Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: REMEMBER (02/03/22)
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TITLE: Term Limits | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
02/10/22 -
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I had heard he was somewhat of an eccentric, which would seem expected as well as forgiven in a person of his caliber. Nevertheless, I was excited to get started.
A pleasant woman answered the door and led me to a large room filled with books from floor to ceiling. They were so well placed and grouped by topic it could have been a library in a small town.
I was drawn to the fireplace where a nondescript gentleman sat in a high back chair, almost as if he had been posed. I cleared my throat as he looked up from his book.
“Professor Dingleberry?”
His happy smile was welcoming as he offered a slightly shaky hand in a firm grasp.
“Welcome to my inner sanctum, young lady,” he said with a charming smile. I wasn’t that young, but I suppose everything is relative.
His blatant attempt at humor made me relax. I decided to get right to work.
“Have you read all these?” I asked with a flourish of my arm to encompass the whole room.
“From the twinkle in his eyes, I figured the answer would be unexpected and possibly funny.
He did not disappoint. “Ah, my dear. I have written most of them.”
I had no clever response, so I said nothing and sat down in a matching chair to get warm.
After an hour of a dazzling retrospect of his unique experiences, discoveries, and brilliant summations, I could understand why he was so revered in the world of academia. His memory of a time before I was born, or even my parents, was as if it had happened yesterday. He didn’t seem too impressed with my wide-eyed reaction to his seemingly endless knowledge of practically everything. I guess it was nothing new.
Suddenly, he called out, “Molly?”
No one answered. I looked around as he called a little louder.
“Poor old thing can’t hear too well, but I did want you to meet her.”
“Is Molly your wife, Sir?”
His laughter was explosive and charming. “My goodness, NO! She’s my….”
Just then, there was a movement by the window as a large, elderly yellow dog moved slowly to her friend by the fireplace to receive a pat on the head. She glanced at me, clearly unimpressed, and plopped down to go back to sleep.
The famous professor reached for a pipe which he clamped between his teeth but did not light. Suddenly, I had the silliest thought. This scenario seemed like a play about a famous old man giving an interview. Even the dog and flickering fire seemed staged.
It was time to get bold. I took a deep breath and forged ahead.
“I have one more question, Sir.”
He waited with no trace of concern that he would not have an answer. He crossed his thin legs and patted Molly once more. That’s when I saw his slippers. They did not match. Not only that, but he also had them on the wrong feet!
“Well, what’s your question?”
Dare I? Yes, I decided I had to know. “Uh, tell me what you had for breakfast this morning.”
He stared at me for a few seconds and finally admitted, “I have no idea.”
“One more before I go, please, Sir. Is there one book in all you have read or written that answers the most important questions a human can ask?”
Whether or not his short-term memory would fade, and he would not remember me tomorrow or what he had for lunch by tonight was not the point. His grasp of the past and what was truly important was something I will never forget. At least, I hope it stays securely in my long-term brain files.
“Yes. This one.”
I had almost forgotten the last thing I had asked.
“Sir?”
He held the book out for my inspection. Like the professor, the cover was worn and old but still full of genuine teaching. It was inscribed with two words: One was Holy. The other was Bible.
What else was there to say? He had given his final answer.
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