Chapter 8: The Dog Whisperer
Gale pins up the map on the wall next to the large aerial photograph so he can more easily compare the various land features. The office is empty except for him—nearly everyone else is on fact-finding trips in the districts—and he considers the peacefulness and slower pace a blessing, letting him make some real progress on the plan to put more land directly into ownership by the citizens so they can control their own destinies. At least more than before.
"There you are."
Gale looks in the direction of the voice and sees an unwelcome, familiar profile in the doorway. The effect is immediate: an overwhelming urge to slam the door in the visitor's face, preferably after subjecting him to a solid pounding.
He doesn't even have a good reason for hating Simon, but decides that the guy's general smarminess and the fact that he gets to see Madge so often are enough justification. Gale can't even bring himself to articulate a greeting and instead silently watches as Simon enters the room and approaches Gale and his maps.
"Long time, no see," Simon observes, clearly in no hurry to explain why he's wandering around the Reconstruction Committee's building without an escort or why he's bothering Gale.
Gale crosses his arms and holds his ground. "Good to see you're not dead." He's aware that his tone indicates otherwise.
"Back atcha." Simon scans the rest of the room. Most of the committee members have their desks and files in this office—all the openness and proximity are intended to 'foster collaboration and collegiality,' whatever that means. Gale thinks of the room as a forest made up of desks instead of trees, and Simon strikes him as a predator—or what a predator would look like if its prey happened to be unattended government files.
"Why are you here?" Gale finally asks when Simon seems perfectly content to study the room while an awkward silence blooms.
Simon turns from his inspection of Gale's maps and focuses his full attention on Gale.
"Madge."
Hearing her name makes Gale's skin prickle. And then queasiness starts to radiate out from his stomach.
"What about her?" he demands. "Did something happen to her on that trip?" Not all the tracks have been fully repaired yet; the train could have derailed. He hasn't seen anything on the news, but Simon would know first, wouldn't he? (Another reason to hate him.)
Simon leans against the desk next to Gale's and crosses his arms. "Oh, now you're concerned about her?"
"Is she safe? Nothing happened to the train?"
"The train is fine. She's not, though." Simon shakes his head in disgust. "I can't believe you didn't go with her on that trip. After everything she gave up for you, and you just toss her aside when she needs you the most—"
"I didn't toss—" Gale starts to say in his defense before he remembers that he did tell her he couldn't see her anymore. And then she apparently ran off and told Simon, which is infuriating and shouldn't be—if she's not in Gale's life then he shouldn't get to care about who she tells what. But he does care. He grits his teeth in frustration and says tightly, "It's better for her to not be around me."
"Oh, it is, is it? She loses her entire family, you're one of the few people she has in her life from home and for some mysterious reason she actually likes you, and you take that away from her, too? Yeah, great plan."
The enormity of Madge losing both her parents hits him like the shock wave from an explosion. To this day, he feels the ache of losing his father, but he still has his mother, Rory, Vick and Posy—four other people who lost the same person he lost and could appreciate and share the stories that would keep his father alive. Madge has… a strict aunt she barely knows who hadn't even seen Madge's family in over ten years.
Simon lets Gale flounder in his own self-loathing for a few minutes and then says briskly, "She passed out on the tour of the district. And threw up right outside what used to be her house. Not the best day for her."
Gale feels like throwing up, too, and forces himself to endure Simon's hostile expression, accepting the blame for not being there for her. When did the universe twist reality to the point where Slimebag Simon gets to lecture Gale about what's best for Madge, and may actually have a valid point? The memories of his own walk through the ashes of District 12 resurface to remind him of how destroyed he felt to go back, especially that hollowness at knowing he'd lost Madge. But he'd been able to return to his compartment in 13 that night and play card games with his family just for an excuse to spend time with them, and at that point Katniss and her family were also still safe.
"She's doing better now," Simon continues, "but she could use you as a friend when she gets back. If you can manage to stop being an asshole." He pushes himself off from the desk and stands up straight, preparing to exit.
"Wait," Gale says. "How can I get in touch with her?"
"She's out of range."
