Chapter 23
Two worlds

"The borders have been open for about two years now, " Annabel said. "A freedom none of us had during Snow's reign. Some leave. Most don't. And some won't even though they can. It's a common enough attitude in the Capitol. That we'd all be a lot happier if everyone stayed where they are."

Haymitch's silver flask dug into his hip, calling for attention but he ignored it. He needed a clear head if he was going to get some answers.

"Just tell me like it is," he'd said.

And she did.

"The wounds from the Hunger Games and the war are still bleeding. Naturally, people are angry and scared. The revolution further cemented the belief that we can't trust each other and Capitolians and district-born alike think the other got off too easily.

But then there's this whole other aspect that came with the peace. Because despite the anger and mistrust that smolders in the shadows, people are falling in love across borders.

The first Capitolian to ever marry someone from a district was Lysistrata Vickers' grandson.

He was on vacation with his parents in District 4 where he met a girl from District 5 who worked in an a ice cream stall at the resort. They were little more than children but they fell in love. When his parents found out they took him straight home and forbade him to ever speak to her again.

They wrote to each other in secret. He tried to confront his parents, tell him how he felt but they would hear none of it. He was a Vickers. He shouldn't run after someone so below him when there were plenty of well-suited Capitol girls to choose from. Finally he just ran off. Took the train to District 5 where she waited for him. They met with her mother and father and he asked for their daughter's hand. They said they would rather see her dead than married to a Capitol man.

In the end they eloped. They weren't welcome in District 5 so she followed him to the Capitol but they weren't really welcome here either. Instead they became targeted from both sides for 'mixing with the enemy.'

His grandmother was the only one who called it for what it is: rubbish! She took them in despite the neighbors' outcries and they lived here for a while. Run a china shop downtown but people were furious with him for bringing a 'district whore' into their midst. Furious with her for having the audacity to think she could ever become one of them.

When she got pregnant they decided to move to District 9 and open a glassblower's business. Start fresh and try and make it easier on everyone. The baby most of all."

"They were assaulted?"

"Not physically. There was a lot of violence right after the war. Not so much anymore. Not with Paylor in charge. But if people can't shout, they whisper. They find other ways to get to you. Discrimination. Anonymous phone calls, lies and slander and backstabbing. People who are determined to put you out of business, to drive away all the 'rebel trash and district lovers' from the Capitol."

Haymitch's teeth were clenched so tightly he would have a headache before the day was over.

"That's what they're trying to do to Effie?"

Annabel nodded.

"Not everyone. Not even half of them but still plenty to go around. Friends who freezes her out, stores that refuse to serve her, the school board who didn't renew her contract, Mrs. Quinlan evicting her. They all claim they disapprove of her not being married but that is a flat-out lie. It's the whole 'half-breed' aspect that rubs them the wrong way and they just want her to go somewhere, anywhere where they don't have to see her."

"Where's Paylor in all this? Asleep?" It was a miracle he didn't shout.

"She and her administration do what they can," said Annabel. "But it's a slow process to unify the country and open people's minds. And she's not a dictator with absolute power. She doesn't sit on every chair of influence around Panem."

xXx

They were interrupted by the door bell. Haymitch made a slight wave of his hand like "go ahead" and Annabel rose. She stopped in the doorway.

"Things will get better, Mr. Abernathy. We'll make it so. That's what Effie believes."

Yeah, course she does, Haymitch thought. She was always the optimistic one.

He should have seen this coming. It all made sense now. Mrs. Quinlan for instance. She might as well have a sign.

"Half-breeds", what a bullshit term. Like they were two different spieces. He was an idiot for being surprised. For expecting more just because those same people ate the star-crossed lovers act right up and seemed genuinely upset about Katniss's pregnancy before the Quell.

Not the same, he thought, and not anymore. Things changed after we got Katniss out of the clock area and the revolution was a fact. Maybe we were like precious, beloved pets to some of them. Play things that they could use and treat however they fancied. Until we turned around and bit them. Those fools won't forget that in a heartbeat. Or forgive.

He wasn't oblivious, of course. He saw the looks, heard the mutters whenever he spent time with Effie in the Capitol. People who didn't approve and never would.

It reminded him of when he was little, playing with Maysilee and Leonore. All those narrowed eyes and pressed lips from towners and Seam workers alike. Because he was supposed to keep to his own kind.

Even back then, before the Games, before the rebellion, before Effie he didn't play by the rules. Didn't see anything wrong with it.

