Chapter 6: Fresh Off the Train

The morning after I touched myself in my bed while thinking of Peeta, I am over at the countertop in our meager kitchen, smoking some leftover meat to prepare a stew for tonight's dinner. The cooking gives me something to do, a way to prevent my thoughts from wandering back to Peeta and the revelation that I….. desire him.

In this aim, I largely fail.

I hear the lifting of the latch, and then Prim bustles in from where she's been in the backyard tending to her goat, Lady. Her sparkling blue eyes are curious.

"Katty, I think I just saw Peeta Mellark wandering around a ways up the street…." She tells me. She smiles coyly. "He must be looking for you."

I try not to let my face burn as hot as the roast I am preparing, though there is almost nothing I can do to keep my heart from leaping in my chest. On the outside, I frown in confusion. "Peeta? What's he doing all the way out here?" Smoothing down my skirts, I hurry over to the front door and peer outside. Sure enough, about a quarter-mile up the road, there is a moptop of blonde hair that I would recognize even from this distance.

I bustle out onto our front porch. "Peeta!" I call.

The figure turns at the sound of his name, and dashes towards us. "Katniss!" he responds once we're within speaking distance.

As soon as he draws near, I feel both of my hands go to my mouth in horror. "Oh, Snow…. What happened to your face?" Tentatively, I reach out a finger to touch the angry red welt forming above his right eye.

Peeta appears uncertain for a moment before finally coming clean. "My mother. Rolling pins would be her weapon of choice in the Games."

I stare. "She walloped you? What for?"

"What do you think?"

I bite my lip apologetically. "Oh, Peeta, I'm so sorry…."

"It's not your fault," he cuts across me firmly. "I think she was more upset that I spoke to my Aunt Rooba than the fact that I even went down to the Seam with you."

Softly, I take his hand. "Come inside," I entreat. "Mother can get you fixed up."

Mother seems all too happy to have a patient, though even she lets out a hiss at what she finds as she studies the welt. She plucks something out, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. "Splinter," she identifies. She nods to Prim. "Witch hazel." My sister dutifully passes her the antiseptic. Peeta grits his teeth at the sting but doesn't cry out. I, on the other hand, am pacing like an angry tiger in a cage. How dare this Witch think she can lay a hand on such a sweet boy! The rage I harbor is so all-encompassing, I am almost tempted to march all the way across the district just to give the hell-devil a piece of my mind.

There is even one gash open enough that Mother insists on giving Peeta two stitches. He allows it, then stands once she finishes.

"Come on by the Friday after next, and I should be able to take the stitches out by then," Mother instructs.

"Much obliged, ma'am. I'll be sure to pay you in bread soon as I'm able."

Mother smiles softly. "That would be fine, Peeta."

My attention is brought away from my handsome friend when Prim tugs on my sleeve. "What is it, Primrose?"

"Katty, didn't you say that you would take Lady down to the Goat Man so we could get her a baby goat?"

Yes, I did promise her that. Lady has been quite lucrative in providing us milk, and it's been our hope that a kid would eventually give us even more. To do that, we would have to take Lady down to the Goat Man's pen by the East Entrance to Abernathy Mine so she can…. fornicate. A rather naughty image of Peeta and me on my bed pops into my brain and I have to quickly banish it.

I find myself lacing my fingers through Peeta's again. "You wanna come knock up Prim's goat with us?" The terminology flies right over my baby sister's head, but Peeta turns cherry red even while he laughs.

"Really?"

I shrug.

"Well, Dad did give me some time off so I could come get fixed up…. Yeah, sounds like fun!" He giggles, and I join in.

Primrose frowns. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, precious," I tell her. "Run round back of the house and collect Lady." She beams and scampers away.

"Oh, and Katniss, if…. if you would stop by the apothecary also," Mother asks me. "I'm low on a few things in my stock. Here's a list." She hands it to me.

My face clouds over slightly. Of all the places I have to go to make my rounds, the apothecary is my least favorite, for some obvious reasons. "Looks like we have errands to run." I turn to Peeta, giving a jerk of my head. "Come on."

With Lady tied to a simple piece of rope, Prim skips ahead guiding her pet along, while Peeta and I mosey on along behind them. My hands are bunching up the folds of my blue Reaping dress until they're hopelessly creased.

Finally, I let out in a whisper, "How often does your mother beat you?"

Peeta studies me for a moment, judges that he can trust me, and answers, "Not often. She just can have a bit of a temper, is all."

"That's no excuse," I whisper fiercely.

Peeta sighs, dipping his head. "No. It isn't."

"Why haven't you ever called the Peacekeepers?"

"It would only be a band-aid on the problem."

"I can't believe that; there are laws here in Twelve against domestic abuse…"

"True, but not very strong or easily enforced. If Dad, my brothers and I turned her in, she'd probably be kept in the stocks for a day or two and then sent right back to us. Besides, Dad's always thought the threat of leaving her is more effective in calming her down."

