【饥饿游戏】14

It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me. 
I fasten the pin onto my shirt, and with the dark green fabric 
as a background, I can almost imagine the mockingjay flying
through the trees.
Effie Trinket comes to collect me for supper. I follow her
through the narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room with
polished paneled walls. There’s a table where all the dishes
are highly breakable. Peeta Mellark sits waiting for us, the
chair next to him empty.
“Where’s Haymitch?” asks Effie Trinket brightly.
“Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap,”
says Peeta.
“Well, it’s been an exhausting day,” says Effie Trinket. I
think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can
blame her?
The supper comes in courses. A thick carrot soup, green
salad, lamb chops and mashed 2 potatoes, cheese and fruit, a
chocolate cake. Throughout the meal, Effie Trinket keeps 
reminding us to save space because there’s more to come. But
I’m stuffing myself because I’ve never had food like this, so
good and so much, and because probably the best thing I can
do between now and the Games is put on a few pounds.
“At least, you two have decent manners,” says Effie as we’re
finishing the main course. “The pair last year ate everything
with their hands like a couple of savages 3. It completely upset
my digestion 4.”
The pair last year were two kids from the Seam who’d never,
not one day of their lives, had enough to eat. And when
they did have food, table manners were surely the last thing
on their minds. Peeta’s a baker’s son. My mother taught Prim 5
and I to eat properly, so yes, I can handle a fork and knife. But
I hate Effie Trinket’s comment so much I make a point of eating
the rest of my meal with my fingers. Then I wipe my hands
on the tablecloth 6. This makes her purse her lips tightly together.
Now that the meal’s over, I’m fighting to keep the food
down. I can see Peeta’s looking a little green, too. Neither of
our stomachs is used to such rich fare. But if I can hold down
Greasy 7 Sae’s concoction 8 of mice meat, pig entrails, and tree
bark — a winter specialty 9 — I’m determined 10 to hang on to
this.
We go to another compartment 11 to watch the recap of the
reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout
the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing
live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that, since
none of them have to attend reapings themselves.
One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called,
(the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We 
examine the faces of the kids who will be our competition. 
A few stand out in my mind. A monstrous 12 boy who lunges 
forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with 
sleek 13 red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from 
District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from 
District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than 
that, she’s very like Prim in size and demeanor 14. Only when she
mounts the stage and they ask for volunteers, all you can hear
is the wind whistling through the decrepit 15 buildings around
her. There’s no one willing to take her place.
Last of all, they show District 12. Prim being called, me
running forward to volunteer. You can’t miss the desperation
in my voice as I shove Prim behind me, as if I’m afraid no one
will hear and they’ll take Prim away. But, of course, they do
hear. I see Gale 16 pulling her off me and watch myself mount the
stage. The commentators 17 are not sure what to say about the
crowd’s refusal to applaud. The silent salute 18. One says that
District 12 has always been a bit backward but that local 
customs can be charming. As if on cue, Haymitch falls off the
stage, and they groan 19 comically. Peeta’s name is drawn 20, and he
quietly takes his place. We shake hands. They cut to the anthem 21
again, and the pro-gram ends.
Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig 22 was in.
“Your mentor 23 has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about
televised behavior.”
Peeta unexpectedly laughs. “He was drunk,” says Peeta.
“He’s drunk every year.”
“Every day,” I add. I can’t help smirking 24 a little. Effie Trinket
makes it sound like Haymitch just has somewhat rough manners
that could be corrected with a few tips from her.
“Yes,” hisses 25 Effie Trinket. “How odd you two find it amusing.
You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in
these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors,
and dictates 26 the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can
well be the difference between your life and your death!”
Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. “I miss
supper?” he says in a slurred 27 voice. Then he vomits 29 all over
the expensive carpet and falls in the mess.
“So laugh away!” says Effie Trinket. She hops 1 in her pointy
shoes around the pool of vomit 28 and flees the room.