Chapter 4 Chapter 4 The Tribute Train

Peeta and I froze, watching our senior try to get up on his slippery vomit.A strong stench of alcohol nearly made me spit out my dinner.Peeta and I exchanged glances.Obviously, Haymitch isn't worth mentioning, but there's one thing Effie Trinket is right about, once we're in the arena, he's all we have.Peeta and I seemed to make a silent agreement, and he and I each took Haymitch by the arm and pulled him up. "Did I fall?" Haymitch asked. "It stinks." He wiped his nose with his hand and wiped the filth all over his face. "Let's go back to your box," Peeta said, "and get you cleaned up."

We half dragged and half dragged him back to the box.We couldn't just put him on the embroidered sheets, so we dragged him straight into the tub, turned on the shower, and he was still groggy. "Okay," Peeta said to me, "now I'll take care of him." I'm really grateful for him saying that.Undressing Haymitch, washing his vomit out of his chest hair, and dragging him back to bed was the last thing I dreaded doing.Maybe Peeta was trying to impress him, once the game started it worked in his favor.But looking at Haymitch's current situation, he might not remember these things tomorrow.

"Okay," I said, "I'll get a Capitol to help in a moment." The train's number book has everyone's numbers, and it's their responsibility to cook for us, serve us, guard us, and take care of us. . "No, I don't need them," Peeta said. I nodded and walked to my box.I understand how Peeta feels.I don't want to see the Capitol either, but having them serve Haymitch might be a petty vengeance on them.So I wondered to myself why he insisted on taking care of Haymitch; and then it dawned on me that it was out of kindness, like being kind to me and giving me bread.

The thought made my heart tighten.A kind Peeta is more dangerous to me than a heartless Peeta.Because good people can always go deep into my heart and take root there.I can't let Peeta go inside me, at least not in the arena.So I decided that, from now on, I would have as little contact with the baker's son as possible. When I got back to the compartment, the train was stopping for refueling at a platform, and I quickly opened the window, threw out the cookie that Papa Peeta had given me, and slammed the window shut.Never again, nothing of their father and son. Unfortunately, the box of cookies was thrown on the ground and hit a cluster of dandelions by the railway track.I only had one look, but it was enough, it reminded me of that dandelion in the school playground years ago...

As soon as I looked away from Peeta Mylark's bruised face, I saw the dandelion, and I knew hope wasn't lost.I took it off carefully, ran home quickly, picked up a bucket, took Prim's hand, and ran to the "pasture".Yes, it's full of golden dandelions.After picking these we walked the fence about another mile until the barrels were full of dandelion flowers, stems and leaves.We munched on dandelion salad and leftover bread that night. "Is there anything else?" Prim asked. "Can we find anything else to eat?" "There's been plenty to eat," I assured her, "for as long as I can remember."

My mother has a book that I brought from the pharmacy earlier. The pages are made of old parchment, and there are pen drawings of various plants in it. The name of each plant, where you can pick it, and when it blooms are written in beautiful fonts. , has any medicinal value.Dad added a lot of items in the book, which plants are only edible and cannot cure diseases.Dandelion, pokeweed, wild onion, pine.Prim and I spent the rest of the night chewing on the book. The next day, on the way home from school, I lingered for a long time by the "ranch", and finally mustered up the courage to slip under the fence.It was the first time I stood alone in this place, without the protection of Dad's bow and arrows.I found the bow and arrows my father had made for me out of a hollowed-out tree trunk.I probably did not walk more than twenty yards into the "pasture" that day.For a long time, I sat on the branch of an old oak tree, quietly waiting for the game to pass by.A few hours later, I got lucky and hit a rabbit.My father taught me before, and I also hit a few rabbits.But this rabbit was shot entirely by himself.

For the first time in months we had meat.The sight of the rabbit seemed to stir up something deep inside her, and she pulled herself together, skinned the rabbit, stewed the meat with the wild vegetables Prim had dug up, and then languished again and went back to bed.But after the stew was ready, we coaxed her to eat a big bowl. The woods became our saviour, and every day I walked a little more into them.It was tough at first, but I was determined to support my family no matter what.I steal eggs from bird nests, catch fish with nets, sometimes shoot squirrels and rabbits, whatever, and I dig all kinds of weeds that are everywhere.Be careful when digging wild vegetables, some are edible, while others can kill you with just one bite.When digging wild vegetables, we checked carefully and repeatedly according to Dad's pictures, and the wild vegetables we ate were all safe.

