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记忆传授人|The Giver

第二十三章向往的地方|Chapter 23

属类：双语小说【分类】魔幻小说阅读：[9902] 登录会员即可添加到文库收藏夹，方便以后查看

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黑夜慢慢地笼罩下来，乔纳思越来越肯定，目的地就在前方不远处。只是，没有任何感官支持他的感觉。除了无数条迂回交叉展开在前面的狭窄道路，他什么都看不见，什么都听不见。

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他感觉得到“别处”就在不远的地方，却不确定自己是否到得了。冰冷的空中开始飘下无数回旋的小白点，模糊了他的视线，他的希望也更加渺茫了。

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加波身上只裹着薄薄的毯子，他弓起身子发抖，却仍乖乖地坐在后座上，不做声。乔纳思担心地停下自行车，将孩子抱下来，心疼地发觉加波的身子非常冰冷、虚弱。

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现在他们站在寒冷的山丘上，双脚快要瘫软了。乔纳思打开上衣，将加波搂进赤裸的怀里，再将那条破烂、肮脏的毯子盖在两人身上。加波抵着他，无力地蠕动着，发出微弱的呜咽声，四周再度恢复到无边的沉静之中。

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那模糊视线的小东西，突然触动了乔纳思久已遗忘的记忆，他想起这小白点是什么了。

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“这叫做雪，加波！”乔纳思轻声说，“雪花从天空飘下来，好美啊！快看！”

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这个好奇、机警的小孩现在没有反应了。乔纳思在夜色中看见他小小的脸蛋靠在自己的胸膛上，原本鬈曲的头发早已黯淡无光、污秽不堪，苍白的脸颊上留着两道小泪痕。他双眼紧闭，一片雪花正好落在他轻轻颤动的眼帘上，带来瞬间的闪光。

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他再度蹬着自行车用力往前踩，一段陡哨的山丘赫然耸立眼前。即使是大晴天，想骑上这座山丘都非常困难，更何况现在雪越下越急、越下越大，遮蔽了整条狭窄的道路。乔纳思用麻木、疲惫不堪的双脚努力蹬着踏板，但是前轮几乎没有在转动。最后自行车停了下来，再也无法前进了。

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乔纳思下车，任由自行车翻倒在雪地上。他好想也倒在自行车旁，和加波一起投进大雪柔软的怀抱，贴向夜晚阴暗的胸膛，沉入温暖舒适的梦乡。

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但是已经走这么长的路了，他一定要继续走下去。

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原有的记忆已经被他抛得远远的了，脱离他的保护，重新回流到社区人的头脑里。他还保有什么记忆吗？他还拥有最后一丝的暖意吗？他还有力气去传送记忆吗？加波能不能接收得到？

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他将双手放在加波的背上，试着去回想阳光。一开始，似乎什么反应也没有，就在他的能量快耗尽的当儿，突然有一丝细微的热感爬上他冻僵的双脚和腿上。他的脸庞开始发红，手上原本紧绷、冰寒的肌肤，也开始放松了。他多么想保留这股热气，让自己曝晒在阳光下，不再忍受寒冷的痛苦。

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但这念头稍纵即逝,他迫切地想把这股暖意跟怀中的小人儿分享。传送的过程让他痛苦万分，他还是尽力把温暖的记忆转移到他手上那瘦弱、颤抖的身躯上。

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加波抖动了一下。好一会儿，他们就这样拥抱着彼此。

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虽然身边依然是令人目眩的白雪，却感觉自己在温暖中获得重生的力量。

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乔纳思开始步上山丘。

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记忆短暂得令人扼腕。在黑夜中，他没走几步，暖意就消失了，他们再度回到冰冷的天地中。

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但是他的内心已经警醒了。即使他只被温暖了片刻，却足以赶走所有的倦意和沮丧，重拾求生的意志。他移动没有知觉的双脚，快步前行。这座山丘故意刁难似的特别陡峭，白雪和疲惫还是阻碍他的前进。他没走多远，就绊倒在地。

