(7)
Madge comes to see me the next day. She is drop-dead gorgeous. I've never seen her like this before. Her hair looks like it's been dyed a darker rich color. It is no longer blonde, but looks just as fitting to her. She is also wearing some light make-up. It's almost as if there is a whole different person in front of me. The old Madge Undersee is long gone and there seems to be nothing left of her.
She starts jabbering about her wedding and how District 13 is reacting. Apparently, they love Gale and Madge almost as much as they loved Peeta and me.
"We're still madly in love despite the fact that our futures are doomed. Isn't that romantic?" her voice is light and airy as she speaks. I picture her as if she's floating on a cloud. She seems to be excited about what's going on, but I can see through her mask, because I've had to cover my feelings multiple times before. When I look right into her eyes I can see her suffering, the pain of losing her mother (in what way I don't know) and the horror of her situation.
"Very," I act uninterested and examine my nails.
"You look beautiful Katniss," she tries to compliment me. Sure, throw compliments at the pregnant woman. Maybe she won't be so grouchy. I despise it, but I notice that she does mean what she says. I can tell this, once again, by her eyes.
"Thanks," I mumble under my breath.
She stops talking for a bit and stares at me. After she's done with her examination, she gets up to leave. She turns the door handle, but then pauses to look back at me.
"You are going to come to the wedding?" she asks. It's more of a statement than a question.
I want to be bitter, but no matter how much I try to hate Madge, I can't do it. She's such a sweet person and she doesn't seem to bother me much about Gale and Peeta. "Of course," I say with as much enthusiasm as possible.
She notices my effort and smiles brightly. "Alright, well I best be off! Let me know if you need anything. Toodles!"
She waves at me and closes the door behind her. My head collapses on the pillow just as she is leaving the room.
What am I going to do now? I decided to stare up at the ceiling. It is such a blank canvas. I want to draw all over it, to remind me of Peeta. That's when I get an idea.
It takes me several minutes, but I manage to get up out of bed and find my father. I ask him for some writing utensils and he helps get me organized. Then, I start to draw on the walls. They are a dull white color and I figure when I have this baby I'd want to be surrounded by something that is significant. So I draw trees. Lots and lots of trees. Climbing trees, fruit trees, tress topped with snow and trees covered in different colors. My drawings are not that good, but it only takes one look at them to imagine a real tree, the kind I thought of while drawing my murals. Then, in neat cursive, I write names on the wall. I write Peeta and Prim and Rue, big and large, meaningful, important. I spend the whole afternoon working on making the walls speak to me and by the end of the day, they do.
As I fall asleep, I have a dream. Not a nightmare, a dream. It seems the drawings have put me at peace. I am very pregnant and Peeta is painting what looks to be an empty room. He is drawing murals, just like I'd done today. I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him. He stops his work and holds me for a while. The mural he is drawing is us. We are in our beautiful costumes from the first day of the first Hunger Games. Holding hands, blowing kisses, waving. That day comes back to me in a flash. He has portrayed our faces so perfectly. He hasn't changed mine at all. You can see that somewhere deep inside I still don't trust Peeta Mellark.
All of a sudden, I feel a pull on my dress. I look down and see a little child standing there. This is the part where my memory gets sketchy. I don't remember what the toddler looked like, just that it was there and it looked to be around two years old. Peeta lets go of me and resumes his work on the mural.
That's when I wake up.
Leanore is sitting by my bed and I nearly scream. Her figure looks eerie in the middle of the night. She scrams up the bed and quickly covers my mouth. Putting a finger to her mouth, she tells me to be quiet. I nod and she crawls under the covers. I don't respond at first, but then she tugs on my hand and I pull the covers over my head.
"I've been eavesdropping," she says very quietly. I need to lean in to hear her.
"Eavesdropping? On who?" I can be very silent. From all those years of hunting with Gale, quiet communication has become something I am strong at.
"The meetings. I've been hearing the meetings," she looks happy with herself, anxious to see my reaction.
I am probably stunned. Is she going to tell me what's going on?
"You have?"
She nods and says, "I know their plans."
"Plans? What plans do they have?"
"I heard about what they are going to do."
"Fill me in," I prop my head up with my hand.
"Plutarch has gotten a special connection with someone from inside the Capitol. He's teamed up with a Gamemaker who can help control the Games. Security will be down on Annie and Vessy is going to be her Avox."
"Vessy?"
"They said you know her. I think she's got red hair."
So that's what her name is. Vessy.
"Anyway, they've told Vessy to inform Annie on everything they are planning to do to shut down the Games."
"Why Annie?" I wonder aloud.
"Because she will be the least expected to be spreading information. The Capitol thinks she is mad. Really, she's brilliant. At least, that's what Finnick's been telling everyone."
"Ok," I nod. That does make sense. No one would suspect a woman who appears mentally unstable to be the source of information. "Continue," I urge her.
