"Now you must go back to the Community, but you must go into hiding," continued the old man, running a hand through his white hair as his aqua-blue eyes flew to the ceiling. "I would advise you to stay with your friend Isabel for the present."
Marie paused, undecided, biting her lip as she snuck a glance past the old man. "H-How did you know about Isabel?" she asked slowly, bringing her gaze up to the old man's.
He
smiled. "I know more than you would suspect for one so old," he
replied mysteriously. Then he grew serious again. "You will try
to bring news of the world outside to the residents of the Community.
You will return in a few months."
"How?" Marie asked,
troubled. "How will I get here?"
The old man smiled again, fleetingly. "You will know when you are ready. I will keep Cecelia with me for now; the time is ripe to leave. Go, and help your fellow citizens seek a better life."
Marie rose on trembling legs, clasping her hands with a dutiful bow. "I will go now, er-"
His expression grave but his tone gentle, he replied, "You will know me as The Giver."
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Oddly enough, Marie found a silver bicycle when she exited the house the Giver lived in – a small black three-storey-high dwelling that was invisible from the Community. Three stories? she thought, shocked and amazed. Where she came from, every house looked exactly the same and was exactly two stories high. It was different, but in a good way.
Marie chewed her lip as she retrieved a note that had been tied to the bike's handle bar. She had had one when she was a Nine, but she had outgrown it long before she had become a Birthmother in-training. The sight of the new bike, even though it was sleek and shining instead of old and slightly dirty, as it had been with her old one, made her smile. It brought back memories – none the least of which had been being reprimanded by her elder brother, John, when she had returned home with the bike's wheels mud-caked and its seat grass-stained.
After reading the note, Marie put it in her pocket. An old talent returned to her then as she carefully put one foot into the bike's right pedal and swung herself onto the leather seat before adjusting her position so that she was facing the west. She wheeled the bike north, in the direction she thought she had come – no, it was more like some instinctive yet wise impulse that just knew what to do.
Marie pedaled off into the direction of the Community, the Giver's directions rolling in her head all the while. She sped off smoothly for the horizon, where dawn was breaking. In a jolt, Marie suddenly realized how much more beautiful the world was, thanks to colour. Cream-coloured clouds edged the sunrise, which blazed orange among the beigish-brown. It was an amazing, stupendous, terrific sight, and Marie smiled, content as she gazed out at the orange flash that marked sunup.
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Before long, the front wheel had touched the northernmost horizon; Marie planned things carefully in her head. It was no longer that rapid skimming through options of a young woman trying to save her baby, but rather the smooth planning of escape, hope, joy, love, and freedom. After all, as she had found, growing up among the community's drab gray buildings, love did not exist. She knew the word, of course, but back there it was always respect, honour, appreciation, but no actual love. The thought made her sad, even though she had no idea where it had come from.
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Marie's blue eyes imploringly met Isabel's chocolate ones. Her fellow Birthmother cocked her head to the side, a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes. There was nothing the Committee of Elders could do to stop the flow of human nature, and they both knew it.
"I
know what you're going to say," Isabel began when Marie opened
her mouth. "Jaime told me."
The other woman couldn't
help but smile, but her voice was tinged with sadness. "If the
Committee of Elders comes to your house, I'll have to escape
again," she added, her shoulders sagging slightly. "But I'll
do whatever it takes to save us all from a… Well, I can't tell
you that just yet," she finished apologetically. "You'll find
out eventually."
Isabel tossed her a daring, roguish grin. "No problem. You can stay with me and Will for now," she declared, putting one hand on Marie's shoulder and guiding her into the adjoined sleepingrooms down the hallways.
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Isabel winked at her spouse as she closed the door after Marie's sleeping figure. It was a few hours later and the two of them had managed to create a plan of escape and freedom. They would start by trying to inform the residents of the Community of the life outside, then convince them to flock to a new life, full of hope, love, and joy.
Will smiled and stroked little Jesse's wavy curls. The chubby Five heaved a sigh in his sleep, though they could both tell from the expression on his face that he was content. Will turned back to Isabel again, who sunk herself into a chair across from him.
"I think this will work," Isabel confidently told Will behind closed eyelids. She was more talking to herself than to him. "Marie has a lot of courage in herself and in the Community, and we've both got a lot of imagination. I know it – what's possible is possible, and nothing you can say goes against that."
"True," Will agreed shrewdly. "Very true. But I sure hope everyone else will go along with this."
Isabel snapped out of her trance just to peer at him. "Nope, I'm sure," she grinned, then leaned back into the chair as her eyes slowly closed. "After all, who doesn't want freedom?"
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