See A/N at the end of the chapter. Thanks to dandelionsunset and greenwool for their beta and feedback. It is deeply appreciated.
Chapter 31—Crackpots and contraception
After Rye, Peeta, Katniss and Prim left, Madge knocked quietly on her parent's bedroom door. She heard a mumbled "Goodnight" from her father, then silence.
Madge felt a little sorry for Rye. Making fun of Haymitch Abernathy's drinking was practically an official sport in Panem. Rye hadn't said anything about Twelve's only Victor that hadn't been said hundreds of times before. He couldn't know what the Quarter Quell meant to those that lived through it, or to the Undersees, in particular.
With her parents asleep and the house to herself, Madge slipped into her father's office. She didn't find what she was looking for until she went through one of the secured, locked, filing cabinets. These were the filing cabinets were her father kept information that was more or less classified.
She found a folder marked "Utilities." She scribbled down how much electricity had been used each month for the last twelve months. She returned the file, locked the cabinet, and went back to her room. The sheet of paper went into her backpack. She'd give it to Gale tomorrow.
The box of clothing she'd pulled out for Katniss earlier was still sticking out. She pushed it back under her bed. Katniss had gone round and round about returning Madge's outfit, until Madge outmaneuvered her using the one argument guaranteed to work—Prim. "Don't buy something from the Hob, buy this from me. It's newer, and you'll finally have girl clothes you can hand down to Prim."
Another surefire argument—the Hawthornes—convinced Katniss to take the peach-colored dress, as well. "Pay Hazelle to alter the dress for you. You can still hand it down to Prim later."
Madge was deliberately vague about payment. "Deliver this to your mother for me,"she said, as she placed a sealed envelope and a small, lumpy, paper-and-foil bag in the sack with the clothing. "I need her help with something. We'll work out the details after that."
In the note, Madge asked Mrs. Everdeen for a consultation. The bag was coffee. Katniss had mentioned a few times that her mother adored coffee, but it wasn't something they could usually afford.
On Monday, after school, she spoke with Gale for a few minutes while he waited for Rory and Vick. She handed him the numbers she'd written down, which she had arranged into two columns. One column indicated the month, and the other listed kilowatt-hours. Predictably, the highest numbers were July and August, when the Games were shown, electricity was on in every home, and the fence was electrified most of the time.
Gale frowned at the numbers. "That's it? That's all we use?"
Madge nodded. "Seems to be."
Gale stuffed the paper in his back pocket. "Can you meet me tomorrow morning?" he said quietly. "Usual spot?"
"Not easily, no."
Gale looked troubled. "We need to talk in private."
"Come over now. We can use the basement," she suggested.
He nodded his head. "OK. Let me get the kids home. I'll meet you there in an hour. If I don't show up, it means Hazelle had other plans for me."
Madge walked home. Her dad was in his office, working at the computer. She informed him that she'd invited Gale over for a little while, and that they would be in the basement.
"You leave that door wide open, young lady," he admonished.
"Yes, sir. We will," she promised, but he was already focused on work again.
When Gale arrived, they went into the basement. As promised, they kept the door wide open. She didn't think any listening devices in other parts of the house would pick up their conversation, but just in case, she put on some music. They sat on the sofa, facing each other.
"OK," she said quietly, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. As much as possible, she wanted to be herself around Gale, not mousy Madge, or any of that persona. "Tell me your crackpot theory."
"Are you sure those numbers are accurate?" he asked her.
"Pretty sure. It was in a secured file, anyway."
"Well, I guarantee you, the Capitol doesn't want those numbers known," Gale said bitterly. "District Twelve uses just over 3 million kilowatt-hours of electricity a year. That's around 1625 tons of coal."
"Ok, I'm following you so far." Every child in Twelve learned about coal. Its geology, its formation, the different types and how it was used-all of that was part of their District's standard education. Even Madge, the wealthiest kid in the district, who would never work in the mines, knew coal conversion rates. Bituminous coal produced 1842 kilowatt-hours of electricity.
"Based on the numbers you gave me, if every building had electricity 24 hours a day, and the fence was always on, it would probably be closer to 10 million kilowatt-hours a year. That's still only about 5,500 tons of coal."
"Only?" repeated Madge, "That sounds like a lot."
"Madge, the mines produce about 2.5 million tons of coal a year. 5,500 tons is less than a day's worth of work. No wonder the Capitol wants to hide our own electrical use from us."
"Where's the paper I gave you?" she asked. She wanted to work out the math for herself.
"I burned it. I didn't want anybody finding those numbers and asking me what they meant or where I got them. "
"Wait. Did you do all this math in your head?"
