Chapter 12: Something New & Something Old
Four years before the 74th Hunger Games,
Morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the quaint little shop nestled in the heart of the Merchant side of District 12. Great aunt Dottie's shop stared at her, judging her in silence. The little shop had belonged to her great grandfather but a sworn spinster great-aunt Dottie inherited it over her sister who'd married their childhood friend, Carina's grandfather. Great aunt Dottie kept it open for years after her own father had passed and many of the shops around had been sold or removed.
It was admirable and if Carina had to be honest she looked up to her great-aunt's strength and tenacity but her prickly nature made her difficult to get along with. It didn't help that great-aunt Dottie didn't get along with her grandfather despite growing up with him alongside Carina's grandmother, Dottie's only sister.
Taping her feet, Carina nervously stared at the weathered sign of the shop painted in a faded powder blue with red letters too chipped to be read. In front of the dirt and soot covered window, she could see three mannequins dressed in dresses of cotton, satin and lace—probably the most expensive of great-aunt Dottie's works. But they were old and the style was outdated, something someone might've worn two or three decades ago.
With a shaky breath, she pushed the creaky door with the closed sign open. A quiet distorted jingle echoed through the small shop before she heard some rustling in the distance.
"You're late." Great-aunt Dottie said, her stern voice echoed through the quaint and weathered room of the shop floor as Carina stepped inside. She came out of the shadows dragging her feet, the limp prominent in her walk. Great aunt Dottie was a tall woman, with a swan-like neck covered in a light scarf with tired green eyes and a tan face marred with deep set wrinkles with white hair twisted into a bun with a butterfly pin holding it up. "Don't just stand there with your mouth wide open, I've got a long day ahead of me and Edith still hasn't had her breakfast yet." She said, motioning behind her, moving the skirts of her patched navy dress to show her only companion.
The white fluffy cat with orange patches stretched out in front of Carina before circling around her as if she was checking her. Its spoiler demeanour and gait with its head held high was amusing to watch, it looked almost human-like to Carina. That was Edith, great-aunt Dottie's only companion and her almost child.
No surprise that the damned cat managed to get an attitude. She was spoiled as much as the profits of great-aunt Dottie's little shop allowed her to be.
"Here, kitty." Carina softly called out to her with a smile. Edith sniffed around her for a moment before turning her head away.
Without another glance her way, Edith sauntered back to her owner, brushing her face against great-aunt Dottie's legs while meowing affectionately.
"She's gonna keep giving you some attitude until she gets fed. Did ya get her breakfast?" Great aunt Dottie asked impatiently. "She's starving and so am I."
"Yes, the butcher said 'hi' as well."
"And did you stop by the grocers and the bakers?"
She nodded and turned to grab the three paper packages in her leather satchel, feeling Edith's hungry eyes on her. "Here."
"Mrs Mellark's getting stingy again. I pay her more than those other customers and she—" Great-aunt Dottie closed the paper bag holding the bread and turned her attention to the grocery and meat. "At least Des doesn't disappoint with his cuts."
"He said he packed extra for you."
"He better have, I pay extra."
The butcher seemed like he'd give her extra anyway without asking.
And somehow, she didn't feel it was right to tell her about how the butcher had asked how her aunt was doing. He seemed a little too interested in her great-aunt's affairs. But it seemed great-aunt Dottie knew as a sad almost sorry smile danced on her face, it was gone as soon as Carina had seen it.
She wasn't as surprised as she should be. The butcher was an old friend of her grandfather too. He, like her great-aunt and grandmother, had also grown up with her grandfather. They were close but admittedly, Carina's father's death had put some distance into all of Carina's grandfather's relationships. He'd almost become a recluse after his only son and child had passed.
Though, sometimes the butcher gave a few of the scrap cuts to her grandfather when he could and for that Carina was grateful. Still, she was sure her grandfather mourned the friendships he once had, knowing they'd never ever be the same.
Sometimes, Carina wondered if she would be like her but she couldn't imagine not being around Gale or losing him. The two had been tied together since they had first laid their eyes on each other and somehow Katniss had joined them. She couldn't imagine losing those two.
There was no way she could, Twelve was a small district after all and she had no plans to lose touch with them.
"Well, don't just stand there." Great aunt Dottie's voice echoed from the back. "Follow me and lock the front door. I don't need no thief trying to break in. Already had someone try that a week back."
"Is that how you got your injury?"
"Your grandfather didn't tell you?"
"N-no, not really."
"Then, yes." She grunted, opening another door at the back of the shop that revealed stairs leading up to her home upstairs. "Damned thief. Wasn't enough breaking in and tryin' to get to the safe, he had to go and…"
Her limp was more prominent as she struggled to walk upstairs before Carina helped her. Her great-aunt grumbled a quiet thanks and went straight into the kitchen.
Soft scent of daisies and cotton greeted her when she popped her head up. Great aunt Dottie's apartment was a nice symphony of colors with a peach sofa and bright blue pillows along with a white faded rug—the only faded piece of furniture in her apartment. But like everything in Twelve, there was a light dusting of coal covering everything.
