Post by countlivin on Apr 26, 2019 5:17:50 GMT
Chapter 20: Town Hall
Aura Cantarella
Today is a good day, Aura," said Crispin, a smile spread wide across his narrow face. "The sun is rising, and there's not a cloud in the sky to stop it!"
Aura had a different attitude toward today. She had been dreading it ever since she went to sleep last night. She didn't and would never understand how her uncle got such a perverse satisfaction from seeing death… As she was steered through town square towards the Justice Building, she knew the man was feeling that same feeling. Sometimes Aura wondered whether Crispin cared about anyone at all. Or maybe his idea of caring meant something different…
Through everything that was happening, she had to admit it really was a nice day. The sunlight felt warm on the edge of her arms. She could even hear a few birds chirping in the distance, flying south for the winter: a sound which she thought had altogether vanished from District Seven. She passed the run down restaurants and bars of the Lumberyard, as they called it. People were scuttling from one place to the next, eager to get their next task for the day. It was almost like they forgot they lived here…
"Today's the day I die," Aura spoke softly to herself. She walked through the town spreading her… well, her negative aura.
Crispin punched her hard in the shoulder, and she winced in pain. Some of the townsfolk around them glanced over in shock. "What did I tell you about talking like that, girl?" he asked in hushed anger. "You don't die today. You start living today."
"Uncle Crispin, have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself?" She shot back. "Because I'm starting to wonder."
"What? Aura, you wound me!" He laughed. "I care about you, and your brothers. I even care about your damn father, curse his name. I care about this whole district!" He began to yell, gesturing to the world around them. His act drew a lot of unwanted attention, but he didn't seem to care. "Yeah, you!" he smiled and laughed. "You're all my best friends!"
A mother of two children turned them both away from the man and fled inside. Aura knew if she had children she would do the same. She wouldn't even want to share the same street with Crispin. But it was fairly difficult expressing such an opinion when he was your uncle.
"Funny thing is, I did just about the same thing you did, Aura," Crispin told her. "I know it's not hard when your Games was the third, but I was the first volunteer in District Seven. It warms my heart to know that Rowan wasn't the last."
"You volunteered. Good for you," Aura barked, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and her uncle.
"Why are you being so cold?" he asked, with a look on his face that said he felt sorry but didn't mean it. "I told you, today's a great day!"
"And I told you—"
"No! Ah ah ah!" He pressed an oily finger to Aura's lips, effectively silencing. He leaned in close enough she could smell his grimy breath. "Today is… a good day… You wouldn't want to do something to screw that up."
The walk to the Justice building proved much longer than Aura remembered it, because she felt the weight of each step she took. Crispin was clearly more engaged than she was, as he was constantly five feet further and nagging her to speed up. "We haven't got all day!" He would tell her over and over… She passed Feeli, the butcher, on the way there. She passed him a gentle smile and he waved back. And then Vixen, the librarian… And Sammy, the boy from a few blocks down… Bent, Lonnia and Wenneka… District Seven was a small District, and this town was tightly wound, despite being the capitol city. She didn't think there was any one person in this town who didn't know her name. And by now… everyone else knew hers… This was most likely the last time she would ever see any of them.
"Now, when you get in there," Crispin said, taking her hard by the shoulder. "I want you to stay bloody quiet. I do the talking here. Understand?"
Aura raised an eyebrow. It was enough she was being sent to the Capitol against her will, but now Crispin was suggesting she be tossed around like a rag doll to add insult to injury. She'd dealt with Ludwig Orretter and the mayor before; she was confident she could handle herself. "And what makes you think you can speak on my behalf?"
Crispin chuckled, coming to a halt in the center of town square, a mere hundred feet from the Justice Building. "I know the guys you'll meet in there," he said. "Ludwig is a friendly fellow… And Mayor Quimby, we may not see eye to eye, but he respects me."
"So? What's this got to do with me?"
"It's got everything to do with you, girl," he snarled. "You wanna survive in the arena, you're going to have to have sponsors. Now the majority of those come from the District you call home. And if there's anyone you want on your side, it's the mayor. He'll broadcast about you all over the place… He's exactly the kind of man you want to kiss up to."
"I don't kiss up," Aura shot back, breaking away from his hold.
"Yes you do." He shook his head. "You do if you want to live. Look, you'd be surprised how much your mouth is going to froth every time that metal drone delivers you a can of beans from heaven. Something even as simple as a single throwing knife could save your life. You remember Paulie O'Neal from my Games?"
"No." Aura shook her head, ignoring him abruptly.
"I always remember my kills…"
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get him to stop hassling her about this. So she decided she might as well listen to what he had to say. "I don't watch the Games."
"Well, that's a mistake, dear. You gotta at least know the style of the arena. The new Head Gamemaker, Roman Walsh, has had some pretty interesting ones since he was appointed three years ago. You have to study him… know how he thinks. Gamemakers are built like animals. They've usually got the upper hand, but if you take the time to really watch them run around, you know exactly where they're going to scamper to next."
"I don't like watching the Games," Aura replied. "I stopped watching years ago. Everyone gets their hopes up… just to watch their kid get gored by some Career. It's depressing."
"Well, anyway…" Crispin continued. "Paulie O'Neal. She was the ninth girl I killed in the arena, a little elf from District Five. She thought she could get through the Games by hiding out under a log the whole time. She pleaded with me. There were enough tears on her face to fill a swimming pool… She was talking about how no one from her District liked her. She hadn't gotten any sponsors yet. She asked me to bloody wait… She asked me for a fighting chance."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, I slit her throat." He nodded, motioning the brutal act with his arm. "And the knife, you know where I got it?"
"A sponsor."
