Chapter 2
The first thing Fiona saw was the dark shade of a ceiling.
It was the same ceiling as always; she was sure of it. She turned her head to look out the window, at a morning as scheduled as it had been forever. She sat up, looking around. Nothing was different.
So what was this feeling she had that something had changed?
Fiona laughed to herself. She was being silly. Nothing ever changed. Not really.
Except…
She stood, troubled. And it happened.
As she turned toward the door, her head twisting to look at the smooth paneling, a wisp of her hair fluttered in front of her eyes.
Fiona froze, her breath catching in astonishment. She reached back to pull more of her hair over her shoulder.
Something had changed.
She had changed.
Fiona leaned against the wall, her head spinning. Was something wrong with her? What was this peculiar difference? She couldn't quite explain it, even to herself.
Her hands fumbled with the doorknob as she tried to calm down. She would ask her Family Unit; they would know.
Fiona pulled open the door and walked steadily to the table, where her Father and Mother were already seated. Bruno, her brother, sat on the floor with his comfort object a little ways away.
"There you are Fiona," her Mother said mildly. "We were beginning to wonder."
As her Family Unit turned to look at her with slight smiles and curious eyes, she braced herself for their astonishment, for their questions – what had she done to her hair?
But as she watched, they only sat contentedly at the table. As if nothing was different.
Her Father cleared his throat, and Fiona was shaken from her stupor. "I apologize for making you wait."
"We accept your apology." Their voices were steady and in unison. There was no betrayal of surprise.
Fiona hesitated. "You… you don't notice anything… different?"
Her Father frowned slightly. "Different?" He studied her closely, then chuckled. "I think you've gotten a bit taller since the last time the Council recorded your height. We'll have to look into that.
"Is that what you mean?" He added.
Fiona's hand twitched at her side. They couldn't see it. What was the matter with her? "Yes Father. That is all." She smiled through her dread.
"Well, if that's it, sit down and eat. You'll be late for school." Her Mother reminded her.
Fiona nodded, pushing her uncertainty aside, and slid back into her morning routine.
The House of Old was only a few short paces away when a man stepped in front of her.
Fiona stopped, surprised and disgruntled. The Elders would be disappointed if she was late, and it had been a tedious day at school. She had been freshly startled with every student who approached her; not one seemed to notice the change that was painstakingly obvious to her. She looked forward to her work.
"Excuse me," She said politely, but he did not step aside. As she examined his gray hair and tired eyes, she recognized him vaguely. He had spoken for Jonas at the Emergency Gathering. Fiona felt a wave of sadness as she recalled the event, and the question that had been tugging at her heart insistently ever since that night.
What had made him leave?
"Hello Fiona." The man said slowly. She stared for a moment. There was emotion in his steady gaze, more than she had ever seen in a citizen. The Community was controlled and content, always.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling a bit dizzy. Was she sick? Maybe she could ask her mother later for some relief – of – pain pills. Perhaps that would solve the curious alteration of her hair as well…
Fiona's eyes widened. Her stirring pills! She had forgotten to taken them in her rush.
"I… I apologize sir. I seem to be a bit out of sorts at the moment." She said distractedly.
"It's quite all right. May I ask what is troubling you?"
She avoided his eyes, looking down at the ground. "Pardon my reluctance, but you may think me mad if I tell you." She said quietly.
"Hardly," He chuckled. "But if you insist, I won't press the matter. If I could, I'd like to speak with you somewhere more private."
Fiona glanced upward, surprised. Privacy was not entitled to the citizens. "I would, sir, but the Elders are expecting me."
"I will send a message telling them you will not be coming to assist them today." The man said dismissively. "Now, if you'll follow me."
He started forward. She sighed, and followed close behind, nervous as he turned to circle behind the House Of Old. Fiona could see now they were entering the Annex, a building she hadn't been to before.
A woman sitting behind a desk, with her hands folded neatly on the polished surface, greeted them.
"This is my receptionist, Caroline. Caroline, this is Fiona. She'll be spending some time with me today."
"Welcome Fiona," the woman smiled warmly, and nodded in acknowledgement of the Giver's words.