"Did you make those by yourself?" Carina pointed to the pillows and the faded rug. An attempt to make conversation.
Great aunt Dottie grumbled out quietly. "Only the pillow. It took me a while to make those pillow covers and the rug was your great grandfather's."
Along the walls were old pictures in frames of people Carina could vaguely recognize. Her grandmother's young self smiled demurely at her grandfather, both dressed for their wedding in old hand-me-downs. Her grandfather grinned brightly. Great aunt Dottie even had a soft smile on her face as she stood next to her sister in another picture—another wedding day photo but she wasn't really looking at her sister, no, her eyes were looking at Carina's grandfather.
Curiously, Carina looked at her great-aunt Dottie. She didn't even turn her head, busying herself to make her late breakfast. She didn't even glance at the pictures on the wall as if she was avoiding it, turning her back to them and making sure they were out of her eyesight.
Then why didn't she take those pictures down? The question slipped out of Carina's mouth but she clamped her mouth shut and observed her great-aunt who moved like she was burdened by something she could never tell anyone.
Carina turned away. More pictures of the laughing trio: her grandmother, great-aunt and her grandfather. They all gathered for each milestone moment including the birth of her father.
There was even a childhood picture of her father as he smiled brightly at the camera. Her parents' simple wedding, her mother's bright smile that Carina barely even remembered. She looked more like a stranger to her than anything. What was she like? What did she talk like? Carina didn't know. Her mother was a stranger on the wall with her father next to her.
Carina paused when she noticed a baby Roan and her young two year old self.
"When did you–"
"Oh, that old picture?" Great aunt Dottie craned her head over to the wall of pictures and squinted. "I don't really remember. Your father took it, I leant him my camera and he took it."
"But you didn't give him the pictures."
"I didn't manage to." She replied in a quiet hushed voice, her face so sad that it looked like she'd cried. "Well, who told him to go down the mines, anyways? I told him to come work at my shop but that boy never listened and now look! Left behind you and your brother and that old man of yours—your stupid grandfather. Has he finally lost his senses?"
Carina drew her lips into a thin line and bit the insides of her cheek to stop herself from losing her temper. "He's just the equipment manager." She bit out softly.
"So he tells ya." Great aunt Dottie picked up the knife and hacked the meat Carina had picked up from the butcher's into smaller pieces. "You don't know how quickly things change down there. One minute you're looking after the equipment or manning the carts and the next you're back down there and a mine collapses."
"Th-that won't happen. They've improved the conditions."
Her great-aunt looked up. Her neatly tied bun was not so neat as few tendrils of white escaped it's ribboned prison. "You…you're a really naive child, aren't ya?"
Carina frowned. "N-no, I'm not. I just know that things are gonna alright."
"Ha." She tossed the meat into the pan but half of it, the other half, she threw it onto a fine but old china plate and put it on the floor for Edith. "Does that brother of yours act like you and that grandfather of yours as well?"
Carina paused. Roan was not like them at all. More angrier and fiercer than either of them. He always had something to say, much like great-aunt Dottie. But at the same time, he was nothing like great-aunt Dottie with his bursts of anger that she feared would lead to violence one day.
"No." Carina answered quietly. "He's not like us at all."
"Good." Great aunt Dottie said with a lazy grin. "At least someone's got their head fixed on their shoulders in that shack your grandfather calls a house."
"It's not a shack."
"It's not a house either."
"Grandpa and grandma built that place."
"Doesn't make it any less of a shack." Great aunt Dottie spat out and brought two plates, placing it down on the small dining table covered by an old faded printed tablecloth. "Sit down."
The plate of egg, bacon and bread looked inviting, her stomach ached and mouth watered just at the sight but she swallowed and turned away. Her pride was too big for her to listen to her great-aunt. "I already ate." She said lowly.
Great aunt Dottie pulled up a chair and motioned to it. "Sit." She commanded. "And I'm not asking."
"I already ate."
"And I'm not arguing with you Carin. Sit down!"
With a huff, Carina sat down and picked up the knife and fork on the sides. Her stomach rumbled quietly like it was humming in approval of the meal in front of her. Even if her mouth didn't salivate at the food in front of her, her stomach still ached for more.
She didn't want to be seen as greedy and tore the bread into small pieces, dipping it with the yoke of the fried. A quick glance to her apathetic great-aunt and she took a hesitant bite into the yolk dipped bread. The creamy egg yoke that was a delicacy in her house and the fresh bread that was toasted both tasted divine. She hadn't even tried the bacon. That was even more foreign to her.
"You remembered your manners." Great aunt Dottie remarked, sandwiching her egg and bacon between two buttered slices of bread. She added a thin slice of cheese and took a bite. "It's good to remember them but it's better to enjoy the food you've been given."
"I do enjoy it." Carina said with her muffled voice and her mouth full of her second and real breakfast of the day.
