Seasons of Wither, Chapter 8
Days pass and nothing much changes for Gale and I. We still gather and hunt almost daily. The animal life surrounding the district continues to dwindle. My mother is still suspicious about my condition, dropping subtle hints such as insisting that I stop drinking so much tea because the caffeine it contains "isn't good for a growing body." Prim still seems none the wiser about everything, mostly because we haven't been able to spend a lot of time together. She keeps busy with the sickly patients that line up at our door daily due of the famine, and I'm usually out hunting with Gale when I'm not sleeping or at school. And though I've entered my second trimester of pregnancy, my morning sickness hasn't went away and I'm still just as nauseous as ever.
The only thing that has changed is that Gale is a bit softer with me when we go into the woods together. He never lets me wander too far off, and we take frequent breaks since I usually end up tiring more quickly these days. I still keep a few crackers with me along with a good supply of clean, cool water. As hard as I try not to lose any nourishment by retching, most of the time it is out of my control.
Gale has asked me numerous times since he found out if he can tell Hazelle about my pregnancy. I've declined over the past two weeks, using the reaping as an excuse. I don't want to introduce the idea of a grandchild just to die in the arena before it's even born, after all. Gale seems stressed about having a child on the way, but I can tell he's trying desperately to hide it. I think that deep down he has always wanted to be a father, but has never allowed himself to consider it a possibility considering the existence we've had to grow up in. In a way, I still haven't quite accepted that I'm going to be a mother in six months. I'm not even sure that I know how to be a mother. But for now, I'm just trying to keep my mind in the present.
Today is the reaping. Though we choose not to speak about it too much, Gale and I have been preparing for the consequences that will arise if one of us is chosen to go into the Games. This time of year is always stressful when you have a loved one of reaping age, but today is downright atrocious. To top it all off, Prim's name is in the reaping bowl for the very first time this year. It's such a slim chance that she will be chosen since she didn't sign up for tesserae, but it's still a possibility. But there's 20 times the chance that Effie Trinket will draw my name from the girl's reaping bowl today. Katniss Everdeen, the first pregnant tribute to go into the Hunger Games. To die in the Hunger Games.
"Maybe they'd let you off the hook since you're expecting," Gale says to me this morning.
"Don't think so," I reply. "If that were the case, then all the girls in the districts would be getting knocked up."
I watch as his fingers work tensely to check the snare line. I can tell this is going to be a bad day for him. He is not dealing with this year's reaping well at all, not that he ever does.
I'm more scared for the possibility that Gale's name will be drawn from the reaping bowl, what with his 42 slips of paper. I secretly hope that if one of us has to be chosen from the lottery today that it will be me. I know that Gale wishes the opposite, but if I die in the Games, our families will have a much better chance of survival than if Gale does. There will be two less mouths to feed rather than one, and I know that in a few months when I grow enormous that I'll be useless when it comes to hunting. If Gale's name is drawn, our families will most certainly starve.
After checking the snare line and coming up with one gaunt rabbit, I manage to shoot a couple of squirrels with my bow. Afterwards, we take a quick break to rest and take a drink of water from my canteen. I'm feeling shaky and tired, but I try not to let Gale notice. In the back of my mind I know that this may be the last morning that we ever spend together and I don't want to ruin it.
Gale takes a long gulp of the water and declines the tasteless cracker that I offer him. It's a tad bit hot for late spring, but I find it to be downright blistering. I guess maybe it has something to do with pregnancy and water retention. I've found myself glancing over my mother's pregnancy book when she's not around, and I've picked up all sorts of interesting facts. Most of them I'm not looking forward to.
"I guess we should start back," Gale begins. "Give us time to get all gussied up for the reaping," he says in disgust.
We part once we reach the Seam, each taking off in the direction of our home. "See you in the crowd," he mumbles. It occurs to me that this might be the last time I really get a chance to see Gale. Sure all the tributes get a final goodbye at the Justice Building before boarding the train, but it's not enough time to say everything that needs to be said to a loved one.
