Kelpie Agan, 14
From More than Chance
"Shh, shhh, it's okay Sean."
I'm trying to bounce my baby brother so that he'll stop fussing, but it's not working. Ma's out in the net shed working on fixing the net for Keegan O'Reese down the road, and Da's down at the docks, so it's just me and Sean today, like always.
"Look, see Sean? Almost time to go down to the beach!"
Sean just fusses more.
"Okay, we can go now. We have to get the driftwood for tonight, remember?" I don't think he remembers, because he's only six months, but if I talk to him like he can, maybe he will. "It's the Seabreeze Times!"
I manage to wrestle my brother into his sweater and hat that Ma knit for him; I can knit a little but not like my Ma. Once he's dressed, I wrap my green shawl around me, then pick Sean up. I used to help my Ma, but now Sean's my charge.
Carefully, I shut the door and lock it behind me, juggling Sean and the keys. "See, Sean? It's cold, but it just means the Seabreeze Times are here."
"You're mad taking the babe out like that, Kelpie Agan!"
"He's dressed up, Mrs. Odair," I call back. She lives across from us, and likes to snoop in. "We're going down to get the driftwood."
"You'll catch that babe a cold while you do it," Mrs. Odair says.
Sean waves one of his fat arms at her. "He's strong as a knot, Mrs. Odair," I say. I don't like standing up for myself, especially against one of our neighbours, but I want to get the driftwood. We can't have the Seabreeze Times without it.
"Don't come weeping when you bury the boy," Mrs. Odair says, and goes back inside her house with the peeling blue paint. I don't like her very much, but what she said makes me wrap my shawl around Sean too.
"You're warm as a coal, Sean," I whisper. I don't think he minds being outside, and my Ma always says that a babe from the ocean should be out in the air. A babe kept inside will never swim, that's what she says. I guess I was taken outside when I was a baby, because I love to swim when the ocean isn't icy cold.
Sean babbles while we walk down the road towards the docks and the beaches. Da tells us the stories from Cannery Bay, where he grew up, about the water horses that drown children that float out too far. He liked the stories so much that he named me after the kelpies that haunt the waters. I think it's good luck, because it means I'm a strong swimmer.
"Hello Kelpie, got your brother out today?"
"We're going down to the beach for the driftwood," I tell her. Mrs. Donnell is far nicer than Mrs. Odair; she has two boys a bit older than Sean, twins.
"Connor will bring it when he comes home," Mrs. Donnell says, then looks me up and down. "Have you been to school of recent?"
I shake my head. I almost never went before, but now Sean's born, I don't go at all.
"Can you figure?"
"Some, to get by. And my name, for the reapings," I tell her. What I'd like to do is go back and learn a bit more so I can write more than my name, but there's nothing for it. Ma and Da know about as much as me, just like a lot of people in District 4.
"That's good enough," Mrs. Donnell says, and pats my head. "Good luck on getting more in the new year."
"Happy Seabreeze Times, Mrs. Donnell."
"And to you, lass."
I like the houses along the road to the beaches and docks; the best ones are painted, like the bright blue one with the shiny clean windows. If I had the paint and the time, I'd go paint ours, but I don't think I could.
"Look Sean! It's the ocean!" I say, pointing with the hand that's not holding him. The air is cold on my fingertips, and the breeze is blowing my hair around a little. Sea breezes are lucky today, just like a lot of things. "And look! It's Da with his new boat and Mr. Sandroe!"
Da's a boat builder, and he's been nearly done this last boat for Mr. Sandroe for weeks now. "Da!"
He starts, then turns and waves to us. "Come on, Sean, let's say hello to Da!"
"You've brought the babe out, have you lass?" he asks once we're close enough to hear.
"A babe out in the air makes a good swimmer," I say.
"Your mother's full of the wisdom, isn't she?" Da ruffles my hair. "Out to get the driftwood, if I'm guessing."
"I want to be ready for tonight," I tell him.
"And he's a mighty helper, is he?"
I squeeze Sean tighter until he giggles. "He's the greatest of them all. He'll be a boat builder like you, just wait."
Da's accent is nice to my ears; Cannery Bay people sound different to the Rolling Four.
"There's the volunteer going by," Da said, pointing. "He'll make the District proud, you watch, lass."
I wasn't there when they announced the volunteers for this year, but Ma and Da heard it was a girl named Aria, and the boy with black hair Da's pointing to, who's cleaning fish on the dock with another boy.
"Think he'll win?" I ask. We already had a victor last year, and I like the food that the train brings in now. Da brings me sweets when he can.
"Volunteering a year early, he's got something about him that they've seen." Da looks at me fondly. "Don't you worry, lass, you're not in the running."
I don't know how to feel about that. Very relieved, because I don't want to go into the Hunger Games, but also disappointed that they think I can't do much at all. They don't want a net weaver to be in the arena.
So I smile at my father. "I'm glad about that."
"I saw Maggie down at the beaches earlier, you might see her there," Da says. I don't dare call her Maggie; she's Mrs. Flanagan if she's anything. And I won't ever talk to her; she's a victor and I'm just a net weaver girl with a baby in my arms. I take after my Ma; there's nothing else for me.
"I'll give her a wave if I see her," I promise, and now I'll have to do it, because I don't break a promise.
"Off you go, lass, we want this boat to get afloat today, and girls with babes don't lend a hand," Da says, ruffling my hair again.
"Does she have a name?"
"Not until she's in the water. Bad luck if she's in and named already."
"I'll get the driftwood and the supper," I tell Da.
"You're a good girl, Kelpie."
I try, Da, I try.