At the slightest sign of danger—a howl in the distance, the crackling of branches—I would run back to the fence.Slowly, I ventured up the trees to escape the dingoes that were constantly on the lookout for prey.Bears and leopards hide deep in the woods, maybe they don't like the smoky smell of our area. On May 8th, I went to the courthouse to sign for food stamps and hauled home my first batch of food and oil in Prim's toy car.On the 8th of every month, I go to get it once.Of course, the hunting didn't stop.There was not enough food to eat, and other things had to be bought, such as soap, milk, and needles and thread.Except for what I had to eat, I took everything else to the market to exchange.At first, I was scared without my father, but everyone respected my father and accepted me.Prey is prey, no matter who catches it.I also took the prey to the back door of rich people to sell. I tried my best to recall the methods my father taught me, and I also learned a few new tricks myself.The butcher only buys rabbits, not squirrels.The bakery owner loved squirrels, and when his wife wasn't around, he traded for one after another.The chief of police loves wild turkeys, and the mayor has a soft spot for strawberries.

One year at the end of summer, I was bathing in the pond, and inadvertently saw the plants growing around me, with tall stems, arrow-like leaves, and white flowers with three petals.I knelt in the water, dug out its roots with my fingertips in the soft mud.The little pale blue stalk doesn't look like a potato, but it tastes exactly the same. "Katniss!" (Katniss is the name of an aquatic plant in Indian language. - Translator's Note) I shouted.My name is based on this plant.I seem to hear my father's witty voice saying in my ear: "As long as you can find yourself, you won't starve to death." All the stems on the water surface were picked up.That night, we ate fish and katenis root until we were full.It was the first time in a month that we had enough to eat.

Gradually, my mother's spirit recovered and returned to us.She started cleaning the house, cooking, and storing the food I brought back for the winter.People often trade things with us and pay us for medicines.One day, I finally heard her singing. Mom was well, and Prim couldn't be happier.But I just watched with cold eyes, waiting for her to leave us again.I don't trust her.I harbored a hatred for her deep in my heart, hated her fragility, her indifference, and her abandonment of us for a month. Prim forgave her, but I drifted away from her, built a wall in my heart, restrained myself from relying on her psychologically, and the relationship between me and my mother was completely different from before.

Now I am going to die, and this situation will not change one bit.I yelled at her in court today, but I also told her I love her.Perhaps, this will even out. I stared blankly at the window, hoping to open it again, but I didn't know what would happen if I opened the window at such a fast speed.In the distance, I vaguely saw the lights of another jurisdiction, is it the Seventh District?or District Ten?I have no idea.I think of the millions of people who are getting ready for bed right now.I thought of my own home again, with the shutters closed.What are they doing, Mom and Prim?Are they eating fish stew and strawberries?Or maybe the food was left on the plate, not moving at all?Are they watching that old battery-running TV leaning against the wall, watching the tapes of the Today show?They will surely still cry.Can mom hold on this time, hold on for Prim?Or could she have given up and left the burden of the real world to Prim, who would carry it on her frail shoulders? Prim will be sleeping with her mother again tonight.It gave me so much relief to think that there was that dirty, skinny cat with Prim, and if she cried, it would snuggle up and crawl under her arms and curl up in her arms. , until she calmed down and fell asleep.I'm so glad I didn't drown it in the first place. Thinking of my family, I feel lonely at this time.The day is too long.Are Gail and I the blackberries we ate together this morning?It seems to be a matter of a previous life.It seemed to me that I had a long dream, a dream that became more and more terrifying.Maybe, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I would go back to District 12, where I lived. I must have all kinds of pajamas in the closet, but I just took off my top and pants and went to bed in my underwear.The bed sheets are soft silk fabrics, and the fluffy duvet warms up the body quickly. If you want to cry, now is the time.Tomorrow morning, I can wash away the tears from crying at night.But I didn't cry, I was too tired, maybe too numb, I couldn't cry.The only strong desire is that I am elsewhere at this time.Then let the shaking train take me to sleep, where I can forget everything! The next morning, the sky was gloomy, and dim light came in through the curtains.I was awakened by a soft knock on the door, followed by Effie Trinket's voice calling me up to eat. "Get up, get up, get up! We're going to be very, very busy today!" For a moment, I imagined what was going on in this woman's mind?What is she thinking about during the day?What dream did you have at night?I can't figure it out. I put on the green suit, it wasn't dirty, it was just thrown on the floor overnight, it was a little wrinkled.I run my fingers over Mockingjay's gold ring.I thought about the jungle, about my dad, about waking up from sleep and going on with my mom and Prim. I went to bed without combing my hair last night. The hairstyle my mother combed carefully for me at the Harvest Festival ceremony didn’t look messy this morning, so I didn’t comb my hair again.Fortunately, there is no major obstacle, we are not far from the Capitol.As soon as I arrive in that city, I'll have a stylist doing my image for tonight's opening ceremony.I just wish my stylist didn't make nudity a thing of beauty. When I got to the dining car, Effie Trinke passed me with a mug of black coffee, cursing under her breath.Haymitch on the side, his face was red and swollen, obviously indulged himself the day before, he was giggling.Peeta holds an egg roll in his hand, looking embarrassed. "Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch said, waving at me. As soon as I sat down in my chair, someone brought a large plate of food, eggs, ham, piles of French fries, and a compote full of fruit served in ice cubes to keep it chilled.The pile of egg rolls in front of me is enough to feed our family for a week.An elegant glass held orange juice; or, at least I thought it was orange juice.I've only ever tasted an orange my dad brought back as a special present for New Years.Plus a cup of coffee.Mom loves coffee, but we can never afford it.But coffee, to me, is just bitter, watery water.And a cup of something rich brown that I've never seen before. "They call it hot chocolate," Peeta said, "and it's good." I took a sip, and the hot, sweet, creamy liquid slid down my throat, and my body shuddered.I drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the deliciousness on the table.Then I started munching other foods, and I ate a lot, trying not to overeat.Once my mother said that I always feel like I will never see food again when I eat. I replied: "If I can bring food home, I won't be like this." Talk no more. When my stomach feels like it is about to burst, I lean back in the chair and eat the small food that goes with the meal.Peeta is still eating, tearing open the egg roll and dipping it in hot chocolate.Haymitch didn't pay much attention to his food, but he kept pouring clear liquid from a bottle, mixing it with red juice, and gulping it down.The strong taste convinced me that it must be a kind of alcohol.Haymitch and I didn't know each other before, but I'd seen him a lot at the black market, and he'd always leave piles of change on the liquor woman's counter.If this goes on, he'll be pretty drunk by the time we get to the Capitol.I found myself hating Haymitch.No wonder the players in District 12 never got a good chance, not just because they didn't eat enough and didn't train enough—there were plenty of strong players in District 12 who had a chance to win; but because they didn't get sponsorship, and Haymitch is the main reason.Rich people tend to support certain players, or they bet on them, or they just want to brag that they picked the right winner.Of course they'd like to deal with someone with better manners than Haymitch. "You should give us some advice," I said to Haymitch. "I suggest you, come back alive." Haymitch said, laughing.Peeta and I exchanged a look, determined never to speak to him again.I was very surprised to see the coldness in his eyes, but he is usually gentle. "It's ridiculous," Peeta said.Suddenly he waved his hand violently, and dropped the cup in Haymitch's hand to the ground, and the blood-red liquid flowed out along the door of the box. "Don't do that to us." Haymitch froze, then punched Peeta on the jaw, knocking him off his chair.He turned to get his drink, and I slammed the knife between the bottle and his hand, almost on his finger.Then I quickly moved away to avoid his fist, but he didn't move, sat on the chair, and looked at us sideways. "Huh, what's this for?" Haymitch said. "I got two fighters for this year, huh?" Peeta gets up from the floor, digs a large spoonful of rice from under the fruit bowl, and holds it up to the red mark on his face. "No," said Haymitch, stopping him. "Show it, the audience thinks you've fought another Tribute before you entered the arena." "It's against the rules," Peeta said. "The bruise is only a sign that you fought if you were seen, and it would be better if you weren't seen." He turned to look at me again and said, "Aside from stabbing the table with a knife, you have What can you use it for?" Bows and arrows are my usual weapons, but I have also practiced throwing knives for a long time.Sometimes I've shot the game, and it's better to kill it with the knife before I get close to it.I think now is the time to get Haymitch's attention.I yanked the knife off the table, grabbed the blade, and slammed it against the opposite wall.I just wanted to stick the knife firmly to the wall, but the knife just got stuck in the gap between the two boards, which made me even more skillful. "Stand over there, you two," Haymitch said, stumbling into the middle of the dining car, peering around us, poking us like animals, and looking at faces. "Well, it's not bad, it's not completely hopeless. It looks quite strong. Let the designer give you a tinkerer, and it will look like it." Neither Peeta nor I doubted that.The Hunger Games isn't a beauty pageant, but then again, good-looking contestants always seem to get more sponsorship. "Well, let's make a deal, I'll drink, you don't mind, but I won't drink too much, so I can help you," Haymitch said, "but you will do exactly as I tell you." Although this is not a good exchange, it is a big step forward from when there was no one to guide ten minutes ago. "Okay," Peeta said. "Then help us," I said, "when we get to the Horn of Zeus (the horns of Zeus in Greek mythology, the horns full of flowers and fruits symbolize abundance. Usually used in paintings or sculptures.——Translator's Note ), what is the best tactic?" "Take one at a time. In a few minutes, we will pull in, and you will be handed over to the designer. You will not like their design, but no matter what, don't resist." "But—" I said. "No 'buts', just don't fight back," Haymitch said, taking the bottle from the table and leaving the dining car.When the door closed behind him, the inside of the dining car was pitch black, and although there was still a glimmer of light, it seemed to be night outside.I think the train must have gone into the tunnel to the Capitol.These mountains are the natural barriers for the Capitol to defend the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to attack the Capitol from the east, and the only way is the tunnel.This terrain advantage is the main reason why each district has lost battles, and it is also the main reason why I am now a "tribute".Because the rebels had to cross the mountains, they were easy targets for Capitol air power. Peeta and I stood there in silence as the train sped through the long tunnel.My heart tightens when I think of the thick rocks in the tunnel that separate me from the sky, I hate being trapped by rocks, he reminds me of my dad, of mines, he's buried forever in Gone In the darkness of day. The train finally slowed down gradually, and suddenly a dazzling light penetrated into the carriage.Peeta and I couldn't hold back the excitement in our hearts, and ran to the window to see the Capitol City, the center of Panem's rule, which we had only seen on TV before.Indeed, the camera didn't lie, it showed the city in all its majesty; if anything it didn't capture, it was the golden skyscrapers in an iridescent aftertaste, set against a vast expanse of Glamorous cars running on asphalt roads, people with strange clothes, strange hairstyles, painted faces, and no worries about food and clothing.All the colors are so unreal, the pink is too deep, the green is too bright, the yellow is too bright—like the flat round candies we see in the little candy shops in District 12 but can never afford. When we learned that a "tribute" train was coming into the city, everyone eagerly pointed at us.I hurried away from the window, they were so excited it made me sick, I knew they couldn't wait to watch us kill each other.But Peeta just stood there, smiling and waving at the crowd instead.He only stops when the train finally pulls in and we are out of sight of the audience. Seeing me staring at him, he shrugged and said, "Who knows? Maybe there's a rich guy in the crowd." I misread him.I've been thinking about his behavior since the Harvest ceremony: the friendly handshake he gave me, his dad visiting me with the cookie, the one promised to Prim... Peeta made his dad do it ?He cried at the station and volunteered to bathe Haymitch, but when it became apparent that this "good guy strategy" wasn't working, he challenged Haymitch again.Now he's waving from the window again, hoping to win over the crowd. Of course, this sequence of events is not enough to explain the problem, but I feel that his plan of action is taking shape.He is not sitting still and is fighting for a chance at survival.Which means this good Peeta Malack, the one who gave me the bread, is doing everything in his power to kill me.