Chapter I: Memories are forever
"Giver?" Jonas implied.
"Yes, Jonas?" The Giver had been about to transmit another memory of playing baseball, but withdrew his hands when Jonas had spoken. "In the beginning, when I had just become the new receiver, you told me there were different kinds of love."
"I did." It was more of a statement then a question. "You also told me," Jonas continued. "That I was too young to receive it, that I wouldn't understand. I," he paused and looked imploringly at The Giver, who now had a look of deep concentration on his face. "Continue." The giver said, realizing Jonas had stopped.
"I think I'm ready now. That I'm old enough to understand." There was silence as The Giver thought about it. Jonas was certain the Giver would brush it off, telling Jonas as he had many times that he was still too young.
Surprisingly, the Giver smiled and said, "I think you are, too, Jonas. Lye down." Jonas lay back down on the couch he had grown so used to over the years. Thoughts raced through his mind. What would this love feel like? Why would it have been gotten rid of when we went to Sameness? He hadn't much more time to think as the memory took over. Jonas was standing in a dimly lit room with a fire that had burnt out hours ago. The only light was being emitted from two red candles that, Jonas noticed, were set on a table with two plates of food.
Jonas wasn't sure what to do, but instinct told him to go and sit at the table. He waited patiently, confused as to how this was love, but curious to find out what was to happen. Just when he had thought he'd sit there forever, a woman walked into the room. Adorned in a vivid blue dress made of silk, Jonas couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She smiled, sitting down in the other chair, and Jonas smiled back.
Was this what the Giver had been talking about? No, it couldn't have been. Jonas couldn't see this simple interaction being something he wouldn't understand. They ate and talked like old friends, Jonas thankful that the memory provided words for his mouth. The woman, soon after finishing what was on her plate, stood up. Grabbing Jonas' hand, she led him over to the couch that had been positioned in front of the extinguished fire. Jonas looked on, confused, as the woman flipped a switch to light the fire.
Sara, he had finally perceived her name, turned around and smiled, sitting next to him on the couch. Jonas didn't have time to react as she leaned forward to touch her lips to his. It was a sensation Jonas had never felt before and it spread through him like wildfire. He perceived the word as 'kiss'. But there was something else that he wasn't getting. An emotion he was feeling that he didn't understand. All too soon the memory ended, leaving Jonas laying on the bed, oddly satisfied yet confused. "Did you get it?" The Giver inquired.
"I got the action," Jonas said. Then added, "Kiss. But there was an emotion. Something I'd never felt before. What was it?" Jonas turned towards the Giver as he asked. "Passion." The Giver said simply. "It was passion."
"Giver?" Jonas implied.
"Yes, Jonas?" The Giver had been about to transmit another memory of playing baseball, but withdrew his hands when Jonas had spoken. "In the beginning, when I had just become the new receiver, you told me there were different kinds of love."
"I did." It was more of a statement then a question. "You also told me," Jonas continued. "That I was too young to receive it, that I wouldn't understand. I," he paused and looked imploringly at The Giver, who now had a look of deep concentration on his face. "Continue." The giver said, realizing Jonas had stopped.
"I think I'm ready now. That I'm old enough to understand." There was silence as The Giver thought about it. Jonas was certain the Giver would brush it off, telling Jonas as he had many times that he was still too young.
Surprisingly, the Giver smiled and said, "I think you are, too, Jonas. Lye down." Jonas lay back down on the couch he had grown so used to over the years. Thoughts raced through his mind. What would this love feel like? Why would it have been gotten rid of when we went to Sameness? He hadn't much more time to think as the memory took over. Jonas was standing in a dimly lit room with a fire that had burnt out hours ago. The only light was being emitted from two red candles that, Jonas noticed, were set on a table with two plates of food.
Jonas wasn't sure what to do, but instinct told him to go and sit at the table. He waited patiently, confused as to how this was love, but curious to find out what was to happen. Just when he had thought he'd sit there forever, a woman walked into the room. Adorned in a vivid blue dress made of silk, Jonas couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She smiled, sitting down in the other chair, and Jonas smiled back.
Was this what the Giver had been talking about? No, it couldn't have been. Jonas couldn't see this simple interaction being something he wouldn't understand. They ate and talked like old friends, Jonas thankful that the memory provided words for his mouth. The woman, soon after finishing what was on her plate, stood up. Grabbing Jonas' hand, she led him over to the couch that had been positioned in front of the extinguished fire. Jonas looked on, confused, as the woman flipped a switch to light the fire.
Sara, he had finally perceived her name, turned around and smiled, sitting next to him on the couch. Jonas didn't have time to react as she leaned forward to touch her lips to his. It was a sensation Jonas had never felt before and it spread through him like wildfire. He perceived the word as 'kiss'. But there was something else that he wasn't getting. An emotion he was feeling that he didn't understand. All too soon the memory ended, leaving Jonas laying on the bed, oddly satisfied yet confused. "Did you get it?" The Giver inquired.
"I got the action," Jonas said. Then added, "Kiss. But there was an emotion. Something I'd never felt before. What was it?" Jonas turned towards the Giver as he asked. "Passion." The Giver said simply. "It was passion."