Then he checked those outside Food Distribution; it was always fun to help with the deliveries,
and he hoped he would find his friend there so that they could go together on the daily rounds,
carrying the cartons of supplies into the dwellings of the community.
But he finally found Asher’s bicycle— leaning, as usual, instead of upright in its port, as it should have been—at the House of the Old.
There was only one other child’s bicycle there, that of a female Eleven named Fiona.
Jonas liked Fiona. She was a good student, quiet and polite,
but she had a sense of fun as well, and it didn’t surprise him that she was working with Asher today.
He parked his bicycle neatly in the port beside theirs and entered the building.
“Hello, Jonas,” the attendant at the front desk said. She handed him the sign-up sheet and stamped her own official seal beside his signature.
All of his volunteer hours would be carefully tabulated at the Hall of Open Records.
Once, long ago, it was whispered among the children, an Eleven had arrived at the Ceremony of Twelve
only to hear a public announcement that he had not completed the required number of volunteer hours
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