Jeopardy: The Fourth Quarter Quell

Wandering - Daniel

Daniel

Shouts ring out over the soft, rolling hills as the sun begins to paint orange streaks across the sky. I lie back to listen. My work is done for the day, the sheep rounded up into the barns for the winter, and now all I have to do is watch the stars come out and try not to think about tomorrow.

The shouting is so far away that I can't make out any words. I know what they'll be saying, though. As usual, a sheep will have escaped or something. I swear they do it on purpose. The image of a cluster of fluffy, innocent sheep plotting to make a break for it is enough to bring a small laugh to my mouth, whatever the circumstances.

All over the district, parents are sitting down to eat with their children, each one conscious that this could be their last night at home, the last time they ever eat together. I know for a fact that a lot of older siblings have been busy trying to sneak extra apples from the Market, ready to be coated in melted butter and a tiny pinch of sugar; Reaping Apples. It's the closest any of us get to a treat while there's still work to be done. The story goes that they're supposed to bring luck, or they did anyway, but now everybody has them so they're not lucky anymore. They are tasty, though, and thinking of the pans bubbling and the smell of melted butter makes my stomach grumble and my mouth wet with saliva. Definitely the only good thing about reaping day.

My mind's eye paints my squat but cozy stone house, shutters swatched in black and closed, no light seeping through the cracks where they don't quite fit the windows, and a shiver runs down my back despite the balmy night. Me or Rena?

But I'm trying not to think about that. Instead I force myself to pay attention to the stars, the patterns starting to draw themselves into the sky. With a finger I trace the familiar shapes; the Bull, the Charioteer, the Ploughman. Crumpled up inside my satchel, I have maps of them, the stars outlined by pencil sketches of what they represent. In my head I draw my pictures onto the sky stretching above me, so that the Hunter glares out after his dogs, shaggy beasts with sharp eyes, and the horse tosses a rich chestnut mane at the Maiden falling from his back with her hair tumbling around her feet and one hand clinging desperately to her saddle. Her Mother and Father look on in despair, as the Hero rushes to rescue her with an earnest face and vivid red robes fluttering around his knees. The Eagle dives towards the west, his time in the limelight done, and the Swan follows, stretching his neck for his last view of the sparkling studded sky. A scarf of wispy stars flutters between them.

The last few streaks of orange are gone; the air carries a chill reminder of the oncoming winter. We have nothing to be worried about this year. There were plenty of births, no mysterious illnesses decimating the flocks. There have been no signs of a harsh winter so far.

I pull my cloak a little further around my shoulders. I can stay for another half hour at least. All the attention will be on Rena, and Pa will be trying to avoid crying. It's no use telling him the odds are slim, that I'm only in there eight times and Rena eleven. He'll say the same thing he said last year, at my first Reaping. "The odds are always against someone, Dan."

Rena was pretending she wasn't worried about me, but she gave me an extra slice of her apples. The hot butter dripped down my chin and I’d caught it on my finger and licked it off, not wanting to waste a bit.

I should go home.

My leg buzzes as I clamber to my feet. I've been still for too long. The shouting has faded. Somewhere, a cow moos softly to itself. Small clusters of lights glimmer on the grassy hills, ringed by stone and fence field-boundaries. A spot is moving, a torch beam sweeping over the fields, looking for any last-minute stragglers. Up in the sky, a dot drifts too, tracking an even arc over the stories of the sky. The lights of my township shine about a mile away, and I can even pick out my house, perched on the outskirts, and if I focus really hard, I can see one of the lanterns that Rena puts up to guide me home even though I don’t need them.