乔纳思骑得很慢，试着在各栋建筑物的停车棚里找亚瑟的自行车。他不常跟朋友一起当义工，因为亚瑟爱打闹，会增加工作的难度。不过，十二岁就快到了，义工的时间和次数即将结束，一起工作影响不大。
能够自由选择当义工的地点，对乔纳思来说，是一天当中最棒的时光，因为其他的时间都被安排得满满当当。
他还记得自己八岁时，面对自由选择的情形。莉莉很快也就会有这样的机会。八岁的孩子第一次当义工，心中难免紧张，喜欢咯咯笑着招朋引伴。结果大家几乎不约而同地选择到娱乐中心帮助年幼的孩子，因为在熟悉的地方比较自在。但是经过适当地引导，他们慢慢地培养出自信，个性也日益成熟，就会慢慢转向有兴趣和符合志向的工作。
有一位名叫本杰明的十一岁男生，整整四年的义工时间就都投注在复健中心，帮助受伤的市民。据说他的技术跟复健中心的主管一样出色，他甚至还研发一些机器和手法来缩短复健时间。大家都相信本杰明一定会被指派到这个领域工作，说不定还可以获准跳过职前训练。
乔纳思非常佩服本杰明的成就，他们相同年龄，互相认识，却从未提过对方的专长，免得难堪。因为即使你不是故意的，可是只要当面提及或讨论别人的成就，就有违反不可吹嘘规定的嫌疑。这属于小规矩，跟鲁莽类似，顶多被当面温和地纠正。但即使如此，最好还是自我控制，连小错都不要犯才好。
住宅区已经落到身后去了，接下来是社区的主要建筑物，乔纳思希望可以在某个工厂或办公大楼外头看见亚瑟的自行车。他经过了莉莉下课后待的育儿中心旁边的游乐区，经过了中心广场和举行公共会议的大会堂，一路慢慢看着。
乔纳思放慢速度，顺着育婴中心外头那一排整整齐齐的自行车，寻找上头的名牌。接着来到食品配送中心——帮忙配送食品是一件很有趣的工作，他希望可以在这儿找到朋友，这样他们就可以把一箱箱的补给品，送给社区里的每户人家。最后，他终于发现了亚瑟的自行车——跟平常一样，不是好好的停在停车位上，而是斜斜地靠着——就靠在养老院的门口。
那里还有另一辆朋友的自行车，是费欧娜的，她今年也十一岁。乔纳思很喜欢费欧娜。她是个好学生，文静又有礼貌，为人也很风趣，因此他一点也不惊讶她会跟亚瑟一起工作。他把自行车紧挨着他们的车停好，然后走进建筑物里。
“你好，乔纳思。”柜台的接待员说。她递给他一张签到单，并在他签名旁边盖上自己的图章。所有他担任义工的时间和次数，都仔细地登录在表格中，保存在开放档案大厅里。孩子们中间悄悄流传着这样一个传说：很久以前，一位十一岁的孩子在升级十二岁的典礼上，大会宣布他义工时间不足，无法获得指派工作，他觉得非常伤心。后来大会答应额外给他一个月时间，让他补足义工服务次数，再单独指派给他一份工作。他就这样既没有获得大家的掌声，也没有在开始工作时得到祝贺，这个污点伴随了他一生。
“这里今天正缺人手。”接待员告诉他，“今天早上我们举行了一场解放庆典，耽搁了工作进度，现在得把落后的追回来。”她看着一张单子说：“亚瑟和费欧娜正在浴室里帮忙，干脆你也加入他们吧。你知道浴室在哪里，是不是？”
乔纳思点点头，谢过她，沿着长长的通道走进去。他瞥了一眼两旁的房间，房里有些老人安静地坐着，有的在交谈，有的在做简单的工艺品，还有一些睡得正甜。每个房间都铺着厚厚的地毯，布置得很舒适。这里是这样宁静、悠闲，节奏跟忙忙碌碌的制造中心和配送中心截然不同。
乔纳思很高兴自己在过去几年选择了不同的地方担任义工，获得了各种不同的经验（虽然他很清楚，就是因为这样他才未能在某个领域有杰出的表现)。他完全没有头绪——就算想猜也无从猜起——自己会被指派什么工作。
他微微一笑，再度想到典礼：乔纳思的未来是什么？随着日期的临近，他猜想他的朋友大都跟他一样心中无数。
看护陪着一位老人家慢慢穿过厅堂，“乔纳思，你好！”
穿制服的年轻人看见他，一边愉快地打招呼，一边小心地扶着身边老妇人的手臂。老人家弓着背，拖着缓慢的脚步往前走。她朝乔纳思的方向望过来，微微一笑，黝黑的眼睛里却空洞无神，乔纳思知道她瞎了。
他走进浴室。里头洋溢着温暖的湿气和沐浴乳的芳香。
他脱下外衣，小心地将它挂在墙壁的挂钩上，从柜子里拿出折叠得整整齐齐的义工罩衫穿上。
“嗨，乔纳思！”亚瑟跪在一个浴盆旁边朝他大叫。乔纳思看见费欧娜在附近另一个浴盆边。她抬头对他一笑，双手继续轻柔地帮躺在温水中的老人洗澡。
乔纳思跟大家打过招呼后，就走向等候区。那儿有一长排的斜背椅，供老人们坐着等候。他以前来过，知道该怎么做。
“莱莉莎，该您啦。”他读着老妇人外袍上的铭牌说，“我先放水，再过来帮您。”他把空浴盆的按钮往下压，温水立即从两侧的水龙头流出来。浴盆会在一分钟后注满，之后自动停水。
他扶着老妇人从椅子上站起来，脱掉她的外衣，并用手撑住她的臂膀，协助她稳稳地跨入浴盆，坐下身体。她缓缓地往后靠，愉悦地呼出一口气，将头枕在柔软的头垫上。
“舒服吗？”他问。她点点头，闭上眼睛。乔纳思站在浴盆外，将清洁乳液挤在海绵上，开始清洗她衰弱的身体。
昨天晚上，他观察过爸爸给小宝宝洗澡的情形。两者其实很接近：肌肤柔弱，需要无刺激性的水质、轻柔的手部动作以及湿滑的肥皂。老妇人脸上放松、祥和的笑容，让他想起加波洗澡的模样。