Her cold great-aunt smiled and shook her head, leaning over across the table to wipe her face. "I can see that now." She pulled back and stared at the door in silence. The room had grown again and even the light music great-aunt Dottie turned on from the radio did nothing to quell the sudden loneliness. "It would've been real nice if that brother of yours joined us and your grandfather too."
"Roan's got school."
"He doesn't even learn a thing. I heard from your grandfather that he's been tutoring the older kids behind the burnt ruins of the old Grocers."
"He has." Carina shrunk back and poked her fork into the egg. "Grandpa's not too pleased with him."
Great aunt Dottie snorted. "Good. He should keep that old man of yours on his toes."
"It's not good for him to attract that much attention."
"It won't be good for him to live like a rat—he's not your old man."
Biting her tongue and with a shaky hand she reached for the glass of water, her great-aunt had set aside for her. She shrunk into her seat, making herself small so she wouldn't start an argument. She didn't like to argue and all everyone in her family did was fight and argue over things they could never fix.
To her great-aunt, Carina looked pitiful. She knew with one glance just what her grand niece was like and it pained her to no end to see herself making her own self so small, tucking herself into the shadow. Her great-aunt eyed her with worry. She didn't say anything but her loud and slow chewing was grating on Carina's ears.
The loud ticks of the clock married with their slow chews and the scrapping of cutlery was only building Carina's anxiety up like a crescendo. Her skin felt cold as little droplets of water rose to the surface of her skin.
Yet no one spoke a single word. Carina couldn't pluck up the courage to do so. She wouldn't. She wanted to maintain whatever uneasy peace the two had struck up.
Great aunt Dottie, however, didn't care for the uneasy peace. "You're the quiet kind, aren't ya?"
"I'm not." But she was.
"Oh but you are." Great-aunt Dottie piled her plate on top of Carina's gathering the cutlery together and plopping them on top of the piled up plates. "And you're timid, scared to rock the boat. Only thing you've ever fought for is to keep the peace."
She scoffed. "I'd have you know, I can argue quite a bit."
"I'm sure you can." Great-aunt Dottie let out a throaty laugh, her entire body shaking with laughter but the way she laughed, it was like she hadn't laughed in years. A fond smile was the only remnant of joy left in the aftermath of her laughter but that too was gone as quickly as it had come.
"When are we going to open the shop?" She changed the subject. She heard the sound of rushing water and the quiet scrubbing. She could smell the soap from where she sat. "You have dish soap?"
"A luxury, I know." The only comment from her great-aunt who'd gracefully avoided her question of the shop's opening. "Your grandfather…" She began slowly. "Sent you here for a reason, you know."
"I don't." Carina answered. "All I know is that he wants to keep me out of the woods."
Her great-aunt chuckled. "And out of trouble, away from that Hawthorne boy."
"He's not trying to keep me away from Gale. He's just worried that I'll get in trouble one day."
"He's not wrong." Great-aunt Dottie turned off the taps and grabbed a dishcloth to wipe the plates and cutlery before she stored them away on the drying rack. "That boy, Gale, has good intentions but going into the woods beyond the fence is risky business. You're caught and you'd be lucky if they just flog you."
"What if I'm unlucky?"
"Public execution." Great-aunt Dottie answered without hesitation or an ounce of kindness in her voice. "Or they'll turn you into avox. I know you like the quiet but you don't want to be an avox, do you?"
"No one wants that."
"No." She echoed back, turned around to face her. "That's why you gotta listen to your old man on this one. Roan's not doing too bad but you—you're going past the fences when you don't need to. Gale has to go past those fences but you don't."
"I don't want him to be alone. He's my friend." Her great-aunt giggled as if she was laughing at a joke that only she understood. Carina clamped her mouth shut, a light red spreading across her cheeks in embarrassment. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing." Her great-aunt shook her head and turned around to set the dishcloth down to dry. "You're really naive, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Carina said. "But I know you two used to go in those woods past the fence with grandma and Gale's grandpa."
"And now we don't." Her great-aunt swiftly replied. "Your grandfather planted trees and plants from seeds of whatever we foraged, painstakingly so, hiding them from everyone and grew mushrooms in a room he built just so your father and his grandchildren would stay out of trouble. Do you know how hard it was for him to grow those things, Carin?"
Carina cocked her head to the side, confused. Her great-aunt was defending her grandfather, the man she'd been insulting the minute she walked in. But even through the insults, it looked like the two old friends shared some similarities and the same mindset.
"I-I don't know."
"All that curiosity, wasted on nothing." Great aunt Dottie mumbled before she said in a louder voice. "Nothing grows in Twelve, Carin." Her face dropped, the wrinkles growing deeper and her eyes falling lower. "Nothing." She repeated. "Nothing's allowed to. Not plants, not ambition, not wealth and…not even love." Her voice gradually grew quieter and quieter. "All we have is coal and it's not ours to take. The damned coal and the Peacekeepers will stomp it all out before anything can even blossom. Your grandfather gave a lot to keep you and your brother safe."
"I just want to help." Her great-aunt let out a deep sigh and Carina ignored her. "I don't want him to continue breaking his back to bring food on the table when I can help."
