Голодные игры

           Someoneelseenterstheroom,andwhenIlookup,I’msurprisedtoseeit’sthebaker,PeetaMellark’sfather.Ican’tbelievehe’scometovisitme.Afterall,I’llbetryingtokillhissonsoon.Butwedoknoweachotherabit,andheknowsPrimevenbetter.WhenshesellshergoatcheesesattheHob,sheputstwoofthemasideforhimandhegivesheragenerousamountofbreadinreturn.Wealwayswaittotradewithhimwhenhiswitchofawifeisn’taroundbecausehe’ssomuchnicer.Ifeelcertainhewouldneverhavehithissonthewayshedidovertheburnedbread.Butwhyhashecometoseeme?

           Thebakersitsawkwardlyontheedgeofoneoftheplushchairs.He’sabig,broad-shoulderedmanwithburnscarsfromyearsattheovens.Hemusthavejustsaidgoodbyetohisson.

           Hepullsawhitepaperpackagefromhisjacketpocketandholdsitouttome.Iopenitandfindcookies.Thesearealuxurywecanneverafford.

           "Thankyou,"Isay.Thebaker’snotaverytalkativemaninthebestoftimes,andtodayhehasnowordsatall."Ihadsomeofyourbreadthismorning.MyfriendGalegaveyouasquirrelforit."Henods,asifrememberingthesquirrel."Notyourbesttrade,"Isay.Heshrugsasifitcouldn’tpossiblymatter.

           ThenIcan’tthinkofanythingelse,sowesitinsilenceuntilaPeacemakersummonshim.Herisesandcoughstoclearhisthroat."I’llkeepaneyeonthelittlegirl.Makesureshe’seating."

           Ifeelsomeofthepressureinmychestlightenathiswords.Peopledealwithme,buttheyaregenuinelyfondofPrim.