Chapter Text
~Jacob Mellark~
The icy wind chills my bones but I trudge through the dark grey slush that covers the street. The tattered blanket I took from the wooden crate he was sleeping on is wrapped around him tightly, but his tiny body still shivers from the cold air. I unbutton my coat and wrap him inside pressing him gently to my chest hoping my own body heat will be enough to keep him warm until I can get him home.
With his blonde curls fluttering in the wind and deep blue eyes that resemble my own, he stares at me in confusion. He doesn’t know who I am. A stranger that came and took him from that horrible place.
“It’s alright Peeta, I’m your daddy.” He sucks his thumb and buries his head inside my coat not uttering a sound of discontent nor whimper.
As was his mother, my son is silent.
“Are you sure you can convince your wife to accept him into your little family Mr Mellark?” A voice snaps me back from my thoughts. I almost forgot about the newly appointed caretaker who insisted on coming with me today.
“I’ll convince her.” I must.
As we reach the Merchant side of District 12, I hold onto Peeta tightly and walk as quickly as I can without being noticed. I don’t want Peeta exposed to the prejudices that still exists within our district. To her credit, the caretaker keeps up with my hurried stride and when we finally reach the bakery, a relieved sigh escapes us both.
The bakery closed an hour ago and Agnes would have collected Ryan from school and is most likely helping him with his homework upstairs. So, we walk around the back of the bakery and enter through the kitchen. There’s still enough heat from the ovens to warm the chill from our bones so we make sure to stand directly in front of them to absorb as much heat as we can.
Noticing today’s left-over lunch still on the stove, I turn on the hotplate and when the pot begins to simmer, ladle some of the broth in two bowls. Handing a warmed bowl over to a grateful caretaker, I begin to spoon feed some from the other bowl to Peeta. As I watch him take small mouthfuls of the warmed liquid, my mind wonders. How long has it been since your last hot meal?
It’s not long before I hear the unmistakable footsteps coming down from the stairs. Agnes walks into the kitchen and looks directly at the small bundle in my arms.
“I thought I made it clear not to bring it into my house…and now your feeding it our food!”
The young caretaker lowers her bowl, placing it on the bench and gestures with her hands to take Peeta from me. She knows this should be a private conversation between my wife and I and doesn’t want Peeta any more frightened than he already is. But he turns his head away burying it deep into my neck shaking, but not from the cold.
“He has a name Agnes. It’s Peeta.” I say in retort to her venomous tongue.
“I don’t care what your whore named her brat, you get him out of my house this instant Jacob Mellark!”
For too long I have kept quiet. The dutiful son and husband who always did what was best for everyone…except for himself. But my conscious won’t allow me to back into a corner, not this time. Not if it means leaving my innocent son at the mercy of the cruel circumstances in which he was born.
“You are forgetting this is my house too and I worked hard to rebuild it and the bakery from scratch to provide for you and Ryan.”
I shuffle Peeta in my arms gently and he burrows closer knowing instinctively to fear this hateful woman. It strengthens my resolve.
“For God sake, he’s my son! He should never have been in the Community Home to begin with. I won’t take him back there…I-I won’t!”
Images of that place flash in my mind. Walking through those dark halls in my desperate search for Peeta. The hollow faces of those children, forgotten casualties of the war, will haunt me for the rest of my days. So many of them were left orphaned or abandoned after we were liberated from President Snow’s tyrannical empire, but freedom always comes at a price.
At my outburst, Agnes turns red with fury. “Ryan is your son! That is your bastard!”
The way she directs that word towards Peeta has me seething with so much contempt towards her that I fear my emotions will spill out and I’ll say things I should have said to her years ago. But Peeta isn’t the only innocent victim here, I have Ryan’s welfare to consider too.
“No! I kept my end of the bargain and stayed away from Flora and I have to live with that regret.” I couldn’t give Flora my name but Peeta is my son and I won’t turn my back on him again. “I don’t care what you or the other gossipers say. He is staying right here.”
Her face darkens with anger. “You didn’t even hide that fact that you were sneaking behind my back to be with that woman! And now you think because she’s dead that I will allow you to bring your mistake to live with us! Well, you figured wrong! Like I told the old woman, the Community Home is the best place for him. He’s damaged just like his mother was.”
“You knew all this time…you knew where he was, and you said nothing!” At the harsh tone of my voice, Peeta shudders in my arms and I instinctively rub his back to calm him.
