7 – Pieces
Madge sipped on the straw and forced herself to swallow the foul liquid. Then she peered into the glass - almost two-thirds of the stuff to go. She thunked the glass down on her bedstand and fell back against her pillows, eyes shut. Maybe if she didn't look at the concoction it would vanish.
As expected, the sound drew the attention of her red-haired nurse, Irene, who had been opening the new white lace curtains. She may have come out of retirement to care for Madge, but her senses were still sharp.
"I'm trying my best to figure you out, young lady." Her nurse was nothing if not opinionated, whether Madge responded or not. "What I can't decide is if you're battling serious pain, if you're always this ill-tempered, or if is just my company that upsets you."
Something fragile in her voice made Madge open her eyes and frown. Could this talkative nurse be taking Madge's resentment personally? As annoying as her prattling was, she'd actually taken very good care of Madge. If it wasn't for the hideous drinks Irene kept forcing on Madge, they might actually get along.
Madge grabbed her pen and paper from the bed stand and started to write, then paused and bit her lip as she tried to decide why she was in such a bad mood - and what she wanted to share with Irene.
I'm sorry. Pain's not so bad lately. I just can't stand these disgusting drinks any more. Also I don't want to be here.
Irene sat down in the chair next to Madge's bed as she read the note, then frowned. "You don't want to be here as in this room? This house? District 2? Where do you want to be?"
Madge took the pad back from Irene and stared at it, not knowing what to write.
"I don't know. I hate the Capitol more than anything, but I can't get rid of the feeling . . . ." She paused. She didn't want Irene to think she was nuts. Then she took a deep breath and continued. She'd come this far. She might as well finish. "I keep feeling that they're going to find me, that we'll all be punished for trying to get away."
Irene sighed. "You've been terrorized for 5 years. That's going to take a while to get over. For now – what would you like to make District 2 better?"
Madge's first thought was that she wanted out of Gale Hawthorne's house. She hated having him see the wreck she'd become. There were no good alternatives though, not until she was healthier. As much as it hurt to admit it, even to herself, she felt safer here than anywhere else she could think of. However, part of the reason she'd agreed that his house was better than some hotel was because it was close to the Base. "I want to visit the Avoxes on the Base. I want something else to eat besides this awful stuff. And I need something to do. I'm bored to death."
Irene smiled. "Let's start with having some of your friends visit you here." After a moment of thought she went on. "Then let's see what's in the kitchen. Maybe we could make some soup? Do you think you're strong enough to help me with that?"
Madge nodded vigorously.
"I know a recipe for chicken and rice soup. I think you're ready for that."
Madge could almost taste it already.
Gale pulled the file he dreaded the most out of its place in the cabinet, then turned and placed it in the center of his desk. He took a deep breath before opening it. He wasn't sure he wanted to re-read Margaret Undersee's Capitol medical file. He'd tasted bile the first time he read this. Besides the cold description of the amputation of her tongue, the surgery and stitches she'd required told the tale of the abuse she'd suffered in the first 24 hours after she was taken from District 12. He couldn't read it again. He did wonder, again, where her father had been. If he'd been alive, how could he have let Madge be hurt like that? Where had he gone?
No. He didn't need to go there again. What he needed to go over was the mystery. He needed to see if he could find some clue he'd missed. He skipped to the second page and studied it – the note scrawled three quarters of the way down the second page – "Patient missing." It was in a different hand. It didn't seem to be a medical note, but there was no explanation. Nothing. The entry before had been made just 9 days after she was avoxed. Had she disappeared soon after that? There was no way to tell. The next page started afresh, without comment, dated nearly 6 months later, detailing 12 stitches in her right index finger. Apparently she wasn't missing any more. No clues were given to where she'd gone, how she'd been found, what had happened. Of course, this was just her medical file. Only part of the story.
If he wanted the rest of the story he could ask her, ask Madge. Would she answer? Could he make her revisit what had to be the most horrible days of her life? Except - he needed to know. This was his job. To figure out what had been done to Madge and all the other Avoxes, who was responsible, how should they be punished, how to make sure that the whole sick Avox thing was ended once and for all. It was bigger than him, bigger than Madge. He had to look past whatever relationship they had and find out the truth.
Not that they had any relationship at all.
He closed the file.
For now he had to get going or he'd be late to the Directors Meeting. Monzo was supposed to be getting in any moment now and Gale had been hoping they could compare notes before the meeting, but since there'd been no word from Monzo yet he'd just have to catch up with him later. He slipped Madge's file into his briefcase along with his notes for the meeting. Maybe he'd ask her about it tonight. He paused before turning off the light in his office, glancing back to make sure he'd gotten everything. As always, there was no sign that the office was occupied, save one pencil left centered on the desk.