社区规定不管是大人或小孩，都不可以看别人的裸体，例外的是新生儿或老人。乔纳思比较喜欢这种例外，不像比赛时更换衣服，一个不小心瞥见别人的身体就要道歉，那可真烦人！他始终不了解为什么要制定这条规定。
他喜欢沉浸在浴室里这种温暖、安静和安全的感觉中；他喜欢看着老妇人毫无遮掩地躺在水中，面露信赖的神色。
从眼角余光中，他看见费欧娜正协助一位老人站起来，用吸水性很强的毛巾，轻轻拍干他瘦弱、赤裸的身躯，再帮他穿上罩袍。
乔纳思发现莱莉莎不知不觉进人梦乡了，很多老人都是这样的，所以他很小心地维持规律、轻柔的动作，以免惊醒她。当她闭着眼睛说话时，他着实吃了一惊。
“今天早上，我们为罗伯特举行了一场解放庆典。”她告诉乔纳思，“整个过程太完美了。”
“我认识罗伯特！”乔纳思说，“几个礼拜以前我来当义工的时候，还喂他吃东西。他是一位很有趣的人。”
莱莉莎快乐地张开眼睛，“解放以前，委员会照例又介绍了一遍他的生平。不过，老实说，”她用一种调皮的表情说，“有些人的生平听起来挺无聊的。我就看过有些老人在听艾德娜的生平时睡着了。你认识艾德娜吗？”
乔纳思摇摇头，想不起有谁叫做艾德娜。
“嗯，他们想要让她的生平听起来有意义一点。当然喽，”她加强语气说，“所有的生命都是有意义的，我无意批评别人。但是，艾德娜，我的老天，她只是一名孕母，生完孩子后就到食品制造厂工作，最后才来这里。她甚至没有成立家庭呢。”
莱莉莎抬起头张望了一下，确定没有其他人听到，才又继续吐露：“我觉得艾德娜不是很聪明。”
乔纳思笑了笑，冲冲她的左手臂，放入水中，开始洗她的脚。当他用海绵轻轻搓摩时，她不禁发出舒服的呢喃声。
“但是，罗伯特的人生就很精彩。”莱莉莎继续说，“他曾经担任十一岁的老师——你知道，这是多么重要的工作一一他也在企划委员会任过职。而且，真不知他哪来那么多时间，还把两个小孩教养得很好，并且设计了中央广场的景观。当然，他不用亲自动手做。”
“现在要洗背了，身子请往前倾，我会帮您坐起来的。”
乔纳思用手臂环住她，协助她坐好。他用海绵搓洗她瘦骨嶙峋的背部：“庆典都做些什么？”
“一开始是介绍他的生平，然后举杯祝贺。我们全举起酒杯，欢呼干杯。接着唱赞美诗，然后他发表了一篇感人的告别演说。我们当中也有人发言，祝福他一切顺利。不过，我没有讲。我不喜欢在众人面前讲话。
他很激动，当委员会让他离开的时候，你应该瞧瞧他脸上的表情。”
乔纳思抚背的动作慢了下来，陷入沉思：“莱莉莎，解放到底是怎么一回事？罗伯特到哪里去了？”
她轻耸了一下肩膀：“我也不知道。除了委员会，应该没人知道。他只是对我们鞠个躬，然后就走了出去，跟以往那些人一样，穿过那道特殊的门，进入解放室。但是，你应该看看他的表情，在我来看，那才是真正的幸福和快乐。”
乔纳思微微一笑：“真希望我也在场。”
莱莉莎皱皱眉头：“我不懂他们为什么不让孩子参加。
可能是场地不够大吧！他们应该扩建解放室。”
“我们可以跟委员会建议啊，也许他们会考虑的。”乔纳思顽皮地说，莱莉莎听了咯咯大笑。
“没错！”她朗声说着，乔纳思帮她跨出浴盆。
Chapter 5
Usually, at the morning ritual when the family members told their dreams, Jonas didn't contribute much. He rarely dreamed. Sometimes he awoke with a feeling of fragments afloat in his sleep, but he couldn't seem to grasp them and put them together into something worthy of telling at the ritual.
But this morning was different. He had dreamed very vividly the night before.
His mind wandered while Lily, as usual, recounted a lengthy dream, this one a frightening one in which she had, against the rules, been riding her mother's bicycle and been caught by the Security Guards.
They all listened carefully and discussed with Lily the warning that the dream had given.
