The IV bag swayed back and forth very slightly on its pole because of the force with which Katniss had slammed the door. I reminded myself repeatedly that the bag only contained a sedative and not any tracker jacker venom. That didn't work. Even as I stared down at the floor, the shadow of the IV bag rocked in exactly the same manner as the actual bag. My hand had that strange sensation of something being stuck in it, the IV. Closing my eyes didn't help as much as I thought it would. When I tried to put my hands over my face, I met the resistance of the restraints. I'd been restrained in the Capitol too, of course. I panicked.
Why are they leaving me alone? I thought. Why are they leaving me tied up?
I started to tremble and my eyes filled with warm tears.
I'm safe. I reassured myself. I'm in district 13. Nobody is going to hurt me here. There's no tracker jacker venom. There will be no beatings. They won't kill or torture people in front of me.
My efforts were not very effective. Unsure of how I could possibly feel better in such a humiliating situation, I tried to pull my legs up on the bed. The prosthetic one got tangled up in the sheet. Embarrassment continued to build because I couldn't even free my fake leg.
I'm not even a human being. I thought. My mind doesn't work. My leg is fake. Communicating with people who matter to me is impossible. I'm an attempted murderer! I'll never be who I once was!
Though I was about to completely lose it, I was unwilling to call for help. Katniss might still be outside. If the restraints, the IV medication bag, and my odd conversation with her hadn't convinced Katniss that I was still crazy; having an episode of confusion in front of her certainly would. Then again, maybe she needed to see what was really happening to me. Maybe that was the only way she would she really understand why I said what I'd said and why I'd tried to kill her. I shuddered at the thought of Katniss seeing me in the troughs of an episode though, especially since I'd heard Delly's descriptions.
I fought hard, but it was no use. That combination of the IV medication bag and the restraints was too great a reminder of the torture I'd experienced. The disastrous conversation with Katniss was too great stressor. As I became lost in my inner world again, I hoped that whatever I said and did in my confusion would not be upsetting anyone.
The rain is relentless. I could watch it for hours because it's so different from any downpour I've ever seen. Despite the fact that I know it's dangerous to have this much rain during a spring that has already had record rainfall, I can't help enjoying the way the rain beats a rhythm on the roof and the windows.
"Has it ever been like this before…I mean that you remember?" I ask my brother.
He's double knotting the laces of his boot. We're preparing to help Papa move the bakery's stocks of flour and other staples from the storage room in the basement to the upper level of the house.
"There was a landslide when I was seven," he says. "Nobody was killed, but quite a few houses were completely swept away. The Capitol never rebuilt them."
"What do you think will happen if the houses flood now and nobody can live in them?" I ask.
"That depends on how coal production is affected," my brother says coolly. "Anything that impacts the Capitol in a negative way will make them want to help us. Otherwise, they won't care."
My brother grabs his coat. "Ready?" He asks me.
I nod, and we venture out into the rain. My father is yelling. His eyes appear tired and worried, but they aren't angry. He's trying to tell us something, but I can't hear him. Then he points to the porch where Mama is struggling to drag a bag of flour. It's wrapped in plastic to help protect it. Unfortunately the basement has an entrance that is external to the bakery and house. So we have to take everything out into the rain to get it upstairs. I run to Mama and pick up the bag of flour. She nods and smiles.
We spend the next few hours transporting bags of flour, spices, sugar, and anything else of any value from the basement storage room to my bedroom upstairs. As I'm about the collapse in exhaustion on my bed, I see out of the window that a group of people is walking through town in spite of the downpour.
"What's going on?" I ask my brother while I point to them.
"Oh, they are probably from the Seam," he says. "I bet the Peacekeepers are evacuating them. They will probably be staying in the school or maybe even the justice building. It'll be safer for them there. The Seam is lower ground and more prone to flooding."
"Will they evacuate all of them?" I ask.
My brother smiles, "Don't you mean 'will they evacuate Katniss?'"
"I'm not answering that," I say in the most annoyed sounding voice I can muster. "What will they do if the merchant district starts to flood?" I ask.
"I guess there would be an evacuation of the whole district to higher ground, but I seriously doubt that the flooding will be that bad. The clean-up is going to make carrying those bags of flour up the stairs look easy though! It's going to be so gross! All that nasty, smelly mud! You have to stay out of it too because it breeds diseases!"
I wrinkle my nose, and he pinches my side to make me laugh.
Just then we hear something bumping hard against the wall outside the room. My brother swings the door open, and we catch a glimpse of my father leading our pig down the hall! The pig is resisting, of course. It's squealing, pulling, and running into the wall. My father loses his balance and nearly falls. My mother is yelling.
"Don't bring that pig in my house!"
