Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
Kaleidoscope, pt 25
"They can't just take him," Wren argues, hands balled up as she looks around the room for agreement. "That-that's kidnapping!"
"They can do what they want," Briar snaps, teeth grinding. "They're the goddamn Capitol, remember?"
Wren's breathing speeds up and she looks to Gale, hope he has some brilliant plan shining in her eyes.
He doesn't though. He doesn't have a plan or the energy to lie to her.
Gale never thought he'd have to make the decision not to fight, the decision to sacrifice one of his children to the jaws of the Capitol to keep from hurting the others. Here he is though, doing just that.
When he'd been younger he'd dreamed of battling the Capitol. Setting fire to all the bastards that killed his dad and kept his family at the cusp of starvation.
Years and children have dimmed his fire though, given him hard learned lessons that there are no winners against the Capitol. They either win or they destroy you. Sometimes both.
"Maybe papa will think of something," Daisy offers, taking Wren's hand and squeezing it.
She forces a smile, clearly doesn't believe the lie, but a Wren needs what little hope she can get. Even if she doesn't believe it either.
"Don't be dense Da-" Briar starts to chastise her sister, but stops, bites her tongue, takes a breath and shakes her head.
She's been reigning herself in the past few years, softening her words, especially towards Daisy. Sometimes her sharp edges puncture through though.
"Papa is just as powerless as the rest of us," she finally says, exhaustion in her eyes.
Sage frowns, thinking, crosses his arms and glances at Miles.
"Maybe you can fail the physical? How hard can it be?"
Madge and Miles exchange a glance. Clearly they've already considered this.
"They just check vitals, do blood work, the rest is based off physical education marks," Madge answers.
Miles sighs. "And, you know, I'm a peak physical specimen, so no dice."
For a minute Sage just stares at him, trying to process what he's said, then he groans.
"Are you joking?" He gives Miles an exasperated look. "Now?"
Miles shrugs, gives him a half smile.
He's as upset as anyone, maybe more, it's his life being torn up after all, but he's a tough boy. Even if it kills him, he'll hold it together for all of them.
"Nothing else to do."
Sage stares at him for a moment, quietly studying Miles' brittle expression. He knows his brother better than anyone, what this is doing to him, and he'll know what he needs to hear.
Finally, Sage smiles sadly back.
"Yeah."
A few silent minutes tick by, the fire dimming until Miles stokes it a bit, then Daisy stands and rushes at him, flings her arms around him.
She doesn't say anything, just hugs him tightly and cries.
"Papa will think of something," Wren says, trying to convince herself, nodding before looking at Gale. "Right dad?"
He can't tell her a lie even if it's all she's got to cling to, but he can't break her heart, he doesn't have it in him.
Madge forces a fragile smile, but offers no answers. She knows there isn't one.
Instead of saying anything, he just pulls Wren to his side, presses a kiss to her hair and wishes he didn't have to choose between sweet lies and painful truths.
#######
Madge watches as Daisy mends a hole in Miles' shirt, accidentally pricks her finger.
"Stab myself, perfect, lesson learned," Miles jokes, pretending to take notes on the palm of his hand.
Daisy shoots him an annoyed look, but after a second she rolls her eyes.
"Just shut up and pay attention," she tells him, her expression softening. "This is important, mom and I-we won't...we aren't going to be…"
For a moment she tries to get the rest of the sentence out, but nothing comes.
She'd decided, days before, she was going to teach him to patch his own clothes. It was a necessary skill, and not one he'd ever bothered with. He had Madge and Daisy, after all.
"He needs to learn," she'd explained, before adding softly, "I need to give him something back."
"Daisy…"
She shook her head.
"He's always been there for me, standing up or me, even when he was too little to do anything…" Tears had started spilling down her face as she swatted at them. "I've always just been a-a mess, but Miles never cared."
Pulling her into a hug, Madge felt her eyes begin to burn.
Daisy would probably miss Miles the most, out of all of the kids.
He was her best friend, her confidant, her protector.
"He's the only person that's never made me feel like a burden...and now…" she'd pulled back, smeared tears across her face. "God I'm selfish."
"No-"
"I am," Daisy cuts her off, sniffing. "Miles life is going to get ripped up and all I can think is...how much I'm going to miss him."
Madge took her hand, gave it a squeeze.
"If that's selfish then I'm selfish too."
Because she's woken everyday since the talk with his teacher and wondered what it's going to be like when he's gone, what she's going to do without her goofy baby boy.
Daisy's face crumpled again as a fresh wave of tears came, and she wrapped her arms around Madge.
"I'm in good company then."
Shaking away the memory, fearful of more tears, Madge looks back down at the scarf she'd been knitting.
Green, Miles' favorite color.
"Here," Miles tells Daisy, eager to get past the fragile moment. He's never been comfortable with them. "Let's see if I've got it."
Carefully, he takes the needle and thread, begins stitching it himself.
It's a bit clumsy, bunching up at points, but better than Madge had done on her first attempts.
"There," he proudly holds the shirt out, grinning. "Expertly done if I do say so myself."
Daisy snorts, takes it back from him and examines it.
"It's not...bad," she agrees. "For a first try."
