The new generational divide would be marked by those who had felt the terror of a clown reading a piece of paper and those who would never know that fear. Those who had spent their childhoods watching children murder one another in a 'game' and those who would only have their imagination to color their nightmares.
The moments after the announcement might best be described as jubilation. There had been a pause at first, waiting until the blue man finished. The thought crossed my mind that maybe they had devised an even worse game to play. But when Caesar reiterated that this was 'the start of a new dawn of cooperation and peace between districts and the Capitol', the square erupted into cheers. Mothers cradled their children with streams of joy sprinkling their hair. My own mother's smile was as big and genuine as the ones from before Father died. Prim squeezed me as tight as she could. "We're free Katniss!" she half whispered, half sobbed into my ear.
Free. While I certainly shared my sister's enthusiasm at no longer having to face the annual threat that she could be dragged off like a lamb to slaughter, free was not a word that came to mind. We were still surrounded by a gateless fence, the train being the only official way in or out. The threat of starvation always loomed. Perhaps she too had begun to forget from the ease of these last few years of plenty. Then there were the mines. When school finished this summer, I'd be expected to join the mine crews. I watched Gale over the past not even two full years, starting to slump the same way our fathers had. It was enough to reaffirm my conviction that I wouldn't survive down there in that underground tomb.
Still I wouldn't begrudge her this moment, so I simply squeezed her back as a few tears of my own fell into her pale braid. As I looked out over her shoulder, Gale was looking at me. He may have been one of the only less than thrilled faces in the whole district. I recognize what's written on his brow. The same look prey has when they catch our scent, he thinks this is a trap. I release Prim into the open arms of our mother.
I rest a hand on top of his crossed arms in what I hope is a reassuring gesture. "Can you believe Posy will never have her name in a reaping bowl?" His features soften but quickly return to their previous state.
"Why would you trust that any of this is real? They could turn around tomorrow and announce that this was all some sick joke?" He practically spits the words out at me with enough condescending tone to make me remove my hand from his arm.
"They could, but then they may have a real rebellion on their hands." The last part comes out in a low whisper. Even here, surrounded by family and neighbors, with enough noise to drown out Buttercup's morning yowls, the words could still be dangerous.
"And would that be such a bad thing? Maybe then we could finally be free of them!" There was that word again.
"Gale, real or not real, I don't know. But I'm not going to argue about it during what is clearly a time of celebration! I'll see you Sunday." And with that I turned back to Prim and Mother, who were still hugging but also trying to pretend they hadn't been listening to the heated exchange.
I lead them to the edge of the crowd. Even with happiness exuding from MOST everyone in the square, I'm starting to feel closed in by so many people. As we make our way, Prim stops for several hugs. I get a few unexpected pats on the shoulder by several familiar faces from my trade route. Maybe they had been worried about losing their supply of fresh meat with how many slips I should have had this year. 22. I slightly shudder at the thought. I return a silent nod and smile to each of them, they seem to understand.
We are in front of the town center shops when Prim excitedly grabs my arm, "Oh, Katniss! Can we get cookies, oh, maybe a small cake instead? To celebrate!" I glance over at the bakery. It looks like we'd be one of the earliest ones to have the idea to grab a treat on the way home. Though certainly not the first ones, as a small line has already formed inside. The bakery would normally be closed at this time, but I can see 3 blonde baker heads busily manning the front.
"Ok, Little Duck." Normally this would be a luxury we could sorely afford this time of year, but I have a few coins on me thanks to the capitol supplies carrying us through the cold months. Mother stays outside chatting with some old friends, as animated as I've ever seen her.
When we reach the counter, the youngest Mellark jumps in front of his older brother to help us. "Hi, Katniss!" His smile beams as brightly as Prim's did when I said 'yes' to the treat.
"Hey, Peeta." I'm sure my smile doesn't light up the room the way his is threatening to. Peeta Mellark, we are in the same grade and have shared plenty of classes together but that's not why he stands out in my mind. When our family was at our darkest hour, he saved us. It was 6 years ago now, but I can still see everything as vividly as the day it happened. Still feel where the loaves had turned my skin bright pink from the heat when I scooped them up into my shirt.
