It is well after dusk when I start slowly up the dirt path through the Seam to the home I share with my sister, Prim, and our mother. The signs of nature all point to late summer, beginning to give way to autumn as the surrounding trees are showing the early stages of changing colors. It won't be long before winter would make its way to the Seam, making an already difficult existence even more challenging. There is never enough food to go around in the best of times and the winter snows force most of the game into hiding. I make a mental note to start curing some of the meat when Gale and I have a surplus in preparation.
All of the seasonal changes, while unwelcome, are to be expected. What is surprising is that the weather has not dipped into freezing temperatures at night yet. There is a steady stream of smoke rising from the chimney of our house. I have a strict rule on wasting resources on a fire in the summer. We make a cooked meal only twice a week and make do with leftovers and items I gather in the woods for the rest of the week. The house is stifling in the heat and the fire only makes it more unbearable. Besides, chopping wood is one of my least favorite chores and I can't count on my mother or Prim to take over the burden. We are poor, but we have plenty of old blankets to keep away a summer chill without lighting a fire.
Walking up the dilapidated porch, I can feel the sweltering heat that the fireplace was throwing off already. A deep scowl has already formed between my brows. Without preamble, I waltz in the front door. "Prim, we just cooked yesterday. What's going on?"
Curled up on our ratty old couch is the shaking form of my mother, beneath a mountain of blankets and my sweet sister kneeling next to her, dipping a washcloth into a basin and patting it on my mother's brow. Prim looks up at me with a mixture of concern and hopefulness. "I'm sorry about the fireplace, Katniss. I need to break her fever."
My chest tightens and I let my game bag drop noisily to the ground with a heavy thump. "What's wrong?" I ask cautiously.
Prim bites on her bottom lip thoughtfully, returning her gaze back to our mother and begins wiping her pale brow again. "She's got a fever that I'm trying to sweat out. I'd try an ice bath, but we don't have any ice this time of year. Her lungs sound like they're filled with mucus. Hear that rattle in her chest?"
My stomach begins to turn instantly at the thought of mucus. I can skin a rabbit without a second thought to blood but the first sign of human body fluids sends me running to the woods without hesitation. Over the steady crackle and occasional pop of the fire, I can hear the slow, ragged breaths my mother is taking and I know that this is serious.
I let out a hard breath through my nose and my gray eyes meet Prim's brilliant blue ones. I find myself looking to my little sister for reassurance that she can fix this, that she can heal our mother and everything will be fine. I am in deep over my head and don't know how to begin to make this right.
Even when my mother was catatonic following my father's death to a mine explosion, I was able to hold the house together. We almost starved to death but I was eventually able to scrape enough together to keep us fed and the pension from my father's job as a miner kept a roof over our heads. I wasn't able to prevent my mother from staring endlessly at the walls for hours, drowning in her grief, but I was able to coax her into eating enough to keep her alive. We have a strained relationship, but she's still my mother and I do care about her, even when she wasn't doing her best to care for me and Prim.
I see nothing but worry reflecting back at me in Prim's eyes and my stomach drops. That quiet interaction between the two of us is enough to let me know this is beyond her ability to fix. I turn my gaze to my mother, who has feebly opened her eyes and are staring dimly back at me.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I all but screech, unable to keep the desperation from creeping into my tone. My mother has been a healer her whole life. She should have known if she was getting sick. She should have tried to make herself better before it got to this point.
My mother is barely able to lift her head from the bed in protest and I know fighting with her is a lost cause. She should have said something sooner, simple as that. In Prim's able hands, she could have made a full recovery. As mad as I am at my mother for not speaking up about her illness, I am even more terrified at the prospect of having to nurse her back to health. My mother has the talent and patience for healing. The only thing I'm remotely good at is killing things, which hardly seems like a worthwhile skill in this situation.
I close my eyes and take a few cleansing breaths. I know my outburst has scared Prim and none of this is her fault. I slowly count back from ten in my head and snap into action. I stride across the creaking floorboards of our small, government-issued home and kneel down next to Prim. I keep my eyes stubbornly away from my mother's withering form and instead focus on Prim. Trying to keep my voice steady and full of confidence, I ask, "How can I help? Is there anything you need me to go get? Any tea I can make that will help?"
