Chapter 11
I haven't talked to Gale since his wedding. We've never discussed our familial relationship. Why would he be on my doorstep late at night?
I put my hand out to unlock the door.
Haymitch puts his arm against it to block me. "Who is it Katniss?"
"Gale Hawthorne, my hunting partner." Well, my former partner.
"Would he be related to Samuel by any chance?"
"Samuel was his father. He died in the mines with my dad." Except that Samuel is my blood father, but I'm not sharing that information with Haymitch.
"Catnip." Gale sounds desperate.
Haymitch scowls, but he pulls his arm away. I open the door and Gale enters.
Dark circles hang under his eyes. Flecks of coal dust sit on his clothing. He looks as if he hasn't slept or bathed in days.
His eyes narrow as he surveys the living room. With the electricity working and Haymitch's furniture it looks cozy and, no doubt, "rich" to Gale's way of thinking. Certainly far nicer than the front room of any house in the Seam.
"Done pretty well for yourself marrying the baker's son. It must be nice being a Merchant now."
The jealousy in his voice is evident. It makes me sad. It's not like I married Peeta to better my standard of living. I married him to save Prim. Wouldn't Gale want the best for me, his half-sister?
"What'd you want boy?" Haymitch asks.
A startled look comes over Gale as he becomes aware of Haymitch's presence.
"What's he doing here?" he growls.
Sometimes I wonder that same thing myself. Why did I let Haymitch move in and take over? But I know why. He's helping Peeta and therefore helping me. Besides without Haymitch around, I'd likely be lying on the floor of my closet inconsolable.
Anyway, it's none of Gale's business. We're relatives and he's ignored me since his wedding.
"Never mind," I tell him, my eyes flashing. "Why are you here?"
"To warn you."
"What's going on?" Haymitch interrupts.
"Can I speak with you privately Katniss?"
I register the subtle change from Catnip to Katniss. It's Gale's way of saying he's angry with me.
Well I can be just as mean back. "No, whatever you have to say you can say in front of Haymitch."
Gale glares at my houseguest. "If any of this gets passed along to the Capitol, if anyone disrupts our plan, I'm personally coming after you. Don't think your victor's status means anything to me."
"What is it Gale?" I break in. "Why are you here?"
"I came to warn you to stay away from the platform when Snow gives his speech. The miners are going to blow it up."
I gasp in disbelief. "But you'll kill everyone on it, probably even people in the crowd watching." How many other people will Gale condemn to death?
Gale waves his hand arrogantly. "So a few Merchants die. Does it matter?"
I step back shocked at his reckless plan.
"Are you looking to commit suicide?" Haymitch asks. He reaches for Gale's shoulders.
Gale pushes Haymitch's hands away, and steps back.
"Let go of me you stupid drunk. How many times have you got close enough to take him out? To do something that would end the misery that all of Panem lives under. Yet you haven't done anything. Instead you've taken two kids from this district every year to the Capitol to get slaughtered."
Gale goes on to recite a litany of things wrong with the Capitol. It's a long list and I've heard it before. Still with all his many complaints he doesn't even mention the housing policy, likely because the brunt of it falls on the Merchant population. It hasn't affected Gale at all.
Haymitch lets Gale rant, but once it's over he rushes him. Pushes Gale right up against the door. Haymitch gets his face in close. I never would have imagined that middle-aged man to have so much strength. But of course he won The Hunger Games.
"You have no idea what you're doing," the victor says. "Of the lengths the Capitol will go to punish you and your family and all of the other miners. Hell, if someone found out you were even having this conversation you'd be guilty of treason. Look what they did to your father."
Gale's face is flushed and I think he's ready to throw Haymitch across the room, but at the victor's last statement, he goes pale.
"The Capitol killed my dad?" His voice is hoarse.
I am stunned myself. "It was a mine explosion, wasn't it?"
Haymitch loosens his grip on Gale and turns toward me. "No one knows for sure. But most of the miners who died were known for their seditious talk."
Was my father a rebel? It seems hard to believe that the man who was so tender with my mother and my sister and I could be thinking about or maybe even plotting to overthrow the government of Panem.
Gale pushes Haymitch from him and steps to the side so his back is not against the door. A small smile appears on his face. I think he takes pride in the idea that he is following in his father's footsteps.
Haymitch must notice his expression as well because he comments on it immediately. "Dying for a noble cause isn't all it's cut out to be. What will your family do if you're gone?"
Gale's face darkens. He's married now, with a child on the way. I'm sure he still helps Hazelle financially.
"So we should do nothing then? Let Snow continue to ruin our lives?" Gale looks at me. "I'd think you'd be on our side Katniss after what's been done to your husband. But then there's a story going around that Peeta is getting off."
