Bobo: a Hunger Games Fan Fiction

by IzorIzent

74 Hunger Games. 75 Victors. 1,725 dead tributes. A story of the 46th Hunger Games. Many thanks to Suzanne Collins who created the framework, the world of Panem.

1. Bobo

1…

It's the Day of the Reaping for the 46th Hunger Games. District 10 is dry and hot. Water is a problem this year. The cattle are thirsty. Water is also a problem in District 6. Too much of it. The residents feel like they'll never be dry. In each of the city centers, in each of the twelve districts, children aged 12 to 18 are corralled into pens for the reaping. No matter the weather, two from each district, one boy and one girl, will be chosen to fight to the death as tributes in this year's Hunger Games.

The annual Hunger Games are Panem's most important televised event. They are broadcast across the nation and, periodically, viewing is mandatory. The vast outdoor arenas are saturated with cameras and coverage runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In addition, there are summaries, recaps, performance analysis, statistical analysis, color commentaries, guest star appearances, and endless re-runs. There are pre-game interviews, mid-game interviews, post-game interviews and, months after games have ended, a nation-wide Victory tour… with interviews. The games are a never-ending topic of conversation, opinion and debate. And they are absolutely good. To question the games is to question the Capitol. To question the Capitol is death.

The Capitol is the ruling city of the Panem nation, a city-state. It is supported by its 12 outlying districts. The games are imposed as a reminder to its districts of the futility of opposing the Capitol's decrees. They started specifically as a punishment for the uprising known as the Dark Days, as a condition of the document called The Treaty of Treason. Only the Capitol itself does not provide tributes. All district children are required to register at their local Justice Building when they turn twelve. They are required to join their district's pool of potential tributes. Each year the games remind the districts of how absolutely subjugated they are, of the cost of dissent. Like the districts need to be told. The Capitol tells their citizens the games are an entertainment, a hearty competition for Glory between the districts. Maybe that plays in the Capitol. It doesn't play in the districts.

From across Panem, the chosen tributes travel to the Capitol in luxury and style. They are fed, pampered and feted. Crowds adore them. Their words are eagerly anticipated. And then they are sent to kill each other, as brutally as can be arranged, in a vast outdoor arena. Only one can remain standing. But wait! The one left standing goes home to a life of fabulous wealth and ease. It's strange how they never seem grateful, how they never seem happy.

But the Capitol finds a way. The Victors of previous Hunger Games become Mentors to the tributes of current Hunger Games. Every year they return to the Capitol, return to the adulation, return to the revived memories of a past that will not be allowed to darken and fade. They return to helplessly watch the slaughter of their young protégés.

Some districts do better than others. Some are more favored by the Capitol. In these districts by dint of their industries, or circumstances, the children grow healthy and strong. They learn skills that aid survival in the arenas. Everybody knows this, though to speak it out loud would be treason. Everything across Panem is fair and equitable. Always. Know that or die. But because these few enter the arena so well prepared, because they so frequently win, those in other districts sometimes think they pursue the games as a career. They call them Career Tributes, or just Careers. These few often form alliances early in the games to weed out the rest. That's a fact. But even for Careers… only one can survive. And it's not always one of them.

District 2 is a Career district. In District 2, last year's Victor, Charis Morrison, is pleased with this year's tributes. As the most recent Victor in this favored district, she will mentor this year's female tribute. Her own victory fresh in her mind, she sees potential before her. Silvius Mason, the 16-year-old boy, is from a family of stonecutters in a remote village. He is unpolished, but tall and well muscled. He is familiar with heavy quarrying tools and knows how to wield them. Endurance and hard labor are second nature to him, and he has seen his fair share of violent injury and death in the quarries. The real star though, and this is what pleases Charis, is Ameline Lyme. She's 17, tall and strong. She's the top of her class in Intermediate Peacekeeper Pre-screening and has applied herself to a frontline career in Panem's military. Her ambition is to achieve Capitol citizenship. She's tough, confident, unafraid and very well trained for combat. She has even served as auxiliary crowd control in the districts. Her only flaw is that she sees the games as a distraction rather than an opportunity.

In other districts, the outlook is not so rosy. District 5 is not a Career district. Felix Manse, a former victor and present mentor from District 5, looks at the two tributes selected for this year's games. No Careers here. His always-queasy stomach sinks even lower and he shakes his head sorrowfully. We're not even going to make the final eight this year, he sighs. His best thought for the day is that there is someone to co-mentor the female tribute, someone to take a share of the blame.

In District 9 it's hot and sultry. A pale yellow fog drowns the city center in the reek of the refineries. Gathered on stage is the official party to the Reaping Day proceedings. The mayor of District 9, and official host, is William Turnwell. Along with him is Clair Beauvais, flamboyantly dressed, garishly made up, chaperone from and appointed by the Capitol. Tim Bothwell and Karen Noots are the District 9 Victors chosen to be this year's mentors. Not that there was much of a choice. A squad of crisply uniformed Peacekeepers lines the back of the stage, standing rigidly at ease. The view from the podium is not encouraging. The square is packed. It's not easy to pack the square in District 9. The refineries can't stop for Reaping Day, or any other day. Everyone over 18 is needed on the job. The children have been herded into their pens. The only adults available are those from off-shift and exhausted. The old and infirm. The dying. It takes the Peacekeepers to turn them out, to fill the square. District 9 officials do their best to put on a show, but the most frequent sounds heard from the crowd are hacking coughs. The most vigorous applause is desultory at best. Bad air, bad water, bad food… hopeless lives. It all takes its toll.

From ground level, the view is even worse. Geoffey Lynx clutches Bobo close. He's never liked Reaping Day with mommy tired and in a bad mood. But it usually gets a bit better later on, after they are home again. Last year was the worstest. Last year he was twelve and had to take a bath and put on special clothes and not stand outside the ropes holding mommy's hand. Last year he was inside the ropes with the other kids. But they didn't pick on him. At least not much. They were mostly watching the grown-ups in the front. It was better later on. Mommy acted funny later on and didn't even yell when Bobo spilled the water. Even though he's just a teddy bear, Bobo should have known better. His short, curly, dark brown fur got all wet, and then Geoffey got all wet, and then the tears were very close, but mommy just gave them both a hug and sent them to bed. Bobo's shiny black button eyes glinted in the dark as Geoffey told him he was a very bad bear. Then Geoffey hugged him close and fell asleep.

This year is even worser. It's hot and the air is stinky. His clothes are tight and itchy. Every time he moves some other kid gives him a shove. He's thirsty and tired. He can't even see mommy in the crowd. The old grown-up at the front is talking and talking. Grown-ups talk so much. Then the grown-up sits down and a funny lady is standing up. She looks funny and she talks funny and she walks over to a great big ball and puts her hand in it and pulls out something. Then she walks back to where she was before and says in a big, loud voice, "Sally Westerman."

It's the same every year. The same grown-ups. The same talk, talk, talk. And then someone says a girl's name. And then all the kids move aside so the girl can go up to where the grown-ups are. And lots of times she crying and doesn't want to go. It can be pretty scary, pretty sad. Sally Westerman doesn't look happy. She looks sick, but she's not crying. She slowly makes her way to the front, climbs the stairs and stands near to the lady.

Now the lady goes over to a different ball and pulls something out. This happens every year too. This time she will say a boy's name. Going back to where she was, she says in a big, loud voice, "Geoffey Lynx." Geoffey hears a loud wail that almost sounds like mommy, but he can't see her. It scares him. His name is Geoffey Lynx too. He's looking all around for the boy who has the same name as him. Then he sees that all the kids have moved away from him. They're all staring at him. He clutches Bobo close. "I didn't do anything," he says. A man dressed all in white comes through the crowd towards him. The man is called a Peacekeeper and mommy has told him he must do what a Peacekeeper says. This Peacekeeper says, "Are you Geoffey Lynx?" Geoffey nods. "Then get up on stage." What does that mean? Geoffey doesn't move. The Peacekeeper takes him by the arm and starts pulling him. Now Geoffey is scared. Where are they going? The Peacekeeper is holding too tight. It hurts. He starts to whimper. Bobo is scared too and Geoffey holds tightly onto him. Where's mommy? Now they are at the front and climbing the stairs and he is standing beside the Sally Westerman girl.

"Let's have a big hand for the tributes of District 9!" trills Clair Beauvais. The crowd is mostly silent. Appalled. There is a small scattering of applause. A few laughs. A few jeers. Geoffey has heard such sounds before. It doesn't last. Somewhere he can hear a woman sobbing. It couldn't be mommy. What would make mommy cry?

Geoffey looks over at Sally. She looks as sick as ever, but more… Her mouth is open and she looks horrified. And she's staring at him. "I didn't do anything," he says meekly. It seems that everyone in the whole world is staring at him. He's so scared and unhappy, but he looks at Sally looking at him and braves a tiny, tentative smile. No response. She turns away, lost in her own pain. He stops and turns his gaze morosely to the floor in front of him. "What did I do?" do he asks wonderingly.

The Peacekeeper looks down at him. The boy is short but not unusually so, and thin. He is dressed in clean but faded clothes, clothes that seem a bit too small. He has an oval face under tussled light brown hair. The face seems fairly flat with a small nose and weak chin. His eyes are brown like his hair, and wide set. The Peackeeper has served at reapings many times. He expects the children called to the stage to be terrified and to look ill. That is normal here in 9. This child, however, looks more… confused. The Peacekeeper is baffled, but it's not his business. His job is to see that the chosen ones get to the stage and stay there. He says to the boy, very quietly, "Just stay where you are and shut up."

Geoffey stays where he is and doesn't say anything more. He can be a good boy, but it's all so strange. He holds onto Bobo for all he's worth. Tears are leaking from his eyes and he really, really wants mommy. And now he needs to pee.

Now the old man is standing up again, talking, talking, talking. Finally he stops and music plays really, really loud. Geoffey knows this means that's it's over and he and mommy can go home. But she's not here. And she's still not here. And the Peacekeeper is pushing him, pushing him into the big building behind. Geoffey has only been here once before… last year when mommy brought him here on his birthday. She had to do some stuff he didn't understand and took him with her. That was when he learned about Peacekeepers.

The Peacekeeper has shoved him into a big room and closed the door. There's not much here. The floor is soft and cushy and there are some big cushy chairs and a small table. Geoffey does not know what to do. He goes and sits on the floor beside a chair. It's very, very quiet. He's very, very scared and worried. This isn't what's always happened before. It doesn't feel right. It certainly doesn't feel good. He sits for the longest time and nothing happens. Then the door opens and she's there.

"Mommy!" he shrieks, and throws himself at her.

"Oh, Geoffey!" she wails as they cling desperately to each other, the tears flowing freely, sobs filling the room. Bobo lies, forgotten, on the floor. At last this strange, scary day is over and he can go home! But no. Mommy holds him in front of her. Holds him hard by the arms. Her face is wet with tears and she looks so hopelessly sad and scared.

