Chapter 7 - Who We Could Be
Haymitch was used to having Katniss and Peeta walking in and out of his house but he made it clear to them that his study room was off limits. Having any of them entering the room would be akin to opening a Pandora box and he couldn't have that so the room was always locked.
He kept his notes of them and his published novel safe in the study room but he had completely overlooked the library and that was the last place he needed Effie to visit.
Haymitch sincerely doubt that she was interested in any of the books there and that her sole purpose would be to survey the place to include it in the brochure she was making of the town to promote the Village but still, having her in the library would be a risk. A copy or two of The Plague was bound to be there even if the thought no one read it anymore. It was a risk he was not willing to take.
As he went after her, Haymitch made a mental note to check all the copies of the book out. He should have thought of that in the first place.
Annie had a penchant of going to the library to get books for little Finn, and she was already a fan of his children books. It was dangerous.
The familiar sight of loose flowing honey blonde hair and blue dress made him hurried his pace. He caught up with her in front of the shoe shop.
"The library's boring," he declared, breathing loudly to catch his breath as he slowed down to a walk next to her.
"Is that so?" she raised an eyebrow. "That's rich coming from someone who loves to read."
"You've come to that conclusion because….?"
It made her stop walking with a slow exhale of her breath as she gave him an exasperated side-glance. She rummaged through her bag for her purse, retrieved a note and handed it to the young girl minding the small store in exchange for pack of chocolate.
Haymitch had long noticed that she had a sweet tooth.
"I just came from your house, did I not? I saw an entire wall filled with books," she informed him.
"Right," he rubbed the back of his neck. "The – uh – the library ain't… I don't have good memories of that place."
"I did not know that and I'm sorry that your memories of it are less than stellar," she told him sincerely, "but I want to have a look. I am not asking you to come with me. Besides, you were the one who said that you wanted to stay home. Why are you here?"
"To tell you not to go to the library," he admitted. "I've been there numerous times. I grew up in this town so I know the library like the back of my hand. It hasn't changed much so I can tell you whatever you need to know 'bout it from memory."
Effie handed him the chocolate bar with a quiet amusement playing on her face. Breaking off a piece, Haymitch glanced her way and waited.
"You are rather passionate in hating the library," she mused. "Do you want to tell me why?"
"I don't hate the library," he rolled his eyes. "I just – It's a reminder… of what I failed."
Her brows knitted together in confusion.
"What do you mean? Is it your… job? What is it that you do exactly?" she asked and he winced at the barrage of questions. "We've never talked about this and all this while that I know you, you are always around. Does this have anything to do with the library?"
The grimace must be apparent on his face because Effie touched his arm in an apologetic gesture.
"I write," Haymitch confessed as they stood by the sidewalk leading to the town's square.
There was no point hiding it anyway. Annie and Finnick were perfectly aware of that fact having read most of the books he wrote for children. Truth be told, he was still surprised that they had not come across The Plague yet but it would only be a matter of time if he did not take steps to have that book removed. The novel told the story of the fall of the rebellion and made no mention of Finnick's and Annie's family but it was still the world where they came from which means there would be a probability that they might come across something familiar in relation to their past.
"You're a writer?" she exclaimed. "How exciting! Have you published numerous books? What are you working on now?
"Uh, a novel – no title yet," he said which wasn't exactly a lie. "I'm trying to get it published."
He carefully avoided any mention of The Plague that was published years before because unlike the Odairs, the Trinket family was actually featured in that first novel.
Ever since he wrote her to life, it made him wonder if she knew that her grandparents had financed the rebels during the Dark Days and if that family history was passed down to her. Only a select few knew that fact, of course, but it would be vital information that he would have revealed to the likes of Katniss, Peeta and Finnick in the sequel. If he ever wrote it, that is.
Unless… She was existing in a separate plane which was what he had thought before but dismissed it as an insane theory.
"I do not understand, Haymitch," she frowned. "If you are a writer as you claimed to be, then why are you so adverse to the library?"
"The only books I've got published are children's literature. We've all got to start somewhere, yeah? But I've been stuck there for years and I can't … I can't get anything new for a different target audience," he said.
Again, that was not exactly a lie. He was having the worst writer's block and he was not getting anywhere at the moment. It frustrated him to no end.
"I wrote those children's stuff for my brother when I was a young man. My teacher noticed it, helped me get it out to a publisher. I've got those books in there in the library but I want something more, you know?"
"I understand, Haymitch," she nodded. "Perhaps, you are just putting too much pressure on yourself. Inspiration, I believe, comes during the most unexpected of time, you will see. Sometimes… during a shower," her eyes glinted.
He laughed. "You just want me to take a shower."
With a grin, Effie looped an arm around his. "Let's go for a walk - how about the meadow?"
Anything than the library, he thought.
"You have a family?" he asked, partly due to his curiosity from earlier.
"Yes, of course," she smiled good-naturedly. "Parents – Lysandra and Stefan Trinket -" she informed him and he nodded because Stefan Trinket existed as a young man in The Plague, "and two older siblings; a brother and sister. My nephew is a little older than Finn."
"No grandparents?"
She shot him a curious look.
"Oh, no," she said, staring straight ahead. "They passed."
They rounded the bend and Effie smiled charmingly at Greasy Sae as they passed by her modest eatery.
"Do you…" Haymitch started and paused, and when her attention was back on him again, he said, "Do you believe in alternate universes? An alternate reality?"
"Is this the writer in you talking?" she teased.
Haymitch shrugged. He needed an explanation for himself more than anything. The characters he wrote were not meant for this world and yet, they were adjusting in it just fine as if they belonged here.
"It's an interesting concept is all," he muttered. "Characters that exist in a different universe yet despite that difference still somehow meet each other and their… their fate," he grappled for that word, "usually follows a certain pattern…"
He stopped and then shook his head.
"I ain't drunk or anything," he said defensively, "but I'm not makin' sense to you, yeah?"
"It does not sound appealing," she told him gently. "I would like to think that in an alternate reality, my life might turn out to be immeasurably different! Perhaps… My dreams came true and I am now a famous model. If there is another me out there somewhere with that career, then… I envy her very much right now," she pouted.
"Yeah," he nodded, perking up a little. "Think about it… In that world, even as someone famous, you might have met Katniss and Peeta or… Finnick and his family. No matter where you go, these people will still be there."
"So will you," she pointed out. "Maybe you are not a writer, maybe you are someone else."
"Maybe," he indulged her. "That'll be nice not to struggle to write the next story – just some regular person with a family," he added the last part quietly.
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