Seasons of Wither, Chapter 14

Gale and I spend the rest of the afternoon gathering, fishing, and blushing whenever we catch one another's eye. I'm tired when dinnertime finally rolls around, and Gale builds up a fire to cook our fish over as I spend my time gathering armfuls of dry pine needles and dumping them into a pile on the concrete floor of the little house that sits next to the lake. We decide that it's best to sleep there tonight since it's safer. Though the door was torn from its hinges long ago, we still have three walls of protection from predators.

After spending a couple of hours cleaning the place up well enough to sleep in and making a bed of poky pine needles, I unroll the large wool blanket Gale had brought with him over our makeshift mattress. It won't be cold enough to need it for warmth tonight, but it will make a nice barrier between our skin and the scratchy pine needles.

I'm exhausted by the time I sink down on the ground by Gale's side, and he turns the fish, which are skewered with long, straight branches, over on the fire before throwing his free arm over my shoulders.

"You look tired, Catnip," he notices.

I am tired. The long hike through the woods, the swimming, all of the gathering, and—okay—the lovemaking, have taken a lot out of me. None of it would've worn me out a few months ago like it has today—save maybe the lovemaking, because who knows? But that was probably long overdue anyways.

I lean into Gale's warmth, resting my head on his shoulder as he removes the fish from the fire. After our meager lunch, I'm starving, too. Gale had put his father's fishing pole to good use this afternoon, catching four bluegill and three crappie in a three hour span. I peel the skin away from one and bite into it without allowing it to cool. The delicate flesh burns the roof of my mouth but I'm much too hungry to care. I end up eating three right away and staring at the extra before Gale grins and hands it to me.

"Eat up," he insists. "There's a lot more where that came from."

I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks, which, in a way, I kind of haven't. Not like this anyways. My belly feels full, which only makes me feel even more exhausted. We are watching the sun set behind the treeline as I begin to doze off on Gale's shoulder when he suggests I go to bed. I don't argue with him, just walk up to the small concrete house on the corner of the lake, make myself comfortable on the nest of pine needles, and fall asleep right away.

…

It's sometime during the middle of the night when I wake up screaming from a dream where a Capitol hovercraft comes out of nowhere and spears Gale straight through his torso before pulling him up into the sky. I awaken confused and terrified as I bolt up from our bed crying out.

"Catnip?" Gale asks groggily from his side of the bed. "Katniss, what's wrong?" His eyes look tired, but worried, as I gasp for air. It's completely dark outside now, except from the flickering light from the fire outside that Gale had kept going to keep away wild animals, and it takes me a second to remember where I'm at.

"You were dead. They found us and they killed you and pulled you away into the hovercraft," my words jumble out all at once. "They killed you... The Capitol killed you," I go on, still choking on my sobs.

Still groggy and half-asleep, Gale gathers me into his arms.. "No, Katniss. I'm right here," he mutters against the top of my head. "It was just a dream. I'm fine," he ensures me, stroking my hair from my sweaty face in an effort to settle me. He grabs a canteen from the bedside and urges me to drink. I'm still shaking when I twist the cap back on.

"It was all so real," I go on, my voice still a bit shaky. "They just showed up while we were hunting and..." I shake my head. "Why do I keep having these dreams?" I cry.

"The pregnancy is making you stressed. No one's gonna kill me, Catnip," Gale tells me. "I won't go down that easily. Now lie down and try to rest."

I'm still tired, but the last thing I want to do is go to sleep right now and finish that dream. Gale pulls me back down and tucks me against his chest before wrapping his arms protectively around me. I watch the fire burn low outside the door, listening to the sounds of bullfrogs only yards away. It's the second dream I've had involving Gale's death by the Capitol. These nightmares are just due to pregnancy hormones, I tell myself, because I don't want to think about them being my subconscious warning me of some sort of imminent danger.

…

The next day we spend the morning taking down geese that gather around the lake at dawn. They're easy picking, since their idea of fleeing danger is merely flying to the other side of the lake. I bring down three with ease and have to stop myself when I realize that we're going to have to carry all of our kills home along with our supplies.

I find that Gale had spent the previous evening while I was sleeping fashioning a crude seine from his rope. The mess of knots is certainly nothing to look at, but when we bring it out into the lake, it catches fish easily. Gale and I pull a hodgepodge of 8 or 10 from the netting and string an extra piece of the cord through their gills before dropping them back into the water and tying the string to the base of a small tree that sits at the edge of the bank.

By afternoon we decide to take a break and Gale is smiling because we have more than enough game to carry back to the district for trade. We wind up going for another swim—stark naked this time since it seems silly to be so modest after what happened yesterday—and yes, end up making love in the grass again. We tell each other we might not get the chance to do this for awhile, and Gale has the hormones of an 18-year-old boy and me the one of a pregnant woman. We're out in the middle of nowhere without a soul around. Ignoring the opportunity of being intimate with one another is hard to avoid under these circumstances.

It feels good to be so close to him. To have nothing—not even a shred of fabric—between us. My head is lying on Gale's arm afterwards as he hovers over me, gently touching my lips with his fingertips. His skin is a shade darker than mine from all of the work he's been doing outside this summer. Strong hands trace a soft trail down my arms—hands that can bring down a buck, repair a leak in the roof, heave an ax, but also feel so gentle as they glide across my skin.

"I'm glad that we came here," he tells me. "I think it's just what both of us needed. Plus, we finally have something to bring into the Hob when we get back. Seems silly how much I miss the black market action."

I smile, cupping his face into my hands before pulling him down into a kiss. My stomach flutters and I rest the palm of my hand on my abdomen as I try to decipher whether it's being with Gale that is causing the sensation or the baby growing inside of me.

"She's moving again?" he asks, looking down at the protruding stomach that divides us.

