Chapter 62- Terra Coppersmith
The ocean is beautiful, with rolling waves and fishing boats throwing nets out. Seagulls fly overhead and swoop up and down with the wind. Somewhere in the distance, someone on a boat is singing, but I can't make out any of the words. Mags and I stand on the beach and take it all in.
"I've always loved living here," she says. "Every few years or so I tour the districts, and some I like, and some I don't as much. But I'm always happy to come home."
"What do you like to do with your time?" I ask. The sea breeze blows my hair in my face and I push it away, tucking it in the hood of my coat.
"Me? I like to swim, and take my boat out for a sail. When the weather's rough, I paint," Mags says. "What about you?"
"I haven't really picked anything yet," I admit. "I've decorated my house and used that as my talent."
"You'll find something that you really love to do, don't worry," Mags says. I smile at her; I really like Mags, more than anyone else I've met on this tour.
"It's been a long time since I was on my own Tour," she continues, looking back out to sea. "My Victory Tour was the first one, you know."
"What year was that?" I ask.
"The Eleventh Hunger Games," she says. Her face is so calm that one would think it never affected her at all. But I notice the tremors in her hands, and I know that it has.
"Long time ago," I comment, and she nods.
"Would you like to go on to see where they bring the fish ashore?" she asks.
"Sure," I say, and we carry on, leaving the waves that wash up on the shore behind.
Out on the docks, I get to watch the fishermen bring in the catches for the day. "Didn't they all have to be listening to my speech?" I murmur to Mags.
"The Capitol still needs daily deliveries," she says. "A few fishermen were allowed to miss your speech."
"It wasn't anything special, anyways," I say.
"Nonsense. You spoke from the heart, and that was good of you. Kai! Good afternoon to you!" she calls, waving to an old man stepping off the fishing boat. You don't see many old people in District 8, because so many people die from the smog poisoning, accidents, or the starvation that's always prevalent. This man, Kai, must be very old, judging by the deep-set wrinkles in his face.
"Hello Maggie, my dear," he says, coming over and clasping Mags' hands in his own.
"You'll recognize our guest; this is Terra, District 8's newest victor," Mags says.
He pauses a moment, then gives a shaky smile. "Of course, I would recognize her anywhere. Pleased to meet you, Terra," the old man says, shaking my hand. "I'm afraid I can't stay to talk; they're waiting for me on the boat. Always lovely to see you, Maggie, and to you as well, Terra."
As the old man walks away, Mags whispers to me, "That's Kai Oceansong. You won't know him, of course, but his daughter was a tribute in the first Hunger Games." We all know that the victor of the first Hunger Games was not from District 4.
"Come with me, there's more to see. I'll take you to the lighthouse, and then we'll have to go back for supper," Mags says. I'm actually enjoying myself, more than I have in any other district. Mags is a superb tour guide, and the conversation flows naturally. She's a remarkable woman to appear to be relatively untouched by her own experiences.
Of course, those experiences were over twenty years ago. Maybe it gets easier with time?
"That's to make sure our boats don't run aground in rough weather or moonless nights," Mags says, pointing up at the red and white striped tower that looks over the ocean on an island of rocks. The scene painted here is beautiful, and I don't really want to leave District 4. I can't help but admire this district for its people and its scenery, and it's such a contrast to my own home.
A little snow starts to fall, and a cold breeze whips across my cheeks, making me stumble backwards. "Terra?" Mags asks. The ocean is fading, getting replaced by something much more sinister.
The wind is strong and the snow is falling so thick that I can't see anything; my hands are frozen and numb, and my feet hurt so much it brings tears to my eyes. And Fletcher is dead, leaving me alone. I have to get to the Cornucopia; I have to get there!
"Terra! Terra, are you alright?" someone is asking, holding my shoulders. I've fallen backwards onto the sandy ground, and I'm pushing her away, fighting to get the tributes away from me, they want to kill me!
"Shh, Terra. It's alright. You're in District 4," Mags says in a soothing voice, and slowly I come to my senses and stop fighting her. It was just a flashback, it's okay; I'm not in the arena. I let my arms drop to my sides, and the ocean comes back into view, the blizzard fading. Then I promptly humiliate myself by bursting into tears.
"Oh dear," Mags says, rubbing my back. She's kneeling next to me on the gritty beach; the lighthouse light keeps going around and around; I focus on it to bring myself back to the present.
"Just a flashback, I'm sorry," I mutter, rubbing my face. I don't care about the makeup; it can all wash away for all I care.
