Shining, Shimmering, Splendid
I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me, princess, now when did
You last let your heart decide?
I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride
A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us "No"
Or where to go
Or say we're only dreaming
From A Whole New World - Lyrics written for the feature film, Aladdin
Part 1
"Over here!" hissed Katniss as she stood, seemingly indifferent, next to the stack of boxed diapers. Johanna, her partner in crime and one of her best friends, ran her hands over the bottles of fever medicine, handling each and reading the labels in feigned concentration. Katniss was becoming impatient but she didn't want to draw the attention of the cashier, a middle-aged man who was already casting strange looks at her.
Quick as lightning, Johanna slipped two bottles into her army overcoat, the one she'd found at the Salvation Army a few weeks ago. Lingering a few minutes more, Johanna called nonchalantly over her shoulder, for Katniss' and the cashier's benefit, "I don't have enough to buy these anyway. Let's go."
They left the store and hurried down Romar Avenue before making a quick left turn, putting them out of sight of the drug store. Johanna dug into the giant inner pocket of the overcoat.
"Here...for Prim," she smiled triumphantly, a smile Katniss acknowledged with a nod. "This should get her fever down."
Johanna jiggled her pockets again, digging out random bags of chips and cookies. "Thought I'd pick up some snacks while I was at it."
"Johanna!" Katniss laughed despite herself. She never stole more than she needed but they were always hungry so she took the proffered chips from her friend.
"There they go!" came the sound of a gruff, angry voice behind them. "Those are the two thieves!"
Katniss turned her head just in time to see two burly police officers flanking the cashier from the drugstore. Her feet were already in motion when she heard Johanna shout, "Run!" This was not the first time they'd been chased by cops so they already had a contingency plan - Johanna ran one way, and Katniss the other. And they tried their best to never get caught.
Katniss darted across Booker Avenue, just barely colliding into a stroller full of babies. To Katniss' adrenaline-addled mind, it reminded her of those circus cars that kept emptying an impossible number of clowns onto the circus floor. She deftly dodged the group - Katniss was fast and knew these streets in her sleep. She felt her short jacket flap against her hip as she hurtled down Bergenline, a street that was literally forty city blocks of stores, bodegas, boutiques and restaurants. She was on the nicer side, the side that had jobs and money and houses and cars, the side that she visited every now and then to lift a wallet or pocket jewelry, but could never, ever afford to even window shop on her own.
Katniss looked back to see her pursuer a good block and a half away from her, also struggling to get through the crowds. So she didn't see the young man who stepped out in front of her until she'd literally slammed into him.
"Whoa! What are you doing?" he exclaimed as he steadied her, his warm hands gripping her upper arms.
"Let me go!" Katniss said desperately, the police officer winding his way too quickly through the crowd. People yelped as the man elbowed pedestrians aside. A quick glance in the direction of the officer, together with the squirming young lady before him, appeared to be all that the young man needed to understand her predicament.
"In here," he said, pulling her into a shop. Katniss almost resisted but the idea of spending any amount of time in jail again was enough for her to calm down and cooperate. She found herself inside a very fashionable men's shop, where expensive pants and suits hung wrinkle-free from their hangers. The shop didn't have the old, stale smell of packed clothing that clung to everything she bought from the Salvation Army. It was the smell of something musky and manly and she liked it, despite herself.
When her pounding heart had stilled, she finally took a good, long look at the boy who, quite without any provocation, appeared to be trying to save her from arrest. Just like the store, he was well off - from the top of his carelessly styled blond curls to the tips of his perfectly shaped fingernails. He was handsome - bright blue eyes, clear complexion, perfect row of teeth. He was also healthy - his chest was broad and stretched the fabric of his t-shirt in places. He had a medium build but, given her own size, he was taller than her by a good head anyway. And he was kind - at least, he appeared so to her. Katniss didn't trust his altruism or anyone else's for that matter. So her sudden ease with him as the police officer continued his chase past the front of the shop, made her nervous.
"Thanks," she said gruffly, looking up at her erstwhile savior who openly appraised her.
"No problem. So, why are the police chasing you? Are you some kind of double agent?" he teased, which made his eyes twinkle. Katniss had to admit that when he smiled, he was almost irresistible.
"Eh, no," she said, clearing her head. "I just got into a tight spot. Thanks alot for your help. I'll just go now." she said, scanning the street through the display window to be sure her pursuer was no longer nearby.
"Well, don't leave yet!" he said hastily. "I mean, they might still be outside."
"Nah," Katniss said, distracted by studying the crowds moving along the busy street. "I hope they have better things to do than look for me." She looked up at him and suddenly felt awkward. He had saved her from getting arrested and she felt like it was in poor form to just go. And yet, she knew the officer could be back at any time. They could pull up the street cameras and track her to this shop easily, if they were sufficiently motivated. Katniss couldn't afford to test her luck.
He held out his hand. "I'm Peeta, by the way."
"And I'm...really grateful that you helped me out," Katniss hedged as she took his large hand in hers.
"Ah, have to keep the identity under wraps. I get it. Well, it was nice meeting you, Secret Agent," he said, holding her hand a beat longer than necessary before letting it drop.
"Bye, Peeta." she said, suddenly a bit lightheaded because his name rolled like honey off of her tongue. Shaking her head to clear her distracting thoughts, she stepped out onto the pavement and wound her way through the crowds, looking back as she did so to see Peeta staring after her from the doorway.
XXXXX
Katniss was paranoid as she took a roundabout way to get home. She kept pulling her hoody down over her head, trying to shrink into her jacket. She headed towards Northside and the Seam, which was a collection of tenement complexes where the poor of the city lived. It was a veritable concrete maze of buildings that she could disappear into. Her own complex would be further south but once she entered the abandoned buildings, she would be untrackable.
As she stood at the crosswalk, waiting for her turn to cross the street, she saw the cop at the exact moment they saw her. Katniss broke into a run across the busy boulevard, with little heed for the oncoming cars, who honked noisily at her.
"Stop or you'll be charged with resisting arrest as well as shoplifting!" one of the officers hollered breathlessly. "Then you'll be in real trouble!"
"You're not in trouble unless you get caught," she muttered under her breath as she darted into the small alley, leaping effortlessly over the metal barriers shielding pedestrians from the perpetual construction along Weehawken Avenue. She stumbled when she landed, allowing the officers to close in on her but a quick feint to the left caused one officer to miss her braid by a hair as she barrelled into the "projects," as her mother called them.
The doorway she searched for appeared before her, a doorless gaping hole on the side of a concrete monolith whose darkness loomed ominously before her. Luckily, she had the layout of the building memorized. She slid across discarded cardboard from the homeless who took up residence in the abandoned rooms, seeking relief from the harsh Panem City winters. She heard the police officer clamber noisily over the detritus as Katniss burst into apartment 5b, darting towards the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. In the walk-in closet, was a hole the size of a child. Some dealer had dug it out in a time before the buildings had been condemned to languish like a rotten eyesore in the middle of warehouses and tenement blocks.
Even in the dark, Katniss had no trouble finding the tiny crawl space which linked the apartment to the basement below. Katniss slinked like a cat along the support beams, skirting chewed-through electrical wire and concrete reinforcements to land in the damp basement below. She could hear the officer banging about, his sounds of angry searching filtering down into the small hole. Dusting herself off, Katniss trudged through the maze of moldy rooms, stopping every now and then when she thought she might have heard any of the number of homeless who called this building home or the giant rats that roamed freely. Given the sheer number of rooms above-ground, it was unlikely anyone would take up residence down here with the cat-sized rodents.