About a year ago, I finally worked up the courage to try to thank him for that bread. We'd bumped into each other a few times in the halls at school, exchanged pleasantries. He had been the first to say 'hi'. Around when Gale went into the mines and I took over the town trades, Peeta took over the trading duty from his dad.
Having to stand just yards away from the very apple tree I had been slumped against, the Boy with the Bread in front of me as I haggled over a squirrel was becoming unbearable. Not that I needed to haggle, he'd seen how mad I got when he tried to offer me a full loaf of fresh bread for one of the season's scraggliest squirrels. The next time I came by he said he was a tough 'Baker Man' and could only offer me one roll. The twinkle in his blue eyes and barely suppressed grin told me otherwise.
One morning I'd been so distracted thinking about his stupid lopsided grin, while I owed him my life, that I missed three shots in a row. I left the woods empty handed but headed straight to the bakery anyway. He opened the door and started into his usual, "Miss Katniss Everdeen, and what do we have to trade this fine morning." But I held up my hand and he faded off mid-sentence.
"Katniss, is everything okay?" I can't look at him, he sounds so genuinely concerned about my well being and I'm suppose to be here thanking him. I realize I must look a bit wild. Fresh from a frustratingly fruitless few hours in the woods, I spare a quick glance up to catch the side of a leaf in my hair.
"Yes, no. Peeta I need to say something." I fumble over my words while I flick the leaf to the ground. I look up, he's looking at me so intently that I wish I hadn't. After a deep breath, I finally find my voice. "Peeta, I need to thank you, for the bread." I emphasize 'the bread', praying he understands I'm not referring to the bread he's been handing me over the past few months.
It seems to dawn on him, "You mean from when we were kids? Katniss you don't need to thank m…"
"I do, you….you don't understand." I feel my eyes betray me as they begin to water but I don't dare let a drop fall. "That bread, saved not just my life, but my sister's and mother's too. It wasn't just a couple of loaves to us. It gave us hope, hope that we really could go on. To survive. It's one of the reasons I started going into the woods." I trail off during the part about the woods, I don't really want to explain to him that I associate him with dandelions. "So, Thank you, Peeta." My eyes are back on my side and I manage to meet his gaze.
"Wow" he almost breathes out the word, like he'd been holding in a breath. "Well…you're welcome, Katniss." Then he gives me that lopsided grin.
"What can I do for you ladies this exciting evening?" Peeta booms and Prim can hardly contain herself beside me.
"It is such an exciting, amazing evening! We're free! And Katniss says we can get a cake to celebrate!" It was almost imperceptible, but I had caught it, when Peeta's eyes narrowed ever so slightly when Prim said 'free'.
"Well, good thing you came in when you did. Dad thinks we may sell out of the sweets within the hour. I think I've got just the perfect one." He skips, literally skips, down the display case and pulls out a sweet single tier about the length of my hand. It's dotted with delicate pink and yellow roses. "We're already low but if you don't like this one…"
"No, this one really is perfect Peeta." My answer must have been what he was hoping to hear because somehow his smile has gotten even bigger.
"That'll be 2 coin, Miss Everdeen." He's switched into his Baker Man voice, but I know two coin is about half of what a cake like this should go for. I start to scowl but it doesn't deter him one bit. "That's my final offer Miss Everdeen, you can try but you won't find a better price anywhere else in town." Prim's mouth is practically drooling already. Everyone's in such a good mood, I decide to allow Peeta his nonsense, just this once. Almost.
"Alright Baker Man, 2 coin and one squirrel it is." I hand him the 2 coins with a satisfied smirk of my own. We start to turn to head home.
"Katniss, Dad says we're going to be completely slammed by the rush of toastings after this announcement. So if you want to make good on that squirrel deal, you may need to come by around closing time because I'll probably be up to my elbows in icing for the foreseeable future." And grin.
I hadn't thought about toasting season moving up because of this. It makes sense since most couples wait until after their final reaping to toast, but with the threat of the reaping removed I can see the ones in a rush moving up the date. Peeta had told me last toasting season that it usually takes the bakery weeks of preparation to be ready for all the additional orders.
Prim is pulling me out the door by my sleeve, saying something about mother needing to see how lovely the cake is. So I just give him a wave while still wondering how many toastings there could be in the next month. Gale's words still lingering in the back of my mind as well, 'this could all be a sick joke'.