"You got it." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the pocket knife he'd shown her last night. "Just goes to show: you might be the best in the world at running and hiding, but if you don't have something to protect yourself when it all goes to hell, it won't mean a damn thing. And that, Aura, is why you need me to speak for you to the mayor and the escort. I don't know any better way of attracting sponsors."
Aura wasn't sure what to do. She always hated it when people robbed her of her voice, but Crispin had made more than a few good points. She didn't want to kiss up to anyone… She wanted to stand on her own two feet like she did at the Reaping. In a way, she'd already given up, but she knew she wouldn't be thinking that the moment she set foot in the arena. She reached to her neck and caressed the string that held the owl pendant to her neck, deep in thought.
75% of readers chose to [A. Accept Crispin's Aid.]
"Just get on with it…" Aura sighed, crossing her arms.
"Oh, I didn't need your permission," her uncle replied. "I only asked to be polite. This… talking to the mayor… is grown up stuff. You wouldn't understand."
The words infuriated her more than almost anything he'd said to her yet. It wasn't that he was just insane and disturbing, but he was condescending… She couldn't help but clench her jaw in anger. After everything she'd been through, raising Corvin and Barker where her father failed, she was just as much an adult as the rest of them, if not more so.
"I wouldn't understand?" she retorted. "Why don't you say that to my face?'
"Okay." He spun around and looked her straight in the eyes, grabbing her arm and squeezing it hard. "You wouldn't understand," he said again.
Aura forcefully broke free of Crispin's grip and stepped a few feet to the side. A couple of the townspeople around her had taken notice of the scene, but none of them moved to help. They only stared and watched… like it were on a monitor… "Get off me, you creep…"
"Now, now… Is that any way to talk to your father?"
"You're not my father."
"I'm a better one than Rowan."
"Yeah, I doubt it."
Crispin raised his palm in the air and brought it down hard onto Aura's cheek. It stung like hell, but she remained firmly rooted in the ground. If there was one thing that living in this District had taught her, it was to stand her ground. She regained her composure and an officer in white rushed over, baton in hand, to the scene. He took the weapon and held it up to Crispin's neck in a threatening manner. "Did he hurt you, ma'am?" The Peacekeeper asked Aura over his shoulder.
"No…" she gave back, grudgingly. "We were just having a disagreement."
The Peacekeeper reluctantly withdrew the baton from Crispin's neck slowly, but then pointed it at him. "I've got my eye on you… Try anything funny and—"
"Do you know who I am?" Crispin interrupted, intense in a such a way that the soldier squirmed in his boots.
"Can't say I do…" he replied. "It's not like it matters. You can't just hit—"
"Crispin Cantarella. Victor of the Third Annual Hunger Games. If you touch me again, I'll make sure the Capitol is on top of you faster than you can put on your pretty white suit." Crispin took a step forward, pushing the Peacekeeper back. "Have you ever felt pain, officer? I can tell you've been shot before by the way your shoulder keeps twitching, holding that baton… Did it hurt? I know ways to make you think that was just a bee sting by comparison."
He backed away, trembling with fear. "You're really—"
"Yes."
The Peacekeeper regained some solid footing and puffed up his armored chest. "You can't speak to me like that. I am an officer of justice, a soldier in President Snow's army. You will respect me, or I can have you arrested, right here and now. I don't care who you are."
Crispin shook his head. "I don't think you could if you tried. Through all my years, there has only been one man who has beaten me in a fight, and that's my father. He's dead." Aura was disgusted at his mentioning of her grandfather. The man had been the most caring person she'd ever known and it hurt her to watch her uncle brush off his name without a hint of remorse.
"And what did you say about respect? You want me to respect a man who missed a few spots on his lower jaw shaving this morning? You want me to respect a man who's holding his baton the wrong way around? You want me to respect someone who doesn't care enough about his title to display his name tag proudly on the front of his chest plate? Just be thankful I don't know your name. No, officer. Respect is for the weak-willed and the childish. This is the real world. You don't fight for respect here. You fight for survival."
In an instant, the Peacekeeper raised his baton high above and tried to bring it down onto Crispin's shoulder. Before it landed, Crispin blocked the blow on his forearm and put a palm in his armored sternum, launching him backwards. As the Peacekeeper flew off his feet, Crispin grabbed the handle of his baton and twisted it, easily loosening his grip. As the man laid on the ground, Crispin found a chink in the armor of his leg and bashed his kneecap in, shattering it.
In the midst of the man's screaming, Crispin smiled wide at his niece. "What a lovely day!" he exclaimed.
"You're insane…" said Aura, backing away.
"Oh, honey…" he laughed. "You don't know the half of it. Although, you're soon entering the arena. You'll learn soon enough."
"You just assaulted a Peacekeeper!" she accused him, pointing a shaky finger in his direction. She always knew the man was violent, but she'd never actually seen him in action. "You can be sentenced for this."
"No, weren't you watching? He assaulted me! Perfectly different…" Crispin held his elbow out, waiting for her to link arms. "Shall we?" She wasn't sure what choice she had but to take it.
Aura took a dozen heavier steps towards the massive monolith that was the Justice Building. Every time she passed one of the buildings at her side, it seemed to go by slower. She had to force her steps, and her pain didn't allow her any leeway to make fewer of them. However, eventually, the walk came to an end and the Justice Building laid at her feet. Colossal marble columns shot into the sky higher than anything else in Seven. Aura knew this was the last she would see of her home.
Crispin was the first to take a step onto the brilliant staircase leading to the front entrance, and Aura was dragged in tow. She figured there wasn't any stopping it now. She might as well not cause any commotion. Before the two of them reached the entrance, its iron doors flung open in front of them, to produce an obscenely fat man and a small, hairy one. They were Ludwig Orretter, the escort from the Capitol, and their very own, Mayor Huck Quimby.