Katniss finally found the double metal shutters that were the external access to the basement below. Carefully opening the heavy closures to reduce the unbearably loud sound of the unoiled hinges creaking into the warm spring air, she slipped out, looking furtively around her. There was no sign of the police officer. Likely, he was inside, still trying to figure out where she'd gone. Patting the pocket of her jeans, she felt the bulge of the bottle of Ibuprofen, only just now hearing the rattling of the pills inside. Heaving a sigh of relief and thankful for abandoned government projects and handsome blond strangers with names that sounded like bread, Katniss began her long walk back home.
XXXXX
"We gave those guys a run for their money!" Johanna gloated, jumping up from the steps as Katniss made her way inside the concrete building that held the apartment she shared with her mother and younger sister, Prim.
"It was close," Katniss said, thinking again of Peeta, the blond-haired boy with the bread name who had helped her out of a tight spot. She repressed the urge to tell her best friend about that encounter and instead asked Johanna how she fared.
"Shook that fat fuck right around the Heights and ended up taking a train back home," she laughed, running her hands through her short, dark hair and shaking out the strands, something she did almost unconsciously. Katniss unlocked the door of the apartment and went directly to the bedroom she shared with her sister.
"Prim?" she whispered, not sure if her she was still awake or not.
"Hey," she heard the weak response and, even in the dim corridor light, Katniss could see the flushed cheeks, indicating her sister was feverish. She sat at the edge of the bed and ran her hands through her sisters damp, blond hair.
"I've got some ibuprofen. You'll feel better now."
Prim smiled as she opened bottle and swallowed two of the pills. "That's awesome, thanks. Maybe I won't have to miss school tomorrow."
"You stay home until you feel better," Katniss said firmly. Even though they were only three years apart, Katniss was like a mother to Prim. She was more mother to her than even their own mother and often, Prim did what Katniss asked much more quickly than she did what Mrs. Everdeen asked.
"I have a test, though," Prim protested as she settled back into her bedsheets.
"You can make it up," Katniss smoothed out her hair. "I'll cook something to eat, okay?"
"Okay," Prim nodded, sliding deeper under the covers until only the top of her head was visible. Katniss smoothed out the duvet before making her way to the kitchen. She searched the cupboards and, though somewhat bare, did manage to find a box of bouillon cubes. She smiled happily when she also found a bit of chicken in the freezer and a bag of frozen mixed vegetables.
"Chicken soup!" she said victoriously as she set about to defrost the chicken. How many times had she had to take care of her sister, because her mother was working or locked in her room, lost in memories of her husband, who died when Katniss was only eleven and Prim was eight? Even after almost ten years, Mrs. Everdeen still fell into bouts of depression in which she locked herself away for days on end, leaving Prim and Katniss to their own resources.
"You have a little extra for me?" Johanna said as she pulled the pots out to help Katniss.
"Nah, I never have any extra for you," teased Katniss as Johanna gave her a playful push before putting oil in the soup pan.
At least Katniss had graduated from high school and gotten a job waitressing at an all-night diner, but the work was miserable and the pay was lousy. She still had to resort, like today, to shop-lifting, to round out their needs. Between their mother's sporadic work and Katniss' miserly tips and pay, they weren't always able to make ends meet.
Prim was her priority - had been since her father died. She was such a good student and wanted to go to college. Katniss didn't know how they were going to do it - probably through grants and loans - but she was determined that her sister get the hell out of this piss-hole they lived in, and the only way she was going to do it was to get herself an education. Katniss could worry about paying for it later on.
"Johanna, don't you get tired of everything?" Katniss asked as she poured the ingredients into the pot and set everything to simmer.
Johanna shrugged. She was a year older than Katniss and her mother was a raving alcoholic. She spent more time with Katniss and her family than she did with her own on the other side of the tenement complex and Katniss had even managed to get her hired washing dishes at the diner.
"Fuck, yeah! Every day. You know, I left to work this morning and found Old Chaffe sleeping under the mailboxes. I thought he was dead. Stunk up the whole freaking hallway. I told him, 'Hey, asshole, where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead!' And he said he fell asleep on the A line, which ends almost at the border of District 13. Can you believe the shit? He ended up over fifty miles away and couldn't figure out a way to get back until yesterday. What an asshole."
Katniss chuckled, thinking of their resident hobo, thankful that he hadn't gotten jumped or fallen under a bus.
"But what pissed me off was, man, if I was like Chaffe and didn't have anybody, I'd stay my ass out there. What the hell does he have here to come running back to? District 13 is actually nice."
Katniss shook her head. "You know how long somebody like Chaffe would last out there, in the middle of the woods, with all those well-to-do folks ignoring him? He'd be dead in a week." She furrowed her brow, her tell-tale scowl beginning to form. "It doesn't do any good to run away. When you're stuck, you're stuck. Chaffe's stuck. I'm stuck." She looked up at Johanna, who listened to her as she wiped down the counter. This was not a new conversation between them. "But Prim's not stuck. She's going to go to school and be somebody and get the hell out of here. She'll do it for the both of us."
Johanna nodded her head, her eyes flitting towards the room where the sick girl lay resting in bed. "Somebody better do it. Might as well be her. Just don't forget us when you hit the big time," She moved into the living room and turned on the T.V. "At least somebody's got cable this month. They turned ours off yesterday."
"Yeah, I know how that is," Katniss said quietly. She argued monthly with either the cable company, electric company or the water department. The whole idea of it made her suddenly bone-tired. She was only twenty but she felt like a fifty year-old. Sometimes, she thought if it wasn't for her mother and sister, she'd have disappeared into the woods or the countryside and never looked back. But she did have them and there was no sense in fantasizing about things that couldn't happen. So she sat down next to Johanna and kept her company while she watched the news, pushing all thoughts of a new life out of her head.
XXXXX
Prim got better and was able to go to school the next day, which made her incredibly happy. Katniss' little sister had always loved school and luckily, she hadn't lost that quality as a highschooler. Katniss' mom came back from working the night shift, drank some of the broth from the soup Katniss had made and gone straight to bed. In some ways, Katniss was comforted by the routine, even if she sometimes felt stifled by her life.
She thought about her father, as she often did - a kind man who loved music. He worked as a janitor, ironically, in the very high school where both Katniss and now Prim, attended. However, by the time Katniss made it to high school, her father had been long gone.
She thought about him whenever she felt despondent and today, Katniss was more despondent than usual. Her father sang everyday and she missed the sound of his voice the most, a timbre that was so pure and sweet, even the birds fell silent and listened. He often took her to the free concerts in the park and told her the stories of the performances they listened to. Wagner, Mozart, Vivaldi, Gershwin - these were familiar names to her and their music danced in her head. But her father didn't discriminate - he took her to see rock concerts, country music, blues and jazz bands - if it was musical and free, they were there. And Katniss missed that very much.
As she trudged her way to work, she took in the decrepit city blocks that surrounded her, thinking of the books she read in school about nice houses and streets lined with trees, entire communities sitting at the edge of a forest. It seemed like a nice fantasy and was nothing like the broken-glass strewn sidewalks and graffiti-covered buildings in her tenement.
She thought back to the young man who'd helped her out of the pinch and the way he was dressed and Katniss was sure, absolutely positive that he was the kind of boy who lived in a neighborhood like that. Katniss felt herself flush involuntarily at the thought of him - tall, but not too tall, strong, defined arms and clean, so clean he seemed to sparkle. Even his hair, so blond and curly, appeared to gleam
Katniss chuckled to herself. She hadn't seen that side of a man since she broke up with Gale Hawthorne and that had been more than a year before. He was a mechanic and did pretty well for himself. The idea of marrying someone who actually made enough money to take care of her and her family was awfully tempting. But even though she was a hard girl on the outside, she was a romantic at heart and knew she couldn't stay with someone just because of a paycheck, no matter how needy she was. It was reckless of her - any other girl would have accepted Gale's proposal. But Katniss, in a fit of what she knew was idiocy, could not bring herself to do it.
