“And back and back and back,” Jonas said, knowing the phrase that always came.
The Giver smiled, though his smile was oddly harsh. “That’s right. And next it will be you. A great honor.”
“Yes, sir. They told me that at the Ceremony. The very highest honor.”
Some afternoons The Giver sent him away without training.
Jonas knew, on days when he arrived to find The Giver hunched over, rocking his body slightly back and forth,
his face pale, that he would be sent away.
“Go,” The Giver would tell him tensely. “I’m in pain today. Come back tomorrow.”
On those days, worried and disappointed, Jonas would walk alone beside the river.
The paths were empty of people except for the few Delivery Crews and Landscape Workers here and there.
Small children were all at the Childcare Center after school, and the older ones busy with volunteer hours or training.
By himself, he tested his own developing memory. He watched the landscape for glimpses of the green
that he knew was embedded in the shrubbery; when it came flickering into his consciousness,
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