve, evict or otherwise ostracize them in any way.”

One of the midwives come over and stabs me. The blade does not even prick me but the midwife now has a knife wound to the heart and dies.

The mage pronounces that any attempt to harm or prevent this one from doing what the gods have ordained will suffer the same. This one will grow and save this world from having this miserable excuse of living being erased.”

Thing is, now the ruling class is warning the people. My family is to be shunned but the people find that the warning of the gods is more frightening than that from the rulers. Those that do not heed that warning and obey what the gods say, find that the rulers cannot touch them.

They also now are god protected. Deep in the recesses of their long deprived souls, those hear a slight chuckle. Seeds have started to be planted.

The ones that have been sent, by the rulers, find that any attempt on hurting anyone that helps my family gets what they try reflected back on them. Just like the midwife. Try what they may, they cannot do anything.

It was the consensus of the rulers that sending me to the ethics class is the only way to get me straightened out. That was, however, a few more years. I was now only three.

By now my family was not as glum as they were. Children from the neighborhood were instructed to not even look at me. In my three year old body but my mind is that of my old world. I had many ways of doing things.

As a child now at the right age for ethics class all of five years old, gas is my weapon of choice. There were always beans, mom made sure that I had my weekly breakfast request. Her wonderful beans and eggs. I always let her know that hers were the best. I could not clarify why I said that.

I can now say it as a fact of two lives, they were the best tasting and best for the results I was looking for. Nothing like a good, smelly, loud fart when the teacher is trying to show us how being somber makes life stable.

Farts are wonderful agents to children especially when it upsets the class. For the first time in a long time, these children, especially the boys, when the toxic effect permeates and causes the girls to hold their noses while fanning the air. Futilely trying to dissipate the odor.

I, in the meantime, am laughing because I see some boys smiling while giving me a thumbs up. It did not take long for others to start to try. Others were surprised when another child let out an almost sonic screamer out. That was the one that caused outright laughter.

This class was lost but all now were protected. The cheek screamer came in the next day with the tale that his family was visited and the guard had been ordered to spank the disorderly child. The guard found that he was the one receiving the pain.

There were a few others with the same tale. God protected.

Later he was telling jokes. The only thing he never showed them is vicious pranks because in his other life, he was the victim of those pranks and a lot were vicious, harmful pranks meant to humiliate him.

Showing that humor is a way to relieve stress and can they lead to resolving some conflicts. Surprisingly he also showed them how good competition is also good stress relief. Always after then fiercest competition, humor and comradery is needed.

During his childhood and becoming an adult, laughter is contagious. The rulers could not contain it. After a while, they had to face the fact the they too were coming down with laughter at some of the things they see and hear. Even the new rulers see that the old sour life was just existing, not living. As a side note, people found they could enjoy procreating.

By the time he was an adult, he was teaching the ethics class now. His class was both serious and fun. He taught that it was okay to laugh. It was okay to be serious. Both are needed to be a real person. That man led a wonderful life and is still remembered as the humor savior.

One final note about that life, that world. This life took place in the long forgotten past. You may ask, how is he remembered? I will give you a hint. That whole world’s population was six inches tall and they are known through out universes. They help the gods.

Still, this one is on the gods shelf. I really think that someday it should be released as a fictional book to the public.

Now I have to move to another location. This time I am going to make sure that I am not looking. Knowing what I know, wouldn’t it be easier for me to just to let the evil one in. After all those failed attempts to get someone to steal what ever book he wants, just to directly ask him which one he wants. Then just slip that one into the room?

I do believe that he really is trying to retrieve his book. If he has his book, it cannot be put into the room. That is not actually a futile gesture but what would happen it is not what he thinks will happen.

You see, my book is in this library. I have never opened it. Never touched it even though it is in plain sight just like his. There are a few on shelves, behind glass walls that would take a mighty force to break. Those books are the gods lives books and all the behind the scenes god realm helpers books. That is where his and mine are.

Those only move from those shelves by one of two actions, final life or oblivion. Only the Supreme Creator can access those books. They are the ones that go to the Supreme’s book shelves if they go to the final life. I have never inquired as to the location of the oblivion ones.

Even if the evil one got in here, only the librarian can touch the books. As I said before, climb the stairs is oblivion.

That is enough. I have more books to read, more to put on their shelf. I do get the feeling that I may want to have my book closed and go to the final life but I do not know if they have a library there. That is why I still hang on, still read. Just stubborn I guess.

Maybe I should just ask.