Page 70 - The Myth and the Moment

Evening

There. Did that sound like lunatic ravings? Don’t ask a lunatic.
“You mean a time capsule? That’s been done, you know.”
“Yes, I know. Those abbreviated department stores may yield
some clues to our material culture, and probably lead to certain
conclusions regarding our social relationships, our commercial
institutions, our technological development. If they survive. I also
expect the Mormon genealogies and the accounting records of our
larger corporations to remain intact in the salt mines several thousand
feet below ground level; they, too, will provide a limited picture of
the American Way. But again, only as raw material, to be dealt with as
facts requiring interpretation.”
“And you are going to take care of that, eh?”
Uh-oh. I’m losing him. Disbelief is fading into sarcasm.
“Yes. Nobody else is. Those papers you stole include the final
typeset version of my testament, ready for the engraver. I’ve spent
months writing, revising, choosing words with the greatest care,
removing phrases and concepts I judge too idiomatic to decipher
easily. The point, Phil, whether or not you understand or believe
anything I’ve just said, is that I value what I’ve written more than any
treasure on earth, more than anything you could possibly tempt me
with to give it up.”
“But, this is fantastic. What a story! I can see it as a two-hour
made-for-TV movie: Across the Barriers of Time. You wouldn’t have to
change much; put in an unsympathetic wife and a couple of cute but
obnoxious children, plus a corps of obstructive bureaucrats, and
maybe a priest who tries to save your marriage, I don’t know what,
and then—”
Bong! Bong! Bong!
What the hell!
“Relax, Nate. Just the dinner gong. I mean it’s a real gong we
found in an antiques shop in Hong Kong. Quite a sound, eh? Let me
tell her we’re on our way. You want to wash your hands? Down the
hall on your right, second door.”
That son-of-a-bitch didn’t listen to me! So why should he start
now, Nathan, you poor sucker. He has no intention of surrendering
the documents, never did, never will. Oh, why didn’t I get into some
more useful line of work, like safe-cracking? My mother warned me:
don’t just count on your book-learning to make you a living, you hear

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