A loved one.
"Gale," I begin as he starts to walk away, though I'm not even sure what I had intended on saying to him in the first place. I bite my lip awkwardly as he waits for me to speak. "Just...good luck."
He nods at me before walking away.
Prim is already dressed in my old reaping clothes when I return home, her hair in two braids at the side of her head. I scrub my hands and face clean before walking into the bedroom to find out the dress my mother had laid out for me. It hangs a tad too long for my short stature and is very tailored, causing the fabric to pull taught across my expanding waistline. I have started to show now, just a little though. It's easily hidden under my everyday clothes and is only obvious to someone who already knows that I am pregnant.
I tug uncomfortably where the fabric stretches across my belly, and my mother walks in to give me a good once over. "You look beautiful," she offers me, her eyes lingering on my midsection a bit longer than necessary. "Let's fix your hair."
My mother gives me a more mature hairstyle than the one that my sister wears, pulling sections of hair into an elaborate braid. She turns me around when she's finished, placing her hands on my shoulders and offering me a small, sad smile. "Well, look at you," she says with a sigh. "All grown up." I know what she means, but I still refuse to tell her, to say something that may upset my sister on this already nerve-racking day for her.
Before we leave for the square, I take a minute to hug Prim and assure her that everything will be okay. That tonight we'll be eating a hearty meal of stew and greens and enjoying each other's company. She seems to relax in my arms just a bit, but the words do little to settle my own anxiety.
…
I find my way towards the front of the crowd where the 16-year-olds stand in a roped-off section. I look at the kids who stand around me, faces solemn as they await for the reaping to begin. I manage to find Gale at the very front section where those who are of the oldest reaping age stand and catch his eye. He looks sad, angry, and anxious as he meets my gaze. I can tell that his jaw is clenched tightly as Major Undersee takes the stage and the usual introduction is given before he reads the story that goes into a brief history of Panem and how the Hunger Games came to be. It's the same narrative they read every year, and I know the words by heart.
Haymitch Abernathy stands slumped next to Effie at the side of the stage. He actually looks even worse for wear this year, which is saying a lot. He must have gotten an early start on the drinking this morning. I occasionally see him in town, and he's never walking steady enough to be considered sober. Interestingly enough, he's never been to my mother for any of the alcohol related illnesses one would expect a man with decades of inebriation under his belt to have.
The sun is beating down on the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the stage, and I can already feel the bile rising in my throat from skipping breakfast this morning. Part of it was nervousness, the other was just wanting to conserve our rations for this evening's celebration.
If there's anything to celebrate this evening, of course.
"Lady's first," Effie begins as usual, stepping forward to the large glass bowl that contains 20 slips of paper with my name and one with Prim's. It's such a small fraction, I tell myself. Such a small chance that I will be sent to the Games. To my imminent demise. But my palms are still sweaty, my body still tense with anxiety. I look to Gale, who appears to be holding his breath as the name is being drawn. I can see the hatred in his eyes, his complete detest for everything that his happening right now.
I silently wish for my name not to be chosen. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because I am certain Gale's reaction to my name being called would only make matters much, much worse. I start to wonder how he would deal with his anger towards the Capital if the name of the girl who carries his child is drawn. What would he do? Punch out a Peacekeeper? Start an riot right here in the square? I know whatever it is would, without a doubt, result in his very public execution.
I'm just barely paying attention to the name that Effie is reading as I contemplate this, and for a second, I can swear that she has just read my own. No...I think. Oh, no.
But my fear diminishes when Katrina Evanson, a 15 year-old girl from the Seam, is slowly and tearfully escorted through the crowd by a group of Peacekeepers. I heave a large sigh, and I hate the relief that is washing over me as this girl is sent to her very probable death. I may have made it through another year, but there's 23 children that will never return home to their parents.
