Marley's POV
After the fiasco with Haymitch I return back to my room and shower off quickly to remove the stench that was Haymitch's vomit. I opened the shower door and was surprised to see more than two nozzles. There were several buttons and each had a different symbol on it. I recognized none of the markings until I got closer and saw a letter H and a C on two of the buttons. As an experiment I pushed the H button and was assaulted by a jet of hot water. I blindly hit the C and was squirted by a blast of cold water. I jerked away from the tub and wiped my face with the sleeve of my robe. I pulled the shower door closer to my body and tentatively pressed a button with what looked like a cloud on it. A puff of some vanilla scented perfume came out of the wall but it was way to powerful and I had to walk out of the bathroom to get some clean air. I sit in my room for several minutes before walking back into the bathroom. The smell still lingers but it's less potent and I resume my position by the tub.
The next button I dare trying has a tear drop shape on it and is light purple in color. I press it and hide behind the door to avoid getting sprayed with anything. I look back into the tub and see some liquid soap coating the opposite wall of the tub. It smells slightly like lavender and has a gel like consistency. I felt a little daring and so I pressed another button with a tear shaped symbol the color of the sky and a runny white substance came out. I had no idea what this was supposed to be so I stuck my head out into the corridor and looked for Effie. Luckily for me she was walking down the corridor and I was able to get her attention.
"Effie." I whispered just loud enough for her to hear me.
"Yes Marley. What can I help you with?" She grasped my hand in hers. I pulled her into the room and towards the bathroom.
"I can't figure out this thing." I say trying to maintain a little bit of dignity for not being able to figure out a shower.
"Don't worry dear; you're not the first one to come asking me about the showers." She points to all the buttons and explains that the light purple one is for soaping up your hair and the similar blue one is for making your hair easier to brush. The cloud shaped one was for smelling nice.
"That's all great and stuff, but if I can't get wet how am I supposed to get the soap out of my hair?"
"Just push these two buttons." She gestures to the H and C buttons.
"I know; I already tried those and nearly got my face burnt off and then was made into a human ice cube."
"Try pressing them at the same time and then press again for warmer or cooler."
"Thanks. I feel like a dork for not being able to figure out how to work a shower,"
"No problem just when you get done throw on something and we can go and have dinner."
After my shower I throw on last night's clothes and figure since I'll be dressed by the Capitol stylists soon it doesn't matter what I wear now. I brush my hair and try to braid it like my mother had done my hair for the reaping. It looks sloppy and I rip the pins out of my hair. Not the smartest idea I've had all morning. I decide to leave it down.
As I enter the dining car, Effie brushes past me with a cup of coffee in her hands muttering about Haymitch's behavior. Haymitch's face is puffy and red from last night's indulgences and he is laughing. I glance at Jake who's holding a roll and smiling sheepishly.
"Sit down, sit down," Haymitch tells me and as I do a plate of eggs, ham and fried potatoes is placed in front of me. I pick up my fork and begin to pick through the eggs. I look at the ham and can't help but feel a little pang of guilt over what my family must be eating while I'm here stuffing my face. The thought of them watching me eat while they had nothing was almost too much to bear and I slowly picked through the rest of my breakfast. I glance around the table seeing items my family wouldn't have been able to buy even for special occasions. There are all sorts of things from wild and exotic fruits, to coffee, to bread rolls, to orange juice, to some unknown rich looking drink in front of me.
"They call it hot chocolate." Jake says seeing me look at the small cup of it. "It's good." I find it hard to believe that something that looked like runny mud could taste good. I take the cup into my hands and give it a small sniff. It smells richer than it looks and once I take a small sip of it I know this is my new favorite thing. It's rich and full of flavors I have only known one before; when my father brought home a small slice of cake from the bakery in town. Even then the chocolate wasn't very flavorful but it still had a small amount of appeal, but this stuff, um, it was chocolate in hot heated form. Somebody could hit me know and I know it wouldn't spoil my mood. I drain the cup and start gorging myself on food. I try not to feel bad by telling myself that gaining a few extra pounds might do me some good in the arena.
I glance at Jake who is also gorging himself on food beside me. Luckily we hadn't made the same wardrobe mistake again. He wore a dark blue shirt and tight black jeans.
"So you're supposed to give us advise," I direct my comment to Haymitch who has been thinning a glass of some unknown red juice drink with another clear liquid. Judging from the smell of it, it is some kind of spirit.
"Here's some advice. Stay alive," He laughs with himself like he's made some great joke and it makes me mad. I exchange a nervous glance with Jake before turning back to Haymitch who is still laughing.
"That's very funny," Jake says then knocks the glass out of Haymitch's hand and it shatters on the floor. "Only not to us." Haymitch's fist come up so quickly I thought he could have been sober. His fist connects with Jake's jaw and his head snaps sideways with the force of the blow. Haymitch reaches forward towards the spirits again but I stand up quickly and the knife I have in my hand comes down hand into the table a mere inch away from his hand. My own speed surprises me. It must have been some sort of adrenaline rush.