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膝盖是那样沉重，他再试一次。他的意识又捕捉到另一个温暖的记忆，他赶紧留住它，让它扩大，再传送给加波。

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通过这短暂的温暖，他的精神和力气又提振起来，他站了起来，继续往上爬，怀里的加波也跟着动了一下。

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但是记忆很快又消退了，只留给他更冰冷的现实。

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要是他在逃跑前，从传授人那边接收到更多温暖的记忆就好了！不过，现在想象这些假设的状况已于事无补，当务之急是专心移动脚步，让加波和自己能保持温暖，继续前进。

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他往上爬，停下来，再利用片断的记忆，让两个人重获温暖，那段记忆很有可能是仅存的了。

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山顶看起来如此的遥远，他也不清楚山后头是什么，但眼前别无选择。他迈着沉重的步伐继续往上走。

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快接近山顶的时候，情况有了转变。他不再获得温暖，感觉上更虚弱、更寒冷。同时他并非不再感到举步维艰，一双冻僵的脚、累极了的双腿，就快要抬不起来了。

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但是，突然间，他觉得好快乐。他回想起快乐的时光，他想起自己的爸爸妈妈，想起妹妹。他想起朋友，亚瑟和费欧娜。他想起传授人。

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欢乐的回忆在他全身弥漫开来。

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他抵达山顶了。他可以感觉到覆满白雪的双脚现在是踩在平坦的土地上了，再也不用往上爬了。

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“我们快要到了，加波。”他轻声地说，内心涌出莫名的信心。“我记得这个地方，加波。”这是真的！这不是一个微弱、模糊的回忆，这次不一样。这是一个他可以永远保留的记忆，一个属于他自己的记忆。

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他抱紧加波，轻快地抚摩他，给他温暖，让他继续活下去。寒风凜冽，大雪依然纷飞，模糊了他的视线。但是某个地方就在眼前，只要穿越这层眩目的风雪，他们就可以寻到温暖和光亮。

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乔纳思运用最后一丝力气，以及内在那种奇特的知识，找到了山顶上那架久候他们的雪橇。他用麻木的双手摸索着绳索。

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他们开始往下滑。

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乔纳思觉得自己正逐渐失去意识，他集中意志力让自己在雪橇上坐正，手里紧护住加波。滑板迅速地滑过雪地，风儿扑向他的脸庞，当他们笔直地滑过一个路口时，目的地似乎已经在望，那是一个他等候已久、包括了他们的未来和过去的所在。

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在下滑的路程中，他强迫自己睁开眼睛。他看见灯光了，他终于认出那是什么，他知道那是从窗口透出来的灯光，在屋里有棵大树，树上悬挂着红灯、蓝灯和黄灯，一家人正在欢庆爱的喜悦，共创美好的回忆。

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雪橇一路下滑，再下滑，速度越来越快。突然间，他很肯定，欢乐已在前方和下头等着他，也在等着小宝宝。头一次，他听见了美妙的音乐，也听见了人们的歌声。

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穿越广大的时空，乔纳思仿佛听见他远离的那个地方也响起了美妙的音乐，不过，也许那只是回音罢了！

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附录认识洛伊丝·劳里

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洛伊丝·劳里，1937年3月出生于夏威夷，父亲在军中担任牙医，他们一家人也随着军队迁移世界各地。二次大战期间，她住在外祖父母位于宾州的老家，十一岁到上高中之前，则在日本度过。后来她进布朗大学就读，但只修完两年课程便结婚了，直到生完四个孩子后才重拾学业，从南缅因大学毕业。

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洛伊丝·劳里的写作生涯起步较晚，四十岁时才尝试完成小时候的梦想——当一名作家。结果却一鸣惊人，如今她不但是世界知名的作家，还获得两次纽伯瑞金牌奖的肯定。除了写作儿童小说、短篇故事，她也撰写评论、专业的论文。

