When Jonas woke again, the late morning sun was shining in the window. Jonas got up and looked at the room. He discovered some clothes laid out for him on the dresser and a door that led to a small bathroom. After the luxury of a hot bath, and changing into the clothes (Blue trousers! An orange tunic!) Jonas ventured into the hall. He could hear voices coming from downstairs, and he followed them.
"Oh, Jonas!" Charity said. "You're up! And just in time for lunch." She dashed past him up the stairs.
A woman came forward. "Pleased to meet you, Jonas. I'm Charity's mother, Barbara. Scott and Matt should be in in a moment. They're shoveling the walk."
Just then the door opened and two men came in, laughing and stomping the snow off of their boots. Both of them shook Jonas' hand. Scott, Charity's father, smiled at him warmly. Matt, Charity's older brother, looked to be about eighteen. Both had Charity's brilliant green eyes, but Matt's hair was black, like Barbara's.
"I'm glad I came home over Christmas break," he said. "I wouldn't have wanted to miss the excitement!"
"Jonas!" There was a pounding on the stairs, and Gabriel ran straight into him. Charity followed him down, grinning.
Jonas scooped Gabriel up, unable to speak. When he looked at Barbara, she was smiling with tears in her eyes.
"Time to eat," she finally said, and they sat down around the table. When they were all settled, they reached out and held hands. The people on either side of Gabe even held his hands. Jonas wondered what was going on as he took the hands of Matt and Charity on either side of him. When they bowed their heads and closed their eyes, he did the same.
"Dear Lord," Scott said quietly, "thank you for the food we are about to receive. Please bless it to the strengthening of our bodies. Amen." Then they began to eat.
The food was something called sandwiches. Jonas imitated Matt in making his. Something called mayonnaise went on the bread, then the bright yellow mustard. Then the slices of cheese, and finally ham. He took a tentative bite... and then a much larger one...
He had three sandwiches in all. He had never appreciated food so much as he did this moment, knowing the gnawing pains of starvation and feeling the satisfaction of a full stomach.
After lunch, Charity cleared the table and then sat with him in the living room. He sat on the couch and she sat on the floor beside him.
"I always thing it's more comfortable than actually sitting on the couch," she said with her ever-ready laugh.
"But couches were made to be sat on," Jonas said.
"Yes, it's ironic, isn't it?"
Jonas wasn't sure what "ironic" meant, and he resolved to get his hands on a dictionary—they must have something of the kind here.
"Why do you go barefoot?" he suddenly asked.
Charity wiggled her toes. "Partly for practical reasons. My bedroom is always an absolute mess; there's stuff all over the flood. It's easier to avoiding stepping on things with shoes off, and I prefer picking my way across the room to cleaning it." She grinned up at him. "Also, I don't like the feeling of my socks falling down. Plus, I'm used to it. I like the freedom of bare feet. I'd go barefoot at school, if they'd let me. Mom's always trying to get me to wear socks and shoes in the house during the winter, but I think she's just about given up, now."
Jonas tried to imagine standing barefoot in his house in the community, and failed. The only time he was ever barefoot was at bedtime and swimming. He also had trouble conceiving a room so messy that one had to pick one's way across it. He was a neat and organized person, but he was surprised to find that the idea of such laziness didn't really bother him. Here it existed because it was allowed. Jonas had only imagined Elsewhere to be a place where people saw color and heard music, where there were choices—from what color tunic to wear in the morning to what job to take, and what spouse. He had imagined a world with animals and war and love and pain and hills, but he hadn't been prepared for a world where people went barefoot around the house simply because it pleased them. He hadn't been prepared for a place where people let their rooms get messy for no reason, where a complete stranger, seeing someone in distress would put her arms around him and comfort him, where a family held hands in a circle before they ate.
Jonas was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the strange animal until it put one foot on his leg. He jumped and stared at the soft thing beside him.
"Miau," it said, and shoved its head against his leg.
"She wants you to pet her," Charity said.
"What is she?" Jonas asked, completely at a loss.
"She's a cat. Her name's Smidgeon. Don't you know what cats are?"
"Smidgeon?" Jonas laughed. "Cats? No. I know birds and horses—that's it."
"It's nice to hear you laugh," Charity said, ignoring his second statement, which Jonas knew had almost certainly puzzled her. She reached up and ran her hand over the cat's head. It—She, Jonas thought—began to make a humming noise.
"She's purring," Charity explained. "It means she's happy."
Tentatively, Jonas ran his hand over Smidgeon's head. She purred louder and stretched her head up to his hand. When he petted her again, she turn around once, snuggled up to his leg, and sighed happily.
"Well. You've made a new friend," Charity said. Gabriel toddled over to Jonas and climbed in his lap. Barbara, who had followed him into the room, laughed. "It's a Kodak moment!" It was perfect—almost. Jonas kicked off his shoes, and smiled.