Mayor Quimby was a short man with a distinguished air about him. He stood about as high as Corvin did, yet he gave off an air of wisdom. His gray mustache was bushy, and yet cleanly trimmed, and his graying-brown hair was coifed slightly to the right. Upon her encounters with this man, she'd seen him to be an honorable one; far more so than the two men next to him.
"I will not be made the enemy here!" shouted Mayor Quimby, raising a matter-of-fact finger in the air.
"Oh please, Mayor, give me one good reason why this isn't the answer and maybe we'd have a topic to discuss over brunch…" Ludwig turned his attention to Aura and a smiling Crispin on their doormat. "Ah, hello there, old friend! Put on a little weight, I see!"
"Yes, it's good to see you too, Ludd," Crispin laughed along with him. "You're one to talk." This remark would have made any sane person sneer, but oddly enough, they exchanged a chuckle.
"I say, you are the most charismatic tribute that has ever come out of Seven, lad." He placed his hands on his beer belly. "And I see you have brought—"
"My daughter, Aura," Crispin interrupted.
Ludwig raised a dark gray eyebrow. "Your daughter? I thought that Rowan was her father. You are her uncle, are you not?"
"I was her uncle. Rowan… stepped out. I'm her guardian now." He looked down at the girl on his arm. "I feel like I'm giving her up to her husband on her wedding day… She's grown up so fast."
There were a million words she wanted to say to shut him up, but all of them were crude, so she bit her tongue. Crispin is in charge, she told herself, he's in charge… he's in charge… It was so difficult to tell herself that.
Ludwig was doubtful, but passed it off as nothing and continued. "Well, she's our female volunteer this year, isn't she? You made quite the show at the Reaping last week, honey. How do you feel about your spot in the Games?"
Even though the question was directly aimed at her, Crispin answered before she could. "She's very excited about it. On the way over here, she couldn't stop raving about how she was going to win. Right?"
Aura nodded stiffly.
"And yet, she doesn't share this same view now?" Mayor Quimby added, stepping into the conversation. "Good lord, Crispin, look at the girl. She's scared to death. If that were true, she would be the one telling me so, not you."
"All the way… here…" Crispin repeated, tightening his hold on Aura's arm. She took the hint and attempted a smile, knowing it would come out like a sort of sideways frown.
"So we can proceed now, yes?" Ludwig asked the mayor. "We can proceed with the naming of the tributes."
"I have already expressed my disinterest in choosing a tribute in this matter. I simply refuse."
"You can't refuse," Ludwig responded, walking over and sitting down on the railing of the staircase. They all did the same. Aura finally had a chance to break free of Crispin's grasp and sat down with her legs between her arms. "That's just not acceptable, Mayor Quimby. You must act on the decree of the Capitol—we were the ones who elected you! When you have a direct order from the Head Gamemaker, you have to take action on it."
"Or I can… not take action." He waved his hands in the air defiantly. "Every year, you are the one who takes the Reaping, Mr. Orretter, not me. Not anyone else in this District but you has that responsibility—except this year. You didn't elect me to perform this job. I will not send one of my own to die for your entertainment."
"I mean, if we're being honest, she's sending herself," Crispin remarked. "You didn't volunteer her last week. She did."
"Under the hand of—"
"Please! Gentlemen," the fat escort interrupted. "I mean, I understand the heat behind your arguments, but can we not sit and have a civilized discussion on the footstep of our great nation? I would hate to bloody the halls."
Mayor Quimby stepped forward, his mustache quivering, as impressive as a man the size of a boy could be. "Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?"
"It doesn't have to be a threat, so long as you make the decision and leave it alone. For God's sake, you can even do the Reaping again, it just has to be your hand in the bowl this time." He stood up for a moment and sat down again checking his pocket watch. He read the time through half-spectacles. "You haven't got much time left, sir. It's not a difficult decision. For the most part, it's already been made for you."
"I don't have to comply with your demands, Ludwig," Quimby spat the words on the ground. This was the most hostile Aura had ever seen him. "Give me an hour and a block of wood and I can make something miles better than any citizen of the Capitol can make sitting in their bean bag chairs with their glasses of champagne. Here, we sweat for our living." He pointed to Aura in his burst. "And they sweat for yours!"
The last few words shut him up for a few moments. "…While that was a very passionate response, it was an entirely unnecessary one," Ludwig said, calmly. "The tributes of District Seven will be at the Capitol in one weeks' time whether it's by your hand or not. The only thing that you have power over is whether or not you'll be terminated."
"I'd rather lose my job."
"Termination by Snow's standards is more than your job."
Quimby seemed more hesitant to this threat, but he remained adamant. "I'm not going to willingly forfeit my respect for my district. My district comes before my nation."
This was the side of Mayor Quimby that Aura loved. He was a very tough man—the only mayor she had ever known, but the best regardless. She would often see him in town square tending the gardens himself and saying hello to all the passersby. If there were anyone that loved this District more than he did, Aura would have been shocked.
"I volunteer," Aura whimpered, away from all of it. Her cry caught the attention of all three of them. Crispin shot her a frown, Ludwig a grin, Quimby a look of confusion.
"You already volunteered," Ludwig countered.
Aura turned to the mayor. "It's very good of you to stick up for me, sir, but I have given into this. This… is my destiny. I know it."
"This isn't your destiny, girl," he said. "You're too young. You have yet to get a job… get married… have a family. There are so many things in life that you have left to do."
"That's the same for every other girl. I have to take their place." She sighed, hoping that Crispin would approve of the show. "I have to do this. Just give me your blessing and be done with it. You don't have to carry it like a burden."
"I… I can't. It's wrong."
"Mayor, look out there." Aura pointed to the courtyard in front of the Justice Building. There were people bustling about their morning routines. "They need you as a mayor more than I need you as a savior."
