I could come and listen to the stories from your childhood. I’d like that.
Actually,” he added, “I’ve done that already, in the House of the Old.
The Old like to tell about their childhoods, and it’s always fun to listen.”
The man shook his head. “No, no,” he said. “I’m not being clear.
It’s not my past, not my childhood that I must transmit to you.”
He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the upholstered chair.
“It’s the memories of the whole world,” he said with a sigh.
“Before you, before me, before the previous Receiver, and generations before him.”
Jonas frowned. “The whole world?” he asked. “I don’t understand.
Do you mean not just us? Not just the community? Do you mean Elsewhere, too?”
He tried, in his mind, to grasp the concept. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand exactly.
Maybe I’m not smart enough. I don’t know what you mean when you say ‘the whole world’ or ‘generations before him.’
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