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

I am the book keeper

A man came to my home and asked me if I still had some of the old books. I knew that he was referring to the ones that were here from when I bought this house. He pleaded with me and said that they contained his memories.

I told him that I still had a few, a very few in the attic and pointed to the pull down stairs. “Tell me which you are looking for and I’ll see if I have it.” He again pleads with me to look himself.

I know that the books were of the nature that they recorded memories in the way of a story. A story of your life. I did not let anyone into the attic. It is actually an inter dimensional pocket. That pull down stairway was the access. The contents of the attic are books that could, in the wrong hands destroy worlds.

When I move to a house, there in the attic are all the books of everyone that was living in that house. Those are the only ones that remain in the house. All others are kept in the pocket dimension.

His initial assertion was correct but intentions, he has been led astray by the entity that desperately wants to control the information that is contained in the books in my care. The information they contain are for the gods themselves. I am able to read and care for those books to be able to prevent that information being compromised.

The man pushed by me, pulled down the stairs and found nothing but old Christmas ornaments and decorations. The only books up there were from a book club era, and a few porn paperbacks. That man vanishes.

You see, only I have the access to that library. Where I move to it goes with me. It has for the millennia I have been the keeper of the records. Each of those books document one life’s actions, what was done and said. In other words, this universe’s record of you.

To try, like the man did, to force your way in, is to grant your desire. I walk to the shelf where his book is and open it to the last page. There was the date and time underneath a terrified man banging on what, to him, was a clear barrier. Forever trapped. I had to verify that he was captured. Then I closed that book.

I had to file those special ones in that room. It is sound proof and locked. Even I do not go in. There is a deposit door. I put that book in and it may never be seen or opened again.

That Is my task. Each book, I must look at that last page. Almost all have a smiling photo with the last date and time. Only those that trap a prisoner, an evil doer, go into that room. It is a rare occurrence for some book to be released from that room.

That would mean that that one is going to be given a second chance at life. That book goes on a watch shelf. Those are checked out occasionally by the gods to see what that one is doing. I have received a disposition letter on some that the book has been destroyed. That one did not use that second chance for the betterment of their community.

There are the ones that are returned to me that now have gold trim on them. Those go on the reformed shelf. Those are the ones that have led an exemplary second life. A lot of times a heroic life. By that I don’t specifically mean vanquishing foes. There was a bastard noble that was reborn, lived a quiet life but jumped in the path and took a bullet in the head that was meant to assassinate a great leader. His book came out of that room and is in the gold trimmed book case on the special example shelf.

Now that I have had someone try to break in, I need to move.

You may ask why even store them here in the corporeal world? Simple. Like that man, there are some that make deals. The evil one knows that he would be instantly sucked into his book if he even drives by my home. That is the reason I need to leave this location.

When he finds me, there is always someone that wants me to give them one of the old books.

My memories are there. That was my grandmother’s gift and I want it back. Many other excuses for me to show that one the attic stairs. All with the same results.

You may ask, “Why do I do this?” Simple, I love books. I get to read those ones in the attic. Contrary to what you may think, some of the best ones are about individuals that you would pass by without even noticing them.

I will not mention names but why don’t I give you a brief look into those you do not see. You may have heard of……