"She makes a good point, Huck," Ludwig pitched in. Aura looked over to her uncle. The expression led her to believe the man was furious, yet the others wouldn't be able to tell. They weren't looking for it.
Quimby took a long sigh, and eventually, he nodded. "I wish it were that easy, Aura. You're just one of two…"
As he spoke, Aura saw someone approaching them: a boy with a rounded head of thin, black hair. He was walking slowly, staring at nothing, alone amidst the courtyard. When he stepped up the steps of the Justice Building, Aura saw he recognized him… He was the most popular boy in primary school, Jack Wildheart. What was he doing here?"
"And you must be Mr. Wildheart." Ludwig smiled, approaching him to shake his hand.
"Hi…" he shook the escort's hand limply, but his stare was gray and dead. He was almost completely different than the boy she knew from school. "I'm sorry," he choked out, in a deep, husky voice. "I'm sorry for making you wait, Mr. Orretter."
"Oh, it's no problem. Why don't you tell our mutual friends why you're here?"
"I'm a tribute…" he said. "I had to be."
Aura was taken aback with shock. Jack had so many friends at school—he had a life. In that moment, she understood his change of tone. He realized he had sold himself away…
"Ah!" Ludwig smiled wide, revealing his yellowing teeth. None but Aura noticed Jack scooting back slightly towards the steps. "You're going to have a lovely time, Mr. Wildheart. Tell them what you told me, son."
"I volunteer as tribute." The words were coarse and hollow when Jack said them.
Ludwig clapped his hands. "I don't know if any of you remember, but Jack here had a brother in the Hunger Games a few years ago… and Aura had a sister. This will be spectacular! Imagine how well the sponsors will love them, a pair of kids who volunteered to succeed where their families failed!"
Aura wasn't watching Ludwig, as he continued to spout evangelical nonsense about the Games. She was watching Jack, hoping for once that he would look over and see her. She hoped that he would see she understood, that she wanted to help. But Jack wasn't even here, he was far away, reminiscing about something… Aura wondered what it was.
"Well, we have our tributes for the Twenty-Fifth, wouldn't you say, Huck?" the escort asked the mayor, taking Aura and Jack's hands and raising them up in the air beside him. The man stunk horribly and Aura tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. "Look, I've done all this work for you. Here are your bloody tributes. They both volunteered, for Pete's sake, you don't even have to feel guilty! Just say you've chosen and this will all go over hunky dory."
Quimby looked back and forth from the tributes to the escort. "Just do it, Mayor," Crispin suggested. "Get it over with."
"…Fine," the mayor finally sighed, standing up. "But I would like to express my deep disdain for this action. The Capitol should at least grant us that."
"Oh, don't worry, sir," Ludwig smiled a yellow smile. "They will."
"Now, if that's all," Crispin started. "I'd like to run home now. I have two sweet little boys to take care of."
"Of course you can, you," the fat man laughed. "You've done your part. Don't be a stranger now! You and your family are one of my favorite parts of this District."
"Thanks, Ludd," Crispin replied, tipping his invisible hat. "Can I speak to Aura for just a moment before you jet her off?"
"I don't see why not!" Ludwig let go of Aura's arm and pushed her towards her uncle. "Just make it quick. We don't have all day."
Aura approached her uncle cautiously. She knew she had disobeyed him, but she wasn't sure why he was so angry. Everything had worked out. "What the hell was that?" Crispin whispered to her, gripping her shoulder so hard his knuckles turned white.
She shrugged his arm off. "You don't own me, Crispin. You may think you do, but you don't."
"Of course I don't own you. But I own your name." He pointed to himself. "Anything you do in the arena gets linked back to your family. You just downright screwed your chances of getting a good sponsor."
"What?" She was confused. "How so? I'm still going into the Games whether I talked or not!"
"The mayor, Aura… The mayor."
"What about the mayor?"
"He was the one who was going to give you sponsors from our people. Now you have nothing."
She flailed her arms angrily. In what world was he living in that this was her fault? "I saved his life, Uncle Crispin! How does that not count for something?"
"Did you?" he chuckled. "Did you?"
"…Yeah."
"The way I see it, Quimby just expressed a refusal to a direct order from the Capitol. Whether or not it turned out alright doesn't matter. They know his true feelings now." Crispin began to put heat behind his words—more so than before. "You didn't save anything. And now, Ludwig saw you standing up for him: the traitor. That makes you a traitor too. And when the mayor is gone, who is the one who has the most control over the District? Ludwig himself. You just screwed yourself over, Aura. Think before you talk."
She wanted to scream back at him, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She'd tried to save the mayor's life and it had cost her her own… "Well… what do I do about it?"
Crispin turned around and began to walk away, through the magnificent courtyard. "You better put on one hell of a show."
She watched her uncle drift farther and farther away. She knew this was probably the last she would ever see him, and while she was happy about that, she couldn't help but want to ask him one more thing. This might be her last chance. "Crispin!" she shouted, gathering his attention.
"Yeah?" he asked, coming back.
"Tell me the truth." She couldn't find the strength to look him in those piercing, narrow eyes. She clutched Schrodinger's owl pendant close as she asked, "Did you… Did you kill my father?"
"What?" he responded with shock. "Why would you think I would do that? I may have killed a lot of people in the past, but my own brother? Aura, you know me better…"
"You didn't?" she continued. "Because for the last few days, you've almost seemed to physically get off on the idea of replacing him. It's—"
"You really think I killed Rowan, don't you?" The look on his face was genuine for once. "I didn't murder my own brother, Aura. And I'm offended you would even ask me that."
"Well… That's good to hear." She sighed. "Now I'm back in the dark."
He turned around and stepped slowly away, not taking a moment to look back. "Don't expect my sponsor this year. May the odds be ever in your favor."
