Find Another Way Part 5
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
Hazelle Hawthorne goes home from her expedition having spent far longer at her first stop than she intended but still arriving home earlier than she had dared to hope. The boys are wound (she really expected nothing less from the three of them being left to their own devices, and she tries to process as she settles them back into a more normal routine). She needs her thoughts together before Ty arrives home from the mines so that she can tell him of the offer and be prepared for all of the questions that she knows he will have. They will need to have a lengthy talk after the boys have been sent to bed - she has a job. That fact settles across her thoughts as if it is something other that her brain cannot quite process (which just makes everything stranger because a job is, after all, the reason she went knocking at the Mayor's back door in the first place).
[(more)]
She was at the right place at the right time - had made a series of decisions that had led to an offer. She finds that the hardest part to wrap her head around. She is hardly the first person in the District to be desperate (and she can admit that never yet having watched her children starving means that she is not even the most desperate), but, she supposes, she is the one who came looking. That, it seems, makes all of the difference. She took a chance, and it has paid off - she cannot claim to be completely unfamiliar with such an occurrance. She is married to a man who makes regular trips outside of the official borders of their District on the chance of keeping them better fed and cared for after all.
Gale can tell that they want to talk without an audience and seems to put up more of a fight about going to bed than usual. Hazelle knows that he is without a doubt hovering just on the other side of the door attempting to listen in on them. He knows their conversations of late have revolved around him and tessarae and the struggle to keep them going on the remains of a garnished paycheck. He knows that she did something unusual today even if he does not know what that unusual thing was exactly, and he is both curious and suspicious. She does not think that he will be able to make out much of what they are saying. Ty knows their eldest is hovering as well as she does, and they both keep their voices down as much as they can. Besides, they have been married for a lot of years (with small children under foot who do not always need to be privy to what the adults are saying around for most of those years) - nearly half of their communication on the topic is being conveyed in facial expressions and hand gestures.
Ty has reservations; she has reservations. After all, she is going to be working for a District official in a capacity where there will be contact with Capitolites on a routine basis while her family actively engages in poaching - a crime that carries a penalty of execution if the laws are strictly enforced. It is not the best of combinations. They have a long into the night discussion of any and all potential pitfalls that they can imagine (and the two of them can imagine quite a lot - it has, after all, not been so long since the harsher penalties in the District had been more strictly enforced in the crackdown that had followed the last Quarter Quell). There are dangers, but there are always dangers. The question is one of whether or not the gains are worth chancing the dangers and whether or not the dangers can be mitigated. They talk through it the best that they can with the best of the knowledge and numbers at their disposal.
Their discussion leads to what feels like (to Hazelle at any rate) the inevitable conclusion. The weighing and consideration and looking out for all of the potential downfalls in an attempt to not be blindsided by something that had not been immediately obvious cannot change the fact that there is more to be gained than to be risked by her acceptance. They need this. There will be no tesserae registration when Gale's birthday arrives. What could outweigh that? The discussion had to be had (because that is how she and Ty function), but she thinks they both knew from the first exchange of words that there was only one decision to ultimately be made.
In the end, the job is a chance (much like bringing contraband from the woods back into the District or even going out into those woods in the first place) that they will take while hoping that the odds work out in their favor. It is not just a job. It is not just extra security for their family. It is the difference in Gale's odds in the Reaping. She would be willing to hazard far more in exchange for that.
She is not just hoping herself into seeing something that is not actually there. She has worked the numbers forwards, backwards, and practically upside down to make sure that they can make it work. If she was a single woman, then the salary she will be receiving would keep her comfortable (and not just Seam not starving and can keep the fire mostly going comfortable). As a married woman with three children, it will be tight, but doable. And when Ty's check is no longer being garnished to pay back the doctor, well . . . she will think about the possibilities when they get to that point. She cannot let herself make plans for that far ahead - not when recent events have reminded her again of how easily such plans can shift out from underneath them.
