Is that what you want, Lily? Three lazy years, and then hard physical labor until you are old?”
“Well, no, I guess not,” Lily acknowledged reluctantly. Father turned the newchild onto his tummy in the basket.
He sat beside it and rubbed its small back with a rhythmic motion.
“Anyway, Lily-billy,” he said affectionately, “the Birthmothers never even get to see newchildren.
If you enjoy the little ones so much, you should hope for an Assignment as Nurturer.”
“When you’re an Eight and start your volunteer hours, you can try some at the Nurturing Center,” Mother suggested.
“Yes, I think I will,” Lily said. She knelt beside the basket.
“What did you say his name is? Gabriel? Hello, Gabriel,” she said in a singsong voice.
Then she giggled. “Oops,” she whispered. “I think he’s asleep. I guess I’d better be quiet.”
Jonas turned to the school assignments on his desk. Some chance of that, he thought. Lily was never quiet.
Probably she should hope for an Assignment as Speaker, so that she could sit in the office with the microphone all day, making announcements.
He laughed silently to himself, picturing his sister droning on in the self-important voice that all the Speakers seemed to develop,
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