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她的写作素材非常广泛，风格多样，有生活幽默小说《阿纳斯塔西亚·克鲁布尼克》(AnastasiaKrupnik）、谈战争与屠杀的《数星星》(Number theStars）、描写未来乌托邦社会的《记忆传授人》（The Giver），此外还有涉及收养、精神疾病、癌症等议题的二十多本著作，堪称是一位多才、多变的作家。

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其实她本身就是一位很懂得过生活的人，她好学不倦，博览群书，闲暇时喜好编织、桥牌和园艺。此外，她还是烹饪高手，收藏了各式各样的食谱书。除了作家头衔外，她还是一位专业摄影师，通过作家独具的慧眼，构思出一帧帧颇具深度的影像。

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《记忆传授人》是洛伊丝·劳里第二本获纽伯瑞奖的科幻小说，灵感来自小时候居住在日本的经验。那段日子里，由于父母的刻意保护，不论衣、食、教育，她都过着和在美国时一模一样的生活。这样的生活虽然安逸、舒适，但相对地也少了接触异国文化的刺激与惊喜。所以成年后的她一直在思索，是否住在一切都控制良好、生活无忧的环境中，就能够获得幸福？

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洛伊丝·劳里试图在书中让读者和主角一起思索这个问题，而关注青少年所面对的各种不完美的人生、人际关系，正是她成功的地方。

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Jonas felt more and more certain that the destination lay ahead of him, very near now in the night that was approaching. None of his senses confirmed it. He saw nothing ahead except the endless ribbon of road unfolding in twisting narrow curves. He heard no sound ahead.

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Yet he felt it: felt that Elsewhere was not far away. But he had little hope left that he would be able to reach it. His hope diminished further when the sharp, cold air began to blur and thicken with swirling white.

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Gabriel, wrapped in his inadequate blanket, was hunched , shivering, and silent in his little seat. Jonas stopped the bike wearily, lifted the child down, and realized with heartbreak how cold and weak Gabe had become.

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Standing in the freezing mound that was thickening around his numb feet, Jonas opened his own tunic , held Gabriel to his bare chest, and tied the torn and dirty blanket around them both. Gabriel moved feebly against him and whimpered briefly into the silence that surrounded them.

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Dimly, from a nearly forgotten perception as blurred as the substance itself, Jonas recalled what the whiteness was.

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"It’s called snow, Gabe," Jonas whispered. "Snowflakes. They fall down from the sky, and they’re very beautiful."

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There was no response from the child who had once been so curious and alert. Jonas looked down through the dusk at the little head against his chest. Gabriel’s curly hair was matted and filthy , and there were tearstains outlined in dirt on his pale cheeks. His eyes were closed. As Jonas watched, a snowflake drifted down and was caught briefly for a moment’s sparkle in the tiny fluttering eyelashes.

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Wearily he remounted the bicycle. A steep hill loomed ahead. In the best of conditions, the hill would have been a difficult, demanding ride. But now the rapidly deepening snow obscured the narrow road and made the ride impossible. His front wheel moved forward imperceptibly as he pushed on the pedals with his numb, exhausted legs. But the bicycle stopped. It would not move.

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He got off and let it drop sideways into the snow. For a moment he thought how easy it would be to drop beside it himself, to let himself and Gabriel slide into the softness of snow, the darkness of night, the warm comfort of sleep.

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But he had come this far. He must try to go on.

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The memories had fallen behind him now, escaping from his protection to return to the people of his community. Were there any left at all? Could he hold on to a last bit of warmth? Did he still have the strength to Give? Could Gabriel still Receive?

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He pressed his hands into Gabriel’s back and tried to remember sunshine. For a moment it seemed that nothing came to him, that his power was completely gone. Then it flickered suddenly, and he felt tiny tongues of heat begin to creep across and into his frozen feet and legs. He felt his face begin to glow and the tense, cold skin of his arms and hands relax. For a fleeting second he felt that he wanted to keep it for himself, to let himself bathe in sunlight, unburdened by anything or anyone else.