"I won't have her drowning." My father argues, "It's just for the night! I'll put her in that box I have for her."
"She'll squeal all night; don't we have enough to worry about without a squealing pig in the house."
My brother starts laughing hysterically.
"Someday I'm going to tell this story to my kids," he laughs.
"Papa, Graham and I can keep watch the first half of the night for flooding if you'll watch for the second. We can make absolutely certain that the pig pen doesn't start flooding if we check it often. Then if we need to bring her in, we can."
Papa looks at me, presses his lips together. Then he smiles a proud smile.
"That's a great idea, Peeta. What do you think, Mama?"
My mother is standing in the hall, her hands on her hips.
"It sounds good to me if it gets that pig out of my house!"
My brother laughs again, "I think that's a 'yes, thank you, Peeta.'"
That night my brother and I keep watch while we play cards. There's a knock at the door around 2:00 am when the rain starts to slow.
My brother looks out the window cautiously, then smiles and opens the door.
"Becki, Hey." His voice is gentle and happy.
Becki walks just inside the door and wraps her arms around Graham's waist. He pulls her to him in an embrace. Their lips meet in a kiss that I can only describe as like the ones in a Capitol movie.
My eyes grow wider, and I try to suppress that I'm completely fascinated by what they are doing. Taking a step back I stumble over a chair. The noise startles Becki, and she looks at me as if she had no idea I was in the room until that moment.
"Graham!" She says, obviously alarmed.
My brother turns around.
"Oh, sorry Peeta." He says.
Becki chuckles. "What about me?" She slaps his arm with the back of her hand.
"You're the one who came in here being so irresistible…I can only be blamed for forgetting my little brother was behind us. Who wouldn't forget?" My brother says leaning in close to her again.
He turns to me briefly, a delighted smile stretching widely across his face. "Peeta, I'm going to check on the pig and see if the storage room has any standing water. You stay here alright," he said. "Um, I may be a little bit. Is that okay with you?"
"Sure," I say.
Becki smiles at me.
"Oh, Graham. Was that bad that Peeta…" I hear Becki whisper as they are leaving.
"No, Peeta can keep a secret."
Indeed, I can keep a secret. I think.
I pour myself a glass of water and listen to Becki giggle. The storage room is right under the bakery's kitchen, and the flooring is thin. Wondering what Graham could be doing to make Becki giggle like that is a little too much for my fourteen year old brain to handle, so I decide to wait for Papa in the front of the bakery.
Soon I hear Papa's footsteps on the stairs.
"The rain stopped," I tell Papa happily.
"Yes, I think it has too. I'm going to check on the pig and the basement," Papa says.
"Oh, that's all right, Papa. I can do it. You can just go back to bed. I'll stay up."
"No, I don't think I can go back to sleep until I check on everything myself. Where's your brother anyway?"
My father's feet move swiftly. I follow, ignoring the question about my brother's whereabouts.
"Papa, I'll check the storage room if you check on the pig. How's that?" I suggest, my pulse quickening.
"Why are you acting so weird, Peeta?" My father asks suspiciously. He winds around the bakery to the entrance of the basement. I can hear voices, and I know Papa can too because he turns to look at me.
"Who's down there?" Papa asks with a perplexed look that quickly morphs into a scowl.
"Graham is," I say. I try to say it loud enough for my brother to hear but not so loud that Papa can tell I'm trying to warn him.
Just then Becki giggles.
"Graham, huh? I suppose Graham laughs like that?"
Papa pulls his keys out of his pocket and turns to unlock the basement. I bring my hand to my face, close my eyes, and shake my head. I'm not sure if I want to see and hear what's about to happen, but I'm unable to convince myself to leave.
Papa walks in swiftly to investigate as soon as he has the door open, and I follow.
"What in the world do you think you are doing?" I hear my father say loudly.
My muscles stiffen and I take a step back from the sheer shock of hearing the angry tone he's using. Then I see Becki, her silhouette is visible in the dim light. It's clear she's only partially dressed and covering herself with the rest of her clothing. There's really nowhere for her to hide in the empty storage room.
"Papa…" my brother stammers as he rises to his feet.
I can hear Becki start to sob, and I walk closer to her. She's a beautiful girl, and I can't help but notice the parts of her body that are uncovered. I've never seen a girl who wasn't totally dressed. Still, she's so upset that it feels wrong to look at her. I turn around right in front of her so I'm blocking everyone's view, including my own.
She seems to understand what I'm doing.
"Thank you," she whispers through her sobs. I hear her move around and know she is probably getting dressed.
Papa looks at me.
Seemingly talking through me he says, "Go home, Becki."
"I can't exactly go there, Mr. Melark…" She begins.
"Then go wherever you are supposed to be. I need to talk to my son. If you need Peeta to walk you somewhere then he will," he adds.