"Yeah." Gale's gray eyes twinkled at her. "Impressed with my big brain?"
"We'll see. I still haven't heard your theory."
"Right. Moving on. What if instead of homes, shops and a single Municipal Grid, we were running a command center, thousands of computers and cameras, video and audio projectors, hydraulics, a self-contained ecosystem, earth-moving equipment and small-scale weapons of mass destruction?"
Madge stared at him.
"Think about the enormous power demands an Arena has," Gale said, "and what goes into building something like that. You can't just hook up an Arena to an existing grid and expect it to function properly. It has to have its own power plant."
"You think our coal goes to the Games," she deadpanned.
"Yeah. I think it builds the Arenas and fuels the Games," Gale explained. "Look. First, the location of the Arena is always top secret until the Games are over, right? Then they become tourist attractions for rich Capitol fuckers. Avoxes drive the coal trains, so they can't tell anybody where they're going.
"Second, the Capitol obviously doesn't use our coal for day-to-day power needs, but goes to great lengths to make sure there's no disruption in the supply."
Madge thought about it for a moment. "It's a plausible theory," she admitted.
"I'm glad you think so. Now—tear it apart."
Madge raised every objection she could think of.
"They could just be using the coal for steel production."
"Yeah, some of it," admitted Gale, "but only about 10% of our coal can be used for steel. Besides, Arenas need steel. The Gamemakers could just make it on site. And the other 90% is only good for fuel."
"Fair enough. How about, a small nuclear plant would work just as well—maybe even better—for an Arena."
Gale thought about it, then shook his head. "Maybe, but it seems unlikely. That would mean over 70 nuclear reactors have been built, with a new one going up every year. That's a hell of a lot of radioactive waste for the Capitol to keep track of."
They went on like that for some time. Madge finally ran out of objections and arguments. Gale sighed, rubbing his temples with his long fingers. "Would your dad know?"
"Doubt it," Madge replied. "If it is true, the last person the Capitol is going to tell is the Mayor of Twelve who has a child of Reaping age."
Gale's jaw clenched. He was frustrated.
"And until we can find out more," Madge said, not unkindly, "it's just a theory."
"Yeah, I know," Gale sighed. "I just can't stand it that there's no way for me to find out." Gale left not long after that, after a little cuddle time and kiss on her forehead. Madge pulled the elastic band out of her hair and let it fall back over her eyes. She was quiet over dinner, thinking about everything she and Gale had discussed.
Her father noticed. "Everything OK, kiddo?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Just girl stuff."
"Girl stuff? Or boy stuff?" he teased.
Madge smiled. "A little of each, I suppose."
Katniss' and Rye's arrival interrupted Madge's thoughts. Her dad seemed to make an extra effort with Rye, putting him at ease. Madge could tell he felt bad about losing his temper the night before.
While John and Rye chatted, Katniss pulled her aside and spoke quietly. "Mom says to come by tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to just come home with me and Prim? You can stay for dinner, then we'll just come back here."
"Yes, I'd love to," Madge told her. They headed downstairs. She asked for, and received, permission to go to Katniss' the following day.
The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a blur for Madge. She tuned out what was going on around her and let her mind drift back and forth between Gale's theory—she didn't find it so crackpot now—and the reason for her visit to Mrs. Everdeen.
The following day was similarly a wash. Madge just couldn't concentrate much. She found herself uncharacteristically nervous about talking with Mrs. Everdeen. Times like this, she was extremely grateful for her quiet and mousy reputation, as nobody noticed that she was too distracted to speak.
She walked home with Prim and Katniss, a little worried that Katniss would overhear what she and her mother were discussing. However, as soon as they got to the Everdeen home, Katniss changed into her hunting clothes and left. Prim went into her bedroom and closed the door.
Mrs. Everdeen brought Madge into the kitchen and told her to have a seat. To Mrs. Everdeen's credit, she didn't even blink when Madge told her she needed information about birth control. She did ask Madge a lot of questions—did she have regular periods (yes), how old was she when she got her first period (twelve), was she already sexually active (sort of), had she had intercourse yet (no), did she have a thermometer at home (yes).
Mrs. Everdeen explained about ovulation, keeping a chart of her periods, and taking her temperature every single day. She discussed various types of birth control, none of which, she warned, were one-hundred percent effective. "Never count on just one form of birth control. Even when you can get them, condoms break. Men say they'll pull out and they don't. Your period goes off schedule. Medicinal plants vary in their potency from year to year."
