the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第13部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


Just　like　I　was　watching　the　Games。
I　kick　off　my　shoes　and　climb　under　the　covers　in　my　clothes。　The　shivering　hasnˇt　stopped。　Perhaps　the　girl　doesnˇt　even　remember　me。　But　I　know　she　does。　You　donˇt　forget　the　face　of　the　person　who　was　your　last　hope。　I　pull　the　covers　up　over　my　head　as　if　this　will　protect　me　from　the　redheaded　girl　who　canˇt　speak。　But　I　can　feel　her　eyes　staring　at　me；　piercing　through　walls　and　doors　and　bedding。
I　wonder　if　sheˇll　enjoy　watching　me　die。

7
My　slumbers　are　filled　with　disturbing　dreams。　The　face　of　the　redheaded　girl　intertwines　with　gory　images　from　earlier　Hunger　Games；　with　my　mother　withdrawn　and　unreachable；　with　Prim　emaciated　and　terrified。　I　bolt　up　screaming　for　my　father　to　run　as　the　mine　explodes　into　a　million　deadly　bits　of　light。
Dawn　is　breaking　through　the　windows。　The　Capitol　has　a　misty；　haunted　air。　My　head　aches　and　I　must　have　bitten　into　the　side　of　my　cheek　in　the　night。　My　tongue　probes　the　ragged　flesh　and　I　taste　blood。
Slowly；　I　drag　myself　out　of　bed　and　into　the　shower。　I　arbitrarily　punch　buttons　on　the　control　board　and　end　up　hopping　from　foot　to　foot　as　alternating　jets　of　icy　cold　and　steaming　hot　water　assault　me。　Then　Iˇm　deluged　in　lemony　foam　that　I　have　to　scrape　off　with　a　heavy　bristled　brush。　Oh；　well。　At　least　my　blood　is　flowing。
When　Iˇm　dried　and　moisturized　with　lotion；　I　find　an　outfit　has　been　left　for　me　at　the　front　of　the　closet。　Tight　black　pants；　a　long…sleeved　burgundy　tunic；　and　leather　shoes。　I　put　my　hair　in　the　single　braid　down　my　back。　This　is　the　first　time　the　morning　of　the　reaping　that　I　resemble　myself。　No　fancy　hair　and　clothes；　no　flaming　capes。　Just　me。　Looking　like　I　could　be　headed　for　the　woods。　It　calms　me。
Haymitch　didnˇt　give　us　an　exact　time　to　meet　for　break…last　and　no　one　has　contacted　me　this　morning；　but　Iˇm　hungry　so　I　head　down　to　the　dining　room；　hoping　there　will　be　food。　Iˇm　not　disappointed。　While　the　table　is　empty；　a　long　board　off　to　the　side　has　been　laid　with　at　least　twenty　dishes。　A　young　man；　an　Avox；　stands　at　attention　by　the　spread。　When　I　ask　if　I　can　serve　myself；　he　nods　assent。　I　load　a　plate　with　eggs；　sausages；　batter　cakes　covered　in　thick　orange　preserves；　slices　of　pale　purple　melon。　As　I　gorge　myself；　I　watch　the　sun　rise　over　the　Capitol。　I　have　a　second　plate　of　hot　grain　smothered　in　beef　stew。　Finally；　I　fill　a　plate　with　rolls　and　sit　at　the　table；　breaking　oil　bits　and　dipping　them　into　hot　chocolate；　the　way　Peeta　did　on　the　train。
My　mind　wanders　to　my　mother　and　Prim。　They　must　be　up。　My　mother　getting　their　breakfast　of　mush。　Prim　milking　her　goat　before　school。　Just　two　mornings　ago；　I　was　home。　Can　that　be　right？　Yes；　just　two。　And　now　how　empty　the　house　feels；　even　from　a　distance。　What　did　they　say　last　night　about　my　fiery　debut　at　the　Games？　Did　it　give　them　hope；　or　simply　add　to　their　terror　when　they　saw　the　reality　of　twenty…　four　tributes　circled　together；　knowing　only　one　could　live？　Haymitch　and　Peeta　e　in；　bid　me　good　morning；　fill　their　plates。　It　makes　me　irritated　that　Peeta　is　wearing　exactly　the　same　outfit　I　am。　I　need　to　say　something　to　Cinna。　This　twins　act　is　going　to　blow　up　in　out　faces　once　the　Games　begin。　Surely；　they　must　know　this。　Then　I　remember　Haymitch　telling　me　to　do　exactly　what　the　stylists　tell　me　to　do。　If　it　was　anyone　but　Cinna；　I　might　be　tempted　to　ignore　him。　But　after　last　nightˇs　triumph；　I　donˇt　have　a　lot　of　room　to　criticize　his　choices。