"Did she... say anything about me?" It pains Gale to be asking such a juvenile question and that he has to ask it of Simon, who's apparently the gatekeeper of all insights and information about Madge now, but he doesn't have a choice. He has to know if Katniss or Peeta said anything to Madge about his bomb. He can't imagine they did, and if Simon thinks Gale should be in Madge's life, he probably doesn't know about it...
"She didn't mention you," Simon answers, frowning slightly at Gale. "I don't get it. You obviously care about her. Why cut her out?"
The idea of having to justify himself to Simon of all people grates beyond tolerance. But Simon isn't leaving so Gale finally says, "I did things in the war I wish I could take back. I don't deserve her."
Simon is speechless for a few seconds, and then angrily gestures to the rest of the room. "Look around you. Do you think you're sitting with saints in those committee meetings? Do you think you're the only one trying to make things right?"
Gale frowns and Simon walks to one of the desks in the room and picks up the nameplate. "Committee Member Douglas? A real piece of work, as I think you're aware." He raises his eyebrows at Gale, who stares back stoically but does internally agree that Douglas is a shit for brains greedy jerk riding his connections and wealth for everything he can. Simon walks to the next desk. "Plutarch Heavensbee? The guy was a Gamemaker." He keeps walking. "Committee Member Fisher? Watch your back. Lindley? Yeah, I can see you're not impressed, either." Simon keeps wandering around the room. "Ah, Committee Member Whistler. My favorite."
"Perri?" Gale asks, surprised. "What did Perri do?"
"Ask her yourself," Simon says nonchalantly. "My point is that you're not the only person struggling with your past. I think about mine every day. But I'm not hurting Madge in the process, and you are. And you need to stop."
Gale stares at his desk, trying to digest all this information. He never understood exactly what Simon did when he worked for the Capitol, but had always assumed it was bad enough that Simon felt the need to redeem himself by helping Madge. The knowledge that Gale might actually be worse is disturbing, especially because it seems to be true: Simon helped save Madge while Gale helped kill an innocent girl who was essentially family.
"Amazing," Simon mutters. "You spend your life in the crappiest social tier of the crappiest district in the country and still think you're better than everyone and should be held to a higher standard."
"Not a higher standard," Gale corrects. "Just a standard. Everyone being terrible doesn't make any of it right."
"Great, we can recruit a bunch of five year olds to run the country," Simon says. "But not nine year olds. They start to turn nasty around seven or eight, wouldn't you say?"
Gale chooses not to respond to the sarcasm, though he's remembering how he got in his first fight at eight, when a town kid made a comment about Seam women having so many babies to beat the odds since so many of the babies died. Rory was still a baby and his mom was pregnant again, so Gale had realized in horror that the insult could apply to his family and launched an attack on the kid. He got the snot kicked out of him, but he distinctly remembers feeling proud that he had inflicted some damage on the other kid. Does that count as starting to turn nasty—feeling glad about someone else's pain? Has he always inherently been a dangerous person?
"Think about what she needs, not what you deserve," Simon orders and then walks out before Gale has a chance to say anything else, leaving Gale in his silent forest of desks.
#
On Friday, Gale leaves work early enough to squeeze in a climb, but just as he's getting ready to call Milo, the phone rings. He has the irrational hope that Madge is calling him, but it turns out to be a male voice he doesn't recognize.
"Gale! I'm glad I caught you."
"Who is this?" he asks suspiciously.
"Dusty Whistler." Madge's uncle. Gale can practically hear the man smiling through the phone, which suggests he isn't calling with bad news, although ever since Simon's visit Gale has been on edge about how Madge is faring on her trip.
"Is Madge all right?"
"Madge? Yes, as far as I know. She and Perri are still traveling. Should be back next week. Listen, I was wondering if I could get your help. There was an explosion on the road we're building between Districts 2 and 3 and they need me to leave tonight to sort it out in time for the shift tomorrow morning. Would you mind looking after Zipper for the weekend? It would really help me out."
Gale's instinct is to say no—an entire weekend of the most annoying dog in existence?—but he can't say no to Dusty. And maybe he can start trying to make things up to Madge by helping her family…
"Gale? You there? I'm sorry to spring this on you, but we don't know the neighbors well, and he's taken to digging in their garden so I don't think they'd be too keen on taking care of him…"
"Do you want me to bring him over here?" Gale asks tersely, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief that he's agreeing to this.