"What caused it?" Mags asks in a low voice.
"Cold. I hate the snow and cold," I whisper, holding my head in my hands.
"Then we must go inside and get you out of the cold," she says decisively, helping me up.
"I don't want them to see me like this," I say. She nods.
"We will go the long way back, don't you worry. I know how you feel," Mags says, patting my face. "Come, we won't speak anymore about it. But they'll be expecting us back at the Justice Building so we can all go for supper."
We don't speak anymore on the way back, but I enjoy her company all the same. I like Mags, I like her a lot.
"Here, come with me. The ocean always helps me when I'm feeling confused," Mags says, leading me down to the beach again when we're almost in the town. "Put your hand in and feel your worries fade away."
The water is cold, and makes my hand hurt, but it's beautiful all the same. So much of what I've seen in District 4 is beautiful.
"You're lucky to live here," I say, pulling my hand out of the water and drying it on my shirt.
"I am," Mags agrees. "I'm glad I could show you my home while you were here."
I didn't realize how late it was getting until the water starts to turn pink from the sunset forming. The fishermen come in and dock their boats as I watch; a long day over with at last. The sailors joke and sing amongst themselves as they unload their final catches for the day.
"They'll be waiting for us, Terra," Mags reminds me, so I leave the beach and follow her into the town.
Back at the Justice Building, Shuttle and Woven whisk me away to meet with Damius. "What happened to your makeup?" Shuttle asks, looking at me closely.
"Nothing. Smudged it a little," I say. "What are we wearing tonight, Damius?"
"First I'm going to fix your makeup, then I'll show you." When he does pull the dress out, I gasp. It's a dark ocean blue that drapes at the neckline, cascading down to my feet. It's absolutely stunning.
"I think it's the best one yet," I say once I have it on, twirling in front of the mirror.
"I was hoping you would like it," Damius says, then gives a little bow before leaving.
"Did you have a nice time with Mags?" Shuttle asks, arranging my hair a little.
"She's lovely," I say.
"It's always a pleasure to work with her during the Games," Shuttle says, smiling.
"They're waiting," Woven says from the doorway. Shuttle gives me a hand up.
"Where's orange boy?" I ask, looking around once we get to the hallway.
"He's been retired for the evening; he had a little too much to drink with the mayor while you were out sightseeing," Woven says, rolling her eyes.
"Shouldn't someone look into his drinking problem?" I say.
"Maybe he'll drink himself to death and solve our problems," Shuttle says sarcastically, then the mayor is there, and I'm escorted in to her house, which is directly connected to the Justice Building. I'm led straight to the dining room, which is enormous, bigger than most of the other mayors' dining rooms.
In attendance to this supper are the mayor, her husband, her teenage daughter who looks like she would rather be anywhere else, Mags, another victor who I don't know, Shuttle, Woven, myself, and several cameramen who have their large cameras trained directly on me.
As I sit down, the mayor clinks her knife against her wineglass. "I'd like to make a toast. To the victor of the 36th Hunger Games!" she says.
"To Terra Coppersmith," everyone else says, raising their glasses. Have you forgotten your own tributes so quickly? I think. This is for the cameras, though. Have to keep it cheery.
Supper is good, but ultimately forgettable. I manage to tune out most of the conversation and just focus on getting through the night without having another flashback. Mags catches my eye every once in a while, and smiles at me. I can't help but smile back at her.
It's late, and most of the guests in attendance have drunk too much when Shuttle stands up. "We hate to leave you, but you know how the train schedules are. We have to be in District 3 by tomorrow," she says.
"Of course, of course," the mayor says, standing up. The cameramen turned off their cameras over an hour ago, and are now imbibing themselves. They're about three glasses deep, and don't even notice when Shuttle, Woven, and I get ready to leave. I haven't touched alcohol at all; I've seen what it does to people, and I don't want to be that distant. No matter how many flashbacks I may have.
Mags gives me a hug goodbye. "I look forward to seeing you in July," she says, patting my face.
"I'll see you then," I say, smiling at her. Then I leave with Shuttle and Woven, back to the train, escorted by Peacekeepers as soon as we leave the Justice Building in a car.
The train starts up as soon as we get on, and soon District 4 is behind us; all I can see are dark shadows. I sit at the window and watch the ocean disappear, as best I can through the black and the trees.
"District 3 tomorrow," Shuttle says, coming to look out the window with me. "How do you feel?"
"Better," I say. "Much better."