She is still struggling with the fact that everything seems to have worked out too well even after she and Ty have ended their conversation and taken themselves off to bed. It is as though everything that was potentially in her way has been smoothed over before she even asks.
She can even bring Rory and Vick with her so long as she is completing her tasks in a timely manner and they stay out of the way of any visitors that might be in the house. She is not certain what to make of those instructions (she does not want her boys around people from the Capitol in any case, so she supposes that it does not really matter), but Mrs. Undersee (when she had for lack of a better term sobered up some) had seemed strangely pleased by the thought of some little boys potentially being wandering around her house.
Hazelle remembers what it was like being an only child who watched brothers and sisters make their way to and from school together and reckons she might understand the way that the little girl's eyes had sparkled when her mother told her that she would be able to play with the Hawthorne boys when she got home from school until Hazelle was ready to leave in the evenings.
Morning brings a grumbling opposition, but it is not one that will cause her to waver in her decision. Gale gives every indication of being less than pleased upon being informed that he will be responsible for walking to school with the Mayor's daughter in the mornings. Her oldest is a strange mix of relieved (and not wanting to admit that he has a reason to be relieved) and put out that he is not going to get to fill the role of helping for which he had volunteered. He so craves his father treating him as if he can be counted on to separate him from "the kids."
She tries to be understanding of such feelings - he takes his position as the oldest very seriously (and she loves how he loves his little brothers). That does not change the fact that he is still a few days shy of twelve - it would be her preference that he remain one of the kids for a little bit longer. She is making that happen as best as she can which includes her flat out refusal to allow him to stay home when she and the littles leave in the morning to get himself off to school.
Monday finds them at the back door of the largest building in the circle made up of houses that come as part of the compensation for working in a governmental position. Vick is tucked sleepily against her shoulder as Madge opens the door once again. She makes quick introductions and nearly swats her son when he responds to the girl's perfectly well-mannered "It's nice to meet you" with a half-grunted "Pretty dress" that even she isn't sure of the sincerity or sarcasm behind.
It is not the most auspicious of beginnings, but it is a beginning. She is daring to hope for better things to come.
Hazelle Hawthorne goes home from her expedition having spent far longer at her first stop than she intended but still arriving home earlier than she had dared to hope. The boys are wound (she really expected nothing less from the three of them being left to their own devices, and she tries to process as she settles them back into a more normal routine). She needs her thoughts together before Ty arrives home from the mines so that she can tell him of the offer and be prepared for all of the questions that she knows he will have. They will need to have a lengthy talk after the boys have been sent to bed - she has a job. That fact settles across her thoughts as if it is something other that her brain cannot quite process (which just makes everything stranger because a job is, after all, the reason she went knocking at the Mayor's back door in the first place).
[(more)]
She was at the right place at the right time - had made a series of decisions that had led to an offer. She finds that the hardest part to wrap her head around. She is hardly the first person in the District to be desperate (and she can admit that never yet having watched her children starving means that she is not even the most desperate), but, she supposes, she is the one who came looking. That, it seems, makes all of the difference. She took a chance, and it has paid off - she cannot claim to be completely unfamiliar with such an occurrance. She is married to a man who makes regular trips outside of the official borders of their District on the chance of keeping them better fed and cared for after all.
Gale can tell that they want to talk without an audience and seems to put up more of a fight about going to bed than usual. Hazelle knows that he is without a doubt hovering just on the other side of the door attempting to listen in on them. He knows their conversations of late have revolved around him and tessarae and the struggle to keep them going on the remains of a garnished paycheck. He knows that she did something unusual today even if he does not know what that unusual thing was exactly, and he is both curious and suspicious. She does not think that he will be able to make out much of what they are saying. Ty knows their eldest is hovering as well as she does, and they both keep their voices down as much as they can. Besides, they have been married for a lot of years (with small children under foot who do not always need to be privy to what the adults are saying around for most of those years) - nearly half of their communication on the topic is being conveyed in facial expressions and hand gestures.