"I'm sure you do and Gale has nothing to do with it."
"He doesn't."
"I don't believe that." She turned away and dragged herself over to her living room. "Get me my walking stick." She said, pointing to the stand next to the couch.
The early morning light cast a feeble glow through the tattered curtains, highlighting the colorful worn furniture in great-aunt Dottie's humble dwelling. Edith stretched lazily on a faded armchair, seemingly indifferent as she purred contently curling around herself.
Carina hesitated, her internal struggle mirrored in Edith's jade indifferent gaze that was trained on her. She felt for a moment that maybe she should say 'no' and go home in a huff of anger but unfortunately, her great-aunt was right. Carina hated arguments. She hated conflict so she stood up and like a good girl, she did as she was told and grabbed great-aunt Dottie's cane from the stand.
As she handed the cane to her great-aunt, the old woman's gaze softened yet the slight shaking of her head told her that she'd somehow disappointed her great-aunt. "You can say no if you want to, you know that, right?" She took the cane and stood up with its support with Edith rising with her.
"It's not the right thing to do." She said, choosing not to voice out her thoughts.
"Because I have a limp? Do you think I'm incapable of taking care of myself?"
"I never said that."
"There's a reason your grandfather worries about you going into the woods more than that Hawthorn boy." Great aunt Dottie said, her voice low but stern. "Your grandparents planted those plants so that we'd have something to eat even through the worst of it all in places where they wouldn't be seen easily—that's against the Capitol laws." She reminded her great niece. "And we can't afford to get caught. We can't afford to lose what little we have. You get caught in the woods and they'll start digging up everything about you and once they find out about your grandfather's little garden, the entire district's gonna be the one punished."
Carina's determination flickered momentarily, replaced by a sense of guilt. "I know that…I—"
"Speak up, child!" Great aunt Dottie yelled, motioning to her ears with one hand and raising the other. "I can't hear you. Do you want your family to get into an even bigger trouble?"
"No, I don't."
"No. You don't." She repeated as Edith stretched out again with long meow, grabbing her attention. "Your friends' get caught, they'll only be punished for going past the fences but you…you'll have it worse."
"I don't want to abandon Gale and Katniss."
"It's not abandoning them—you—you're choosing yourself like I did."
"And where'd that get you?" Carina mumbled without an ounce of sympathy. She bit her tongue as soon as she realized her mistake and she expected her great-aunt to start cursing her.
Tentatively, Carina looked up. Great aunt Dottie's face surprised her. It wasn't twisted in rage or sadness but she looked a little proud. "Would ya look at that? You do have a little fire in you,"
"But going into the woods isn't the only reason, he let me come here, is it?" She quickly changed the subject before her great-aunt could carry on.
Great-aunt Dottie shook her head. "At least you're sharp." She quipped. "And right." She added in, grabbing the keys to the shop. "There's three reasons why you're here. One of 'em was to keep you busy enough to not wander past those fences and the secondly, I actually requested to have you here. I heard you had a talent for sewing. It'd be a shame if it was wasted on nothing."
"You think I have a talent."
"Or so that old man of yours tells me but we'll see."
Her eyes lit up. "I do, no, I mean I am talented. I like sewing and stitching and embroidery. I taught myself from grandma's old books."
"Like I said we'll see how good you are." Great-aunt Dottie said with a twinkle in her eyes and Carina grinned but her smile fell.
Her great-aunt had only told her of the two reasons why she was there. The third, she avoided it. "Those aren't the only reasons, are they? You said 'three' but you only gave me 'two' reasons why I'm here."
"Sharp. No," Great-aunt Dottie sighed. "I didn't."
"I saw grandpa that night when those people from the Capitol came. He looked scared…"
"Terrified even?" Her great-aunt offered and Carina nodded. "Who wouldn't be if important people from the Capitol arrive at their doorstep, asking about things they shouldn't or things that should've been left forgotten in the past, doesn't help that your old man and I are one of the few of the fossils in Twelve along with Des, of course." Her voice got lower until it was barely above a whisper as she mumbled to herself. "I don't even know how they found out about what happened back then."
Carina repeated her great-aunt's last words in her head with caution, being careful that her inner thoughts didn't dare leak outside. What was she talking about? She had no idea but it was obvious that what her great-aunt was talking about was something that wasn't meant for her ears or anyone's.
As much as she hated her great-aunt's words, she hated arguments. Knowing her great-aunt, if Carina pressed her for more, she'd throw a fit. Her curiosity was not worth starting an argument so early in the morning.
So she did what she did best, she avoided the topic entirely and reached for the door, leading to the shop.
"I think it's time to open the shop." She said, cutting through her great-aunt's quiet barely audible rants.
"Oh, it is? Isn't it?" Great-aunt Dottie blinked and looked around before taking out a small cracked pocket watch that barely ticked but somehow still managed to tell the time. "I'll lead the way then, come on then Edith." She cooed at the spoiled cat and Edith came bounding towards her with loud chirping meows.
