Chapter 1:
A family affair.
In which there are small hazards,
a pile of children, scrambled eggs
and a cow.
Blaise Calder, District 10.
"Blaise!"
…
"Blaaaiiisseeee!"
I was jolted awake when three little bodies cannon-balled on top of me, but exhaustion made me roll onto my stomach and bury my face in my pillow.
"Blaise. Blaise. Blaise."
"I'm trying to sleep, Merril."
"Gramma wants you to go out and milk Sissi, Blaise!"
I glanced over at the clock on my bedside table, pushing my bangs, which were lopsided from sleep out of my face. "It's five in the morning, for Gawd's sake." I blinked a few times, lashes clearing the sleep away, and felt my heart sink. God. Today was the Reaping. The seventy-second reaping…
My little brother crawled on top of my back and started bouncing, as if I had never protested. "Come on, Blaise!"
My sister, Delphine started poking my arm. "Aw, come on! Just do it real quick and then you can eat with us; Pepper's making breakfast."
My cousin plopped down on my legs, her round face pulled into a smirk. "Oh, and your girlfriend's here."
I gently pushed Merril off my back and pulled myself into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes and acknowledging the bad taste in my mouth. "Wait, you mean Nova? She's not my girlfriend, Palla."
The seven-year old giggled. "Nova an' Blaise, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-" She couldn't finish because I grabbed her around the waist and began tickling her, which was a bad choice. The minute she started her high-pitched giggling, the other little ones, Paisley, Pavi, Parsnip, Peter and Pansy all came surging into the room I shared with two of my older cousins and tackled me, roughly pinching me with tiny fingers and burying me in a pile of little overalls, brown hair and gap teeth. Yes, that was my family; enormous, loud and filled with hazards; you may call them children, but I call them hazards. Affectionately, mind you; I loved them all to pieces. I had been a big brother to them since I moved into my grandparent's farm six years ago, and since their Dad, my uncle Yancey, was a deadbeat that got his house foreclosed several years back and moved in with Grandma and Grandpa, and considering he was a drunk, I was usually the one taking care of them. But life in our section of District 10 was charmed to say the least. Then again, anything was better than living in one of the ghettos; even my uncle had it easy, considering all he really did was work occasional odd jobs and hang out in the guest cottage and drink like a fish. My grandparents lived on a little ranch house in the middle of our dairy farm, and I'm just happy they took me in. I certainly admire them for it; after all, I had been only nine when it happened, my sister, Delphia was only one and poor little Merril was just a newborn. Neither of them remembered Mom and Dad; sometimes, I find myself forgetting them, too. I don't like to… I loved them and I missed them but…
"Alright, alright, I'm getting up. Just lemme put on some real clothes and I'll be out in a second."
Grandma rang the breakfast bell and the children dispersed. I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and stretched, reaching up my arms and feeling my previously dormant muscles unlock and readjust themselves. I then got to my feet and shuffled over to my tattered old dresser, rummaging through it until I found some semi clean clothes that weren't caked in dirt; I'd have to change into some nicer ones later, since it was such a special day today. I pulled my trousers on over my undershorts and slipped into one of Palmer's old shirts which, of course, was too big on me, but I rolled the long sleeves up to my elbows, snapped on some suspenders, pulled on some boots and made my way towards the kitchen.
Considering we were a pretty well off family, our house was a decent size. It was an old-fashioned sort of estate, but despite this it was well kept and in prime shape. The façade of the home was painted a nice shade of cream and the wood-shingled roof was a great place to sit in late afternoon, for it provided the best view of the sunset; I could see it easily, because when I was so high up there were no troublesome oak trees or wheat fields to hinder my sight. The inside of our house had floral wallpaper, old-fashioned white lace curtains, a small, cozy parlor, a kitchen that always smelled like flour and cinnamon, a porch and four bedrooms that the cousins and my two siblings shared, and then Grandma and Grandpa's room down at the end of the hallway.
As I emerged into the kitchen, the crisp smell of cooking eggs and cheese wafted into my nose and warmed me up. Grandma was churning the butter and my cousin Pepper was frying and scrambling the eggs, pouring the cream into the pan and sprinkling parsley. She turned around and smiled at me, her cheeks rosy from the steam. She was only twelve, but she did almost as much around the house as I did, if not more. Pepper Yancey was slender, like me, with a diminutive build, a heart-shaped face, a button nose and big hazel eyes. Her coffee hair, which was several shades darker than mine, was always pulled back in two braids tied with the same blue and white polka-dot ribbons. I couldn't help feeling slightly startled at her cheery disposition; after all, this was her first reaping.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, sticking a spatula into the pan. "Hey, how does this taste?" She took a piece of the omelet onto the spatula and held it out to me. I snatched the rich eggs and ham and tasted it.
"Delicious as always; you never cease to amaze me," I told her, and she grinned.
"Oh, and Nova's waiting for you in the dining room."
I tried to hide my blush. "Oh, okay. Erm, thanks."
Grandma looked up from the butter churn and tucked the strands of grey hair that had come loose from her bun and bandana behind her ear. "Morning, darlin'. Your grandpa's out feeding the goats, so can you go out and milk Sissi for me?"
My little brother scampered into the kitchen and tugged at her apron. "Don't worry, Gamma, I told him, didn't I, Blaise?"
I reached down and ruffled the little boy's hair. "Sure did, buddy."
