Chapter 2
Her old rusty Ford looked exactly like the house she'd just parked in front of it. Katniss was sure that it had once been beautiful but now trees and hedges had grown wild, and her gaze wandered from the neglected front yard to the loose shingles, and further to the peeling white paint on the wood cladding.
Not unlike the house of her late grandparents in which she and her family now lived; but while this house could be lovely, even beautiful, that of her family would always be little better than an over-sized dog kennel.
Katniss sighed and opened the driver's door with a loud squeak. Fickle fate had decided that Haymitch Abernathy was this year's winner of the annual Scout lottery. In totally disbelief, Effie Trinket had compared the lottery numbers again and again, countless times, until she had given up in despair.
Finally, she had delegated the honor of congratulating the lucky winner to Katniss, and just as one month before, the girl banged her fists against the front door and shouting his name loudly. But today, the door stayed locked and nothing could be heard except for the rustle of spring leaves in the wind.
Cursing, knowing that the odds were never in her favour, she walked down the steps and looked past the garage; she could see a modern pick-up which looked like it had not been moved since the last snow. So the owner must be at home the girl thought as she walked soundlessly through the high grass, reaching the rear side of the house.
Soundless as if she were hunting for prey, the young woman walked up the steps of the porch and knocked on the back door. "Mr. Abernathy?" Katniss held her breath, listening for footsteps, but was only able to hear her own blood rushing in her ears. "It's Katniss Everdeen from the local Scouts, Mr. Abernathy, are you at home?"
Nothing.
Katniss glanced through a large dusty window – and jumped as if she'd been struck by lightning. Her eyes had caught sight of an unconscious man, lying face-down on the wooden floor.
"No!" The girl screamed in horror, and before she knew what she was doing, she picked up a rusty spade from the porch and flung it with full force against the window.
The glass broke into countless pieces and without hesitation, Katniss stepped through the broken window into the house, her thick, old leather jacket protecting her from the razor-sharp pieces of glass.
"Mr. Abernathy?" She shouted his name, and in two long steps she was by his side, turning the unconscious man onto his back while calling frantically his name as she started with trembling fingers a heart massage.
Haymitch decided that something was different than usual; it was as if a woman's voice was shouting his name from a great distance, while at the same time somebody was dragging at his clothes and beating against his chest.
Very slowly, he opened one eye until he saw a girl through the narrow slit. It had to be a dream, the last time a female had approached him was years ago.
Full of despair, she reached out, grasped his face in both hands and pressed her lips against his. Desperately hoping that a mouth-to-mouth resuscitation would save his life.
Whichever brand of whiskey was responsible for this sweet dream, Haymitch decided to buy up the entire stock. To better enjoy the lovely dream, he opened his mouth, searching for her tongue, while his heavy hands grabbed her slender hips…
Bam!
Before he knew what was happening, she'd given him a painful slap right across the pale face.
"Are you crazy?" Katniss hissed disgusted, wiping her full lips with the back of her hand.
"Shit!" Haymitch groaned, reaching for his throbbing cheek, wondering if the girl usually split firewood with her bare hands, while his dull eyes found the broken window.
Slowly, he raised an eyebrow at the young woman who was still kneeling beside him. "Start talking, sweetheart," he drawled, pushing the unwashed hair out of his face. "But go slowly. Who are you, what are you doing in my house, and why is the glass broken?"
With a quick movement, Katniss got to her feet and straightened her Scout neckerchief. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
"Congratulations, Mr. Abernathy; you won first prize in the annual Scout lottery." Katniss held out her right hand to him, ready to shake hands with the lucky winner.
"That's why you broke my window and licked my face?"
Katniss stared back at him in disbelief. "That was mouth-to-mouth resuscitation! I thought you were having a heart attack..."
"Do you always kiss that badly?" he challenged her, not bothering to hide his wry smile.
Suddenly, the penny dropped and Katniss understood why Miss Trinket had left her the honor of congratulating him.
