The next time had been the faces in the audience at the Auditorium, just two days ago.
Now, today, Fiona’s hair. Frowning, Jonas walked toward the Annex. I will ask The Giver, he decided.
The old man looked up, smiling, when Jonas entered the room.
He was already seated beside the bed, and he seemed more energetic today, slightly renewed, and glad to see Jonas.
“Welcome,” he said. “We must get started. You’re one minute late.”
“I apologi—” Jonas began, and then stopped, flustered, remembering there were to be no apologies. He removed his tunic and went to the bed.
“I’m one minute late because something happened,” he explained. “And I’d like to ask you about it, if you don’t mind.” “You may ask me anything.”
Jonas tried to sort it out in his mind so that he could explain it clearly. “I think it’s what you call seeing-beyond,” he said.
The Giver nodded. “Describe it,” he said.
Jonas told him about the experience with the apple. Then the moment on the stage, when he had looked out and seen the same phenomenon in the faces of the crowd.
“Then today, just now, outside, it happened with my friend Fiona. She herself didn’t change, exactly.
But something about her changed for a second. Her hair looked different; but not in its shape, not in its length. I can’t quite—”
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