After sundown, I walk to the house next to mine and am let in by Peeta.
"Katniss, thanks for coming!" Peeta says.
"Happy to be invited! Gale can be..." I search for a word other than treasonous, "outspoken at times." I finally say after a long pause.
"You say that like it's a bad thing. It's a good thing, at least as far as I'm concerned." Peeta replies
Portia looks like she's ready to chime in but instead continues to use her tablet.
"Not everyone feels that way though." Portia reminds Peeta
"True, but how is one to lead if they don't solicit honest criticism and advice? I once heard that a leader hears a hundred voices telling him that he is the greatest man in the world and that he must listen carefully to hear the one voice that tells him he is not." Peeta says.
"Who said that?" I ask.
"Harry Truman." He replies.
Harry Truman?
"He was a President of The United States of America during the 20th Century," Peeta says, seemingly sensing my lack of knowledge.
"I don't remember learning about that in History class," I reply.
"Yeah, I don't imagine it's in the curriculum for students in the Districts. Can't have them learning about democracy, can we? Even though the United States wasn't a true democracy, more of a Democratic Republic, but that's just splitting hairs..." Peeta says, trailing off. "Anyway, I wonder where Gale is."
As if on cue there's a knocking at the door. Peeta goes over to answer it.
"Gale! How are you?" Peeta says cheerfully while shaking Gale's hand.
"I'm good," Gale replies. I can feel the distrust radiating off him.
"How did your family enjoy Parcel Day?"
"Oh, Posy is having a field day with the chocolates."
"Good. I'm glad." Peeta says, "can I get you something to eat or drink?"
"I'm fine," Gale says, not wanted to accept anything from a Capitolite.
"Katniss, would you like anything?" Peeta asks, not missing a beat.
"I'll have a glass of water," I reply
Peeta walks over to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator, and produces two bottles of water, before handing me one and taking one for himself.
"So, Gale, tell me about life in District 12," Peeta says, sitting down.
Gale begins to talk in excruciating detail about working in the coal mines, about having the light slowly drain out of you through back-breaking labor, day after day, week after week, year after year. He doesn't spare any details. His disdain for the Capitol becomes more apparent with every word. He talks about the pain of having lost his father and now having to labor in the same mines that killed him. I'm worried he'll say something radical that will destroy the sympathy Peeta had for him.
Peeta listens intently, taking in Gale's words. To my surprise, he's not losing Peeta's sympathy, he's gaining more. Once Gale us finished Peeta nods and then speaks up softly, "I know you both lost your father in the same mining accident. I can't express with words how sorry I am for your loss. I know what it's like to lose a parent, and I understand completely if you blame the Capitol for your loss. I can't say I wouldn't if I were in your position. The Capitol didn't have adequate safety protocols in place. Do you feel like enough is being done to avoid another accident like the one that took your father?"
"I don't think so," I say, "Gale would know better than me, but we had to take a tour of the mines every year for school since we were little and I can't recall seeing anything done differently."
Peeta nods and looks to Gale.
"Katniss is right, even the few Capitol mandated safety regulations that are in place aren't followed. If anything it's gotten worse over the years."
"I ask because I wrote up an Executive Order that would tighten safety regulations for mines not just in Twelve but also in other mines in other Districts a number of months ago. We were planning to put it on the President's desk along with other workspace safety reforms. I'll bring it up the next time I speak with him." Peeta says, "When am I next speaking with the President, Portia?"
"Tomorrow. Your Grandfather would like to speak with you and Katniss around noon. His secretary mentioned that he wanted to follow up with you both about the interview with Caesar earlier today."
That answer seems to satisfy Peeta, but I can't help but be overcome with a nagging feeling of dread.
We talk for a few more hours before Gale has to leave so he can get up for work in the morning. Peeta smiles, shakes his hand, and walks him out.
After Gale leaves Peeta gives me a reassuring smile and tells me not to worry about tomorrow.
I smile back; what else can I do?