But always, when he returned, strapped the uncomplaining toddler into the seat again, and remounted, his legs were ready.
So he had enough strength of his own, and had not needed what The Giver might have provided, had there been time.
But when the planes came, he wished that he could have received the courage. He knew they were search planes.
They flew so low that they woke him with the noise of their engines,
and sometimes, looking out and up fearfully from the hiding places, he could almost see the faces of the searchers.
He knew that they could not see color, and that their flesh, as well as Gabriel’s light golden curls,
would be no more than smears of gray against the colorless foliage.
But he remembered from his science and technology studies at school that the search planes used heat-seeking devices
which could identify body warmth and would hone in on two humans huddled in shrubbery.
So always, when he heard the aircraft sound, he reached to Gabriel and transmitted memories of snow, keeping some for himself.
Together they became cold; and when the planes were gone, they would shiver, holding each other, until sleep came again.
Sometimes, urging the memories into Gabriel, Jonas felt that they were more shallow, a little weaker than they had been.
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