"Whatever is easiest for you," Dusty gushes. "It might be easier to control him at our house since he knows the routine here, but whatever you want to do is fine."
Sold. "I'll come over there. I need to pack a few things."
"You might want to take him into the recreation area," Dusty suggests. "Hiking helps wear him out."
Gale sourly rounds up some things to take with him to Dusty and Perri's house, including his hiking gear. He throws everything into the car and starts the drive out to Hyland Village, still slightly disgusted that he's going to spend his weekend with Madge's aunt and uncle's dog. Not Madge, and not even other humans who don't annoy him, but Zipper. True, he wasn't doing anything else and the reporters don't know to look for him at the Whistlers' house, but he's consciously disrupting his life for the sake of an animal that he won't be skinning or turning over to the butcher. Well, probably won't be.
He hefts his backpack onto his shoulder and walks to the front door of the Whistlers' house, noticing an assortment of colorful flowers have been added to the garden. He wonders if Madge planted them—she'd been getting really into her garden in 12—and if she's starting to feel more at home here.
Scrambling and barking sounds erupt before he can knock on the door, and when it opens Zipper flies out at Gale, leaping up boisterously.
"Zipper, down!" Dusty calls, grabbing the beast by his collar. Then he pets Zipper's neck as the animal leans happily into his leg. "Thanks for coming over, Gale," Dusty says warmly. "What a relief you were free."
"Yeah," Gale grunts, eyeing Zipper warily.
Dusty releases Zipper, who immediately starts sniffing Gale's shoes while Dusty finishes packing. "I'm sorry we didn't see you last weekend when Madge was here. She said you were busy."
He's relieved she apparently only told Simon, not her relatives, that he didn't want to see her. Maybe he can still salvage this.
"Have you heard from them since they left 12?" Gale asks in what he hopes is a casual tone.
"Oh, you haven't talked to her recently?" Dusty doesn't seem phased when Gale shakes his head, and just continues talking. "Perri says she's better now, although quieter than usual. Maybe you can talk to her about it more when she gets back. Sometimes that helps."
Gale feels sick again and vows to find a way to make it up to Madge. He's never talked much about the destruction of 12, aside from the propo he and Katniss filmed in the wreckage and answering inquiries from Posy and Vick. But if it will help Madge, he'll do it. He can tell her about the bomb, too, and let her reject him to his face instead of preemptively doing it for her.
Dusty hands Gale a folder containing instructions about what Zipper eats and when, and tells Gale to help himself to anything in the Whistlers' kitchen. "Mainly you'll just want to exercise him as much as possible so he doesn't tear the house apart or drive you crazy," he advises.
After Dusty leaves, Gale tosses the instructions folder onto the table without reading it and ignores Zipper, choosing instead to examine more closely the family photographs in the living room. Specifically, the Madge photographs. They've added several since the last time he was here, obviously trying to make her feel included and welcome. Is this her 'home' now? Is the Capitol? He guesses he doesn't need to worry about her moving back to 12 any time soon if it drove her to nausea and unconsciousness…
Zipper drops a mangled rag creature at Gale's feet and looks up at Gale expectantly. Is this some kind of game? If so, it's stupid. Gale kicks the vile rag away and keeps looking at the Madge photos. The ones of her when she was Posy's age make him wonder what Posy's been up to lately. He had been happy to hear from his mom the last time they'd talked that she was beating all the boys in her class in 13 during the Above-Ground Race Day competitions, but that was a while ago. He hopes Rory and Vick are looking after her.
The disgusting rag lands on Gale's shoe again and he realizes he did accidentally start a game with Zipper. He tosses the gross thing into the backyard and when Zipper bounds after it, Gale takes the opportunity to slide the glass panel door closed.
His stomach growls and he realizes he forgot to eat lunch again. Wandering into the kitchen, he pulls out a loaf of bread and some cheese to make a sandwich, but his efforts are interrupted by the sound of frenzied barking in the backyard. He rushes into the yard and sees Zipper leaping and twisting in the air, apparently hunting flying insects.