Annabel returned with a wooden crate, carried it into the kitchen but Haymitch hardly noticed. He gazed miserably through the window.

Effie knew, all along. The consequences of her actions. She must have and she didn't tell him. Why? Because he'd nip their relationship in the bud?

Had he known, would he keep from getting involved with Effie? No, probably not. But he would have treaded more carefully. Not do things like make out with her with the door opened for starters. Or make all those trips back and forth in the first place. Have a vasectomy or maybe just cut the bloody thing off!

Haymitch sighed and got out his silver hipflask.

What did it matter now? The babies were coming and thinking "what ifs" wouldn't help the situation.

Outside the sun was on it's way down and in the fading light he saw that other woman, coming home. The blonde woman from yesterday. June. She carried a grocery bag on each arm, full to bursting.

He appeared in the hallway just in time to see one of them burst open against the carpet. Cursing under her breath June squatted down to retrieve the turnips and onions and red-skinned potatoes.

She didn't see Haymitch there. Not until he slipped a bundle of carrots into what was left of the bag. She shot him a black look. Small wonder. If a man barged into his house and were all up in Effie's face the way he was with June's wife, Haymitch would be just as pissed.

Not that Effie was his anything.

They gathered in silence.

"Appreciate what you've done for Eff," he muttered. "Glad she had someone."

June picked up the last green pepper and dropped it into the bag, mulling over his words. When she finally spoke there was no venom in her voice.

"She saved Annabel's life once."

"You're welcome to eat dinner with us," Annabel said when they joined her in the kitchen. The empty crate stood on the table and she was just putting away jars of apple sause and honey and bottles of lemonade. "We're having roast chicken and winter vegetables."

Afterward, Haymitch couldn't quite say how it happened but before he knew it, he found himself by the cutting board, making mountains of chopped root vegetables for the rest of the evening.

He welcomed the distraction with open arms. Sooner or later he knew he had to talk to Effie but for now he just immersed himself in the task at hand.

Soon the knots in his shoulders began to relax a little. June and Annabel prepared the whole chicken and he listened to their small talk. All quiet, everyday topics that had absolutely nothing to do with his and Effie's predicament. They didn't expect him to join in the conversation which suited him just fine.

When the rich smell from the oven filled the room and the trash can spilled over with peels Haymitch eased the bag up.

There were garbage bins in front of most houses in this Capitol suburb. He saw them earlier. Right by the road. Green and yellow and blue and red ones, for all kinds of trash. Leave it to the Capitol to take better care of their garbage than they did people. Even their own neigbours.

The air was filled with birdsong. The mockingjays in June's and Annabel's old apple tree bounced notes to their brothers and sisters in the small pond below. Silly little melodies, all new to his ears. Probably some drunken song they picked up downtown.

Funny he never wondered before. What the hell were mockingjays doing in the Capitol? In all his years of mentoring he never saw a single one of them past District 1. Yet here they were, thriving. Come to think of it, he'd seen them for some time now. Ever since his first visit to Effie after the war ended.

Had someone asked him 10 years ago why there were no Mockingjays in the Captiol when they lived everywhere else he'd shrug and say they probably didn't like big cities.

But that wasn't it. Mockingjays were very compatible and sure, the Capitol was a big city but it was a green one too. Plenty of lush gardens and great food sources and then he didn't even include the outskirts of the city where the River Theseus ran its course.

How did Snow keep them out? Poison? Force fields? Firing squad?

A classmate once told him the peacekeepers used mockingjays for gun practice. Not blackbirds or pigeons or mockingbirds who were all far easier to capture. Mockingjays in particular.

Clearly, Snow didn't like the jabberjay-mockingbird cocktail even before Katniss Everdeen came along and caused him so much trouble. No surprise there, really given his obsession with control.

And as soon as he was gone and the dust settled, the mockingjays re-inhabited the city, slowly but surley. No longer a funny songbird to be replicated on belt buckles or embroidered into silk lapels. The symbol of the rebellion.

That's how people viewed his and Effie's children? Like some unnatural mutation caused by people's recklessness? Genes gone bad?

The men and women here had no problem rubbing their genitals against some poor Games victor but Haymitch remembered well: Snow always made sure the Capitol population – the elit of Panem – didn't end up pro-creating with the district scum.