As the second door swung open, Fiona catches a glimpse of Caroline answering a phone call. Phones were rare in the community, not present in any dwelling.
The Giver gently shut the door and gestured toward the couch. "Please, sit."
She obliged, the soft fabric surprising her. It was more comfortable than the standard furniture.
"Now then," He said, sitting heavily in his chair across from Fiona. "What is on your mind?"
She hesitated. "I feel different." Fiona said finally. "I mean… ever since the Emergency Gathering I've been upset. No, not upset…" She struggled to find a word.
"Uneasy?" He suggested, and Fiona nodded.
"I don't understand why Jonas would want to… why he'd…" she lowered her gaze. "I apologize. I know we aren't supposed to speak of him. But I don't understand."
"It's quite all right Fiona." He said kindly. "The rules of the Community don't quite apply to this room."
"Do you see it?" She blurted out, then flinched.
"See what?"
Fiona bit her lip. "My hair. It isn't the same. I don't know how and I can't quite explain it, but no one else sees it." Her voice had slipped into a tone of desperation.
The Giver stared calculatingly at her for several moments. He looked slightly perturbed.
"Sir?" Fiona says curiously.
"I do see it." He replied, and she relaxed.
"What is it?" Fiona asked. "Is something wrong with me? How do I describe–"
"You're starting to see something called color. I do not know if you will eventually see all the colors, or if only this has been given to you. Only Jonas originally had the ability, but now that he is gone…"
"Wait," she interjected, too startled to worry about being rude. "Jonas could see these colors?"
"Yes. And, coincidentally, the first he received was the lovely shade of red your hair possesses." The Giver smiled wearily.
Fiona's gaze drifted down as she took in this information. "Jonas knew things the rest of us didn't." She said. It wasn't a question; she was thinking back to his expression all those days ago, when he stumbled into Asher's shooting game.
"Yes," The Giver repeats, nodding. "And soon, so will you. So will the entire Community."
His voice was suddenly grave. He leaned forward, his words quiet and urgent. "It is beginning. Right now it is just the color red, but soon it will evolve into chaos, and I can't control it alone."
He was starting to confuse her. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't–"
"Understand. No one does." His laugh was harsh. "But they will. They'll see, every last one of them."
Fiona was beginning to feel scared, real fear that she had never experienced before. She tried to be brave, to make sense of his words. "Did… did Jonas understand?"
The Giver stopped, his eyes snapping back into his steady gaze, though it seemed saddened. He leaned back. "Jonas was the key to it all, Fiona. He saved us." He seemed to be trying to convince himself. "Yes. It had to be done.
"Were you very close?" He inquired, and Fiona nodded.
"We were good friends. We'd ride our bikes together to and from school. Also along the river." She shrugged. "I rather miss him, but I am quite busy with the Elders, so I suppose I don't have much recreation time to spend anymore."
"That isn't close." The Giver told her flatly, much to her surprise. He looked almost angry for a moment, his eyes darkening, but then shook his head. "The fault isn't yours. You don't have the capability to become close with another citizen. That is, after all, how the Community works." He sounds bitter.
Through Fiona's bewilderment, she felt a twinge of annoyance. "If you'll excuse me, Giver, I do not appreciate your accusation. I liked spending time with Jonas, I believe I have quite a lot of capacity to do whatever I please with, and I believe there isn't any fault with the way citizens communicate within the Community.
"I apologize for my forwardness." She added softly.
The Giver smiled. "Don't apologize."
There was a silence.
"Giver…" Fiona finally murmured, "I'd like to know what is beginning. This talk, it's quite confusing and I want to understand. Can you explain?"
"I can."
There was a sudden sound, a short buzzing. Fiona jumped.
The Giver rose and walked to the door, pulling it open. Caroline stood in the doorway, her expression grim. "Sir, the Chief Elder would like to speak with you. He's arriving any minute."
The Giver looked impassively at her. "Thank you Caroline."
Fiona stood. "I suppose I should leave." She says, uncertain.
"I apologize, this meeting is as unexpected for me as you. If you'd like, you can come back around this time tomorrow, instead of continuing your normal procedure, and I will answer your questions. Thank you for your time Fiona."
She recognized his words as a dismissal, nodded in farewell, and left.
