6. Minanaya

The next day I wake up, along with the sunrise. I feel unusually rested. I would think that last night would've been one of a waking nightmare, but it was not. I can't really recall…yes. I can. It was Primrose. I lay in a hammock and Primrose held me and rocked with me back and forth. She was her same small self, but somehow, she was the one holding and steadying me. I was smiling and she was singing something. Something that I can't recall, and I curse myself, because I can never seem to fully recall the good dreams, but the bad ones always stay with me all day. They follow me around like a stray dog.

Before I can think much more about the dream, I remember that I have a purpose today, and it feels good. I look in the closet and pull out the dark green shirt with brown buttons down the front and a pair of boots. I tuck my black pants into the boots, so that nothing can crawl up my legs. I look at myself in the mirror and decide to tuck my hair into the back of my shirt. Maybe, I can actually be inconspicuous. My arrows hang down low from the hook over my bedroom door and I instinctively pick them up, slinging the sheath across my back. Just in case.

The town seems to be developing quickly. I do see that Gale and his men have commissioned the rebuilding of some of the staked off places. Where just yesterday there were tarps, there are instead piles of wood and bricks sectioned off beside each of the markers. I recognize the place that was once the library, the courthouse and the mayor's house.

In addition to the tent-like houses all over, there are some people who have assembled to make some kind of overnight Market. It's old-fashioned, mostly carts lining the outskirts of the square, but there are some who also have large clay ovens, and cows and goats. There is also the beginning of a large fountain directly in the center of the square.

With the new laws, there is also some sort of air care service, through which the Capitol sends in food for everyone once a week. There are plain things like bread, precooked meat, and cans of veggie soup. But there are also delicacies like boxes of fudge and fine wines. The mixture is enough so that now, no one feels unintegrated into the world of "fine dining" so common in the Capitol. But still, the people seem so malnourished and underfed.

Glancing around at the sunken faces and wispy frames, I wonder about how nutritious the food is. Wonder if possibly instead of sending any of those air care delicacy packages, they should only send the bread and the cooked meat. Instead of wasting care on those boxes of fudge and the fine wines they should probably be focusing only on providing sustenance to people.

My thoughts are interrupted by the force of a small child hitting my leg. I look down and it is the son of the widow whose arms are wrapped around my leg in a smiling recognition. His eyes are a deep shade of green that I've never seen, and he seems so unexplainably excited. As if he thinks I've brought him something.

"Where is your mother?" I ask, eager for him to release my leg. Children make me nervous. Since Prim, and the bombing of all of those kids in front of Snow's house, I just can't stomach them. There was also a small girl in a coat, ripped apart by a wave of rebel gunfire even before the bombing. Such small, delicate creatures so easily killed. The boy's smooth porcelain white face is splotched with red patches, and he points his chubby finger across the yard. His mother is there with her back turned dipping her hands in and out of the basin. In and out, scrubbing away dirt and ash. I walk over to the woman, her son steadily keeping up with my long strides by skipping in time with me.

"Excuse me," I say, and the woman starts, turning towards me with a slight fear in her eyes. Clearly, she is easily surprised.

"Oh! Hello." She says and her face brightens, her smile etching out over her face. The yellow teeth are barely noticeable, because the genuineness of the smile is something that I am not used to seeing.

"Um, I'm Katniss Everdeen…" I say, and she gives me an incredulous and insulted look, so I add quickly "As you know." She smiles again nodding, "I was wondering if you have somewhere to stay or a job or…anything." I squeak out feeling silly as I glance towards the small blue tent house we are standing in front of. I imagine the thin blanket inside for the flooring, the hardness of the ground and the coldness of the night. The clothes she's washing have the same hue as the dirty water even when clean. Clearly, she has nothing.

She replies by telling me that anything I need she'd love to be of service for. So, I tell her about the Victor's Village, and Haymitch and the extra bedrooms for her and each of her children. Along with the generous wage Haymitch will provide. More generous than even he knows, I think. When I finish my statement, she stares at me unblinkingly for a while and then without another word, she reaches up and hugs me almost pulling me down into the dirty tub water with her.

"Thank you! Thank you! Bless you! Thank you!" She is yelling and asks when she can come. I tell her whenever it's convenient and advise her that if she needs help with her things, I will be happy to provide it. Within the next 15 minutes she has her children, each of their 2 outfits along with her one, and a few trinkets wrapped neatly in the tarp from the stakes. We walk away leaving the four pieces of lumber staked to the ground, the only evidence that anyone ever lived on the large earth patch.

As we make our way through the square; the short woman her two children and me, one child, the same boy, still hanging onto my leg, I can't help but to notice the other people again. They are watching us; I am sure some of them envious. All of them hungry, all of them tired. I wish there was more I could do to help, but it's not as if Peeta and I need maids. Not as if we want strangers in the spare bedrooms to hear our screams or our nighttime sobs. Well, I don't anyway.

It is Haymitch's market day, so he is gone when we get to his house. He is most likely out gathering more drinks for his evening. I let the woman into Haymitch's and of course she finds her work cut out for her. I assure her that though this, Haymitch's living space, is decimated, I know for a fact that the 3 spare rooms upstairs have not been touched. That she and her children will have enough clean space to make it into their home. She thanks me. Tells me her name is Minanaya, and that she can't wait for me to see the house again after she's cleaned it. Says that I will be amazed at how clean it will be and invites me for dinner as soon as possible.

I smile lightly to myself as I stride down the steps. I feel good for having done something nice for a change. For someone else. Like a shot, I remember the pheasant that I gave Minanaya just a few days ago and realize something else that I can do for someone. Maybe, for everyone. I take off running towards the town.