He shoots her a disgusted look. "Are you going to give me homework?"
"No, but-"
"Momma! Momma!" Sawyer comes running in, leaps into Daisy's lap. "Play wit'us!"
Sighing, Daisy shifts Sawyer on her lap and shakes her head.
"Baby, I can't. I'm teaching Uncle Miles-"
She doesn't get a chance to finish before Miles scoops Sawyer up, swings her around as she squeals.
"I'm all learned up," he laughs before he spots Scout, hovering in the corner uncertain if they're interrupting important adult things.
Tossing Sawyer over his shoulder, he spins until he's beside Scout, grabbing her up too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs.
Making a show of struggling, he carries them across the kitchen, out the back door into the yard before he flips them over and sets them on their feet.
"Tag! You're it!" He taps them both on the head and runs off, vaulting over the little garden fence and past a bored looking Goat.
Sawyer immediately chases after him. She grabs Scout by the hand and drags her along, making her help her over the fence before pulling her over, tumbling into the dirt before getting up and chasing after Miles.
Madge laughs as she watches through the screen door as Miles perches himself on a low hanging branch, teases the girls as they attempt to crawl up the trunk after him.
"He's gonna miss them," Daisy says as she comes up beside her, the shirt they'd been mending gripped in her hand.
Madge nods, her chest aching. "Yeah."
She feels Daisy wrap an arm around her shoulder, rests her head against Madge's.
As much as they'll miss Miles, he'll miss them more. He's going into this alone. It's a foreign concept to him, and Madge hates the Capitol more for forcing the isolation on him.
Solitude had been her life growing up, but none of her children have ever experienced it. The fact that it's being placed on Miles is cruel beyond imagination.
She shakes the thought away, blinks out the tears forming in her eyes.
They haven't got much time left with Miles, and she won't waste what precious few moments they do have crying and adding to his burden.
As if sensing her sudden resolve, Daisy pushes the door open and rushes out, jumping from the porch just as Miles is making another lap away from the girls.
She tackles him down, tumbling into the upturned earth from the garden, and encourages the girls to tickle him.
Madge stays just in the doorway, watching them laugh, trying to commit the sound and the image of their happiness to memory.
Daisy and the girls are giving Miles something much more important than a skill.
They're giving him a few more happy memories, and Madge can't imagine anything more precious.
#######
"Daisy and I've been reading books about the civil servants requirements," Briar tells Gale, trying and failing to sound off handed as they check the snares a few weeks later.
She'd never admit it, but she desperately wants to be an optimist. Despite harsh reality surrounding her, she wants there to be a happy ending.
Gale nods, already knowing there were no good answers in those books. Madge and Miles had already poured over them ages ago, with Abernathy and Matilda attempting to help.
"This one talks about the exams," Abernathy had grunted, holding out the old library book to Madge beside him on the couch.
She shook her head sadly. "We already looked at that."
When he'd gotten back from the Capitol and heard what had happened, he'd rushed over, eager to help.
Sifting through ancient books was about the only useful thing he'd found to do. His Capitol contact was apparently useless.
"I tried seeing-I asked that damn bird if she could help any," he grumbled, admitting he had no magic escape. "Said she was only good for getting people in, not out."
Not that Gale had expected much, it was Abernathy after all, but he'd held out a little hope for a miracle.
"Someone's written something rude in this one," Matilda had sighed, handing a book off to Miles.
Whatever it was, Miles had gotten a good laugh out of it before tossing it on the growing pile.
None of the books offered anything in the end. They were good as kindling, and not much else.
Gale doesn't mention any of that to Briar. The distraction, however useless, is good for her. She needs something constructive to do.
Briar sighs, glares at the empty snare.
"Nothing. They've got those rules written so tightly you'd have better luck swimming in a dry creek than getting around them."
She makes a frustrated noise, kicks an acorn and watches it hit a tree before bouncing uselessly into the undergrowth.
"It's not right!" She begins swatting at her eyes, voice getting thick. "Don't they ruin our lives enough? They gotta take people and rip up families more than they already do?"
Apparently, but there's no point in saying what they both already know. The Hunger Games are proof their government doesn't care about destroying families.
Gale runs his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head as she barrels on.
"I just-I wanna hit someone! I wanna do something-anything!" A few tears slide down her cheeks and drop onto her shirt. "It's-it feels like we're just giving up. I don't want to give up on him, but I-what else can we do?"
Taking a breath, Gale forces a smile, feels his eyes burn.
"I don't…" he shakes his head, runs his hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears that have slipped out. "I don't know."
It's not giving up, it's strategy, and as cold as that sounds, it's all they can do.
Bile rises in Gale's throat. His son has been turned into a bad hand in a game of cards, and they're folding. It's what's best for everyone but Miles.
Briar's breath shudders in her chest and she looks at Gale, tears still clinging to her eyelashes.
"We could do something," she finally says, voice muffled and thick, "if we didn't have so many kids."
Gale chuckles.
They have Wren, Jess, the twins, and Sage's new baby, only a few months off. So many kids.
"But we do."
And Miles loves all of them, he wouldn't barter for his safety at the cost of theirs.
Words failing him as they always do, Gale reaches out, he pulls her into a hug.