She gave Madge a chart and told her to fill it out everyday for six weeks, then come back for a check-up. She then handed her a small, dark, dropper-type bottle that said, "Tincture of wild carrot" on a hand-written label. She wrote out dosage instructions and side effects to keep an eye out for. "Don't take more than the recommended amount, it's toxic if you take too much. It will reduce your fertility somewhat, but if this is the only form of contraception you use, you'll be pregnant in no time."
Mrs Everdeen tapped on her notebook with her pen, then said, "Madge, I'd really encourage you to wait another 6 weeks before you have intercourse. Get to know your body a little bit more. You're one of the few girls in the district who gets adequate nutrition every day, which also means you're likely to be more fertile than most of the women in Twelve. You're young, you're healthy and you're inexperienced. That means it will be extremely easy for you to get pregnant.
"But listen, Madge. If you do have a birth control failure, come see me immediately. Not the next day, immediately. Wake me up if you have to. If I'm not here, tell Prim. She's more than halfway to being a healer herself, she's discreet and she'll know what to do."
Mrs. Everdeen was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Does John know why you're here?"
"No," Madge said.
"Does he know you're sexually active?"
"Well, not precisely, but it's safe to say he suspects it, given the lecture he gave me and Gale the other night."
"Oh," Mrs. Everdeen looked surprised. "It's Gale?"
Madge closed her eyes. Shit. "I'm not going to tell anyone, Madge," Mrs. Everdeen reassured her. "This all stays confidential. I would encourage you to have him come talk to me, though. There are herbs men can take that reduce their fertility."
That'll be a cold day in hell, thought Madge. She somehow could not see Gale sitting at this table discussing ovulation cycles. But all she said was, "I'll let him know."
"Has he introduced you to his mother yet?"
"No." In fact, they'd never discussed her meeting Hazelle.
"Well, Gale needs to correct that little oversight. Hazelle is going to be most unhappy when she learns that Gale's been properly introduced to your father, but that same courtesy hasn't been extended to her."
When they were finished, they discussed payment. They decided that, in exchange for the medication and the appointment, Madge would pay Mrs. Everdeen with the coffee, a few coins, and the outfits for Katniss.
Once they settled up, Mrs. Everdeen made some tea while they waited for Katniss. Rosemary asked after both of her parents, then commented, "You favor Maysilee, you know."
Madge looked up, a little surprised. She went to such great lengths to hide herself, it was odd to hear anybody mention her appearance. "Um, thank you. Usually, if people say anything at all, it's that I look like my mother." Nobody mentioned Maysilee. But Rosemary had been their best friend, and Madge was the same age Maysilee was when she died.
"It's how you hold yourself," Rosemary explained. "Your expression. Like there's a lot going on under the surface with you. Maysie was the same way."
"What was she like?" Madge wanted to know.
"Smarter than all of us put together," Rosemary smiled. "She noticed more, observed more. Maysie was a thinker, like you, but she could be wickedly funny, too."
Prim walked into the kitchen with her schoolbooks under her arm, "Who's wickedly funny?" she asked, putting what Madge guessed was her now-complete homework into her backpack.
"My late aunt," Madge explained, not wanting to get into it too much.
Prim didn't pry. Nobody in Twelve ever did.
When Katniss returned with a couple of squirrels and a large bag of greens, Madge helped the Everdeens prepare dinner. They had fried squirrel with onion gravy, a salad and tessera bread. It was good, but Madge found she couldn't eat one single bite of the bread. She knew what it cost, and it felt wrong for it to go to anybody except the Everdeens.
She watched the Everdeens interact with each other. Madge didn't have any right to feel jealous. Her parents were alive, she'd never gone hungry, she'd never need to take out tesserae. But watching Rosemary with her daughters did make her miss a mother's touch.
After dinner, Katniss went to the bathroom to wash her hands and brush her teeth, and returned to the bedroom to find that Madge and Prim had picked out an outfit for her and were ready to do her hair. Katniss didn't argue over the outfit. It was only jeans and a clean blouse, and she needed to change from hunting, anyway. But she adamantly refused to let them to anything to her hair.
Prim all but stamped her foot. "Oh, come on! Be a regular girl for five minutes."
"Remember what I said about getting all dolled-up for rehearsal?" Katniss said to her sister. "People will talk."
"Probably not as much now that you've performed," Madge informed her. "I heard people talk at the toasting."
"What did they say?" Prim asked.
"That Katniss is talented. I mean, some people were still horrid about it, but you really took a lot of people by surprise, Katniss. You should have seen the look on your grandparents' faces when you started singing."
