Do Memories Know The Way Home?

The Giver, Continued

Fiona was dreaming. She was biking along the river with Jonas, a pastime she had repeated many times before during Recreation Hours. But there were differences now that she had never noticed before. Warmth, like a blanket down her back. Flashes of something in the ripples of the river as they curved along the edge of the community.

“Do you think objects have memories, like people?” Jonas was saying.

Fiona blinked twice, trying to banish the strangeness from her vision. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when you put an apple on a table, then take it away, do you think the table remembers the apple was there?”

Fiona shook her head, laughing “That’s ridiculous, Jonas.”

Jonas looked grave. “Do you ever feel like you’re reaching for a memory that used to be there, but isn’t any longer?”

Fiona stared at him, puzzled. She felt like she was looking at him, and he seemed different, somehow. New. Like she had never seen him before. She glanced away, scanning the familiar landscape that was now strange. When she looked back, Jonas was no longer there. With a sudden chill, she remembered the Ceremony of Loss where the community had mourned Jonas.

Fiona woke and sat up. The community was not enjoying its usual pre-dawn peace. There were voices outside. Citizens were outside their dwellings, despite curfew. And despite knowing the rules, Fiona felt the urge to join them. She could feel her heart in her chest, something she had never paid particular attention to before. Just muscular contractions controlled by electrical impulses. But somehow, now, something more.