Seasons of Wither, Chapter 18
I have always commended myself on my ability to predict animal behavior. I know when a dove is about to take flight by the whistling noises that it makes. I know where to find rabbits by the birds of prey that perch themselves on the tree branches above the shrubbery where they hide. I know that a deer feels it is safe to graze free from predators by the flick of its tail. Or that fish always gather around shady areas where the trees grow along the river bank.
But somehow I am never able to predict human behavior. Whenever these things happen, they always come as a complete surprise. Even from Gale, who has always been much like a part of my family and who I feel I know as well as my own mother and sister.
I have to shake myself from my wandering thoughts when I realize that he's still staring at me from across the bed with those dark gray Seam eyes. But I'm only focusing on his lips which have formed a tense straight line across his face. He's not saying anything, only waiting for me to say something—anything—to break the uncomfortable silence in the room. Just some sort of acknowledgment that I'm processing what he's just proposed to me. Something that I never thought I'd even have the opportunity to consider:
Marriage.
I'd have to say that if I had ever fantasized about what this moment would be like, it most definitely would have not been like this. I may not be the romantic type, but even I know there are better ways to ask for a girl's hand in marriage than summing it up to convenience.
Blinking, I throw back the covers on the bed and, with much effort, manage to bring myself up to a sitting position before beginning to tug my undergarments back on.
"Katniss?" he asks warily from his side of the bed.
Gale's seen me naked on numerous occasions, but I feel so exposed and vulnerable right now as he watches me dress from where he lies under the covers of his bed. Refusing to answer him, I begin to tug my socks on, and finally he sits up to gently grasp my arm.
"Are you going to say something?" he asks me, his wavering voice an indication of his nervousness.
We've both talked about getting married before, about starting families. Not with each other obviously, but I had clearly explained to him how I never wished to marry. I realize that everything has changed since then and that the only reason I never wanted a husband was because I didn't want to bring a child into this world. But I have to wonder, why after almost five months of knowing about the baby does he suddenly decide we need to be married?
Is this something Hazelle is making him do? He'd admitted to me that his mother wants us to be more for the sake of her grandchild.
Or maybe something my own mother is guilting him into doing? She hadn't exactly been the friendliest person towards him since she'd found out.
These sort of ideas don't just pop up out of nowhere.
I stand up and begin to pull my jacket on when Gale jumps from the bed to bolt after me.
"Katniss, I don't get it. Why are you so mad?" he calls after me, quickly pulling his shorts back on before following me to the doorway.
"Why?" I turn around to ask him. Confused, he frowns, shaking his head. "Why do you want to marry me?"
There's a slight pause when my question takes him by surprise.
"Katniss, we're having a baby together. You live on the other side of the Seam; it isn't fair to me! I mean, when will I ever get to see this kid? Maybe an hour in the evening when I come back from the mines?" His hand clasps firmly on my forearm, keeping me from leaving. "If we marry, then we can have our own house. Our own lives."
"So that's what it is then? It's just more convenient for you if we marry."
"Yes," Gale begins, but then quickly shakes his head. "No! There's other reasons. Don't tell me your life hasn't been hell since this all happened. I know about the way that they treat you at school, what the people in town say behind your back. If we get married, we can be a real family. They'll issue us a house and we'll have our own space without our mothers intervening. This will make it easier on you, on me, on all three of us. I want to raise this baby with you."
The next question that I ask him is one I'm not certain I want to know the answer to, but I can't leave it alone anymore. A part of me knows that this relationship is based on the mistake we made in the meadow. That none of this is what Gale had ever envisioned for his future.
"I want you to be honest with me," I quietly plead with him. "Would you be asking me to marry you right now if it weren't for the baby?"
There's an uneasy silence, and I can tell that Gale is struggling whether or not to tell me the truth.
"No..." he answers honestly, and I instantly tug away from him. "Katniss, I got you pregnant when you were fifteen. I never would have planned for that. So we have to move things a little more quickly than we'd liked? That doesn't mean that I want this any less."
I can feel tears stinging my eyes, but I swallow them away in an attempt to keep my composure. "So if you would've knocked up Athena Russel or the Alderman's niece instead, you'd be asking them the same thing?"
His mouth gaping in shock, Gale shakes his head.
"What are you talking about?" he asks me a bit too innocently. But I can see the guilt in his eyes—his reaction to the obvious truth of my statement.
"I know all about it, Gale. I overheard someone talking at school, saw you behind the Hob with Athena months ago with my own two eyes. Where you with anyone after me? Where you with Athena?" I manage to choke out. His expression softens and he adverts his eyes away from my gaze. "Well?" I ask him again.
"Katniss..." he says in a low voice, still looking at his bare feet. "It was...different with you."
"So I wasn't supposed to be like on of your merchant girls?" I ask him, not bothering trying to hold back my tears any longer. I bring my wrist up to my face to wipe them away. "Who knows how many there's been."
"It was never like that for me when I was with you!" he says, finally looking up at me while raising his voice. "How can you even think that it was? In case you've forgotten, I didn't know you were pregnant. Do you really think I would have done those things if I did? How was I even supposed realize it, Katniss? You were hiding this all from me!"
And for the first time since I met the underfed, frightened 14-year-old boy deep in the woods outside the district, Gale Hawthorne actually looks vulnerable. But at the same time, he doesn't even see everything that is wrong about his proposal and his reasons behind it. All that he cares about is doing the right thing, even if it's for all the wrong reasons.
"That's the worst part," I mutter. "You're not doing any of this because you want to. You're doing it because you have to."
