The GIver Ch. 21

The GIver Ch. 21

This document is Chapter 21 of The Giver by Lois Lowry, which depicts the dramatic turning point where Jonas is forced to flee his community after learning that Gabriel — the toddler he has grown attached to — is scheduled to be “released” (which Jonas knows means killed) the very next morning. Unable to let that happen, Jonas steals his father’s bicycle (which has a child seat), takes food from doorsteps, and escapes in the middle of the night with Gabriel strapped to his back, using soothing memories to keep the baby calm and asleep. He crosses the bridge over the river, leaving his entire life behind without fear or regret, though with deep sadness at leaving The Giver. During their journey, Jonas and Gabriel travel only at night and hide during the day, as search planes equipped with heat-seeking technology are sent out to find them. Jonas combats this by transmitting memories of snow and cold to himself and Gabriel, making them undetectable by the heat sensors. As days pass, Jonas grows physically stronger despite his exhaustion, and the two survive on scavenged food and stream water. The chapter ends on a note of cautious relief as the search planes gradually become less frequent, suggesting that the community may be giving up the hunt, though Jonas remains vigilant as he and Gabriel continue riding toward an unknown destination and an uncertain future.

  • newtopiccyclegrowin
166
/ 5
Chapter 21
It would work. They could make it work, Jonas told himself again and again throughout the day.
But that evening everything changed. All of it—all the things they had thought through so
meticulously—fell apart.
That night, Jonas was forced to flee. He left the dwelling 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 dwellings
and the empty Central Plaza, toward the river. Beyond the Plaza he could see the House of the Old,
with the Annex 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, hunched over on the bicycle, pedaling steadily. 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 chattering
away, Mother and Father making their customary comments (and lies, Jonas knew) about the day.
Nearby, Gabriel played happily on the floor, babbling 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 Nurturing 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,
apparently. 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 briefly, 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
inconvenient. 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 condemned.
First, he had left the dwelling at night. A major transgression.
Second, he had robbed the community of food: a very serious crime, even though what he had taken
was leftovers, set out on the dwelling doorsteps for collection.
Third, he had stolen his father's bicycle. He had hesitated for a moment, standing beside the bikeport
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, strapped 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 soothing memory he could: a slow-swinging
hammock under palm trees on an island someplace, at evening, with a rhythmic sound of languid
water lapping hypnotically against a beach nearby. As the memory seeped from him into the
newchild, 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 numb.
At dawn Gabriel began to stir. They were in an isolated place; fields on either side of the road were
dotted with thickets of trees here and there. He saw a stream, and made his way to it across a rutted,
bumpy meadow; Gabriel, wide awake now, giggled as the bicycle jolted him up and down.
Jonas unstrapped Gabe, lifted him from the bike, and watched him investigate the grass and twigs
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 newchild play.
He was exhausted. 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 newchild 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 tickles 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
soothingly. Then he pressed his hands firmly and transmitted a memory of deep, contented
exhaustion. Gabriel's head nodded, after a moment, and fell against Jonas's chest.
Together the fugitives slept through the first dangerous day.
/ 5
End of Document
166
You May Also Like

FAQs of The GIver Ch. 21

Related of The GIver Ch. 21