礼堂的座位重新调整，乔纳思这个年龄层跟刚刚晋升为十一岁的孩子对调，所以他们现在就坐在讲台前方。
他们是根据原始号码入座的，那号码打从出生后就跟着他们。虽然命名之后号码就很少用了，不过，每个小孩都会记得自己的号码。有时小孩子调皮捣蛋，做父母的就会气得叫他们的号码，意思是捣蛋的小孩没有资格拥有名字。每次乔纳思听见一些父母对还在学步的幼儿怒吼：“够了，二十三号！”他就忍不住笑出来。
乔纳思是十九号，他是当年第十九位出生的新生儿，这意味着在他被命名的时候，已经会站立，视力良好，而且很快就会走路、说话。在前两年，这个位置让他占到一点便宜，因为跟比他晚几个月出生的小宝宝比较，他的发育比较快。
但是等到三岁的时候，就相差不远了。
三岁以后，孩子的发展相当一致，不过透过号码，就可以分辨得出团体中谁比谁大上几个月。严格地说，乔纳思的完整号码是十一?十九号，因为每个不同的年龄层中，都有十九号，这是当然的喽。而今天，因为十岁的孩子已在早上晋升为十一岁，所以这时出现了两个十一岁的十一?十九号。午餐时，他曾跟这位新的十一?十九号——一位名叫海瑞的害羞女生，交换了会心的微笑。
不过，号码重复只有这短短几个小时，很快他就会升为十二岁，不再是十一岁，从此年纪也不再重要了。他跟他的父母一样是个大人了，是个崭新的个体，只不过尚未接受训练而已。
亚瑟是四号，坐在乔纳思前排，他将是第四个接到指派工作的人。
费欧娜是十八号，坐在他的左边。他的另一边则坐着二十号，一位名叫皮亚瑞的男生，乔纳思不太喜欢他。皮亚瑞道貌岸然的，整天愁眉不展，嘴里念念有词：“乔纳思，你有没有检查法则手册？”要不就是不安地嘀咕着：“我不知道这合不合乎规则？”偏偏他担心的又都是一些没人会在意的小事，比如：如果白天起风，可不可以敞开短上衣？可不可以试骑朋友的自行车，体验不同的感觉？
十二岁典礼由首席长老致词，她是社区的领导人，每十年遴选一次。演说内容千篇一律：先回忆童年和准备时期的快乐时光，再提到紧接着来到的成人生活和责任，派任工作的深层意义，以及即将到来的严格训练。
“时候终于到了，”她把目光移向前排，看着他们，“我们要来认知大家的差异性。过去十一年，你们一直努力学习将自己的行为标准化，并压抑自己的冲动，以免与团体格格不入。
但是今天我们却要赞扬个别差异，因为这将决定你们的未来。”
她开始描述这个年龄层有哪些个别的特质，只不过没指名道姓罢了。她指出有人擅长照顾他人，有人喜欢新生儿，有人具有不凡的科学天分，有人特别喜欢从事体力劳动。乔纳思注意聆听，揣摩长老指的是什么人。擅长照顾他人，毫无疑问是指坐在他左手边的费欧娜，她在为老人洗澡时非常温柔：具有科学天分的可能是班杰明，他已经为复健中心设计了重要的仪器。
他听不出首席长老提及的特性哪个像他——乔纳思。
最后，首席长老对委员会的成员致意，谢谢他们过去这一年来面面俱到地观察。长老会的成员全体起立，接受大家的掌声。乔纳思注意到亚瑟有礼貌的用手遮住嘴巴，打了一个小哈欠。
终于到了典礼的高潮，首席长老叫一号上台，开始指派工作。
派令很长，还附带对这个人做了一点说明。一号很开心地接受鱼类养殖所服务员的工作。乔纳思听到首席长老说一号经常到那里当义工，对提供营养给社区大众很感兴趣。
那位名叫玛德琳的一号，在如雷的掌声中回到座位上，身上配戴着崭新的鱼类养殖所工作证。乔纳思露出恭喜的微笑，他很高兴这项工作分出去了。
二号名叫英格儿，即将担任孕母的工作。乔纳思记得妈妈说过，担任这种工作并不光彩，但是他倒觉得委员会的选择很适当。英格儿虽然有点儿懒，却是个好女孩儿，而且体格强壮。经过短暂的训练后，她可以享受三年被娇宠的好日子。她的体格不但适合生孩子，也能胜任往后的劳动工作。
英格儿微笑着回到座位。虽然声望不高，孕母的工作还是很重要。
亚瑟开始紧张了，不断回头看着乔纳思，惹得督导人员不得不用眼神警告他：不准乱动，向前看！
三号艾沙克的指定工作是当六岁孩子的老师。这是他盼望的工作，所以乐不可支。现在有三项工作有适当人选了，但没有一项是乔纳思喜欢的。他调侃地想：当然，他是不可能当孕母的。
他把工作项目细细地想了一遍，剩下的工作中，他可能分派到哪项呢？其中有很多是他没兴趣的。不管如何，接下来轮到亚瑟了。
乔纳思专注地看着亚瑟上台，扭捏地站在首席长老身边。
“我们都认识亚瑟，也很喜欢亚瑟。”首席长老说。亚瑟咧嘴笑了笑，用一只脚去搔另一只脚，观众不禁轻笑了起来。
“委员会在考虑亚瑟的指派工作时，很快就发现有些工作很明显地不适合亚瑟。比方说，”她开始微笑，“我们就不会考虑让亚瑟当三岁孩子的老师。”
观众哄堂大笑。亚瑟也跟着大笑，虽然样子看起来有点儿不好意思，却似乎很高兴能引起众人的注意。三岁孩子的老师得特别留意孩子正确的遣词用字。
“事实上，”首席长老忍不住“噗嗤”一声笑了出来：“我们还想去追究一下责任，到底是谁担任亚瑟三岁时的老师呢！打从他开始学习语言，我们就不停地开会讨论他的问题。”
她带着浅浅的笑意说：“尤其是关于‘沙拉’和‘打打’之间的差异性。记得吗，亚瑟？”
亚瑟羞赧地点点头，观众再度大笑。乔纳思也不例外。
虽然当时他才三岁，但对这些事记得很清楚。
社区里有一把专用来管教不听话小孩儿的戒尺。这把戒尺薄薄的，很有弹性，打下去很痛。育儿中心的专家们都受过良好的训练技巧：犯小过，轻轻打一下手心；第二次犯错，就加点力道，在脚上打三下。