There's nothing they can do, nothing Mikes or Abernathy or even Madge's dad can do. It's a losing game, no matter how badly they wish it weren't.
They stay there, the chilly wind blowing dead leaves and dry grass around their feet, both hoping for an escape that won't come.
Finally, Briar pulls back, wipes the tear tracks from her eyes, and forces a smiles, eyes still shimmering.
"Let's find dinner."
That's all there is to do.
#######
"Where do you think they'll send him?" Sage asks, when he comes by after work one evening, Jessamine in tow.
"Abilene needs a break," he'd admitted as Jessamine began building a blanket fort on the couch. "She's been a little nightmare since the baby was born."
Madge started to tell him she's just jealous of the attention the baby is getting, but didn't get a chance.
"So she's channeling her Auntie Bri?" Miles asked, grinning.
Sage rolled his eyes.
Miles had left after that, off to a party deep in the Seam with his friends. Sage had looked a bit disappointed, and Madge sensed he may have been planning an outing for the three of them. He hadn't said anything though, refusing to spoil his brother's evening plans.
"Just-I've been wondering," Sage adds. "Papa said it's a bit random, but…"
Madge shrugs. It ultimately doesn't matter. Wherever he goes, it'll be too far.
Sniffling, willing herself not to start crying, Madge shakes her head, voice cracking.
"I don't know."
Sage's expression softens and he sighs.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I just-sometimes I just think about it." He toys with the rag laying on the table. "He's-he'll be okay wherever they send him, you know?"
Because Miles makes friends as easily as breathing. Whatever distant place they drop him in, he'll make friends, make a life. He's resilient.
Sage rubs his hand over his face, glances around her, to the living room and Jessamine's blanket fort.
"I keep thinking, what if this happens with one of my kids? Daisy's girls?" He blinks, eyes bright. "Miles getting taken away-it kills me every time I think about it. He's my baby brother and I can't do anything, and then I think of the kids and…"
Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a long breath.
"It just eats me up, thinking about it, worrying. Once is terrible, but if it happens again…"
Reaching out, Madge takes his hand. He's got too much of her anxiety in him, twisting him up, wearing him out. Even if his worries are well founded, based in the cruelest of realities, she can't bear to watch it.
"Sage, there are a thousand things to worry about, the Reaping, the Mines, getting caught sneaking out past the fences…" she lists off things she's worried about over the years, forces a smile, squeezes his hand. "You can't let them steal your todays worrying about a possible tomorrow."
It's how they beat them down, keep them too worn and weary to even consider better lives.
Madge spent years knotted up, worrying about what was coming, what might come, but all the worrying in the world hadn't kept anything from happening. It didn't keep Miles from getting selected.
She doesn't want Sage wasting years worrying. It's nothing more than the Capitol snatching away happiness, ruining more lives.
"I know." He forces the tiniest of smiles.
Something crashes in the living room, then a loud cry starts up.
Sage sighs, pushes the chair from the table and starts for the living room.
"I've got enough to worry about in the here and now anyways."
Madge snorts. He certainly does.
#######
"I'll figure something out," Miles has told them, repeatedly, every time they bring up the impending interview, as days stretched into weeks and months reached the warm summer days.
"He's going to bomb the exams," Daisy had warned them, when she'd come by to pick up the girls one afternoon after work.
"That's his brilliant plan?" Gale grumbled. The fact that he thinks that'll work should be a sure sign he's not as bright as they think.
"His grades have been sliding," Madge added, when she saw Gale's doubtful expression. "He's building a pattern."
Daisy shifted a sleeping Sawyer on her hip, sighing.
"It won't work. I already told him," she told them. "Papa and I talked about it. He said the commissioners have seen everything, and the fact that the grades are monitored over a lifetime..."
"It's a catch 22," Madge agreed.
Gale didn't know what that was, but it sounded like bureaucratic bullshit.
"It is," Madge confirms, when evening finally rolls around and he asks her about it. "If you're smart enough to want to bomb the exams, then you're smart enough to pass."
Which is bullshit. It's confusing and inescapable, just how they like it.
Still, Miles hadn't been deterred.
"I'm not giving up without a fight," he tells Gale and Sage the Sunday before his exam, a balmy afternoon as they're working on repairing the cradle.
"Just...be careful," Sage warns him. "If they see you trying something…"
Miles grins.
"Don't be such a worry wart. I'm as smooth as little Lawrence's backside." He pats the baby cradled in his arms on the bottom. "They won't suspect a thing."
Sage snorts.
"Yeah, smooth and full of shit."
Rolling his eyes, Gale leans down to help Sage lift the cradle, but stops when Miles hands the baby off to him.
"You carry him." He grins. "Let the prime specimen do the heavy lifting. Your creaky old man joints can't handle this."
Sage stifles a laugh and Gale shoots a filthy look his way.
The boys hoist the cradle and carry it inside, past the new stove and a discarded rag doll that nearly trips Miles.
"Jess! Pick up your toys!" Sage shouts, grinning as Jessamine runs into the room and scoops up her doll before launching herself at Gale.
"Be careful, Jess," Miles mock warns her. "Poppy's fragile. One good hit and his hip'll pop clean outta its socket."
