But that evening everything changed. All of it — the things they had thought through so meticulously1 — fell apart.
That night, Jonas was forced to flee. He left the dwelling2 shortly after the sky became dark and the community still. It was terribly dangerous because some of the work crews were still about, but he moved stealthily and silently, staying in the shadows, making his way past the darkened dwellings3 and the empty Central Plaza4, toward the river. Beyond the Plaza he could see the House of the Old, with the Annex5 behind it, outlined against the night sky. But he could not stop there. There was no time. Every minute counted now, and every minute must take him farther from the community.
Now he was on the bridge, hunched6 over on the bicycle pedaling steadily7. He could see the dark, churning water far below.
He felt, surprisingly, no fear, nor any regret at leaving the community behind. But he felt a very deep sadness that he had left his closest friend behind. He knew that in the danger of his escape he must be absolutely silent; but with his heart and mind, he called back and hoped that with his capacity for hearing-beyond, The Giver would know that Jonas had said goodbye.
It had happened at the evening meal. The family unit was eating together as always: Lily chattering8 away, Mother and Father making their customary comments (and lies, Jonas knew) about the day. Nearby, Gabriel played happily on the floor, babbling9 his baby talk, looking with glee now and then toward Jonas, obviously delighted to have him back after the unexpected night away from the dwelling.
Father glanced down toward the toddler. "Enjoy it, little guy," he said. "This is your last night as visitor."
"What do you mean?" Jonas asked him.
Father sighed with disappointment. "Well, you know he wasn't here when you got home this morning because we had him stay overnight at the Nurturing10 Center. It seemed like a good opportunity, with you gone, to give it a try. He'd been sleeping so soundly."
"Didn't it go well?" Mother asked sympathetically.
Father gave a rueful laugh. "That's an understatement. It was a disaster. He cried all night, apparently11. The night crew couldn't handle it. They were really frazzled by the time I got to work."
"Gabe, you naughty thing," Lily said, with a scolding little cluck toward the grinning toddler on the floor.
"So," Father went on, "we obviously had to make the decision. Even I voted for Gabriel's release when we had the meeting this afternoon."
Jonas put down his fork and stared at his father. "Release?" he asked.
Father nodded. "We certainly gave it our best try, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did," Mother agreed emphatically.
Lily nodded in agreement, too.
Jonas worked at keeping his voice absolutely calm. "When?" he asked. "When will he be released?"
"First thing tomorrow morning. We have to start our preparations for the Naming Ceremony, so we thought we'd get this taken care of right away.
"It's bye-bye to you, Gabe, in the morning," Father had said, in his sweet, sing-song voice.
Jonas reached the opposite side of the river, stopped briefly12, and looked back. The community where his entire life had been lived lay behind him now, sleeping. At dawn, the orderly, disciplined life he had always known would continue again, without him. The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient13. Or unusual. The life without color, pain, or past.
He pushed firmly again at the pedal with his foot and continued riding along the road. It was not safe to spend time looking back. He thought of the rules he had broken so far: enough that if he were caught, now, he would be condemned14.
First, he had left the dwelling at night. A major transgression15.
Second, he had robbed the community of food: a very serious crime, even though what he had taken was leftovers16, set out on the dwelling doorsteps for collection.
Third, he had stolen his father's bicycle. He had hesitated for a moment, standing17 beside the bike port in the darkness, not wanting anything of his father's and uncertain, as well, whether he could comfortably ride the larger bike when he was so accustomed to his own.
But it was necessary because it had the child seat attached to the back.
And he had taken Gabriel, too.
He could feel the little head nudge his back, bouncing gently against him as he rode. Gabriel was sleeping soundly, strapped18 into the seat. Before he had left the dwelling, he had laid his hands firmly on Gabe's back and transmitted to him the most soothing19 memory he could: a slow-swinging hammock under palm trees on an island someplace, at evening, with a rhythmic20 sound of languid water lapping hypnotically against a beach nearby. As the memory seeped21 from him into the new child he could feel Gabe's sleep ease and deepen. There had been no stir at all when Jonas lifted him from the crib and placed him gently into the molded seat.
He knew that he had the remaining hours of night before they would be aware of his escape. So he rode hard, steadily, willing himself not to tire as the minutes and miles passed. There had been no time to receive the memories he and The Giver had counted on, of strength and courage. So he relied on what he had, and hoped it would be enough.
He circled the outlying communities, their dwellings dark. Gradually the distances between communities widened, with longer stretches of empty road. His legs ached at first; then, as time passed, they became numb22.
At dawn Gabriel began to stir. They were in an isolated23 place; fields on either side of the road were dotted with thickets24 of trees here and there. He saw a stream, and made his way to it across a rutted, bumpy25 meadow; Gabriel, wide awake now, giggled26 as the bicycle jolted27 him up and down.