All through the meeting his mind kept wandering from the other directors' reports back to what could he possibly say in his report. His lack of progress was pathetic. Monzo slipped into the only empty chair at the table just a few minutes into the update from the Director of State Housing. With a solemn shake of his head, he'd let Gale know that the trip to District 4 hadn't yielded anything useful.
Once again, Gale forced himself to listen to the Director speaking.
". . . direct to Capitol rail line from District 6 should be functional in two weeks. That line was the most severely damaged so the other existing lines should all be repaired with the next month or so. Once we've restored the old hub system out of 6, we can focus on the first of the new lines, starting with connections out of the major food producing districts: 4, 9, 10 and 11." Director Bevin was a typical cocky District 2 soldier, ex-soldier now, but he did seem to know a lot about all things transportation, which was – of course – important for the rebuilding effort. Gale just didn't see how it impacted his work on the Avox issue. "This should enable us to improve food availability. However, the best case scenario is that it will be 8 to 10 months before the first of these rail lines is ready to go. Until then we'll have to continue relying on hovercraft to transport directly from district to district, except for the larger items which are still more efficiently transported by rail into 6 and then back out to the appropriate district."
President Paylor was chewing on the end of her pen. She looked up and asked "How're the fuel supplies holding up for so many hovercraft trips?" It was amazing how many details she understood about the running of Panem. Apparently, the minutiae of supplying a rebellion transferred over well to repairing the broken country.
Bevin answered her. "We should be fine to get through the next six months, especially if we keep sending the heavier loads by rail. By the end of the year the District 8 refinery should be operational again and the supply won't be nearly so tight."
Something about Paylor's question was scratching at the corner of his mind. Was there something he should have put into his report about fuel supplies? No. That wasn't it. But fuel supplies were connected somehow. He frowned, then forced his eyes and his mind back to the meeting.
Every other director had serious progress to report. He was the only one who was stalled. Well, he and Monzo. Great. He could bury the bad news in his report, save face in front of the other directors, but he wouldn't. First, because Paylor deserved the truth and she'd dig it out of him anyway. Also, he had to remember that he wasn't here to try to look good. He wanted to clean things up, not cover them up.
Twenty minutes later, he'd delivered most of his grim report to Paylor. The only spot of good news was that after Dr. Janus had evaded arrest at his office, the back-up team Monzo'd sent to wait at his Capitol apartment had gotten him. However, the other two Capitol doctors who'd been most involved in Avoxing had disappeared into the wind, with some nurses also vanishing.
Meanwhile, the bias against Avoxes was pervasive, particularly among those who'd spent more time in the Capitol and District 2.
"As far as relocating the Avoxes we've liberated, only one has decided to return to her home district, and that was Acasta, who turned out to be Enobaria's sister. We haven't been able to locate any living family or friends for the others. We're going to pursue possible employment opportunities instead."
"What kind of industries are you pursuing for that?"
"Well, they've been significantly trained in food preparation and service. However, the only districts with a substantial number of restaurants are Districts 1 and 2, and, of course, District 14, but there're also where the prejudice against Avoxes is the most severe. Frankly, I don't think it'd be safe to relocate any to District 14 at this point."
Paylor looked around the table and addressed all of the Directors. "If any of you encounter potential employment possibilities for our Avoxes, please write them up for Director Hawthorne."
There was a snigger from the other end up the table, and Paylor's eyes darted back, silencing whatever that'd been. Gale studied the Directors sitting there. Tesla was busily making final notes before her presentation started, but Vetch and Bavin's faces were twitching as they seemed to be holding back laughs. Gale sighed. There was always so much of this when the subject of Avoxes came up. No one said much out loud, but there was this undercurrent of . . . assumptions, jokes, slurs.
Sometime during Tesla's explanation of the state of the Department of Utilities Gale remembered that he'd never gotten lunch. By the time the Director of Decontamination was finished Gale had a splitting headache. He glanced at his watch. Wow – how could only have been an hour and a half? It felt so much longer. When this was over he needed to meet with Monzo, go over whatever he'd found. Then he really should go through more of the medical files. It was going to be a long night.
"Thank you for your updates. If there's anything we need to cover before next week's meeting, call Damon to schedule a one-on-one." Paylor stood and they were finally done.
Monzo sauntered over as everyone headed for the door.
"So – District 4?" Gale asked.
"Nothing. Same as the Capitol. No one saw . . . "
"Rood, do you have a moment?" Paylor interrupted.
Monzo looked at Gale apologetically.
"I'll wait," Gale said. He stepped into the hall, leaned up against the wall and began to scroll through the messages on his communicuff. They were mostly about work, although one stood out. It was from Irene, Madge's, no . . . Maggie's nurse. She was wondering if she could leave early since her grandniece was arriving for a visit later in the evening. He called her back and told her that was no problem. He'd head home. Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow. If Monzo was half as tired as he was he wouldn't mind. Irene had mentioned that Maggie would need help with her dinner. That should be interesting.
