Chapter 4

She could only hope he hadn't stumbled across a bottle of whiskey and completely forgotten her, or she'd be forced to spend the night in a barn. But after a few moments she heard a noise and looked up. Whistling a song through his thin lips, he strolled down the dark street, his hands buried deep in his worn out pants pockets.

"Finally..." Katniss breathed, rubbing her cold arms with her palms as she left her hiding place behind an old, gnarled maple tree. "Where's my purse?" she asked briskly, as it was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry, sweetheart, didn't see one," Haymitch answered, stopping in front of her and shrugging his shoulders.

"What? That's impossible, it must..."

Amused, he rolled his eyes, reaching into the inside pocket of his crumbled jacket and pulling out her outdated shoulder bag. Slowly, he swung it back and forth in front of her eyes. "This it?"

Impatient, she grabbed it from his hands.

"And now?" he asked, his eyes glinted with humour. "Will I get the promised bottle of liquor or shall we just say a kiss?"

Katniss's dark eyes flashed dangerously as she glared at him, ready to slap his face if he dared to touch her, but he just raised his palms reassuringly, laughing.

"I'll take the alcohol; I see you won't be bargained with."

"No," she snapped back.

"Well, see you tomorrow." He started walking down the dark road and her eyes longed for his warm, cozy jacket even if it looked like as if he had slept in it.

"Haymitch!" she called after him. "Can I have your jacket?"

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, tying her best not to shiver in her thin summer dress. "I'm frozen to the bone."

The man stopped and glanced questioningly at her. Finally he shrugged, deciding that she looked a little bit blue around the lips. Slowly, he took off his jacket, extracted his flask from the inside pocket, and handed the garment over.

Gratefully, the young woman reached for it and pulled the jacket on eagerly until the disgusting smell of mothballs tickled her nose.

"Good enough for you?" he asked amused, watching her changing face expression.

"Yeah, thanks..." Katniss managed to bring over her stiff lips while he approached her and slowly closed the two jacket buttons, finally stepping back and looking closely at his work. "Could have been made for you."

The girl took a deep breath and swore to hit him with a stone if he kept making fun of her.

"Adapted to the country life?" he asked as he turned around, putting his flask away and starting to walk down the dark, lonely street.

"Yes," Katniss lied, staying a few steps behind him.

"Some people here are quite eccentric, not easy to get along with."

"Really?" she gave him a quick sidelong glance, hoping he'd get the hint.

"When I first got back, I had to get used to everything all over again…"

Katniss bit her tongue; she wouldn't fall into the trap and ask him where he'd been. She wasn't that stupid.

An animal howled from a distance and she flinched involuntarily: it sounded like a lynx, not too far away from them, waiting in the undergrowth for his late supper. "Okay, where have you been?" she asked, hoping to distract herself.

"South America."

She rolled her eyes and fell back a few steps. "Oh, really?" she scoffed. "And what did you do there?" The girl wasn't sure she really wanted to hear the answer.

"Digging for gold."

Katniss snorted. "Yeah, sure..."

Haymitch smirked, not offended by her mocking words. "When I was young, I wanted out of this place, so I went to Alaska and found work on an oil rig." he drawled. "It was a good time, with good money; but unfortunately, alcohol was forbidden, which didn't do it for me."

Silently, Katniss moved closer to walk beside him, slowly forgetting about the wildcat.

"Later, I went back to the mainland. I thought as a gold miner I'd get rich quick." He laughed quietly and shook his head at his former stupidity. At that time he'd been stubborn and impertinent as hell, always knowing better than anybody else, running into trouble on more than one occasion when he wouldn't take well-meant advice.

"Did you get rich?" Katniss asked, pulling the jacket closer around her slender body.

"No," he said firmly. "I came back with empty hands, sure my girl would be waiting for me..." Haymitch paused, barely believing his own stupidity back then. "Well, to make a long story short, she preferred another guy. Someone with a lot of money."

"Oh."

"So I left the country again, heading to South America, looking for gold on my own." Both stopped as they reached the crossroad and Haymitch fell silent, looking up into the clear, cloudless evening sky, before his attention switched back to Katniss. "Digging for gold can be a dangerous addiction, you know, just like the devil alcohol."

Fascinated, she listened to his words while her eyes followed his, up to the endless, glittering stars.

"But in the end, it paid off," he said slowly. "I was lucky and found several ounces of gold; and I was smart enough not to whore it away."

The girl flinched at his harsh words. "And why did you come back?" Katniss asked hesitantly.

Haymitch kicked a grey pebble before answering. "No idea." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I was homesick or I hoped to win my girl back; who knows?"

No longer feeling the cold, she wanted to know more. "And did you win her back?"

His gaze wandered off into the distance and stayed there as he continued. "Her much older husband died and she became the richest widow in the district. Soon afterwards, she knocked on my door, asking if we could try again…" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes found hers. "But I didn't want any more."

Katniss swallowed hard. "I would never have guessed..."

Snorting, he pulled his hip flask out of his pocket, only to figure out that it was already empty. "Every drunkard's got a hard-luck story, sweetheart," he said humorlessly. "And what about you; do you want to tell me your sad life story, or should we wait till tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" she asked, slightly irritated, until she remembered the liquor.

"And bring my jacket back," Haymitch fell back into his usual teasing tone. "If you wash it, I wouldn't mind."

"Don't get your hopes up!" she snapped back.

But he just laughed, raising his hand in farewell, before he turned on his heel and walked slowly down the street which led to his house, and Katniss wondered if he always had to have the last word.