Agnes is silent, her mouth stays tight-lipped, but I can see her guilt through that stone-face.
“Maybe I should come back in the morning when you and Mrs Mellark have come to an agreement.” The caretaker utters as she shifts uncomfortably on the stool. She’s been regrettably caught in the middle of our argument, but her suggestion to leave does nothing to deter Agnes.
“Yes, I knew! That whore’s mother had the audacity to come to the bakery begging me to take in that brat. There was no way I wanted a germ-infected defect in my home. I have Ryan’s health to think of. The Community Home is the best place for a worthless child like him.”
I hold myself back, if not for Peeta in my arms I don’t know what I would do to Agnes right now. Her threatening words from long ago creep into my mind.
“You are such a fool Jacob. You think I didn’t know about you and that woman. Maybe I should have a little chat with the Head Peacekeeper and tell him that she’s been selling herself and the father of her child is one of the peacekeepers she regularly services. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t take too kindly to prostitution. She’ll be taken into custody and shipped straight to The Clinic before spending time in prison. Maybe that will help you remember where your responsibility lies.”
Knowing Agnes would make good on her threat, I didn’t dare call her bluff. For the sake of Flora and my unborn child, I kept my distance. Even when Peeta was born, he was 3 months old before I got to hold him. I still remember how anxious I was at our first chance meeting. Flora became weakened after giving birth and she never fully recovered. It was my friend Lydia Everdeen, the town healer, who brought him to me when Agnes took Ryan to the playground.
Lydia had only just given birth a few weeks back and snuck him in the same baby carriage as her newborn daughter. A dark-haired gem who slept peacefully alongside my son. The feeling of finally holding him for the first time and seeing a version of myself looking back at me is something I will always hold dear.
“He can hear Jacob. Talk to him. Let him hear the sound of your voice.”
The tears begin to well in my eyes as I look down at my boy and tell him I much I love him and his mother and wished that I could have been there when he was born. Knowing this precious time with him is almost at an end, I tell him how I wished I could freeze this moment.
Lydia reaches into the baby carriage and brings out a folded sheet of paper and hands it to me. It’s a legal document bearing the new insignia of our government. A golden Mockingjay holding an arrow in its beak was the symbol of the revolution and it serves as a stark reminder of the sacrifices so many made for our freedom.
“I’ve put it off as long as I could, but his birth needs to be properly registered. I’ve completed Flora’s details as birth mother, but I wanted to give you the choice to complete the rest. He needs a name.”
Carefully handing my son into Lydia’s arms, I see the two questions left blank.
“The Mellark men have a tradition that dates back when it comes to the naming our sons. Our middle name is that of our father.” I tell her, grabbing a pen from my pocket.
Infant’s name: Peeta Jacob Mellark
Father’s name: Jacob Samuel Mellark
Lydia smiles as she reads what I have named my son before folding the paper and tucking it back into the baby carriage.
“We should go before your wife returns. I’ll go to the Justice Building in the morning and register Peeta’s birth.”
Before she left, I placed a heart-shaped cookie in a small brown paper bag and handed it to her.
“Will you give this to Flora? She’ll know what it means.”
After that day, rare trips to the market were the only times I could steal a fleeting glance at both Flora and Peeta. The moment Flora saw me, she would smile sweetly then discreetly raise our son higher over her shoulder, so I could see his face. He was growing so fast. Flora was noticeably pale and thinner with each passing week, but she was still the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.
When the sickness came to our district a year later, it spread so fast that we were all placed under strict quarantine until the crisis was over. The vaccines finally arrived from the Capitol but were too late to help Flora. My mourning for the only woman I have ever loved was done in private. There were no funerals. The dead were cremated, and their ashes buried in mass pits to stop the spread of infection.
After receiving word of Flora’s death, I risked everything and went to her house to claim Peeta, but I failed him too. Her mother told me he had succumbed to the same illness. My whole world died with them.
But that all changed this morning when Lydia came rushing into the bakery, trying to catch her breath in between her frantic words.
“Flora’s mother…dead...early this morning.” Lydia took a few deep breaths then continued. “Wanted to clear her conscious before she died. She kept him, but the Community Home caretaker stepped in when she heard the old woman could no longer care for Peeta. I had to be sure first, but I found him Jacob! Peeta…he’s alive!”
