Chapter Text
Dallin looks like he is about to laugh but then grimaces. The sound comes out like a feeble choke.
I wet some paper towels and wipe distractedly at the countertops. Dallin goes over to the sink and begins to help me, but I notice he leaves the faucet running. My first instinct is to tell him to shut it off, he is wasting water, but maybe it is like the wind chimes on the roof, something to confuse the recording devices.
We crouch in silence and clean the tiles and the toilet seat. A redheaded Avox arrives and seems confused that we have already finished mopping up. She begins sanitizing the whole area. Dallin seems a bit ashamed. “I’m sorry…” he says. “I’m…” but he can’t say it.
The moment is awkward. I am desperate to ask if he can’t say it aloud, if it’s against the rules somehow.
The Avox touches us both on the shoulder, and it occurs to me that she might know all of our secrets, and doesn’t need to be told. She shoos us back to the training area.
Back in the gym, some tributes have moved to different stations. Jetta is tying knots. She needs to learn how to set traps to hopefully get food. Haymitch mentioned this to me earlier. “I’m gonna…” I tip my head in Jetta’s direction.
“Oh!” he says, his face lighting up. “Knots. Fun!” He heads over and sits on a mat by the instructor and just begins tying his own knots, not listening to the talk. He’s a bit of a strange boy. He easily becomes engrossed in his own work and has intense focus.
Jetta shoots me a confused look. I shrug and sit next to Dallin. He shows me how to do something called a “bowline”. My fingers are not as quick as his. Then he teaches me a clove hitch and a stopper knot, and explains how they are used on boats.
I’m not sure why he is helping me or even how most of these will be useful in the arena. It’s several knots in when I realize he is dizzy and he needs an excuse to sit down. The cool mats and familiar tasks seem to bolster his mood. So I let him teach me more knots.
I am trying to think of the right thing to say to this boy who I know is sick and I think is dying. Most of the things I would like to say or questions I’d like to ask are not for Capitol ears. I’d like to know what is wrong with him, is he okay now, why did he volunteer, and why does his partner hate me so much. None of that seems appropriate.
I am opening my mouth to ask him something about the color of the ocean when he says, out of nowhere, “Do you believe in God?”
That stumps me. I know there were different religions, like the god of the Underworld I read about in that history book. I also know that the Capitol believes in science and doesn’t allow any formal form of worship in the districts. But I suppose they can’t stop you from believing in a god (or the God?) in your heart. It certainly would be nice to think there is something more powerful than the Capitol and that those who have wronged us will be punished in the afterlife. I just can’t rely on that.
Dallin must see surprise and doubt in my face because he nods his head. “I’m not sure I do either. My grandmother has faith though…” then he catches himself, looks around to be sure no Capitol people are listening. They could send someone to District 4, to interrogate his grandmother. Kill her even.
He touches his wrist, where he wears a bracelet made out of a cord of rope knotted together. He shows it to me. At the place where the bracelet fastens there is a smooth rock (or is it a piece of glass?) with writing on it. I can’t make it out. “Your token?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “What does it say?”
“It’s the beginning of some famous quote she likes to tell me,” he explains. “The guy was killed by the Romans.”
“The people the Capitol names their kids after?” I ask.
He quotes: “I am God's wheat, and I am to be ground by the teeth of wild beasts in the Arena, so that I may become the pure bread of God.”
It sounds poetic as he says it, but I don’t understand and I feel like I should since I am a baker and make bread.
Dallin shrugs and rolls his sleeve back down to cover the bracelet. “Basically a horrible death is how he reached God.”
“…and he became bread?” I ask, trying to picture it. We don’t’ grind the flour ourselves at our bakery back in 12. It comes from the Capitol in big bags that are a pain to transport from the train to the bakery.
“Oh there’s a lot of bread involved. Because bread represents life, and all that,” he tries to explain.
Perhaps I should know more about this God if there is a lot of bread involved. I didn’t even know it was a symbol of life. “So he gets life by giving his life...?”
“By accepting his Fate, he earns a place in Heaven,” Dallin continues.
And that’s the part where I get stuck. “But what if there is nothing after? What if this is it?”
He shrugs again. “At least there is one boy safe in Four because of me.” He grows sad and hugs his arms to his chest. “That’s something at least.”
“Of course,” I say. If it hadn’t been me who was picked then it might have been my brother or someone young like Jetta. I don’t know who it would have been if my name hadn’t been drawn, but Dallin does. The volunteering happens after the Reaping. “I’m sure it means the world to him and his family.”
We are quiet for awhile while I think about bread and life, and we both make knots. Lots of knots. Eventually, Jetta finishes her lesson with the instructor and comes over to us, cautiously, but not shaking in fear like she was around the District 1 tributes.
“Making friends?” she asks, and I think there is a hint of derision in her tone. She would never be friendly with the Career tributes. My instinct is to defend Dallin, who I don’t think of as particularly vicious, but I still don’t know what I am allowed to say about his situation.
“Jetta, this is Dallin from District 4,” I say, trying to put cheer into my voice. “He is very good at knots.”
As if to prove my point, Dallin finishes a complicated-looking knot with lots of small twists. “Heaving line knot,” he says, looking up. He startles at bit at the sight of her. I wonder if he truly didn’t hear her approach or if he is upset he has to engage with her.
Perhaps standing over us makes her feel bigger and braver because she says, “and hunting tributes like me.”
He has the grace to look abashed, but he doesn’t cower under her gaze. “We are just getting this over with as quickly as possible. It’s bad for everyone if the Games goes on too long.”
She puts her hands on her hips, surprised any Career would defend their actions. “It’s bad for me to get to live longer?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “No,” he looks around to see who is watching. “Each day the Games on are TV is a day where the Districts are forced to watch and be afraid. Getting it over with, is best for the districts overall. And,” here he struggles for the right words, “sometimes a quick knife to the throat is mercy if the alternative is a long death from natural causes.” He says the phrase “natural causes” with a wry smile. “Trust me.”
Jetta must sense there is something there because she doesn’t immediately reply. I think about the Hunger Games where we watched the tributes slowly freeze to death, and how gloom hung over the entire district while it went on.
We are called to lunch, and Dallin stands. “If you see me, I’d hope you would kill me quickly too,” he says, quite serious, but I am not sure if he is talking to me or to Jetta.
Everyone exits the gymnasium. I stay seated on the mats, thinking. I watch as Dallin rejoins Marina, and the two whisper to each other. He points back to me. I think that Haymitch was right, and that she is looking for someone else to back her up when he goes. I’d hope you would kill me quickly.
Despite everything, I am still not sure I could do that--kill quickly. I would rather hide, maybe do camouflage and stay away from the other tributes. But Haymitch is right that I wouldn't be able to feed myself and Dallin is also right that a slow death from hunger is worse than a quick knife to the throat. How are any of us supposed to make these choices? I don't feel equipped and half the tributes are younger than I am.
I decide I need to talk to someone in the same situation as me, and finally rise and head to the cafeteria to find Thresh.