可怜的亚瑟，打从学步开始，不是说话太快，就是乱用词语。三岁的时候，有一次在吃点心时间，他很想喝果汁、吃饼干，当他排队领点心的时候，竟然把“蛋蛋”说成“打打”。
乔纳思记得很清楚，那情景仿佛还在眼前：小亚瑟在队伍中很不耐烦地扭着身子，然后用稚嫩可爱的声音大叫：“我要打打。”
其他的三岁小孩，包括乔纳思，全都紧张地叫了起来，纠正他：“蛋蛋！亚瑟，你要的是蛋蛋！”但是错误已经形成了，而小小孩最重要的工作，就是精确地使用语言。既然亚瑟要求“打打”，育儿中心的工作人员便拿起戒尺，“啪”
的一声，在亚瑟的手上打了一下。亚瑟缩了一下，呜呜咽咽地小声更正：“蛋蛋。”
但是第ニ天早上，他再度犯错，接下来的一个礼拜也是一样。他就是改不过来，每次，都换来更严厉的痛打，结果腿上留下一道道清晰的伤痕。后来有好长一段时间，他索性不再说话。
“有好一阵子，”首席长老继续说，“我们的亚瑟非常沉默。但是他终于学会了！”
她笑容满面地看着他：“当他再度开口时，遣词用字精确多了。现在他已很少犯错，即使犯错也会及时更正和道歉。他的幽默感是永不枯竭的。”观众低声表示同意。亚瑟开朗活泼的个性社区里无人不知。
“亚瑟，”她提高音量，准备发表正式的派令，“你被分配到娱乐中心担任主任助理。
她微笑着把工作证戴在他的身上。亚瑟转身走下讲台，所有的观众齐声欢呼。当他回到座位上时，首席长老低头注视着他，说出那句她已说了三次，而且还会继续对所有晋升为十二岁的孩子说的一句话。只不过，这句话对每个人都有不同的意义。
“亚瑟，”她说，“谢谢你奉献了你的童年。”
分配工作继续进行，乔纳思专心观看和聆听着，由于好朋友获得理想的指派工作，让他大大松了一口气。可是，就快要轮到他上台了，他显得越来越不安。坐在第一排的十二岁孩子全都领到工作证了，他们坐在位子上把玩着。乔纳思知道每个人脑海中想着的是随之而来的训练，比如医生、工程师、法官，这些工作都需要经过多年的努力和研究才能胜任；其他工作，比如劳工和孕母，训练时间就短多了。
十八号，坐在他左边的费欧娜，已经上台了。乔纳思知道她很紧张，但费欧娜是个冷静的女孩儿，在整个典礼进行中，她始终安静、沉稳地坐着。
在众人热诚的欢呼声中，费欧娜接受照顾老年人的工作。让这么一位善解人意、温和有礼的女孩子来担任这项工作，实在是太理想了。费欧娜再度坐回乔纳思身边时，嘴角浮现着满足、愉快的笑意。
当掌声渐息、首席长老拿起下一个档案夹注视着台下时，乔纳思准备好要走上台去。终于轮到他了，他平静下来，深深吸了一口气，用手顺了顺头发。
“二十号他听见她清晰的语调，“皮亚瑞。”
她跳过我了，乔纳思愣在那里。他有没有听错？没有。
全体观众突然间安静了下来，他知道全社区的人都发现首席长老漏掉一个号码，从十八号直接跳到二十号。在他右边的皮亚瑞带着惊讶的表情，从座位上站起来，走向讲台。
错了，她弄错了。不过乔纳思知道这只是他一厢情愿的想法，她不可能犯错的，尤其是在这么重要的十二岁典礼上。
他觉得头晕脑涨，没办法集中注意力。他没有听到皮亚瑞获得什么工作，只隐约感觉到掌声响起，皮亚瑞戴着工作证回到座位上。接着是二十一号、二十二号。
分配工作按照号码顺序继续进行着。乔纳思恍恍惚惚地坐着，听着号码一路进展到三十号……然后四十号，慢慢接近尾声。每叫一个号码，他的心就怦怦乱跳，他的脑袋开始胡思乱想……也许接下来就会叫到他了。难道是他忘了自己的号码吗？不可能。他一直是十九号，他就坐在标示着十九号的座位上啊。
可是她跳过他了。他看见同学们对他投来关注的眼神，但很快地又赶紧移开。他也看见督导员脸上担心的神情。
他缩着肩膀，让座位里的自己看起来小一点。他希望自己消失不见，逐渐隐没，根本不存在。他不敢转身看人群中父母的神情，他受不了看见父母脸上蒙上羞愧的阴影。
乔纳思低下头，苦苦思索着，他到底做错了什么？
Chapter 8
The audience was clearly ill at ease. They applauded at the final Assignment; but the applause was piecemeal, no longer a crescendo of united enthusiasm. There were murmurs of confusion.
Jonas moved his hands together, clapping, but it was an automatic, meaningless gesture that he wasn't even aware of. His mind had shut out all of the earlier emotions: the anticipation, excitement, pride, and even the happy kinship with his friends. Now he felt only humiliation and terror.
The Chief Elder waited until the uneasy applause subsided. Then she spoke again.
"I know," she said in her vibrant, gracious voice, "that you are all concerned. That you feel I have made a mistake."
