Coriolanus gave his head a shake and tried to focus. If this was Lucy Gray’s song, he wanted to pay careful attention so he could say something nice about it tomorrow.
Maude Ivory nodded to Lucy Gray for her intro and began to sing in a solemn voice:
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt where none abide,
— The sweetest thing that ever grew
Upon the mountainside!
Okay, so there was a little girl who lived on a mountain. And apparently had trouble making friends.
You yet may spy the fawn at play
The hare among the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
And she died. How? He had a feeling he was about to find out.
“To-night will be a stormy night —
You to the town must go;
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your mother through the snow.”
“That, Father! Will I gladly do:
’Tis scarcely afternoon —
The village clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon!”
At this the Father turned his hook,
To kindling for the day;
He plied his work; — and Lucy took
The lantern on her way.
As carefree as a mountain doe:
A fresh, new path she broke
Her feet dispersed the powdery snow,
That rose up just like smoke.
The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb:
But never reached the town.
Ah. Lots of nonsense words, but she got lost in the snow. Well, no wonder, if they sent her out into a snowstorm. And then she probably froze to death.
The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them as a guide.
At daybreak on a hill they stood
That overlooked the scene;
And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
That spanned a deep ravine.
They wept — and, turning homeward, cried,
“In heaven we all shall meet”;
— When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy’s feet.
Oh, good. They found her footprints. Happy ending. It was one of those silly things, like that song Lucy Gray sung about a man they thought had frozen to death. They tried to cremate him in an oven, but he only thawed out and was fine. Sam Somebody.
Then downwards from the steep hill’s edge
They tracked the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn hedge,
And by the long stone-wall;
And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, not ever lost;
And to the bridge they came.
They followed from the snowy bank
Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none!
Wait? What? She vanished into thin air?
— Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child;
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild.
O’er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.
Oh, a ghost story. Ugh. Boo. So ridiculous. Well, he’d try hard to love it when he saw the Covey tomorrow. But, really, who named their child after a ghost girl? Although, if the girl was a ghost, where was her body? Maybe she got tired of her negligent parents sending her into blizzards and ran off to live in the wild. But then, why didn’t she grow up? He couldn’t make sense of it, and the white liquor wasn’t helping. It reminded him of the time he hadn’t understood the poem in rhetoric class and Livia Cardew had humiliated him in front of everyone. What a dreadful song. Maybe no one would mention it. . . . No, they would. Maude Ivory would expect a response. So he’d say it was brilliant and leave it at that. What if she wanted to talk about it?
Coriolanus decided to put it to Sejanus, who’d always been good at rhetoric, just to see if he had any thoughts.
But when he leaned across Bug, he found Sejanus’s crate was empty.
CHAPTER 27
Coriolanus scanned the area, trying to hide his growing anxiety. Where was Sejanus? Adrenaline fought with the white liquor for control of his brain. He’d been so steeped in music and alcohol that he really didn’t know when Sejanus had disappeared. What if he hadn’t had a change of heart about Lil? Was he out there in the crowd, conspiring with the rebels at this very moment?
He waited for the audience to finish applauding Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray before he rose to his feet. Just as he began to make his way to the door, he saw Sejanus returning in the hazy light.
“Where’ve you been?” Coriolanus asked.
“Outside. That white liquor runs right through me.” Sejanus sat on his crate and turned his attention to the stage.
Coriolanus resumed his seat as well, his eyes on the entertainment, his thoughts anywhere but. White liquor didn’t run through anyone. It was too strong, the amount consumed too small. Another lie. What did that mean? That he couldn’t let Sejanus out of his sight for one second now? Throughout the rest of the show, he kept shooting sideways glances at him to make sure he didn’t sneak off again. He stayed close after Maude Ivory collected money in her beribboned basket, but Sejanus seemed focused on helping Bug steer a drunken Beanpole back to the base. No opportunity presented itself for further discussion. If, in fact, Sejanus had slipped away to plot with the rebels, Coriolanus’s directly confronting him after the Billy Taupe incident had obviously failed. A new strategy was clearly called for.
Sunday dawned too brightly for Coriolanus’s throbbing head. He threw up the white liquor and stood in the shower until his eyes focused properly again. The greasy eggs at the mess hall were unthinkable, so he nibbled on his toast while Sejanus finished both of their helpings, only confirming Coriolanus’s suspicions that he’d consumed next to no alcohol the night before, certainly not enough to have it run through him. Their three bunkmates had not even managed to get up for breakfast. Until he thought of a better approach, he’d have to watch him like a hawk, especially when they left the base. Today, anyway, he’d need a companion to go to the lake.
Although Coriolanus’s own enthusiasm had waned, Sejanus cheerfully accepted the invitation. “Sure, it sounds like a holiday. Let’s take some ice!” While Sejanus talked Cookie out of another plastic bag, Coriolanus went to the clinic for an aspirin. They met up at the guardhouse and then set out.
