十二月就要到了，乔纳思开始感到恐惧。不对，不是恐惧，乔纳思心里想着，恐惧是指对即将发生的事情深感不安。一年前，一架来路不明的飞机在社区上空盘旋了两圈，当时他确实觉得恐惧。那两次，他都亲眼所见。当时他眯着眼睛望着天空，看见那架外型优美的喷气机快速飞掠而过，飞机的身影远去后，才听到它轰轰的声响。过了一会儿，同样一架飞机，又再次从另一端疾飞而来。
起初，他只是单纯地被吸引，因为平常飞行员飞越社区上空是有违规定的，所以以前从没机会这么近距离打量飞机。有时候飞机载运补给品，横越河面后降落在河对岸，孩子们就会骑着自行车，来到河岸，着迷地看着飞机卸货、起飞，最后朝西方远离社区的地方飞去。
但是，一年前的那架飞机不一样。它不是那种外型矮壮、肚子圆鼓鼓的货机，而是一架机头尖尖、单人驾驶的喷气机。当时乔纳思焦虑地四处张望，看见其他人包括大人和小孩，也跟他一样，通通停下手边的工作，困惑地等待着，不知道会发生什么事。
接着所有的居民接到指令，进入最近的建筑物，不准随意走动。扩音器里传出刺耳的声音：“立刻行动，把自行车留在原地。”
乔纳思不假思索，马上把自行车丢在家后头的小径上，跑进屋子里，独自留在屋内。他的父母都外出工作了，妹妹莉莉那时正在幼儿园消磨她下课以后的时光。
他从前面的窗户看出去，街道上空无一人。平常在这时刻，往来频繁的清道夫、环境美化人员和食品送货员，这会儿都不见了。路边到处是被匆忙扔下的自行车，有辆自行车车轮朝天，还在旋转着。
那时他真的害怕，他强烈地感觉到整个社区剑拔弩张的气氛。他的胃不禁剧烈地翻腾起来，身子也不由自主地跟着发抖。
可是，什么也没发生。几分钟之后，扩音器再度响起，这次语气较缓和、轻松，广播员解释说：有位正在受训的驾驶员读错了航行指示说明，所以转错了弯，飞错了方向。
“不用说，他会被解放的。”扩音器里的播音员在播送最后这条消息时，语气带着嘲讽，仿佛自己都觉得有点儿好笑。虽然乔纳思深深明白这种声明背后的严肃意涵，却也不禁微微一笑。对于在社区中奉献心力的市民来说，解放就是最后的判决，是一种可怕的惩罚，一项令人惊惧的失败声明。
如果孩子们在玩游戏时，用这个词语来嘲笑玩伴接球失误或赛跑时跌跤，是会被大人斥责的。乔纳思以前就有过一次这种经历，那次亚瑟犯下一个不该发生的错误，害得他们球队输了比赛，他对自己最要好的朋友大叫：“就这样，亚瑟！你被解放了！”结果他马上被带到旁边去，教练严厉地批评了他一顿。他低头认错，非常惭愧，赛后还跟亚瑟道歉。
现在，他一边沿着河边小径骑着自行车回家，一边回想起那种恐惧的感觉。
他记得那次飞机在天空快速飞行，带给他一种难忘的、胃痉挛的恐惧，这跟现在十二月缓缓逼近所带给他的感受大不相同。他努力寻找最精确的字眼，好形容自己的感觉。
乔纳思对遣词用字一向小心翼翼。不像他的朋友亚瑟，老是说得太快，又夹七夹八的，单字和词组乱用一气，说到最后，让大家听也听不懂，还很有“果笑”。
乔纳思微微一笑，想起那天早上，亚瑟跟平常一样又迟到了。当他上气不接下气地冲进教室时，大家正在唱颂早晨的《圣歌》。等全班同学唱完最后一段爱国者的赞美诗，回到自己的座位时，亚瑟仍旧杵在那儿，按照规定向大家道歉。
“很抱歉，我给共同学习的班级添了麻烦。”亚瑟一边喘气，一边快速地说了一遍标准道歉语。老师和全班同学都耐心地等待他的解释。有的同学则在窃笑，因为大家已听过太多次亚瑟的解释了。
“我准时出门，但是骑车到养殖场附近，看见工作人员在为鲑鱼分类，我实在忧心如焚，就立在旁边呆呆地看着。”
“我向所有的同学道歉！”最后亚瑟说完，将皱巴巴的袍子抚平，坐了下来。
“亚瑟，我们接受你的道歉！”全班整齐划一地念诵标准答复，许多同学咬住嘴唇，以免笑出声来。
“亚瑟，我接受你的道歉。”老师也微笑着说，“此外，我还要感谢你又提供一个机会，让大家上上语文课。用‘忧心如焚’这个词来形容对鲑鱼分类的担心，太强烈了一点。”他转身在黑板上写下“忧心如焚”四个字，接着又在旁边写出“有些担心”四个字。
乔纳思快到家了。一想起这件事，不禁又笑了起来。他一边想着，一边把自行车停进门边窄窄的停车位。他也知道用“恐惧”这个词来形容自己的感觉是不对的。现在十二月就要到了，这个形容词太强烈了。