As much as she resented her mother, Mrs. Everdeen had married for love. It was the only thing Katniss could really admire of her mother. And if Katniss got around to doing it, she decided she would also marry for the same reason.
That thought somehow made her feel better and she suddenly had a desire to be closer to her father. Katniss decided, with the tips she earned today, to put a little gas in the rusty tank of the Old Goat, the scooter Gale had refurbished and given to her as a gift, and go out to the park to listen to some music. It would bring back her dad, his songs and the days when she had been young and worry-free and full of hope for the future.
XXXXX
Katniss heard before she saw the open air concert in the park as she drew near with her scooter. Locking up the Old Goat against the giant oak tree that grew tall over the spot she had shared so many times with her father, she clambered up one of the rugged rocks that overlooked the concert site. She had a balcony-seat view of the event, the tree's thick branches weighed down with dense foliage, making her invisible to the audience below. She pulled out a Capri-Sun and a bag of dollar-salted peanuts from her pocket, reclining as the orchestra warmed up. Cast on the ground was the performance sheaf, which read, in large, bold letters, The New York Philharmonic Orchestra presents Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade, Op. 35. Katniss could not remember why, but the name seemed somewhat familiar. However, the thought was soon lost in the lonely opening chords of the solo violin whose mournful tune wrapped it's notes around her heart.
As the music lulled the normally cacophonous noise of the city to magical rest, Katniss cast her glance down into the audience of the well-heeled, who had scored, by invitation or connection, the garden chairs set up directly before the orchestra. Only the very privileged sat in those chairs, leaving normal concert-goers to their picnic blankets and beach chairs. She chuckled to herself when she recalled her father telling her that only the truly destitute or desperate were reduced to clambering up jagged rock-faces to overlook the concert, gaining them perhaps the best seats of all.
As the second movement began, Katniss eyes landed on a set of blue eyes gazing boldly at her. She was taken aback, certain that her perch on the rock was concealed from the audience. Normally she could care less and would have simply scampered into the branches of the tree if necessary to hide but it was none other than the boy with the bread-name. His face captivated her and made her body forget its natural instincts to flee, instincts that had been honed by a lifetime of struggling. As the solo violin floated through the air, Katniss was no longer on the rock. The boy's blue eyes became the deep water of an oasis, the sky overhead almost gone white with the sun's relentless heat. And yet the water was cool beneath the shade of the thick palm leaves. Katniss felt a profound feeling of rest, solidity and safety.
Realizing that she'd been fixated on the boy, he returned her stare unabashedly. This shook Katniss, who finally did scoot back into the branches. The boy turned his head back to the orchestra, leaving her to wonder if she'd imagined the entire exchange. She considered just ditching the rest of the concert but realized she really wasn't breaking any laws - no one could forbid a concert-goer from climbing the tops of the large rocks surrounding the naturally-shaped amphitheater if they were so inclined to do so.
She was lulled back into the mystifying music, the feeling of being lost in a magnificent desert returning to her, warming her evening-chilled skin until she chanced to look back down at the audience and saw the seat where the young man was sitting was now empty. Next to the place he vacated was an older woman who seemed to search the crowd, grey hair falling like an uninterrupted curtain of steel down her head and landing abrasively against the shawl draped over her shoulders.
Katniss turned away, a vague sense of disappointment stealing over her when the boy did not return to his seat, even as the music transported her again. It was a lovely daydream, this oasis and the boy with the water-blue eyes. She suddenly remembered who Scheherazade was - the princess who had been taken by a Sultan, one who bedded his brides and then killed them the next morning. She had shrewdly kept herself alive by spinning tales of wonder and magnificence, leaving him with a cliffhanger every night. This forced the young Sultan to keep her alive so that he could hear how the tales resolved themselves. She did this for one thousand and one nights, hence the name 1001 Arabian Nights. The Sultan realized he had come to love the girl and could not bring himself to kill her, thus ending her stories and his murderous rampage.
As Katniss' mind swirled with her music-drenched daydreams, a shuffling sound behind her caught her attention. Looking up in panic, she saw that it was none other than the young man who'd been sitting in the audience. Surveying her surroundings carefully, Katniss realized she was somewhat blocked from escape, the place where she'd climbed onto the rock effectively rendered out of reach by the new arrival. She realized with some dismay and without the distraction of fear, that his eyes were even more incredible up close. He swiped unconsciously at the curls that fell over his forehead, standing shyly before breaking into a smile.
"Peeta?" she asked in astonishment.
"You remember me, Secret Agent!" he chuckled, his eyes doing that brilliant twinkling thing she thought only characters in novels did. "I didn't mean to scare you. Honestly. I just think you probably have a better view up here than I do."
Katniss' eyes narrowed as he awkwardly waited for her permission to sit, which she gave with a tight nod of her head. Her heart flipped in her chest, not from fear but from the novelty of being this close to someone who was so well-maintained. His crisp grey-blue jeans looked like they'd never been worn before, his button-down light blue shirt remarkably unlined, except for the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He wore a dark blue vest and tie, as befitted the occasion but his Converses kept him from appearing too overdressed. Katniss grimaced involuntarily when he scraped the side of his too new sneakers against the rock as he settled down next to her. She purposely chose not to glance down at her grubby mid-drift baring tank top and torn jeans.
Unthinkingly, Katniss blurted out, "But your seat is right in front of the orchestra!" She almost kicked herself, realizing she'd given away the fact that she had been paying attention when he stared up at her.
The young man smiled, perhaps realizing the same thing. He cocked his head to the side in expectation. "So, what's your real name?" he asked, the sound of his voice warm against the backdrop of the dance of instruments below.
"Katniss."
He held out his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Katniss." She took his hand, still wary but thinking, if nothing else, that he had the finest forearms she'd ever seen on a person close-up.
Her thoughts were in a tumult of confusion. She didn't know this boy from Adam. She knew she should bolt, now that he was sitting down. She could make off without him stopping her, for she was agile and swift, having had to run away from so many things. Yet her instincts told her not to be afraid. There weren't many things she could count on but Katniss could always count on her instincts.
He looked around appreciately. "This really is a great spot. The music sounds better up here."
Several minutes passed before Katniss responded unexpectedly."That's because you're right above the middle point of the ellipse," she said, pointing at the shape of the open air theater. "My father told me that the designers of the open air theater had chosen this spot because it is a natural ellipse, so sound projects well. Sitting from the mid point and beyond creates a sound effect that you don't get sitting in front of the orchestra." She wanted to say that ironically, people who paid so much to be close to the orchestra in an outdoor theater were completely ignorant of their acoustic disadvantage but she didn't want to insult Peeta, having only just met him.
"Like the Greek amphitheaters," Peeta demurred and suddenly, Katniss felt somewhat idiotic. Of course a boy whose parents could afford such seats would also be able to afford an excellent education. He didn't have to collect bits of knowledge the way she had been forced to do all her life - a movie here, a magazine article there, the occasional calm of reading an entire novel. Peeta's entire demeanor screamed private schools and tutors - lots of money spent making him polished and intelligent and handsome well beyond average. She lapsed into an annoyed silence, trying to recapture the magic of the music and irritated by her thoughts. She chanced a glance down into the audience and now the silver-haired woman was standing, clearly in search of Peeta.
"I think your mom's looking for you," Katniss said.
Peeta shook his head, his full lips tightening almost imperceptibly. "She's not my mother. She's my father's assistant but she practically lives with us." He ran his hand through his curly gold hair and Katniss was suddenly distracted by the movement.
Clearing her throat, she turned back to the woman now making her way up through the aisle, much to the chagrin of the other audience members.
"Is it her job to keep track of you?" Katniss asked.