"Come on, Sean," I tell my brother, and carry him away from Da and Mr. Sandroe, away from the volunteer, and away from where Old Man Oceansong is on his boat, the Luna. Everybody in District 4 knows he lost his daughter in the first Games, but I don't remember her name. She's before my time, and even before my Da's time.
The sand crunches and shifts under my feet; this is where I like to come with my friend Thomasina when she's in her parents' shop. We talk when I go in for groceries, and on Sundays when everyone is closed down for the rest day before the week starts right over again.
"Here, you keep this," I tell Sean, handing him a smooth shell. "But don't be eating on it; we need it for tonight." I manage to tuck a few more shells into my shawl, then I find the perfect piece of driftwood; grey and twisted, just a reminder of how the ocean is.
I'd like to go to Ebb Tide someday; I've heard it has the most beautiful beaches.
The driftwood is light, just like the Seabreeze Times are supposed to be. And the music is going to be just like that tonight, when Da starts in to playing.
"The potatoes need boiling," I say, even though Sean doesn't know what a potato is yet. I'll teach him, and maybe he can boil his own potatoes in next years. Not yet, but soon enough. Then maybe I can get more learning and write a little more. Thomasina goes to school, and she has a book she writes her days down in. I'd like that, I'd like to remember everything for when I'm grown up.
On the way home, we pass by two Peacekeepers. I keep my head down; Da always tells me not to trust them at all, because they're not looking out for good. Some of them are looking to hurt girls like me, so Ma tells me I should run faster than a riptide if anyone comes after me.
I'm scared of the Peacekeepers.
Mrs. Odair isn't looking out her window while I open our front door; the fire is still burning, but lower to coals than I want it to.
"Here, you take your ball," I say, taking the damp shell from Sean's fist and replacing it with the soft ball Ma made for him. The shells jingle onto the table when I shake my shawl out. I'll set the scene up once I get the fire and the potatoes going again.
"Sail the ocean,
Fish the stars,
Seabreeze Times,
Peace shall be ours," I sing out for Sean. I don't sing well, but it's well enough for today. I don't do much right, or if it's right it's not the best, but Ma tells me I try well enough and that it's alright.
"Not everyone has to be a wave, daughter. It's good enough to be a ripple, because that makes all the difference." That's what my Ma tells me. It makes me feel like it's okay to be shy and not strong enough to work on a fishing boat. I'm ripple enough for net weaving, and ripple enough for taking care of Sean, who's going to be a wave someday.
"You're going to build a hundred boats when you're grown," I tell Sean, who isn't paying much attention. He just waves his ball. "And you'll read and write a thousand pages too." I'll make sure my brother gets schooling, even if I don't.
The fire burns, the potatoes boil, and I add them to the stew that's been cooking since this morning. A bit of fish from yesterday, some seaweed brought in, a few herbs from Ma's garden this summer. A bit of everything in a pot, and it'll make us full tonight.
"See, Sean, I'm going to make the display," I say. This is his first Seabreeze Times, and I want him to know about it. "To make it pretty."
Carefully, I set the driftwood in place, then arrange the shells around it. I think it's beautiful, especially when I put the candlestick in back of the driftwood.
"Just wait until tonight, then you'll understand," I tell my brother.
He doesn't listen, but that's alright. He'll understand later.
I sit and watch the stew and my brother at the same time until Ma and Da come home, tired, but happy because of tonight.
"Thank you, daughter," Ma says, kissing the top of my head when she sees the stew.
"No trouble, Ma."
"I see you got the driftwood."
"Sean helped; he's as strong as a knot."
Ma reaches down and picks Sean up. "He'll make a good swimmer in a few years."
"When the water warms a little, I'll take him out and in."
"Watch out that your namesakes don't pull him in," Da says, but he's teasing.
"Da, the kelpies are only out in Cannery Bay," I tell him.
"The ocean's an ocean, lass."
The ocean's an ocean, and the ocean holds all the memories of everyone who's come before us. Sometimes, when I'm swimming, I can feel all the people who've lived in District 4, ever since Panem was Panem, and even before.
"Could we light the candle?" I ask.
"Before supper?" Ma asks, her eyebrow raised.
"It'll be so beautiful."
"Before or after, makes all the same; the Seabreeze Times are already here," Da says. "I'll fetch the matches."
"Sean hasn't heard the song before," I say. "I want him to see it all." I want one of his first memories to be the candle and the driftwood, because of how beautiful they are.
"Shall I light it, or shall you?" Da asks, once he has the match in hand. I shake my head.
"You light it, Da."
Slowly, Da lights the match, then the candle; it shines its light on the driftwood and shells, and it's just so beautiful. It makes me happy to live in District 4, out of all the Districts in Panem.
Ma starts quietly, and we all join in.
"Welcome Winter,
Bring thy cheer,
We welcome all your tidings here.
O'er sea or storm
Or ocean foam
Bring thy joy into our home.
As sea breezes are easy
Free and clear,
So is your presence here.
Welcome Winter,
Great or small,
Bring your blessings to us all."
Tonight, Da will play his fiddle, and I will watch as Ma will dance with Sean, and by herself, and she will pull me up and spin me round a few times before I sit to watch again, until the candle has burned itself low and Sean is asleep in his cradle. When Da's fingers are tired, then the fiddle will go quiet, and the Seabreeze Times will be over.
I think it's alright to be a ripple, because even ripples can watch the Seabreeze Times. And if I'm a ripple, then I can push my brother just enough to be a wave someday, and I can help my Ma with the net weaving.
Ma's right when she says a ripple can make a difference, even if it's going to be a tiny one. And this ripple is going to enjoy the blessings Winter is going to bring us, and the new, good year that's going to come after.
Maybe a ripple can change the world, just a little.