"Geoffey Lynx," she says, giving him a small shake. "Geoffey Lynx, you listen to me! You listen to your mother!" He knows it's important. She said his whole name, twice. "You are going to go on a long, long trip and mommy can't come with you."

"Why not?" he asks. This is not good at all. This is scary. All Geoffey wants to do is go home.

"It's not allowed," she sobs, "Oh Geoffey, please, please listen to me. You are going to go on a train that will take you far, far away. You know about trains?" He nods. He's seen pictures in books, and once he saw a real train, so big and moving so fast. It was exciting! It doesn't seem exciting now. Now it only sounds scary. And lonely.

"I can't be there. Mommy's not going. It's not allowed. But there will be lots of other grown-ups. You must listen to them and do what they tell you. You must try so hard to be good, and brave. Even if it's frightening. Especially if it's frightening. Because I can't be there."

"I'm scared now," says Geoffey.

"I know," says mommy "I know. I am too. But it can be alright, you can be alright, if you listen to the grown-ups who are with you. You must do what the grown-ups tell you. If you don't know what's happening, or what to do, you must ask for help. You must be brave and say to the grown-ups, 'Can you help me?' Can you do that for me? Can you do that for mommy?"

"I don't want to go," pleads Geoffey. He doesn't know why mommy is sending him away. Why she won't come with him. Why they can't just go home.

"You must!" says mommy. "It can't be helped. And I can't be there. It's not allowed. But you've got Bobo," she says, grasping for any straw. "If you take care of Bobo, he'll watch over you and together it will be more like home. Okay? And Geoffey," she says, "know that I love you. Mommy loves you and always will. Always and forever. And if there's any way I can see you, I will! I promise with all my might, with all my heart. I will miss you so, so much while you are away. Promise you'll be good."

He nods. He doesn't know what to say. And then the door opens and the Peacekeeper is there saying, "Time's up."

With a whimper, Geoffey's mother hugs him tight, and he hugs her tight and says, "I love you mommy." And then the guard pulls them apart. And she's out of the room. And he's alone again. He doesn't know what to say, what to think, what to do. He picks up Bobo and hugs him close and goes back to sit by the chair. Be brave, mommy said. The room is so very quiet.

After some time, the door opens again and the Peacekeeper says, "It's time to go." What does that mean? Geoffey doesn't know what to do. "Come along," snaps the Peacekeeper, and so Geoffey does. They leave the building and he's pushed into a car with Sally and some grown-ups he doesn't know. He's seen cars, but he's never been in one. Mommy said he would be going in a train. But it turns out that the car ride is only short and then there's the train. Someone pushes him up onto a step at the back of it, and he stands there holding fast to a metal railing. Sally is beside him and there are lots and lots of people and flashing lights and noise. And then the train starts to move and the people get further and further away. A door opens behind them and Sally disappears inside. So he goes inside too.

2…

Just inside the door of the train car stands a grown-up who gestures to Geoffey and says, "This way," and walks down a hallway. Geoffey follows him. Everything is shaking gently. At the end of the hall hey reach a door, which the attendant opens. They are outside again in a small bouncy space. Geoffey is amazed to see the ground whipping away beneath the car, trees flying by to either side. So fast. So very fast. The grown-up crosses the gap. Geoffey is scared. What if he falls? But he can see the grown-up is looking strangely at him and becoming impatient. "This way," the grown-up repeats. Geoffey does his best to do like the grown-up, and then he's across as well. Another door is opened and they are back inside again. They walk down to the end of another hallway. "You do it this time," says the grown-up. "Do what?" asks Geoffey. "Open the door and cross into the next car," says the grown-up, giving him a peculiar look. They're not like the doors Geoffey is used to, but the grown-up shows him what to do and he does it. There's another scary gap to cross, but in the next hallway they reach an ordinary door where the grown-up says, "This is your room." He opens the door and shows Geoffey inside. It's a big room with a bed and a bureau, a closet and, yes, a bathroom. "Dinner will be served in the dining car," says the grown-up, and leaves. Geoffey uses the bathroom and then goes and sits on the bed. It's funny the way the room is always slightly shaking, but it doesn't feel bad. What happens next? Nobody comes. He sits there for a while, and then lies down. With Bobo beside him, he falls asleep.

A knock on the door wakes him. It opens and there's the lady in the silly dress. "Dinnertime," she says brightly in her funny voice.

"Who are you?" Geoffey asks.

"I'm Clair, your Capitol chaperone."

"I'm hungry."

"Then follow me." She turns and disappears into the hallway. Geoffey gets up and, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand and holding Bobo in the other, he goes out into the hall just in time to see the lady disappear through a door at the end. As he moves from one car into the next, he thinks it's a good thing that grown-up showed him what to do. It takes some fumbling, but eventually he manages it. And now he is in a big room with a bunch of other people and the smell of food.

Everybody is standing at the end of a large table with lots of chairs. Most of them are holding glasses of red stuff. A long counter along one wall is filled with more food than Geoffey has ever seen in his life. It smells good, but most of it he doesn't even recognize. People dressed in white stand stiffly at attention at either end of the counter. They don't look like Peacekeepers. Sally is looking at them too.

"Who are these people anyway?" asks Sally. "They just stand there… like zombies."

"They're called Avoxes," replies Clair offhandedly, "They've been made mute for crimes against the state. It's the only sure way to shut them up. They've been sentenced to lives of hard labor and servitude. Treat them like pieces of furniture."

"Oh," says Sally, "Well that's alright then." Her voice drips sarcasm.

"Introductions all around," pipes Clair. "We already probably know each other, but just to be sure: I'm Clair, your Capitol chaperone. This is Tim, and this is Karen. They are your District 9 Victors and will be your Mentors. And you two, of course, are our stars: Sally and Geoffey, the District 9 tributes. Everybody on this train, all of us here, all the attendants, all the crew, all the Avoxes are at the service of you two." Geoffey grins bashfully. He likes being a star.

"Perhaps we should all just sit down and eat," says Karen.

Everyone takes a chair. There's an empty seat beside Geoffey for Bobo.

The Avoxes begin to serve. Geoffey doesn't know what to do. He just sits and stares at his plate. Significant glances pass around the table. Eventually, Karen takes over. "Give the boy some of this and some of that," she says, pointing at various dishes. "And cut his meat for him."

"No," says Geoffey. "I can do it. Mommy teached me once." It's not easy but he manages to get some into himself. The thing is that it's exceptionally unusual to get meat at home, sliced or not. Meat… it just never happens. It's just one of the things with which he's not familiar. But he's had carrots and corn and he likes them. Not the green stuff so much. And there's lots of bread… the good white stuff he's had once or twice on his birthday. Very tasty. And milk. He hardly ever has milk and this stuff is real good.

As the meal draws to a close, Tim says, "Give him a bowl of fruit salad." The Avox does, and Geoffey looks at it. It's all full of colorful bits and pieces of stuff he's never seen before… green round things and red ones too, chunks in yellow and white and orange. He tentatively has a taste. He likes it best of all.

Eventually the table is bare and the lot of them sit, nursing glasses of drink… wine, coffee, water. Nothing is being said, but most of the attention is on Geoffey. Karen gets up and goes out to the hall. She manages to flag down an attendant. "Do you think you could find some paper and colored pencils or something?"

"I'll see what I can do," replies the attendant. Karen returns to the dining car and a few minutes later, the attendant returns with a pad of paper and some colored pens.

"Here," says Karen, handing them to Geoffey. "Why don't you go and draw some pictures."

Geoffey goes to the end of the car, lies on the floor and starts to draw a picture of mommy. Bobo sits by his head. The rest remain at the table.

Tim is resting his head in his hands. "What am I going to do with… him?"

Clair and Karen lower their eyes. There really is no answer. Sally looks unhappy and hostile. After a moment Clair says, "If anyone asks you about him, you should say that he's… just bashful… or something. Best to avoid the whole thing, if you can." Sally rolls her eyes.

"We're all going to have to take care of him," says Tim. "And I mean every one of us. Even you, Sally."

"No!" she angrily objects, "I will not be allied to that loser!"

"I'm not asking you to be allied to him. More like a disinterested babysitter. Much of the time he'll have team people around him… us, his stylist and prep team, whoever… and it won't be an issue. But there will be times when it will be only you. All I ask is that you see that he gets to and from wherever you're going. Point him to the bathroom. Put some food on his plate at lunch and give him a glass of water. You can do that can't you? Or do you imagine you'll be too busy hanging with your friends?"

Can this day get any worse? "What about the arena," she mumbles. This is beyond horrible. Isn't the arena, which is almost certain death, enough… but him too?

"When he gets to the arena, people will be placing bets on him," says Tim. "Big bets, but not on win or lose. They'll be betting on how many minutes after the gong before he's dead." He pauses. "You can kill him yourself." Sally blanches. A shudder passes through her. She is close to tears. How can she kill anyone, never mind him? "Exactly. Once you're in the arena, just do what you have to and make him not your problem."

He has been very hard on her, said cruel things, and Karen is glaring at him angrily. He sighs inwardly and gets up to go stand behind Sally. He places his hands on her shoulders. "It is possible…" he says quietly, giving her shoulders a light squeeze, "It is possible to win." She sits limp and still, making no acknowledgement.

He returns to his chair and sits. The whole group sits in silence a while longer.

Clair walks over to stand above Geoffey. "Come," she says, "It's time to watch TV." He shows her his picture of mommy and another one of Bobo and him. "Very pretty," she says, and leads him into the lounge. It's time to view the recap of the reapings.

The evening recap of the nation-wide reapings is the first opportunity tributes get for a look at their competition. Well staffed with reporters and cameras, each district is put on display… the city center, the crowds, the officials, the tributes. Some are lavish. District 2 always shows bright, well-maintained buildings, cheering throngs, enthusiastic tributes. In District 2 there's frequently competition to determine who'll be chosen. Some of the other districts are almost decrepit. District 12 always looks like an unhappy family gathering in a barnyard. District 9 only looks grimy.

"It's not fair," says Sally as the cameras glory in the health, vigor and aggressiveness of the District 2 tributes. "They're freaking monsters. What are you going to do to help me get past them?"

"Truth is…" says Tim, "Truth is the biggest help you'll get from us is knowing that we did win. So it's possible. When you're in the arena, you just hang on to whatever you can. Food and water will be even bigger problems than the other tributes. Tributes you can avoid. At least for a while."

"Oh, goody," says Sally.

"I prayed for the cannon," says Karen. "Every blast marked another tribute dead. One less to worry about, one step closer to home. But I was so hungry. All the time hungry."

"Yes," Tim agrees. He is lost in his memories, memories from a million years ago and a million miles away, memories of his days in the arena. "And then the hovercraft comes in to take the body away."

"I hate those things," says Karen with a shiver "one second they're not there, and the next they're right over your head."

"It's a hovercraft that shows the pictures of the dead at night," says Tim.

"It's real boost when a Career bites it," adds Karen.

Geoffey has no particular interest in the TV, but he stares silently as they show District 9. He misses mommy so bad.

As the recap comes to a close, the national anthem sounds. "Time for bed," says Clair, looking pointedly at Geoffey.

"I forget," he blushes.

"I'll show you the way."

As they disappear down the hall, followed closely by Sally, Tim says to Karen, "It's a certain death sentence."

Karen looks back at him. "Twenty-four tributes are going into that arena and it's a certain death sentence for twenty-three of them."

"Not absolutely certain. One of them will survive… but it won't be him."

Now it's Karen's turn to looks despondent. "I so much hate sending kids home in boxes," she murmurs.

Sally can be heard in her room, crying.

"And that's another thing," states Karen, aggressively turning on Tim. "It's not up to Sally to look after Geoffey. She's a tribute here too. She's going into the arena just like he is. She has enough on her plate without being told to take care of Geoffey!" Now she's really angry. Tim knows she's right. In the morning he will apologize, but the damage has been done. He can only hope it has not gone too deep.

3…

"We're here!" Clair calls as she raps on Geoffey's door in the morning.

He wakes up to the strange room. This isn't his room. This isn't his bed. These aren't his pajamas. And then he remembers. Mommy isn't here. He picks up Bobo, his only friend in the whole world, and holds him tight. "I miss mommy," he whispers in Bobo's ear. He looks around but doesn't see his clothes. He steps out into the corridor just as the funny lady (what did she say to call her?) is walking by.

"Time to get dressed," the funny lady says as she flies past. "Lots of new people to meet. Lots of new adventures ahead."

Geoffey doesn't want to meet new people. New people are scary. He doesn't want adventures. Adventures are scary. He wants mommy. But she's not here. "I only have jammies," he says.

The funny lady stops short and gives him an odd look. She takes a big breath and lets it out all at once. She comes and scoots him back into his room. "Remember last night when you said you didn't have pajamas and I showed you where they are?" He nods. It's true. She did. And he put some on and went to bed.

"But they're not my pajamas."

"Yes they are. All the clothes in this room are yours. And look here…" She opens the closet doors. "All these are yours too." He looks at the clothes hanging there. Shirts and pants and who knows what else. None of them look like his. "You just choose your favorite colors and put them on, and then come along to breakfast. Do you remember where we eat? It's down that way," she points. He nods. "Hurry along then," she says, leaving the room.

Geoffey is unhappy. All this is so hard. He finds a shirt and pair of pants and puts them on. They feel okay. Slippers look easiest, so he puts them on, grabs Bobo, and goes back into the corridor. He turns the way he thinks she said to go, fumbles his way through the doors, and is relieved when he ends up in the food room. Everybody else is already there.

"Sit down," says the man. So Geoffey sits in the same seat he had yesterday and sets Bobo beside him. He doesn't remember the man's name, or the name of the lady who puts a plate of yellow stuff in front of him, toasted bread he knows, and a glass of orange stuff. He tastes the yellow stuff and it's good, and he tastes the orange drink and it's good too. He wishes he could show mommy.

"Today is a very special day," the man says to Geoffey. "We're in a very special place called the Capitol." Geoffey stares at him. "And today a whole bunch of people are going to help you play make believe. First thing after breakfast, we take a car ride… remember the car ride from yesterday?" He remembers and nods. "Good. We take a car ride to a really big building where people will clean you up and put you in a fancy costume. And then you and Sally will take a ride with horses. Do you know horses?"

He's seen them in pictures, but never a real one. He nods. The man starts to speak again, but Geoffey interrupts him, "I have a book with pictures, but I've never seen a real one."

The man gives a small huff. "Well… you'll see real ones today. And Sally will be wearing a costume too, and you and she will stand on a fancy chariot…"

"What's a chariot?" asks Geoffey.

"It's a thing with wheels that the horses pull. And you and Sally will stand on this chariot and the horses will pull you down a long, long street so lots and lots of people can see your costume and cheer." The man sits back, looks at the ceiling, and takes a deep breath. Then he looks back at Geoffey. "It will be fun," he says. "You'll see."

"Will I have to take a bath?" asks Geoffey.

"Well… yes. Maybe more than one. But that's what the people you'll meet are there to help with."

It doesn't sound like much fun to Geoffey. He sits there, missing mommy.

"And when the ride is over," says the man "you and I and Karen and Clair and Sally will all be in a new place where we can stay for several days."

At least he said most of the names that Geoffey knows he must try to remember.

"I don't remember your name," says Geoffey.

"My name is Tim. Maybe we can make a game of it until you learn."

Maybe, thinks Geoffey. He looks across at Sally, who does something funny with her eyes and turns away.

Oh, such a sight Geoffey sees as they leave the train! He almost drops Bobo! There are buildings. Great huge buildings in more colors than he's ever seen even in a rainbow. And they reach right up to the sky. And cars! So many cars whizzing back and forth and all different colors. And people! So many people and they all look as funny as the funny lady… what's her name? But he only sees these things for a moment, and then they are in a car and the doors are closed and the windows are dark and he can feel they are moving. No one speaks during the short ride, but Geoffey remembers the name of the funny lady is Clair. Good.

When the car stops and they all get out, Geoffey finds he is in the biggest room he has ever seen. His mouth hangs open as he looks around. He holds Bobo tight. "This place is called the Remake Center," says Clair. "This is where you will meet your stylists and prep teams. You may not like what they do, but it's very important in terms of presentation and crowd appeal. It may have a real bearing on sponsorships. So 'co-operation' is the order of the day." She heads off towards the elevator. "Those are the chariots you'll be riding in tonight," she says, pointing off to the left. Geoffey looks over and sees some big barrel-like things, open on one end and with a very large wheel on either side. He thinks riding in one will not be easy. "And on the other side are the stables for the horses." Geoffey looks over, but is disappointed to see only dark shadows. "When we come back down here this evening, the horses will be in harness and arranged for the procession. The District 1 chariot will be closest to the doors." She points to two massively huge doors that seem to take up all of one wall, "You will be in the ninth chariot, the fourth one from the far end." They continue across the room to a very large elevator on the far side. When they are all in the elevator, Clair presses the number 9. The doors close and up they rise. When the elevator stops, the doors open on a wide, white corridor with doors on either side. A strange group of people awaits them. "These are your stylists and prep teams. Introductions, please..."

There follows a flurry of names and piping voices that sound to Geoffey like wind chimes in a breeze. Their neighbors back home have wind chimes. In a good breeze, they make it hard to sleep. Back home.

A lady who does a lot of the talking is named Sylvia, and then a strange looking man talks and his name is Mars-something. All the other names are gone too fast. Sally goes off down the hall with the lady and 3 other people. Tim (he remembers the name) is talking quietly to the new man while 3 other strangers stand by listening. After a bit of talk, the strange man looks over at Geoffey and says, "Oh my." They talk a bit more and then everybody is looking at him. "Well..." says the man, "The schedule and costume for tonight's procession is set, as is the training outfit. I don't see a problem with those, but we'll have to re-think the interview outfit."

The man speaks directly to Geoffey. "Geoffey… my name is Marcelius and I am your stylist. That means that the clothes you wear while you are here will come from me, and tonight it's a very special outfit. But it's not just clothes. These other 3 people are my assistants. They are called your prep team. They will clean and polish you so you shine like… um… a button. If you come along with us, we'll get started."

Geoffey holds Bobo a little closer and looks over at Tim. "Go with him," says Tim, "and do what they want you to do. Try to be good. I will see you later this evening."

It's a very hard day, and not without tears. First they try to take Bobo from him, but Geoffey will not let him go. He hollers and fights until they realize it's best to just let Bobo stay. When they give him a bath he sets Bobo to the side, but not out of sight… never out of sight. Geoffey puts up with baths because mommy says he has to, but he has never liked them. And this one is especially bad, with gunk that smells, and gunk that they put in his hair that stings his eyes. He squirms and fights. Sometimes they yell, and then he is scared and wants Bobo. After, they cut his hair and comb it, and do stuff to his fingers and toes. And then there's lunch, which is good because he gets to sit with Bobo, and the food is good. But these strange people snap at him if he uses his fingers.

Afternoon is all about clothes. First they measure him every which way. He doesn't know why. And then they bring all different colors of cloth and hold them against him. Some he likes and some he doesn't… and says so. He doesn't know why he has to put on so many things and take them off again, and he doesn't like it. By the end of the afternoon, everyone is worn out. And then they tell him he needs another bath, and it's another fight. But afterwards, the 3 strangers step back and sigh with relief, and Geoffey stands there cleaned and combed and ready for…

The strange man comes into the room and looks him over very carefully but doesn't say anything. He tells one of the others to 'go get the costume', and a minute later a big box is pulled into the room. The man looks at Geoffey. "Do you remember me?"

Geoffey shakes his head. "I forget." He remembers the man, but not his name. How could he forget the man, he looks so strange. It looks like his face is made of toy blocks, but his chin is curved, very long and pointy.

"My name is Marcelius, and I'm your stylist." It's a hard name to remember. "Tonight you will be in a big parade. You and your co-tribute will ride in a chariot procession to the city circle where the President will greet you. All the other tributes will be in the procession as well. There will be one chariot for each district. For this procession, the tributes are dressed in costumes that indicate the primary industry of their district, and have make-up to match. District 9 refines chemicals, mostly oil, so I have decided that your costume will take the form of an oilcan." Geoffey remembers being told some of this before. "First you put on the costume, then we'll do the make-up."

"Geoffey." The man looks at him very closely and sternly. "This needs to be done, so please co-operate. The more you help us, the faster it will be over. Let's start by getting your teddy bear out of the way."

Immediately Geoffey stiffens and hugs Bobo close. "You can't have Bobo."

Marcelius hesitates. "We'll just put…Bobo… over here on a shelf where he can see you and you can see him all the time. We don't want Bobo to get messy, do we?" Geoffey doesn't like the idea, but lets it happen.

Pieces with strange shapes are pulled from the box, and they start dressing Geoffey. First there are golden leggings that go all the way up. Then shell-like pieces cover his front and back. The back has a handle-like thing sticking out from it, and the front has a long tube-shaped spout. There are openings for his arms, and he wears golden gloves that go right to his shoulder. Then they start putting make-up on his face and neck. He doesn't like this a bit and squirms a lot, but the job gets done eventually. His hair is slicked down with a gel. Finally, a cap shaped like a funnel is added and tied under his chin.