"She's made it her job to keep track of me," he said, watching with a bemused expression as the woman circled around the crowds of people.
"What are you, a prince or something? You have body guards, too?" Katniss quipped.
"If Coin had her way, I'd never be allowed out in public." He turned towards her, seeming to laugh at a private joke but shifted his attention back to the crowd before Katniss could be sure. "I don't always get to do what I want. It's pretty suffocating. How about you? Are you a princess? Did you escape your palace for a little freedom?"
Katniss chuckled despite herself, surprised at the ease with which she was able to speak to him. "I've got more freedom than I can handle. No, I'm no princess at all. I'm more like one of the mice that got turned into a footman in a fairy tale, you know?"
"No way," Peeta said quietly, appraising her. "I don't believe that for a minute."
"Well, believe it. I wouldn't be sitting on this rock otherwise."
They lapsed into a companionable silence as the performance transitioned into the third movement. Katniss was somewhat sad for the change, for she had decided the second was definitely her favorite one.
"I love music," Peeta said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. "I love live music in particular. What I don't like is having to dress up and act all stiff when music is about movement, you know? You just have to sit, glued to a chair for two hours and you can't even whisper to anybody because a bunch of old, stuffy farts shush you and make you feel like a criminal."
Katniss was taken aback by his observation. "You mean, how people dress up to go to the Panem Center to listen to Figaro?"
"Yeah."
"I've never been to a concert like that," she stared out into the audience, watching the orchestra move through the music. "Most of my experiences come from sitting on this rock every summer to listen to whatever show they put on." She wanted to say it was her father who brought her up here and talked her through each of the operas and performances; that up until now, she'd never shared that with anyone else. But she opted to keep that bit of information to herself.
"It might be strange for you to listen to music in a concert hall, then. It's really different," he said and she felt his eyes on her, though she kept her vision fixed on the solo violin that was now playing.
"Maybe one day," Katniss said noncommittally. "You're lucky to have the chance whenever you want to."
"Well, outside of that and my art lessons, I'm usually bored out of my mind." he responded and she couldn't help but feel a stab of pity until she realized that she'd rather be bored than hungry.
Katniss scanned the crowds, squinting out into the lamp-lit group of picnic blankets near the stream that divided the park in several small islets. "I think your warden found you."
Indeed, the woman Peeta had referred to as Coin strode purposefully across the green, her eyes fixed on where they sat. Peeta let out a frustrated burst of air and a barely audible "fuck" under his breath. There was something about her that Katniss deeply distrusted, a visceral rejection that came from the very pit of her stomach. Recognizing in Peeta that feeling of oppression that often drove her out into the night on her scooter, looking for relief from all the things she could not control, she was seized with a reckless impulse.
"Hey, my scooter's parked under this rock. I bet if we hustled, we could make a quick getaway,"
Peeta's eyes brightened and for some reason Katniss could not understand, his expression made her happy. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Just spot me for some gas and I'll give you a ride home or something," she said, unable even in circumstances like this to behave impractically. "Deal?"
Peeta agreed and with that, they scrambled down the rock. Giving Peeta her helmet, she instructed him on how to hold on before starting up the Old Goat. Coin was not twenty feet away when she accelerated. Katniss glanced in the rearview mirror to see the older woman stop and stare after her, an expression on her face that chilled Katniss to her bones.
Shaking it off, she tossed over her shoulder at Peeta. "Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere!" he screamed gleefully. "Anywhere I've never been!'
Katniss raced out onto Columbus Circle, slowing down at the red light and half-turning in her seat. "How the hell do I know where you've never been?"
Peeta stared down, adjusting the strap of his helmet as he responded, "Trust me when I tell you I've been everywhere and no where. I promise I'll pay for your gas but just get me as far away from here as possible."
"Well, sir, your wish is my command," Katniss said, shaking her head at the strangeness of this night.
XXXXX
They ended up flying across the Verrazano bridge, the wind of the river whipping at them as the buttresses of the steel structure zoomed by overhead. Every now and again, Katniss could catch the sound of Peeta's laughter whenever the wind changed directions, a sound that brought warmth to her belly and spread throughout her chest to the tips of her fingers and toes. She'd been over this bridge before but it was like she was seeing the city for the first time. The lights of office and apartments gleamed like diamonds suspended against an endless sky. The water was a murky pool of darkness just beneath the wheels of the Old Goat but she heard the swishing of it's movement strike against the whoosh of air as they approached the end of the bridge.
She had braided her hair tightly that evening and was grateful that she had, for the wind would have reduced her hair to a snarly mess had it been loose. Despite the bright city lights around them overrunning the night, some brighter stars were still visible over the horizon where the ocean peeked between mainland and the island where Panem City was located.
They stopped at Liberty Island, the park still open despite the hour of the night. Katniss rode her scooter right up to the edge of the water, the long dock leading out to the moored ferries bobbing gently in the tide.
"We come here to see the Fourth of July fireworks. My sister loves them and if mom isn't working, she'll come with us too."
"What does your mom do?" Peeta asked while casting a small piece of concrete from the edge of the pavement into the lapping waves.
"Home health aid." Katniss didn't want to tell them that they made next to nothing and that her mother worked as many hours as her depression allowed, meaning they were dependent on the government and anything Katniss and Johanna could shoplift. Somehow, she wanted to impress this very intelligent, if somewhat naive boy and stories of her poverty didn't seem to be the way to do it.
"How about your dad?" he asked, flinging another rock, the wind whipping his curls into a frenzy of gold as each hair seemed to capture the beams from the quarter moon. Katniss repressed a powerful urge to touch his hair and confirm whether they were real or slivers of light from the sky.
"Dad?" She sobered quickly. "He died when I was eleven," Katniss picked up a larger rock and flung it in a powerful parabola into the churning river. "It's just my sister, my mother and me."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, turning towards her, his eyes no longer twinkling but wide and luminous in their smoky darkness as the pupils swallowed the blue.
Katniss felt herself sway under the intensity of his gaze, her entire body leaning towards him as if he were a magnet. She stiffened and turned toward the water, casting another stone. "It's okay. We get by."
She felt the pressure of his hand on her elbow as he gently turned her towards him. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."
Katniss felt her skin flush with embarrassment. "It's nothing. I just gave you a ride."
He shook his head, his hand still on her elbow, robbing her of the ability to think. "No, not just a ride. You gave me a taste of freedom. You don't know the gift you have."
"Gift? Of freedom?" asked Katniss sardonically. "Freedom to scrape by? Freedom from ducking and hiding from cops?"
"How about freedom from people telling you what to do all the time?" he retorted in frustration. "What to study, which friends to have, what clothes to wear...I wish I knew what it was like to be free to make my own choices," he said distractedly. "Sometimes, I feel just so…"
"Trapped?" supplied Katniss quietly, as he clasped her other elbow in his hand and pulled her towards him.
"Trapped," he repeated, looking at her, practically begging for her understanding. Katniss felt the air lodge firmly in her lungs as she lost the ability to breathe. She let her lids fall half closed as his lips brushed hers sweetly, then more firmly, moving over her but never intruding. He was as gentle in his kiss as he was in his manner and it was this feather-like touch in the middle of a life of harsh blows and jagged edges that made Katniss' knees buckle.
They were interrupted by a car honking behind them, followed by an abrasive voice.
"Hey, lovebirds! The park's closing soon. You better get on home," shouted a man from a rusty Cadillac coup that might have once been beige and had certainly seen better days.
"Alright, alright!" Katniss said in annoyance. "Don't get your panties in a knot!"
"Ten minutes, kids!" the burly man huffed as he made his way along the shoreline.
Peeta shrugged, pulling back and turning out towards the water, letting his arm rest lightly about Katniss' waist. They quietly contemplated the horizon - the faint, insistent, blinking lights of the city before turning away to confront their respective lives lying hidden in its tangled depths.