Not knowing a shortcut to the Seam, they returned to the town square and retraced their steps from the previous week. Coriolanus considered attempting another heart-to-heart with Sejanus, but if the threat of being found guilty of treason didn’t move him, what would? And he didn’t know for sure that he’d been conspiring with the rebels. Maybe he really had just needed to take a piss last night, in which case accusing him would only make him defensive. The only real evidence he had was the hidden money, and maybe Strabo had insisted he take it but Sejanus was determined never to use it. He didn’t value money, and munitions money was probably burdensome to him. It might be a point of honor with him, to make it on his own.
If Lucy Gray was still upset about their tiff, she didn’t show it. She greeted him at the back door with a kiss and a glass of cold water to tide him over until they reached the lake. “It’s two to three hours, depending on the briars, but it’s worth it.”
For once, the Covey left their instruments behind. Barb Azure stayed at home, too, to keep an eye on things. She sent them off with a bucket containing a jug of water, a loaf of bread, and an old blanket.
“She just started seeing a gal down the road,” confided Lucy Gray when they were out of earshot of the house. “Probably glad to have the place to themselves for the day.”
Tam Amber led the rest of them across the Meadow and into the woods. Clerk Carmine, Maude Ivory, and Sejanus formed a line behind him, leaving Lucy Gray and Coriolanus to bring up the rear. There was no path. They followed single file, stepping over fallen trees, pushing aside branches, trying to skirt the prickly bushes that popped up in the undergrowth. Within ten minutes, nothing remained of District 12 but the acrid smell from the mines. Within twenty, even that had been cloaked by vegetation. The canopy of trees provided shade from the sun but little respite from the heat. The hum of insects, chatter of squirrels, and birdsong filled the air, undisturbed by their presence.
Even with two days of bird duty under his belt, Coriolanus felt increasingly wary the farther away they got from what passed for civilization out here. He wondered what other creatures — larger, more powerful, and fanged — might be lurking in the trees. He had no weapon of any kind. After that realization, he pretended to need a walking stick and stopped a moment to strip a sturdy fallen branch of its excess limbs.
“How does he know the way?” he asked Lucy Gray, nodding ahead to Tam Amber.
“We all know the way,” she said. “It’s our second home.”
As no one else acted concerned, he trooped along for what seemed like an eternity, happy when Tam Amber pulled the group up. But he only said, “About halfway.” They passed around the bag of ice, drinking what had melted and sucking on the remaining cubes.
Maude Ivory complained of a pain in her foot and pulled off her cracked, brown shoe to show a good-sized blister. “These shoes don’t walk right.”
“They’re an old pair of Clerk Carmine’s. We’re trying to make them last the summer,” said Lucy Gray, examining the little foot with a frown.
“They’re too tight,” said Maude Ivory. “I want herring boxes like in the song.”
Sejanus crouched, offering her his back. “How about a ride instead?”
Maude Ivory scampered aboard. “Watch out for my head!”
Once the precedent was set, they took turns carrying the little girl. No longer needing to exert herself, she used her lungs for singing.
In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine,
Dwelt a miner, forty-niner
And his daughter, Clementine.
Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine.
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
To Coriolanus’s dismay, a mockingjay chorus picked up the melody from high in the branches. He’d not expected them to be out this far — the things were positively infesting the woods. But Maude Ivory was delighted and kept the racket going. Coriolanus carried her the final leg and distracted her by thanking her for the Lucy Gray song the night before.
“What’d you make of it?” she asked.
He dodged the question. “I liked it very much. You were fantastic.”
“Thanks, but I meant the song. Do you think people really see Lucy Gray, or they’re just dreaming her?” she said. “Because I think they really see her. Only now, she flies like a bird.”
“Does she?” Coriolanus felt better that the cryptic song was at least subject to debate, and he wasn’t too dim to grasp the one erudite interpretation.
“Well, how else can she not make footprints?” she said. “I think she flies around and tries not to meet people, because they’d kill her because she’s different.”
“Yeah, she’s different. She’s a ghost, bonehead,” said Clerk Carmine. “Ghosts don’t leave footprints, because they’re like air.”
“Then where’s her body?” asked Coriolanus, feeling that at least Maude Ivory’s version made some sense.
“She fell off the bridge and died, only it’s so far down, no one could see her. Or maybe there was a river and it washed her away,” said Clerk Carmine. “Anyway, she’s dead and she’s haunting the place. How can she fly without wings?”
“She didn’t fall off the bridge! The snow would look different where she was standing!” Maude Ivory insisted. “Lucy Gray, which is it?”
“It’s a mystery, sweetheart. Just like me. That’s why it’s my song,” Lucy Gray answered.