"I did see. They were furious."
"Because you're good. They would have been much happier to see you fail. I made a point of watching them during your first song, Katniss, and they couldn't hide their shock. Not at first, anyway."
Katniss took the elastic out of her hair and started brushing it out. "Well, whatever happened Saturday, I don't want to give anybody extra reasons to wonder about me."
"I know you don't. But, if it helps at all, thanks to Will's endless complaining, word is out that you're Peeta's girl."
"Really?" Prim squealed, bouncing on her toes.
Katniss stopped brushing her hair and turned to face Madge. "What do you mean, 'word is out?'"
Madge rolled her eyes. "You do realize that we live in a District with only 8000 people, right? That everyone is in everybody else's business, all the time?"
"I'm not!" Katniss exclaimed, heatedly. "I'm not in anybody's business!"
"The point is," Madge interrupted Katniss before she could get into a full-blown sulk, "Complaining about you and Peeta to any townie who would listen made Will look petty, especially after you blew the lid off that reception. And like it or not, being seen as Peeta's girlfriend insulates you from some of the nastier gossip about why you're in the band."
"Doesn't do much for his reputation, though," Katniss mumbled.
"It might," Prim said. "Violet Herman was talking about it at school today with her cousins." The Hermans were a family of miners from the Seam.
"What were they saying?" Madge asked.
"That once 'the baker boy' started dating 'the hunter girl,'" Prim used her fingers to make quotation marks, "he told that wicked witch to go to hell and moved out."
"Prim!" Katniss gasped. "Language!"
"I'm only repeating what she said," Prim said reasonably. "They're proud that a girl from the Seam rescued one of the few Merchant boys everybody likes."
"But it isn't even true," Katniss said, upset. "Peeta stood up to his parents before we started seeing each other. And he didn't move out, he was kicked out, and then found another place to live. I didn't rescue Peeta. He rescued himself."
"It's all semantics, Katniss," said Madge. "Peeta started spending time with you, and days later, he's escaped a notoriously abusive home. People see a connection."
Katniss didn't say much after that, just retreated behind her mask of silent indifference. Madge suspected, however, that she'd given Katniss a lot of food for thought.
Katniss still refused to let them do her hair, insisting that she brush and braid it herself. Madge happily settled for putting Prim's hair into two French braids while Katniss watched. Brushing through Prim's long, blond locks gave Madge a few minutes of peace and contentment she didn't often get.
When it was time to leave, Madge gathered her things and thanked Mrs. Everdeen. They walked to the Mayoral Mansion, Prim and Madge shifting into small talk while Katniss remained silent. It wasn't until they arrived at Madge's house, and found Rye and Peeta already there, that Katniss brightened up.
Madge watched Peeta and Katniss. She didn't expect that the relationship between two emotionally damaged teenagers could single-handedly upend 75 years of prejudice and social structure. But they had already broken every 'Merchant-boy-uses-Seam-girl' stereotype that Merchants held. For District Twelve, it was downright rebellious. It's a start, she thought. It's a start.
First, thank you to everybody for the faves, follows and reviews. I have (hopefully) responded to everybody's reviews. I worry that I either missed some, or responded to other reviews more than once. (It was a week of interruptions). Anyway, the support that you have given this story is amazing.
A few words about the science and the background in this chapter. Minor Mockingjay spoiler ahead.
"Where does the coal go?" This question came to me after I finished Mockingjay. After the war, Twelve closed the mines and started producing medicines. The fact that their coal was no longer mined speaks volumes about how much the Capitol really needed it in the first place.
The information on District Five having all the power plants (including nuclear reactors) comes from a few sources, most of it official movie tie-ins. I can't give you links here on ff, but if you want to see an example of what I'm talking about, google "District five a message from the capitol." See the video? I can totally see that sort of ad being run during the Games. The Capitol PN (awesome site) and the Hunger Games Adventures wiki (the official video game) is another good source for world information.
I researched the amounts of coal-produced-per-miner from various mines across Appalachia, Ohio, Pennsylvania and the UK in the late 19th and early 20th century. On average, a US miner in 1905, using nothing more than picks, shovels and hand drills, produced a little over 690 tons of bituminous coal per year. Assuming there are at least 3500 miners in District Twelve at any given moment, that's just about 2.5 million tons a year. (short tons to anybody outside the US.)
DON'T DON'T DON'T DON'T use the discussion between Mrs. Everdeen and Madge for your own birth control needs. Seriously. Don't try this at home. Anything you can purchase over-the-counter at your local drugstore will be more effective and much safer than the options available to Madge.