There was no need for further explanation. Agnes began yelling in the background, but I paid her no mind as I frantically rushed out of the bakery only remembering at the last minute to grab my coat from the hook by the door. I hadn’t even bothered to remove my flour-dusted apron as I followed Lydia to the path that led to the Community Home.
My eyes refocus on Agnes as she eyes us menacingly, continuing her tirade.
“Have you once thought about Ryan in all this? How are you going to explain to him when he gets older that you had an affair with the town mute? That you fathered a bastard with her? All this because you couldn’t keep it in your pants! I doubt he is even yours.”
“I have always thought about Ryan and you can say whatever you like about me but don’t talk about Flora that way! She wasn’t like that and you know it. You only have to look at Peeta to know he’s mine.”
Agnes and I haven’t been intimate…not in a long time. Not since the day she told me she was pregnant with Ryan. I should have known, been more careful. Our marriage was anything but real and that’s when I finally saw it for the trap it truly was.
The realisation drove me out into the streets, wandering, lost. That was the day I met Flora and felt my heart flutter for the first time. On that rainy day, I knew there would be no turning back.
“All women from the Seam are like that. Nothing’s changed. You were so blind-sided by a pretty face and perky breasts that you couldn’t see what a laughing stock you were. Your mother would be turning in her grave. I did you a favour.” She says matter-of-factly.
“No Agnes. We both know you did it for your own selfish reasons!”
There’s a cold silence in the room before I hear the caretaker speak again. And for the second time today, I had forgotten her presence.
“Mrs Mellark, are you aware the Capitol has introduced a monthly stipend to families willing to adopt and care for an orphan? Even though Mr Mellark is Peeta’s natural father, you would still be entitled to make a claim.”
News of this piques Agnes’s interest and she becomes deep in thought. “How much of a stipend are we talking about?”
“10 coins a month!” I practically shout.
I look to the caretaker with pleading eyes and hope she doesn’t give me away. She told me about the new Government’s ‘Adopt an Orphan’ scheme for those unfortunate children left in the system and how much eligible couples would receive, but I have good reason why I don’t want Agnes to get a hold of all the money.
I failed Flora in every way possible, but I intend to honour her memory and do all I can for our son. The payments will stop as soon as Peeta turns 18 and who knows what Agnes will do when the money dries up. I need to secure a future for him should anything happen to me and a small savings set aside is a start.
“The Capitol will pay 10 coins a month directly to you. I can make all the arrangements once the Justice Building opens for business in the morning. I have associates who will expedite your claim and forego the usual red-tape.” The caretaker informs us with a straight face and I am thankful to her for keeping up with my charade.
“Well, that’s hardly enough to feed the brat let alone clothe him but I’m not an unreasonable woman. How soon will I receive the first payment?” She asks, a calculating look in her eyes.
Agnes agrees to adopting Peeta and leaves to prepare his bed in the attic. After claiming that having a mute sharing the same room as Ryan will have an adverse effect on his early developmental years, I simply had no desire to argue the point, happy that I’ve been able to persuade her to accept my son into our home…with the added help of a few coins.
In all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed that Peeta had fallen asleep in my arms. He could do with a bath and have some clean clothes that I’m sure Agnes has kept from when Ryan was about his age, but I haven’t the heart to wake him.
As I walk the caretaker out the door and into the street, I thank her for everything she has done today.
“I can only imagine what you must think of me, but I have good reason why my wife must never know how much of a stipend we are entitled to. I need to do this for my son.”
“You needn’t worry Mr Mellark, your secret is safe with me. I have friends in the Capitol that will take care of all the arrangements. Dividing the stipend equally between two parties is not an unusual request and they will make sure no one is able to trace who or where the other half goes to.” She assures before looking off towards the Community Home with a sigh.
“A lot has happened since the war and there are many people like me wanting to make a change for the better. I specifically requested to be assigned to District 12 because it was the worst affected of all the districts. I’m hoping that my time here will make a difference to these children, but I realised soon after arriving here that so much needs to be done.”
I see the sincerity of the young caretaker’s words and make plans to help her make that difference.
“Despite everything you heard today, there are many good people in the District who would be willing to help you. I will start by donating the daily goods that are left unsold to the home. Those children will not go hungry another day. I’ll spread the word around.”
She smiles and thanks me before starting her trek back to the Home.
“Wait. I’m sorry but I never asked your name.” I call to her.
“Trinket…Effie Trinket.”
******