"Well, what's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" Haymitch glances at the two of us and then back at the knife. I remove my hand from the hilt and sit back down in my chair. Jake rises from the floor of the train and grabs a handful of ice from the fruit display. Haymitch shook his head and motioned for Jake to put the ice down. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it to the arena."
"That's against the rules," Jake says with less conviction than I think he meant for it to have.
"Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren't caught, even better," He turns from Jake to me. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?" I thought about what skills I had. In school we were allowed to do archery with bows and wooden arrows (they wouldn't do much damage in a fight) and I was pretty decent but I didn't know about throwing knives. I pulled the knife out of the table and took aim at the opposite wall hoping it would stick in the wall. To my surprise and I think to everyone's surprise the knife wedges itself between two tiles and stays put. I smile a little but then wipe it off my face. Arrogance was not a face I wore well.
"Stand over here. Both of you," It's not a request that both Jake and I join Haymitch in the center of the dinging car but rather a demand. I don't d well with commands but I swallow my pride and walk over to stand by Jake. He circles us inspecting everything from muscle tone to hair color. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit, and once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." I try not to take his comments as an insult knowing he was my only way to get sponsors and tips on how to survive the longest.
"All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," He pauses glancing at our faces to see if we are listening, "But you have to do exactly as I say." It's not much of a deal but some help- even drunken help is better than no help at all.
"Fine." Jake says almost reluctantly and I can tell he doesn't like the idea of Haymitch still being drunk while we fight for our lives. Maybe Haymitch will surprise us all and turn out to be some fabulous mentor, who knows?
"So help us. When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone…" I start asking but he's shaking his head.
"One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist." Haymitch tells us. His eyes linger longer on my face and I am almost offended at his lack of faith but then I realized I was just as thick headed as Haymitch must have been when he was a tribute.
"But…" I begin to protest but am again silenced by a look from Haymitch.
"No buts. Don't resist," He points two fingers at his eyes and then points them back at us as if he's watching us. With one more look, he grabs a bottle and leaves. The car goes dark and I momentarily lose my cool and feel trapped. I feel a panic attack coming on. My hands reach out to find something to steady myself with and unfortunately it's Jake's hand. I'm about to let go when his hand grasps my wrist and keeps a firm hold on my hand. I feel something in me begin to release and I find the darkness a little less frightening than before. His hand is cool in mine and it feels rougher than I remember. Maybe it was just the passage of time since we last held hands but somehow his hands feel older, like they've had more experiences in the world. There are some calluses on his palm and some rough skin in need of some lotion in between his fingers. None the less his hand was a welcoming comfort in the darkness of the tunnel.
I can feel the train begin to slow down and the car is thrust into light once again. Without meaning to I rush to the windows dragging Jake along beside me. I glance over at him to apologize but see his is staring at our linked fingers. I gently pull my hand away and look back out of the window. The videos they show in school aren't even close to what we see. The cameras failed to capture the magnitude and brightness of all the colors. Sure the cameras captured the image of the buildings but they failed miserably to capture the feeling of the Capitol. The whole place seems to be alive like all the buildings might pick themselves us and walk over to an empty slot and decide that's where they live now. Each building had its own personality; some were tall with grand balconies, others were short and long. The buildings looked a little like the people which almost made me laugh because most people in our district looked like their occupation. The people were more outrageous than the buildings though and their fashion sense was almost too much to be real. I looked at one lady whose corset was tightened so much that she was almost cut in half.
"That can't be healthy." I say pointing to the women so Jake can see. He looks at me and rolls his eyes but there is a smile on his face.
"I wonder where this guy is going with that wig." Jake points to a man with a giant purple wig and a boat on top. Like a small scale boat on top of his head. It didn't look like it weighed his body down one bit. Then people started to look at the train going through the middle of the town. I slowly backed away from the door suddenly afraid of all the people here. All of these people want to watch me die. They all want me to be killed so they can be entertained. Jake saw me shrinking away and reached out for my hand. I let him take it and slowly pull me toward the window again. He entwined our fingers again and held them up for the people to see. The people of the Capitol were in frenzy at our arrival but when Jake raised our hands they almost all passed out with how much more they cheered. The noise was deafening and suddenly it all cut off. I looked around to see what had gotten them all so quiet and noticed we were being surrounded by cameras. Apparently the cameras came first in the Capitol because all of the people backed away from the train to let the camera people do their job. The lights from the cameras began to flash and I wanted to leave the window again but Jake's hand was firmly planted in mine and I wasn't going anywhere.
"You can smile," Jake suggested while waving with his other hand.
"I'm not going to stand here and act like they're doing me a favor," I say frowning just to prove my point.
"Who knows? One of them may be rich," He says this and there is no point arguing with him. He's right and if I want to make it home to see my family, I have to play nice and act like I care what they think bout me. I smile and if anything the cameras flash even faster and our image is flashed up onto a makeshift screen. People begin to chant something but I can't tell what it is. We are deposited with Haymitch and Effie at the bottom of some huge building. Effie walks briskly out of the train a pink bag swinging wildly from her arm and she rushes into the building not even looking back at us.
"Personally I think she'll be glad to be rid of us soon," Jake jokes and I laugh before I can help myself. We walk into the building but are then whisked away to another building.