这个别具意义的十二月，他期待已久。既然日子就快到了，他也不用再恐惧了。但是他很……急切——没错，就是这个字眼，他急切地希望日子快点到。当然，他也很兴奋，所有十一岁的孩子对未来要做什么，都很兴奋。可是一想到可能发生的状况，他不禁又紧张得哆嗦了一下。
焦虑，乔纳思决定了，用这个字眼来形容自己目前的心境最准确。
“今天晚上谁第一个志愿分享他的感觉？”在晚餐的最后分享时段，乔纳思的爸爸问。
每天晚上分享他人的感觉，是每户人家的例行活动。有时候，乔纳思和妹妹莉莉会为了谁先讲话而起争执。他们的双亲也会在每天晚上说说他们的感觉，不过，就像所有的父母、所有的大人一样，他们不会为了谁先谁后费心思。
乔纳思今晚也不会，今天晚上他的感觉太复杂了。他想跟大家分享这些感觉，但是即使他知道爸妈会给他协助，他也还不急着跟大家述说自己错综复杂的情绪。
“你先，莉莉。”他对妹妹说。莉莉才七岁，还非常小，她正不耐烦地坐在椅子上扭来扭去。
“今天下午，我好生气，”莉莉开始说话，“我们幼儿园这一班原本在游乐场玩，突然来了另一个也都是七岁孩子的班级。他们完全不遵守规则。其中有个不知道叫什么名字的男孩儿，直接插队到最前面去溜滑梯，根本不管我们这些排队等候的人。我很生气，就把手握成拳头，像这样。”
她把手握紧，变成拳头状。家人看她做出这个挑衅的动作，不禁微笑了起来。
“为什么你会觉得那些孩子不守规矩呢？”妈妈问。
莉莉想了一下，摇摇头：“我不知道，他们的行为就像……就像……”
“动物？”乔纳思猜着，然后哈哈笑起来。
“没错，”莉莉也哈哈笑起来，“就像动物。”没有一个孩子确切地知道那是什么意思，不过大家常用这个字眼来形容没有受过教育、笨拙或环境适应能力不良的人。
“那些孩子是从哪里来的？”爸爸问。
莉莉皱皱眉头，努力回想。“老师说过，但是我想不起来。我想我没有很专心听。他们是从另一个社区来的，他们很早就出门，必须在巴士上吃午餐呢。”
妈妈点点头：“你想，会不会是他们的规矩跟我们的不一样？所以不知道你们游乐场的规矩？”
莉莉耸耸肩，点点头：“可能是吧。”
“你们不是也拜访过其他社区吗？”乔纳思问，“我们班上常有这种活动。”
莉莉又点点头：“我们六岁时，曾经去另一个社区参观，一整天都跟他们六岁的班级一起生活。”
“在那里你有什么感觉？”
莉莉皱皱眉头：“我觉得很奇怪，因为他们的方法跟我们很不一样。他们学习一些我们还没学过的习俗，所以我们觉得自己像笨瓜。”
爸爸兴味十足地听着。“我想，莉莉，”他说，“那个男孩儿为什么不守规矩，你看，那个男孩子来到一个新地方，完全不懂这里的规矩，他会不会也觉得很奇怪，觉得自己像笨瓜？”
莉莉想了一会儿，最后说：“会。”
乔纳思说：“我觉得他蛮可怜的，虽然我不认识他，但是想到有人到了一个陌生的地方，对什么都好奇，又时时觉得自己很笨，我就为他感到难过。”
“你现在有什么感觉呢，莉莉？”爸爸问，“还在生气吗？”
“不生气了，”莉莉肯定地说，“我想他的确很可怜。很抱歉我曾经气得握拳头。”她微微一笑。
乔纳思也对妹妹笑了笑。莉莉的感觉非常直接、单纯，也非常容易解决。回想自己七岁的时候，应该也是同样的状况吧！
接下来轮到爸爸说话了，虽然乔纳思不够专心，但仍礼貌地表现出聆听的模样。爸爸解释当天因为有位新生儿成长得不太顺利，让他十分担心。乔纳思的爸爸是个养育师，每位新生儿在生命初期，不管是身体或情绪上的需求，都由像他这样的养育师来负责照顾。这是一份非常重要的工作，但乔纳思很清楚，他对这项工作始终不感兴趣。
“小宝宝是男生还是女生？”莉莉问。
“男生。”爸爸说，“长得很讨人喜欢，性情也很好。但是他的成长速度跟不上同龄的孩子，又睡得不安稳。我们把他转到特别看护区，给他补充更多的营养和照顾。但是，委员会已经在考虑要将他解放。”
“天哪！不会吧！”妈妈同情地叫了起来，“我知道你一定会很难过的。”
乔纳思和莉莉也同情地点点头。解放新生儿总是伤感，因为他没犯什么错，就丧失了享受社区生活的机会。
“解放”通常用来惩罚，只有两种情况例外：
一个是对老年人的解放庆典，欢庆一生丰足圆满；另一个就是新生儿的解放仪式，让人有万般无奈的感觉。对于养育师，比如像爸爸这样的人来说，那无异于是宣称自己的任务失败了，幸好这种情况很少发生。
