Lucy Gray Baird, District 12
"Yeah, the birds in your garden, they taught me the words to the song."
Pulp, The Birds in Your Garden
Mayor Lipp hated District 12.
Ever since his daughter, Mayfair, had been murdered - most likely by that Lucy Gray witch - his hatred had only grown. The people of Twelve had never liked him and now he couldn't look them in the eye without feeling like they were taunting him.
Your daughter's dead, their eyes said. Your daughter's dead and you'll never catch who killed her.
Music made it worse. There was a lot of music in the mining district, sung to lift spirits after a hard day's work. Every ballad reminded Lipp of Lucy Gray Baird. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape her unless he stayed shut up in his house all day.
If Lucy Gray knew what she'd turned him into, she'd probably throw her head back and laugh like a madwoman.
It was a handful of years after Mayfair had been murdered and Lucy Gray had vanished when Lipp heard the young boy singing outside his house and snapped. To anyone else, the dark-haired boy strolling carelessly along the street, and singing to himself in a soft, lilting voice would be a charming sight. But the moment Lipp heard that familiar melody, he knew he was being mocked.
It was the song that Lucy Gray had sung at the reaping, after she'd attacked Mayfair with a snake.
It was clear to Lipp that this was not a random occurrence. The boy was trying to antagonise him, to bring all the bad memories rushing back. He knew that he had to punish the boy. Lipp fumbled with his front door, dashed out of the house and studied his tormentor. The boy was scrawny and Seam, an easy target.
Lipp charged and punched the boy as hard as he could, right in the face. The boy's song was silenced, his body sprawling on the cobblestones. Before he could scramble to his feet, the mayor had grabbed him by his bony shoulders and was shaking him back and forth, violently.
"What's your name, you little sneak?" Lipp frothed at the mouth with anger.
"Tarragon, Tarragon Everdeen, sir," the boy stuttered, through tears.
For a moment, Lipp entertained the possibility of reading the boy's name out at the next reaping and dooming him to a painful death. Then he remembered that he wasn't allowed to read the names anymore. The Capitol had never been able to prove that he'd sent Lucy Gray into the arena but they wanted to make certain that something like that would never happen again and that the reader of the names would be an unbiased Capitol citizen.
"Who taught you that song, boy?" Lipp roared.
"The birds, sir."
Lipp's fury only grew at that remark.
"A likely story! Who really taught you? Answer me or I'll have you flogged!"
"I told you," Tarragon sobbed, tears beginning to brim in his wide, grey eyes, "It was the birds! Don't you believe me, sir?"
As the mayor dragged Tarragon Everdeen to the nearest squad of peacekeepers, to give the boy as many lashes as walking down the street singing could earn, the mockingjays around District 12 began to sing 'The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird'. The song rang in Lipp's ears as he returned to his house and found that, in his haste, he had forgotten his keys and locked himself out. He pounded on the door, furious, as crowds gathered to watch their raving madman of a mayor.
What Lipp should have been wondering is this: Who'd taught the birds?
With that, the first decade of Hunger Games is at an end. It was a bit of a whirlwind to write because the first few games were all so short. Next decade, things are going to heat up. Victors will start mentoring, the urban districts will get their first victors and the first Careers will be trained up.