She makes a face, puts her little hands on her hips.
"Nu-uh!" Jessamine shakes her head, dark hair flying as she grins. "Poppy's tough!"
Scooping her up, Gale gives her a scratchy kiss, causing her to squeal.
They set the repaired cradle down just as Abilene arrives, flour smeared in her hair and a bit of jam stuck to her dress.
"It looks so much better!" She tells them as she examines the bottom, no longer with a toddler foot sized hole in it. She gives Jessamine a sharp look. "And it'll stay that way, won't it young lady?"
"Yeah! 'Cause I not'a baby!" Jessamine cheerfully agrees.
Despite being exhausted, Abilene tries to coax both Gale and Miles into staying for dinner.
"I snuck a few rolls home," she tells them.
No small feat with her sharp eyed grandma monitoring everything in the bakery.
Tempting as it is, Gale shakes his head.
"Can't. We-uh-we have to get home," he explains, not wanting to get into the details.
She smiles, starts to offer again, but Sage gently cuts her off.
"Miles has his exam tomorrow."
Abilene frowns, not understanding.
"I have a curfew," Miles finally explains before shrugging. "They want me to have a 'full and complete night's rest', whatever that means."
According to Madge it doesn't mean anything. It's just another way to micromanage, keep their latest captives under their thumb and show, however pettily, that they're in charge.
Gale had wondered if they even enforce it, how, but Madge had assured him that even if they didn't come check Miles' bed, they'd know he was shirking their rules.
Much as he'd wanted to argue, she probably knew better than him what the Capitol would and wouldn't do, how far they'd go to enforce their will over something so stupid.
Abilene forces a smile.
"Well, then you can come over tomorrow."
"Only if you swipe some fresh rolls." Miles gives Jessamine's side a pinch. "And don't invite Auntie Bri. She'll eat them all."
Jessamine grins and pinched him back, and they get into a back and forth that only stops when Miles almost trips back into the cradle.
"We're leaving before we break something," Gale tells them as Miles makes faces over his shoulder at a giggling Jessamine.
It isn't until they're down the road, past the street marker, that Miles' grin slides off.
"You know what hurts the most?"
Gale frowns, squints over at him.
For a minute he thinks he's hearing things, because Miles doesn't say anything, just kicks a rock down the road a little ways. Then he lets out a long breath.
"They're gonna forget me."
For a moment Gale isn't sure who he's talking about, what, then it hits him.
The kids.
"I'll be like Uncle Rory. After a while, it'll be like I was never even here."
"Miles-"
"Don't," Miles cuts him off, voice too sharp, no lazy grin stretching on his face. "They're all so little-and when there's more?-I won't even be a memory."
Gale scowls. "You know we won't let that happen."
Miles just laughs, no warmth or humor in it.
"You can't stop it happening dad. Not anymore than we can stop the sun. It's just...it just will be." He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, curls tangling in his fingers. "Maybe it's for the best. It won't hurt them as much."
Gale starts to argue with him, almost grabs him by the arm and drags him to the woods so he can make him understand that he isn't dying. He's just going away….
Instead he stops, stares at Miles for a moment before sighing.
Going away, possibly-probably-forever, is as good as dying.
Miles isn't wrong. Come next summer when they take him, the girls and Lawrence will be too small to have formed true lasting memories of him. He'll be a shadow and a name, and, if they're lucky, a warm feeling.
He'll fade from their minds just like Gale's dad had for Vick, lose substance like Rory had.
They'll know he existed, but he'll be less than a memory and more of a ghost, haunting their parents and grandparents.
"It'll still hurt the rest of us," Gale finally reminds him, voice breaking.
Nodding, Miles sniffs, rubs his hand over his face and sighs.
"Yeah." He smiles, small and sad but genuine. "I just...I'm gonna miss being an uncle."
Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, Gale ruffles his hair, nods. "Yeah, I know."
#######
Madge is at her parents house, doing laundry for them, a job she'd assigned herself after old Mrs. Oberst died a few years prior, when she hears the soft tinkling of the piano.
It takes a moment, but then she recognizes the tune, Für Elise.
For a few minutes it continues before transitioning to a nocturne, then abruptly moves on.
The next song starts slow but the speed creeps up before dropping again, the notes growing harsh, though Madge doubts that's by design.
Looking to the window, she finds her mother sitting, wispy white hair floating around her head as she hums along with the tune.
"He play so beautifully, doesn't he, love?"
Madge smiles softly.
"I'm going to miss him," her mother murmurs, eyes drifting shut as she nods off, medication taking effect, her breathing slowing.
Her mother only seems to have the vaguest idea of what awaits her grandson. She knows he's going away, and for a few days, when she'd first been told, she'd stayed in bed crying until Mr. Abernathy had returned and coaxed her out with a trip to the library.
As the months slipped past, she's seemingly accepted it, but her morphling use has increased steadily.
"It's gonna kill her," Miles had muttered, one afternoon when Madge's mother had dissolved into tears at the mention of the civil services, needed a double dose to calm her down.
"She's a tougher lady than you think," Mr. Abernathy had mumbled in response.
Taking a blanket, Madge covers her up before backing out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her.
Taking the back stairs, she quietly sneaks to the sitting room, where her old piano has sat, where Miles has taken lessons from her since he was very small.
At the piano, back to Madge, is Miles.
Despite the fact that she can't see his expression, Madge knows, by his hunched posture and the sharpness of his playing, he's upset.
His exams must have finished early.
"Momma, teach me t'play," she remembers him asking her, after years of listening to her play when they'd visited her parents' house.
The other children enjoyed her playing, and were always eager to listen to her, but Miles was the only one that had showed any interest in learning.
He'd been a quick learner, excited to practice with her and play duets, always asking Gale to buy him new sheet music when it was available at the Hob, even before he'd played a single tune. Music had given him a refuge.
"He'd pick that piano over the woods if he could," Gale had grumbled.
Madge laughed. "He loves the woods. He loves the piano too. He's got very broad interests."
Despite Gale's bruised feelings on the matter, he enjoyed Miles' music whenever he got the chance to hear it.
"He's almost as good as you," he'd teased her.
"No," Madge shook her head. "He's better."
Miles had natural talent. It was a gift, and she'd often worried about it when her father had asked him to play with her for Capitol guests.
"They've got plenty of pianists, Pearl," he'd assured her. "The two of you are a novelty and nothing more."
He'd been right, of course. Miles' gift with the piano wasn't what brought the eye of the Capitol on him.
Finally, Miles finishes, sets with his fingers on the keys for a breath before slamming his hands down, creating a harsh noise.
He takes a shuddering breath, then puts his elbows to the keys, causing another discordant sound as he weaves his fingers into his hair.
Silently, breath stilled, Madge crosses the room and gently places a hand on his shoulder.
Startling, he pulls back, looks up at her with puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
"Mom!" He quickly forces a smile. "You scared the crap outta me!"
He's a good actor, Madge thinks sadly, bears it all so well with easy grins and quick wits. If she hadn't just watched him playing, seen his frustration boil over, if she weren't his mother, she might not know he wasn't fine.
"What happened?" She softly asks, not missing the panic and quick thinking he does.
Miles shrugs. "Nothing. It went-"
"Sweetie," Madge cuts him off, gives him a small smile. She won't let him lie, even if she knows he's just trying to protect her.
For a moment he thinks, smile still hanging on his lips, then, finally, he lets out a long breath.
"I-they...there was a warning at the top of the test, you know?" He taps on the keys absently. "It-uh-warned against deliberate failure. Said they review past tests to ensure testing difficulties aren't an issue, and if we did poorly, we'd be charged with test tampering."
Her father and Chaparral had mentioned the Capitol was always revising their methods, tightening the noose around the necks of 'recruits', and this was apparently their newest method. Formal, written threats.
Setting beside him, Madge frowns at the keys, tries to think of words of comfort. Something. Anything.
Nothing comes.
"I've been-I thought they might forget about me, you know?" His eyes begin to shine. "I hoped-I thought if I just ignored it-it'd go away."
But the Capitol doesn't forget. No amount of magical thinking would make them loosen their grip. He's too smart to leave to his own devices.
"I got there, and I read the warning-and I just...it was finally real." He takes a ragged breath. "I'm not getting out of this. They're taking me away."
He blinks and tears start sliding down his cheeks, dripping down his front as his expression cracks and crumbles.
"I don't wanna go, mom."
Madge feels tears begin rolling down her cheeks as she sloppily swats at them before pulling Miles into a hug.
There's nothing to say, no comfort she can offer past holding him close. He's her child and she's helpless to save him.
She isn't sure how long they sit there, his tears dripping into her hair and her soaking his shirt, but she knows it's a long time. The shadows on the walls grow longer and darker and the clock chimes the half hour a few times before Miles sniffles and pulls back, rubbing his eyes.
Looking at the piano, Madge reaches out, taps out the first few notes of one of Miles' favorite songs.
She may not have words of comfort, but she's still got music. No matter where they take him, he'll have the music she taught him.
A tiny, watery smile ticks up at the edge of Miles' lips and he places his fingers on the keys, plays the next few notes.
Wiping away more tears, Madge places her fingers on the keys and plays out the song.
It's all she has to offer him.
#######
When winter blows in, wet and chilly, storms every other day, Wren drags Gale to the Hob and begs him to buy her a new sketchbook.
"What happened to the old one?" He asks as she eyes the yellowed pages of a supposedly new book.
"I filled it."
"Filled it?" She'd had it only a few months. It had taken her a full year to cover every square inch of her last book with doodles and sketches.
Reaching in her bag, she pulls out the battered thing, holds it out to him. "Look."
Carefully, Gale opens to the first page.
Inside is a pencil drawing of that damn goat, smudged a bit at the edges, eating grass, the porch and garden in the background.
The next page is the girls, Sawyer grinning, eraser marks on her cheeks, Scout peering shyly through her bangs.
There's a sketch of Sage alone, then another of him with Briar, then him kissing Abilene. Past that is Madge, tasting a soup in the kitchen, then Daisy, laughing and snapping beans with Gale's mom.
Gale even finds himself, once dancing with Madge, twirling in the living room, another time sleeping on the couch, Jessamine snoozing on his chest.
They aren't like the photos the Capitol takes, stiff and laced with fear, they're living, almost breathing moments caught mid motion. Not big moments, but little ones, quiet mornings and sleepy afternoons.
"Wren…" Gale murmurs, closing the book on a drawing of her and Miles in the meadow. "These are-these are really good."
In fact, he hopes the Capitol doesn't add artistic ability to their list of people to snatch up. Wren would definitely make the cut.
"I know," she sighs, flipping through another book. "Useless though."
"Baby they aren't-"
"They are," she cuts him off. "People don't care about pretty pictures dad."
It's true, though Gale hopes he isn't the one who slipped and said as much in front of her.
Art is an escape for her, like music is for Madge and Miles, and Gale's learned to appreciate that.
Still, he knows he's grumbled more than once about the cost of Miles' sheet music and the wastefulness of Wren's paper.
"It's okay though," she sighs. "It still makes me happy."
Gale grins. That he knows he's said. Seeing his kids happy has always been one of his hardest fought goals.
She finally selects a thick book, holds it out and smiles.
"This'll do."
Once Gale's battered off some pelts, secured the sketchbook, he and Wren go to Greasy Sae's and sit at one of the chipped and splintered old tables. She immediately pulls out the book, begins sketching out Greasy Sae and her granddaughter.
"We could eat first," Gale teases her.
Looking up, Wren smiles softly, sets the stub pencil down beside the book.
"I know-I just-I want to get as many done as I can. We've got less than a year."
Frowning, Gale looks back at the beginnings of the picture, thinks about what she just said.
"It's for Miles," he finally mumbles to himself.
She nods, looks down at the beginnings of the sketch.
"Yeah. Ephraim gave me the idea. He said he wished he had pictures of home." Her smile slips. "He said sometimes he worries he's forgetting what his mom looks like. Papa said the same thing once. So I thought, well, I can draw home for him to take with him."
Gale nods, turns his chipped cup between his fingers.
Sometimes he forgets Lew and Daniel are transplants to Twelve. They had lives that stretched beyond the fences and woods of Twelve, lives that were tossed away when they were packed off.
"It's stupid," Wren adds, eyes dropping, her fingers twisting together. "I just...I thought it might be nice."
Reaching out, Gale takes her hands, stilling them, gives them a squeeze.
"It is nice," he assures her. "Miles'll love it."
Her smile twitches back up and she nods, picks the pencil back up and starts sketching again.
#######
The day of the interview Gale is sent home early without pay.
The Capitol had sent a note to his supervisor, directing them that due to his son's impending enlistment in the civil services, Gale was needed at the interview.
It's entirely an intimidation technique. They want Gale there to make sure he understands just how tight their grip on his son is. They want him to know he's completely at their whim, they all are.
"Mom is coming by," Vick had warned him, after he'd approved Gale's early leave slip. "She's just worried."
After the mine accident everyone assumed Charity and the kids would have to take over providing for the family, for Vick. Somehow though, supposedly due to his exemplary work history and declined promotions, he'd been offered an office job.
There was no raise, no qualifications, and no real explanation for how he'd been recommended for the job, though Gale and his mom suspected Daniel and Chaparral had pulled some strings.
It had been a rare bright spot in a dark time, and it had created unrealistic expectations in Vick's son.
When Gale had gone with Miles to explain what had happened, about his selection for service, to Vick's family, Posy, and Gale's mom, Boone had bubbled with hopefulness, thinking Daniel would create a solution out of thin air.
"Uncle Daniel will fix it," Boone had told them. "Like dad's job."
No one had the heart to outright crush him like Briar had with Wren.
The rest were more realistic.
"He'll do what he can," Gale told his mom and Posy, once Vick hand Charity had left with Fern and Boone.
"That's all he can do," his mom sighed, pressing her fingers to her grayed temples.
Posy had nodded, sat back and held a sleeping Twila closer, tears silently sliding down her cheeks, dripping into her daughter's hair.
They understood Daniel Undersee only had so much power, and it didn't stretch beyond the boundaries of Twelve.
"I guess my dream of being your in-law by having Miles marry Terrabeth is dead in the water, huh?" Thom asked, when Gale found him after work and told him about the selection.
It had been the first time Gale had laughed since the meeting with Miles' teacher.
"Well, there's always a bright spot."
Thom had tried to look offended, but only managed to make a pitiful face before shrugging, grabbing Gale and hugging him.
"You'll let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Gale had nodded, blinked back tears.
"Yeah."
What he needed no one had the ability to give, but he bit back the words. The sentiment was all that mattered, not the practicality.
They'd avoided talking about it after that, as if avoiding speaking about it might make it go away. It hadn't.
"You'll tell me how it goes," Gale's mom half asked, half demanded, as she dropped off a pot of beans, her perpetual excuse to come by and check on them. "I want to know what happens."
Even though there's really only one way for things to go.
Miles had pulled her into a hug.
"You'll be the first to hear about it."
Her eyes shimmered with tears as she patted his cheek then vanished out the door, down the road to wait at Vick's house.
At just after one in the afternoon, she arrives.