No other word was spoken between the two as great-aunt Dottie led her down the steps back to the shop. Despite what her great-aunt had said, it was actually Edith leading the way, the ragdoll with her fluffy tail held high strutting down the steps and jumped the last step before cocooning herself off to the side.
"Good girl, staying out the way for me." Great-aunt Dottie cooed under her breath, scratching Edith's head as the ragdoll purred quietly.
She turned away from the curled cat and parted the string curtains that Carina had passed through before to stop in the center of the small shop floor. She clapped her hands once and stopped Carina from flipping over the sign that said 'closed'.
"Not yet." Great-aunt Dottie said and flipped the sign back to 'closed'. "I still need to sort out some orders while you—" She looked around the shop floor. "Hmm. How good did ya say your embroidery was?"
"I didn't." Carina only told her she embroidered, never how good she was. "I can show you…if you let me." She could've bragged and said she was good enough to be on par with the old woman but she'd hate to disappoint her great-aunt if she wasn't.
It seemed like her great-aunt knew what was on her mind as she turned away and climbed up a small step over to the raised floor overlooking the shop floor to pull a bag out of the one of the tall shelves that lined the walls of the shop. The thick canvas bag fell out and crashed onto the floor with a loud this but great-aunt Dottie paid it no mind, dropping to the floor to pick through the bag.
She took out a crudely cut piece of fabric and placed it on the raised floor in front of her, shutting the bag and shoving it back into its hiding spot. She then left the cut pieces of fabric and marched over to the small station with all her sewing supplies, taking out a small kit of needles and thread and tossing that over her shoulders haphazardly.
The kit almost broke and spilled out it's guts but despite its odds, it stayed intact and great-aunt Dottie swooped it off the floor before grabbing the scrap fabric pieces and handing it to Carina.
"Some scrap pieces of cotton and a few spools of colored threads. I trust you won't waste my time and the scraps." Said her great-aunt, holding her materials in Carina's hands. "They might be scraps but they're still…precious to me."
With a nod, Carina took the scraps and the kit. "Where should I sit–"
"Over there," Great-aunt pointed to the counters by the register. "Over the counter or you can sit here by the raised floor while I work, just know I will be watching to see if you'll be slacking."
"I won't."
"You better not, I don't like slackers and your grandfather told me you're a hard worker."
Carina didn't say another word and took a seat by the only window that had a sill. Her great-aunt only raised a brow but said nothing. She wasn't pleased that Carina hadn't taken either of her suggested spots yet she raised no complaints, Carina was still, after all, in her sight.
In silent focus, Carina unraveled a spool of blue-colored cotton thread and rubbed it between her thumb and index finger before attempting to thread it into the needle. It took two tries and a mocking laugh from her great-aunt before she finally managed to get the thread in.
She didn't immediately start her embroidery, instead, she pulled her head back and stared at the plain cotton piece of fabric on her lap. Her great-aunt hadn't given her an embroidery hoop—not that she needed one but it would've helped a little.
She traced out an image of a simple aster in her mind first before overlining it on the fabric with the needle, eying each of the invisible petals before she put the needle to fabric. Lightly humming under her breath, she worked to outline the aster with thread then filling it with another blue, a much paler blue.
Despite her great-aunt's silence, Carina could feel her great-aunt hovering over her shoulders as she skittled around her little shop with her arms full of her half-finished and finished works. From the corners of her eyes, she caught a few glimpses of her great-aunt neatly separating the finished clothes into piles on the raised floor as customers walked in. They paid, spoke a few words and spared her a glance before leaving.
It was the same every time. Carina didn't pay them any mind and they did the same in return. She was far too focused on her task to notice the hour fly by. When she was done, she held up the scrap piece of fabric up for her busy great-aunt to see.
"Not bad, not bad at all." Great-aunt Dottie croaked with a small grin as she took the fabric from her great-niece's hands and held it up to the small lamp by the register. With narrowed eyes, she examined each and every stitch on the fabric before she turned to Carina. "You," She pointed at the girl by the window. "Forget about going past the fence. I need you here, not wasting your talents hunting game or digging up mushrooms and picking fruits. Your hands are needed here, not there."
"So I passed?"
"Did I say otherwise?" Carina shook her head and great-aunt Dottie turned away, hiding her smile. "Now, I want you to work on a few pieces—I was gonna do 'em myself but as you can, I'm kinda swamped. There's gonna be a wedding on the merchant side soon and I need to work on the bride's dress while you," She pointed to the pile set aside. "are gonna make me some handkerchiefs. Not hard work, they're cheap and a lot of merchant folks love to get 'em from me—y'know, love tokens and what not. You can do that, right?"
"I know I can."
"Good and when you're done—"
The jingle of the front cut her off and she plastered on a painted smile that was quickly wiped away when her eyes landed on the masked girl and her companion. Great-aunt Dottie turned to Carina with a pointed gaze and Carina jumped to her great-aunt's side.