“不过”，爸爸说，“我会加把劲儿努力改善的。我想要求委员会允许我晚上带他回家过夜，希望你们能同意。你们也知道那些夜班养育师的水准，我认为这个小家伙需要特别的照顾。”
“当然没问题。”妈妈说，乔纳思和莉莉也点点头。他们以前就听过爸爸抱怨晚班工作人员的素质不佳。由于要求不严，所以晚班的养育工作都由一些缺乏兴趣、技术较差或无法胜任白天工作的人来担任。也因为这样，有许多晚班的工作，是由申请不到配偶的人来担任的，偏偏他们天生缺乏跟别人互动的能力，而这却是建立家庭的必备素质。
“也许，我们可以把他留下来。”莉莉露出甜美的笑容，一副天真无邪的模样。乔纳思很清楚，那表情是装出来的，其他家人也都明白。
“莉莉，”妈妈笑着提醒她，“你明明知道规矩。”
两个小孩——一男加一女，这是每个家庭的标准模式。
社区法则里写得清清楚楚。
莉莉咯咯笑了起来。“好吧！”她说，“我还以为可以破例呢。”
接下来轮到妈妈说她的感受。妈妈在司法院地位很高，今天她审判了一位有前科的违规者。她原本希望这个人在上次犯规后，接受了公平的惩罚，会重新开始工作，融入家庭生活，没想到他又被带到她面前。她感到无比地沮丧和愤怒——她竟然对他的人生毫无影响，这一点甚至让她觉得愧疚。
“我很替他忧心，”她倾诉着，“你们也知道，法则上明明白白地规定，没有第三次机会了，如果第三次违规，就只有解放一条道儿了。”乔纳思打了个冷战，这种事发生过。在他十一岁的班上，有个男孩儿的爸爸在很多年前被解放了。
没有人敢提这件事，因为不光彩的事是禁止讨论的。这实在太难想象了。
莉莉站起来，走到妈妈身边，轻抚着妈妈的手臂。爸爸从他的座位上伸出手，握住妈妈的手。乔纳思则握住妈妈的另一只手。
他们一个接一个安慰妈妈，很快地，妈妈重展笑颜，说谢谢大家，自己的心情好多了。
分享的仪式继续进行，爸爸问：“乔纳思，你今天是最后一个喔。”
乔纳思叹了一口气。今晚，他宁可把自己的情绪隐藏起来，不过，当然喽，这是违反规定的。
“我非常地焦虑。”他坦白道，一边心底暗自高兴，终于找到贴切的字眼。
“为什么会这样呢，儿子？”爸爸露出关怀的神情。
“我知道其实没什么好担心的，”乔纳思解释说，“而且每位成年人都通过了这关。我知道爸爸是，妈妈也一样。现在十二月就快到了，一想到典礼我就焦虑不安。”
莉莉睁大眼睛往上看，用敬畏的声音小声说：“十二岁的典礼哇。”即使是小孩，就像莉莉，或比她更小的，也都知道自己未来要经历这道关卡。
“我很高兴你说出自己的感受。”爸爸说。
“莉莉，”妈妈对小女孩招招手说，“去做该做的事，先把睡衣换上。爸爸和我留在这里，跟乔纳思再多谈一会儿。”
莉莉叹了一口气，顺从地爬下椅子：“是个别谈话吗？”她问。
妈妈点点头说：“对，我们要跟乔纳思单独谈一谈。”
Chapter 2
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, I'm 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 Lily's 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 new children born in the previous year turned One. One at a time — there were always fifty in each year's group, if none had been released — they had been brought to the stage by the Nurturers 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 we'd receive our female, because we'd made our application and been approved. But I'd 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 it's right there in the office at the Nurturing Center.
"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 year's Naming list had been made yet. It was right there in the office, and I looked up number Thirty-six — that's the little guy I've 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 didn't 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 new child of his own.
He remembered his mother taking the new child 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 father's look of delight, and that his father had whispered, "She's one of my favorites. I was hoping for her to be the one." The crowd had clapped, and Jonas had grinned. He liked his sister's name. Lily, barely awake, had waved her small fist. Then they had stepped down to make room for the next family unit.
"When I was an Eleven," his father said now, "as you are, Jonas, I was very impatient, waiting for the Ceremony of Twelve. It's a long two days. I remember that I enjoyed the Ones, as I always do, but that I didn't pay much attention to the other ceremonies, except for my sister's. She became a Nine that year, and got her bicycle. I'd been teaching her to ride mine, even though technically I wasn't supposed to."
Jonas laughed. It was one of the few rules that was not taken very seriously and was almost always broken. The children all received their bicycles at Nine; they were not allowed to ride bicycles before then. But almost always, the older brothers and sisters had secretly taught the younger ones. Jonas had been thinking already about teaching Lily.
There was talk about changing the rule and giving the bicycles at an earlier age. A committee was studying the idea. When something went to a committee for study, the people always joked about it. They said that the committee members would become Elders by the time the rule change was made.