"Thank you for your dream, Lily." Jonas said the standard phrase automatically, and tried to pay better attention while his mother told of a dream fragment, a disquieting scene where she had been chastised for a rule infraction she didn't understand. Together they agreed that it probably resulted from her feelings when she had reluctantly dealt punishment to the citizen who had broken the major rules a second time.
Father said that he had had no dreams.
"Gabe?" Father asked, looking down at the basket where the new child lay gurgling after his feeding, ready to be taken back to the Nurturing Center for the day.
They all laughed. Dream-telling began with Threes. If new children dreamed, no one knew.
"Jonas?" Mother asked. They always asked, though they knew how rarely Jonas had a dream to tell.
"I did dream last night," Jonas told them. He shifted in his chair, frowning.
"Good," Father said. "Tell us."
"The details aren't clear, really," Jonas explained, trying to recreate the odd dream in his mind. "I think I was in the bathing room at the House of the Old."
"That's where you were yesterday," Father pointed out.
Jonas nodded. "But it wasn't really the same. There was a tub, in the dream. But only one. And the real bathing room has rows and rows of them. But the room in the dream was warm and damp. And I had taken off my tunic, but hadn't put on the smock, so my chest was bare. I was perspiring, because it was so warm. And Fiona was there, the way she was yesterday."
"Asher, too?" Mother asked.
Jonas shook his head. "No. It was only me and Fiona, alone in the room, standing beside the tub. She was laughing. But I wasn't. I was almost a little angry at her, in the dream, because she wasn't taking me seriously."
"Seriously about what?" Lily asked.
Jonas looked at his plate. For some reason that he didn't understand, he felt slightly embarrassed. "I think I was trying to convince her that she should get into the tub of water."
He paused. He knew he had to tell it all, that it was not only all right but necessary to tell all of a dream. So he forced himself to relate the part that made him uneasy.
"I wanted her to take off her clothes and get into the tub," he explained quickly. "I wanted to bathe her. I had the sponge in my hand. But she wouldn't. She kept laughing and saying no."