Ty has reservations; she has reservations. After all, she is going to be working for a District official in a capacity where there will be contact with Capitolites on a routine basis while her family actively engages in poaching - a crime that carries a penalty of execution if the laws are strictly enforced. It is not the best of combinations. They have a long into the night discussion of any and all potential pitfalls that they can imagine (and the two of them can imagine quite a lot - it has, after all, not been so long since the harsher penalties in the District had been more strictly enforced in the crackdown that had followed the last Quarter Quell). There are dangers, but there are always dangers. The question is one of whether or not the gains are worth chancing the dangers and whether or not the dangers can be mitigated. They talk through it the best that they can with the best of the knowledge and numbers at their disposal.
Their discussion leads to what feels like (to Hazelle at any rate) the inevitable conclusion. The weighing and consideration and looking out for all of the potential downfalls in an attempt to not be blindsided by something that had not been immediately obvious cannot change the fact that there is more to be gained than to be risked by her acceptance. They need this. There will be no tesserae registration when Gale's birthday arrives. What could outweigh that? The discussion had to be had (because that is how she and Ty function), but she thinks they both knew from the first exchange of words that there was only one decision to ultimately be made.
In the end, the job is a chance (much like bringing contraband from the woods back into the District or even going out into those woods in the first place) that they will take while hoping that the odds work out in their favor. It is not just a job. It is not just extra security for their family. It is the difference in Gale's odds in the Reaping. She would be willing to hazard far more in exchange for that.
She is not just hoping herself into seeing something that is not actually there. She has worked the numbers forwards, backwards, and practically upside down to make sure that they can make it work. If she was a single woman, then the salary she will be receiving would keep her comfortable (and not just Seam not starving and can keep the fire mostly going comfortable). As a married woman with three children, it will be tight, but doable. And when Ty's check is no longer being garnished to pay back the doctor, well . . . she will think about the possibilities when they get to that point. She cannot let herself make plans for that far ahead - not when recent events have reminded her again of how easily such plans can shift out from underneath them.
She is still struggling with the fact that everything seems to have worked out too well even after she and Ty have ended their conversation and taken themselves off to bed. It is as though everything that was potentially in her way has been smoothed over before she even asks.
She can even bring Rory and Vick with her so long as she is completing her tasks in a timely manner and they stay out of the way of any visitors that might be in the house. She is not certain what to make of those instructions (she does not want her boys around people from the Capitol in any case, so she supposes that it does not really matter), but Mrs. Undersee (when she had for lack of a better term sobered up some) had seemed strangely pleased by the thought of some little boys potentially being wandering around her house.
Hazelle remembers what it was like being an only child who watched brothers and sisters make their way to and from school together and reckons she might understand the way that the little girl's eyes had sparkled when her mother told her that she would be able to play with the Hawthorne boys when she got home from school until Hazelle was ready to leave in the evenings.
Morning brings a grumbling opposition, but it is not one that will cause her to waver in her decision. Gale gives every indication of being less than pleased upon being informed that he will be responsible for walking to school with the Mayor's daughter in the mornings. Her oldest is a strange mix of relieved (and not wanting to admit that he has a reason to be relieved) and put out that he is not going to get to fill the role of helping for which he had volunteered. He so craves his father treating him as if he can be counted on to separate him from "the kids."
She tries to be understanding of such feelings - he takes his position as the oldest very seriously (and she loves how he loves his little brothers). That does not change the fact that he is still a few days shy of twelve - it would be her preference that he remain one of the kids for a little bit longer. She is making that happen as best as she can which includes her flat out refusal to allow him to stay home when she and the littles leave in the morning to get himself off to school.
Monday finds them at the back door of the largest building in the circle made up of houses that come as part of the compensation for working in a governmental position. Vick is tucked sleepily against her shoulder as Madge opens the door once again. She makes quick introductions and nearly swats her son when he responds to the girl's perfectly well-mannered "It's nice to meet you" with a half-grunted "Pretty dress" that even she isn't sure of the sincerity or sarcasm behind.
It is not the most auspicious of beginnings, but it is a beginning. She is daring to hope for better things to come.