"It's done," says Marcelius. "Geoffey? Would you like to see how you look?" Everything about this feels strange. He allows himself to be lead over to a large mirror. He looks, and looks again, and to everyone's surprise, he starts to laugh.

"I look silly!" he laughs. And he does. Then Geoffey remembers. "Where's Bobo?" They bring him Bobo and Geoffey holds him up, face first to the mirror. "Look, Bobo!" And then he and Bobo are both laughing together. He looks like a big tin can with arms and legs. He turns, laughing, to Marcelius, who looks slightly offended. But then Marcelius remembers who Geoffey is and relaxes. The prep team can't heap enough words of praise onto Marcelius for his brilliant work.

"It's time," says Marcelius. "Come along Geoffey." The whole bunch of them troops to the elevator and descends to the stable level.

4…

When they leave the elevator, Geoffey is amazed at the changes. There are all the chariots arranged in a long, curving line. Attached to the front of each with long poles are two horses. Seeing them in person is nothing like seeing a picture in a book. They are huge. The party crosses over to the chariots and starts walking down the line. Geoffey's mouth is agape. He holds Bobo by the hand, almost forgotten in the presence of this wonder. They are way bigger than he is, all shiny smooth. As he walks down the line some of the horses shift their feet, bob their heads, make snorting noises. Their great big eyes seem to follow him. He is in awe.

"And here we are," says Marcelius. There stand Tim and Karen, Clair and the strange new lady, Sylvia he remembers and… Sally. Sally is enough to distract Geoffey from the horses. She's wearing a costume much like his but her strangely hairless arms and legs wear only a coat of the golden make-up. Her 'tin can' is cut way low in front and she wears nothing but make-up under it. She seems to have lost her eyebrows. Geoffey stares in utter astonishment… and then starts to laugh. She looks even sillier than he does! She shoots him such a glare that he takes a step back, struck silent, but he can't help it and he's laughing again. Other tributes, other mentors, other stylists have taken notice and are looking their way, some with vague curiosity, some with contempt.

"Now Geoffey," says Clair crossly, "That's enough." She turns to Marcelius and Sylvia and congratulates them on their spectacular work. "They'll be the stars of the whole procession." Karen and Tim are quick to heartily agree. Sally merely looks sullen.

The adults are standing together in quiet conversation and Geoffey turns his attention back to the horses. The horses at different chariots have different colors. Theirs are light brown and stand very quietly. Tim and Marcelius walk to stand by the animals' heads. Tim has a handful of white cubes that he holds out, one by one, for the horses to take. He sees Geoffey watching. "These are sugar cubes," he says "Would you like one?" Geoffey steps forward, takes one and pops it in his mouth. It's good. It's sweet. Tim audibly sighs. "I meant to feed the horse. They're for the horses." Geoffey feels embarrassed, like maybe he's done something bad. "It's alright," says Tim, "they're good, aren't they?" Geoffey nods.

Music can be heard through the great doors. "Time to saddle-up," chortles Clair. Sally climbs into the chariot and Geoffey is urged to follow. "Face forward, Stand straight. Big smiles. Don't worry, the horses know what to do." The big doors are sliding open, letting in the light of early evening. The music is getting louder and louder, and the noises of a large crowd can be heard. The first chariots start to move and the crowd outside erupts into cheers. The other chariots follow one by one until, suddenly, theirs is in motion. Geoffey is startled. So afraid of falling down, he drops Bobo and welds his fingers to the front rim of the chariot. "Stand up and let go," says Sally. He hardly even hears her and he has absolutely no intention of letting go. The road is smooth and the horses move at a gentle trot as the chariot emerges into the light. The music is thundering, loud voices fill the air; massive crowds of people line the way, cheering and cheering. And the city! The city looms all around them, huge, brightly colored buildings leaping up and up. Geoffey's eyes are like saucers; his mouth hangs open as he stares stiffly from side to side. Sally is standing beside him, smiling, waving. Geoffey is terrified and excited and he doesn't know what. But he's sure not going to let go.

The horses, unperturbed, draw the chariots down the long avenue to the city circle where they wind around to form an arc with each chariot and its tributes coming to a stop, facing a huge and elaborate building… the Presidential Mansion. Geoffey is so relieved to be still. He glances down and thankfully sees Bobo lying at his feet. He doesn't know what's going on, but he's still not about to let go. His head turns this way and that, goggling at the marvels that surround him. He feels so very small. The other tributes are intent on the building. The music dies down. The cheering crowd gradually settles to become quietly restless. Some men emerge on a balcony high up on the building. The crowd erupts in applause.

President Valentine Prius approaches the podium. He's a small man, and even carefully tailored clothes seem to hang off his frame. He is stooped, and his face is ashen. It is easy to believe the rumors of his sharp decline. At his right side is his nephew, the young and handsome Coriolanus Snow. By all counts an ambitious man, rumor has it that Snow is being groomed as successor to the Presidency. Certainly among the Twenty-three, the ruling families of Panem, there seems no viable alternative… not since the tragic ending of Marcus Heavensbee.

As the crowd quiets down, President Prius welcomes the tributes to the 46th Hunger Games, and thanks them for their willing participation. Scanning along their number, he is pleased at the acquiescence of the districts. The games still serve their purpose. He is momentarily disconcerted by a boy clearly not paying attention… the one hanging onto the chariot and looking everywhere except at him. He feels a vague discomfort but continues his remarks, concluding with the exuberant motto of the games, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The crowd erupts in applause, and the music blasts forth in the national anthem.

As the President turns to leave the balcony, he says quietly to his nephew, "Did you see that boy? The one not listening?" Snow nods. "Have a word with the district mayor." Then the two are gone, swallowed by the vastness of the mansion.

Now the music changes to a marching beat and the crowd is cheering as the chariots loop around the circle. The horses continue in their well-trained course until they disappear into the darkness of another massive building.

5…

The stylists and mentors are there to greet them as the chariots come to a halt. "Excellent run," says Tim, "and welcome to the Training Center"

"You were dazzling," says Clair.

Sally climbs down from the chariot and as Geoffey sees this, he shakily lets go and stoops to snatch up Bobo. He hopes this ride is over. He has seen enough of horses, and people, for today. There's bustle all about them as the other tributes and their support teams begin to move towards the elevators. "This way," says Clair, and Geoffey is happy to follow along. They board an elevator with the team from District 5 and Felix, the 5 mentor, takes the lead. "Each district occupies a whole floor," he says, "and your floor number is district number. When you're on the elevator, only push the button for your floor. You are not welcome on the other floors, and there can be consequences." He pushes the button for 5. "Push the button for 9, Geoffey," says Karen. He knows numbers, but not well. No one ever asks him to use them. He reaches for 6. "No, no," says Karen, "the other one higher up." He looks higher, recognizes the 9 and pushes it. "Very good." As it rises, everyone on the elevator is looking at Geoffey.

They arrive on the ninth floor and enter their quarters. Sally and Geoffey are shown their rooms and told to clean up for supper. Geoffey finds the bathroom, but little looks familiar. He finds a towel, wipes off his face and goes to sit on the bed. Such an incredible day! So many images swirl through his head! He feels so tired. A while later Clair knocks on his door and looks in to announce supper. She sees Geoffey sitting on the bedside, still in his costume.

"This won't do," she sighs, and disappears. A moment later she's back with an Avox in tow. "Clean him up," she says.

Under her direction, the Avox removes the costume and leads Geoffey to the bathroom to properly clean his face and hair. Geoffey's not happy about it, but it's the sort of thing grown-ups do. Clair selects clothes from closet and bureau. See shows Geoffey where to find various things. Geoffey dresses and together they go to supper. Tim, Karen and Sally, chastely dressed, are there along with the two new people.

"Lets play a name game," says Tim, "Geoffey has to guess everybody's name." Geoffey tries. He gets Sally, and Tim, and Clair, but needs help with the others. When the names have been sorted everyone applauds, except for Sally who just looks resentful. Dinner is served.

Afterwards, the team moves to the lounge to watch the recap of the procession. Sally hasn't much interest, seems somewhat embarrassed, but Geoffey is fascinated by all the things he can hardly believe he has seen. As the anthem comes to a close, everyone congratulates the two again on such a successful Capitol debut.

"Tomorrow you start training," says Tim. "You are expected in the gymnasium by 10:00, but we want you up much earlier. Breakfast done by 8:00. Karen and I will be advising each of you on how best to put in your time. You will be coached separately. Sally, you are with Karen. Geoffey will be with me. Now you guys need your sleep and we need to talk, so off to bed."

Sally is not happy, does not like being dismissed, but she goes. Geoffey hesitates.

"Your room is just down the hall on the right," says Karen, indicating which direction and which side. Geoffey goes, but he's practically dragging Bobo behind him.

The adults sit around the table in silence.

"What are you going to tell Sally?" Tim asks.

"To concentrate on survival skills, I think. Learn a couple of edible plants. How to start a fire. How to set a snare. How to put a sharp edge on a rock. There's really no time to learn weapons."

"Please let her know that I am on her side all the way. I will do anything and everything I can to help her."

"I hope she all ready knows that but yes, I'll tell her."

"Remind her that she has a solo session with the Gamemakers coming up. A big part of training is to get a good training score. If she can, it would be good to learn something to show them."

"What are you going to tell Geoffey?" asks Sylvia.

"I don't know. It all seems rather useless. I guess I'll just tell him to stay out of the way of the others. Maybe he can paint pictures at the camouflage station."

He continues now, disturbed, "Never mind the training. What I should do is just start hammering the arena into him. Riding that elevator up to the playing field." Karen winces at the word 'playing'. "Tell him to hop off the plate as soon as he gets there. Hop off like it was going to bite him."

"Before the gong?" asks Karen. "The land mines will still be live. They'll blow him to bits."

"That's the point. About as quick and humane way to end it as can be managed."

"Why don't you then?" asks Sylvia.

"Because the Capitol cherishes each death. You know that. They would figure he was instructed to do it, and they would feel cheated. They would take it out on me."

Marcelius replies, "You could tell him the cornucopia is full of candy and he should just run and get some."

"Same difference. They'll expect him to stay put until the gong sounds. Even if he does something entirely on his own, they'll still blame me."

They look up and Geoffey is at the door, Bobo in hand.

"What's the problem?" asks Karen.

"I can't sleep," says Geoffey, "Can someone tuck me in?

"Sure," says Clair with a sigh, rising from the table. She takes him by the hand and heads out.

"Do you think he heard?" asks Karen.

"I hope not," says Tim. "But it probably doesn't make any difference. It's unlikely he'll realize we were talking about him, and he'll probably have forgotten anything he's heard by morning."

They sit in silence again until Clair returns.

"Tomorrow is training," says Tim. "We'll just have to take this one day at a time."