End of Chapter 20
Aura Cantarella
Today is a good day, Aura," said Crispin, a smile spread wide across his narrow face. "The sun is rising, and there's not a cloud in the sky to stop it!"
Aura had a different attitude toward today. She had been dreading it ever since she went to sleep last night. She didn't and would never understand how her uncle got such a perverse satisfaction from seeing death… As she was steered through town square towards the Justice Building, she knew the man was feeling that same feeling. Sometimes Aura wondered whether Crispin cared about anyone at all. Or maybe his idea of caring meant something different…
Through everything that was happening, she had to admit it really was a nice day. The sunlight felt warm on the edge of her arms. She could even hear a few birds chirping in the distance, flying south for the winter: a sound which she thought had altogether vanished from District Seven. She passed the run down restaurants and bars of the Lumberyard, as they called it. People were scuttling from one place to the next, eager to get their next task for the day. It was almost like they forgot they lived here…
"Today's the day I die," Aura spoke softly to herself. She walked through the town spreading her… well, her negative aura.
Crispin punched her hard in the shoulder, and she winced in pain. Some of the townsfolk around them glanced over in shock. "What did I tell you about talking like that, girl?" he asked in hushed anger. "You don't die today. You start living today."
"Uncle Crispin, have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself?" She shot back. "Because I'm starting to wonder."
"What? Aura, you wound me!" He laughed. "I care about you, and your brothers. I even care about your damn father, curse his name. I care about this whole district!" He began to yell, gesturing to the world around them. His act drew a lot of unwanted attention, but he didn't seem to care. "Yeah, you!" he smiled and laughed. "You're all my best friends!"
A mother of two children turned them both away from the man and fled inside. Aura knew if she had children she would do the same. She wouldn't even want to share the same street with Crispin. But it was fairly difficult expressing such an opinion when he was your uncle.
"Funny thing is, I did just about the same thing you did, Aura," Crispin told her. "I know it's not hard when your Games was the third, but I was the first volunteer in District Seven. It warms my heart to know that Rowan wasn't the last."
"You volunteered. Good for you," Aura barked, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and her uncle.
"Why are you being so cold?" he asked, with a look on his face that said he felt sorry but didn't mean it. "I told you, today's a great day!"
"And I told you—"
"No! Ah ah ah!" He pressed an oily finger to Aura's lips, effectively silencing. He leaned in close enough she could smell his grimy breath. "Today is… a good day… You wouldn't want to do something to screw that up."
The walk to the Justice building proved much longer than Aura remembered it, because she felt the weight of each step she took. Crispin was clearly more engaged than she was, as he was constantly five feet further and nagging her to speed up. "We haven't got all day!" He would tell her over and over… She passed Feeli, the butcher, on the way there. She passed him a gentle smile and he waved back. And then Vixen, the librarian… And Sammy, the boy from a few blocks down… Bent, Lonnia and Wenneka… District Seven was a small District, and this town was tightly wound, despite being the capitol city. She didn't think there was any one person in this town who didn't know her name. And by now… everyone else knew hers… This was most likely the last time she would ever see any of them.
"Now, when you get in there," Crispin said, taking her hard by the shoulder. "I want you to stay bloody quiet. I do the talking here. Understand?"
Aura raised an eyebrow. It was enough she was being sent to the Capitol against her will, but now Crispin was suggesting she be tossed around like a rag doll to add insult to injury. She'd dealt with Ludwig Orretter and the mayor before; she was confident she could handle herself. "And what makes you think you can speak on my behalf?"
Crispin chuckled, coming to a halt in the center of town square, a mere hundred feet from the Justice Building. "I know the guys you'll meet in there," he said. "Ludwig is a friendly fellow… And Mayor Quimby, we may not see eye to eye, but he respects me."
"So? What's this got to do with me?"
"It's got everything to do with you, girl," he snarled. "You wanna survive in the arena, you're going to have to have sponsors. Now the majority of those come from the District you call home. And if there's anyone you want on your side, it's the mayor. He'll broadcast about you all over the place… He's exactly the kind of man you want to kiss up to."
"I don't kiss up," Aura shot back, breaking away from his hold.
"Yes you do." He shook his head. "You do if you want to live. Look, you'd be surprised how much your mouth is going to froth every time that metal drone delivers you a can of beans from heaven. Something even as simple as a single throwing knife could save your life. You remember Paulie O'Neal from my Games?"
"No." Aura shook her head, ignoring him abruptly.
"I always remember my kills…"
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get him to stop hassling her about this. So she decided she might as well listen to what he had to say. "I don't watch the Games."
"Well, that's a mistake, dear. You gotta at least know the style of the arena. The new Head Gamemaker, Roman Walsh, has had some pretty interesting ones since he was appointed three years ago. You have to study him… know how he thinks. Gamemakers are built like animals. They've usually got the upper hand, but if you take the time to really watch them run around, you know exactly where they're going to scamper to next."
"I don't like watching the Games," Aura replied. "I stopped watching years ago. Everyone gets their hopes up… just to watch their kid get gored by some Career. It's depressing."
"Well, anyway…" Crispin continued. "Paulie O'Neal. She was the ninth girl I killed in the arena, a little elf from District Five. She thought she could get through the Games by hiding out under a log the whole time. She pleaded with me. There were enough tears on her face to fill a swimming pool… She was talking about how no one from her District liked her. She hadn't gotten any sponsors yet. She asked me to bloody wait… She asked me for a fighting chance."
"What did you do?"
"Oh, I slit her throat." He nodded, motioning the brutal act with his arm. "And the knife, you know where I got it?"
"A sponsor."
"You got it." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the pocket knife he'd shown her last night. "Just goes to show: you might be the best in the world at running and hiding, but if you don't have something to protect yourself when it all goes to hell, it won't mean a damn thing. And that, Aura, is why you need me to speak for you to the mayor and the escort. I don't know any better way of attracting sponsors."
Aura wasn't sure what to do. She always hated it when people robbed her of her voice, but Crispin had made more than a few good points. She didn't want to kiss up to anyone… She wanted to stand on her own two feet like she did at the Reaping. In a way, she'd already given up, but she knew she wouldn't be thinking that the moment she set foot in the arena. She reached to her neck and caressed the string that held the owl pendant to her neck, deep in thought.
75% of readers chose to [A. Accept Crispin's Aid.]
"Just get on with it…" Aura sighed, crossing her arms.
"Oh, I didn't need your permission," her uncle replied. "I only asked to be polite. This… talking to the mayor… is grown up stuff. You wouldn't understand."
The words infuriated her more than almost anything he'd said to her yet. It wasn't that he was just insane and disturbing, but he was condescending… She couldn't help but clench her jaw in anger. After everything she'd been through, raising Corvin and Barker where her father failed, she was just as much an adult as the rest of them, if not more so.
"I wouldn't understand?" she retorted. "Why don't you say that to my face?'
"Okay." He spun around and looked her straight in the eyes, grabbing her arm and squeezing it hard. "You wouldn't understand," he said again.
Aura forcefully broke free of Crispin's grip and stepped a few feet to the side. A couple of the townspeople around her had taken notice of the scene, but none of them moved to help. They only stared and watched… like it were on a monitor… "Get off me, you creep…"
"Now, now… Is that any way to talk to your father?"
"You're not my father."
"I'm a better one than Rowan."
"Yeah, I doubt it."
Crispin raised his palm in the air and brought it down hard onto Aura's cheek. It stung like hell, but she remained firmly rooted in the ground. If there was one thing that living in this District had taught her, it was to stand her ground. She regained her composure and an officer in white rushed over, baton in hand, to the scene. He took the weapon and held it up to Crispin's neck in a threatening manner. "Did he hurt you, ma'am?" The Peacekeeper asked Aura over his shoulder.
"No…" she gave back, grudgingly. "We were just having a disagreement."
The Peacekeeper reluctantly withdrew the baton from Crispin's neck slowly, but then pointed it at him. "I've got my eye on you… Try anything funny and—"
"Do you know who I am?" Crispin interrupted, intense in a such a way that the soldier squirmed in his boots.
"Can't say I do…" he replied. "It's not like it matters. You can't just hit—"
"Crispin Cantarella. Victor of the Third Annual Hunger Games. If you touch me again, I'll make sure the Capitol is on top of you faster than you can put on your pretty white suit." Crispin took a step forward, pushing the Peacekeeper back. "Have you ever felt pain, officer? I can tell you've been shot before by the way your shoulder keeps twitching, holding that baton… Did it hurt? I know ways to make you think that was just a bee sting by comparison."
He backed away, trembling with fear. "You're really—"
"Yes."
The Peacekeeper regained some solid footing and puffed up his armored chest. "You can't speak to me like that. I am an officer of justice, a soldier in President Snow's army. You will respect me, or I can have you arrested, right here and now. I don't care who you are."
Crispin shook his head. "I don't think you could if you tried. Through all my years, there has only been one man who has beaten me in a fight, and that's my father. He's dead." Aura was disgusted at his mentioning of her grandfather. The man had been the most caring person she'd ever known and it hurt her to watch her uncle brush off his name without a hint of remorse.
"And what did you say about respect? You want me to respect a man who missed a few spots on his lower jaw shaving this morning? You want me to respect a man who's holding his baton the wrong way around? You want me to respect someone who doesn't care enough about his title to display his name tag proudly on the front of his chest plate? Just be thankful I don't know your name. No, officer. Respect is for the weak-willed and the childish. This is the real world. You don't fight for respect here. You fight for survival."
In an instant, the Peacekeeper raised his baton high above and tried to bring it down onto Crispin's shoulder. Before it landed, Crispin blocked the blow on his forearm and put a palm in his armored sternum, launching him backwards. As the Peacekeeper flew off his feet, Crispin grabbed the handle of his baton and twisted it, easily loosening his grip. As the man laid on the ground, Crispin found a chink in the armor of his leg and bashed his kneecap in, shattering it.
In the midst of the man's screaming, Crispin smiled wide at his niece. "What a lovely day!" he exclaimed.
"You're insane…" said Aura, backing away.
"Oh, honey…" he laughed. "You don't know the half of it. Although, you're soon entering the arena. You'll learn soon enough."
"You just assaulted a Peacekeeper!" she accused him, pointing a shaky finger in his direction. She always knew the man was violent, but she'd never actually seen him in action. "You can be sentenced for this."
"No, weren't you watching? He assaulted me! Perfectly different…" Crispin held his elbow out, waiting for her to link arms. "Shall we?" She wasn't sure what choice she had but to take it.
Aura took a dozen heavier steps towards the massive monolith that was the Justice Building. Every time she passed one of the buildings at her side, it seemed to go by slower. She had to force her steps, and her pain didn't allow her any leeway to make fewer of them. However, eventually, the walk came to an end and the Justice Building laid at her feet. Colossal marble columns shot into the sky higher than anything else in Seven. Aura knew this was the last she would see of her home.
Crispin was the first to take a step onto the brilliant staircase leading to the front entrance, and Aura was dragged in tow. She figured there wasn't any stopping it now. She might as well not cause any commotion. Before the two of them reached the entrance, its iron doors flung open in front of them, to produce an obscenely fat man and a small, hairy one. They were Ludwig Orretter, the escort from the Capitol, and their very own, Mayor Huck Quimby.