XXXXX
When Peeta settled in behind her on the scooter, Katniss still felt that swaying feeling, as if she would melt like butter against him. She became distractedly aware of his arms around her waist, his strong thighs flush and parallel to her own. It was all Katniss could do to focus as they pulled into the self-service station. The gas gurgled loudly as it fell into the small tank of the Old Goat and Katniss wondered briefly when was the last time the poor rusty creature had found itself with a full tank of gas.
Peeta stared at everything around him, hungrily taking in every sight as if trying to commit it all to memory. Katniss recognized that look, reminding her of the guys from her neighborhood when they were just released from prison. Life assaulted them all at once and they in turn wanted only to drown in it. It suddenly made Katniss sad that someone like Peeta, someone as gentle and sensitive as he was, should have to feel that way. Spontaneously, she left a kiss on his jaw, which shocked both of them into a momentary immobility. Katniss blushed furiously as she leapt onto the bike again and powered up the engine to take him home. She didn't think she imagined the way he clung to her a bit more tightly as they made their way over the bridge again.
XXXXX
Katniss slowed down when they reached the exclusive apartment building on the Upper East Side. It was a dream location, overlooking Central Park, half of a mile from the Panem City Museum of Art. Even at night, the buildings screamed exclusivity and privilege - hinting at apartments with large, soaring ceilings and spiral staircases built around cleverly designed spaces. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Roof-top gardens. Balconies far above the more civilized traffic on this part of town. Peeta lived here and it intimidated her more than anything she'd experienced to this point.
Peeta descended from the scooter, shaking out his curls when he removed the helmet. Katniss' attention was drawn by the brass handles of the double glass door that led to the large lobby of the place he called home. She couldn't help mentally comparing the bright lights and clean floors to the shabby carpets and worn furniture of her own home, the marble walls making the pock-marked drywall of her living room look even more horrible in her imagination.
"I had fun. Maybe we could do this again?"
Katniss looked miserably up at Peeta. He had too much of everything and she had too much of nothing. It embarrassed her to sit on the Old Goat in front of a place she could only afford to walk by. Katniss forced a smile on her face.
"It was fun," was all she was able to say before the doorman suddenly appeared, a cell phone attached to his ear.
"Yes sir, he's just arrived," the gentleman said into the phone. "I'll send him up right away. Yes, you're welcome sir." Putting his phone away in his pocket, the concierge stood in front of Peeta, giving Katniss his back. "Mr. Mellark, your parents were very worried about you. I've been instructed to take you upstairs straightaway."
Katniss felt her eyes go wide with shock. Mellark? As in The Mellark Corporation? No way...
"Worried? Flavius, I'm twenty-two years old! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Peeta groused, irritation darkening his features.
"Of course, sir. This way, please," insisted Flavius.
Katniss was still smarting from Flavius' snub and the realization that she'd spent the last few hours with the heir of the wealthiest corporate empire in the country. She watched Peeta try to turn back towards her when the silver-haired woman from the concert pushed her way through the glass door followed by several burly men. He really did have body guards! She cast a penetrating look in Katniss' direction, before addressing Peeta.
"We had the police out looking for you, Peeta," she said, indicating with her head that Flavius was dismissed.
"It was completely unnecessary," he said coolly before seeking her out. "Katniss! Don't leave yet!"
Katniss fired up the Old Goat, slowly pulling away from the curb. She heard him call out to her again but it was for the best that she didn't stop. As she picked up speed, she raced down the boulevard, passing ivy-covered brownstones and buildings like Peeta's, with brightly lit, classically decorated interiors, serious men guarding the doors. She could practically smell the money and affluence as she flew by.
The spell of the night was broken as soon as the buildings began to change. Katniss' bike was so much lighter now and she felt the chill of evening more keenly on her exposed mid-drift. It's for the best, she muttered to herself. He's way out of your league. Still, the streets seemed that much emptier, the noises of traffic more muted. She couldn't shake the disappointment, nor the way everything appeared to be just a little more dull than before.
XXXXX
Several days passed before the surreal memory of that night faded. During that time, Katniss functioned as if caught between two worlds, her mind lost in a haze of memory and illusion. She was irritable and had moments of spontaneous sadness that left her bewildered.
She found herself in one of those strange states of preoccupation while wiping down the counter at the diner, cleaning spilled coffee and the detritus of hamburgers, fries and ketchup. Her shift was almost over and she looked forward to the extra-large philly cheese steak and onions with fries that was waiting for her in one of three to-go containers she'd prepared for dinner. Old Man Cray was off for the night, and the cook, Thresh, always made dinner for whoever was on shift when the stingy manager was gone. He never said so to Katniss but he understood that she was struggling at home and always put a little extra into her containers. She, of course, noted his generosity but figured, as long as he never mentioned it, she could accept that charity without feeling like she owed him for it.
Johanna came up next to her, eyeing her own dinner longingly. "Don't leave without me. I'll be off in fifteen minutes."
"Okay." Katniss didn't even bother to invite her home - her best friend practically lived with her and came and went as she pleased. As Jo made her way back to the kitchen, the bell of the shop chimed and Katniss looked up to see two large men enter the shop. Concealed by their height was a third person, who Katniss could not see well. When they stepped aside, a woman with grey hair that fell like an uninterrupted curtain to her shoulders appeared from behind their girth. With a start, Katniss recognized the woman just as she opened her mouth to speak.
"Katniss Everdeen?" she asked politely.
Eyeing her warily, all the while wondering what she could possibly want with her, Katniss nodded. "Yes?"
"My name is Alma Coin. I believe you are an...acquaintance of Mr. Mellark?"
"We know each other," Katniss hedged carefully. The woman's appearance had inadvertently brought that night with Peeta back to her mind, a night she'd only just successfully managed to push to the back of her thoughts. Her stomach a gave sudden lurch that she had to quell with a press of her hand. "How, is he?"
"Fine, just fine," she said curtly. "I know you don't know me very well but I just need a few minutes of your time. Can we talk somewhere more...private?"
"Sure." Katniss indicated to a booth at the very end of the restaurant. "I'm still on my shift so I can't stay too long," she said, giving herself an out if she needed it.
Coin gave her a bemused look before responding, "Of course. This won't take very long. Gentlemen," she turned to what appeared to be her two very large companions, "I'll need a few minutes alone with Ms. Everdeen." They responded by taking seats at the diner while another waitress, Rue waited on them.
"I appreciate that your time is valuable, Ms. Everdeen," Coin began, and Katniss could not determine whether the older woman was making fun of her or not. Her blandly impassive face gave nothing away.
"How did you find me?" Katniss said abruptly.
"Your license plate, of course. I make it a point to get to know all of Mr. Mellark's contacts." Coin lifted her hands to place them delicately on the table top. "Now, I've also looked into your background and you appear to have a skill set I might be able to use."
"Excuse me, but my background? You don't have any right to snoop into my life!" Katniss hissed. This woman suddenly turned her stomach and she stood to leave the booth.
"Please, Ms. Everdeen, may I call you Katniss?" Coin asked in an effort to keep her from leaving. Katniss froze in place, her face expressionless. "Yes? Well, Katniss, I didn't look into anything that wasn't a matter of public record. I simply searched for information that would be useful to a potential employer." Katniss stared blankly at her, not quite understanding what she wanted to say. "A job, Katniss, and a well-paying one at that."
"You mean, you want me to work for you?" she asked, slowly returning to her seat.
Coin smiled again, removing a thick envelope from her jacket pocket. "If you agree, this would be the advance. It's a one-shot deal, after which I would not bother you again. Go ahead, look inside."