6…

The next morning at the name game, Geoffey gets every one but 'Marcelius'. They tell him he's doing well and he looks pleased. After breakfast, Tim takes Geoffey into the lounge.

"In a little while," he says, "you will go down in the elevator to a great, big room where all the boys and girls will be gathered together. There are lots of different things to do in this room, and the boys and girls will be moving from one place to another. You will be there alone. Sally has other things to do and you must not bother her. You must not bother any of the other boys and girls. Some of them may be mean." This does not sound like much fun to Geoffey. "There will be places along the walls where boys and girls can do different things. Each place will have a grown-up to help the boys and girls. If you see a place where the grown-up isn't helping some one, maybe you can go there and ask them to show you what they do. Otherwise, maybe you can just quietly play with Bobo in a corner. You will have to stay there until a grown-up says you can come back here." Geoffey is not happy. It sounds like a long, boring day.

A while later, Tim takes him to the elevator. Sally and Clair are already there, and Clair presses a button that takes them deeply below ground level to the gymnasium.

This really is a big room. Geoffey stands in a circle with the other boys and girls while a big man talks and talks and talks. Some of the other boys and girls look at him and don't seem friendly at all. He looks around the room. All around on the walls hang scary things that look sharp and hurtful... big knives and spears and bows and arrows, and hammer things and things on chains and stuff. But there are other things too. Places full of plants and others with ropes tied in fancy knots. One place looks like it's full of colorful paints and another seems full of half-built forts.

The big man is talking, talking, talking until he stops and all the other kids just walk away. Some of them start messing with other people. Some of them start playing with sharp toys. They shouldn't do that. Mommy said that if you play with sharp things you could get hurt. No one pays attention to Geoffey. He clutches Bobo firmly by the arm and goes sit in a corner. He wishes he was home.

Throughout the gymnasium, the tributes go about their business. There are stations with experts in all manner of combat and survival techniques. Only firearms and explosives are not allowed. All the experts are available to all the tributes. A couple of Avoxes attend the elevators. A couple of Peacekeepers watch with idle eyes. On a mezzanine well above the floor, the Gamemakers keep a casual eye on the activities. They chat to each other, occasionally pointing to this or that tribute or, more frequently, helping themselves to a never ending buffet of food and drink.

The morning drags on and Geoffey is really bored. He gets up and walks around a bit, but all the grown ups are busy. He tries to help a boy build a fort, but the boy does not want his help and tells him to go away. He can tell that the boys and girls all just want him to go away. He is happy when someone says 'lunch break'. In a different room, Sally brings him a plate of food and glass of water. He hopes she will talk to him, but she doesn't and goes to sit somewhere else, alone.

After lunch, Geoffey goes back to his corner. He sits and tries to play with Bobo.

A bunch of the biggest kids are standing, talking together. They glance his way and a gust of laughter passes through them. A really big girl breaks away from the group and walks towards him. She carries a gleaming knife that looks very, very sharp.

"Hey feeb," she says, "how about I cut the head off that stupid doll?"

Geoffey is alarmed and suddenly afraid. He clutches Bobo closer and turns to the wall. He feels sick and it's hard to breath. Go away, he thinks. Go away. Go away. Go away. "He's not a doll, he's a bear. You leave Bobo alone," he says. He wants to be brave but this is so scary. She's so scary. Why doesn't this big girl just leave him alone? He feels sure he going to cry. Why can't mommy come?

Another boy, standing at a nearby station full of plants says, "Leave him alone, Lyme."

She spins on him and loudly snarls, "What's it to you!" She's bigger than the other boy, but he stands his ground. Geoffey huddles in his corner, glad that she has turned her attention away from him. A pair of Peacekeepers takes notice.

"Just leave him alone."

Lyme steps towards him, bristling with aggression, inviting, demanding attention. "Who are you? District 5? That's faggots and turds, right?"

She's twirling the knife between her fingers. The Peacekeepers start to move closer. The noises of training fade away. Voices go still. Everyone in the gymnasium stops their activities to watch. Muscles go rigid. Breathing stops. The air becomes electric. The Gamemakers are clustering near the edge of their space, their never-ending feast forgotten in the face of this new offering. Hunger glints in the eyes of the Careers. Most of the others show dread.

"Screw you, Lyme," says the boy, and he turns away.

Now the knife is quivering in the frame of the plant station close by the boy's head. He freezes when he sees it. His blood turns to ice. He's light headed and out of breath. But then he realizes! He realizes… these are the Hunger Games. You kill or you are killed. There is no turning away. This girl, this ogre from District 2, has just confronted him. She has done it before all the tributes, before the Gamemakers, the trainers, the Peacekeepers, even the Avoxes. She has done it in the sure and certain knowledge of his inferiority, his inability to answer, his inability to survive. To her, he is like the boy whimpering in the corner. They are all like the boy whimpering in the corner. He must respond. There is no choice. Now his heart is pounding like a drum. Tears are in his eyes and he's shaking like a leaf… but he reaches for the knife.

The Peacekeepers are between them now. "No physical contact between tributes!" one of them barks. But it's too late. The boy has seized the knife and in fear and despair, has turned and pitched it at Lyme. He's not good with a knife. In fact, it's the clumsy throw of someone who's never handled a knife before. It's surprising it sticks anywhere. But it doesn't reach her. It finds its mark with a slicing gash across the neck of a Peacekeeper. Down he goes, a fountain of blood erupting from the gaping wound. The Peacekeeper's hand feebly rises towards the wound, and then falls limp and twitching. And all hell breaks loose!

Pandemonium! Deafening sirens sound, ear-piercing, physically painful, incapacitating. Everyone in the gym clamps hands to their ears as Peacekeepers pour into the gymnasium. Where did they come from? It seems like hundreds! Thundering boots. Orders yelled. Rough hands seize the tributes and slam them up against the walls, faces to the concrete, arms high and wide, fingers splayed, legs spread to pain. The slightest sound, the smallest motion brings a rain of baton blows. Abruptly, the sirens cut out. Quiet falls until the only sound is the wailing of Geoffey, still huddled in his corner, clutching Bobo and trying to make himself so small as to disappear entirely. Two Peacekeepers loom over him.

"Nobody moves! Nobody speaks! Nobody breathes!" The booming voice fills the room. And then… nothing.

Ten, fifteen minutes pass. The sound of elevator doors opening and closing. Some quiet shuffling. More elevators. More time passes. No one moves.

Eventually the voice of a Gamemaker is heard. "The balance of today's training is cancelled. You are all to return to your quarters immediately and are confined until further notice."

Tributes un-tense… nobody relaxes. Moans and groans are heard as the tributes try to regain their balance, loosen muscles stiff and cramped. Their ears are ringing as they turn and look around them. There is no injured Peacekeeper, no trace of blood. The other Peacekeepers have disappeared as mysteriously as they arrived, but the Avox attendants at the elevators are gone. They have been replaced by personnel so heavily armored they look like nightmares from a child's tale. The tributes shuffle into the elevators but Sally is stopped. The guard nods over at Geoffey. She dies a bit, but goes to him anyhow and has to practically drag him into an elevator. Twenty-four tributes arrived in the gymnasium that morning; only twenty-three leave it. Only the girl from District 5 notices.

7…

When they reach the ninth floor, Sally realizes she still has Geoffey firmly gripped by his collar. She hauls him off the elevator, lets him fall to the ground, and runs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Geoffey stays on the floor, clutching Bobo close, and sobbing. It is quiet here and all the scary stuff has gone away. Eventually he quiets down. He wishes someone would come, but no one does. He lies down, curls up on the hallway floor and, using Bobo for a pillow, goes to sleep.

This is the scene that greets Karen and Tim when they emerge from the elevator an hour or so later. They look at each other questioningly. "What are you doing here, Geoffey?" asks Tim. A small sound comes from Sally's room. Karen is at the door in a second, looking in. "Good grief!" she exclaims. Inside the room, Sally is crouched in a corner, arms locked around her knees, sobbing quietly.

Together, they manage to get Sally up and to the table in the dining room. Geoffey has awoken and follows them, going to sit in a corner with Bobo. Sally sits at the table, head bent low, hands clasped in her lap. A glass of water sits before her, ignored, as they coax the story from her.

It's unbelievable, unprecedented, not possible. Tim can't think what to say. "Are you sure?" he asks. "Is that the whole story?"

Sally glares at him, a portrait of misery. "Isn't that enough?" she wails.

"Of course. Of course." Tim places an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry… it's just that it's so unbelievable. I can't conceive it."

"Well it happened!" yells Sally.

"I'm going to the Control Center," says Karen. "See what I can find out." She disappears from the room.

They continue to sit quietly. It's a peculiar display that greets them when the Avoxes arrive to set up for dinner. No one seems very hungry, except Geoffey. He moves to the table. The Avoxes cannot get involved unless ordered. They have no idea what's going on but do know that even the slightest independent action will be severely punished. Avoxes may see and hear strange things, but their silence is more than merely physical. Eventually, Tim's notices Geoffey and orders an Avox to give him a bowl of fruit salad. He eats slowly, in silence, watchful.

When Karen returns, she's very agitated. "Everybody knows… all the mentors. The official line is that a power outage caused training to be canceled. And then they warned everyone about spreading rumors."

"So it's true," says Tim. "Why bother with an official line? All the tributes and the teams will know the truth. Nothing to be done about that. And it's worth your life to break Training Center secrecy."

"What about the District 5 mentors?" he asks. "Was Felix there?"

"No, neither of them. Almost everyone else was there, but neither of them."

"I can't imagine…"

"Well there's no point in second guessing the capitol. The instructions are that training will be on schedule tomorrow and all the tributes are expected to be there on time."

The rest of the evening is spent silently, and both Sally and Geoffey are sent to bed early.

The next morning, everyone tries to make breakfast as normal as possible. Geoffey seems least effected and plays the name game, stumbling only over 'Marcelius' again. There's not much to say beyond refreshing the coaching from yesterday.

"We don't know what you'll find today," says Karen, "but your instructions are the same. Sally will concentrate on the survival stations and Geoffey… Geoffey will do his best to be a good boy."

"I'm scared," says Geoffey.

"I know," says Tim, "but if you follow instructions, there won't be any problems. It's a sure thing that what happened yesterday will not happen again today."

The change in the gymnasium is obvious. Dozens of Peacekeepers line the walls. Standing at regular intervals, they are dressed in full combat gear and hold automatic weapons at the ready. The tributes stand in their circle and receive an abbreviated set of instructions from the head trainer. They were told yesterday. It's the same today. The one other thing that everybody notices is the absence of the boy from District 5. The day proceeds in an almost normal fashion. The only interruptions are every two hours when the Peacekeepers are relieved. Their discipline and efficiency are intimidating. The lunchroom has its Peacekeepers too. Everyone is exceptionally quiet. Even the Careers, usually loud and overbearing, tone it down, though as they sit their faces show a certain satisfaction. No one bothers Geoffey. He is happy when the day ends and he can return to his room.

