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Chapter 4
For a few moments, Peeta and I take in the scene of our
dinner up. We exchange a glance. Obviously Haymitch isn’t
much, but Effie Trinket is right about one thing, once we’re in
agreement, Peeta and I each take one of Haymitch’s arms and
help him to his feet.
“I tripped?” Haymitch asks. “Smells bad.” He wipes his hand
“Let’s get you back to your room,” says Peeta. “Clean you up
a bit.”
We half-lead half-carry Haymitch back to his compartment7.
Since we can’t exactly set him down on the embroidered
bedspread, we haul him into the bathtub and turn the shower
on him. He hardly notices.
“It’s okay,” Peeta says to me. “I’ll take it from here.”
I can’t help feeling a little grateful since the last thing I want
to do is strip down Haymitch, wash the vomit out of his chest
hair, and tuck him into bed. Possibly Peeta is trying to make a
good impression on him, to be his favorite once the Games
begin. But judging by the state he’s in, Haymitch will have no
memory of this tomorrow. “All right,” I say. “I can send one
of the Capitol people to help you.” There’s any number on the
train. Cooking for us. Waiting on us. Guarding us. Taking care
of us is their job.
“No. I don’t want them,” says Peeta.
I nod and head to my own room. I understand how Peeta
feels. I can’t stand the sight of the Capitol people myself. But
making them deal with Haymitch might be a small form of
revenge. So I’m pondering the reason why he insists on taking
care of Haymitch and all of a sudden I think, It’s because he’s
being kind. Just as he was kind to give me the bread.The idea
pulls me up short. A kind Peeta Mellark is far more dangerous
to me than an unkind one. Kind people have a way of working
their way inside me and rooting there. And I can’t let Peeta do
this. Not where we’re going. So I decide, from this moment on,
to have as little as possible to do with the baker’s son.
When I get back to my room, the train is pausing at a platform
to refuel. I quickly open the window, toss the cookies
Peeta’s father gave me out of the train, and slam the glass
shut. No more. No more of either of them.
Unfortunately, the packet of cookies hits the ground and
bursts open in a patch of dandelions by the track. I only see
the image for a moment, because the train is off again, but
it’s enough. Enough to remind me of that other dandelion
in the school yard years ago . . .
when I saw the dandelion and I knew hope wasn’t lost. I
plucked it carefully and hurried home. I grabbed a bucket and
with the golden-headed weeds. After we’d harvested those,
we scrounged along inside the fence for probably a mile until
we’d filled the bucket with the dandelion greens, stems, and
and the rest of the bakery bread.
“What else?” Prim asked me. “What other food can we
find?”
“All kinds of things,” I promised her. “I just have to remember
them.”
My mother had a book she’d brought with her from the
apothecary11 shop. The pages were made of old parchment and
covered in ink drawings of plants. Neat handwritten blocks
told their names, where to gather them, when they came in
bloom, their medical uses. But my father added other entries
to the book. Plants for eating, not healing. Dandelions,
pokeweed, wild onions, pines. Prim and I spent the rest of the
night poring over those pages.
The next day, we were off school. For a while I hung around
the edges of the Meadow, but finally I worked up the courage
to go under the fence. It was the first time I’d been there
alone, without my father’s weapons to protect me. But I
hollow tree. I probably didn’t go more than twenty yards into
the woods that day. Most of the time, I perched up in the
branches of an old oak, hoping for game to come by. After
several hours, I had the good luck to kill a rabbit.
I’d shot a few rabbits before, with my father’s guidance. But
this I’d done on my own.
We hadn’t had meat in months. The sight of the rabbit
seemed to stir something in my mother. She roused herself,
more greens Prim had gathered. Then she acted confused and
went back to bed, but when the stew was done, we made her
eat a bowl.
The woods became our savior, and each day I went a bit
farther into its arms.
点击收听单词发音
1 mentor | |
n.指导者,良师益友;v.指导 | |
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2 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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3 reek | |
v.发出臭气;n.恶臭 | |
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4 vomit | |
v.呕吐,作呕;n.呕吐物,吐出物 | |
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5 arena | |
n.竞技场,运动场所;竞争场所,舞台 | |
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6 smearing | |
污点,拖尾效应 | |
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7 compartment | |
n.卧车包房,隔间;分隔的空间 | |
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8 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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9 prim | |
adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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10 gorged | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 );作呕 | |
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11 apothecary | |
n.药剂师 | |
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12 retrieved | |
v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 );恢复;寻回;检索(储存的信息) | |
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13 stew | |
n.炖汤,焖,烦恼;v.炖汤,焖,忧虑 | |
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