Gale started to make another call, then stopped. There had been something in Irene's voice . . . something when she mentioned helping Maggie with dinner . . . like she was smiling to herself at a private joke. Or . . . maybe she was just excited to see her grandniece. Arlene and Irene didn't have much family left. That must have been it.
He looked back at his communicuff, at the 7 other messages. Four could definitely wait until tomorrow. The other three he should . . . .
"Hey, maybe Hawthorne can tell us?" Bevin was grinning at Vetch as they approached. Gale didn't want to know what they were talking about, but he knew he had to deal with them sooner or later.
"What's up?"
Vetch looked as puzzled as Gale felt, but Bevin leered. "We were wondering if you could tell us the secret to being Paylor's pet?"
"Excuse me?"
"All that talk about helping the Avoxes, but we hear she let you keep one."
It took a moment for Gale to register what Bevin meant. One what? Then it clicked and he sprang off the wall and rushed at Bevin, stopping when the jerk had backed up against the other side of the hall. At the last second something in his brain kicked in. Paylor would walk out of the conference room in any minute. He'd be a fool to get into a fight here, but he stood with his face only inches from Bevin's as he growled, "I think you were misinformed."
"You're not keeping a pretty one at your house? To cook for you, clean for you, do whatever for you?" Bevin smirked. Then Gale knew his instincts had been right. Bevin had backed up, but he wasn't dropping it because what he wanted was to provoke something, to try to get Gale to do something stupid in front of Paylor.
Gale stepped back, but never took his eyes off of Bevin. "One of the Avoxes is someone I know from 12, our mayor's daughter and Katniss's best friend. She . . . ," he paused and pulled the front of his shirt down, ". . . and her nurse are staying at my house until she's recovered from her injuries enough to move to the base. If I hear you say anything else ignorant or disrespectful about her . . . ," he paused again, adjusted his suit coat and flicked an imaginary piece of dust at Bevin, " . . . then you'll find out if I really do keep a viciously sharp hunting knife on me at all times."
The door open behind him and relief that he'd gotten better at curbing his temper slid through his still tense shoulders.
"Hey – what's up?" Monzo's voice made it clear that he'd picked up on the tension in the hall. Gale turned to face Monzo and Paylor. It went against his instincts to turn his back on Bevin, but the creep wouldn't do anything while Paylor was right there. Gale wanted to show him that he was insignificant.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's go."
As they rode the elevator down, Gale could tell that Monzo was also exhausted. So they decided to leave discussion of his trip and the stalled investigation until first thing tomorrow.
"How's Maggie doing?" Monzo asked.
"According to Irene, she's healing up, but apparently I'm still the enemy. I have no idea why."
"Did you ask her?"
Gale scoffed, "No." Monzo rolled his eyes, and he realized that he sounded a bit immature. He sighed. "I guess it couldn't hurt."
As they left the building, they exchanged brief nods before heading opposite directions. Gale's path took him just in front of the flower vendor who set up his cart there most afternoons.
"Flowers for your lady?" the vendor called to him with a grin.
Gale shook his head. Even if he had a lady he wasn't sure he could ever spend money on flowers. They couldn't be eaten. They were basically useless. He didn't have to worry about any of that though. He couldn't be further from having a lady.
Part of the reason that Bevin's snide comments made him so mad was that they were so far from the truth. Even now, even here, so far from District 12, Madge still looked at him as though he was nothing, just a boy from the Seam. She hated even being in the same room with him. He'd lied to Monzo. He knew why she hated him and he didn't want to give her the chance to explain it in thorough detail.
It didn't help that he'd thought that, maybe, finding her would help him find a bit of the home he'd lost. He smirked, laughing at himself. Maybe he had found some of District 12, the snobby side where a boy like him could never amount to anything. Part of his brain told him that he should remember that District 12 hadn't been such a great place after all. Part of him was still missing home, still longing for something.
If Bevin could only see how hostile their relationship was, then he'd know that this wasn't about exploiting a helpless girl. It was about repaying a debt. That was all.
Gale took a deep breath as he opened the door to the house he hated coming home to.
Today something was different.
The hallway was full of scents. There was the sharp bite of an ammonia solution – had someone been cleaning? Overpowering that was the smooth, warm aroma of roasted chicken. He licked his lips, his hunger immediately reappearing. What was going on?
He slipped quickly into the house, dropped his briefcase softly onto the floor and peeked carefully into the kitchen.
Madge was up on the counter. She was kneeling precariously there. She had a dishtowel in her hand and was wiping off one of the glasses he'd never used from one of the upper cabinets.