"Well, let's make this brief, Mr. Abernathy; your batch won." Katniss reached for Haymitch's calloused hand, who was still sitting on the floor and didn't look as if he would be getting up any time soon, and shook it resolutely.
"I'd like to congratulate you on winning a trip to South America." The young woman said as quickly as possible.
"South America?" Haymitch bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing. "Who came up with that crap?"
The young woman paled in anger, and spoke with controlled effort. "Where is the batch? I have to check the winning number."
Haymitch snorted, and waved his hand around the mess in his large living room. "Good luck!" he mocked.
Scowling, she slipped her long braid off her shoulder and strolled forward, looking pointedly around; dust, papers, dirty clothes and empty whiskey bottles filled the dark room.
"You should look for a new cleaner," Katniss said dryly as she wrinkled her nose, searching for the batches while she shifted books and manuscripts on the sticky coffee table.
"Are you volunteering?" Haymitch asked snidely, giving her a smug grin.
Katniss didn't take the bait and breathed out in relief as she found the batches under some old, dusty magazines. Quickly, she picked out the winning ticket and held it out to the lucky winner.
Groaning, Haymitch rose from the wooden floor, rubbing his stiff back with both hands.
Katniss advanced a step. "Yours."
"Keep it," Haymitch replied, carefully examining the broken glass on the floor.
"You don't understand: you won. The trip is worth at least $20,000; you'll travel to Machu Pichu…"
"Already been," he interrupted her.
Katniss snorted. The man would probably say he'd already been to the moon just to annoy her.
"Anyway, the trip belongs to you."
"And I'm giving it to you."
"I can't accept it, our statutes say..."
"Fuck it!" Haymitch turned towards her. "Are you always so boringly correct?"
Katniss face burned while she gave him her sourest look. Given all the rubbish which was lying around, the girl could only hope she hadn't caught an illness from the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
"Okay," she spat. "I'll take the damn ticket and ask Miss Trinket what to do with it."
Slightly amused, he glanced at her and the girl had the uncomfortable feeling that he was able to read every one of her thoughts.
"You'll be hearing from us, Mr. Abernathy."
"See you soon, sweetheart," he called after her.
The heavy front door slammed shut and Haymitch had to admit that this new member of their small village community had spunk.
...
One day later, there was a knock on his door, and Haymitch wondered if somehow his house had turned into a dovecote. Nothing else could explain so many visits in so few days. Still wearing his oldest pajamas and carrying a bottle of whiskey in his hand, he shuffled down the entrance hall.
"Hello Haymitch." Effie chirped happily.
He groaned, leaning casually against the wooden doorframe. "What do you want, Trinket?"
"No manners, as always." she sniffed. "When a lady calls you should invite her inside."
"Which lady?" he challenged her.
Effie crossed her arms over her chest and pouted with her bright red-colored lips. "I remember a time when you couldn't get me into your house fast enough."
He shrugged in his easy, nonchalant manner, and took a long drink of whiskey before answering.
"Nope."
Totally annoyed by his behaviour, she stamped her spiky high heel. "How dare you turn down the prize? Do you have no shame? God knows I don't expect any miracles, but is just an ounce of courtesy too much to ask for?"
Laughing, Haymitch leaned forward, his warm breath touching her cold skin. "Courtesy? Eff, do you even know how to write that word?"
"Katniss won't accept the prize," she hissed. "The Scouts will officially accept the win as a generous donation."
Haymitch took another sip from his bottle before nodding and toasting her.
"Great." he mocked.
Effie pursed her lips before continuing. "As thanks for your gracious donation, I hereby invite you to our annual spring ball, where the mayor will honor you –"
"Forget it!" Haymitch spat.
"Put on your best suit, darling." Effie acted as if she hadn't heard his last words. "Katniss will pick you up at seven; and don't you dare tease that poor girl again. Or I'll force you to dance with me at the ball."