Even the children were scolded if they used the term lightly at play, jeering at a team-mate who missed a catch or stumbled in a race. Jonas had done it once, had shouted at his best friend, Thats it, Asher! Youre released! when Ashers clumsy error had lost a match for his team. He had been taken aside for a brief and serious talk by the coach, had hung his head with guilt and embarrassment, and apologised to Asher after the game.
Now, thinking about the feeling of fear as he pedalled home along the river path, he remembered that moment of palpable, stomach-sinking terror when the aircraft had streaked above. It was not what he was feeling now with December approaching. He searched for the right word to describe his own feeling.
Jonas was careful about language. Not like his friend, Asher, who talked too fast and mixed things up, scrambling words and phrases until they were barely recognisable and often very funny.
Jonas grinned, remembering the morning that Asher had dashed into the classroom, late as usual, arriving breathlessly in the middle of the chanting of the morning anthem. When the class took their seats at the conclusion of the patriotic hymn, Asher remained standing to make his public apology as was required.
I apologise for inconveniencing my learning community. Asher ran through the standard apology phrase rapidly, still catching his breath. The Instructor and class waited patiently for his explanation. The students had all been grinning, because they had listened to Ashers explanations so many times before.
I left home at the correct time but when I was riding along near the hatchery, the crew was separating some salmon. I guess I just got distraught, watching them.
I apologise to my classmates, Asher concluded. He smoothed his rumpled tunic and sat down.
We accept your apology, Asher. The class recited the standard response in unison. Many of the students were biting their lips to keep from laughing.
I accept your apology, Asher, the Instructor said. He was smiling. And I thank you, because once again you have provided an opportunity for a lesson in language. Distraught is too strong an adjective to describe salmon-viewing. He turned and wrote distraught on the instructional board. Beside it he wrote distracted.
Jonas, nearing his home now, smiled at the recollection. Thinking, still, as he wheeled his bike into its narrow port beside the door, he realised that frightened was the wrong word to describe his feelings, now that December was almost here. It was too strong an adjective.
He had waited a long time for this special December. Now that it was almost upon him, he wasnt frightened, but he was eager, he decided. He was eager for it to come. And he was excited, certainly. All of the Elevens were excited about the event that would be coming so soon.
But there was a little shudder of nervousness when he thought about it, about what might happen.
Apprehensive, Jonas decided. Thats what I am.
Who wants to be the first tonight, for feelings? Jonass father asked, at the conclusion of their evening meal.
It was one of the rituals, the evening telling of feelings. Sometimes Jonas and his sister, Lily, argued over turns, over who would get to go first. Their parents, of course, were part of the ritual; they, too, told their feelings each evening. But like all parents all adults they didnt fight and wheedle for their turn.
Nor did Jonas, tonight. His feelings were too complicated this evening. He wanted to share them, but he wasnt eager to begin the process of sifting through his own complicated emotions, even with the help that he knew his parents could give.
You go, Lily, he said, seeing his sister, who was much younger only a Seven wiggling with impatience in her chair.
I felt very angry this afternoon, Lily announced. My Childcare group was at the play area, and we had a visiting group of Sevens, and they didnt obey the rules at all. One of them a male; I dont know his name kept going right to the front of the line for the slide, even though the rest of us were all waiting. I felt so angry at him. I made my hand into a fist, like this. She held up a clenched fist and the rest of the family smiled at her small defiant gesture.
Why do you think the visitors didnt obey the rules? Mother asked.
Lily considered, and shook her head. I dont know. They acted like like
Animals? Jonas suggested. He laughed.
Thats right, Lily said, laughing too. Like animals. Neither child knew what the word meant, exactly, but it was often used to describe someone uneducated or clumsy, someone who didnt fit in.
Where were the visitors from? Father asked.
Lily frowned, trying to remember. Our leader told us, when he made the welcome speech, but I cant remember. I guess I wasnt paying attention. It was from another community. They had to leave very early, and they had their midday meal on the bus.