Mayor Quimby was a short man with a distinguished air about him. He stood about as high as Corvin did, yet he gave off an air of wisdom. His gray mustache was bushy, and yet cleanly trimmed, and his graying-brown hair was coifed slightly to the right. Upon her encounters with this man, she'd seen him to be an honorable one; far more so than the two men next to him.
"I will not be made the enemy here!" shouted Mayor Quimby, raising a matter-of-fact finger in the air.
"Oh please, Mayor, give me one good reason why this isn't the answer and maybe we'd have a topic to discuss over brunch…" Ludwig turned his attention to Aura and a smiling Crispin on their doormat. "Ah, hello there, old friend! Put on a little weight, I see!"
"Yes, it's good to see you too, Ludd," Crispin laughed along with him. "You're one to talk." This remark would have made any sane person sneer, but oddly enough, they exchanged a chuckle.
"I say, you are the most charismatic tribute that has ever come out of Seven, lad." He placed his hands on his beer belly. "And I see you have brought—"
"My daughter, Aura," Crispin interrupted.
Ludwig raised a dark gray eyebrow. "Your daughter? I thought that Rowan was her father. You are her uncle, are you not?"
"I was her uncle. Rowan… stepped out. I'm her guardian now." He looked down at the girl on his arm. "I feel like I'm giving her up to her husband on her wedding day… She's grown up so fast."
There were a million words she wanted to say to shut him up, but all of them were crude, so she bit her tongue. Crispin is in charge, she told herself, he's in charge… he's in charge… It was so difficult to tell herself that.
Ludwig was doubtful, but passed it off as nothing and continued. "Well, she's our female volunteer this year, isn't she? You made quite the show at the Reaping last week, honey. How do you feel about your spot in the Games?"
Even though the question was directly aimed at her, Crispin answered before she could. "She's very excited about it. On the way over here, she couldn't stop raving about how she was going to win. Right?"
Aura nodded stiffly.
"And yet, she doesn't share this same view now?" Mayor Quimby added, stepping into the conversation. "Good lord, Crispin, look at the girl. She's scared to death. If that were true, she would be the one telling me so, not you."
"All the way… here…" Crispin repeated, tightening his hold on Aura's arm. She took the hint and attempted a smile, knowing it would come out like a sort of sideways frown.
"So we can proceed now, yes?" Ludwig asked the mayor. "We can proceed with the naming of the tributes."
"I have already expressed my disinterest in choosing a tribute in this matter. I simply refuse."
"You can't refuse," Ludwig responded, walking over and sitting down on the railing of the staircase. They all did the same. Aura finally had a chance to break free of Crispin's grasp and sat down with her legs between her arms. "That's just not acceptable, Mayor Quimby. You must act on the decree of the Capitol—we were the ones who elected you! When you have a direct order from the Head Gamemaker, you have to take action on it."
"Or I can… not take action." He waved his hands in the air defiantly. "Every year, you are the one who takes the Reaping, Mr. Orretter, not me. Not anyone else in this District but you has that responsibility—except this year. You didn't elect me to perform this job. I will not send one of my own to die for your entertainment."
"I mean, if we're being honest, she's sending herself," Crispin remarked. "You didn't volunteer her last week. She did."
"Under the hand of—"
"Please! Gentlemen," the fat escort interrupted. "I mean, I understand the heat behind your arguments, but can we not sit and have a civilized discussion on the footstep of our great nation? I would hate to bloody the halls."
Mayor Quimby stepped forward, his mustache quivering, as impressive as a man the size of a boy could be. "Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?"
"It doesn't have to be a threat, so long as you make the decision and leave it alone. For God's sake, you can even do the Reaping again, it just has to be your hand in the bowl this time." He stood up for a moment and sat down again checking his pocket watch. He read the time through half-spectacles. "You haven't got much time left, sir. It's not a difficult decision. For the most part, it's already been made for you."
"I don't have to comply with your demands, Ludwig," Quimby spat the words on the ground. This was the most hostile Aura had ever seen him. "Give me an hour and a block of wood and I can make something miles better than any citizen of the Capitol can make sitting in their bean bag chairs with their glasses of champagne. Here, we sweat for our living." He pointed to Aura in his burst. "And they sweat for yours!"
The last few words shut him up for a few moments. "…While that was a very passionate response, it was an entirely unnecessary one," Ludwig said, calmly. "The tributes of District Seven will be at the Capitol in one weeks' time whether it's by your hand or not. The only thing that you have power over is whether or not you'll be terminated."
"I'd rather lose my job."
"Termination by Snow's standards is more than your job."
Quimby seemed more hesitant to this threat, but he remained adamant. "I'm not going to willingly forfeit my respect for my district. My district comes before my nation."
This was the side of Mayor Quimby that Aura loved. He was a very tough man—the only mayor she had ever known, but the best regardless. She would often see him in town square tending the gardens himself and saying hello to all the passersby. If there were anyone that loved this District more than he did, Aura would have been shocked.
"I volunteer," Aura whimpered, away from all of it. Her cry caught the attention of all three of them. Crispin shot her a frown, Ludwig a grin, Quimby a look of confusion.
"You already volunteered," Ludwig countered.
Aura turned to the mayor. "It's very good of you to stick up for me, sir, but I have given into this. This… is my destiny. I know it."
"This isn't your destiny, girl," he said. "You're too young. You have yet to get a job… get married… have a family. There are so many things in life that you have left to do."
"That's the same for every other girl. I have to take their place." She sighed, hoping that Crispin would approve of the show. "I have to do this. Just give me your blessing and be done with it. You don't have to carry it like a burden."
"I… I can't. It's wrong."
"Mayor, look out there." Aura pointed to the courtyard in front of the Justice Building. There were people bustling about their morning routines. "They need you as a mayor more than I need you as a savior."