Rye and Phyl must have been talking a lot if word has reached the Seam. When I don't respond, Gale smiles smugly.
"So it's true. I guess the other rumor is true as well then, that Snow is going to change the rules for the reaping starting next month. That he means to include all kids in it, not just those in the Community Home. I can't go down without a fight, not with Rory and Vick's life at stake. Not with…"
I suspect he thinks of his child that Leevy carries in her belly, but he doesn't mention it. Maybe since he's been married such a short time and she is several months along. "I can't believe you wouldn't fight to save Prim," he says nastily.
His comment infuriates me because I married to save her, but the anger behind it also scares me. He is too rash.
"Look, you have every reason to be upset," Haymitch says. "But there's a lot going on that you're not aware of. The miners aren't the only ones in Twelve unhappy with Snow. The Merchants don't like him either."
Gale smirks.
"There's even people in the Capitol who hate him" Haymitch continues. "Why don't you let one of those other groups take him out? Because it will be done, mark my words."
"I'm not sitting around and waiting any longer." Gale throws a hateful glance at the victor. "I just wanted to warn you Katniss."
"No, Gale. Don't do it." I wrap my arms around him to give him a brotherly hug.
His arms go around my back, pulling me tight and for just a moment I wonder what it would have been like if we weren't related, if I had wed Gale instead. Immediately I know it would have been wrong. My life would be one of misery. I want no part of Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred.
As I pull away, my heart is pierced with longing. I want Peeta back in my arms.
"I need to go now," Gale says. "Leevy's expecting me." He gives me one last look and leaves.
As soon as the door is shut, Haymitch slams his fist against it.
"That damn fool. He'll ruin everything. He's as impulsive as his father."
Irritated over the entire situation, I speak without thinking. "Gale's father is mine too." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to take them back. This is not a topic I want to discuss with Haymitch. It's none of his business.
He gives me a strange look. "Is that what you've been told?"
My face grows red. I don't answer but he keeps staring at me until I am compelled to respond. "Only recently," I explain. "I didn't believe it at first. But my mother confirmed it."
Haymitch snorts. "That's what she thinks."
I narrow my eyes. "How in the hell would you know anything about this?"
"Well, you probably won't believe me, but I was friendly with Samuel Hawthorne, and Glenn Everdeen as well. We were all around the same age and grew up in the Seam together. When I came back after The Hunger Games, things changed. The Capitol killed my family and my girl because of some of the stupid things I said. My friends went on to have lives – girlfriends, and then marriage and children. I didn't. I started drinking to hold myself together.
"One day I ran into Samuel in the Hob. We got to talking. He stopped by my house in Victor's Village for a drink. He told me of this deal he'd agreed to, to provide seed for Everdeen's wife. He didn't feel right about it."
"What?" Haymitch's matter-of-fact delivery shocks me because it sounds believable.
"You heard me. Samuel Hawthorne refused to do it. But he didn't know how to get out of it because his wife was pressuring him. She thought his contribution was an act of charity. A good deed to help out a friend."
He chuckles as if it's a joke.
"So who…"
"Got your interest now sweetheart?"
I scowl at him. "Whose seed was it?" I snarl.
"Mine."
My stomach does a flip-flop as I stare into the victor's face. "That can't be true. You're lying. My mother would have told me if it was you."
"She doesn't know. Samuel and I agreed to keep it secret, and as far as I know he didn't tell anyone."
He certainly didn't tell Hazelle. "I don't see how you could pull it off," I argue. I didn't pay attention when my mother tried to explain the process because the mechanics of it sicken me, but how exactly could this even be possible?
It's as if Haymitch can read my mind. "Your mother gave Samuel a container to put his, ah, contribution in. He was to bring it to her while it was still warm. However the contribution he delivered came from me, not him. I don't know what your mother did with it after that, but you're here now, so I guess it worked."
"Why would you do it?"
"All my family was killed off after I won The Hunger Games." His voice takes on a downcast tone. "I was the last one left in the Abernathy line. And it's not like I was ever going to get married. I'm the richest man in Twelve, yet it wouldn't be safe for me to take a wife and have children. The Capitol would be using them to blackmail me in every kind of way. This way I could have a child and the Capitol wouldn't be the wiser."
My eyes widen as I consider the idea that Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor from District 12, the richest man in Twelve, the biggest drunk I've ever known, is my father.
Dumbfounded, I try to make sense of it. Then it hits me hard. What a bad father he's been. "Some father," I lash out at him. "Prim and I nearly starved to death when our dad was killed in the mines."
Haymitch takes on an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about that. I was drinking a lot at the time. I didn't realize that things were so bad for you."