He looked up at his parents. "That's all," he said.
"Can you describe the strongest feeling in your dream, son?" Father asked.
Jonas thought about it. The details were murky and vague. But the feelings were clear, and flooded him again now as he thought. "The wanting," he said. "I knew that she wouldn't. And I think I knew that she shouldn't. But I wanted it so terribly. I could feel the wanting all through me."
"Thank you for your dream, Jonas," Mother said after a moment. She glanced at Father.
"Lily," Father said, "it's time to leave for school. Would you walk beside me this morning and keep an eye on the new child basket? We want to be certain he doesn't wiggle himself loose."
Jonas began to rise to collect his schoolbooks. He thought it surprising that they hadn't talked about his dream at length before the thank you. Perhaps they found it as confusing as he had.
"Wait, Jonas," Mother said gently. "I'll write an apology to your instructor so that you won't have to speak one for being late."
He sank back down into his chair, puzzled. He waved to Father and Lily as they left the dwelling, carrying Gabe in his basket. He watched while Mother tidied the remains of the morning meal and placed the tray by the front door for the Collection Crew.
Finally she sat down beside him at the table. "Jonas," she said with a smile, "the feeling you described as the wanting? It was your first Stirrings. Father and I have been expecting it to happen to you. It happens to everyone. It happened to Father when he was your age. And it happened to me. It will happen someday to Lily.
"And very often," Mother added, "it begins with a dream."
Stirrings. He had heard the word before. He remembered that there was a reference to the Stirrings in the Book of Rules, though he didn't remember what it said. And now and then the Speaker mentioned it. ATTENTION. A REMINDER THAT STIRRINGS MUST BE REPORTED IN ORDER FOR TREATMENT TO TAKE PLACE.
He had always ignored that announcement because he didn't understand it and it had never seemed to apply to him in any way. He ignored, as most citizens did, many of the commands and reminders read by the Speaker.
"Do I have to report it?" he asked his mother.
She laughed. "You did, in the dream-telling. That's enough."
"But what about the treatment? The Speaker says that treatment must take place." Jonas felt miserable. Just when the Ceremony was about to happen, his Ceremony of Twelve, would he have to go away someplace for treatment? Just because of a stupid dream?
But his mother laughed again in a reassuring, affectionate way. "No, no," she said. "It's just the pills. You're ready for the pills, that's all. That's the treatment for Stirrings."
Jonas brightened. He knew about the pills. His parents both took them each morning. And some of his friends did, he knew. Once he had been heading off to school with Asher, both of them on their bikes, when Asher's father had called from their dwelling doorway, "You forgot your pill, Asher!" Asher had groaned good-naturedly, turned his bike, and ridden back while Jonas waited.
It was the sort of thing one didn't ask a friend about because it might have fallen into that uncomfortable category of "being different." Asher took a pill each morning; Jonas did not. Always better, less rude, to talk about things that were the same.
Now he swallowed the small pill that his mother handed him.
"That's all?" he asked.
"That's all," she replied, returning the bottle to the cupboard. "But you mustn't forget. I'll remind you for the first weeks, but then you must do it on your own. If you forget, the Stirrings will come back. The dreams of Stirrings will come back. Sometimes the dosage must be adjusted."
"Asher takes them," Jonas confided.
His mother nodded, unsurprised. "Many of your group mates probably do. The males, at least. And they all will, soon. Females too."
"How long will I have to take them?"
"Until you enter the House of the Old," she explained.
"All of your adult life. But it becomes routine; after a while you won't even pay much attention to it."
She looked at her watch. "If you leave right now, you won't even be late for school. Hurry along.
"And thank you again, Jonas," she added, as he went to the door, "for your dream."
Pedaling rapidly down the path, Jonas felt oddly proud to have joined those who took the pills. For a moment, though, he remembered the dream again. The dream had felt pleasurable. Though the feelings were confused, he thought that he had liked the feelings that his mother had called Stirrings. He remembered that upon waking, he had wanted to feel the Stirrings again.
Then, in the same way that his own dwelling slipped away behind him as he rounded a corner on his bicycle, the dream slipped away from his thoughts. Very briefly, a little guiltily, he tried to grasp it back. But the feelings had disappeared. The Stirrings were gone.