I blink in shock. "Your dad's threatened to leave her?" The Baker's never seemed like the kind of man who would resort to even idle threats.

Something passes over Peeta's face that I can't quite read, but he nods. "He did it once too. We were small, younger than Prim, just started school. Dad rounded us all up and we stayed at his brother's for over a week. It was enough to really shake her up that she came round and begged him to take her back."

I wrinkle my nose, guessing how the story ends. "I wouldn't have."

Peeta chuckles. "I think it worked…. for a while. She was calm for the next several months after that."

We're almost at the Slag Heap just beyond the East Entrance. I've never been in there, but I've heard tales about its counterpart out by the West Entrance, the one near where Daddy died. The West Entrance Slag Heap is where many young people like Peeta and I go to…. fuck….. As soon as I think the word, I turn pink, stealing a glance at the striking boy beside me; he doesn't appear to notice.

Prim seems disappointed that we have to drop Lady off; the Goat Man reassures us that Lady will be ready for return within a couple of nights.

"We'll see if anything…. takes," he says to me. Once again, the innuendo flies right over Prim's head, but Peeta and I both blush.

Heading back up the path, I make a point of studying Mother's shopping list to avoid looking at the Slag Heap by the East Entrance. "We have to stop at the apothecary next. It's out of our way – maybe not for you, but…."

"I'll walk with you," Peeta promises. "I know where it is, by the train station?" I nod. "It's not far from the Bakery."

I smile at him gratefully.

After crossing the district, my feet are starting to drag, but I usher Peeta and Prim through the side alley to the back door. Peeta frowns hard. "Why can't we enter through the front?"

"You'll see," I note dryly. I firmly knock on the fading green wood, until finally a man with blonde hair and a hard face answers. Uncle Waylon, my mother's brother.

"What do you want, girl?" he sneers. Wordlessly, my face an impassive mask, I hand him Mother's shopping list. He peruses it with a frown, then sighs. "Wait here." He slams the door in our faces; we can hear a few noises from inside.

A while later, my uncle is back, thrusting over to me a bundle of medicines and remedies. I pay him in what little coin I had left saved up. My uncle looks like he wants to throw it down.

"I don't want your dirty money!" he spits. But he takes the payment all the same, before once again slamming the door in our faces.

Peeta shakes his head as we emerge from the alley into the street. "Whoooo….. what an unpleasant fella!"

I snort. "Yeah. He's our uncle. My mother's brother."

Peeta gawps. "He's your uncle?! He acted like he didn't know you! Uncle…. I would have expected a hug, or something."

I laugh bitterly. "Peeta, you don't hug disowned family members! My uncle and my grandparents cast Mother out when she married Daddy. It was quite a scandal."

Another unreadable expression passes over Peeta's face. "I've heard some about it," he concedes, but he doesn't divulge as to what.

I shrug. "Still….. it was very romantic."

Peeta smirks, eyeing me almost in fascination. "I've never taken you for the romantic type."

"Oh, I'm not," I insist, flushing fuschia. "But…. doing something for love is always the best reason to do anything, right?"

"True enough," Peeta nods.

In the shadow of Lucy Gray Baird train station, a locomotive whistle blasts loud and long. There is more activity happening on and around the platform than usual. I glance up into the heavens. It is a beautiful, early spring day, not a cloud in the sky, marred only by a lingering, dewey scent – evidence of last night's rainstorm.

Back by the station, a truck backfires, and there is rowdy cheering as a flatbed filled with white-plated officers comes rumbling by, heading in the direction of the Barracks.

Peeta nods. "Wet-behind-the-ears cadets, fresh off the trains."

"From where?" I wonder aloud. We haven't had a new batch of officers deployed to Twelve in over a year.

"The Academies in Two. Where else?" Peeta ponders.

A second truck passes by. As it does, I catch sight of a young man with flaming red hair standing up in the flatbed. Even from this slight distance, I can see his eyes – blue like Peeta's, though a deeper shade – lock onto me, studying me curiously. I stare right back, and the attractive Peackeeper smiles. He looks to be about 16 or 17 years old, so not much older than Gale. The gingered officer nods and smiles brilliantly at me just before the truck disappears up the street.

Peeta's light touch on my arm snaps me out of my thoughts. "Thanks for inviting me along, Katty."

I smile brightly at him. "You're welcome."

His face colors bashfully. "Can I walk you home?"

"May I walk you home?" I correct his grammar.

"Semantics," he waves away. Still, he adjusts. "So, may I? I…. I need to make up for leaving you in the lurch. After the Harvest Festival."

I smile gently, peering at him in amusement. "Won't it be out of your way?"

"No more than today has been for you," and he gallantly offers me his arm. Eyeing him with mirth, sizing him up, I finally accept, and Peeta escorts me and my sister like a gentleman all the way home.