An irate neighbor is peering over the fence, eyes dark pools of frustration. "If you don't shut that thing up, I'll put a bullet in it!"
"Be my guest," Gale shoots back before remembering he's temporarily responsible for Zipper's antics. At least he understands now why Dusty didn't want to ask the neighbors to watch Zipper.
The sound of Gale's voice triggers Zipper to barrel frantically forward, muzzle and paws coated in dirt, no doubt from the massive hole in the middle of the nicely manicured yard. Gale tries to intercept the speeding animal before he can decimate the Whistlers' carpets, but Zipper anticipates the move and dodges Gale, barking happily. Gale lands on the ground and helplessly watches Zipper bolt into the house.
Picking himself up and racing after the furry blur, Gale discovers that in the space of what could have only been 10 seconds, Zipper managed to track dirt all over the carpet, jump on not only the couch but also the arm chair, and now isn't even visible. Gale finds the beast in the kitchen, scarfing down the loaf of bread that had been on the counter.
"Stop that!" he yells, but Zipper interprets Gale's outrage as the next phase of the game and gathers the rest of the loaf into his jaws and dashes away again. Luckily he ends up in the backyard, and Gale quickly locks him out.
Never before has he wanted a bow and arrow so badly. He wouldn't have to put up with any of this dodging and weaving; he could just aim, shoot, and turn the carcass over to Greasy Sae.
Gale surveys the damage and breathes a sign of relief that at least he knows how to get dirt out of cloth; his mother had a number of tricks he can use. He ignores the scratching at the door as he scrubs the upholstery and carpet. What on earth possessed the Whistlers to think this terror of an animal should be treated like a member of their family? Pausing for a moment, he thinks about how they've sort of adopted Madge and seem to be including him in their lives, too, even though he's no prize. They invited him to dinner and to visit Madge's grandparents' house, and called him to take care of Zipper…
As he cleans the carpet, a dust-covered book on dog training on the bookshelf catches his eye. He becomes immediately engrossed, recognizing many of the dog training techniques as his own methods for managing the press at briefings: rewarding good behavior (thoughtfully answering the worthwhile questions) and punishing bad behavior (not calling on the alley-dweller types who only care about gossip and speculation). It shouldn't be that difficult to train Zipper…
He spends so long reading the book, he doesn't notice that darkness has enveloped the backyard until he checks on Zipper again and sees him sleeping by the door, waiting to be allowed inside. When Zipper notices Gale, he promptly stands up and wags his tail politely.
"Are you going to cause me trouble?" Gale asks warily. The friendliness is probably a ploy.
More tail wagging. With a sigh, Gale slides open the door, hoping it's safe because there's no visible dirt on his paws.
It's not safe: the second Zipper steps onto the carpet he makes a yakking sound and throws up the bread.
#
The next morning, Gale wakes up early and calls Milo. He needs to get out of the district: he is going to hike that damn dog into exhaustion or die trying because he can't endure another night of barking, barfing, and all-around obnoxiousness. After reading Dusty's instructions and the entire training book, the best he's been able to manage is to make Zipper "sit" once. He suspects it may have been an accident.
Milo doesn't pick up, which means he's either climbing at the quarry already or was out late last night at the bar with the other climbers who've started joining them at the quarry. If he was out, there's a high probability he still has company this morning, but Gale doesn't care. When his call is routed to the answering device, he hangs up and redials. Milo is nearly as good as Gale at ignoring his phone, which means Gale knows the best tricks to get him to actually answer if he's home. Waking him up is the first step, which this series of successive hang-ups accomplishes. The next step is to leave a message that forces him to pick up if he's screening.
"This is Dr. Hawthorne calling from the clinic with your test results. You have a very contagious strain. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, under any circumstances engage in any—"
"You jackass," Milo's groggy but angry voice cuts in, picking up the phone mid-message so Gale's words are no longer broadcasting into his house. "I'm sleeping."
"I need a map," Gale says. It's already 7:00 a.m., the sun is firmly above the horizon, and the devil dog is clearly plotting his next move, resting his head on Gale's feet in an attempt to lull him into a false sense of security. "Something outside the district."