She smiled. The community, relieved from its discomfort very slightly by her benign statement, seemed to breathe more easily. It was very silent.
Jonas looked up.
"I have caused you anxiety," she said. "I apologize to my community." Her voice flowed over the assembled crowd.
"We accept your apology," they all uttered together.
"Jonas," she said, looking down at him, "I apologize to you in particular. I caused you anguish."
"I accept your apology," Jonas replied shakily.
"Please come to the stage now."
Earlier that day, dressing in his own dwelling, he had practiced the kind of jaunty, self-assured walk that he hoped he could make to the stage when his turn came. All of that was forgotten now. He simply willed himself to stand, to move his feet that felt weighted and clumsy, to go forward, up the steps and across the platform until he stood at her side.
Reassuringly she placed her arm across his tense shoulders.
"Jonas has not been assigned," she informed the crowd, and his heart sank.
Then she went on. "Jonas has been selected."
He blinked. What did that mean? He felt a collective, questioning stir from the audience. They, too, were puzzled.
In a firm, commanding voice she announced, "Jonas has been selected to be our next Receiver of Memory."
Then he heard the gasp — the sudden intake of breath, drawn sharply in astonishment, by each of the seated citizens. He saw their faces; the eyes widened in awe.
And still he did not understand.
"Such a selection is very, very rare," the Chief Elder told the audience. "Our community has only one Receiver. It is he who trains his successor.
"We have had our current Receiver for a very long time," she went on. Jonas followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at one of the Elders. The Committee of Elders was sitting together in a group; and the Chief Elder's eyes were now on one who sat in the midst but seemed oddly separate from them. It was a man Jonas had never noticed before, a bearded man with pale eyes. He was watching Jonas intently.
"We failed in our last selection," the Chief Elder said solemnly. "It was ten years ago, when Jonas was just a toddler. I will not dwell on the experience because it causes us all terrible discomfort."