Mother nodded. Do you think its possible that their rules may be different? And so they simply didnt know what your play area rules were?
Lily shrugged, and nodded. I suppose.
Youve visited other communities, havent you? Jonas asked. My group has, often.
Lily nodded again. When we were Sixes, we went and shared a whole school day with a group of Sixes in their community.
How did you feel when you were there?
Lily frowned. I felt strange. Because their methods were different. They were learning usages that my group hadnt learned yet, so we felt stupid.
Father was listening with interest. Im thinking, Lily, he said, about the boy who didnt obey the rules today. Do you think its possible that he felt strange and stupid, being in a new place with rules that he didnt know about?
Lily pondered that. Yes, she said, finally.
I feel a little sorry for him, Jonas said, even though I dont even know him. I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he feels strange and stupid.
How do you feel now, Lily? Father asked. Still angry?
I guess not, Lily decided. I guess I feel a little sorry for him. And sorry I made a fist. She grinned.
Jonas smiled back at his sister. Lilys feelings were always straightforward, fairly simple, usually easy to resolve. He guessed that his own had been, too, when he was a Seven.
He listened politely, though not very attentively, while his father took his turn, describing a feeling of worry that hed had that day at work: a concern about one of the newchildren who wasnt doing well. Jonass fathers title was Nurturer. He and the other Nurturers were responsible for all the physical and emotional needs of every newchild during its earliest life. It was a very important job, Jonas knew, but it wasnt one that interested him much.
What gender is it? Lily asked.
Male, Father said. Hes a sweet little male with a lovely disposition. But he isnt growing as fast as he should, and he doesnt sleep soundly. We have him in the extra care section for supplementary nurturing, but the committees beginning to talk about releasing him.
Oh, no, Mother murmured sympathetically. I know how sad that must make you feel.
Jonas and Lily both nodded sympathetically as well. Release of newchildren was always sad, because they hadnt had a chance to enjoy life within the community yet. And they hadnt done anything wrong.
Jonas and Lily both nodded sympathetically as well. Release of newchildren was always sad, because they hadnt had a chance to enjoy life within the community yet. And they hadnt done anything wrong.
There were only two occasions of release which were not punishment. Release of the elderly, which was a time of celebration for a life well and fully lived; and release of a newchild, which always brought a sense of what-could-we-have-done. This was especially troubling for the Nurturers, like Father, who felt they had failed somehow. But it happened very rarely.
Well, Father said, Im going to keep trying. I may ask the committee for permission to bring him here at night, if you dont mind. You know what the night-crew Nurturers are like. I think this little guy needs something extra.
Of course, Mother said, and Jonas and Lily nodded. They had heard Father complain about the night crew before. It was a lesser job, night-crew nurturing, assigned to those who lacked the interest or skills or insight for the more vital jobs of the daytime hours. Most of the people on the night crew had not even been given spouses because they lacked, somehow, the essential capacity to connect to others, which was required for the creation of a family unit.
Maybe we could even keep him, Lily suggested sweetly, trying to look innocent. The look was fake, Jonas knew; they all knew.
Lily, Mother reminded her, smiling, you know the rules.
Two children one male, one female to each family unit. It was written very clearly in the rules.
Lily giggled. Well, she said, I thought maybe just this once.
Next, Mother, who held a prominent position at the Department of Justice, talked about her feelings. Today a repeat offender had been brought before her, someone who had broken the rules before. Someone who she hoped had been adequately and fairly punished, and who had been restored to his place: to his job, his home, his family unit. To see him brought before her a second time caused her overwhelming feelings of frustration and anger. And even guilt, that she hadnt made a difference in his life.
I feel frightened, too, for him, she confessed. You know that theres no third chance. The rules say that if theres a third transgression, he simply has to be released.
Jonas shivered. He knew it happened. There was even a boy in his group of Elevens whose father had been released years before. No one ever mentioned it; the disgrace was unspeakable. It was hard to imagine.