He hears the muffled sounds of Milo quietly telling someone to go back to bed, and Gale smirks that his strategy paid off. Speaking into the phone again, Milo asks, "And you couldn't wait until a normal hour? Why are you working this early on a Saturday, anyway?"
"It's not for work. What do you have?" The official maps of the district are utter garbage, but Milo started a new job recently that gives him access to better maps and he's been unofficially sharing them with Gale for the district borders expansion project.
Milo calls Gale a few more choice names, but Gale can hear him shuffling papers in the background. "We just did the area at the end of Farris Road. Most of it, anyway. I also have… let's see. The area just outside the northwest quadrant near the reservoir."
Gale arranges to drive over to Milo's house and pick up the maps, swiftly packing Zipper and all the gear they might need into his car. Predictably, Zipper is as annoying as he is everywhere else, barking enthusiastically at passing vehicles and jumping between the front seat and backseat like he has a purpose in either location (he doesn't).
When Gale pulls up, he finds Milo sitting in the bright morning sun on the single step leading to his little house, presumably waiting outside so he won't bother his sleeping visitor. Zipper launches into a frenzy of barking when a neighbor's cat walks across Milo's lawn and Gale angrily shuts him inside the car.
"You got a dog?" Milo asks skeptically. Gale can't tell if he's hungover or just typically weekend-scruffy. Not that Gale shaved or brushed his hair this morning, either; Milo, Zipper, and a bunch of trees don't care what he looks like.
"I'm just looking after it this weekend." Gale can't believe he's admitting that he's babysitting a dog, even if only to Milo. "For a friend. Friends."
Milo snorts. "Since when do you have friends?"
Gale rolls his eyes, used to Milo giving him grief about constantly declining the invitations to join the rest of their climbing group in their revelry. "She's a friend from home."
"Really?" Milo sounds genuinely surprised. "District 12?"
Gale nods and sits down on the step next to Milo, aware because of their early morning climbing routine that Milo is just as much of a morning person as Gale and won't be going back to sleep, regardless of his possible hangover or his guest. "I thought she died in the bombing, but she didn't."
Milo gives a low whistle. "You don't hear many stories like that." His mouth curls into an expression of distaste as he watches Zipper slobbering all over the jeep's windows. "She must be pretty important if you're putting up with that thing."
Gale grimaces at the truth of that statement. "I screwed things up with her."
"Shocking," Milo mutters. "So you're on dog duty now?"
"Something like that. If I can wear him out, maybe I won't strangle him. I can't take him to the recreation area. Obviously."
Milo shakes his head in commiseration as they watch Zipper do some kind of spinning move in the backseat of the jeep. The patrons of the district's recreation area tend to be uptight about things like staying on trails and keeping dogs on leashes. Gale suspects Zipper would face more than a few death threats.
"Good luck with that," Milo says as he hands several maps to Gale. "I need these back by Sunday night. We're leaving on another trip on Monday."
Gale nods, opening the maps, which are only partially filled in. Still, they're more useful than the official maps published by the district and at least include names for some the roads. "Thanks, these look good… I can't get over how terrible the government's maps are."
"The mapping company had a sweetheart contract with the district, from what I heard," Milo says in a disgusted tone. "They collected the money and published the maps, but never got off their asses to ground truth anything. Good riddance. This new outfit seems better so far."
"So it's going well?"
"Sure," Milo says with a shrug. "Pay's better than the Bomb Squad was. I'm glad I found this gig once we finished all the sweeping." He reaches for one of the maps and points to the legend. "We're adding a geologic inventory to the maps. That's what I help with, as the resident Block Head." He grins, using what Gale recognizes as quarry slang. Milo knows all the rock types and combinations and characteristics; it's impressive although Gale would never tell him that.
"There was an explosion on the new road between 2 and 3 yesterday," Gale says when he notices this new map includes that road. "Know anything about it?"
"On the new road?" Milo says pointedly. "The road that didn't exist during the war when the Peacekeepers were leaving all their little souvenirs?"
"Exactly," Gale says darkly. "I hope they catch whoever did it." The idea of anyone setting off bombs on civilian roads when the war has been over for months is nauseating. Then he shakes off his frustration and stands to leave. "Have fun explaining your disease to Cornelia."