Iˇm　nervous　about　the　training。　There　will　be　three　days　in　which　all　the　tributes　practice　together。　On　the　last　afternoon；　weˇll　each　get　a　chance　to　perform　in　private　before　the　Gamemakers。　The　thought　of　meeting　the　other　tributes　face…to…face　makes　me　queasy。　I　turn　the　roll　I　have　just　taken　from　the　basket　over　and　over　in　my　hands；　but　my　appetite　is　gone。
When　Haymitch　has　finished　several　platters　of　stew；　he　pushes　back　his　plate　with　a　sigh。　He　takes　a　flask　from　his　pocket　and　takes　a　long　pull　on　it　and　leans　his　elbows　on　the　table。　¨So；　letˇs　get　down　to　business。　Training。　First　off；　if　you　like；　Iˇll　coach　you　separately。　Decide　now。〃
¨Why　would　you　coach　us　separately？〃　I　ask。
¨Say　if　you　had　a　secret　skill　you　might　not　want　the　other　to　know　about；〃　says　Haymitch。
I　exchange　a　look　with　Peeta。　¨I　donˇt　have　any　secret　skills；〃　he　says。　¨And　I　already　know　what　yours　is；　right？　I　mean；　Iˇve　eaten　enough　of　your　squirrels。〃
I　never　thought　about　Peeta　eating　the　squirrels　I　shot。　Somehow　I　always　pictured　the　baker　quietly　going　off　and　frying　them　up　for　himself。　Not　out　of　greed。　But　because　town　families　usually　eat　expensive　butcher　meat。　Beef　and　chicken　and　horse。
¨You　can　coach　us　together；〃　I　tell　Haymitch。　Peeta　nods。
¨All　right；　so　give　me　some　idea　of　what　you　can　do；〃　says　Haymitch。
¨I　canˇt　do　anything；〃　says　Peeta。　¨Unless　you　count　baking　bread。〃
¨Sorry；　I　donˇt。　Katniss。　I　already　know　youˇre　handy　with　a　knife；〃　says　Haymitch。
¨Not　really。　But　I　can　hunt；〃　I　say。　¨With　a　bow　and　arrow。〃
¨And　youˇre　good？〃　asks　Haymitch。
I　have　to　think　about　it。　Iˇve　been　putting　food　on　the　table　for　four　years。　Thatˇs　no　small　task。　Iˇm　not　as　good　as　my　father　was；　but　heˇd　had　more　practice。　Iˇve　better　aim　than　Gale；　but　Iˇve　had　more　practice。　Heˇs　a　genius　with　traps　and　snares。　¨Iˇm　all　right；〃　I　say。
¨Sheˇs　excellent；〃　says　Peeta。　¨My　father　buys　her　squirrels。　He　always　ments　on　how　the　arrows　never　pierce　the　body。　She　hits　every　one　in　the　eye。　Itˇs　the　same　with　the　rabbits　she　sells　the　butcher。　She　can　even　bring　down　deer。〃
This　assessment　of　my　skills　from　Peeta　takes　me　totally　by　surprise。　First；　that　he　ever　noticed。　Second；　that　heˇs　talking　me　up。　¨What　are　you　doing？〃　I　ask　him　suspiciously。
¨What　are　you　doing？　If　heˇs　going　to　help　you；　he　has　to　know　what　youˇre　capable　of。　Donˇt　underrate　yourself；〃　says　Peeta。
I　donˇt　know　why；　but　this　rubs　me　the　wrong　way。　¨What　about　you？　Iˇve　seen　you　in　the　market。　You　can　lift　hundredpound　bags　of　flour；〃　I　snap　at　him。　¨Tell　him　that。　Thatˇs　not　nothing。〃
¨Yes；　and　Iˇm　sure　the　arena　will　be　full　of　bags　of　flour　for　me　to　chuck　at　people。　Itˇs　not　like　being　able　to　use　a　weapon。　You　know　it　isnˇt；〃　he　shoots　back。
¨He　can　wrestle；〃　I　tell　Haymitch。　¨He　came　in　second　in　our　school　petition　last　year；　only　after　his　brother。〃
¨What　use　is　that？　How　many　times　have　you　seen　someone　wrestle　someone　to　death？〃　says　Peeta　in　disgust。
¨Thereˇs　always　hand…to…hand　bat。　All　you　need　is　to　e　up　with　a　knife；　and　youˇll　at　least　stand　a　chance。　If　I　get　jumped；　Iˇm　dead！〃　I　can　hear　my　voice　rising　in　anger。