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But the moment passed and was followed by an urge, a need, a passionate yearning to share the warmth with the one person left for him to love. Aching from the effort, he forced the memory of warmth into the thin, shivering body in his arms.

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Gabriel stirred. For a moment they both were bathed in warmth and renewed strength as they stood hugging each other in the blinding snow.

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Jonas began to walk up the hill.

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The memory was agonizingly brief. He had trudged no more than a few yards through the night when it was gone and they were cold again.

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But his mind was alert now. Warming himself ever so briefly had shaken away the lethargy and resignation and restored his will to survive. He began to walk faster on feet that he could no longer feel. But the hill was treacherously steep; he was impeded by the snow and his own lack of strength. He didn’t make it very far before he stumbled and fell forward.

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On his knees, unable to rise, Jonas tried a second time. His consciousness grasped at a wisp of another warm memory, and tried desperately to hold it there, to enlarge it and pass it into Gabriel. His spirits and strength lifted with the momentary warmth and he stood. Again, Gabriel stirred against him as he began to climb.

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But the memory faded, leaving him colder than before.

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If only he had had time to receive more warmth from The Giver before he escaped! Maybe there would be more left for him now. But there was no purpose in if-onlys. His entire concentration now had to be on moving his feet, warming Gabriel and himself, and going forward.

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He climbed, stopped, and warmed them both briefly again, with a tiny scrap of memory that seemed certainly to be all he had left.

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The top of the hill seemed so far away, and he did not know what lay beyond. But there was nothing left to do but continue. He trudged upward.

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As he approached the summit of the hill at last, something began to happen. He was not warmer; if anything, he felt more numb and more cold. He was not less exhausted; on the contrary, his steps were leaden, and he could barely move his freezing, tired legs.

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But he began, suddenly, to feel happy. He began to recall happy times. He remembered his parents and his sister. He remembered his friends, Asher and Fiona. He remembered The Giver.

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Memories of joy flooded through him suddenly.

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He reached the place where the hill crested and he could feel the ground under his snow-covered feet become level. It would not be uphill anymore.

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"We’re almost there, Gabriel," he whispered, feeling quite certain without knowing why. "I remember this place, Gabe." And it was true. But it was not a grasping of a thin and burdensome recollection; this was different. This was something that he could keep. It was a memory of his own.

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He hugged Gabriel and rubbed him briskly, warming him, to keep him alive. The wind was bitterly cold. The snow swirled , blurring his vision. But somewhere ahead, through the blinding storm, he knew there was warmth and light.

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Using his final strength, and a special knowledge that was deep inside him, Jonas found the sled that was waiting for them at the top of the hill. Numbly his hands fumbled for the rope.

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He settled himself on the sled and hugged Gabe close. The hill was steep but the snow was powdery and soft, and he knew that this time there would be no ice, no fall, no pain. Inside his freezing body, his heart surged with hope.

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They started down.

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Jonas felt himself losing consciousness and with his whole being willed himself to stay upright atop the sled, clutching Gabriel, keeping him safe. The runners sliced through the snow and the wind whipped at his face as they sped in a straight line through an incision that seemed to lead to the final destination, the place that he had always felt was waiting, the Elsewhere that held their future and their past.

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He forced his eyes open as they went downward, downward, sliding, and all at once he could see lights, and he recognized them now. He knew they were shining through the windows of rooms, that they were the red, blue, and yellow lights that twinkled from trees in places where families created and kept memories, where they celebrated love.

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Downward, downward, faster and faster. Suddenly he was aware with certainty and joy that below, ahead, they were waiting for him; and that they were waiting, too, for the baby. For the first time, he heard something that he knew to be music. He heard people singing.

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Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.