Lily stood up and went to her mother. She stroked her mothers arm.
From his place at the table, Father reached over and took her hand. Jonas reached for the other.
One by one, they comforted her. Soon she smiled, thanked them, and murmured that she felt soothed.
The ritual continued. Jonas? Father asked. Youre last, tonight.
Jonas sighed. This evening he almost would have preferred to keep his feelings hidden. But it was, of course, against the rules.
Im feeling apprehensive, he confessed, glad that the appropriate descriptive word had finally come to him.
Why is that, son? His father looked concerned.
I know theres really nothing to worry about, Jonas explained, and that every adult has been through it. I know you have, Father, and you too, Mother. But its the Ceremony that Im apprehensive about. Its almost December.
Lily looked up, her eyes wide. The Ceremony of Twelve, she whispered in an awed voice. Even the smallest children Lilys age and younger knew that it lay in the future for each of them.
Im glad you told us of your feelings, Father said.
Lily, Mother said, beckoning to the little girl. Go on now and get into your nightclothes. Father and I are going to stay here and talk to Jonas for a while.
Lily sighed, but obediently she got down from her chair. Privately? she asked.
Mother nodded. Yes, she said. This talk will be a private one with Jonas.
JONAS WATCHED AS his father poured a fresh cup of coffee. He waited.
You know, his father finally said, every December was exciting to me when I was young. And it has been for you and Lily, too, Im sure. Each December brings such changes.
Jonas nodded. He could remember the Decembers back to when he had become, well, probably a Four. The earlier ones were lost to him. But he observed them each year, and he remembered Lilys earliest Decembers. He remembered when his family received Lily, the day she was named, the day that she had become a One.
The Ceremony for the Ones was always noisy and fun. Each December, all the newchildren born in the previous year turned One. One at a time there were always fifty in each years group, if none had been released they had been brought to the stage by the Nurturbers who had cared for them since birth. Some were already walking, wobbly on their unsteady legs; others were no more than a few days old, wrapped in blankets, held by their Nurturers.
I enjoy the Naming, Jonas said.
His mother agreed, smiling. The year we got Lily, we knew, of course, that wed receive our female, because wed made our application and been approved. But Id been wondering and wondering what her name would be.
I could have sneaked a look at the list prior to the ceremony, Father confided. The committee always makes the list in advance, and its right there in the office at the Nurturing Centre.
As a matter of fact, he went on, I feel a little guilty about this. But I did go in this afternoon and looked to see if this years Naming list had been made yet. It was right there in the office, and I looked up number Thirty-six thats the little guy Ive been concerned about because it occurred to me that it might enhance his nurturing if I could call him by a name. Just privately, of course, when no one else is around.
Did you find it? Jonas asked. He was fascinated. It didnt seem a terribly important rule, but the fact that his father had broken a rule at all awed him. He glanced at his mother, the one responsible for adherence to the rules, and was relieved that she was smiling.
His father nodded. His name if he makes it to the Naming without being released, of course is to be Gabriel. So I whisper that to him when I feed him every four hours, and during exercise and playtime. If no one can hear me.
I call him Gabe, actually, he said, and grinned.
Gabe. Jonas tried it out. A good name, he decided.
Though Jonas had only become a Five the year that they acquired Lily and learned her name, he remembered the excitement, the conversations at home, wondering about her: how she would look, who she would be, how she would fit into their established family unit. He remembered climbing the steps to the stage with his parents, his father by his side that year instead of with the Nurturers, since it was the year that he would be given a newchild of his own.
He remembered his mother taking the newchild, his sister, into her arms, while the document was read to the assembled family units. Newchild Twenty-three, the Namer had read. Lily.
He remembered his fathers look of delight, and that his father had whispered, Shes one of my favourites. I was hoping for her to be the one. The crowd had clapped and Jonas had grinned. He liked his sisters name. Lily, barely awake, had waved her small fist. Then they had stepped down to make room for the next family unit.