Grandma chuckled. "Thank you, Merril. Now will you be a dear and start juicing the oranges?"
"Oranges? Where did you get those? They cost a fortune," I told her.
She handed the fruit down to my brother and waved him towards the grader. "Well," she said, "you know our Palmer recently proposed to little miss Elsa Cardale, right? Her papa owns the local grocery in town, so Mr. Cardale gave us a little family discount."
She winked and I laughed. "So if nothing else, we get cheap produce."
Grandma chuckled and I walked into the dining room, and saw my childhood friend sitting on one of the wicker chairs, fiddling with one of the little woven tassels that hung from the checkered tablecloth.
"Hey, Nova; what're you doing here so early?"
She started a bit and looked up, and when she realized it was me, she stood up. "Goodness, you scared me!" She laughed and ran a hand through her light brown hair. "Sorry for bothering you, Blaise. I just wanted to drop by for a chat before the… you know."
I nodded. Yeah, just in case it's the last time we talk before one of us gets carted away to slaughter. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"
"Oh, I couldn't. It smells delicious, but it seems like there's more and more of you every time I come, and I don't want to impose."
Just then, Delphia came out of the kitchen with the plates with my cousin, Peter, following with the silverware, and began setting the table. "Aw, you should stay, Nova," Delphia said. "Merril's almost done with the orange juice; it's going to be so yummy!"
Nova smiled and shook her head. "I'm sure it is, sweetie, but I just came to talk to your brother for a bit."
Grandma stuck her head into the dining room. "Do you want our cow to explode, Blaise? Go out and milk her!"
I sighed and put on my cap. "Wanna come?"
The cracks in the barn roof cast bars of sunlight across my face and back as I pulled up the stool, straightened the milk pale and began working old Sissi's udders. Nova sat off to the side on top of a bale of hey, stroking Harlow, the barn cat. She was wearing a pretty cotton blue dress with a lace collar and white stockings, her light hair pulled back in a bonnet. Us farmer folk dressed awfully simple; none of the fancy Capitol crap, no hoodies, no tennis shoes. The men wore trousers, button-up shirts over our undershirts, sturdy trousers with suspenders or denim overalls, working boots, and we choose between either big straw sunhats or caps. The women usually either wore simple dresses with bonnets, blouses with cotton or plaid skirts or, if they were going casual they'd dress similar to us. I liked it. It made life feel simple, easy, uncomplicated, even good sometimes, since most of the farmer families grew all of their own food and made a pretty nice profit selling our wool, meet, cheese or eggs to the towns people and the Capitol. The Yancey farm was the main importer of eggs, cream and butter. My last name was Calder after my father, but I lived with my Mom's side, and I was glad. I was just a country boy at heart, and always will be. But I could be taken away from all this so quickly…
"So I heard Palmer and the Cardale girl are engaged."
I nodded; glad to have something to thing about beside the games. "Yeah. I guess that big lug's more of a Casanova than I had thought."
"I think it's sweet. Where are they going to live?"
"Palmer's working on building a cottage up the road from here, since we can't possibly fit any more kids here. Eleven is enough, thank you."
She laughed. "Man, your Uncle Yancey really bred like a rabbit; nine- I mean, eight kids. Wow."
"You think? And I'm usually the one taking care of them."
"Don't pretend you don't love it; those little ones adore you."
I leaned back on the stool and gave old Sissi a pat on her rough hide. "I guess you're right. Hey, where's you're brother?"
Nova shrugged. "I never know where Cruz is. I just hope he'll make himself presentable for the Reaping."
"I…" I leaned against the cow's warm side and tried not to show my fear. "I'm scared. I don't want to be called, and I don't want any of my family or friends to be called, either. Any of us could go, Nova. It could be one of the twins, it could be Meta, it could be Emory, it could be us."
"Don't talk like that; we're only fifteen; the chances are awful low."
"That's what they said last year, and then both tributes were twelve and were slaughtered during the first ten minutes of the Games." I felt pain rush through me as I remembered those poor little children, with their great, sad eyes and their terrified little faces. Maybe it was just because I had taken care of my little siblings and cousins for as long as I can remember, but I can't see children in pain. In each of those tribute's faces, I see Merril's or Delphia's or Pepper's or Peter's.
Nova bit her lip. "I know it's awful… I'm scared for all of us."
"And you know what? This is Pepper's first year to be eligible."
"If her name got called, you know I'd volunteer."
I was startled. "You would? No, I don't want to think about it! Ugh… and what about Piper? He's fourteen now. And Palmer; this is his last year for eligibility, but what if it's him? He's going to have a family and a farm of his own soon! Christ…" I didn't want to mention Pol… Palmer's twin brother who went to the games two years ago when he was sixteen. Palmer had tried to step forward, but Pol hadn't let him. He had been such a sweet boy, and he got pretty far, too. He was one of the last five kids, and got his hand cut off in the process. But then he was stabbed to death by the Career who won. His girlfriend, Lila, who he had proposed to the day they met when he was five and had promised to marry, had been distraught, and Grandpa was never the same. Lila still came and visited with us frequently, but she didn't smile as much as she used to, and she would always stare at the empty seat that Pol had always sat in.
She reached forward and set a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Blaise. Nothing's going to happen to any of us."
I met her gaze, her brown eyes boring into my green ones, and I managed a weak smile. "Thanks… I really hope you're right."