The boy tribute's name, Page Harrington, is read next, and I feel all the anxiety that has been slowly building up over the past few weeks dwindle away in an instant. After the reading of the treaty and the playing of the anthem, the two new tributes are escorted towards the Justice Building. Usually the crowd shows their respect by standing quietly in place until the newly chosen tributes have left the square. However, Katrina and Page have just started to step off the platform when Gale wastes no time making his way towards me. I find myself doing the same, and we somehow meet in the middle of a group of town kids as I fling myself into his arms. He's grinning ear to ear as he joyfully lifts me up off the ground, giving me a tight hug before placing me down carefully and planting a kiss on my forehead.
It is all quite a show, and somehow we have attracted the attention of the crowd surrounding us. But at the moment, I just don't care, and making the other girls think that we're a couple may not be such a bad thing right now.
It's a time for celebration. We have another year to live and another chance at life.
…
Gale and I sit on the front porch of his house, sipping warm mugs of tea as Hazelle and my mother prepare dinner in the kitchen. I can smell the stew Hazelle is stirring on the stove top as she chats casually with my mother who works to prepare greens for the salad. Gale is out of the reaping now, Prim and I are safe for another year, and there's enough for dinner. It is a good day, and we decide to end it with a good meal.
The kids all run around out front of the house playing with Rocky and squealing in delight. I smile as I watch Rory and Prim attempt to teach the dog to do tricks, although he's much too rambunctious to pay attention to their commands long enough to learn anything. Gale grins, laughing softly at Posy as she takes the dog's paw into her hand, telling him to "shake." But Rocky's only interest right now is the stick that Vick holds high above his head, preparing to throw. One thing Rocky does know is to fetch, though I have a feeling he knew long before he became a member of the Hawthorne household.
"We should tell them," Gale says as we watch our younger siblings play. "Tonight. I think it's a good time to tell them."
My teeth clench together slightly at his words. I had agreed in telling everyone after the reaping was over with, but I'm still not looking forward to it. "Tonight?" I ask him. "But things are so perfect right now. I don't want to drop this on them, not when everyone is so happy."
Gale finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine. "You know that we have to eventually. The longer we wait, the harder it will be."
I watch Prim sit down on the bottom step of the porch. She's so young and innocent and impressionable. I have to wonder what she will think of this. What kind of example I will be setting for her, getting pregnant while I'm still just a child myself. Being so casual about becoming intimate with a boy. Putting everyone's lives at risk in the process.
"You can't hide the truth forever," he points out. "Look how well that worked with me."
I sigh. "I'm not ready yet."
"Katniss-"
"Hazelle likes me right now," I interrupt. "I don't want to change that."
"My mother could never dislike you, Catnip. You're going to be the mother of her grandchild," Gale assures me.
"Yes, I'm giving her a grandchild who's only five years younger than her own daughter. I'm sure she'll be ecstatic," I say dryly. "The last thing she needs right now is another child to worry about."
Gale shakes his head at me.
"Two more weeks," I plead with him. "Please, Gale. Give me a couple of more weeks, and then we'll tell everyone," I promise him.
"Gonna be able to hide that for two more weeks?" he asks me, nodding towards my slightly protrusive stomach. I blush. Being pregnant is one thing, looking it is quite another. And he's right, before long there will be no hiding the fact that I am expecting.
"Under my normal clothes, yes," I answer. "It's not every day I wear one of Mother's fancy dresses though."
"It's too bad," Gale says, eying me. "It suits you. You look feminine even."
I roll my eyes at him, because he has to have some idea of how difficult it would be to hunt in a dress. Before I can even vocalize my retort, his large palm in on my abdomen. I'm surprised at the look of affection that is already in his eyes.
"I wonder how big she is right now."
"About the size of a plum," I answer, and Gale gives me an inquisitive look. "My mother has books on it. Now move your hand before someone notices," I say, swiping it away and self-consciously glancing around me.
Our families all pile into the Hawthorne's tiny kitchen as dinner is being served and sit around the large oak table in the middle of the room. I feel Gale give my knee a reassuring squeeze beneath the table before we begin to eat. Everyone is in such good spirits today that it's much too difficult to worry about the trying months ahead.