Looking presentable again, Becki slips past me. "My cousin's store is two doors down. That's where I'm staying. I'll be alright," Becki says.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers to my brother.
My brother takes her hand.
"Maybe it's better this way. They need to know," he answers.
Becki leaves quickly after waving goodbye to me.
"Papa, I can explain." My brother begins.
"Oh, you don't need to explain the things you were doing. I think I can figure that out. What I can't figure out is why you are doing them with Becki instead of your fiancé!"
I gasp.
Who's his fiancé? I ask myself. Why doesn't anybody tell me anything?
"Becki is my fiancé. I just haven't been able to tell any of you that," Graham admits.
"What are you talking about? What about Susan?" My father inquires. He crosses his arms over his chest.
I know who Susan is. I wonder if she's the one Papa is saying is my brother's fiancé. That would make sense. Mama has been pushing my brother to date her for years, and he spends time with her on occasion. Susan's the second daughter of the butcher.
"Susan isn't exactly interested in me…or any…boys," my brother says in a progressively quiet voice.
My father sighs.
My brother goes on explaining, "Susan and I are just friends. I didn't want to make anything harder for her, and I knew Mama would be furious if she thought I wasn't participating in this plan of hers for me to marry Susan. So Susan and I have been pretending. We don't want to get married. Becki and I do."
My father is staring at Graham with an intensity that makes me shiver.
My brother continues, "Becki is great for me. She's warm, funny, and pretty. At school she's a hard-worker. I know she'll make a good wife. She'll be a good mother."
My father shifts his weight from one foot to the other at that last comment.
And she's a little silly, I think. I have a crush on someone who rarely smiles though, so maybe I'm not the best judge!
My father sighs again. "She's penniless. She's from the Seam and has absolutely nothing," he points out.
"I know," my brother replies slowly as he looks guiltily down at the floor. "Papa, I really love her. I have for a long time. It's not a passing feeling, it's very real. It's been hard to hide it for so long. We've had to be apart so much just to keep our secret. I don't know what came over us tonight."
"How long? How long has this been going on?" Papa asks.
"Two years."
I see my father's jaw drop. Mine does too. I wonder how he could have kept such a secret for so long. Then again, avoiding Mama's wrath is very motivating.
The next morning I hear my Mama throwing things around the bakery. I go to sit at the top of the stairs.
"Why, Graham? Why would you want to marry her? That's the worst thing you could do! She's not of your stature! You will bring down our reputation in the entire community! She knows nothing of how to run a business! In fact, she probably knows nothing about anything!"
"Mama, you don't know her. She's a good person."
"A good person? You think that's all she needs to be!" Mama yells.
"No. She has four younger brothers. She takes good care of them. I know she loves her parents. She makes good grades at school. She makes me happy."
"I am sure she finds ways to make you happy!" Mama screams.
"Now Marilyn, he's just telling you the truth. Happiness is important, after all. This girl may not bring any wealth into his life, but if he's able to teach her the business then she could be just as great an asset as another wife would be. She obviously has some skills in the way of running a household from being the oldest daughter in a big family," my father interjects calmly.
"Peeta! I know you are up there. Just come downstairs and stop eavesdropping!" My mother yells. "You're always sneaking around!"
I freeze. How many other times has she known I was eavesdropping?
I slowly walk down the stairs.
"This is my last son, Graham," Mama says as she puts her arm around me. "Your older brother chose to take up with his wife's family in their business. This town is still going to need a bakery though. It's either going to be you or Peeta that runs it. I suggest you seriously consider your choice of wife because I have a feeling your brother is going to seriously consider his after what he's just heard. He might just inherit what you should have if he makes better choices than you do!"
I shake my head and pull away from Mama.
"No. Graham and I can run the bakery together. I wouldn't want to do it alone no matter what," I say.
"Peeta it won't make enough money for both of you. Graham's poor choices are your gain. You should be quiet," my mother explains.
I look at my brother and shake my head.
Mama's eyes show more fury than I've ever seen in them, "now you go tell that worthless girl that you can't marry her, Graham! You tell her right now! You tell her that you can never see her again! And you better pray that she's not pregnant!"
"Mama, we haven't…"
"Go tell her!" My mother screams.
My brother stands up.
"You know what! I am going to go tell her something! I'm going to tell her that the toasting will be in three weeks, right after graduation! I don't care if you are part of my life or not! I don't care if I own this bakery or not! I'm marrying Becki, and there's nothing you can do about it, Mama!"
Graham slams the backdoor as he leaves.
"I guess that leaves just you, Peeta," Mama says as she turns to me. "Maybe you'll let me help you choose a girl who deserves to be a part of this family!"
I can't help but wonder what girl would want to be a part of this family.