Jonas unstrapped Gabe, lifted him from the bike, and watched him investigate the grass and twigs28 with delight. Carefully he hid the bicycle in thick bushes.
"Morning meal, Gabe!" He unwrapped some of the food and fed them both. Then he filled the cup he had brought with water from the stream and held it for Gabriel to drink. He drank thirstily himself, and sat by the stream, watching the new child play.
He was exhausted29. He knew he must sleep, resting his own muscles and preparing himself for more hours on the bicycle. It would not be safe to travel in daylight.
They would be looking for him soon.
He found a place deeply hidden in the trees, took the new child there, and lay down, holding Gabriel in his arms. Gabe struggled cheerfully as if it were a wrestling game, the kind they had played back in the dwelling, with tickles30 and laughter.
"Sorry, Gabe," Jonas told him. "I know it's morning, and I know you just woke up. But we have to sleep now."
He cuddled the small body close to him, and rubbed the little back. He murmured to Gabriel soothingly31. Then he pressed his hands firmly and transmitted a memory of deep, contented32 exhaustion33. Gabriel's head nodded, after a moment, and fell against Jonas's chest.
Together the fugitives34 slept through the first dangerous day.
The most terrifying thing was the planes. By now, days had passed; Jonas no longer knew how many. The journey had become automatic: the sleep by day, hidden in underbrush and trees; the finding of water; the careful division of scraps35 of food, augmented36 by what he could find in the fields. And the endless, endless miles on the bicycle by night.
His leg muscles were taut37 now. They ached when he settled himself to sleep. But they were stronger, and he stopped now less often to rest. Sometimes he paused and lifted Gabriel down for a brief bit of exercise, running down the road or through a field together in the dark. But always, when he returned, strapped the uncomplaining toddler into the seat again, and remounted, his legs were ready.
So he had enough strength of his own, and had not needed what The Giver might have provided, had there been time.
But when the planes came, he wished that he could have received the courage.
He knew they were search planes. They flew so low that they woke him with the noise of their engines, and sometimes, looking out and up fearfully from the hiding places, he could almost see the faces of the searchers.
He knew that they could not see color, and that their flesh, as well as Gabriel's light golden curls, would be no more than smears38 of gray against the colorless foliage39. But he remembered from his science and technology studies at school that the search planes used heat-seeking devices which could identify body warmth and would hone in on two humans huddled40 in shrubbery.
So always, when he heard the aircraft sound, he reached to Gabriel and transmitted memories of snow, keeping some for himself. Together they became cold; and when the planes were gone, they would shiver, holding each other, until sleep came again.
Sometimes, urging the memories into Gabriel, Jonas felt that they were more shallow, a little weaker than they had been. It was what he had hoped, and what he and The Giver had planned: that as he moved away from the community, he would shed the memories and leave them behind for the people. But now, when he needed them, when the planes came, he tried hard to cling to what he still had, of cold, and to use it for their survival.
Usually the aircraft came by day, when they were hiding. But he was alert at night, too, on the road, always listening intently for the sound of the engines. Even Gabriel listened, and would call out, "Plane! Plane!" sometimes before Jones had heard the terrifying noise. When the aircraft searchers came, as they did occasionally, during the night as they rode, Jonas sped to the nearest tree or bush, dropped to the ground, and made himself and Gabriel cold. But it was sometimes a frighteningly close call.
As he pedaled through the nights, through isolated landscape now, with the communities far behind and no sign of human habitation around him or ahead, he was constantly vigilant41, looking for the next nearest hiding place should the sound of engines come.
But the frequency of the planes diminished. They came less often, and flew, when they did come, less slowly, as if the search had become haphazard42 and no longer hopeful. Finally there was an entire day and night when they did not come at all.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
meticulously
|
|
| adv.过细地，异常细致地；无微不至；精心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
dwellings
|
|
| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
plaza
|
|
| n.广场，市场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
annex
|
|
| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
hunched
|
|
| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
nurturing
|
|
| 养育( nurture的现在分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
inconvenient
|
|
| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
transgression
|
|
| n.违背；犯规；罪过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
leftovers
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物，剩菜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
strapped
|
|
| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
rhythmic
|
|
| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
seeped
|
|
| v.（液体）渗( seep的过去式和过去分词 )；渗透；渗出；漏出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
numb
|
|
| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
bumpy
|
|
| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
giggled
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
jolted
|
|
| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
twigs
|
|
| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
tickles
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
soothingly
|
|
| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
exhaustion
|
|
| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
fugitives
|
|
| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
Augmented
|
|
| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
taut
|
|
| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
smears
|
|
| 污迹( smear的名词复数 )； 污斑； （显微镜的）涂片； 诽谤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
vigilant
|
|
| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
haphazard
|
|
| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |