The Bender Games

Chapter Nine

The Bender Games

Day Two: Evaluations

         Benjamin approached me before everyone was ushered into their separate hallways. He managed to tell me pretty much what he said last night: don’t reveal your bending. I wasn’t going to, but I guess he wanted to remind me, in case I forgot.

         The only problem is that I really want to. I want to show these gamemakers what I can do. I want them to know that I won’t go down without a fight. Even though I really don’t want it to come down to a fight, I know that I will have to eventually. If I ever want to see my Dad or Cam ever again, I will do whatever it takes. But I know I can’t do this alone.

Before or after the interviews tonight, I really want to ask Benjamin if he could be my ally. He’s been acting like he has ever since day one, and who knows, we could be a good team. Also, he knows the ins and outs of the games. I know he told me some of the basics, but I still have much to learn, and he could help me in the games.

But I can’t think about that right now, I just need to think about the evaluations. I sit in a crammed little room with Jo, Dean, and Axel. The room is painted in a metallic, dull gray; it is very claustrophobic in here. A single light bulb hangs overhead, but a wire must be loose because every now and then, it flickers.

I feel like I am back in Providence Five after a mishap in the power plant. I am half-expecting to hear a phone ring, telling me I need to head down and heal someone. I wish that was happening right now. Anything would be better than sitting in a drafty room, waiting for something bad to happen.

I turn my head to look at the other contestants in the room. It’s surprising how we are all put together, but we never interact. Jo sits in the corner by herself on the floor. Her blonde hair falls around her shoulders and blocks her face, so I can’t see her. Her hands wring and twitch furiously in front of her. Dean sits on the bench closest to the door, his head is thrown back. The muscles in his jaw twitch, and his fingers scratch and pick at a scab on his arm. Axel sits on the opposite side of the bench that I do. I’d rather sit next to him than Dean, if only his leg didn’t hobble. It reminds me of the day of the drafting, when I healed his hands. He’s barely spoken to me since then.

We never even looked at each other yesterday, except when I saw him training in the firebending section. I don’t know why, but I guess I was hoping that when we both got drafted, that we might talk to each other again, like we used to. As kids, I always loved it when Axel and his dad would come over, but then we got older. He got a job, and so did I. His father got sick and rarely visited anymore. Axel dropped out of school. Then as time went on, we just drifted apart.

And here was my one chance to ask him: “how’ve you been?” and I can barely look at him because I’m afraid that it will put a target on my back. Benjamin was right, the games will change you. I’m not even in the games yet, and I’m already changing the way I look at things.

I put my head in my hands and run my fingers through my scalp. I hate this so much. Knots fill my stomach as I think of what to do for the evaluations. I know I shouldn’t bend. Maybe I could try out some of the weapons, even though I have no idea how to use any of them. Or maybe I could build a snare of shelter like I did yesterday. I know I have to do something, but I just don’t know what.

I shuffle in my seat, wondering how long we all have been sitting in this little prison cell. It seems like hours, but that might just be the jitters talking. I bite down on my lip and wonder how much longer I will have to wait for my evaluation.

Why do we even have evaluations anyway? I know they are to help the gamemakers rate our abilities, but why do they have to do that? Why must they score us? Is it to show the viewers who they think will most likely last the longest? And the higher the number, the more they like you, and the more they will keep you around? I wince at the last thought. Just the fact that a game maker can dispose of a contestant whenever they want to is very chilling. If the game is just plain boring, then they can press a single button, and the whole world gets to watch a contestant struggle from the trap that was just created. I hope I’m not one of those unfortunate contestants who are killed by that happening.