Prim just shakes her head slowly and I can see her steel herself before looking back at me. I've tried so hard to keep her from the evil in this world. I've tried so hard to provide for her and let her be a little kid, like she deserves. It almost kills me, in that moment, when I realize she's trying to be brave for me.
"I've been giving her some mint tea with chamomile to help her relax. I'm hoping the mint will make her breathing a little easier and the warmth and steam will help open her airway. I mixed together a paste to put on her chest a few hours ago, but it doesn't seem to have done much good. I need to get this fever under control," Prim replies with a frown on her face, as if she could will the fever away with pure determination. If anyone could, it would be Prim.
Standing slowly, my eyes immediately begin scanning our small home, as if it holds some answer and I only have to look hard enough to find it. My eyes fall on yesterday's pot of stew. "Well, the fire is already going. I might as well warm it up for dinner," I say with a small smile.
I'm just thankful to find a task that I can manage to help out. Cooking dinner makes me feel more in my element. Herbs, vegetables, greens, and meat are predictable to me. I can never manage to make it taste as quite as good as Hazelle Hawthorne, my best friend Gale's mom, but it's always edible. Healing a patient is not something I can predict or understand. I set about getting dinner ready while Prim diligently sits next to my mother, caring for her needs.
I'm slightly impressed but mostly annoyed with the fire Prim has managed to build. Not only is it sweltering inside the small room but starting the fire is something normally left to my mother or myself. I'd never forgive myself if Prim burnt herself doing a task that I should have been doing. She's thirteen now and been through two reapings. I know, rationally, it shouldn't bother me that she's growing up and taking on more responsibility, but I've always wanted more for her. We both escaped the colorful clutches of Effie Trinket's fingers just a few weeks ago, and at seventeen, I only have one reaping left. I should be thankful, but it only makes me more nervous. Prim still has five to face and I can't bear the thought that I wouldn't be able to volunteer for her if the odds were not in her favor. The best I can do is keep her from taking out tesserae and hope against hope. We're from the Seam, so the odds are rarely in our favor.
I carefully dish out what is remaining of the stew. I give our mother a significantly smaller share. With how ill she is, I doubt she will be able to eat much and I've never been able to stomach wasting food. Bringing it over carefully, I sit down next to Prim, who looks ready to keep constant vigil over our mother all night. I know begging her to abandon her post will do me no good and some small part of me hopes that her diligence will pay off. We eat silently. I can feel the pit of guilt in my stomach beginning to deepen, that I can't offer Prim any comfort or reassurance. I've never been good with words and I'm too angry at my mother to feel compassionate.
It is fairly late before I am able to convince Prim that she needs to go to bed. We both have school tomorrow and we'll need to be up fairly early to tend to our mother before leaving for the day. Exhausted, Prim is able to fall asleep fairly quickly, but I find myself miles away. I am unable to stop my mind from going to the dark place that I immediately went after the mining explosion killed our father. I'm better able to provide for my family this time around but I don't know how tenderhearted Prim will stand losing another parent. My mother has no option but to get better. I have less faith that my mother has the will herself to get better. I'm haunted by the dead stare she gave me from the couch before we went to bed. She's always been so fragile and it looks like she had already given up. I hoped I'd never see that faraway look on her face again, but tonight I can't seem to get it out of my head. And I hate her for it.
Sleeping on top of the sheets in little more than my underwear and a camisole did little to provide relief from the heat trapped in the house. If only I could get it that warm during the bitter winter months. I wake up before the sun, drenched in sweat, to an empty bed. Prim has already gotten up and I can hear her moving about in the living room, where our mother lies.
For a brief moment, I feel utter terror at what I'll find in the living room. I have no skills as a healer and we have no money for a doctor. She simply must be better this morning.
Except she's not.
If anything she's much, much worse. What little color her delicate Merchant skin has managed to pick up this summer is replaced with a sallow pallor. Her eyes are trained on the ceiling and her eyelids are flickering wildly. Her mouth moves soundlessly, speaking without words to things only she can see. Her lips are dry and cracked. I immediately fly to her side when I see Prim kneeling next to her, trying to coax her into swallowing some water unsuccessfully as is evident by the wet pool on the chest of her dress. Taking Prim's shoulders carefully in my hands, I pull her close and place a kiss on the top of her head.
