Голодные игры

           ButmakingthemdealwithHaymitchmightbeasmallformofrevenge.SoI’mponderingthereasonwhyheinsistsontakingcareofHaymitchandallofasuddenIthink,It’sbecausehe’sbeingkind.Justashewaskindtogivemethebread.

           Theideapullsmeupshort.AkindPeetaMellarkisfarmoredangeroustomethananunkindone.Kindpeoplehaveawayofworkingtheirwayinsidemeandrootingthere.AndIcan’tletPeetadothis.Notwherewe’regoing.SoIdecide,fromthismomenton,tohaveaslittleaspossibletodowiththebaker’sson.

           WhenIgetbacktomyroom,thetrainispausingataplatformtorefuel.Iquicklyopenthewindow,tossthecookiesPeeta’sfathergavemeoutofthetrain,andslamtheglassshut.Nomore.Nomoreofeitherofthem.

           Unfortunately,thepacketofcookieshitsthegroundandburstsopeninapatchofdandelionsbythetrack.Ionlyseetheimageforamoment,becausethetrainisoffagain,butit’senough.Enoughtoremindmeofthatotherdandelionintheschoolyardyearsago.

           IhadjustturnedawayfromPeetaMellark’sbruisedfacewhenIsawthedandelionandIknewhopewasn’tlost.Ipluckeditcarefullyandhurriedhome.IgrabbedabucketandPrim’shandandheadedtotheMeadowandyes,itwasdottedwiththegolden-headedweeds.Afterwe’dharvestedthose,wescroungedalonginsidethefenceforprobablyamileuntilwe’dfilledthebucketwiththedandeliongreens,stems,andflowers.Thatnight,wegorgedourselvesondandelionsaladandtherestofthebakerybread.