Son (The Giver, #4)

by Lois Lowry

fourteen

They all looked alike, in their shapeless, smocklike dresses, with their identical haircuts; but personalities distinguished them. Nadia was funny, making a joke of everything; Miriam very solemn and shy; Suzanne was organized and efficient.

there would be no way for anyone to get caught in the act of wondering, Claire thought. It was an invisible thing, like a secret. She herself spent a great deal of time at it . . . wondering.

indoctrination,

Claire had never studied biology. At twelve, when the selections were made and the future jobs assigned, the children’s education took different paths.

Briefly she wondered about her parents, whether they ever thought of her—or, for that matter, of Peter. They had raised two children successfully, fulfilling the job of Adults with Spouses. Peter had achieved a highly prestigious Assignment. And she, Claire, had not. Birthmother. At the ceremony, standing on the stage to receive her Assignment, she had not been able to see her parents’ faces in the crowd. But she could imagine how they looked, how disappointed they would have been. They had hoped for more from their female child.

thought it might make him more responsive if I started using his name. So I sneaked into the office and took a look at the list.”

Gabriel?

how the solemn light eyes had stared at her, the way his hair curved around at the top of his head and lifted into a curl there,

Did Gabriel have light eyes?

Infants are born with big wide-spaced eyes, generally, and large heads, because that makes them look appealing to the adults of the species. So it ensures that they will be fed and cared for.

Cute. If they were born ugly, no one would want to pick them up, or smile at them, or talk to them. They wouldn’t get fed. They wouldn’t learn to smile or talk. They might not survive, if they didn’t appeal to the adults.”

we don’t have mammals anymore, because a healthy diet didn’t include mammal,

people once had things they called pets.

pets provided company for lonely people.

“Nobody’s lonely here,”

I am. I am lonely.

“Did you think about them all the time, and want to hold them and not ever leave them?” They looked at Claire as if she had said something preposterous, or unintelligible. She hastened to rephrase her question. “Or maybe I meant your mothers. Did your mothers cuddle your siblings and rock them, and, well—”

Secrecy was forbidden in the community, and the dream of the hidden newchild caused her to wake with a feeling of guilt and dread. But a stronger feeling was the one that stayed with her after that dream: the excitement of opening the drawer and seeing that he was still there, that he was safe and smiling.

she tried to examine her own feelings. She had never done so before,

She had never yearned for anything before. But now, ever since the day of the birth, she felt a yearning constantly, desperately, to fill the emptiness inside her. She wanted her child.

Yes, I have a spouse—she works over at Law and Justice. But we already have our complete family: boy first, then girl.

Definitely Jonah's dad

They match them pretty carefully. We’ve been very satisfied with ours.”

“I take him back to my dwelling at night,”

Baby Gabey

Who would want one?”

Abe? Was that it? It sounded, she thought, like Abe.

When an adult member of the community applied for a spouse, the committee pondered for months, sometimes even years, making the selection, matching the characteristics—energy level, intelligence, industriousness, other traits—that would make two people compatible.

Their pairing was watched and monitored for three years, after which they could apply for a child, if they wished.

It was as if they had lost interest in her. They. She wasn’t even sure who they were.

Claire had never been curious about those from Elsewhere. It was part of the contentment she had always known. Here had always been enough. Now, through the window, she stared at the heavy-laden moored boat and found herself wondering about its crew.

Jonas!”

Lmao I've been saying Jonah

It was Elsewhere, really, that she wondered about. But she felt uneasy.

“Sea,” Claire said. She hadn’t the slightest idea what that meant.

“Boating is men’s work, mostly.” “Oh.” Claire frowned. Men’s work? Women’s work? Here in the community, there was no such difference.

“Sea,” she repeated to herself, wondering what it might mean. Sea.

Claire wanted to ask, But what about Thirty-six? He’s still here, isn’t he? He wasn’t assigned, remember? You’re keeping him another year. He needs someone to play with him, doesn’t he? Couldn’t I be the one?

felt almost lured by the boat,

She turned away, feeling tears well in her eyes. What on earth was the matter with her? No one else seemed to feel this kind of passionate attachment to other humans. Not to a newchild, not to a spouse, or a coworker, or friend. She had not felt it toward her own parents or brother. But now, toward this wobbly, drooling toddler—

He knew she’d be back.

And so she was the one who felt things.

She would not let them take that from her, that feeling. If someone in authority noticed the error, if they delivered a supply of pills to her, she thought defiantly, she would pretend. She would cheat. But she would never, under any circumstances, stifle the feelings she had discovered. She would die, Claire realized, before she would give up the love she felt for her son.

“They’re not assigning him. And no more extensions, either. They’ve run out of patience with him. They voted today.”

The man shrugged. “You should say goodbye now. He’ll be sent on his way in the morning.” “On his way where?”

Something delayed the boat’s departure. Everyone was looking for something. Someone? Yes. It was that: Someone was missing.

So it was his son who had gone missing.

Now the nurturer spoke to her loudly. But what had he said? He took him! Jonas took the babe! Was that what he had shouted to her? Elsewhere! Elsewhere! (But what did that mean?)

She was with them, on the boat. The engine throbbed. They were leaving. Why was she, Claire, on the boat? They were headed Elsewhere. They said they would help her find the boy, and the baby. My son, she had told them, sobbing.

“selkie”

She was a human girl sent to them by the sea, who stayed among them for a time, became a woman, and went away again.

Alys had always yearned for a daughter and felt that the sea had sent this one to her.

“It will help when you learn them. Fear dims when you learn things.”

Fear is not knowing

He’s lonely, she thought. People say he’s angry, and hermitlike, but it’s loneliness that afflicts him.