Katniss opened the envelope and felt the color drain from her face. It was cash; a thick stack of hundred dollar bills. She'd never seen that much money all at once. Despite her unease, she couldn't help but calculate all the things she could do with the money - pay bills, buy more groceries than their rusted refrigerator had ever seen, clothes for Prim, maybe set something aside for school books for Prim's community college next year - Katniss' mind raced with the possibilities.
"This is a lot of money," she said quietly.
Coin smiled and Katniss suddenly felt like a mouse trapped in a corner. "Yes, it is. And there's more of it, if you decide to take the job. Half now and half when you are done."
Katniss looked at the money, setting it down carefully on the counter as if it would dissolve in her hands. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
Coin leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Nothing you haven't done before. There's something I...require, and I would like you to retrieve it on my behalf."
"You want me to steal something for you?" Katniss asked. "I'm not exactly a cat burglar. I got caught one time, shoplifting some boots…"
"Three times, Katniss, you got caught three times. That means you've gotten away with it ten-fold. I don't need Catwoman to do this, I am in need of an individual who can go where I cannot. Unfortunately, I can't steal it or I would do it myself. I'm...too well known...in certain circles. But you would be completely innocuous. We'll dress you up…" Coin said this as she lifted Katniss' braid, studying her as a stylist would study their model. "You'll look like the sweetest young lady. You'll take the item that I want and bring it to me, after which I will give you the other half of your payment."
"How much? It has to be worth my while because if I get caught again, I'm over the age of 18. It won't be juvie anymore," Katniss watched the older woman, who seemed to anticipate the objection.
"Ten thousand dollars if you complete the job. If you get caught, your family gets to keep the advance. It should help them get through if something happens to you. I know how much they depend on you."
Katniss could feel the color rise to her face. "Was that part of your background check also?"
"I make it a point to know everything I can about my potential employees." Coin leaned forward again, dropping her voice. "However, if you do get caught and try to implicate me, my friends," she cocked her head over to the two burly men still nursing their coffees at the counter, "Will go pay your family a visit and collect the advance. And they won't be polite about it. I will be depending on your discretion but also your skill. I know you will try at all costs not to get caught."
Katniss shivered from the implications of her words as she stared at the envelope. Though she was debating with herself the merit of Coin's offer, she already knew what her answer would be...how could she decide otherwise? It was the devil's bargain but all she had to do was see Prim's face floating before her to make that decision.
"Yes. I'll do it."
"Good," Coin said and even after having gotten what she wanted, she appeared no warmer than before. "My assistants will bring everything you will need to your home." She handed Katniss a card. "We will meet at this location tomorrow at six o'clock. I have it on good authority that you are not scheduled to work." She seemed to look Katniss over. "Don't wear too much makeup - I can make any last minute touch-ups when you arrive." Coin stood, smoothing the wrinkles of her pants as Katniss considered what she had just agreed to.
"If I change my mind?" she asked suddenly.
"If you change your mind, my associates will be at your home to recover the advance. If you are feeling that uncertain, perhaps you shouldn't spend any of it until the job is done." Coin turned to the exit, her large companions already in place before the small entourage exited the diner, the tiny bell chiming in their wake.
"Who was that, K?" Johanna asked as she watched Coin and her two assistants drive off in a non-descript black sedan.
Katniss shook her head, unsure if Coin's visit was a break or a stroke of bad luck.
"Let's go home, Jo and I'll tell you all about it."
XXXXX
Katniss found the package, wrapped in brown butcher-paper on the doorstep of her apartment. She thought about the risk Coin had taken to leave anything unattended in this neighborhood when it occurred to Katniss that Coin's goons might be watching.
"Get inside, quick!" Katniss practically shoved Johanna into the apartment.
"Wha-?" she said, stumbling past the doorway as Katniss kicked the package inside.
"Shhhh!" Katniss shut the door behind her, leaning heavily on it. "They're probably watching!"
"Watching what? Don't be so paranoid!" clipped Johanna as she placed the package on the kitchen table.
"No! The bedroom! I don't want mom or Prim to ask questions." They dashed into Katniss' room, where she promptly closed the door behind them. "That lady knew everything about me, Jo."
"Whatever, I'll go with you tomorrow."
"You can't! I'm not supposed to tell anyone," Katniss felt her eyes go wide with a sudden stab of fear. Her instincts told her that Coin woman was capable of all kinds of mayhem. "I shouldn't have agreed to this."
"And turn down ten thousand dollars? You been smoking Old Chaffe's pipe, again?" Johanna leapt onto the bed and ripped the package open.
"That was one time and I was only 15!"
"You were so fucking stoned out your mind! You kept singing This Girl Is On Fire and flapping your wings like a drunk turkey…"
"Fuck you," Katniss said but chuckled nonetheless at the memory. As she pulled open the last of the paper, she took hold of a soft material that reminded her of ballerina dresses and frilly curtains. It was a soft pink dress that shimmered like candle light. Katniss held it against her - it fell directly below her knees and had two delicate shoulder straps. Inside the package was a knitted pink bolero jacket that fit perfectly with the dress.
Johanna whistled appreciatively. "That's a nice dress! And look, there are shoes and even underwear. That strange lady got you some underwear!"
"Earrings too!" Katniss exclaimed. "This is a whole lot of pink though. I'm gonna look like a kid in this dress."
"And if you're supposed to take something…"
"I can stash it here," Katniss said, holding up the last item from the package - a medium sized, bubblegum-colored purse. "Now I have a bag the color of Pepto too. My life is complete."
They laughed but Katniss suddenly lost her humor. Setting the things carefully in her closet so as not to rouse her sister's or mother's suspicions, Katniss sat down heavily on the bed. Johanna scooted next to her, bumping her on the shoulder.
"She wouldn't have come to me if I weren't a two-bit thief," Katniss looked over at her friend.
"We're survivors, K. That doesn't make you a bad person, if that's what's bugging you."
"No, but I just wish...I wish I wasn't always just surviving," Katniss said, eyeing the pink ballerina shoes peeking from the opening in her closet as if taunting her with their coyness.
"Well, maybe your luck's about to change. This could be your big break," Jo said. "But I'm too fucking hungry to be philosophical. Let's eat."
Katniss gave her a half-smile. "Sounds good," she answered but she couldn't help the feeling of dread that stole over her and she wondered suddenly just what kind of luck she really had.
XXXXX
Katniss appeared the next day at the address on the given card at exactly 5:50. It was a coffee shop in Southside, the avant-garde art district of Panem City. Unlike Museum Mile, which supported the Panem City Museum of Art, Southside was all about up and coming artists, digital designers and hip, interactive exhibits. Katniss usually felt less out of place in this part of town and could enjoy the gallery fronts and cafes much more than on the Mile, which practically screamed old money. Her ripped jeans and father's old leather jacket blended in better in this part of town, where poverty and a certain decrepitude was deemed a necessary rite of passage for young artists.
Except perhaps for today. She was dressed in an outfit that made her look like a Barbie doll, and not a very tall one either. She'd brushed her hair out - though she would have preferred her braids, and dispensed with the makeup altogether except for a lip gloss that made her olive skin glow. Katniss was dark, like her father, with coal-black hair and grey eyes that were large and luminous in her face. She was proud of her eyes, for their shape and their similarity to her father's, though she questioned the success of her look today.
"Yes, that will do," she heard Coin say. The black sedan materialized out of nowhere and was parked next to her in front of the cafe.
"The gallery is at the end of this block. Here is the object in question." She handed Katniss a picture of what appeared to be an old, dented brass lamp. It looked more like a trinket than a treasure. Catching Katniss' expression, Coin chuckled, "It doesn't look like much but it means a great deal to me. We will meet at the Ferry on 58th street at eight o'clock sharp. That should give you some time to work."