"Prim, why don't you run down and get Hazelle? I'll get mom cleaned up," I say. I try to keep my voice steady and even, but it ends up sounding hallow. Prim quietly wipes the stray tears from her eyes and stands up, shaking her head in agreement. I can almost see the relief on her face that I've taken charge, even if she knows it's false. She nods and leaves toward the Hawthorne house without hesitation.
It isn't in my nature to be comforting to anyone but Prim, but I can't help taking a damp cloth and pressing it to my mother's brow. I can feel the heat of her fever still ravaging her body and I know there is nothing I can do to stop it. The Capitol has pills that can reduce fever but they'd cost more money than I'd be able to make in a month. I would gladly find the money if I could, but there's just no way I can scrape together enough in time to help her. I can only hope that Hazelle has an idea. I know full well Prim has tried everything within her power, but I find myself rising to get our plant book, hoping that I can find something that has been overlooked.
Prim bursts through the door with Hazelle on her heels and, to my surprise, Gale follows closely behind. We lock eyes the moment he steps through the front doorway. He's dressed in his sooty mining clothes and clutching his lunch pail in his hand, obviously on his way to work. The sun is beginning to sneak through the east facing kitchen window, so he only has a few minutes before he'll have to leave to catch the elevator, on its way down to the very heart of our district. I feel relief at his presence. He's always been so much better in the face of an emergency than me. A thousand emotions bubble beneath the surface of his gray eyes so very like my own, but one ultimately wins out. Without saying a word, I know he'll stand by my side and help me however he can. While this is my burden to bear, I know he'll help me carry it. Gale always has my back.
In the few fleeting moments, Gale and I silently communicate. Hazelle has made her way with Prim to my mother's side. The worry etched on her face is unmistakeable and I quickly steel my features. I need to be strong for Prim.
Prim is quietly explaining the ways she's tried to break our mother's fever unsuccessfully. Gale appears silently at my side and I don't protest when he takes my hand. We're two halves of a whole and I need to draw on his strength.
Hazelle turns to me, "Katniss, why don't you and Prim get ready for school and run back to my house and grab the little kids. I left Rory to feed Vick and Posy. I'll stay here with your mother today."
I'm just about to protest when I feel Gale's grip tighten. He's silently begging me to allow her to help. I know they depend on Hazelle's laundry business to stay ahead and a day spent here is a day's wages lost. I'm uncomfortable owing them so much but I know I'd do the same if our roles were reversed.
"Thanks Hazelle, I just..." and the rest dies on my lips. She already knows. I give Gale's hand one last squeeze and hurry off to dress for school. Not for the first time I find myself wishing it were spring and we were done for the year. I'm in my final year of school and, now more than ever, learning about coal production is completely worthless to me.
I come back out to see Gale has started boiling a pot of water for tea over the coals from last night's fire. Tea will have to suffice for this morning and I go to wrap up the last bit of bread and some goat cheese from Lady for Prim's lunch. With his silent tread, he comes over to stand next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Catnip, everything will be okay. We'll figure this all out."
He's looking at me so sincerely that I almost believe him. I need to believe him. I can't manage a smile, but press my lips together unconvincingly.
"I'll stop by to check on you guys when I get home from work," Gale says softly. I can see a brief moment of contempt at the mention of work flit across his chiseled face. I nod once and watch him stride out the door.
Prim kneels down and gives our mother a kiss on her burning forehead, telling her to get better and we'll be back before she knows it. Although I want to scream at my mother, I do reach down and squeeze her hand tightly before herding Prim out the door. I wouldn't be going at all if I wouldn't get in trouble from the Peacekeepers. And, if I'm being honest, I'm terrified to be around my mother so sick.
We pick up Rory, Vick, and Posy with a brief moment's detour to remind Vick he's managed to put his shirt on inside out and head to school. Posy's hand is swinging easily in mine and she's chatting happily about the pictures they're going to be drawing in class today and how high she's able to go on the swings at recess. It's her first year at school and everything is new and exciting still. It's a welcome distraction from the situation with my mother. I can't help but think how much she reminds me of Prim at her age, despite the obvious differences in appearance between the two girls.
