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Entry tags:
THG: Train
I bang on the door, "Mr. Abernathy!"
"Go away!"
"We need you to help us."
"Kid."
"I'm not leaving!"
The door slides open, "You're not kidding, are you?"
"No. I'm not. We--she needs your help."
He cocks his head to one side.
"She's amazing with a bow and arrow. She able to hide and lay in weight for prey. A true hunter. She stands a real chance. Unlike me. She's got skills."
He leans his head against the door frame, with a cock-eyed grin, "You got it bad for her, huh?"
"I don't..."
"But you got some skills."
"What do you mean?"
"You got me to see something in her. What else can you get me to see in her?" he moves away from the door and lets me into the room.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, right now, your esteemed fellow tribute is a cold-hearted bitch whose only redeeming quality is that she volunteered to save her sister's life. So, sit, sit. Tell me, what else is there?" He wave a hand that held a glass of some dark amber liquid, expertly not spilling anything, "Other than what you said about the hunting thing."
I chew on my lip, thinking carefully, "She's tough, persistant, a hard-worker. She always does things to the best she can, the fullest of her ability. She goes into things determined to succeed and she pretty much does. She's taken care of her family for years...her mother, her sister, since the mine blew up and her father died. They wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for her."
"Really?" Haymitch leans back, "You know all this? Twelve isn't that small."
"No, but my family runs a shop. People talk, especially in the Merchant district, and...my father would trade for her squirrels some times."
"Uh-huh." He says, scratching his chin, "Alright. You've got a deal. There might actually be something I can work with here, for once. I'll stay sober enough to give you guys pointers, and you will help with..." he waves his hand around again, "...the crowd. Maybe you can get her to warm up to this the way you've enlightened me to her...saving graces."
"I don't know."
He raises an eyebrow at me, "Hey, I'm agreeing to be so--to cut back. You will take a bullet on this one too. We've only got a short amount of time and if you're so determined to die out there lets at least get her on her way before you do. Deal?" he offers me his hand to shake.
I shake it, "Deal."
"Now," He walks me towards the door, "Get outta here. Be up early and we'll start talking things through. I still have some things...to work through myself."
I try not to look at the collection of bottles in his cabinet and on his dresser as I walk out. I'm offering to help Katniss survive...but she has to live afterwards. I just have to...not die in an embarrassing way and actually be useful before I do so. Is that really better?
"Go away!"
"We need you to help us."
"Kid."
"I'm not leaving!"
The door slides open, "You're not kidding, are you?"
"No. I'm not. We--she needs your help."
He cocks his head to one side.
"She's amazing with a bow and arrow. She able to hide and lay in weight for prey. A true hunter. She stands a real chance. Unlike me. She's got skills."
He leans his head against the door frame, with a cock-eyed grin, "You got it bad for her, huh?"
"I don't..."
"But you got some skills."
"What do you mean?"
"You got me to see something in her. What else can you get me to see in her?" he moves away from the door and lets me into the room.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, right now, your esteemed fellow tribute is a cold-hearted bitch whose only redeeming quality is that she volunteered to save her sister's life. So, sit, sit. Tell me, what else is there?" He wave a hand that held a glass of some dark amber liquid, expertly not spilling anything, "Other than what you said about the hunting thing."
I chew on my lip, thinking carefully, "She's tough, persistant, a hard-worker. She always does things to the best she can, the fullest of her ability. She goes into things determined to succeed and she pretty much does. She's taken care of her family for years...her mother, her sister, since the mine blew up and her father died. They wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for her."
"Really?" Haymitch leans back, "You know all this? Twelve isn't that small."
"No, but my family runs a shop. People talk, especially in the Merchant district, and...my father would trade for her squirrels some times."
"Uh-huh." He says, scratching his chin, "Alright. You've got a deal. There might actually be something I can work with here, for once. I'll stay sober enough to give you guys pointers, and you will help with..." he waves his hand around again, "...the crowd. Maybe you can get her to warm up to this the way you've enlightened me to her...saving graces."
"I don't know."
He raises an eyebrow at me, "Hey, I'm agreeing to be so--to cut back. You will take a bullet on this one too. We've only got a short amount of time and if you're so determined to die out there lets at least get her on her way before you do. Deal?" he offers me his hand to shake.
I shake it, "Deal."
"Now," He walks me towards the door, "Get outta here. Be up early and we'll start talking things through. I still have some things...to work through myself."
I try not to look at the collection of bottles in his cabinet and on his dresser as I walk out. I'm offering to help Katniss survive...but she has to live afterwards. I just have to...not die in an embarrassing way and actually be useful before I do so. Is that really better?