"Annie will tell the important people. We'll leave out your prep team, Enobaria and those boys from your school. No offense, but your prep team would either blow the whole thing or be too thick-headed to understand. Enobaria and the boys can't be trusted. I think they mentioned not telling Gale's brothers too. Still too young. They'll probably follow Peeta around," she explains.
"What about Rue's sister…" my head searches for a name until I find one, "Mayla?"
"I didn't hear them mention her," she responds with a solemn face.
"Oh. Go ahead, continue..."
"The plan is as follows: on the fourth day of the Hunger Games, Beetee and Plutarch will take over the Gamemakers with the help of some other friends. Beetee will fix some wires to take down the electric field surrounding the arena and Plutarch will shut down all the weapons. Your father will be in charge of rescuing your family and Haymitch will take care of Peeta's brothers and Effie. Gale will mind his own family, and Madge's father, while Finnick will save whoever is left. Then…"
There is the soft movement of feet on the carpet. My father is coming. Leanore jumps out of bed and slips under it with expert agility. I admire how fast she is. I resume a sleeping position but I'm sitting on my stomach wrong and it hurts like you wouldn't believe. He opens the door a crack and sees my figure.
It takes all my strength not to fall over. My position is so uncomfortable, but I bear it for Leanore's sake. I can't have him coming in here. He decides all is well and heads back into his room.
Leanore waits a couple minutes and then crawls out from under the bed. She says she'll tell me the rest as soon as she can. I nod and she leaves.
Every day I wait for Leanore to come back. She never does. I haven't left the house in over two months. I'm too afraid to bring her up to my father. Anything I say could be suspicious because I don't talk much anymore. So, I just wait. It's painful too, because I believe that there is still so much I don't know. But I try to remain happy with what I've heard about so far.
Plutarch and Beetee are going to shut down the Games. But what does that mean? And how will they do it? I think about this a lot. Leanore said that Haymitch, Gale, Finnick, and my father will be rescuing people from the arena. Does that mean they are going into the Games? I try not to think about this. The horrors of what could happen start to build up inside of me.
Tonight is Gale and Madge's wedding rehearsal day. I think it's stupid how formal everyone is being about the whole event. But I guess if you live on the outskirts of your country and the rest of the world doesn't know you exist, there is little to get excited about.
I try not to think about what's happening. If I do, it only makes things worse. My situation couldn't possibly be any more complicated than it is.
It's noon and for the first time, I think about my appearance. Obviously, this had been at the back of my mind and I had dismissed it every time it came to my thoughts during the past months. I've been lounging around the house wearing my father's old extra large shirts. But today I'm not going to be lying about and I can't just show up with to a wedding with a t-shirt on.
I rack my brains to remember some things that Cinna has taught me. Asking my father for some supplies, I get started on making my own clothes at around one in the afternoon. He manages to get some needles and thread from a neighbor and I start my work. I decide to make a dress out of bed sheets. Sure, it will be ugly and cheap looking, but where else am I supposed to get maternity clothes? I certainly am not squeezing into anything that doesn't fit me.
I don't know how I do it, but at four, right before I'm supposed to leave for the rehearsal, I finish a slightly acceptable small dress. It is white and looks like I just rolled out of bed and kept the sheet around me, but at least I'm not naked and covered in black soot.
My father braids my hair as we're getting ready to walk out the door. He's not very good at braiding, but as he is weaving my hair in and out of itself, I ask him the burning question I've had since forever ago that I'd completely forgotten about up until this very moment.
It hits me quickly and I feel strange for not remembering it sooner. I open my mouth to speak, "Why is there a District 13? How did it come to be? Where are the weapons?" All my questions rush out so fast they are intelligible and when I repeat them, I can't say my words slowly enough. But somehow, he finds a way to understand, yet again.
"District 13 is underground, Katniss. What you see above the surface is just what would look to be a happy little town with happy little people who have nothing to do in life but think about Gale and Madge's wedding. All the work is happening underground. The rebellion, the scheming, all of it, is not in plain sight. I'm not supposed to talk to you about this," his voice trails off.
"Don't you think I should now?" I give him this look I used to give Peeta when I wanted him to do something for me. It didn't usually take much for me to convince Peeta to do anything for me though.
My father shakes his head and I can feel my ears turn red. I'm upset with him again. It seems like I shouldn't be upset with him, that he is just trying to protect me, but this sort of this annoys me. How many times have I proven I can take care of myself? I don't need him to keep things from me.
We leave the house without another word and a crowd swarms around me in minutes. Everyone wants to see me because I've been in my father's house for nearly three months. There are many questions, too many. I can't understand what anyone is saying. My father tells everyone to back away and to keep their distance because I need air.
Eventually I make it to another house that is very similar to my father's. It is a little larger, but the place is packed. I can tell by the noise and how close everyone is standing.