"Commissioner Mills," Chaparral, who'd somehow been assigned as escort, introduces her, then gestures to Miles, Gale, and Madge, "this is Miles Hawthorne and his parents."
The Commissioner is tall, Gale stands a little straighter to match her height and still lacks a few inches, with reddish brown skin, warmer in tone than Ephraim's, and sharp, golden brown eyes that scan the room before settling on the three in front of her.
Smiling, warm and genuine, she holds out her hand.
"Very good to meet you Miles. I'm Commissioner Sorghum Mills, I'll be conducting your interview."
Despite his nervousness, Miles smiles easily.
"Interview away."
For nearly an hour she asks questions. Some make sense, like his favorite subject in school and hobbies, others seem pointless, like when she asks him about Rowan and Rory, the mine collapse, Daisy being widowed, and Vick's leg.
Madge frowns each time she asks a strange question, but stays silent, and Gale wishes more than ever he could hear her thoughts.
"So I see your grades have been steadily declining," Commissioner Mills says as she examines Miles' records, narrowed eyes scanning the papers.
Madge pales, her hand squeezing Gale's so tightly he's sure he'll lose a finger. Their son has been playing a dangerous game, and they both know it. Now is when they'll learn if he's maneuvered as expertly as he thinks.
Miles nods, shrugs, looking as calm as if she's pointed out an error on a math test.
"Yeah, well...girls." He grins sheepishly. "What can I say? I have a weakness for the ladies. Get distracted easily."
Commissioner Mills' lips quirk up and she laughs.
"You know, I almost believe you." She fixes him in a steady gaze. "Do you think you're the first young person to try and weasel out of the program?"
Miles' grin wanes.
"No?"
She smiles as Miles lets out a long breath.
"Am I at least the best attempt you've seen?"
Commissioner Mills rolls her eyes. "I'll give you most convincing. You've certainly wooed enough ladies to make your claim substantial. Fair enough?"
Gale rolls his eyes and beside him he feels Madge stifle a snort of laughter. The girls weren't part of Miles' plan, and that breaks a bit of the tension.
Sighing, Miles nods.
Finally, after she goes over his physical notes, she gently closes the file, looks up at them sadly. She's no more excited about this than they are. She's been in Miles' shoes, had to sit next to her own tearful and angry parents, and now she's being forced to destroy someone else's life.
Gale feels a twinge of sympathy for her. She's no more chosen this life than Miles.
"I'm supposed to tell you this is a great opportunity. That you're lucky to have been singled out by the Capitol." She shakes her head. "I won't though. This is an unforgiving job. You're a smart boy-you know why they picked you-and you know why they're taking you away. Lies are their business, not mine."
Pulling out a document, she slides it across the table.
"Your contract."
Miles snorts as she hands him a pen. "Does it matter if I sign it?"
Commissioner Mills folds her hands on the table, shakes her head.
"Of course not." Her lips twitch. "But I like you so I'll forge it if you don't. Can't have you end up Reaped like your friend, Haymitch Abernathy, now can't we?"
Gale isn't sure if it's threat or not, but he feels the weight of the words. Miles is going, one way or another.
Grinding his teeth, Gale forces himself to stay quiet. He doesn't trust himself not to shout, threaten, scream they can't have his son. It'll do no good. He's a minor. His opinion isn't worth the breath he'd waste giving it, but the cost of so much as uttering what's on his mind would be devastating.
Miles' hand shakes a bit as he signs his name-'M' just like Madge's- but he's nothing but steady as he pushes the paper back across to her, expression grim but controlled.
"Mrs. Hawthorne? Please get this filed and registered," Commissioner Mills calls out to Chaparral, who'd waited in the living room, just outside earshot through the entire ordeal.
Wordlessly, eyes downcast and dim, Chaparral stamps the document, placing the Capitol's emblem over Miles' name, sealing his fate.
It's as simple as that. Miles is officially theirs.
"I'll be seeing you after the Reaping," Commissioner Mills finally tells Miles, before she has Chaparral escort her out, back to the train and wherever she came from.
Madge locks the door behind her, rests her forehead against the wood for a moment before taking a slow breath.
When she turns her eyes are bright, tears trickling down her cheeks as she slides down the door just as a sob wracks her body.
"Mom," Miles whispers as he goes to her, drops down beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulders.
He doesn't mutter comforting words to her, pretty little lies to soothe her, just holds her as she cries.
Gale watches them, frozen on the spot, numb with anger and frustration, the unfairness of it all. It isn't until he sees Miles rub his face, spots the shimmer of tears on his cheeks, that Gale feels time start back up.
They're hurting, and even if he can't help, he can hold them.
So he settles into the space between them, wraps his arms around them, and wishes for more to offer than shoulders to cry on.
#######
Madge watches as Miles carefully places his winter hat, patched and battered, in his suitcase, nestling it between his new scarf and the carefully packed sketchbooks filled with drawings Wren had given him the evening before. His last evening home.
There are to be no tearful farewells at the train station today. They'd received a formal letter telling them as much. Only the selected's parents can accompany them.
Apparently, it had been a rule for a long time.
"I'd forgotten that," Daniel had murmured, reading the letter.
Chaparral nodded. "I didn't even think about it. I never had parents."
Both of them had gone to the station alone.
