Author Games: Panem Entangled

When In Panem | Entries 7-12

District 7 Male: Noble Spruce

Dust. So much saw dust. Noble was hacking it up like he was in the middle of a sandstorm. He reached for his handkerchief and wiped his face.

Instant regret.

Sweat and dirt smeared into his mouth, leaving a salty and bitter taste that almost made his tongue fall off. To make matters worse, specks of sawdust were stuck in his eyes, leaving him with gritty tears and a glassy vision. He coughed harder, louder as he tried to blink away the tears, and when he reached for his water, it wasn't where it was supposed to be. He swore.

"You okay down there?" Jezo called out.

Before he could reply, he heard Uncle Jezo come down the stairs. He opened his mouth to say something in reassurance, but nothing more than a wheeze came out. Jezo handed him his bottled water which had been sitting on the other side of the room, and when he took a sip, he swallowed hard.

"Thanks," Noble choked out.

Jezo sighed.

"And I suppose you lost your safety glasses, huh?"

"Yeah, at the sawmill," he replied.

Noble chugged down some more water and Uncle Jezo only shook his head. He wore the classic look of "what am I going to do with you" and Noble merely shrugged. He didn't like disappointing Jezo—in fact the reason he was down there in the first place was to put in extra work so his uncle didn't have to, but alas, he'd left his protective wear at the sawmill yet again. Lately. he'd been doing that. There'd been a lot of talk a recent runaway and he couldn't help but get distracted by it. Most of it made him uncomfortable, sometimes curious, though he often times wanted nothing more than to flee. His parents had been runaways and this "Jefferey Pines" had been the same breed of idiot his own parents were—running away a day before the reaping. No one in the district would ever make it more than a few miles and it was like one person becoming an avox wasn't enough to deter others from trying. They were idiots, really. Sitka Spruce and Holly Fir too. Though lucky for them, his uncle Jezo had been kind enough to take him in and make up for some of their sins. He'd taken in Noble, just barely an adult at the time, and been a second father to him since Noble could remember. For that he was grateful, and honestly, most of the time Jezo seemed like the last decent person in Panem. At least in Noble's opinion.

Jezo was a man in his mid-thirties who looked a lot younger than he actually was. He looked to be in his twenties with his shaved face, chiseled features, and blue eyes that had a certain flicker of youth to them. Noble couldn't really describe it, he only knew how they lit up like fireworks whenever he spoke about something he was passionate about. Like Panem propaganda. Every morning Jezo watched the Capitol news, listening to the biased politics and noting how Gamemakers talked about their ideas for new arenas and mutts. Noble didn't understand it. Most of it seemed like nothing more than white noise, but his uncle enjoyed it. He couldn't complain.

"So," Jezo started, "you should get some rest. Reaping's tomorrow."

"Mmhm."

"You nervous?"

Noble shook his head. It was his last year, he doubted he would get picked. The odds of his name being drawn was a million to one, and he'd have to be the unluckiest guy of District Seven to get selected.

"Nah," he replied. "Just trying to finish the canoe."

Jezo nodded along and picked up a piece of sandpaper, pressing it up against the naked wood of the canoe. The wood was still rough, needed a lot of sanding down, and probably wouldn't be finished for another week. Still, he began sanding it down, letting a scratching sound fill the silence between them.