¨But　you　wonˇt！　Youˇll　be　living　up　in　some　tree　eating　raw　squirrels　and　picking　off　people　with　arrows。　You　know　what　my　mother　said　to　me　when　she　came　to　say　good…bye；　as　if　to　cheer　me　up；　she　says　maybe　District　Twelve　will　finally　have　a　winner。　Then　I　realized；　she　didnˇt　mean　me；　she　meant　you！〃　bursts　out　Peeta。
¨Oh；　she　meant　you；〃　I　say　with　a　wave　of　dismissal。
¨She　said；　ˉSheˇs　a　survivor；　that　one。ˇ　She　is；〃　says　Peeta。
That　pulls　me　up　short。　Did　his　mother　really　say　that　about　me？　Did　she　rate　me　over　her　son？　I　see　the　pain　in　Peetaˇs　eyes　and　know　he　isnˇt　lying。
Suddenly　Iˇm　behind　the　bakery　and　I　can　feel　the　chill　of　the　rain　running　down　my　back；　the　hollowness　in　my　belly。　I　sound　eleven　years　old　when　I　speak。　¨But　only　because　someone　helped　me。〃
Peetaˇs　eyes　flicker　down　to　the　roll　in　my　hands；　and　I　know　he　remembers　that　day；　too。　But　he　just　shrugs。　¨People　will　help　you　in　the　arena。　Theyˇll　be　tripping　over　each　other　to　sponsor　you。〃
¨No　more　than　you；〃　I　say。
Peeta　rolls　his　eyes　at　Haymitch。　¨She　has　no　idea。　The　effect　she　can　have。〃　He　runs　his　fingernail　along　the　wood　grain　in　the　table；　refusing　to　look　at　me。
What　on　earth　does　he　mean？　People　help　me？　When　we　were　dying　of　starvation；　no　one　helped　me！　No　one　except　Peeta。　Once　I　had　something　to　barter　with；　things　changed。　Iˇm　a　tough　trader。　Or　am　I？　What　effect　do　I　have？　That　Iˇm　weak　and　needy？　Is　he　suggesting　that　I　got　good　deals　because　people　pitied　me？　I　try　to　think　if　this　is　true。　Perhaps　some　of　the　merchants　were　a　little　generous　in　their　trades；　but　I　always　attributed　that　to　their　long…standing　relationship　with　my　father。　Besides；　my　game　is　first…class。　No　one　pitied　me！
I　glower　at　the　roll　sure　he　meant　to　insult　me。
After　about　a　minute　of　this；　Haymitch　says；　¨Well；　then。　Well；　well；　well。　Katniss；　thereˇs　no　guarantee　theyˇll　be　bows　and　arrows　in　the　arena；　but　during　your　private　session　with　the　Gamemakers；　show　them　what　you　can　do。　Until　then；　stay　clear　of　archery。　Are　you　any　good　at　trapping？〃
¨I　know　a　few　basic　snares；〃　I　mutter。
¨That　may　be　significant　in　terms　of　food；〃　says　Haymitch。　¨And　Peeta；　sheˇs　right；　never　underestimate　strength　in　the　arena。　Very　often；　physical　power　tilts　the　advantage　to　a　player。　In　the　Training　Center；　they　will　have　weights；　but　donˇt　reveal　how　much　you　can　lift　in　front　of　the　other　tributes。　The　planˇs　the　same　for　both　of　you。　You　go　to　group　training。　Spend　the　time　trying　to　learn　something　you　donˇt　know。　Throw　a　spear。　Swing　a　mace。　Learn　to　tie　a　decent　knot。　Save　showing　what　youˇre　best　at　until　your　private　sessions。　Are　we　clear？〃　says　Haymitch。　Peeta　and　I　nod。
¨One　last　thing。　In　public；　I　want　you　by　each　otherˇs　side　every　minute；〃　says　Haymitch。　We　both　start　to　object；　but　Haymitch　slams　his　hand　on　the　table。　¨Every　minute！　Itˇs　not　open　for　discussion！　You　agreed　to　do　as　I　said！　You　will　be　together；　you　will　appear　amiable　to　each　other。　Now　get　out。　Meet　Effie　at　the　elevator　at　ten　for　training。〃
I　bite　my　lip　and　stalk　back　to　my　room；　making　sure　Peeta　can　hear　the　door　slam。　I　sit　on　the　bed；　hating　Haymitch；　hating　Peeta；　hating　myself　for　mentioning　that　day　long　ago　in　the　rain。
Itˇs　such　a　joke！　Peeta　and　I　going　along　pretending　to　be　friends！　Talking　up　each　otherˇs　strengths；　insisting　the　other　take　credit　for　their　abilities。　Because；　in　fact；　at　some　point；　weˇre　going　to　have　to　knock　it　off　and　accept　weˇre　bitter　adve