It's a lonely thought, picturing the two of them, years apart, waiting at the train station alone.
Blinking away the images, Madge continues her vigil.
Miles isn't crying, but he is quiet, and Miles is never quiet. Since the day he learned to talk he's been jabbering.
"Don't you know when to shut up?" Briar had complained, the first time he'd gone out with her, Sage, and Gale to the woods and he'd babled the whole time.
"I jus-I just askin' questions," Miles had countered, unbothered by her sharp tone.
"Chatty fellow, isn't he?" The old man that sold sheet music at the Hob had chuckled, after Miles had talked with him for over an hour about one of the pieces he'd been practicing on Madge's old piano. "That's a bright boy you have there."
Miles' cleverness kept him at the head of his class, and in trouble. He was as likely to bring a letter home congratulating them on his brilliance as on his most recent troublemaking.
"He's just a bit mischievous," his first teacher had explained. "I think he just gets bored, really."
If Madge had known then just what portent of doom her son's cleverness would bring, she might've done something to dampen it.
No, she quickly thinks. Miles deserved to shine. It was unfair to consider shuttering him, even if the end result was bearing down on them.
Miles closes the lid on his suitcase, clicks the latches and picks it up, turns and smiles.
"Ready?"
Madge forces herself to smile, blinks back the tears stinging at her eyes.
She's never been less ready for anything in her life. She'll never be ready.
"Yeah, me either," he whispers, fiddling with the twine fraying on the stitching of the suitcase.
Stepping into the room, Madge reaches out, smoothes his collar and picks a bit of lint from his shoulder. He's a full grown man, but he's forever going to be her baby.
Chewing his lip, he sniffles, eyes filling with tears that he quickly rubs away.
"Promise you won't forget me," he finally says, voice so soft and small Madge swears he's five again.
Problems were so much simpler when he'd been little. Skinned knees and bruises could be healed with a kiss and a hug. Nothing can fix this.
Madge instantly pulls him into a hug.
"Nothing could make me forget you."
Not time, not distance, not the Capitol itself.
He's her baby, he's part of her soul, forever and always.
Closing her eyes, she tries to memorize the moment, etch it to her mind.
Finally, when they hear the old clock in the living room chime, he pulls back and rubs his hands over his face, before picking his suitcase back up.
He holds out his hand.
"Walk wit'me, momma," she remembers him saying, on his first day of school.
Taking his hand, she closes her eyes, wishes they were only walking to school and she'd see him in a few hours.
They aren't though. This is a one way trip.
Giving his hand a squeeze, she feels tears slip down her face.
They're out of time.
#######
The train is already there, waiting with its doors open when they arrive.
It's different than the one that takes the Tributes. The paint is chipped, the Capitol emblem peeling at the edges, and there are dents in the sides.
The differences are no comfort to Gale. It's no less ominous, no more pleasant, than its counterpart.
Miles stares at it for a few minutes, his expression muted, before he stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns his back on it.
Despite being pressed and polished, wearing his Reaping day clothes, standing as tall as Gale, he looks like a lost little boy.
"Tell the others…" He makes a face, fights back tears. "I don't know, tell them I said something great, okay?"
Beside him, Gale hears Madge take a shuddering breath, tries to laugh for him.
She can't manage it though, only makes a choking noise. Gale understands. It feels like they may never laugh again.
Gale starts to say something, anything to fill the silence that's settling over them, when an official pokes his head off the train and glares.
"Come along, boy! We're on a schedule!"
It doesn't matter to him that this is a final moment between parents and child. This is simply a job, a stop on an itinerary, not the end of the line for someone's life.
Before Gale can shout back, tell the man to shut up and let them have a few seconds more, Miles grabs him around the neck, crushes him in a hug.
"I love you."
Gale tightens his arms, presses a kiss to his hair.
"Love you, too."
Letting go, Miles grabs Madge, hugs her and kisses her cheek.
"I love you."
Madge takes his face in her hands, bushes away a few wayward tears.
"I love you." She kisses his cheek, smiles as tears stream down her face, voice cracking. "Be brave."
When the official calls out again, Miles steps back rubs his hand over his face and takes a deep breath.
He raises a hand in a tiny wave, then smiles.
"Bye."
Time slows to a crawl as Gale watches Miles carry his suitcase on and the doors slide shut.
His face appears in the window, eyes locked on Gale and Madge as the train groans and then begins to move.
For such a big moment, it feels very small, too simple and empty to be as life changing as it is.
Miles setting his first snare, taking his first squirrel, catching his first fish, all felt so much larger, more real than the here and now. If it weren't for Madge's cool hand wrap in his, fingers linking together, he'd swear he was asleep.
This certainly qualifies as a nightmare.
Then in half a heart beat the train is gone, only empty tracks and some overgrown weeds growing in the rails left in its place.
Miles is gone.
#######
AN: So there are some parts of this chapter I really loved, and some parts I'm kinda just okay with. Hopefully the passage of time is clear, this is supposed to occur over the roughly year and a half between the meeting with the teacher and Miles leaving. Anyways, sorry its so long, I almost broke it up, but didn't like how it flowed that way. If it feels too confusing, I'm really sorry.