"I...this dress...doesn't it make me...stand out?" she asked, looking down at her bon-bon outfit.
"No, it's an exhibit opening. There will be many people in attendance and in semi-formal attire. You can use the distraction of the crowd to look for the lamp. You will not find it on the main display floor but in one of the artifact rooms. The owner has no clue what he has in his possession." Coin's lips curled into a smile that made her look like she'd just swallowed a canary. "Remember, 58th street Ferry at eight. You'll be going into that building there. Here is your exhibit pass. Try not to speak to anyone but if you do, you are an art student at Panem City University. They won't know that faculty there. And here," she took out what looked like a piece of folded pink material. "Gloves. Don't leave fingerprints and don't rub the lamp. It is very delicate. Best to put the lamp directly into the bag."
"Pink gloves." Katniss muttered. How predictable. She wondered if Coin collected plates decorated with cats and drank tea as she plotted her crimes, a thought that almost made Katniss burst out into laughter. Instead, she nodded at Coin and turned in the direction of the gallery, donning her gloves as she did so. She felt perfectly ridiculous. Katniss looked down at the swishing material and wondered if Prim could convert the material into something more practical.
Katniss arrived in front of the gallery, which looked like a dance club from the outside. It was part of a warehouse-sized building with spaces that had been converted into several studios. The largest studio, Cinna's Factory, was the one hosting the exhibit she was interested in. Entering the large, double-doors, she handed her exhibit pass to a tall, slender woman in silver and pink sequins, who scanned the her list for Katniss' name.
"I love your dress! Pink is all the rage this year," she said breathlessly. "Enjoy the show!"
Katniss smiled politely before facing the spectacle before her. The atmosphere was more subdued than it appeared from the outside - large, paintings hung on the walls, illuminated by strategic lighting that bathed the walls without being too sharp. People in various states of dress milled around with drinks and plates of hors d'oeuvres as they talked in small groups or stood alone to contemplate the art work.
Katniss was actually surprised by how much she enjoyed the displays as she made her way around the room. There were drawings of Sultans and princesses, camels and oasis hanging about, painted in deep, sharp colors with clear borders. It was a striking style and one picture in particular drew Katniss' attention. There was a beautiful, dark Arabic woman holding a lamp from which issued smoke partly resolved into the shape of a man. The Genie was imposing and powerful and yet it was clear that the woman in the picture had the power over him. She stared for a long time at the painting, captivated by the colors and lines.
"You like this painting?"
Katniss was startled by the voice of the speaker, a voice that was melodic and intimate, though he stood a discreet distance away from her.
"Er, em, yes, I do."
"A variation on the fairy tale Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp. Here, it is the princess who holds the genie in her thrall. My entire exhibit is a retelling of eastern fairy tales, how those retellings still leave the viewer with something fundamentally recognizable." The man who spoke was as gripping as the painting - he was beautiful, brown-skinned with short, dark curly hair and eyes whose color was somewhere between green and brown. Flecks of gold were painted onto his eyelids but otherwise, in his sensible black suit and black dress shirt, he looked nothing like the artistic types who floated around them.
"You're Cinna?" Katniss asked, somewhat starstruck though she knew nothing about art, studios or him.
"Yes," he smiled and gave a half-bow.
"It's a beautiful painting," Katniss said sincerely.
Cinna smiled at her, nodding his head. "Thank you. I get an earful of how my paintings are Warhol-esque or recall the blue and red phases of this or that artist. Rarely does someone tell me they like my art simply because it's beautiful to them," he took Katniss' gloved hand and kissed the tips of her finger lightly. "That is the best possible compliment and i'm grateful. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Katniss cradled one hand gently in her other one, as if it had been marked by a saint. She looked back at the girl in the swaths of powder blue, her long, dark hair hair and slanted, almond-shaped eyes staring down the genie.
She mentally shook herself. Don't forget why you're here. She glanced down at her pass and observed that there was a floor-plan of all the exhibit rooms in the studio. She traveled from one room to another, making her way through the crowds that moved like floating soap bubbles on the surface of a bath, each merging and separating in a continuous dance as the art served as a backdrop for their conversations. After nearly forty-five minutes of wandering farther and farther from the main milieu, Katniss finally entered a room that looked like no more than an office. The small display light illuminated the room in a soft glow and, without having to study each stand, Katniss saw the thing she was searching for. It was in a glass case and looked far smaller than it did in the photograph. A bent, dirty, ill-treated lamp resting precariously on crooked legs on a large, white stand that diminished it even further.
Katniss studied the case and saw that there was no wiring. Likely, it was just to keep more dust from settling on the artifact. There was a sign that said "Do not touch the objects in display case," which was ironic because it was exactly what she intended to do.
Lifting the glass, which she expected to be heavier, Katniss captured the narrow metal handle and in one deft move, slipped the lamp inside her large bag. Setting everything back into place, she turned to leave as she had entered when she suddenly heard a shuffling outside the door. Katniss froze in place. She was so close to completing her mission - she just needed to get out of that room. Looking around at the space, she noticed a small door to the back. On quiet feet, she tip-toed towards it and tested the knob. It appeared to be an exit to a back hallway. Just as she walked down the darkened corridor, she heard the angry shouts and knew her crime had been discovered too soon.
In the grip of a panic, Katniss broke into a run. She tested each door until she arrived at the one that had the red Exit sign over it. Pressing on the metal bar, she pushed it open and jumped when a siren went off. She had noticed too late the sign that said 'Emergency Exit Only,' and inadvertently set off the fire alarm. Without heed, Katniss raced down the alleyway, bursting out onto the street where she'd met Coin earlier. Even though it could not have been possible, she felt all eyes on her, as if everyone knew what she'd done. She ran North on the boulevard, hoping to be able to slip down into the Southside Station and take the train to 58th Street when she heard a loud honking behind her.
"Hey, brainless, hop on!"
Katniss was never so relieved to see either Johanna or the Old Goat like she was at that moment. Glancing behind her, she saw a crowd of people emptying onto the sidewalk in front of Cinna's Factory. Most likely, they were reacting to the fire alarm by exiting the building. Katniss felt a pang of guilt for having committed a crime against a person as lovely as Cinna. She remembered his good manners, the pleasure of knowing how much she loved his art and the sound of his kind voice. She almost choked with the shame of it and wondered yet again what kind of luck this lamp would bring her. Leaning against Johanna, she silently prayed that the scooter would fly far away from the scene to a place where no one would find them again.
XXXXX
Johanna parked under one of the large underpasses near Riverside Park. Just beyond the World War II monument, the river churned impatiently under the gleaming light of the spring moon. They both dismounted, surveying the area to make sure they were alone.
"We should be okay here," Johanna said as they crouched down in the tunnel. "Let me see it!"
"See what? It's an old lamp. Shit, can you believe I could have ended up in jail over a dirty antique?" Katniss groused but she was curious also. Reaching into the bag, she held the lamp in the dim light of the moon. "I told you it was a ratty old lamp. And it's even filthy!" she said, trying to rub a smudge along its dented side.
"It's sure is ugly as fuck…" but the words died on Johanna's lips as a bulbous smoke streamed from the spout, the lamp shaking and glowing in Katniss' hands. She almost dropped the thing in shock when the smoke resolved itself into a man, somewhat middle aged, with black, shoulder length hair and grey eyes, not unlike Katniss'. He held a flask in his hand and wore a simple untucked white linen shirt and loose fitting linen pants that had probably been pressed sometime during the age of the dinosaurs.
"Who are you calling 'ugly as fuck'? You're not exactly a supermodel yourself, kid," he drawled. Both Katniss and Johanna stared at him in open-mouthed wonder as he stretched dramatically. "Ah, ten-thousand years will give you a fierce backache. Well, I get out every now and then but I've spent most of them cooped up in that thing," he jabbed his finger in the direction of the lamp in Katniss' hand.