"He wasn't there," says Sally at dinner. "The boy from District 5 wasn't there."

"Nobody knows what's happening," says Tim. "I'm guessing he's still around. They showed him at the reaping and they showed him in the procession. It would be very difficult to replace him at this point."

"But he wasn't there," says Sally.

"Did everything else go normally?" asks Karen.

"Except for all the Peacekeepers. And the missing boy."

"Then we can only assume that things will continue to go normally. Tomorrow is your last day of training. Tomorrow are your solo sessions with the Gamemakers. Do you have something you can show them?"

Sally is very subdued. "I can start a fire with flint and stone."

"That's good," says Karen "Very good. I can't do that. Try to make a really big fire… to impress them."

At the name game the following morning. Geoffey gets every name except 'Marcelius' again. He gets close though, calling the stylist 'Marci'.

After breakfast, Tim takes him aside. "Today will be a bit different from the last 2 days. Today everybody sits in the room where you eat lunch. Someone will come to the lunchroom and, one by one, the boys and girls will go out into the big room. Have you seen those people standing high up on the wall?" Geoffey nods. "Each boy and girl shows them something special and then one of those people tells him or her to go back to their room."

"When your name is called, I want you to go out into that big room and go to the place where all the paints are… do you know that place?" Geoffey nods again. "Good boy. Go to place where all the paints are and draw a really big flower on the wall where they can see it."

"Mommy doesn't like me to draw on the walls," says Geoffey.

"Just this one time it's alright. Make it a big, bright, happy flower, so they can be bright and happy, and you can be bright and happy too. If there aren't any colors, paint an imaginary flower. Make believe. They can play make believe really good. But I'm sure there will be lots of colors. And after you paint the flower, you look at them until someone says you can go back to your room. Then you get on the elevator, push the number 9 button and come here. Remember the number 9 button is high up."

Together they walk to the elevator. When Geoffey is standing with Sally and Clair, Tim asks him, "What are you going to do?"

"Wait until somebody calls me," says Geoffey, "then paint a big flower on the wall. And when they tell me to go, I get on the elevator and push the number 9 and come back here."

"Very good," says Tim, "And which is the number 9?" Geoffey pushes it.

"Oh," says Clair, "and here you are!" Geoffey grins. And then they are gone.

The day goes slowly but well. By afternoon, both Geoffey and Sally have made it back.

"How did it go?" asks Karen.

"I got a fire started, but it wasn't anything special," says Sally.

"With flint and stone?" Sally nods.

"You bet that's special!" says Tim, "there's not many people who can do that."

"And what about you Geoffey?"

Geoffey breaks into a big grin. "I painted a really big flower with lots of colors!"

"That's fine," says Tim. "Just fine."

After Dinner, they gather before the television to watch the training scores: a head shot of each tribute with a number between 1 and 12. These are the Gamemakers' estimations of a tribute's potential. The higher the score the better. It matters to the audience, to the oddsmakers, to potential sponsors.

The boy from District 5 scores a 4.

"I haven't seen him," says Sally.

"I don't know," says Tim. "Neither does his mentor," and quietly adds, "who was thankfully there today."

"None of the others knows anything either. I guess it says something that he's still on the roster, but maybe not. Maybe we'll know something tomorrow, at the interviews."

"How could they score him?" asks Sally.

"Probably just stuck in a number," says Karen.

"It's not enough to make him a target," says Tim.

When District 9 rolls around, Geoffey points at his picture on the screen and says, "That's me." He scores a 1.

"Well…" says Clair very quietly, "you know that one is the very first number."

Geoffey holds up Bobo so he can see the picture. "One is the very first number," he repeats.

Sally scores a 6, and the team congratulates her.

8…

They play the name game at breakfast in the morning, and Geoffey finally gets them all without help… even 'Marcelius'.

"Your on-air interviews will be tomorrow night," says Karen. "Today will be preparation for content and presentation. Clair, Tim, and I will be working with you to determine how you will present yourselves onstage. Tomorrow you spend with the stylists and prep teams. They will see that you look the part."

After breakfast, she and Sally disappear to another room, leaving Tim and Geoffey together. It's a problem, isn't it? In one respect it's very easy: Geoffey will act the way Geoffey acts, and there's no hope of changing that in a couple of hours. The trick will be to prepare him for what it's like to be onstage so that what happens won't surprise or alarm him. To drum into him what the procedure will be when the interviews will take place.

"Tomorrow night," he tells Geoffey, "you and Sally and all the other boys and girls are going to be on television. You are going to meet a strange man whose name is Caesar Flickerman. He's very nice man, but he is very loud, and he looks most peculiar. This is something you have to do, and we must get you ready."

It's a surprisingly long day. He starts with a description of Caesar's white painted face, his color matched hair, eyebrows and lipstick, his deep blue suit twinkling with hundreds of tiny lights. He is careful to paint Caesar as a happy and playful clown. He comes back to this image again and again.

He describes the tributes lined up to go on stage, the long row of chairs that waits them and how each will take a chair in turn. He corrals a pair of hapless attendants and forms a line with them, himself and Geoffey, marching from the hall into a room with chairs set in a row. He does this again and again with Geoffey at the start, at the back, in the middle, teaching him to take his seat in turn. He tries to make it a game. When the attendants must leave, he continues the game as best he can with just himself and Geoffey, stressing again and again that Geoffey's one and only place will be just behind Sally. He turns on the TV and is pleased to find a re-run of the procession. He cranks up the volume until the thundering music and roaring crowd nearly shake the windows. And then they play the game again amidst the noise.

After lunch, Clair joins them and they do it all over again. Clair suggests marching, stepping high and swinging arms. The other boys and girls will not be doing this, but Geoffey is special. This is Geoffey's special walk.

Tim leaves Clair and Geoffey alone for a bit and Clair spends the time trying to get him to sit straight, head up, big smile… always a big smile. When Tim returns, he is transformed. He wears a dark blue shirt and pants and his face is painted entirely white. Geoffey looks at him with astonishment.

"This is a bit how Caesar… the clown, will look," says Tim. "He will talk to every single boy and girl, one at a time. He will start with a girl at one end of the line and talk to her. He will call her name and she will go and talk to him. After she goes back and sits down, he will call the boy sitting beside her and the boy will get up and go to talk to him. And that will happen with every single boy and girl. After he calls Sally, and after Sally talks to him and comes back to sit down, he will call you."

Tim goes to the far end of the room and stands there talking and talking until he loudly says, "Geoffey Lynx, the tribute from District 9!" Geoffey learns that when he hears this, he is to go to where Tim is standing, go to where the clown will be standing tomorrow night. Tim makes funny faces and says stuff to Geoffey over and over again and Geoffey must answer him back until Clair makes a bell-like noise and he learns that that is when he is to go back and sit down. While he does, Tim repeats, "Geoffey Lynx, the tribute from District 9!" Again and again they do this. And then it's supper and there is no more that can be done.

After supper, sitting in the lounge, Tim tells Geoffey that the day after he meets the clown; he will be taking a long trip with Marcelius. He tells him that a big machine that flies through the air will arrive early in the morning to take them far away. Tim doesn't know what it will be like where they're going, but Geoffey must be very good and do what Marcelius says. But Geoffey is tired, and it sounds like a bedtime story. Soon he is in bed and asleep.

Later in the evening, after Sally has gone to her room, the mentors, stylists, chaperone sit and talk.

"Sally did very well," says Clair, "Gowns and shoes are always a problem for the girls. Apparently no one in the districts ever wears them. But her deportment only took a bit of tweaking."

"There's not a lot of opportunity for gowns in the districts," responds Karen quietly, a touch of sarcasm in her voice. "She can be quite a sunny girl, but there's no doubt the stress is wearing her down. Sunny is what we're going for. She's walking a very thin line."

"It's not a problem," says Sylvia, "we'll be aiming at a girl-next-door look, a very summery dress and low-heeled pumps."

"I don't get any impression that Geoffey even knows what's going on," says Tim. "When he's good, he just does what he's told to do without any apparent concern as to why, and no awareness at all of what comes next."

"When he's good," replies Marcelius.

Karen says, "I think Sally is really terrified about going into the arena."

"Who can blame her," says Tim. "Weren't you? "I know I was."

He looks at Marcelius. "I've told Geoffey he'll be taking a trip with you the day after, but I don't know how much he even heard. It's a cinch you're going to have to explain about the hovercraft to him. I've told him about it, but it won't be the same as actually seeing it. And you'd better warn him about the immobilizer as well. I forgot. It scares everyone the first time they're taken into one of those things. It sure scared me!"

He continues, "You'll have to explain the launch procedure when you get there. I haven't even touched on it. Didn't see the point. I don't even know if he'll remember tomorrow what he was taught today."

Marcelius says, "The bear could be a problem."

"Why?" asks Tim.

"He won't let go of it. It's bad enough amongst us, but… I suppose he can take it into the arena as his district token, as his own little bit of home, but if he's going to do that, if he's going to take it with him into the arena, it will have to be vetted by the committee. It will have to be taken from him and out of his hands and out of his sight... for hours at least. And he won't get it back unless they approve it. No matter what, he won't get it back until he gets to the launch room."

"I don't think it will be a problem. The tokens get vetted tomorrow, after the interviews, when the final uniform inspection is done. They never find any contraband in the uniforms. Rarely in the tokens. That bear certainly poses no risk. We'll take it after he's asleep. There'll still be time. He'll only be without it for a couple of hours"

"If you say so. But you'll be cutting it awfully close, and he's awfully attached to that bear."

Tomorrow comes, and after the breakfast name game, at which Geoffey is now confident, Tim quizzes him about the coming evening's events. Geoffey seems to have a reasonable grasp and it's too late to do more anyway. He turns him over to Marcelius.

The day could be a lot worse. There's lot of squirming and fidgeting. The bath is a trial, and trying to apply make-up is like trying to hit a moving target. There are some tears, some frustration on both sides, and some yelling. It's a blessing that the haircut happens in sullen silence. Marcelius thanks his lucky stars that Geoffey does not have a beard, and that tedious procedure can be dispensed with. But the day passes and at the end of it, Geoffey stands apple-cheeked and shining in blue sneakers and blue denim bib overalls over a red short-sleeved shirt. The front of the overalls is embroidered with a large oilcan, and under that arc the words District 9. Very much a little boy look.

