The Giver, Gathering Blue, Messenger, Son. Lois Lowry

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      NOW, FOR THE first time in his twelve years of life, Jonas felt separate, different. He remembered what the Chief Elder had said: that his training would be alone and apart.

      But his training had not yet begun and already, upon leaving the Auditorium, he felt the apartness. Holding the folder she had given him, he made his way through the throng, looking for his family unit and for Asher. People moved aside for him. They watched him. He thought he could hear whispers.

      “Ash!” he called, spotting his friend near the rows of bicycles. “Ride back with me?”

      “Sure.” Asher smiled, his usual smile, friendly and familiar. But Jonas felt a moment of hesitation from his friend, an uncertainty.

      “Congratulations,” Asher said.

      “You too,” Jonas replied. “It was really funny, when she told about the smacks. You got more applause than almost anybody else.”

      The other new Twelves clustered nearby, placing their folders carefully into the carrying containers on the backs of the bikes. In each dwelling tonight they would be studying the instructions for the beginning of their training. Each night for years the children had memorised the required lessons for school, often yawning with boredom. Tonight they would all begin eagerly to memorise the rules for their adult Assignments.

      “Congratulations, Asher!” someone called. Then that hesitation again. “You too, Jonas!”

      Asher and Jonas responded with congratulations to their groupmates. Jonas saw his parents watching him from the place where their own bicycles were waiting. Lily had already been strapped into her seat.

      He waved. They waved back, smiling, but he noticed that Lily was watching him solemnly, her thumb in her mouth.

      He rode directly to his dwelling, exchanging only small jokes and unimportant remarks with Asher.

      “See you in the morning, Recreation Director!” he called, dismounting by his door as Asher continued on.

      “Right! See you!” Asher called back. Once again, there was just a moment when things weren’t quite the same, weren’t quite as they had always been through the long friendship. Perhaps he had imagined it. Things couldn’t change, with Asher.

      The evening meal was quieter than usual. Lily chattered about her plans for volunteer work; she would begin, she said, at the Nurturing Centre, since she was already an expert at feeding Gabriel.

      “I know,” she added quickly, when her father gave her a warning glance, “I won’t mention his name. I know I’m not supposed to know his name.

      “I can’t wait for tomorrow to come,” she said happily.

      Jonas sighed uneasily. “I can,” he muttered.

      “You’ve been greatly honoured,” his mother said. “Your father and I are very proud.”

      “It’s the most important job in the community,” Father said.

      “But just the other night, you said that the job of making Assignments was the most important!”

      Mother nodded. “This is different. It’s not a job, really. I never thought, never expected—” She paused. “There’s only one Receiver.”

      “But the Chief Elder said that they had made a selection before, and that it failed. What was she talking about?”

      Both of his parents hesitated. Finally his father described the previous selection. “It was very much as it was today, Jonas – the same suspense, as one Eleven had been passed over when the Assignments were given. Then the announcement, when they singled out the one—”

      Jonas interrupted. “What was his name?”

      His mother replied, “Her, not his. It was a female. But we are never to speak the name, or to use it again for a newchild.”

      Jonas was shocked. A name designated Not-to-Be-Spoken indicated the highest degree of disgrace.

      “What happened to her?” he asked nervously.

      But his parents looked blank. “We don’t know,” his father said uncomfortably. “We never saw her again.”

      A silence fell over the room. They looked at each other. Finally his mother, rising from the table, said, “You’ve been greatly honoured, Jonas. Greatly honoured.”

      Alone in his sleepingroom, prepared for bed, Jonas opened his folder at last. Some of the other Twelves, he had noticed, had been given folders thick with printed pages. He imagined Benjamin, the scientific male in his group, beginning to read pages of rules and instructions with relish. He pictured Fiona smiling her gentle smile as she bent over the lists of duties and methods that she would be required to learn in the days to come.

      But his own folder was startlingly close to empty. Inside there was only a single printed sheet. He read it twice.

      JONAS

      RECEIVER OF MEMORY