Rules were very hard to change. Sometimes, if it was a very important rule — unlike the one governing the age for bicycles — it would have to go, eventually, to The Receiver for a decision. The Receiver was the most important Elder. Jonas had never even seen him, that he knew of; someone in a position of such importance lived and worked alone. But the committee would never bother The Receiver with a question about bicycles; they would simply fret and argue about it themselves for years, until the citizens forgot that it had ever gone to them for study.
His father continued. "So I watched and cheered when my sister, Katya, became a Nine and removed her hair ribbons and got her bicycle," Father went on. "Then I didn't pay much attention to the Tens and Elevens. And finally, at the end of the second day, which seemed to go on forever, it was my turn. It was the Ceremony of Twelve."
Jonas shivered. He pictured his father, who must have been a shy and quiet boy, for he was a shy and quiet man, seated with his group, waiting to be called to the stage. The Ceremony of Twelve was the last of the Ceremonies. The most important.
"I remember how proud my parents looked — and my sister, too; even though she wanted to be out riding the bicycle publicly, she stopped fidgeting and was very still and attentive when my turn came.
"But to be honest, Jonas," his father said, "for me there was not the element of suspense that there is with your Ceremony. Because I was already fairly certain of what my Assignment was to be."
Jonas was surprised. There was no way, really, to know in advance. It was a secret selection, made by the leaders of the community, the Committee of Elders, who took the responsibility so seriously that there were never even any jokes made about Assignments.
His mother seemed surprised, too. "How could you have known?" she asked.
His father smiled his gentle smile. "Well, it was clear to me — and my parents later confessed that it had been obvious to them, too — what my aptitude was. I had always loved the new children more than anything. When my friends in my age group were holding bicycle races, or building toy vehicles or bridges with their construction sets, or — "
"All the things I do with my friends," Jonas pointed out, and his mother nodded in agreement.
"I always participated, of course, because as children we must experience all of those things. And I studied hard in school, as you do, Jonas. But again and again, during free time, I found myself drawn to the new children I spent almost all of my volunteer hours helping in the Nurturing Center. Of course the Elders knew that, from their observation."
Jonas nodded. During the past year he had been aware of the increasing level of observation. In school, at recreation time, and during volunteer hours, he had noticed the Elders watching him and the other Elevens. He had seen them taking notes. He knew, too, that the Elders were meeting for long hours with all of the instructors that he and the other Elevens had had during their years of school.
"So I expected it, and I was pleased, but not at all surprised, when my Assignment was announced as Nurturer," Father explained.
"Did everyone applaud, even though they weren't surprised?" Jonas asked.
"Oh, of course. They were happy for me, that my Assignment was what I wanted most. I felt very fortunate." His father smiled.
"Were any of the Elevens disappointed, your year?" Jonas asked. Unlike his father, he had no idea what his Assignment would be. But he knew that some would disappoint him. Though he respected his father's work, Nurturer would not be his wish. And he didn't envy Laborers at all.
His father thought. "No, I don't think so. Of course the Elders are so careful in their observations and selections."
"I think it's probably the most important job in our community," his mother commented.
"My friend Yoshiko was surprised by her selection as Doctor," Father said, "but she was thrilled. And let's see, there was Andrei — I remember that when we were boys he never wanted to do physical things. He spent all the recreation time he could with his construction set, and his volunteer hours were always on building sites. The Elders knew that, of course. Andrei was given the Assignment of Engineer and he was delighted."
"Andrei later designed the bridge that crosses the river to the west of town," Jonas's mother said. "It wasn't there when we were children."
"There are very rarely disappointments, Jonas. I don't think you need to worry about that," his father reassured him. "And if there are, you know there's an appeal process." But they all laughed at that — an appeal went to a committee for study.
"I worry a little about Asher's Assignment," Jonas confessed. "Asher's such fun. But he doesn't really have any serious interests. He makes a game out of everything."
His father chuckled. "You know," he said, "I remember when Asher was a new child at the Nurturing Center, before he was named. He never cried. He giggled and laughed at everything. All of us on the staff enjoyed nurturing Asher."