"I think so," I answer him before staring up at him curiously. "You're so sure that it'll be a girl," I say to him, noting that this wasn't the first time he'd referred to the baby as "she" or "her."

"Yes, because I want a girl," he sheepishly admits.

I smile. "I think that you're wrong. My mother says that it's a boy because she says that I'm carrying low."

"Not quite sure what that means," he says, leaning down to kiss my stomach. "Guess we'll see in a few months who's right. Come up with any names yet?" He asks me.

"Gale Junior."

He chuckles. "You can't be serious about that."

"Sure. Why not? He'll be just like a miniature version of you," I say. "Courageous and bold and always wearing a scowl."

"That sounds more like you, Catnip," Gale assures me. "Besides, Gale Junior isn't a fitting name for a little girl. One with your wavy hair and straight nose and short stature."

I wrinkle my nose. "No, this baby isn't going to be like me," I shake my head at him dismissively. "That's why it's going to be a boy and inherit all of your features."

Gale rolls his eyes. "You mean olive skin, dark hair, and gray eyes? I think that it's safe to assume that will be true no matter who she takes after."

I shake my head at him and realize this is the first time we've really spoken about the baby and not just the problems that surround the fact that he or she was created at the worst possible time in our lives. "I tell you what," I begin. "If it's a boy, I'll name him whatever I want to. And if it's a girl, which it won't be, you can name her whatever you like."

"Sounds fair to me," Gale agrees.

Later that day, Gale takes a long look over the lake as we finish packing our things. We have a good three hours to make it back to the district before the sun sets. Then we'll go to the Hob and try to trade for a few necessities we've had to make do without and hopefully a bit of money for our pockets as well.

"I wonder how many more places there are like this out there," I hear Gale say as I roll up the blanket he had brought along. "Abandoned houses with a close supply of fresh water. I bet they're all over the place. People weren't always confined to districts, and there's all that open space in between. Maybe there's even a few descendents of stragglers from the Dark Days living independently out there."

"Capitol would've killed them all by now," I say as I stuff the blanket down into the burlap sack and then go to grab the string of fish from the lake. It's Gale's last attempt to bring up the idea of running, but it's hard to ignore the longing look in his eyes as he looks out over the uninhabited space that surrounds us.

…

Our entrance into the Hob is met with welcoming smiles of surprise. I'm a bit self-conscience being pregnant after years of some of the regulars teasing Gale and I about being together, which we never were until now. Gale, sensing my uneasiness, wraps an arm around me for support as I rest my hand on my protruding belly. I guess we really do look like a real couple now, young and expecting our first child. It'd be so easy for anyone to assume we were happily married and excited about starting a family. No one who didn't know us well enough would ever imagine all of the trouble we'd gotten ourselves into.

Greasy Sae does a double take from behind her counter and crosses her arms as she shakes her head at us. "You know," she begins as we both approach her with our day's kill in hand. "Someone told me you two were having a baby, but I couldn't believe it. Guess it makes sense considering how much time you spend alone together out there. Guess you gotta find some form of entertainment while you're waiting for game to wander by," she adds with a wink.

Gale and I both blush furiously until Sae gives us a smile that tells us she is only joking.

Darius, who sits at Sae's booth sipping stew, stands up immediately and offers me the last seat at the counter. I take his place apprehensively since I'm still not used to the idea of people fussing over me. Gale shows Greasy Sae the string of fish that we'd brought from the lake for trade while Darius leans in and whispers into my ear "It's too bad, Katniss. You know, redheaded children are known for their strength and intellect," he teases.

"Is that so?" I ask him. "I guess it skips generations then."

Darius offers me a simper before placing his empty stew bowl back on the counter. "Congratulations," he tells me in a sincere tone before tugging playfully on the end of my braid and walking away.

Gale lets out a small grumble as he takes the now-empty seat at my side and Sae serves us both up a bowl of stew. It's almost too warm outside to enjoy it, but the long hike home has left me famished. "He messing with you again?" Gale asks me, a bit of anger in his tone. Darius has always been a flirt, but it's always in good humor. Most of the time it still ends up rubbing Gale the wrong way though.

"Yes," I answer, somewhat pleased at his obvious jealousy. "He tells me that redheaded children are stronger and smarter."

"Too bad we only have Darius to use as an example, and he isn't backing up that theory too well."

We both have a laugh at the peacekeeper's expense before I dig in for another spoonful of stew.

"So, when's the nuptials?" Sae speaks up from behind the counter as she begins to fillet the fish. I almost choke on my stew at the sudden question, causing Gale to quickly reach over to pat my back as he mirrors my own nervous expression.

"We, uh," he begins uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. "We haven't quite discussed that. Been sort of...busy."

"I bet," she says with a wink, and suddenly I don't think we'll be missing the Hob quite so much anymore.

…

"I'll miss having you in my bed," Gale admits when we reach the front of my house. "Nightmares and all."

I smile until I realize that this is what it will be like even after the baby is born—Gale seeing me home and then telling me goodnight. We haven't discussed our future together yet or how it might change later on, even with everyone else back at the Hob already planning a wedding for us. We've only just come together, and the idea of us being more than a couple right now seems unlikely. I don't think that either of us want to rush things when our relationship has been so turbulent.

Then there's the likely fact that marriage may be the last thing on Gale's mind now, considering that only a couple of months ago he was kissing other girls and maybe even doing more than that with them. He certainly can't be all that enamored with me if he'd been thinking of someone else even after we were together. I try not to think about those other girls as it only succeeds and making me act spitefully towards him.

I allow Gale to wrap me in his arms before he leaves and give him a long kiss before he finally tells me goodbye.

That night, even with Prim sleeping peacefully at my side, my bed feels incredibly empty.