The rest of the day does not provide as much of a distraction as Posy Hawthorne. I'm convinced the clock is moving backwards, with how slowly the day is passing, but we're finally released. I round up the little kids quickly and head towards home ahead of them.
I've spent the entire day scheming ways to get enough money for the fever pills from the doctor in town. I've almost convinced myself if I manage to sell everything of value in the house, hunt throughout the night and, with a bit of luck, manage to get a deer, I'll be able to afford them. That hope is quickly shattered when I see Hazelle Hawthorne sitting on the front porch step of our home. Her knees are drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Dread and pity are evident in her eyes and I just simply know.
In one moment, all time and movement of the earth seems to stand still. This can't be happening. No, not like this. This can't be how this ends. I want to scream and rage and cry and blame someone. With what little restraint I have left, the back of my mind tells me I have hold it together for Prim. She hasn't figured it out yet.
"Prim, walk Posy and the boys home."
"Katniss, I wanted to check on mother-" she argues.
"Prim, just do it!" I say in the most forceful voice I can manage, and immediately regret it.
Tears start to fill her eyes but she solemnly nods. I've never been so harsh with her before and she certainly doesn't deserve it now. The four of them walk towards the Hawthorne home without a backwards glance. Good, I think, I don't want an audience.
Hazelle rises to her feet, wraps her arms around my shoulder, and guides me up the front porch to the door. She stops me just short of walking in the house. "Katniss," she begins, her voice thick with emotion, "she, she fell asleep around noon. The rattling in her chest just keep getting worse and I couldn't do anything for her fever. She didn't wake up, honey."
I hear a choking sound and I'm pulled tightly into Hazelle's embrace. I barely recognize that I'm sobbing but she's holding me, rocking me back and forth, and whispering "shhh" gently in my ear. There are too many thoughts swirling around my head and I can't seem to get a grasp on any of them.
I don't know how long we stand on the porch like that, but I'm eventually able to calm down and pull back.
"I need to see her, before Prim..." A fresh round of tears spring to my eyes. My poor Little Duck. She's so tenderhearted and already lost so much. I don't know how I'm going to do this.
Hazelle nods and leads me through the front door. She's lying exactly where I left her this morning. Her eyes are closed, hands folded over the blanket that's been pulled up to her chest. I could almost believe she was sleeping, but her skin has already begun to take on a waxy, unnatural sheen. The most obvious detail I notice is the lack of rise and fall of her chest; how unearthly still the whole room is. I'm unable to form a coherent thought but my mind has already begun to catalog everything about the moment.
I'm shaking like a leaf when I turn back around to Hazelle. "I... I don't know how to tell..."
"I'll tell her, Katniss. We'll get her together and I'll tell her. You just... you hold her, honey," Hazelle says gently. I can't do anything but nod.
I let her guide me to her house, barely noticing my feet moving beneath me. I can feel the panic rising from my gut as we walk up the front steps. Prim is sitting at the table with Posy in her lap, helping her with her homework. Uncharacteristically, both boys are also bent over theirs as well. Prim has always had a way of creating order and encouraging the right action from others. I don't know how I'm going to do this.
"Boys, take you sister out back. I left some laundry on the line that needs folding," Hazelle commands, leaving no room for argument.
"Come on, Pose," Rory says, taking her little hand. He gives Prim one last glance before heading out and I can't help but see Gale in his gray eyes.
I follow Hazelle over to the table and we both kneel down next to Prim. I can see the terror in her eyes and I struggle to keep my composure. I can do this. I have to do this for her.
I tune out Hazelle's words, but the trembling bottom lip and tears in Prim's eyes sends me into action. I hold her close like I used to, when she was small and scared of the occasional storm. I can only pray its enough, even though I know it'll never be enough. We're all each other has. She's become my lifeline, and I will do whatever I have to for her. In a tangled heap of limbs, tears, and grief on the Hawthorne's wooden floor, I hold Prim. If we can just hold onto each other, we might be able to make it.
I barely notice Gale's entrance sometime later, but welcome his arms when he silently drops to the floor beside us, tucking us both in close. I let him hold us together because I'm terribly afraid that I won't be able to.