Plain white mask, devoid of all emotion and expression, moved side to side lifelessly, scanning the shop through its hollowed eyeholes. She took one step forward and Carina pulled her great-aunt back by two measured steps, that wasn't gone missed by the unmasked companion of the girl.
"What a quaint little shop, you've got here!" The masked doll-like girl spoke as she smoothed out her red and black dress that covered her arms and neck.
She even wore opaque black tights with knee-length boots and black gloves on her hand. Not one inch of her skin could be seen. Her hair was the only part of her that gave her any sense of identity apart from her clothes. Dark chocolate brown hair pulled into a sleek ponytail tied up by a cherry ribbon with tendrils of brown framing her mask.
She really was like a doll come to life and if Carina could mute the sounds, she'd imagine hearing the creaking of porcelain every time the girl moved. Her assistant, on the other hand, was fairly ordinary. More ordinary than what she'd picture Capitol folks to be like.
"What can I…um get for you…" Great-aunt Dottie tried to ask after plucking some courage. Her head moved a little to Edith who'd scurried off upstairs in fear of the masked girl. Poor girl. Carina didn't blame her one bit for escaping with her tail tucked behind her legs.
"I'm Galeria Walston." The masked girl introduced herself with a forced confidence and a slight tremor in her body. "This is my father's assistant, Serval Blanchett, you two can ignore him and take my measurements."
Serval rolled his eyes and took a step back, scanning the shop while great-aunt Dottie eyed him warily. He wore a long pale gray tweed coat with twill weaves of different shades of gray lightly thrown on, even the sleeves were sticking out. Underneath that coat, he wore an unbuttoned black collared shirt that seemed just tailored for him, a light woolen vest paired on top with tight gray pants and high polished black leather boots that were laced up on his feet.
"For?"
"I need a new dress."
"What's the occasion?"
"Do you get paid to ask questions?" Galeria snapped and Carina wanted to shrink back into the shadows, remembering the spoiled girl from nights before. "Honestly, they said you were the best seamstress in this stupid little district but if this is the best…I can't imagine what the worst is like."
Great-aunt Dottie cracked her jaw and let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, aren't you something…" She was going to curse at that girl but held herself back. "I'm just asking so I don't make no mistakes when I make your dress."
"I want a coat as well."
"Let's focus on the dress."
"Can't you do both?" The girl snapped. "Or are you that incompetent?"
Great-aunt Dottie took in a sharp breath and shared a look with Carina. "Carin, got get my measuring tape."
Carina didn't need to be told twice as she disappeared and reappeared with the tape alongside a tattered old book that Galeria looked at like it was a disgusting little thing.
"Alright then, if you would just step right here," Great-aunt Dottie pointed to the raised floor. "Carina will take your measurements." And she turned to Carina, asking her in a quiet voice. "You have measured someone before, right?" Roan, Gale and maybe Prim were the only one she could think of at that moment so she nodded. "Good. Don't disappoint me. I can't lose this one."
Surprisingly, Galeria didn't complain anymore. She was silent except for the light interrupted hums under her breath so out of tune that Carina was convinced that the girl in front of her was tone deaf, not that it mattered.
Serval stood there by the entrance but off to the side like an obedient dog. His face was blank like the mask his charge wore; his eyes were so cold yet so detailed that Carina paused to check him out.
He looked far younger than she expected him to in the light of the morning sun compared to their disastrous and uneventful first meeting at midnight. He was a little handsome, nothing like Gale. He was cold while Gale was warm.
But she didn't really like the eccentric appearance of the Capitol folks and his was hard to ignore with his strange two-toned hair and two toned eyes of blue and black that held a slight spark of madness or the way his eyes raked over her.
She swallowed and hurried to finish measuring Galeria before she scurried back to her little spot by the window. She only hoped, neither of the Capitol pair would even address her but her hopes were dashed when Serval's eyes landed on her and his lips quaked with a hint of smile. "You," He said, looking over at her. "You're that mining equipment manager's granddaughter, Catrina, wasn't it?" He asked and her eyes grew cold.
She hated being called Catrina. That wasn't the name her parents gave her.
"It's Carina." Great-aunt Dottie corrected with a crumble.
"You're Mr Semor's granddaughter, we spoke last night, didn't we?" Galeria chirped and Serval's eyes darkened.
"Galeria, focus on your measuring." Was all he said and she went silent, turning her head away. She was shaking a little. "Sorry about that, Ca—"
"Ignore her, she's just a helper." Great-aunt Dottie said, trying to spare Carina.
Serval's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "I was speaking to her." He said icily and great-aunt Dottie nodded curtly, stepping back to lead Galeria to the range of limited fabrics she had in stock. "So Carin—"
"Carina." Carina corrected, almost sounding like she was meowing. "My name's Carina not Catrina."
"Alright, Carina." He said with a quiet laugh like she'd said something humorous. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen." She answered. "I'll be fifteen soon when November comes."
"You're five years younger than me." He mused and she said nothing, picking up her needle. "So," He began awkwardly. "How long have you been working here?"
"Not that long, just started today."
"Must've been hard to get this job."