I am ready to strike him for his selfishness and ignorance.
"But I did leave a basket of food by your door."
I remember that. Someone had set a basket filled with canned goods on our porch shortly after I'd taken up hunting. I'd always wondered who it was. At the time I thought it was Greasy Sae. I had begun to trade with her. I thought maybe she took pity on a scrawny twelve-year-old.
"Thank you," I mutter. While I appreciate his kindness, it wasn't very much.
"You have to understand I couldn't do more," Haymitch says. "It would have looked highly suspicious to the Capitol if I was suddenly favoring a dead miner's family. Especially when the miner had a rebellious bent. Hell, I would have liked to help the Hawthornes, too. Samuel was a friend. The best I could do was to give his wife a job laundering my dirty clothes."
I shake my head. I'm sure Hazelle appreciated the work, but Haymitch could have done so much more for all of us.
"Regardless of what you think of me, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for you. You remind me so much of my mother with your strong-willed determination. You even look a bit like her. The shape of your eyes and the color, well, they're the same.
"I consider it something of a miracle that the boy found me walking down the street and pulled me in to witness your toasting."
I remember my surprise at seeing Haymitch in our living room.
"Regardless of how it happened, you picked a fine man to marry. He's the best of those three Mellark boys. And someday I hope you'll give me some grandchildren for real." He glances at my padded midsection.
"I think I'll turn in now," I tell him. I am beyond astounded at what I've heard from Haymitch tonight. It will take some time for it to sink in.
"You do that," Haymitch says. "I'm going out for a walk. I'll be back in a while."
I panic. "You're not going to start drinking are you?"
"No," he says. "I wouldn't do that to you and Peeta."
I go into my bedroom, wishing with all my heart that Peeta were here. I want to talk to him about it. Get his opinion on the matter.
I can hardly sleep. My mind is a cluttered mess. Gale's warning. Haymitch's revelation. Longing for Peeta. I toss and turn. Hours later I hear my front door open and shut. Haymitch must have walked many miles.
Eventually I fall asleep. I wake up with dark circles. Octavia arrives to make Haymitch and I camera-ready.
"Did you even sleep?" Octavia asks Haymitch. His face is sunk in, his cheeks hollow, his eyes bloodshot. He yawns a lot, even though he's already had two cups of coffee. Is he worried about the trial? The plot Gale revealed to us last night? Or his own revelations to me?
Octavia fixes him up as best she can before turning to me. She makes small talk. "When are you due?"
It takes me a minute to realize that she's talking about my fake pregnancy. I guess Cinna hasn't told her the truth. I have to count on my fingers nine months from my marriage to do the math.
She laughs at me. "Oh Katniss, you're so funny. Everyone in the Capitol is rooting for Peeta to be found innocent and for you both to live happily ever after."
Apparently she doesn't know that the trial is scripted either.
"You and Peeta are the most talked about people in the Capitol right now," she adds, "well, along with the tailor. He's gotten a good-sized following too. There are many Capitol women who would jump at the chance to become the second Mrs. Dresser."
My skin crawls at the thought, although I suspect the tailor would be pleased to hear of it.
"Oh, it wouldn't be allowed of course," she says. "But the idea of roughing it with men from the districts, appeals to some women." She lifts one eyebrow and it's clear what Octavia thinks of those women.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A camera crew is on the street outside the house when Haymitch and I exit to walk to the Justice Building.
A woman with blue hair shouts questions at us. "What do you think will happen today now that…"
I stop at first to listen to her question, but Haymitch pushes me along.
"You don't need to say anything," he whispers. "They do it to look important."
When I don't answer, the woman stops and stands to the side and the camera operator films her while she speaks. I don't know what she has to report, because neither Haymitch nor I spoke to her, but I guess Haymitch is right. It was all about her anyway.
Overnight a large platform has been erected in front of the Justice Building, similar to the one used on Reaping Day. I wonder where the miners will place the explosives.
A large crowd of Merchants has gathered near it. I think everyone in Town is trying to gain admittance to the trial. Haymitch gets the attention of some Peacekeepers who lead us through the crowd so we can get inside the building.
Plutarch stops us and pulls us aside into a small room. "The trial needs to wrap up this morning."
"Why?" I exclaim. I look to Haymitch, but he adverts his eyes.
"You haven't heard?" Plutarch looks surprised. "It's all over the morning shows."
"I don't have a television."
Plutarch looks surprised that anyone could possibly live without one. "Last night Peacekeepers were tipped off to a plot by some coal miners to assassinate President Snow," he says. "They were planning to kill him on the platform by setting off explosives they'd stolen from the mines."
Oh Gale. Oh no. I try to keep my face neutral as if the information were completely new to me.