Evening has come and all the tributes are in line, waiting to ascend to the stage. Even the boy from District 5 is there with caked-on make-up, glassy eyed, stiff, a burly attendant in hospital white to either side. The stage is a temporary structure outside the Training Center and bordering on the city circle. Stage and circle are flooded with light for the benefit of the massed cameras. The crowd, cramming into the available space and spilling down the adjoining streets, is massive. The air vibrates with a continuous buzz. Music blares out, filling the air and the tributes start climbing the stairs to the stage. As they move from shadow into light, a roar from the crowd greets them. There is a slight delay at District 5. "Get moving," says one of the attendants and the boy laboriously, gingerly, starts to climb the steps. "You!" snarls the other attendant at the following girl, "Keep him moving." She's terrified, but what can she say? The attendants remain behind.

On stage the seats are filling as tributes reach their stations. Another pair of attendants is in place as the District 5 boy takes his seat. Geoffey is just now reaching the stage. The lights are so bright and the music so loud. And so many, many people. But he remembers what he is supposed to do and starts marching across the stage. His knees are high, his arms swinging vigorously when suddenly Bobo flies from his grip, spinning through the air, landing in a skid to the edge of the stage. Geoffey darts from line to rescue him. Peacemakers are instantly alert, about to spring in pursuit, but Geoffey snatches Bobo up and scrambles back to his place, back to his place behind Sally. A ripple of laughter rolls through the crowd, a ripple of unease through the Peacekeepers, and a ripple of relief through his support team, as the remaining tributes all take their places.

Now Caesar Flickerman, the perennial Hunger Games host, bounds onto the stage. There's a twinkle in his eye and a joke on his lips and soon the entire audience is laughing and cheering. The tiny lights on his blue suit sparkle and dance and this year, his hair, eyebrows and lipstick all match the white paint of his face. He looks like some strange, capering snowman.

The crowd marginally calms as Caesar gets down to business. Each tribute gets three minutes in the spotlight. Three minutes to interact with Caesar, to show the crowd what they are made of, to attract popularity and sponsors. The cameras cover them from every angle, vying to show each at his or her very best.

When he reaches the boy from District 5, a shiver of tension runs through the tributes. The boy does not respond until one of his attendants gives him a surreptitious prod. He shuffles to the front of the stage. The cameras pull back for a distant view as Caesar puts his arm gently around the boy's shoulders and gives him a look of silent concern. As he steps back, the cameras close in on Flickerman. In a grave tone, he speaks of elevators, accidents and falls. Close-ups show his distress, but they do not show the boy. Now Caesar is praising the Capitol's doctors and hospitals, the depths of medical knowledge, the heights of technology, the compassion of the Capitol itself. He speaks of miracle cures and lightning fast recoveries. The light of hope illuminates his face. His eyes glow, fill with tears, as he speaks of courage, perseverance, indomitable spirit, dedication, district pride, determination and the will to succeed… The bell sounds, the boy shuffles back to his seat, the crowd roars its approval. The show moves on. By the time Caesar has finished with the tributes of District 6, the boy from 5 is forgotten.

And now Sally is at the front of the stage. She sparkles and laughs, and Caesar sparkles and laughs, and the crowd eats them both up. In no time she back in her seat and Flickerman is calling, "District 9, Geoffey Lynx!" At first Geoffey does not respond. He has been lost in all the dazzle. Finally Sally hisses, "Get up there!" and he remembers and goes to meet the snowman.

"Well, Geoffey," says Caesar, "you almost lost your little friend." Geoffey nods. "Is this your district token?"

Geoffey doesn't know what he means, but he manages to say, "This is Bobo. He's my bear." Laughter passes through the crowd.

"Hold him up so everyone can see." Geoffey holds Bobo high over his head. Applause and cheers shake the air.

"Geoffey and Bobo! Together in the arena!" thunders Caesar. The crowd goes mad.

Turning now to Geoffey, Caesar asks, "How do you like the Capitol?"

Geoffey takes a while to respond. "I miss mommy." A sympathetic sigh rustles the crowd.

"Well…" says Caesar, "did you know you are on television right now, and your mommy is watching you from far, far away?" Geoffey looks at him, his eyes wide, and shakes his head. "It's true," says Caesar. "Television is like magic. You can't see her, but she can see you and hear everything you say." He pauses. "Is there anything you'd like to say to mommy?"

Geoffey thinks a moment, decides that what the snowman has said may be true, and then says, "I love you mommy. I miss you."

The crowd is nearly silent when the bell sounds and Caesar says, in a quiet and reverent voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen… Geoffey Lynx, Tribute of District 9!" A round of applause fills the air as Geoffey returns to his seat.

As Caesar continues down the line of tributes, Geoffey sits quietly in his seat playing with Bobo. Making him do a little dance.

The final tribute has completed his interview. Caesar is making his closing remarks. He turns profile to the crowd and makes a sweeping gesture down the line of tributes. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he bellows, "I give you the tributes of the 46th Hunger Games!"

All the tributes rise, and Sally hisses at Geoffey so he stands too. There's one last roar of appreciation from the crowd, and then the national anthem is playing. The lights dim. The tributes leave the stage. The show is over.

Back in the Training Center shortly after, the whole team is enthusiastic. They congratulate Sally profusely. She has surpassed herself and earned real points with the crowd and with potential sponsors. Geoffey gets his share of praise as well. It has gone better then could be hoped. They sit and watch the televised recap, clapping and cheering when the District 9 tributes are shown. After the recap, the tributes are sent to bed. Tomorrow they enter the arena. They need their rest.

Clair takes Geoffey to go his room. "You need your sleep," she says. "Tomorrow, very early, Marcelius is going to take you on a long trip, far away."

"Where to?" asks Geoffey. He remembers Tim saying something like this. He hopes it will be someplace nice. Maybe even mommy will be there. But deep down he doesn't think so. She is gone.

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

"Will mommy be there?" he asks, daring to hope.

"You'll see."

" Will you tuck me in?"

Clair hesitates, then relents. "Yes. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

" Will you tuck in Bobo too?"

"Yes," she sighs, "Bobo too."

"And a story?"

"You have to go to bed now." She goes to say a few last words to Sally.

Geoffey goes to his room and changes into blue pajamas. They're not his pajamas and don't smell like the ones from mommy, but the color's okay. He wishes they had bunnies. He sits on the side of his bed thinking. It's so lonely here. Miss Clair is okay, but that painted man tonight was really scary with all the noise and all the lights. Sally wasn't nice at all, but she never is. Marcelius is scary too. He looks scary and smells funny and sometimes he yells. Then he tries to be nice. His friends yell a lot too when they try to put paint and stuff on Geoffey, that he does not like at all. It's icky. And they never try to be nice. And tomorrow Marcelius is taking Geoffey someplace far away. He hopes mommy will be there. It's a good thing Bobo is here. Bobo is always his friend.

In a little bit, Clair comes into the room. He gets up and she turns down the sheets.

"Into bed now," she orders. Geoffey climbs into bed and Clair tucks the blankets in close.

"Bobo too," he says, and she tucks Bobo tightly into the blankets where Geoffey hugs him.

"Story?" he asks.

"No story. You need your sleep." She stares down at him, a funny look on her face. "Tomorrow, when you go on your trip with Marcelius, you must try to be very good. You must do what he says and not make a fuss. I know you can because you've been good as gold all week. I'm glad I've met you and I hope we've been friends." Then she bends down and kisses him on the forehead. She leaves, closing the door behind her. He lies a while in the dark. It's scary, but Bobo is here to protect him.

Back in the lounge, Tim suddenly looks at Marcelius. "I forgot completely," he says, "You'll have to explain the launch procedure to him."

"You already said," says Marcelius.

"Oh." Then he continues, "I forgot to tell him about the start. Well… after years of watching the games on TV, it's the sort of thing you expect them to know, isn't it? But I don't think we can expect it of him. You'd better explain it to him, Marcelius. Tell him… tell him the other lids will be playing statue and he must play it best, at least until they all start running around. He must stay on the plate."

Marcelius sighs, and nods.

Clair says, "I thought I'd die when he dropped the bear." The others just nod in agreement.

"What did you think of the boy from 5?" asks Karen.

"It's not good," says Tim.

More silent nods of agreement.

9…

Dawn lights the room when Geoffey wakes up. Today he takes a trip with Marcilius. He lies in bed thinking about him. Marcilius. A grown-up. He must do what the grown-ups tell him… but Marcilius? He looks so funny and smells so stinky. Grown-ups. Mommy told him: You must listen to them and do what they tell you. You must try so hard to be good, and brave. Geoffey hopes it will be a short trip. He sits up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. At least Bobo… Wait a minute. Where's Bobo? Geoffey looks around him. Where's Bobo? He stands up, worried. Bobo's not on the bed. Geoffey looks on the sheets and through the sheets and under the sheets and there's no Bobo. He's not under the pillow. Did he fall out of bed? Geoffey gets down and looks under the bed. Then he gets up and crawls over the bed to check the other side. No Bobo. Now he is really worried. There's a sharp knock at the door and Marcilius comes into the room. "Come on Geoffey," he says. "We have to go."

"I can't find Bobo," Geoffey says, his concern obvious.

"Don't worry about Bobo. He'll be where we're going. "

"No! Bobo doesn't go anyplace without me."

"Come along now Geoffey. We really must go and Bobo will be there."

"I want Bobo!" says Geoffey loudly. "I won't go!" He sits on the bed, legs tight together, arms locked across his chest.

Marcelius crosses the room. He takes Geoffey under the arm and tries to raise him from the bed. "Geoffey, this won't do. We must go. If you won't come with me, I'll have to get someone to make you come."

Geoffey squirms free of his touch. "I won't go!"

Marcelius makes a sound of exasperation and leaves the room. Geoffey sits on the side of the bed, fuming. It's all too much! First mommy can't come and he misses her so, so much. And then all these grown-ups make him do stupid, scary things, and make him dress up in silly clothes. And none of the other kids like him. They all pick on him. Even Sally. And some of them are horrible scary. His only friend in all of this is Bobo. He has tried so hard, so very hard, to be good and brave. And now Bobo's gone. He's so sad, so miserable, he can't help it and starts to cry. He wants mommy so bad. If only she was here. He wants Bobo.

Marcelius comes back into the room followed closely by two Peacekeepers. "Will you come with us?" he asks Geoffey. Geoffey shakes his head and pulls himself in even tighter. "Take him," says Marcelius.

And now the Peacekeepers' heavily gloved hands have seized Geoffey by the arms. It hurts so much and Geoffey is squirming and screaming and trying to break free. The tears are streaming down his face as they roughly imprison his arms, lift him clear off the ground and carry him from the room. Up a flight of stairs, onto an open roof they carry the writhing boy. And there a new horror waits! There's a huge gray machine hanging in the sky. Just hanging there! It's huge and it's dark and Geoffey has never seen anything like it and never wants to.