"Not really." She didn't know why she was telling him all of this but she was afraid what he'd do if she didn't answer his questions. "Dottie's my great-aunt, my grandma was her sister. The shop's been in my grandma's family for years."
His two-toned eyes lit up. "You said this shop's been in your family for years?" Carina nodded. "How long are we talking about?"
"I don't know. You'd have to ask great-aunt Dottie." She answered without thinking or putting much effort in, hoping he'd move on and leave her be.
He nodded and craned his head to search the shop for great-aunt Dottie but every now and then, his eyes would linger to her form. He'd watch her for a while, his eyes fixed on her eyes, waiting for her to look up.
"Dottie, wasn't it?" Serval asked with a false bravado and a silver tongue. He flashed a charming smile as he threaded his fingers through his hair while Carina snuck a glance at him. He really was handsome.
Great-aunt Dottie's face hardened. She let out a deep sigh and didn't even bother to smile. "What is it you want?" She asked so damn tired of the Capitol pair.
"I was just asking your…grand-niece," He motioned towards Carina and carried on "about this little shop of yours."
"And what about it?"
"How long has your family been running it?"
"A while."
"A decade then."
Great-aunt Dottie chuckled. "You're gonna have to go further than that."
"Hmm." He hummed. "Six decades then."
"Over a century actually," Her great-aunt corrected. "My grandfather set this shop up but if you want to be…precise then my great-grandmother had a stall right here, before dark days offering little services like fixing holes or changes, just little things. That stall became a shop and here we are."
"Survived the dark days and thrived. How admirable." Like he was mocking her family. "Your family has been here for a while."
"You could say that."
"64 years…maybe?" He asked tersely.
Her great-aunt stilled and slowly looked up at Serval. "I asked if you were running the shop sixty years ago, you know during the 10th annual—"
"I heard you the first time." Great-aunt Dottie cut him off, her hand going to her leaping chest with flared eyes and a grimace on her face. "I wasn't running the shop back then if that's what you're asking, my pa wanted me to get an education, no matter how big or small it was, so I spent most of my time in a cramped classroom, not the shop so I don't know what you're asking of me."
"Noted." Serval clicked a pen and Carina jumped. When did he even take out a pen and a pad to write on? It wasn't even a paper pad, it was like a metal and glass slab that he scribbled some things on before grinning at a jumpy Carina. "You weren't here then."
"No." Her denial was swift and straight to the point. "I was only fourteen 60 years ago and my memory's not that sharp."
"You or your grandparents ever…I don't know, travel outside the district?"
"What kinda questions are these?" She fired back. "Nobody's ever traveled after the district lines were drawn unless they're reaped and we're from Twelve."
"So you are." He hummed and looked over at Carina again. "But you were here, sixty years ago."
"I didn't just pop into existence last night so yeah, I was here. What does it matter?"
"You remember anything from that year—any, I don't know any…memorable people?"
Her great-aunt scoffed. "You're playing me. I just told you my memory's not that great and you go and pick on an old spinster like me! Is this some sorta sick joke, you folks from the Capitol do to outsiders?"
"Not at all." Serval said, trying to ease the tension again.
"Serval!" Galeria hissed at her father's assistant. She sounded embarrassed.
If Carina could see underneath the mask, she'd know that Galeria's cheeks and ears had turned a sharp red against her pale cheeks.
"I am so sorry for him." The spoiled girl quickly but reluctantly apologized. "He's a little too curious for his own good. I've been telling my father to rein him in but you know how it is; my father has the last say on everything and Serval's a favorite."
Carina snuck a peek at Serval. He'd stilled and his jaws had tightened while his strange dual toned eyes had turned cold.
With calm and calculated movements, he took off his coat and muttered a quick apology to her great-aunt. He held his coat on his arm, again scanning the shop floor, this time walking around. His footsteps sent the old shop creaking and moaning in anger like he was disturbing its old sacred grounds.
"I want a shirt." He said and Carina shared a tired look with her great-aunt. "A white shirt. I don't mind cotton but if you give me rayon, I will make sure this shop shuts down."
"I only have about three rolls of silk if that's what you want." Great-aunt Dottie huffed and pulled out a roll of blue coloured wood, throwing it on the floor next to a roll of green rayon that deceptively looked like silk or satin. "They're dead stock—just what I could get so don't go asking me for more for a particular one."
She turned to Galeria. "Plain blue wool for the coat and green rayon for the dress. The dress will be cheap…for you, it'll be an easy wear around Twelve without drawing too much attention."
Galeria nodded. "I want the neck covered and the dress has to be full sleeved and as for the coat," She turned to Carina. "Maybe have her do a little something on the lapel or the corners of the collar."
"Carina's still learning."
"She seemed good to me."
"Miss Walston."
"I want her to do a little stitch on my coat." She said slowly like Dottie was a stupid and hard of hearing.
Carina stood up and put away her scrapped fabric. She really didn't want to speak up and if it was up to her, she'd do what Edith did: run up the stairs and hide in great-aunt Dottie's apartment upstairs.
