District 8 reapings—Euphemisms

Thomas Kerr returned home from school with his sister Lucy to find his mother Lolita being her usual self: busy with management of the family business.

"Oh, good you're home, sweetie. How was school?" she said, breaking off her conversation with a man whose face Thomas recognized, but otherwise drew a blank. Lucy ignored the discussion and went off to her room, not interested in her mother's usual dealings at the moment.

"Normal. Except everybody was talking about reaping day." His mother paused for a second before sighing quietly.

"Forgot about that. I don't know if some of the girls will be off that morning, but it shouldn't hurt us too much."

"I could always pick up the slack for you, ma'am," the stranger said. She looked at him with amusement and chuckled.

"No offense, sir, but I don't think now is a good time to switch careers. Or ever, for that matter."

"No, ma'am. I meant I could sell enough of my inventory to pick up the slack." Thomas' mother blushed.

"Oh…sorry I misunderstood you. Yeah, you should be able to do that."

"My payment for last week, though. When's it coming in?"

"You should find something wired into your back account by tomorrow." The stranger nodded in gratitude and then left.

"Why do you have to use all those euphemisms again, mom?" Thomas asked. "Girls? Inventory? Picking up the slack? Something?" Lolita gave her son a hug.

"You'll understand one day when you're in charge," she reassured him. "Never know who could have a wire. Euphemisms are always necessary in—"

"Our line of work," Thomas finished, having heard that particular euphemism so many times. Lolita smiled, glad that she had made her son memorized her jargon.

"Well, my client's gone now, so I think the house might be safe. Last time I got the inspector in he couldn't find any bugs. So I guess we can speak freely."

"Good," Thomas said. "Because I was going to tell you that nobody at school that I know of wants to get high or laid. Well, I think Jimmy does, but…"

"He doesn't have the money for it, I'll bet," Lolita finished. "Plus I don't like your classmates becoming my clients. The thought is just icky. I mean, sure, what we do is illegal, but even we Kerrs have our standards."

"Yeah. Thanks for that," Thomas said, hugging his mother back.

"So, when you finish your homework, I'll need you to go and check on the prostitutes at the brothels. Go as far as Cobbler Street and then come back, and get half of their cash, or more if you can squeeze it out of them."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks, sweetie. Hope I made you happy by not using euphemisms!"

"You did," Thomas reassured her as he went off to go do his homework. A few minutes passed by before his sister came in unannounced.

"That was stupid," Lucy said harshly.

"Well, why did you wait a bit to tell me?" Thomas asked.

"I had to make sure mom left. But don't be all mushy with her. That's just weird and embarrassing and gross."

"How is it embarrassing? We're at home."

"I mean telling her not to use words to cover up other words. What's it called again?"

"Euphemisms," He corrected her.

"Yeah, those. Don't be harsh to her like that ever again! And don't ever tell her about your little plans or I'll make you pay!" Thomas ignored her and said nothing.

Lucy angrily turned around and slammed the door, frustrated that she had accomplished little. Maybe one day Thomas would understand that organized crime was covert, not an act of rebellion.

Or maybe he wouldn't.

Thomas finished his homework and went along the nearby streets of District 8, remembering to stop and turn around at Cobbler Street just like his mother had instructed. Maybe the other prostitutes could manage themselves.

He came to the first brothel, a plain-looking building marked as the "Silk Hotel", but most residents around here knew what it really was. Thomas knocked on the door, and the gentleman who was essentially the brothel's manager opened the door.

"Pay day?" he asked Thomas.

"Yup. Well, for mom."

"Ok, I'll let the girls know." Thomas waited outside for a few minutes, standing at the side so that he wouldn't be in the way of any clients that shuffled out awkwardly.

"Aren't you too young to be here?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, but my mom's making come over," Thomas explained. The man's jaw dropped in shock, obviously coming to incorrect conclusions.

"Well…hope you have fun, kid." Thomas didn't reply and went into the brothel.

Most of the women had put on cloaks and dresses suitable for wearing in public when Thomas entered their rooms to collect the money. They were polite and smiled, occasionally making small talk and handing Thomas the exact amount required of them. They didn't dare try and seduce him.

Thomas continued this process until he reached the last brothel before Cobbler Street, counting all of the money he had so far and realized that the prostitutes had come up short of their usual income. Mom wouldn't be happy, especially if some of them wouldn't be working on reaping day.

So when it came to the last brothel, Thomas had to put on his charm. Since he was only 13 and rather prepubescent, it wasn't the sort of charm that the prostitutes hoped for in a client.