"How did you know she—" Milo looks embarrassed that Gale guessed who's still sleeping inside his house. She's one of the regulars at the quarry. "Are we that obvious?"
Gale raises his eyebrows in confirmation and Milo punches his arm—not lightly, either.
"Next time, keep your medical opinions to yourself, Doc."
Gale almost smiles, but then he looks back at the car and sighs heavily when he sees Zipper, remembering what's in store for him.
#
Selecting the most complete of Milo's maps, Gale drives to the end point of one of the roads that extends just beyond the district's old border. Even with the map, he'll be relying primarily on his compass and observation skills to keep him from getting lost, and he finds himself looking forward to the challenge. The scent of the pine trees and fresh soil combine with the gentle hum of insects and rustling leaves to help him feel calmer and more optimistic. He's even entertained rather than annoyed at how recklessly exuberant Zipper is. They quickly develop a routine in which Zipper runs off and periodically returns to Gale, which means Zipper is covering about 5 times as much ground as Gale and should be wiped out by the end of the day.
Gale spots a few birds he's never seen before and itches to shoot them with a bow and arrow, but he doesn't have a set and anyway Zipper is so loud that the birds, and probably other animals, can hear them coming well in advance. It's just as well; he doesn't need to hunt for food anymore and hunting reminds him of Katniss. He'd been putting off exploring these forests as a way to avoid thinking about her, but now that he's here he finds that the plants and animals and terrain are so different that he spends most of his mental energy studying everything, wishing he had names for all the unfamiliar species.
He eats lunch on a large rock outcropping looking out over a valley and makes notes about the terrain on his own map, pausing occasionally to give Zipper scraps for correctly obeying the commands he's trying to teach him. As he tosses a breadcrumb toward Zipper, he's hit with an intense pang of missing Katniss. One glance and she'd know exactly what he was thinking—just how absurd it is to be feeding bread to a dog.
But this is his new life, and he must really be losing it because when he looks at Zipper he's reminded of the same intensity of trust and adoration in Rory and Vick's eyes when he taught them how to play cinder ball or advised them on the best way to avoid the bullies from town during recess… It's for the best that he's not influencing them anymore, though. Zipper only trusts him because he's a dog and doesn't know any better. Rory, especially, has plenty of reasons to hate Gale...
"Let's go, Zipper," Gale sighs, resigned to the fact that he's terrible but that he can't hate this stupid dog anymore. He decides to cut over the next ridge for a shortcut back to the road where he parked the car. Everything is going fine until he hears high-pitched yipping—Zipper in distress. Crashing through the trees, Gale discovers the idiot dog holding one of his front paws in the air while standing next to a large pool of discolored, yellow and orange water lined with partially submerged mouse corpses.
"Get back," he orders. Zipper hears him and limps toward Gale, whimpering pitifully. Gale kneels to examine the injured paw: some of the skin is inflamed, but the little rascal should be all right. He pushes back the panic that he'd wrecked another family. Zipper is a dog, but Madge's aunt and uncle clearly dote on him and Gale's relieved he won't have to give them any news worse than that Zipper suffered an acid burn. Because this foul water is definitely acidic runoff draining from the boarded-up gash in the adjacent rock wall, which has the look of a former mine entrance. It's not on the map, but that's not surprising.
The more interesting fact is that there are several human footprints in the soft earth near the runoff, suggesting someone else has been here recently. Jerks, Gale thinks to himself, for seeing this hazard and not covering up the acid pool. All it would take are some large branches to block access, which he can easily do once he takes care of Zipper.
He's aware, as he bandages Zipper's paw, of the irony that the last time he performed first aid on an injured limb was when Madge got leash burn from Zipper himself. For a few seconds, he indulges in imagining what life might be like if she still likes him after he's made up for the way he pushed her away and let her down, and once she knows the truth about him… But it's probably too much to hope for.
A/N: Chapter title courtesy of the TV show The Dog Whisperer. This was a bit of a slower chapter to set up some plot and character stuff that leads into the next chapter. But yay progress: Gale is making friends! (Human and canine!) Madge will be in the next chapter. Thanks for reading, everyone!