Gale: A Hunger Games Story

"Greasy Sae" Hamier

The world seems to flicker.
I am inside the forest, next to Katniss, as Clove cuts her initials onto my best friend's forehead. I try to run forward, but my feet are stuck. I can feel the audience's presence, angered that I am not intervening. But I'm frozen. The faces of those I care for float by me, very disappointed. My mother, Rory, Vick, Posy, Madge, Aric, Prim. They shake their heads.

"Do something Gale!"
"You'll just let this happen?"
"Katniss needs you!"
"That's my sister! Save her!"
"If she dies, it's your fault..."

Their voices swirl around, haunting me, chilling me, but I can't move. I can't speak. I can only watch as Clove raises her blade to perform the deathblow.

"Noooooooo!" I try to scream, but no words come out.

And I'm being shaken awake.

My mother looks down at me, concerned.
I sit up.

"I'm fine, okay?"

I'm in my bed, tangled in sheets. Rory is beside me, still asleep. Morning sunlight is streaming through the little window.

"What happened?" I ask, "did she make it back?"

My mother nods. "She's at the cave, safe."

Safe. In the Games, you're never safe until everyone else is dead...

But today, today Katniss has survived. I feel as though a 200 pound deer has been lifted from my shoulders.

What to do? Maybe I'm tired, or maybe I've seen too much killing lately, but for the first time in my life I don't feel like hunting. I can't face going to school again, but I don't want to sit around all day watching television. So I head to the Hob.

It's looking as dirty and old as usual, and I greet it like an old friend. I haven't been to the warehouse in weeks, and I'm starting to miss the people there. I see Dotter the vegetable vendor, Gia the candlemaker and Rooba the butcher. They all smile and wave at me. Gia scoops little Doe Hartier out of the way as a cart full of apples barrels through the aisle. I keep walking though, because it's someone else I want to see.

When I arrive, Greasy Sae is sitting on her wooden crate, absentmindedly stirring her pot of soup. The first time I discovered the Hob, I thought she was a witch with a bubbling cauldron, but we're good friends now and often trade.

As soon she sees me, her wrinkled eyes light up.

"Well, if it isn't Gale Hawthorne!" she says, thumping her cane as she stands up. "Here me was thinking they'd caught ya outta bounds and flogged ya in the square!"

I smile. Greasy Sae must be going on eighty, and sometimes she forgets that this isn't the Dark Days, no Seamer is going to be whipped anytime soon.

"Hiya, Greasy Sae! I've been watching Katniss in the Games, but when I smelt your stew, I couldn't help but follow the smell right to your stall!" I joke.

"Well, ain't you in luck, Gale-o! Today's ya favourite, goat stomach and pig snout, an' some of these little roots this girl gave me. Don't know what they are, but she looked right desperate for a trade, I'll tell you that much!" Greasy Sae laughs. "Well, bless me soul, if it wasn't the very Primrose Everdeen that gave 'em to me! I tell you, she got more problems than any twelve year old needs!"

I nod, and accept the hot bowl of soup gratefully.

"On the house today, Gale! Special time offer for only you!"

I would respond, but I'm busy gobbling up the "beef" soup. Sae's granddaughter, Doe, comes wandering up to us, and I pull her away from the hot kettle. As I do so, I notice a battered old hat filled with coins.

"What's that, Greasy Sae?" I point at the cap.

" 'At's a collection I'm takin' up, for sponsoring Katniss. All us Hob folks chip in. Pretty nice, ain't it?"

It's really nice, these people who can't afford their own expenses helping Katniss like this. But although I won't tell Greasy Sae, a fistful of coins isn't going to buy more than a crust of bread for them. Prices have gone up so much as the Games progress. But hey, if Haymitch is just a few dollars short from delivering a life-saving gift to Katniss and Peeta, every coin counts.

"Eh, Gale, remember what tomorrow is, my boy. Better fancy up a bit more before they come," Sae indicates my scruffy hair and ripped shirt.

"What? Why? Who's coming where?" I don't know what she's talking about.

"The interviews, Gale-o! At the final 8 tributes, ol' Caesar will be coming 'round to talk to their folks. District 12 is last on the list, as always, so that's why they'll be late."

She's right. I can't believe I forgot. But in all my life, there's never been a District 12 victor in the top 8, so who can blame me? But me being interviewed? Ridiculous. I'm not in Katniss's family, and although we are best friends, having a good-looking teenage guy who claims to see her every day at the interview would distract viewers from the whole Katniss and Peeta love story. I tell this to Greasy Sae, and she shakes her head.

"No, Gale, you know Katniss best of all. Your opinion is important too. Just say you're her cousin or somethin'."

"Okay, I'll do that."

Greasy Sae may be a scruffy old lady, but she has some great ideas every so often.

As I leave the Hob, I start singing. It's the valley song, which Peeta said that Katniss sang on her first day of school, and made him fall madly in love with her. Katniss does have a nice voice, though she rarely sings in front of me. It's true what they say, the birds really do silence at her song. Me? As I croak out the melody, I swear the birds sing louder to drown me out.