April 4th, 2012
A/N: So while I have the engine running, I guess I'll just keep adding to this one for the time being. Thanks for the reviews and as always, enjoy!
It's not like him to be late. That boy is always here, just after the crack of dawn to barter and trade whatever he's managed to catch in the woods. He's like a puppy, following me around as I dish stew for the Hob's early visitors and clear bowls left behind on the counter. His eyes watch my ladle with ravenous attention, but he never asks for soup in exchange for his game. One of these days I should thank him with a bowl. He always makes sure I get a good look at his catch before he sells to others. Smart that way. Keep your regulars happy.
There is not enough energy in these old bones to worry over a thirteen-year-old boy from the Seam. There are also far too many of them to justify any concern for one child specifically. But as I set a steaming bowl before Cray, our head Peacekeeper, I squint at the open doors of this overrun warehouse. I tell myself it's to gauge the business coming and going, not to search for the tall gangly colt of a boy with a face of weariness far too old for his age.
"What's wrong, Sae?" Cray turns to glance out into the streets of District 12. Only my knack for sensing trouble sets me staring off into space. Cray's smart enough to know that.
"Just watchin' 'em come and go," I say, turning away so he can't see my frown. "Looks busy. I should probably start another kettle." Where is that boy?
My hands ache in the early morning spring chill as I set to work on another pot. Rhubarbs and wild onions simmer over the hot fire. The logs crackle and pop when I prod the infant heat to grow up a little faster. I want to add meat, maybe a squirrel, wild dog if I have to, and am considering my lack of ingredients when I feel a tug on my sleeve.
"Excuse me," a small voice says.
I have to stop myself from reprimanding the gray eyes staring up at me, firstly because it's not my place, and secondly, because the pair does not belong to him. The round faced girl watches me with apprehension and uncertainty, glancing over her shoulder occasionally. I raise my gaze to see him standing there, nodding encouragingly.
"Sae, this is Katniss," he says, by way of explanation. "She has a trade for you."
There's a moment where the three of us regard each other, the novelty of the situation seeking any form of refuge. At first, I scowl, a little put off that I'm most likely not getting my usual fare, but then I see it. Clarity rids me of my rheumy vision long enough to notice the expectancy in his young face, the silent plea to be kind though he'd never ask for it.
And that's when I understand that little Gale was late today because of her. Katniss, I think he said.
"Well, show me what you got," I say, resting my hands on my hips like a mother bracing herself for whatever her children are about to confess.
The girl reaches into her bag and comes out with a fat doe, dangling by the hind legs in her hand. I reach for it and she shrinks away warily. Gale steps up, angling her shoulders back towards me and pushing her forward.
"Sae's not gonna take it, Catnip."
"Just wanna feel its weight," I add. I motion with my outstretched hand. "Give it here, girl."
She hands the rabbit over with only a brief moment of residual hesitation. I raise the animal to get a good look at it. Decent weight, I think, bobbing the doe up and down. But what really gets me excited – or as excited an old woman like me can get anymore—is the integrity of the pelt. There's no imperfection in the hide anywhere, no stab mark in the body, no damage to the meat.
"Did you snare this one, boy?"
He shakes his head, his mouth twitching slightly as he tries to suppress a smile.
"Nope," he says. "She shot it."
Now I know this can't be true and I start to scowl. This young whipper snapper knows better than to take me for a fool…
"Look at the eye," he says.
I raise the rabbit again, twisting the animal for closer examination. And I'll be! The doe's left eye is completely mangled in its socket. A slight trail of blood has leaked across the face, still they've cleaned it up as best they could. I try to squelch the impressed look I know is on my face, but am not fast enough. Gale sees this and knows he has the upperhand. He rests a hand on the girl's shoulder as she starts to shift her weight nervously from foot to foot.
"She'll hit them for you like that every time," he says.
"What do you want for it?" I ask.
He shoulders his bag and I can see the weight of other game swing it solidly against his back. So it doesn't surprise me when he says, "Salt." Between the boy and the girl, I can now see the impressive haul they've managed to bag this morning. They'll need salt for preservation of all that meat.
"This is all I've got," I say. I shuffle in my apron pocket and hold up a small sack. Even before their faces fall in unison, I know that it wasn't the amount they were looking for. Truly, I do have more sacks stored under my counter, but for trading purposes, this is all I can afford to part with. Salt in this district may well be worth more than gold itself.
"Sae!" Cray calls. He taps his empty bowl indicating he wants a second helping.
Grateful to escape their disappointment, I retreat to oblige the head Peacekeeper. The sentimental side of me sneaks a glance at the two children. The girl ducks her eyes when she catches me watching her, but peeks up to see the steaming stew fall into Cray's bowl. The boy watches her watch me and I can see his decision before he probably even makes it himself.
"The salt and a bowl of soup," he says.
I am not the only one who raises my eyebrows in surprise.
"Gale!" the girl protests. "But you said…"
"I know what I said," he grouches. He doesn't look at her and I think it's because his pride won't let him. I know that he doesn't believe in trading hard-earned game for the instantaneous gratification of a full tummy. In the Seam, you have to trade smarter than that. It's all about the benefit long term. But then I see the desperation and I know he just can't stand the possibility of disappointing her.
"Skin it and I'll make it two."
The girl's eyes widen and I think to myself that Gale needs to teach her that when she's on the better end of a deal, she needs to be more stoic. That reaction would make just about anyone offer an alternative.
"Deal," Gale says, extending his hand.
I don't shake it. Rather I drop the doe without warning, and he has to scramble to catch it. Good reflexes though, I think, turning away. "Better get to it," I say scruffly.
The girl snatches the rabbit and heeds my advice, her small hands deftly working a small knife with stunning skill. Gale remains staring at me, his lower lip moving slightly as if he isn't quite sure how to say what he wants. Understanding the meaning of this deal far better than him, I wink as I ladle two bowls.
It wasn't my best trade. But as I watch the two devour their steaming bowls, exchanging clandestine smiles between them, I know I've guaranteed something better than just a beautiful doe hide and rabbit meat.
In the Seam, it's all about the long term.
~Fin