He pushed the plunger very slowly, injecting the liquid into the scalp vein until the syringe was empty.
“All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jonas heard his father say cheerfully.
He turned aside and dropped the syringe into a waste receptacle.
Now he cleans him up and makes him comfy, Jonas said to himself,
aware that The Giver didn’t want to talk during the little ceremony.
As he continued to watch, the newchild, no longer crying, moved his arms and legs in a jerking motion.
Then he went limp. His head fell to the side, his eyes half open. Then he was still.
With an odd, shocked feeling, Jonas recognized the gestures and posture and expression.
They were familiar. He had seen them before. But he couldn’t remember where.
Jonas stared at the screen, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.
The little twin lay motionless. His father was putting things away. Folding the blanket. Closing the cupboard.
Once again, as he had on the playing field, he felt the choking sensation.
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