"Hey, Anita! Hi, Belle! Hi, Zena!" Thomas said hello to each of the prostitutes by name and went to each one individually.

"Hey, listen," was the beginning of the basic message Thomas delivered to each one of them, "Mom wants payment. I would normally ask for an even cut, but some of the others couldn't contribute as much. I know it's a pain for you to have to give a bit more, but my mom…you know how she can be. I don't want her getting mad. I just…want to make her happy. So, if you could just give a bit more today, that would be great. I promise it won't be money wasted, especially with me!"

Some of them were moved by Thomas' desire to please his mother, others believed him when he said that his mother would be angry if he failed to collect enough money (Thomas himself didn't know, but he simply chose not to risk it), and still others just gave him the extra money because they were quite used to this sort of thing. But nobody could resist Thomas; he was too sweet and innocent-looking despite being the son of the largest crime organization in District 8.

"Thanks," Thomas told the girls. "I know life isn't the best right now, but I promise that when I take over the business, things will be a bit happier. We'll have made enough by then to renovate these places and bribe the cops enough so that you guys and the drug dealers will have an easier time of working." The girls were gladdened by his promises and hoped that he would do just that, although some had their doubts.

Thomas then made his way home, where he found his father Cas with his mother. Cas ran the smuggling aspect of the business, and he was the one who managed the rendezvous points in and out of the District, where people from 6 would come and smuggle in all sorts of drugs—most of them only illegal for people in the Districts only because the Capitol could survive if many of its citizens were high on something. But District people needed to work, not get high, was their logic. Thomas thought this was completely unfair, but even so it made good business. The recipients at the spots at the edge of 8 would then meet with their sellers and distribute all of their stock evenly, and the list of confirmed clients was endless.

Now, though, Cas wasn't discussing drug smuggling. He seemed to whispering to Lolita in frantic tones, and she grew pale. Thomas watched them talk, trying to eavesdrop, but then turned and took cover behind the wall of a hallway when his mother turned her head towards him.

"I think he can hear us…" Lolita breathed. "Guess it doesn't matter. Don't want him to know, though. Euphemisms."

"Ok, fine," Thomas heard Cas whisper. "But, look…I doubt they'll do it. They'd go after us, not him."

"No, they'd go after him all right," Lolita replied. "That's how the Capitol punishes people. That's what they'd do to us. It's the only way they can break us."

"I hope you're wrong," Cas said. "But at least we broke them good."

"We did. But it doesn't matter now if they're taking our baby away."

"We can stop them, we have the strength," Cas insisted.

"What, with our army of hookers and druggies?!" Lolita rasped, forgetting to use the usual euphemisms. "No, we can't. The only thing we can do is…comply. Lucy will be a good manager."

Thomas went to bed that night, uneasy and terribly afraid.

. . . . .

The next morning at reaping day, Thomas trembled as he walked up to the stage, knowing that he had been reaped for a reason.

"Thomas Kerr," he muttered his name to the escort, who acted as if nothing strange had happened at all.

"And now for the girls!" the escort called out. He reached his hand into the girls' reaping bowl, and Thomas briefly wondered whether it was rigged, too. Would one of the organization's finest prostitutes be in the Games, too?

"Denelle Ardley!" the escort announced. Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't recognize that name, so chances are it was some ordinary girl with no connections. He could see a girl that was fairly tall, at least from his perspective, and wearing an all-yellow dress with an all-yellow bow to match. Even her blonde hair complemented this whole yellow thing. She was giving her friends and family a hug before bounding up the stage.

"I know you don't know me, and I know this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to you right now," Denelle told Thomas, squeezing him into a hug. "But I'll do what I can to make something good out of it!"

"It's ok. I was kind of expecting this. You see," Thomas began as they were escorted to the Justice Building, "My family runs the District's largest underground crime organization, consisting of numerous brothels and drug peddlers. So it was only a matter of time, really." Denelle looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Wow! That sounds…really fascinating! You've GOT to tell me about it sometime soon while we have time!"

AN: Ok, I just REALLY wanted Thomas to say that last line. Just imagine him saying it in the most awkward and yet most frank way possible.

Sorry that you didn't get to see much of Denelle. These tributes are all so well-written that I can only get to one, and even then I try to show you a glimpse of the other tribute. I just figured you'd be less inclined to read this in one sitting if it went over 2,500 words.

A big thanks to earthling44 and jakey121 for Thomas and Denelle, respectively.

Trivia question: Which of these characters usually wears a red sweater?

Kankri

Elmer Fudd

Slim

Leela