By the time they arrived at the lake, Coriolanus was panting and parched, and his rash burned from his sweat. When the Covey stripped down to their undergarments and plunged into the water, he lost no time in following suit. He waded out, and the cold water embraced him, clearing the cobwebs from his head and soothing his rash. He swam well, having been taught from an early age in school, but had never tried it anywhere but a pool. The muddy lake floor dropped off quickly, and he had a sense of deep water. He cruised out to the middle of the lake and floated on his back, taking in the scenery. The woods rose up all around, and although there seemed to be no access road, small, broken houses dotted the banks. Most were beyond repair, but a solid-looking concrete structure still had a roof, and a door shut tight against the wild. A family of ducks swam by a few feet away, and he could spot fish down below his toes. Concern over what else might be swimming around him prompted him to head back to shore, where the Covey had already pulled Sejanus into some kind of keep-away game, using a large pinecone for the ball. Coriolanus joined in, glad to be doing something just for fun. The strain of being a full-fledged adult every day had grown tiresome.
After a brief rest, Tam Amber made a couple of fishing poles, trimming down tree branches and attaching thread and homemade hooks. While Clerk Carmine dug for worms, Maude Ivory enlisted Sejanus to pick berries.
“Stay away from that patch near the rocks,” warned Lucy Gray. “Snakes like it there.”
“She always knows where they’ll be,” Maude Ivory told Sejanus as she led him away. “She catches them in her hands, but they scare me.”
That left Coriolanus with Lucy Gray to collect dry wood for a fire. It all excited him a little, the swimming half-naked among wild creatures, the building of the fire in the open air, the unorchestrated time with Lucy Gray. She had a box of matches, but they were dear and she said she had to make do with just one. When the flame caught in a pile of dry leaves, he sat close to her on the ground as they fed it first the twigs, then larger scraps of wood, feeling happier to be alive than he had in weeks.
Lucy Gray leaned into his shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry if I upset you last night. I wasn’t laying my daddy’s death on you. We were both just kids when that happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry if I overreacted. It’s just, I can’t pretend I’m someone I’m not. I don’t agree with everything the Capitol does, but I am Capitol, and on the whole I think we’re right about needing order,” said Coriolanus.
“The Covey believe you’re put on earth to reduce the misery, not add to it. Do you think the Hunger Games are right?” she asked.
“I’m not even sure why we do them, to be honest. But I do think people are forgetting the war too fast. What we did to each other. What we’re capable of. Districts and Capitol both. I know the Capitol must seem hard-line out here, but we’re just trying to keep things under control. Otherwise, there’d be chaos and people running around killing each other, like in the arena.” This was the first time he’d tried to put these thoughts into words with anyone other than Dr. Gaul. He felt a little unsteady, like a toddler learning to walk, but he felt the independence of getting on his feet as well.
Lucy Gray drew back a bit. “That’s what you think people would do?”
“I do. Unless there’s law, and someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,” he said with more assurance. “Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.”
“Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?” she asked.
Coriolanus poked at the fire with a stick. “Give up? Why, nothing.”
“The Covey did,” she said. “Can’t travel. Can’t perform without their say-so. Can only sing certain types of songs. Fight getting round up, and you get shot dead like my daddy. Try to keep your family together, and you get your head broken like my mama. What if I think that price is too high to pay? Maybe my freedom’s worth the risk.”
“So, your family were rebels after all.” Coriolanus wasn’t really surprised.
“My family were Covey, first and last,” Lucy Gray asserted. “Not district, not Capitol, not rebel, not Peacekeeper, just us. And you’re like us. You want to think for yourself. You push back. I know because of what you did for me in the Games.”
Well, she had him there. If the Hunger Games were thought necessary by the Capitol, and if he had tried to thwart them, had he not refuted the Capitol’s authority? Pushed back, as she said? Not like Sejanus, in outright defiance. But in a quieter, subtler way of his own? “Here’s what I believe. If the Capitol wasn’t in charge, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, because we’d have destroyed ourselves by now.”
“People have been around a long time without the Capitol. I expect they’ll be here a long time after,” she concluded.
Coriolanus thought of the dead cities he’d passed on the journey to District 12. She claimed the Covey had traveled, so she must have seen them as well. “Not many of them. Panem used to be magnificent. Look at it now.”
Clerk Carmine brought Lucy Gray a plant he’d uprooted from the lake, with pointy leaves and small white flowers. “Hey, you found some katniss. Good work, CC.” Coriolanus wondered if he meant it to be decorative, like the Grandma’am’s roses, but she immediately examined the roots, from which small tubers hung. “Little too early yet.”
“Yeah,” Clerk Carmine agreed.
“For what?” asked Coriolanus.
“For eating. In a few weeks, these will grow into decent-sized potatoes, and we can roast them,” said Lucy Gray. “Some people call them swamp potatoes, but I like katniss better. Has a nice ring to it.”
Tam Amber appeared with several fish that he cleaned, gutted, and cut up into pieces. He wrapped the fish in leaves and sprigs of some kind of herb he’d picked, and Lucy Gray arranged them in the embers of the fire. By the time Maude Ivory and Sejanus arrived with their bucket loaded with blackberries, the fish were cooked through. With the hike and the swimming, Coriolanus’s appetite had returned. He ate every morsel of his share of the fish, bread, and berries. Then Sejanus brought out a surprise — a half dozen of Ma’s sugar cookies he’d saved as his share of the box.