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The End

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世界名著双语阅读：

傲慢与偏见小妇人鲁滨逊漂流记哈姆莱特名利场十日谈不平静的坟墓人性的枷锁飘诱拐杀死一只知更鸟黑骏马老人与海苏格兰玛丽女王朗读者故园风雨后董贝父子复活木偶奇遇记劝导斯泰尔斯庄园奇案无名的裘德童年血字的研究月亮和六便士永别了，武器英雄艾文荷夏洛的网败坏了哈德莱堡的人罪与罚

古代小说：

大明正德皇游江南传大唐秦王词话粉妆楼红楼复梦济公全传九尾龟郡斋读书志兰花梦聊斋志异女仙外史品花宝鉴儒林外史水浒传无耻奴续济公传薛刚反唐雍正剑侠图于公案初刻拍案惊奇警世通言醒世恒言喻世明言封神演义西游记二十年目睹之怪现状今古奇观金瓶梅词话（万历本）

历史演义：

残唐五代史演义传东汉秘史后汉演义两晋演义民国演义上下卷明史演义清史演义三国演义说唐宋史演义元史演义赵太祖三下南唐民国演义

古代小说：

古汉语：

古文观止山海经

历史演义：

残唐五代史演义传东汉秘史后汉演义两晋演义民国演义上下卷明史演义清史演义三国演义说唐宋史演义元史演义赵太祖三下南唐民国演义

中国古诗词：

全唐诗

古汉语：

古文观止山海经

古代小说：

历史演义：

残唐五代史演义传东汉秘史后汉演义两晋演义民国演义上下卷明史演义清史演义三国演义说唐宋史演义元史演义赵太祖三下南唐民国演义

历史：

史记隋唐两朝志传唐书志传新元史资治通鉴高丽史清史稿汉书后汉书三国志晋书宋书南齐书梁书陈书魏书北齐书周书隋书南史北史全唐文旧唐书新唐书旧五代史新五代史宋史辽史金史元史

当代文学：

朝花夕拾而已集二心集彷徨1926年坟古小说钩沈故事新编　目录华盖集华盖集续编集外集集外集拾遗南腔北调集呐喊且介亭杂文且介亭杂文二集且介亭杂文末编三闲集伪自由书中国小说的历史的变迁中国小说史略准风月谈

其他文献：

三民主义

科技文献：

梦溪笔谈天工开物徐霞客游记

世界名著：

1984 八十天环游地球摆渡人邦斯舅舅北回归线变形记查泰莱夫人的情人大卫·科波菲尔第二十二条军规父与子钢铁是怎样炼成的哈姆莱特幻灭交际花盛衰记静静的顿河九三年理想国理智与情感麦田里的守望者曼斯菲尔德庄园牛虻匹克威克外传飘钦差大臣莎乐美失乐园汤姆叔叔的小屋瓦尔登湖我的大学羊皮卷

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第二十三章 向往的地方|Chapter 23

黑夜慢慢地笼罩下来，乔纳思越来越肯定，目的地就在前方不远处。只是，没有任何感官支持他的感觉。除了无数条迂回交叉展开在前面的狭窄道路，他什么都看不见，什么都听不见。

他感觉得到“别处”就在不远的地方，却不确定自己是否到得了。冰冷的空中开始飘下无数回旋的小白点，模糊了他的视线，他的希望也更加渺茫了。

加波身上只裹着薄薄的毯子，他弓起身子发抖，却仍乖乖地坐在后座上，不做声。乔纳思担心地停下自行车，将孩子抱下来，心疼地发觉加波的身子非常冰冷、虚弱。

现在他们站在寒冷的山丘上，双脚快要瘫软了。乔纳思打开上衣，将加波搂进赤裸的怀里，再将那条破烂、肮脏的毯子盖在两人身上。加波抵着他，无力地蠕动着，发出微弱的呜咽声，四周再度恢复到无边的沉静之中。

那模糊视线的小东西，突然触动了乔纳思久已遗忘的记忆，他想起这小白点是什么了。

“这叫做雪，加波！”乔纳思轻声说，“雪花从天空飘下来，好美啊！快看！”

