【饥饿游戏】03
时间：2017-03-15 05:38:28
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（单词翻译）
“Forget it,” he snaps back.
The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave
Prim1, who is the only person in the world I’m certain I love?
And
Gale2 is
devoted3 to his family. We can’t leave, so why bother
talking about it? And even if we did . . . even if we did . . .
where did this stuff about having kids come from? There’s
never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we
met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only
two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long
time for us to even become friends, to stop
haggling4 over
every trade and begin
helping5 each other out.
Besides, if he wants kids, Gale won’t have any trouble finding
a wife. He’s good-looking, he’s strong enough to handle the
work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way
the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that
they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason
people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.
“What do you want to do?” I ask. We can hunt, fish, or gather.
“Let’s fish at the lake. We can leave our poles and gather in
the woods. Get something nice for tonight,” he says.
Tonight. After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate.
And a lot of people do, out of relief that their children
have been spared for another year. But at least two families
will pull their
shutters6, lock their doors, and try to figure out
how they will survive the painful weeks to come.
We make out well. The
predators7 ignore us on a day when
fish, a bag of greens and, best of all, a gallon of strawberries. I
found the patch a few years ago, but Gale had the idea to
string
mesh10 nets around it to keep out the animals.
On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market
that operates in an abandoned
warehouse11 that once held coal.
When they came up with a more efficient system that transported
the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob
gradually took over the space. Most businesses are closed by
this time on reaping day, but the black market’s still fairly
busy. We easily trade six of the fish for good bread, the other
two for salt.
Greasy12 Sae, the bony old woman who sells bowls
of hot soup from a large kettle, takes half the greens off our
hands in exchange for a couple of
chunks13 of paraffin. We
might do a tad better elsewhere, but we make an effort to
keep on good terms with Greasy Sae. She’s the only one who
can consistently be counted on to buy wild dog. We don’t hunt
them on purpose, but if you’re attacked and you take out a dog
or two, well, meat is meat. “Once it’s in the soup, I’ll call it
beef,” Greasy Sae says with a
wink14. No one in the Seam would
turn up their nose at a good leg of wild dog, but the Peacekeepers
who come to the Hob can afford to be a little choosier.
When we finish our business at the market, we go to the
back door of the mayor’s house to sell half the strawberries,
knowing he has a particular fondness for them and can afford
our price. The mayor’s daughter, Madge, opens the door. She’s
in my year at school. Being the mayor’s daughter, you’d expect
her to be a
snob15, but she’s all right. She just keeps to herself.
Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we
seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting
next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities.
We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine.
Today her drab school
outfit16 has been replaced by an expensive
white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a
pink ribbon. Reaping clothes.
“Pretty dress,” says Gale.
Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it’s a genuine
compliment or if he’s just being
ironic17. It is a pretty dress, but
she would never be wearing it ordinarily. She presses her lips
together and then smiles. “Well, if I end up going to the Capitol,
I want to look nice, don’t I?”
Now it’s Gale’s turn to be confused. Does she mean it? Or is
she messing with him? I’m guessing the second.
“You won’t be going to the Capitol,” says Gale coolly. His
eyes land on a small, circular pin that
adorns18 her dress. Real
gold. Beautifully crafted. It could keep a family in bread for
months. “What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I
was just twelve years old.”
“That’s not her fault,” I say.
“No, it’s no one’s fault. Just the way it is,” says Gale. Madge’s
face has become closed off. She puts the money for the berries
in my hand. “Good luck, Katniss.” “You, too,” I say, and the
door closes.
We walk toward the Seam in silence. I don’t like that Gale
took a dig at Madge, but he’s right, of course. The reaping system
is unfair, with the poor getting the worst of it. You become
eligible19 for the reaping the day you turn twelve. That
year, your name is entered once. At thirteen, twice. And so on
and so on until you reach the age of eighteen, the final year of
That’s true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire
country of Panem.
But here’s the catch. Say you are poor and starving as we
were. You can
opt21 to add your name more times in exchange
for tesserae. Each tessera is worth a
meager22 year’s supply of
grain and oil for one person. You may do this for each of your
family members as well. So, at the age of twelve, I had my
name entered four times. Once, because I had to, and three
times for tesserae for grain and oil for myself, Prim, and my
mother. In fact, every year I have needed to do this. And the
entries are
cumulative23. So now, at the age of sixteen, my name
will be in the reaping twenty times.
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