"I can't go in there," I say pointing into the house. Peering in through the door, I can see people pushed against one another. Almost everyone has a drink. I hear a glass shatter in the distance and a bunch of shrieks follow it.
My father nods and disappears inside the house, leaving me outside in the cold. Without him here, there is no one to protect me. A mob of people surround me again. I remind them that I need space to breath and most of them finally leave me alone. There is a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to see Finnick.
"Finnick!" I cry out. I haven't seen Finnick in the longest time. I've never found him to be attractive, despite how every other girl in Panem feels, but tonight he is as handsome and young as I've ever seen him. He's dressed up for the wedding in what looks to be expensive clothes. I can't help but notice what they see in him now.
He gives me a light hug, taking special care to not hurt me, "I'm sorry I didn't come to see you."
"I'm sorry I upset you," I say in return. All of a sudden, I realize I'm still in debt to Finnick Odair. The things he's done for me, saving Peeta, being in on the plan. He's one of the reasons I'm still alive.
"We'll call it even," he whispers, letting me go of his embrace.
Not even close, I think to myself.
"Mind being my date for the evening? I know how you must," he stops and looks around for people who may be listening in on our conversation. Finding no one he continues, "I know how you must be upset about this whole Gale/Madge thing."
"I am. I think it's completely ridiculous," I complain as I nod in approval. It will be nice to spend some time with Finnick.
"I completely agree. I don't really get the point anyway. How many people do you think we're fooling?"
I shrug and we both sigh.
He interlocks arms with me and says, "Alright, shall we venture in?"
I make a sound of an injured animal.
"Guess not… Well, then you wait right out here. I'm going to get something to drink," just like that, he leaves and I'm alone again, left to concentrate on my problems by myself.
I hear a noise from around the corner of the building. Following it, I spot Leanore in a crouched position. I get down next to her.
"Leanore!"
She shushes me and I lower my voice, "Where have you been?"
"Your father wouldn't let me in to see you. I don't know why," she murmurs.
It's a trust issue. You'd figure a thirteen year old girl wouldn't be eavesdropping on a conversation to fill in the very person they were trying to keep the information from. But Haymitch must have reminded him to trust no one. And so, even little Leanore could not see me again.
"Ok, fill me in," I say with urgency.
She shakes her head. "It's too dangerous."
"What? I've got to know. Leanore, please tell me," I reply a little too loudly. Heads turn and I'm ushered over by a new group of people. Leanore gives me a pitiful look and her eyes say it all. She's sorry. I don't need any confirmation to know this for sure.
After several minutes of torture, Finnick returns and takes me away from the questioning crowd. He's got a glass of hard liquor and a bottle of water. I'm a little puzzled. I've never seen Finnick drink before. It just seems odd to me because I just can't picture him drinking. He places a firm hand on my shoulder and hands me the bottle of water. I uncap it and drink it down thirstily.
Before I know it, I'm face to face with Haymitch who has already lost his sobriety. Pity it's still so early in the night. His speech is slurred and he has the famous drunken look about him, "Wonderful party, ain't it darling?"
"Good to see you again too," I mumble under my breath. Neither he nor Finnick hears me. Truth is that I was actually looking forward to seeing Haymitch again. I wanted to see how he was doing. I was hoping for him not to be drunk, but I rarely get what I hope for.
Finnick tells me that the procession is going to start in the town square in about a half hour. I can see from where I'm standing all the chairs lined up. No way can all of District 13 get a seat.
Haymitch grabs my arm and says, "You look absolutely ravishing sweetheart. Who did your clothes? Classic." He starts rubbing his hand back and forth, up and down on my arm, as if he is trying to warm it up. "How's the little tyke?"
I swallow hard and remove his hand, "Just fine." Pulling on Finnick's arm, I try to get away from Haymitch, but before we leave, Haymitch raises his hand and points to the house. He stammers something about getting another drink and wobbles back into the house. I wonder whose house it is. I feel bad for the owner. Cleaning up Haymitch's throw-up will not be a fun experience.
Finnick makes some uninteresting conversation about colors. I'm surprised how fast the alcohol has gone to his head.
After some time, everyone makes their way to the square. Finnick rejoins Haymitch and they click glasses. I keep walking by myself.
I sit down and smooth out my dress, feeling very foolish. That's when I see him.
If I said Finnick was handsome, he would look like a person who'd been living off bugs in the forest for 10 years compared to Gale. He is like no other person I've seen before. There he stands, hands folded across his body, waiting for the rest of the guests to sit down.
I can't help the urge but to run up to him and throw my arms around him. He smells so good, of a scent I've never smelled before. I hold him tightly, but he pushes me back. I'm wounded somewhere deep inside. "No, Katniss, congratulate me later," he whispers.
Finnick comes up behind me and takes me back to my seat. I suffer in silence as I watch Gale and Madge practice their union which will be official the very next day. I'm devastated because it feels as if it is the real thing. I cannot help but question what suffering I am in for tomorrow.