乔纳思下车，任由自行车翻倒在雪地上。他好想也倒在自行车旁，和加波一起投进大雪柔软的怀抱，贴向夜晚阴暗的胸膛，沉入温暖舒适的梦乡。

但是已经走这么长的路了，他一定要继续走下去。

原有的记忆已经被他抛得远远的了，脱离他的保护，重新回流到社区人的头脑里。他还保有什么记忆吗？他还拥有最后一丝的暖意吗？他还有力气去传送记忆吗？加波能不能接收得到？

但这念头稍纵即逝,他迫切地想把这股暖意跟怀中的小人儿分享。传送的过程让他痛苦万分，他还是尽力把温暖的记忆转移到他手上那瘦弱、颤抖的身躯上。

加波抖动了一下。好一会儿，他们就这样拥抱着彼此。

虽然身边依然是令人目眩的白雪，却感觉自己在温暖中获得重生的力量。

乔纳思开始步上山丘。

记忆短暂得令人扼腕。在黑夜中，他没走几步，暖意就消失了，他们再度回到冰冷的天地中。

膝盖是那样沉重，他再试一次。他的意识又捕捉到另一个温暖的记忆，他赶紧留住它，让它扩大，再传送给加波。

通过这短暂的温暖，他的精神和力气又提振起来，他站了起来，继续往上爬，怀里的加波也跟着动了一下。

但是记忆很快又消退了，只留给他更冰冷的现实。

要是他在逃跑前，从传授人那边接收到更多温暖的记忆就好了！不过，现在想象这些假设的状况已于事无补，当务之急是专心移动脚步，让加波和自己能保持温暖，继续前进。

他往上爬，停下来，再利用片断的记忆，让两个人重获温暖，那段记忆很有可能是仅存的了。

山顶看起来如此的遥远，他也不清楚山后头是什么，但眼前别无选择。他迈着沉重的步伐继续往上走。

快接近山顶的时候，情况有了转变。他不再获得温暖，感觉上更虚弱、更寒冷。同时他并非不再感到举步维艰，一双冻僵的脚、累极了的双腿，就快要抬不起来了。

但是，突然间，他觉得好快乐。他回想起快乐的时光，他想起自己的爸爸妈妈，想起妹妹。他想起朋友，亚瑟和费欧娜。他想起传授人。

欢乐的回忆在他全身弥漫开来。

他抵达山顶了。他可以感觉到覆满白雪的双脚现在是踩在平坦的土地上了，再也不用往上爬了。

“我们快要到了，加波。”他轻声地说，内心涌出莫名的信心。“我记得这个地方，加波。”这是真的！这不是一个微弱、模糊的回忆，这次不一样。这是一个他可以永远保留的记忆，一个属于他自己的记忆。

他抱紧加波，轻快地抚摩他，给他温暖，让他继续活下去。寒风凜冽，大雪依然纷飞，模糊了他的视线。但是某个地方就在眼前，只要穿越这层眩目的风雪，他们就可以寻到温暖和光亮。

乔纳思运用最后一丝力气，以及内在那种奇特的知识，找到了山顶上那架久候他们的雪橇。他用麻木的双手摸索着绳索。

他们开始往下滑。

在下滑的路程中，他强迫自己睁开眼睛。他看见灯光了，他终于认出那是什么，他知道那是从窗口透出来的灯光，在屋里有棵大树，树上悬挂着红灯、蓝灯和黄灯，一家人正在欢庆爱的喜悦，共创美好的回忆。

雪橇一路下滑，再下滑，速度越来越快。突然间，他很肯定，欢乐已在前方和下头等着他，也在等着小宝宝。头一次，他听见了美妙的音乐，也听见了人们的歌声。

穿越广大的时空，乔纳思仿佛听见他远离的那个地方也响起了美妙的音乐，不过，也许那只是回音罢了！

附录 认识洛伊丝·劳里

洛伊丝·劳里试图在书中让读者和主角一起思索这个问题，而关注青少年所面对的各种不完美的人生、人际关系，正是她成功的地方。

Jonas felt more and more certain that the destination lay ahead of him, very near now in the night that was approaching. None of his senses confirmed it. He saw nothing ahead except the endless ribbon of road unfolding in twisting narrow curves. He heard no sound ahead.