Instead, she put herself forward against her better judgment for her great-aunt who she barely knew. "If that's what you want then I can do it." She said with a cautionary tone before adding. "But I should warn you, you might just be disappointed in my work."
"I don't care. I want you to make pretty flowers on my coat, you know, like the ones that Seraphine Reza has."
She bit down on her lower lips and with wide eyes, she looked at her great-aunt. Galleria Walston couldn't be serious? Carina was not nearly as skilled as the stylists and designers from the Capitol, anything she'd do would be a pale imitation of their work.
A snicker escaped Serval who turned away but his mouth was bursting with laughter that he held back by covering his mouth with his leather gloved hand.
Great-aunt Dottie was the only one who really understood Carina, she didn't laugh. She eyed the pair from the Capitol with great caution and shook her head. "You're better off waiting or going back to the Capitol to get designs like those. Carin and I are neither that skilled to do anything like that."
Again, Galeria Walston was not listening. "I don't care. I want Carina." She repeated. "I did say I wanted us to be friends."
"That's…" Carina bit her tongue just as great-aunt Dottie turned to her. "You know what, I don't think I'm someone that's worthy to be friends with someone…so…" Strange as her. She really didn't know how to say it. "Well, it's one thing to be friends, it's another to…ask me to do something so…ridiculous. I'm just not that good."
"I. Don't. Care." Galeria spat out and tilted her head eerily.
The placid ever present smile on her mask unnerved her. Carina swallowed while nodding. Galeria mimicked her, bobbing her head like a doll. Serval looked away, almost pitying the young girl as he stepped forward towards Carina, expecting her to take his measurements but Carina never did.
It was her great-aunt who took the measuring tape that Carina had put down and roughly moved the young assistant of Director Walston like one of her mannequins on the shop floor. Serval grumbled under his breath while watching Carina make a note of the measurements and take payment of the orders from Galeria who chirped on silly plans for the two.
Tuck. Tuck.
Immediately, Carina dropped her things and stopped paying attention to Galeria or keeping an eye on Serval. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the window she was sitting in front of. Gale peered in through the window while wiping away the dust gathered on the glass. He pressed his face against the glass and looked around, searching the dimly lit shop for a sign of her.
She tilted her head to the side to catch his eyes and smiled brightly, ignoring Galeria's curious yet unnerving gaze on her. The minute Gale's eyes found her, he burst out into muffled giggles that left a wide and bright grin on his face. She felt so much lighter and warmer once she'd seen his face and the tension in the shop dissipated just by his presence.
'He was such an idiot.'
She dropped her work and turned to her great-aunt. Without even uttering a single word, her great-aunt let out an exasperated sigh. "Just go on ahead, you're done for the day anyways." She was so tired that she didn't even have the energy to be annoyed at Gale. "Oh and before you go, tell Gale not to stand around in front of the window like an idiot. He might have a pretty face but he's tall enough to scare away my customers."
"I'll tell him that." Carina said with a giggle and great-aunt Dottie couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Gale?" Serval quietly asked but he was ignored by the two as Carina grabbed a canvas bag from her great-aunt, stuffing a few spools of thread and scrap pieces of fabric and brushed past him.
Gale was standing right outside the door when Carina crossed the threshold and all but skipped outside.
"Easy there." He said, steadying her before she fell. But like always, he caught her with his hands around her waist, he picked her up and let her down in front of him as the shop's door closed behind her. "How was your first day at work?"
"Awful." Carina mouthed.
Gale laughed, taking out a single strawberry from the bag he held in his hand and popping it into Carina's mouth. She almost choked on the strawberry and elbowed his stomach in response but he dodged her attempts, looping his arm around hers.
"No, really, how was it?" He asked again.
Carina looked over her shoulder, checking cautiously for a sign of either Galeria or Serval before saying. "Started off great but it just crashed and burned from there when those…Capitol people walked in."
The smile from Gale's face slid off. "Those Capitol people?" He questioned tensely. "Those masked freaks."
"Gale."
"I'm just saying…"
"One of them was there." She admitted. "She was with…the assistant of her father. A spoiled brat if I'd ever seen one."
"Must be nice." Gale tried to laugh but it was obvious he was worried. "Being spoiled, rich and…a freak that wears a doll-mask everywhere—you know those creepy old dolls we'd see being sold at the Hob when we were younger."
Carina shook her head. "I guess…they are a little creepy."
"A little?" Gale questioned. "I heard Prim had nightmares after catching a glimpse of one of them."
"You just made them up."
He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You can ask Katniss if I'm lying or not."
"Where is Katniss, anyways?" The young girl was nowhere to be found. Usually, Gale and Katniss were joint at their hip but now she couldn't see her anywhere.
"She went home early. Prim's got a fever so she's gone to take care of her." Carina frowned. "She said, she'll be over by your place with Prim later—if that's okay with you?"
"You know I'd never turn either of you away and neither would grandpa."
Gale smiled in thanks and his hands wrapped around hers, his fingers threading through hers, transferring his warmth into her strangely cold hands.