"What the . . . ."
His exclamation startled her. She dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor. He glanced down at it, and in that instant, Madge was down off of the counter, frozen on the floor, sitting with her hands grasped around her bent knees, her head lowered onto her thighs.
Was she really that afraid of him?
Maggie clutched tightly onto her own wrist, ignoring the stab of pain that reminded her that she wasn't fully healed. She'd spent so much time motionless in this position – listening to other Avoxes be brutalized or worse – waiting when she knew the pain would be hers. She tried to take deeper breaths, calm her racing heart, but she could feel its pulsing all the way down to her bare feet.
Why was she so careless? Why did she cause so many accidents? Break so many things? How angry would he be today? Who was on duty? What kind of discipline did they use? Why couldn't she remember?
She was still not healed. Her hand ached. It must have been shaky. That's why she'd dropped the glass. Her rations would be cut. Probably just one day. It hadn't been that nice of a glass, had it? Why were there glasses kept up there? That wasn't the usual cabinet for glasses. She couldn't remember. Her head was beginning to throb along with her heart.
She didn't hear a sound. Where was everyone? Who was here?
Then she felt a touch. Her hands were separated. Someone began signing into her hand. She was so surprised she didn't catch the sign. She almost looked up, then caught herself. She was in enough trouble already. She kept her head down.
SAFE. SAFE PLACE. SAFE PLACE HERE.
Arach. It had to be Arach. His hands felt different today, but who else would say that? She took a deep breath and felt her heartbeat finally stop galloping.
SAFE. SAFE PLACE. SAFE PLACE HERE.
He did it again. Then the hands were gone.
Could he be right? Maybe she could just sweep up the broken glass and no one would ever notice. No – they'd see the glass shards in the trash. Where else could she throw them away? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?
She listened and she couldn't hear anyone. He was sitting silently next to her on the floor, but she couldn't hear anyone else. If any of them were here she'd hear them. None of them could be that still.
She was safe here. She could look. She lifted her head, just slightly, enough so that she could peek out under her hair, get a glimpse of where she was, who was here.
It wasn't Arach. She knew him.
Gale Hawthorne. What was he doing here? She closed her eyes and pressed her head down against her knees. Of course. She was in his house. She'd forgotten. What was wrong with her? What had happened to her brain? How could she be so stupid? What could she say to him? He'd think she was a total mental case.
"Madge . . . I mean, Maggie?" She didn't move. She didn't respond. What could she say to him? Why couldn't she just disappear?
"Are you there?" He tried again. Great. He'd always been observant. Of course, he knew she was freaking out. Why else would she be sitting on the floor like this? "Can I get you anything?" He wasn't going to stop. She sat up straight and looked at him. She didn't have any paper anyway, but . . . .
Wait.
Where did everyone else go? If he was here, if Arach wasn't here, who had signed to her? Had that really happened or . . . could she have imagined the whole thing? Was she completely insane?
YOU OKAY?
He signed to her. Gale Hawthorne could sign?
One side of his mouth lifted in an almost smile.
I SIGN. A BIT.
HOW? WHO TAUGHT YOU?
He paused. He was studying her, weighing what he would say.
LONG STORY. EAT NOW? THEN I TELL YOU.
He didn't wait for her to respond, but stood and held out his hand to help her up. Why would he want to eat with a crazy avox? Then her stomach growled and she remembered the soup they'd made. She reached out and took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
Gale's mind was racing as he swept up the broken glass. He'd thought it would be better, easier for her, if he got rid of the glass. Something about that had triggered her, better not to make her deal with it again. Madge had gotten a ladle from somewhere and was serving the soup. Had Irene made that? It smelled like heaven. Would she be okay getting the soup? Her hands were shaking. Was that from nerves or just part of not being fully healed? Probably both.
He didn't want to break this . . . truce . . . whatever it was, by offering to take care of the soup too. Could she feed herself now? She definitely wouldn't let him feed her. As he poured the glass into the trash can . . . she flinched a bit at the sound . . . he noticed that she only had one bowl out. Hers, he was assuming it was hers, was in a mug. That would be simpler.
WATER? He asked. She nodded and he got two glasses down. This could be good. Things had been so strained between him, but this was something he knew, a way he could help her. Madge . . . Maggie was acting different, less angry. Maybe she didn't hate him. Maybe she was just . . . scared. After his first flashback he'd been terrified, afraid that he was hallucinating, losing his mind. He hadn't wanted anyone to know, but he'd been desperate for answers.
Maybe she'd let him give her some answers now.
AN - As always – I love to hear what you think. Let me know if anything doesn't make sense. I'll let you know if it wasn't supposed to make sense. Let me know what you like, what you don't like. Just love to hear from readers.