"Snow wants to get in and out of Twelve before anyone else gets any ideas," Plutarch explains. "So he pushed up the speech a day."
"What did they do with the three men they caught?" Haymitch asks calmly. It's the first time he's spoken.
Three men? I don't remember Plutarch giving us a number.
"The Peacekeepers locked them up in the basement," Plutarch says. "Snow wants them to hang after he gives his speech. He thought it would be a nice finale to the show."
"Aren't they being tried?" I choke out.
"This is treason," Plutarch explains. "An attempt on the president's life is an attempt on all of Panem."
"You do realize we'll have to skip the witnesses' testimonies and go directly to closing arguments," Haymitch tells the Gamemaker.
Plutarch nods. "It's a shame. I was especially looking forward Peeta's mother's statement. I think we could have got some choice sound bites from it."
A faint smile crosses all of our faces.
"And I was hoping to get some tears from this little mother here," Plutarch says looking directly at me.
Tears already fill my eyes as I contemplate Gale's fate. I blink and reach for Haymitch's arm to steady myself, my free hand resting on my stomach, to rub the soft fabric of my dress and calm my nerves.
"Katniss are you all right?" Plutarch asks, a crease forming in his forehead. "Is it the baby?"
"Yes, it just moved," I say sarcastically.
But Plutarch must be dense because he's oblivious to the tone in my voice. "That's so exciting. Maybe it could move later today when you meet the president and he could hold his hand to your stomach and feel it. That would be such a great moment to get on film."
"I don't think I can make it move at will," I tell Plutarch, wondering momentarily at his sanity.
"I'll talk to you later," the Gamemaker says, walking off to leave me with Haymitch.
"We have to stop this. Gale is my …" I hesitate at what to call him. He was my hunting buddy and best friend for years. I was almost getting used to thinking of him as my brother when Haymitch squashed that relationship. Despite everything I'd gone through with him though, he is still a long-time friend.
Haymitch is apologetic. "I know things look bad right now, but I promise it will all work out for good. You'll see. You'll just have to trust me on this one."
Why does everyone keep telling me that?
He walks me to the courtroom, but then he rushes off, leaving me alone, wondering what the hell is going on. The room fills up.
So many Merchants pour into the trial room today that they can't even sit. They stand along the back wall and the sides of the room. It astounds me that Plutarch would let so many people in, but I suppose he expects it would make the finale look all the more riveting. The low, even sound of murmuring makes me think the mood in the room is tense. Or maybe it's me.
Peeta's family arrives right before he does. All except Rye and Phyl. Delly whispers that they work in the bakery kitchen to prepare food for a reception that will be held for Snow at the Mayor's house this afternoon.
"Two Peacekeepers are watching them to ensure that nothing is added to the baked goods."
I put my hand to my mouth to stop the hysterical giggle that threatens to emerge.
Two more Peacekeepers escort Peeta into the room. Even with make-up he looks tired. I can't begin to imagine what's he's going through. I wonder if he's heard about this latest wrinkle that will shorten the trial.
He catches my eye as he enters and I give him an encouraging smile. I try to remain hopeful. In spite of everything there is one piece of good news. Maybe, just maybe, with the trial finishing today Peeta and I will be together tonight.
But my mind wanders as the prosecutor cross-examines Peeta. Why is Haymitch acting so mysterious? I have a sick feeling that he was the one that tipped off the miners' plan to the Peacekeepers. He was gone from the house for hours last night and he even knew the number of men that had been arrested. But I can't understand why he'd do it. Does he want Gale to die?
The show breaks after the cross-examination. Plutarch calls a short meeting with the judge, Haymitch and the prosecutor. The four men leave the room.
Without anyone to keep the crowd in check, loud conversations ensue among the audience. I can't take it any longer. I get up from my seat and rush to Peeta who stands and embraces me.
"It's almost over," he murmurs to me.
"Tonight," I whisper. "We'll be together tonight." I hope I am right.
Suddenly Peeta puts his arms down and gently pushes me away. "The camera is on us." He tips his head toward the monitor.
"I don't care."
"No, Katniss, this is for us, not them."
I know he's right. I am sick of all of Panem being a witness to our marriage.
"All right." I return to my seat, catching a vicious glare from his mother as I do.
The volume of noise in the room increases. It sounds as if a dozen arguments are occurring.
I turn my head to see that people are leaving.
By the time Plutarch returns, the overflow crowd is gone and there are many empty chairs, as well.
"What happened?" Plutarch asks the camera operator nearest to me.
He shakes his head as if he hasn't a clue, but clearly something is happening.
Plutarch calls "Action," and the closing arguments get underway.