"Who the fuck are you?" exclaimed Johanna when she'd recovered from the initial shock.
"Well, aren't you a regular Shakespeare?" Turning his attention towards Katniss, he bowed deeply. "My name is Haymitch and I am a genie. According to the rules of genie-land, or whatever, you are my master." He straightened up, studying Katniss with a hand on his jaw. "You're younger than usual. What, are you twelve or something?"
"We're both over twenty!" Johanna answered, glaring at the gruff genie.
"I stand corrected. Master looks like she's twelve. You..." He indicated towards Johanna. "...could use a make-over. Too bad you can't wish for one."
"What the…?" Johanna made to get to her feet but Katniss stopped her.
"Master?" Katniss said slowly.
"Well, the girl can talk! Congratulations! Yes, you are my master and I am here for your wish-fulfillment."
"Wishes?" Katniss repeated.
"Are you a girl or a parrot?" he snapped his fingers in her face. "Get with the program! Yes, you get three wishes. I suggest you think long and hard about them, because that's all you get. You have no idea the kind of power you have here."
"So she can ask for anything she wants?" Johanna interjected, at which Haymitch glared at her.
"Yeah, sidekick. With a few exceptions. I can't kill anybody, so don't even ask. I can't bring back the dead - trust me, I did it one time and it almost turned into a zombie invasion," Katniss' eyes went wide at the thought of it, "Not pretty. You can't ask for more wishes and I can't make anyone fall in love. Everything else is fair game."
"Look at the shape of him," Johanna said, jabbing her thumb in his direction. "Some all-powerful genie he is, K. I bet he can't even get us back home." She laughed derisively, shaking her head.
"You know what? You'd make a really good jackass. I haven't sat on one of those since the time of Jesus." Haymitch raised his hand, which began to glow with a soft, gold light.
"Genie!" exclaimed Katniss. "I did not wish for that!"
Haymitch scowled, eyeing Johanna with irritation. "She challenged me and I don't appreciate being challenged." He waved his hands and suddenly, they were in Katniss' living room.
"Shut you up, didn't I?" he spat at Johanna.
"Yeah, but you forgot the scooter." she said smugly, crossing her arms.
Haymitch's lips curled into a smirk as he snapped his fingers. In the corner of the room appeared the Old Goat, much to Katniss' relief. No amount of money or magic could replace her trusted scooter.
"You're down two wishes now, so make the last one count," Haymitch said.
"No I'm not!" protested Katniss. "That was Johanna. She's not your master."
Haymitch practically turned purple, becoming flustered. "You think you're clever, don't you? You won't be tricking me out of any more wishes."
"Yeah, well, you sure showed me, didn't you," said Johanna, smiling to herself as she collapsed onto the sofa.
Haymitch eyed her as Katniss paced the living room, considering her situation.
"If it's true, then I get to ask for whatever I want," she said to herself, the enormity of the situation becoming apparent to her. "I don't even know where to start. Genie…"
"You could call me Haymitch, you know. I'm not going to go around calling you 'Master,' or sunshine over here 'Jackass.'"
"Haymitch," Katniss said firmly, cutting off Johanna's retort. "What would you wish for if you had three wishes?"
"Well, that's easy," he sat down exceedingly close to Johanna, making her grunt in disgust. Pulling out a flask, he took a long swig in self-satisfaction. "I'd ask for freedom."
"Freedom?" Katniss said with a pang, thinking of Peeta and the way he'd stared at the squalid gas station as if he were seeing a bejeweled palace for the first time. "Aren't you free?"
"It's part and parcel of the whole Genie-gig," said Haymitch, swinging his arm out and nearly knocking Johanna in the nose. "Sorry, kid. As I was saying, that's the trade-off. Infinite, cosmic power, teeny-tiny living space." Haymitch suppressed a burp, to which Johanna responded with a gagging sound.
"That's awful!" Katniss exclaimed, seeing Peeta in her mind being herded by his handlers, just because he'd behaved like a normal young man. Freedom to make my own choices.
"Yeah, it's 'Poof, how can I serve you. Poof, what is your wish?' All the power and no freedom - who needs that?" Haymitch took another swig of his flask. "At least I can drink as much as I want."
"What would free you?" Johanna asked, pulling the flask from his hand and taking a long draught from it. "Hey, this booze isn't half bad!"
"I have good taste, I'll have you know," he muttered. "My master would have to wish it. Guess how many times that happens?"
Katniss looked at him but it was Peeta she saw in her mind - his clear blue eyes and his longing to be his own person. She also saw Prim and her college paid for, her mother visiting a real doctor for her depression, Johanna, dressed, fed and not having to go home to a drunk mother who did nothing but insult her all day long. Katniss longed for everything to be right in the world and for freedom from the drudgery of her life.
"Okay, I'll use my last wish to free you," Katniss said quietly, understanding now why Coin wanted the lamp so badly. It gave the holder the power to rewrite her personal history and those of the people around her. It was heady power and Katniss hoped to choose wisely, for the benefit of those she cared for the most.
"You're serious?" Haymitch asked, his shock mirrored on Johanna's face.
"Yes! But you have to help me make some things happen. I've got my sister, see, she's the sweetest girl in the world and smarter than anyone I know and she deserves a chance to be happy. I don't want her to have to go around, shoplifting and working in a grimy diner like me just to get by. And then there's my mother - she's still not over my dad dying and maybe, if she had a good shrink, she might get back to normal. Johanna here's spent as much time as me being hungry and shit on by life." Katniss was almost pleading as she kept going through her list, "I'd like to see her in a better situation. And there's this boy…"
Haymitch raised his eyebrow. "I told you, I can't make people fall in love."
"I know, I know but it's not that. Not really. He just wants his parents to lighten up on him. And yeah, I like him and he might give me the time of day if I was somebody. But I might be able to help him if I had a little more, you know, just more…"
"So what are you asking for, sweetheart?"
Katniss spread her hands. "Just, make me rich. At least as rich as the Mellark's. I'll figure it out from there."
"Well, master, your wish is my command."
Haymitch's hands lit up, golden orange globes of energy growing until Katniss' vision was blinded by the light. When she could see again, she looked around in expectation and found…
"Everything's the same!" she huffed in frustration.
"Well, what did you expect, Sweetheart? You asked for wealth. Wealth is only visible when you buy stuff with it. Look in your bag."
"Katniss, this guy is full of it." Johanna jumped off the sofa. "We need to get out of here. The minute Coin figures out you're not going to meet her with that lamp, she'll be heading straight here. And I, for one, am not in the mood to talk to her goons."
"No, Jo, he's actually right! I've got check books and credit cards and holy shit, cash!" Katniss looked up, beaming. "We've got cash - tons of it!"
"Well, grab your stuff and pick up your mom and Prim and let's get out of here."
"But where do we go?" Katniss asked.
"Use your imagination," Haymitch said, flipping through the cable channels.
Johanna's eyes lit up. "I have an idea!"
"Oh, I'm breathless with expectation," Haymitch mocked before dissipating and slipping back inside the lamp.
XXXXX
A fleet of people helped me with this fic including the entire EverlarkianArchivesChat group for their consistent support. What a great group of people! I have to give special thanks to Everybirdfellsilent, Peetasallhehasleft, Abbythebear, Katnissdoesnotfollowback, Peetabreadgirl, Dyce and the lovely Jamiesommers23, all of whom either organized this challenge, encouraged, supported, prodded, pre-read, pestered, edited or betaed this fic into existence :). Also a heartfelt thanks to Ombradellaluna, for the beautiful artwork and her generosity towards everyone in the EverlarkianArchives' group. Just a really sweet girl and brilliant artist 3.