Gale shakes his head at me in disbelief. "So this is what finally tears us apart then? A marriage proposal?"
Tears trail down my face as I nod my head, and when I go to leave, he doesn't try to follow.
…
The forest outside the district is quiet this time of year. There's more room for thinking. Most of the trees' leaves have already changed into brilliant shades of autumn, and others are completely bare. The air is crisp and cool, and soon the weather will grow cold. My child is due sometime around the start of winter, which makes this whole predicament even harder. Everyone is often much hungrier in the wintertime, as there is less game and food all-around. The nourishment that I need to feed the baby after he is born is already diminishing, leaving me underweight and frail.
I carry my bow for protection, but I know that I can't shoot with any sort of precision anymore. I walk as softly as I can through the woods, listening intently for predators. I know that it's not safe out here, but nothing really seems to matter anymore. We'll all die eventually—Gale, myself, our families—whether it be in the mines, from disease, in the Games, or of starvation; we will all perish young. Rarely does anyone in the Seam live long enough to die from the ailments of old age. There's no hope for any of us here. I know that I'll love my baby more than anything, but I've already failed him by bringing him into a world where there's no future for him.
I walk the snare line only because I haven't walked it in so long. I decide to make good use of my time by working to reset the snares that have remained untouched for weeks. My hands don't work as well as they once did, my joints swollen from the late stages of pregnancy. I trip a few times, but pick myself back up and dust myself off. Afterwards, I sit at Gale and my usual meeting place, shelling walnuts at dinnertime and watching the sun set behind the treeline as I think back to when things were so much simpler.
What Gale and I once had was special. Brought together by the common bond of trying to keep our families alive, we understood each other so well. But now I don't feel like I know him at all. I don't understand how he can talk about marriage knowing that I've never wanted it. How he can act as if being husband and wife will fix all of our problems.
His intentions are good, but I can't ignore what truly brought on the talk of living the rest our lives together. I know how it feels to owe someone, to feel like you need to do something to pay them back. I don't want Gale to feel like he owes me anything, or that he has to marry me because of the consequences that arose from what happened between us. Neither one of us is to blame any more than the other. I never asked anything of the sort from him, never expected it. And yet he feels so obligated to fulfill this favor to me.
It's dark when I set back to the fence that borders District 12. I use the gap in the barrier that's closest to town, since it's the biggest and squeezing through the fence in my condition is hard enough the way it is. When I stop to listen for the hum of electricity, I hear a slight buzz radiating through the chain link. Brows creasing together, I realize that it has been months since I'd found myself trapped outside the fence, and with the sun sinking down, I know this is not a good place for me to be stranded right now.
I don't have much of a choice though. My feet aching from my walk through the woods, I sit down at the base of a tree and lean my back against it to take the pressure off my swollen feet and ankles. My mouth is dry from not having had anything to drink all evening since I didn't bring a canteen along. There's a spring that runs not too far from the district, but with all the tampering going on with the water supplies, I can't take any chances by drinking from it. So I spend the next few of hours ignoring my intense thirst and trying to fight off sleep before realizing the power to the fence isn't going to be shut off anytime soon.
The already cool temperature had dropped significantly with the setting sun, and I mentally chastise myself for ending up in this position—alone, cold, and thirsty with no form of protection against any wild animal that might decide to attack. The woods are much more dangerous at night when the nocturnal predators come out, and for that reason Gale and I had never went beyond the fence after dark without the other to watch our back. It just isn't safe.
Now chilled to the bone, I eventually pick myself up and begin a slow trek towards the fence opening next to the Seam. Surely Prim or Gale will come searching for me, most likely already have. There's nothing they can do about turning the power off, but at least they'll know that I'm safe.
Worn out and tired, I make myself comfortable near my usual entrance in the fence. I can see the dim light of oil lamps pouring out of the windows of the homes in the distance and wonder if my family is panicking now that I haven't returned. Or if maybe Gale is somewhere further down the length of the fence calling my name.
The time I spend waiting passes slowly. The electricity is still on hours later and no one has shown up looking for me. It's at this point that I realize Mother and Prim must assume that I am staying with Gale tonight, and vise-verse. No one is coming for me tonight.
The thought of sleeping out here alone for the first time while pregnant is not a welcomed one, and I quietly hope to myself that the power to the fence goes off soon.
It must be around midnight now, and can't seem to keep my eyelids from drooping. I can't climb a tree to sleep in like the night Gale and I had been trapped out here, and falling asleep on the ground probably isn't the best idea. But I don't have a choice in the matter. There's no way I can keep myself awake all night even if I try. With a sigh, I shrug out of my father's old hunting jacket and lie down on a nest of dead leaves and dried-up weeds, draping the worn leather garment across my torso and taking in what little warmth it manages to offer. At least I know that it's relatively safer next to the fence since most animals tend to be wary of it.
My night is an uncomfortable and restless one. My "practice contractions" become more frequent, drawing fear and anxiety and causing an uncomfortable amount of pressure on my pelvic bone. I'm not close to term yet; I still have about six weeks left. I try to remind myself that this can't be labor and that a baby born too early has a pretty low rate of survival here.
And that there's no one around to help me if I do go into labor right now.
I worry about all sorts of things until the sun has begun to rise and I hope desperately that someone realizes that I've been missing for the past 12 hours.
But my hopes are dashed when I spend the rest of the day trying to ignore the irregular but uncomfortable contractions that persist while listening to the soft hum of the electrified fence that imprisons me.