Haymitch reckoned the only reason the winners of the Hunger Games weren't sterilized as soon as they turned victorious was because it meant no victor's children in the reaping bowl. Sophie somehow slipped under the radar only because peacekeepers like Cray lost their Capitol citizenship as soon as they took the uniform.

He lifted the lid off the garbage bin, about to dump the bag inside and pulled up short.

Just a few feet away from him, their eyes big as saucers, stood four girls. Haymitch stared right back, completely thrown by the déjà vu.

The pastel dresses, the adorned hairdos, the glitter of knick-knacks. It was like looking at four Effie Trinkets. The old Effie from the Games, only smaller. 12-13 tops.

"Hello," said the girl in the middle. The sole member of the quartet who had natural colored eyes. Brown. "We didn't mean to scare you."

"What do you want?"

In answer, she pointed to the house.

"That's missus. A.B. and missus. June's house," she said. "Effie Trinket lives there now, doesn't she Mr. Haymitch?"

Haymitch's eyes narrowed at the question. The garbage bag landed at the bottom of the bin with a clank.

"Go home," he said. "You've no business with Effie, not any of you. So go home to your ma and pa and don't come back."

He closed the lid with finality and headed for the door.

The girls glanced at each other.

xXx

When Effie didn't answer his knock Haymitch pushed inside. The room was an organized mess. Filled with stuff you needed for a baby. Or babies, in this case.

His eyes traveled across the room. Most of it he had no clue what purpose they served. Like the bottle with a funnel-shaped horn on one side and attached to a skinny hose on the other. What was that? A beer bong?

Course, he recognized a crib when he saw one. Or rather, two cribs. His eyes were drawn to them, like a moth to a flame. Tiny teddy bears on the corners. Some kind of toy attached on top, like a wind chime. He brushed his fingertip against a wooden cloud and they all swayed in a circle.

Effie lay on her side, on top of the covers. One of her hands rested protectively over her big stomach. The bed dipped as he sat next to her. He ought to put the two playsuits in a drawer somewhere. His hands reeked from onions, despite the scrubbing. Still, the baby clothes remained on his lap. He wasn't ready to part from them just yet.

Effie's chest rose and fell and he felt a twinge of jealousy, watching her peaceful rest. It looked like she needed it, though. She must have been all spent if she fell asleep fully-dressed.

It was her own bed. Her own nightstand and table lamp. The rest of her furniture must be in storage somewhere.

She's homeless.

And here he was with a village full of houses. Effie could take one of them if she didn't want to stay with him. But if she was going to live in a guestroom it damn sure should be his. He was the father, after all and he didn't trust the Capitol one bit, with or without Paylor. Effie and the kids would be safer in Twelve, wouldn't they?

Just like with the cribs, his eyes were drawn to the porcelain goose on Effie's nightstand. His last gift to her, the night of the December Fair. He'd forgotten all about it til now.

Clearly, Effie hadn't.

He felt around in his pocket and yep, there it was, bunking with his hipflask. Being bumped around half across the country had turned the paper goose into little more than a ball of paper, all bent and misshapen.

It wasn't all broken though. You could still see what it really was. He flexed out the winds a little and set it next to Effie's on the nightstand. They looked just as odd together as their owners did in real life.

The one who sold it to him. The girl with a Distict 5 accent. It must have been her. Lysistrata Vickers's granddaughter-in-law, who got shunned just for loving a man from the Capitol.

Were they happy now? Over in District 9? With their new life and their new baby? Far away from both their families. Did people accept them or were they just met with the same anger and hostility at every turn? From the district this time.

What am I gonna do, mama?

And he heard his mother's answer, straight and firm, just like when she lived.

You marry her.

Yeah. Didn't he tell Effie the same thing once? In the tree after they crashed the hot air balloon. If he got someone pregnant he would do right by her. Not hang her out to dry. That's how he was raised.

Course, he never imagined himself to ever end up a father, not past the age of 16 at least.

Would it even make a difference? Would his children's life be easier if he was married to their mother? Maybe in Twelve. Here, the opposite was just as likely. More even. A ring on his finger, so what? It didn't make him any less district.

If he proposed marriage, would Effie say yes? The terrible answer was: yeah, probably. For the same reason she once said yes to Kane.

No. He wouldn't condemn Effie to a life with him just because he couldn't keep it in his pants. She deserved better.

But things would change around here, that's for sure. Whatever the future held, no one would lay so much as a finger on Effie or his kids ever again. Not as long as Haymitch drew breath.