"She makes a good point, Huck," Ludwig pitched in. Aura looked over to her uncle. The expression led her to believe the man was furious, yet the others wouldn't be able to tell. They weren't looking for it.
Quimby took a long sigh, and eventually, he nodded. "I wish it were that easy, Aura. You're just one of two…"
As he spoke, Aura saw someone approaching them: a boy with a rounded head of thin, black hair. He was walking slowly, staring at nothing, alone amidst the courtyard. When he stepped up the steps of the Justice Building, Aura saw he recognized him… He was the most popular boy in primary school, Jack Wildheart. What was he doing here?"
"And you must be Mr. Wildheart." Ludwig smiled, approaching him to shake his hand.
"Hi…" he shook the escort's hand limply, but his stare was gray and dead. He was almost completely different than the boy she knew from school. "I'm sorry," he choked out, in a deep, husky voice. "I'm sorry for making you wait, Mr. Orretter."
"Oh, it's no problem. Why don't you tell our mutual friends why you're here?"
"I'm a tribute…" he said. "I had to be."
Aura was taken aback with shock. Jack had so many friends at school—he had a life. In that moment, she understood his change of tone. He realized he had sold himself away…
"Ah!" Ludwig smiled wide, revealing his yellowing teeth. None but Aura noticed Jack scooting back slightly towards the steps. "You're going to have a lovely time, Mr. Wildheart. Tell them what you told me, son."
"I volunteer as tribute." The words were coarse and hollow when Jack said them.
Ludwig clapped his hands. "I don't know if any of you remember, but Jack here had a brother in the Hunger Games a few years ago… and Aura had a sister. This will be spectacular! Imagine how well the sponsors will love them, a pair of kids who volunteered to succeed where their families failed!"
Aura wasn't watching Ludwig, as he continued to spout evangelical nonsense about the Games. She was watching Jack, hoping for once that he would look over and see her. She hoped that he would see she understood, that she wanted to help. But Jack wasn't even here, he was far away, reminiscing about something… Aura wondered what it was.
"Well, we have our tributes for the Twenty-Fifth, wouldn't you say, Huck?" the escort asked the mayor, taking Aura and Jack's hands and raising them up in the air beside him. The man stunk horribly and Aura tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. "Look, I've done all this work for you. Here are your bloody tributes. They both volunteered, for Pete's sake, you don't even have to feel guilty! Just say you've chosen and this will all go over hunky dory."
Quimby looked back and forth from the tributes to the escort. "Just do it, Mayor," Crispin suggested. "Get it over with."
"…Fine," the mayor finally sighed, standing up. "But I would like to express my deep disdain for this action. The Capitol should at least grant us that."
"Oh, don't worry, sir," Ludwig smiled a yellow smile. "They will."
"Now, if that's all," Crispin started. "I'd like to run home now. I have two sweet little boys to take care of."
"Of course you can, you," the fat man laughed. "You've done your part. Don't be a stranger now! You and your family are one of my favorite parts of this District."
"Thanks, Ludd," Crispin replied, tipping his invisible hat. "Can I speak to Aura for just a moment before you jet her off?"
"I don't see why not!" Ludwig let go of Aura's arm and pushed her towards her uncle. "Just make it quick. We don't have all day."
Aura approached her uncle cautiously. She knew she had disobeyed him, but she wasn't sure why he was so angry. Everything had worked out. "What the hell was that?" Crispin whispered to her, gripping her shoulder so hard his knuckles turned white.
She shrugged his arm off. "You don't own me, Crispin. You may think you do, but you don't."
"Of course I don't own you. But I own your name." He pointed to himself. "Anything you do in the arena gets linked back to your family. You just downright screwed your chances of getting a good sponsor."
"What?" She was confused. "How so? I'm still going into the Games whether I talked or not!"
"The mayor, Aura… The mayor."
"What about the mayor?"
"He was the one who was going to give you sponsors from our people. Now you have nothing."
She flailed her arms angrily. In what world was he living in that this was her fault? "I saved his life, Uncle Crispin! How does that not count for something?"
"Did you?" he chuckled. "Did you?"
"…Yeah."
"The way I see it, Quimby just expressed a refusal to a direct order from the Capitol. Whether or not it turned out alright doesn't matter. They know his true feelings now." Crispin began to put heat behind his words—more so than before. "You didn't save anything. And now, Ludwig saw you standing up for him: the traitor. That makes you a traitor too. And when the mayor is gone, who is the one who has the most control over the District? Ludwig himself. You just screwed yourself over, Aura. Think before you talk."
She wanted to scream back at him, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She'd tried to save the mayor's life and it had cost her her own… "Well… what do I do about it?"
Crispin turned around and began to walk away, through the magnificent courtyard. "You better put on one hell of a show."
She watched her uncle drift farther and farther away. She knew this was probably the last she would ever see him, and while she was happy about that, she couldn't help but want to ask him one more thing. This might be her last chance. "Crispin!" she shouted, gathering his attention.
"Yeah?" he asked, coming back.
"Tell me the truth." She couldn't find the strength to look him in those piercing, narrow eyes. She clutched Schrodinger's owl pendant close as she asked, "Did you… Did you kill my father?"
"What?" he responded with shock. "Why would you think I would do that? I may have killed a lot of people in the past, but my own brother? Aura, you know me better…"
"You didn't?" she continued. "Because for the last few days, you've almost seemed to physically get off on the idea of replacing him. It's—"
"You really think I killed Rowan, don't you?" The look on his face was genuine for once. "I didn't murder my own brother, Aura. And I'm offended you would even ask me that."
"Well… That's good to hear." She sighed. "Now I'm back in the dark."
He turned around and stepped slowly away, not taking a moment to look back. "Don't expect my sponsor this year. May the odds be ever in your favor."
End of Chapter 20