A yellow square opens in the bottom of the machine and a ladder drops down and the Peacekeepers carry him towards it. Geoffey is twisting and screaming but it's impossible, impossible to break free and each step takes them closer until they reach the ladder. A Peacekeeper slams Geoffey's hand down, forces his fingers around a rung and suddenly, so suddenly he is frozen! Frozen like a statue. Can't move one single muscle. Geoffey's terror is complete as the ladder rises up, up into the machine.

Inside is cool and the light is dim as a door slides shut beneath him. Still he can't move. A lady in white comes towards him and she's holding a big needle. She's saying something, something soothing, but Geoffey does not hear. And then she sticks the needle in his arm and it hurts so bad. Then suddenly, all his muscles are loose and he falls hard to the floor. He sits there, holding his arm, and cries and cries.

Marcelius appears, walking towards him. "I'm so sorry Geoffey," he says, "but nothing can be done to stop the schedule." He pulls the now unresisting boy to his feet and leads him into a large room. He seats him in a plain metal chair. "You are on board a hovercraft. It's a big machine that flies through the air and it will take us to the arena… the place where you will spend the rest of your time." Geoffey stares at the floor, despondent, defeated. He rubs his sore arm where the needle went. "The nurse injected a little thing in your arm called a tracker," says Marcelius, "so the Gamemaker's will know exactly where you are when you are in the arena." Geoffey doesn't know trackers, doesn't know Gamemakers, doesn't know arenas, doesn't care. There's no mommy and no Bobo, just mean grown-ups. There's nothing for Geoffey.

"The hovercraft will land just outside the arena," continues Marcelius, "We will travel underground to a place called the launch room. There you will put on your arena costume." Geoffey notices he's still in his pajamas and his feet are bare. "And from there an elevator will lift you into the arena." There's nothing to say. Marcelius asks him if he wants something to eat, something to drink? Geoffey just shakes his head and keeps staring at the floor.

They sit in silence for a very long time. The hovercraft drones on and on to its final destination. At last, Marcelius says, "We're here. We have to go now." He takes Geoffey by the hand and leads him back to the ladder.

Geoffey is scared and takes a step back. "No."

Marcelius says, "You have to do this. Just one more time. Get on to the ladder, close your eyes and hold on tight. Just like last time, you'll feel like you can't move at all, but that will last for just a little bit. When you feel you can move, just let go of the ladder and step back." Geoffey, his face cast in resentment and bitterness, looks at Marcelius but says nothing. "Will you do this for me?" asks Marcelius, "Can you be brave one more time?"

Geoffey gives a small nod. What choice does he have? He steps up, closes his eyes and step onto the ladder. That thing happens again where he can't move. He's so scared, but then it stops. He lets go of the ladder and steps back.

Marcelius says, "You can open your eyes now Geoffey." He does, and there's Marcelius beside him. They are standing inside, at the end of a very large hallway. Plain gray walls, roof, and floor stretch off in one direction. There's a small cart there with chubby little wheels. A Peacekeeper sits in front. Marcelius leads Geoffey to the cart and sits him in the back, then sits beside him. The peacekeeper starts the cart and they drive soundlessly down the long hallway until they reach a large open room with a low ceiling. They all leave the car. The Peacekeeper stations himself at the entrance to the room.

Geoffey looks around him. There's a big shower and a toilet in one corner. In the center of the room there is a circular metal plate set in the floor and, above it, a large circular opening in the ceiling. Along one wall runs a wooden bench. There's a pile of clothes on the bench and sitting on top of the clothes, wrapped all in clear plastic… can it be! "BOBO!" screams Geoffey. He races to the clothes, tears the plastic away and stands back. Yes! It's Bobo! Bobo is here! He's laughing and crying as he snatches Bobo up and hugs him close. "I missed you so much," he whispers into Bobo's ear. Then he turns to Marcelius holding the bear before him. "See! It's Bobo!"

Marcelius does that thing with his eyes that Sally does and says quietly, "I told you he'd be here."

Now Geoffey is so happy he hardly fusses at all as Marcelius dresses him in the clothes. They are very bright. The shirt is yellow with shiny white stripes, the pants are orange, and the shoes are as yellow as the shirt. What does Geoffey care? He's has Bobo!

"Now listen to me," says Marcelius. "There's one more scary thing to do. You are going to have to stand on that metal circle. It's an elevator, but not like the ones you know. There are no buttons to push. It works all by itself. You will stand on the circle and a big tube-like thing is going to come down around you, and the metal plate will lift you high up until you are standing outside. And that will be the arena. Can you do that?" Geoffey nods yes. He can do anything now that Bobo is with him again.

"Will Mommy be there?" he asks.

Marcelius looks at him for a long time. "Yes. Not right away, but she will come."

Geoffey's face radiates joy. First Bobo, and now mommy! Could there be a better day!

"But there are other things first," says Marcelius. "Now you must listen carefully and do what I say." Geoffey is all ears. Anything to make this day happen. "First you have to ride on that metal circle all the way up until you are outside." Geoffey nods vigorously. He can be good. He can be brave. "When you are outside, you must stay on this metal circle. You must play statue. When you look around, you will see a big, gold building thing shaped like a great big horn. There are lots of interesting things around and inside the horn, but you must leave them alone and stay on your plate playing statue." Geoffey nods. "When you go outside, there will be like a big voice in the sky, a voice saying 'Welcome to the Hunger Games'. That's not for you. You just stay on your circle. All the other boys and girls will be there as well, and each one will be standing on a circle just like yours. They will all be playing statue too. You will all stand there for a long, long time until a loud musical note sounds in the sky. Then you will see all the other boys and girls running all over the place. Many will be running to the big, gold horn thing… but you don't. You sit down on your plate and you wait for mommy. It may be a long, long time before she gets here, but that is where she knows you will be. Do you understand?" Geoffey nods. "Tell me what you're going to do," asks Marcelius.

"I'm going to ride up on the circle thing until I'm outside. Then I'm going to play statue until all the other boys and girls start running around. And then I'm going to sit down and wait for mommy."

"Very good. But first we can sit here for a while. Would you like something to drink?"

Now Geoffey is thirsty and happily accepts a bottle of water. After they have sat together silently for a few minutes, a woman's voice is heard saying, "Prepare for launch."

"Time to stand on the circle and prepare to go up," says Marcelius. He leads Geoffey over to the metal plate and gets him centered. "Hold on tight to Bobo," he says. "Big smile. That's it. If it's too scary, just close your eyes." Geoffey is beaming as the tube slides down over him and the plate starts to rise.

Marcelius walks back to the wooden bench. He sits and leans back against the wall, exhausted, drained, staring up at the ceiling, and waits. His heart is pounding, and so is his head. Faintly he hears the announcer's familiar voice open the games. There is no sudden explosion. Exactly one minute later, a gong sounds as if from very far away. That's it, then. He wonders about lying to the boy about his mother. He doesn't feel good about that, but it got the kid's co-operation. And really… how long does that boy have to live? A couple of minutes? Was it so terrible to give him some hope, however false, for the last few minutes of his life?

For sixteen years Marcelius has been a game's stylist, mostly for the tributes of District 9. He has seen terrified children, fatalistic children, children with bright but desperate hope, children grasping at faint hope, children with no hope at all. He even once had a Victor. He has dressed them all. Made them look their very best. Delivered them to the arena. Never has he had a child like this. Being a stylist brings him celebrity and, yes, fortune. He travels in high circles, attends the best parties, lives at a fine address, enjoys the sumptuous benefits of Capitol life. But sometimes, just sometimes, he wonders if it's worth it. Sometimes there seems to be such a cost. From his pocket he takes a small and finely wrought gold box. He opens it and selects a tiny, electric blue pill that he swallows dry. Now he starts to feel better.

At first it's good. The sun is warm and there's a faint breeze. There's the gold building thingy that Marcelius talked about, and now there's a great booming voice in the sky. He looks around and sees all the other kids standing, just like Marcelius said, playing statue. Geoffey plays statue too. He's good at playing statue. They stand a long time and then a great gong sound fills the sky. All of a sudden, kids are running all over the place. But Geoffey stays where he is. He sits down on the metal circle. This is where mommy knows to find him. He looks around and sees far away where one other kid stays standing on his circle. Maybe his mommy is coming too. He looks at the other kids. Some are lying on the ground now. But they look all wrong. Some are yelling. Some are screaming, bleeding. They seem to be fighting. Fighting with sharp things. Some are looking very, very hurt. This is not fun at all. This is very scary. He sits on the metal plate and squeezes his eyes shut, clamps his hands over his ears. Bobo snuggles safely in his lap. This is not a nice place. He wishes he wasn't here. When will mommy come? He aches to go home. He sits like this for a long time until the sounds quiet down. When he opens his eyes and looks, most of the other kids have gone. He doesn't know where. Some, far away, are still fighting. Bunches of kids are lying on the ground not moving. There's lots and lots of blood. He really, really wishes mommy would come now and take him away from this horrible place. But mommy doesn't come. Instead, she comes… the girl from the big room with all the noise. The girl who said she would hurt Bobo.

This is bad trouble, this mean girl. "No!" he shouts. "No!"

As she comes closer, he sees she has a really long knife and it's all red, and red is splashed all over her…

"No!" He is frantic now. Engulfed by panic. Terrified. "No!" he screams, "You stop! You go away! You can't hurt Bobo! I won't let you!" His arms are wrapped around Bobo, clutching him tight. But she doesn't stop. She doesn't go away. And now she's almost reached him.

He turns from her and scrunches down tightly, folding Bobo into his body, hiding him from this mean, mean girl. "No!" he sobs. "You can't hurt Bobo!" And she doesn't.

Later, after the cannons have sounded, after the hovercraft have taken away the bodies, the bodies from this first day, from this initial bloodbath, a small group of Careers gather. Television coverage is focused elsewhere at this moment. It will always focus elsewhere when this scene draws attention. The Careers gather around the lone figure still standing on his plate. Ropes hold him up secured to a short post. His face is battered almost beyond recognition. One eye is gone. His nose is smashed, bloody, swollen. His mouth hangs open, disjointed. Blood oozes from angry red welts and huge black bruises. It mats his hair and there are strange dents in his skull. His arms and legs bend in odd places, at odd angles… his fingers too. Blood seeps through the shirt of his arena costume. His pants are soiled and stained. But he is not dead. No, he is not dead. Heavy plastic bags are secured to the post near his head, their liquid contents dripping down through tubes into his arms. They can hear a faintly whistling rasp of breath. A tiny spasm elicits a strange sound, too faint to be a whimper. The Careers do nothing. They approach no closer. Small signs, carefully inconspicuous in the grass, promise Capitol retribution to anyone who touches this boy.

Bobo's shiny black button eyes are turned up through the long grass to the night sky. The faces of 13 tributes each glow briefly there and are gone forever. For Geoffey Lynx, the 46th Hunger Games are over. Four more nights pass, and three more tributes die, before the boy from District 5 goes home. He made the final eight.