But the committee would never bother The Receiver with a question about bicycles;
they would simply fret and argue about it themselves for years, until the citizens forgot that it had ever gone to them for study.
His father continued. “So I watched and cheered when my sister, Katya, became a Nine
and removed her hair ribbons and got her bicycle,” Father went on.
“Then I didn’t pay much attention to the Tens and Elevens. And finally, at the end of the second day, which seemed to go on forever, it was my turn.
It was the Ceremony of Twelve.” Jonas shivered.
He pictured his father, who must have been a shy and quiet boy, for he was a shy and quiet man,
seated with his group, waiting to be called to the stage.
The Ceremony of Twelve was the last of the Ceremonies. The most important.
“I remember how proud my parents looked—and my sister, too; even though she wanted to be out riding the bicycle publicly,
she stopped fidgeting and was very still and attentive when my turn came.
“But to be honest, Jonas,” his father said, “for me there was not the element of suspense that there is with your Ceremony.
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