Jonas didn't know what she was referring to, but he could sense the discomfort of the audience. They shifted uneasily in their seats.
"We have not been hasty this time," she continued. "We could not afford another failure."
"Sometimes," she went on, speaking now in a lighter tone, relaxing the tension in the Auditorium, "we are not entirely certain about the Assignments, even after the most painstaking observations. Sometimes we worry that the one assigned might not develop, through training, every attribute necessary. Elevens are still children, after all. What we observe as playfulness and patience — the requirements to become Nurturer — could, with maturity, be revealed as simply foolishness and indolence. So we continue to observe during training, and to modify behavior when necessary.
"But the Receiver-in-training cannot be observed, cannot be modified. That is stated quite clearly in the rules. He is to be alone, apart, while he is prepared by the current Receiver for the job which is the most honored in our community."
Alone? Apart? Jonas listened with increasing unease.
"Therefore the selection must be sound. It must be a unanimous choice of the Committee. They can have no doubts, however fleeting. If, during the process, an Elder reports a dream of uncertainty, that dream has the power to set a candidate aside instantly.
"Jonas was identified as a possible Receiver many years ago. We have observed him meticulously. There were no dreams of uncertainty.
"He has shown all of the qualities that a Receiver must have."
With her hand still firmly on his shoulder, the Chief Elder listed the qualities.
"Intelligence," she said. "We are all aware that Jonas has been a top student throughout his school days.
"Integrity," she said next. "Jonas has, like all of us, committed minor transgressions." She smiled at him. "We expect that. We hoped, also, that he would present himself promptly for chastisement, and he has always done so.
"Courage," she went on. "Only one of us here today has ever undergone the rigorous training required of a Receiver. He, of course, is the most important member of the Committee: the current Receiver. It was he who reminded us, again and again, of the courage required.
"Jonas," she said, turning to him, but speaking in a voice that the entire community could hear, "the training required of you involves pain. Physical pain."
He felt fear flutter within him.
"You have never experienced that. Yes, you have scraped your knees in falls from your bicycle. Yes, you crushed your finger in a door last year."
Jonas nodded, agreeing, as he recalled the incident, and its accompanying misery.
"But you will be faced, now," she explained gently, "with pain of a magnitude that none of us here can comprehend because it is beyond our experience. The Receiver himself was not able to describe it, only to remind us that you would be faced with it, that you would need immense courage. We cannot prepare you for that.
"But we feel certain that you are brave," she said to him.
He did not feel brave at all. Not now.
"The fourth essential attribute," the Chief Elder said, "is wisdom. Jonas has not yet acquired that. The acquisition of wisdom will come through his training.
"We are convinced that Jonas has the ability to acquire wisdom. That is what we looked for.
"Finally, The Receiver must have one more quality, and it is one which I can only name, but not describe. I do not understand it. You members of the community will not understand it, either. Perhaps Jonas will, because the current Receiver has told us that Jonas already has this quality. He calls it the Capacity to See Beyond."
The Chief Elder looked at Jonas with a question in her eyes. The audience watched him, too. They were silent.
For a moment he froze, consumed with despair. He didn't have it, the whatever-she-had-said. He didn't know what it was. Now was the moment when he would have to confess, to say, "No, I don't. I can't," and throw himself on their mercy, ask their forgiveness, to explain that he had been wrongly chosen, that he was not the right one at all.
But when he looked out across the crowd, the sea of faces, the thing happened again. The thing that had happened with the apple.
They changed.
He blinked, and it was gone. His shoulders straightened slightly. Briefly he felt a tiny sliver of sureness for the first time.
She was still watching him. They all were.
"I think it's true," he told the Chief Elder and the community. "I don't understand it yet. I don't know what it is. But sometimes I see something. And maybe it's beyond."
She took her arm from his shoulders.
"Jonas," she said, speaking not to him alone but to the entire community of which he was a part, "you will be trained to be our next Receiver of Memory. We thank you for your childhood."
Then she turned and left the stage, left him there alone, standing and facing the crowd, which began spontaneously the collective murmur of his name.
"Jonas." It was a whisper at first: hushed, barely audible. "Jonas. Jonas."
Then louder, faster. "JONAS. JONAS. JONAS."
With the chant, Jonas knew, the community was accepting him and his new role, giving him life, the way they had given it to the new child Caleb. His heart swelled with gratitude and pride.
But at the same time he was filled with fear. He did not know what his selection meant. He did not know what he was to become.
Or what would become of him.
