【饥饿游戏】04（打印版）

Gale, who is eighteen and has been either helping or

single-handedly feeding a family of five for seven years,

will have his name in forty-two times.You can see why

someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing

a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being

drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the

Seam. Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules

were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not

Madge’s family, it’s hard not to resent those who don’t

have to sign up for tesserae.

Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other

days, deep in the woods, I’ve listened to him rant about how

the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district.

A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of

the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and

thereby ensure we will never trust one another. “It’s to the

Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he

might say if there were no ears to hear but mine. If it wasn’t

reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not

made what I’m sure she thought was a harmless comment.

As we walk, I glance over at Gale’s face, still smoldering underneath

his stony expression. His rages seem pointless to me,

although I never say so. It’s not that I don’t agree with him. I

do. But what good is yelling about the Capitol in the middle of

the woods? It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make things

fair. It doesn’t fill our stomachs. In fact, it scares off the nearby

game. I let him yell though. Better he does it in the woods than

in the district.

Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of

loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin,

and a bit of money for each.

“See you in the square,” I say.

“Wear something pretty,” he says flatly.

At home, I find my mother and sister are ready to go. My

mother wears a fine dress from her apothecary days. Prim is

in my first reaping outfit, a skirt and ruffled blouse. It’s a bit

big on her, but my mother has made it stay with pins. Even so,

she’s having trouble keeping the blouse tucked in at the back.

A tub of warm water waits for me. I scrub off the dirt and

sweat from the woods and even wash my hair. To my surprise,

my mother has laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me.

A soft blue thing with matching shoes.

“Are you sure?” I ask. I’m trying to get past rejecting offers

of help from her. For a while, I was so angry, I wouldn’t allow

her to do anything for me. And this is something special. Her

clothes from her past are very precious to her.

“Of course. Let’s put your hair up, too,” she says. I let her

towel-dry it and braid it up on my head. I can hardly recognize

myself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall.

“You look beautiful,” says Prim in a hushed voice.

“And nothing like myself,” I say. I hug her, because I know

these next few hours will be terrible for her. Her first reaping.

She’s about as safe as you can get, since she’s only entered

once. I wouldn’t let her take out any tesserae. But she’s worried

about me. That the unthinkable might happen.

I protect Prim in every way I can, but I’m powerless against

the reaping. The anguish I always feel when she’s in pain wells

up in my chest and threatens to register on my face. I notice

her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and

force myself to stay calm. “Tuck your tail in, little duck,” I say,

smoothing the blouse back in place.

Prim giggles and gives me a small “Quack.”

“Quack yourself,” I say with a light laugh. The kind only

Prim can draw out of me. “Come on, let’s eat,” I say and plant a

quick kiss on the top of her head.

The fish and greens are already cooking in a stew, but that

will be for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery

bread for this evening’s meal, to make it special we say.

Instead we drink milk from Prim’s goat, Lady, and eat the

rough bread made from the tessera grain, although no one has

much appetite anyway.

At one o’clock, we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory

unless you are on death’s door. This evening, officials

will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not,

you’ll be imprisoned.

It’s too bad, really, that they hold the reaping in the square

— one of the few places in District 12 that can be pleasant.

The square’s surrounded by shops, and on public market days,

especially if there’s good weather, it has a holiday feel to it.

But today, despite the bright banners hanging on the buildings,

there’s an air of grimness. The camera crews, perched

like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the effect.

People file in silently and sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity

for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as

well. Twelve- through eighteen-year-olds are herded into

roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front, the

young ones, like Prim, toward the back. Family members line

up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another’s

hands. But there are others, too, who have no one they love at

stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking

bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn. Odds are

given on their ages, whether they’re Seam or merchant, if they

will break down and weep. Most refuse dealing with the racketeers

but carefully, carefully. These same people tend to be

informers, and who hasn’t broken the law? I could be shot on

a daily basis for hunting, but the appetites of those in charge

protect me. Not everyone can claim the same.

Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between

dying of hunger and a bullet in the head, the bullet would be

much quicker.

【饥饿游戏】04（在线收听）