Once again he saw the face of the light-haired, bloodied soldier as life left his eyes.
The memory came back. He killed it! My father killed it! Jonas said to himself, stunned at what he was realizing.
He continued to stare at the screen numbly. His father tidied the room.
Then he picked up a small carton that lay waiting on the floor, set it on the bed, and lifted the limp body into it.
He placed the lid on tightly. He picked up the carton and carried it to the other side of the room.
He opened a small door in the wall; Jonas could see darkness behind the door.
It seemed to be the same sort of chute into which trash was deposited at school.
His father loaded the carton containing the body into the chute and gave it a shove.
“Bye-bye, little guy,” Jonas heard his father say before he left the room. Then the screen went blank.
The Giver turned to him. Quite calmly, he related,
When the Speaker notified me that Rosemary had applied for release, they turned on the tape to show me the process.”
There she was—my last glimpse of that beautiful child—waiting. They brought in the syringe and asked her to roll up her sleeve.
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