Yet he felt it: felt that Elsewhere was not far away. But he had little hope left that he would be able to reach it. His hope diminished further when the sharp, cold air began to blur and thicken with swirling white.

Gabriel, wrapped in his inadequate blanket, was hunched , shivering, and silent in his little seat. Jonas stopped the bike wearily, lifted the child down, and realized with heartbreak how cold and weak Gabe had become.

Standing in the freezing mound that was thickening around his numb feet, Jonas opened his own tunic , held Gabriel to his bare chest, and tied the torn and dirty blanket around them both. Gabriel moved feebly against him and whimpered briefly into the silence that surrounded them.

Dimly, from a nearly forgotten perception as blurred as the substance itself, Jonas recalled what the whiteness was.

"It’s called snow, Gabe," Jonas whispered. "Snowflakes. They fall down from the sky, and they’re very beautiful."

He got off and let it drop sideways into the snow. For a moment he thought how easy it would be to drop beside it himself, to let himself and Gabriel slide into the softness of snow, the darkness of night, the warm comfort of sleep.

But he had come this far. He must try to go on.

The memories had fallen behind him now, escaping from his protection to return to the people of his community. Were there any left at all? Could he hold on to a last bit of warmth? Did he still have the strength to Give? Could Gabriel still Receive?

But the moment passed and was followed by an urge, a need, a passionate yearning to share the warmth with the one person left for him to love. Aching from the effort, he forced the memory of warmth into the thin, shivering body in his arms.

Gabriel stirred. For a moment they both were bathed in warmth and renewed strength as they stood hugging each other in the blinding snow.

Jonas began to walk up the hill.

The memory was agonizingly brief. He had trudged no more than a few yards through the night when it was gone and they were cold again.

But the memory faded, leaving him colder than before.

If only he had had time to receive more warmth from The Giver before he escaped! Maybe there would be more left for him now. But there was no purpose in if-onlys. His entire concentration now had to be on moving his feet, warming Gabriel and himself, and going forward.

He climbed, stopped, and warmed them both briefly again, with a tiny scrap of memory that seemed certainly to be all he had left.

The top of the hill seemed so far away, and he did not know what lay beyond. But there was nothing left to do but continue. He trudged upward.

As he approached the summit of the hill at last, something began to happen. He was not warmer; if anything, he felt more numb and more cold. He was not less exhausted; on the contrary, his steps were leaden, and he could barely move his freezing, tired legs.

But he began, suddenly, to feel happy. He began to recall happy times. He remembered his parents and his sister. He remembered his friends, Asher and Fiona. He remembered The Giver.

Memories of joy flooded through him suddenly.

He reached the place where the hill crested and he could feel the ground under his snow-covered feet become level. It would not be uphill anymore.

"We’re almost there, Gabriel," he whispered, feeling quite certain without knowing why. "I remember this place, Gabe." And it was true. But it was not a grasping of a thin and burdensome recollection; this was different. This was something that he could keep. It was a memory of his own.

He hugged Gabriel and rubbed him briskly, warming him, to keep him alive. The wind was bitterly cold. The snow swirled , blurring his vision. But somewhere ahead, through the blinding storm, he knew there was warmth and light.

Using his final strength, and a special knowledge that was deep inside him, Jonas found the sled that was waiting for them at the top of the hill. Numbly his hands fumbled for the rope.

He settled himself on the sled and hugged Gabe close. The hill was steep but the snow was powdery and soft, and he knew that this time there would be no ice, no fall, no pain. Inside his freezing body, his heart surged with hope.

They started down.

Downward, downward, faster and faster. Suddenly he was aware with certainty and joy that below, ahead, they were waiting for him; and that they were waiting, too, for the baby. For the first time, he heard something that he knew to be music. He heard people singing.

Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.

The End

第二十三章向往的地方|Chapter 23

附录认识洛伊丝·劳里