The Calling, Part V: Yours and Mine

 Setting: Before Chapter 1

The phones were ringing off the hook, faster than the young man and his younger secretary could take them off of the receiver. 

 

“Hello? Yes. Please hold.” It was just a mantra that he mumbled every time he heard that awful, terrible sound of the phone ringing. And the voice of the secretary. 

 

“Yes, I’m sorry, Mayor Taylor is very busy. Please hold,” the young lady said, over and over again before the phone went back into the receiver for a moment, only to start ringing again. 

 

“Busy day,” Jeremiah commented with a small laugh, and the young lady gave a tired smile before the phone rang again and she picked it up quickly. “Yes. One moment.” 

 

Finally, he picked up the phone, knowing that he couldn’t leave them all on hold forever. “Hello there, who am I speaking to?” 

 

“Oh, good afternoon Mayor Taylor, this is Priya Marion with the Daily Townsman, do you have a few moments for an interview?” 

 

“I’m having a very busy day, can I please reschedule-” 

 

“Can you please explain your comments at yesterday’s Council meeting, Mayor Taylor?” the voice cut him off and he closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly. 

 

“No comment, good day.” He clicked the phone and then picked it up once more. “Yes, hello?” 

 

“Mr. Mayor, is it true that you could incite a rebellion and end the Hunger Games?” 

 

“No,” he said quickly. “I would never do that, I would hate to see more of District Nine’s good people hurt.” 

 

“Have you heard back from the President regarding the request for feminine hygiene supplies?” 

 

“He didn’t give a clear answer -” he said, and was cut off. 

 

“Do you think he ever will? What will you do if your people are denied these commodities!?” 

 

“I-I-,” he stammered. “I don’t know, but I-I don’t think that it will come to that.” He wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead. “We’re working on it, we will get our District the necessary supplies for a comfortable livelihood. Please send other inquiries to my P.O. box, thank you.” He slammed the phone down, his hand gripping it so tightly his knuckles were going white as he wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead.  

 

They were starting to realize how helpless he was. 

 

He was starting to realize how helpless he was. He really didn’t think it would be such a big deal to request more shipments of pads, tampons, anything, be delivered to the District. He grabbed his hair and pulled on it for a few seconds as the stress closed in on him. 

 

“Excuse me, Mayor Taylor?” Jolene asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. But her soft touch was soon replaced by the grating sound of the phone ringing once again, which she went to quickly pick up. “Hello? Yes. Please hold.” She put the phone down again and rubbed her face a little bit. “Do you want me to take some for you?” 

 

Jeremiah just sighed a little bit and pulled on his hair a little more with an audible groan. He could do this. He always got top marks in school, everyone always said how he was destined for greatness. He could do this. He could do anything. He just had to focus in and roll up his sleeves. The Taylor name was a well-regarded one in his District and he wasn’t going to let anything change that. He couldn’t disappoint his parents after they put so much time, effort, and so many resources into getting him to this point. 

 

But something about this position just… Wasn’t right. He thought that becoming the mayor would be a good thing for the people, for the District. He didn’t realize how little jurisdiction he would actually have, and how much blame he would receive for it. He was trying to help them. He was trying to express his concerns about tomorrow’s reaping. He just wanted to be sure that it was fair, give their starving, poor District a chance for another Victor. The longer they went without one, the less and less their chance of getting one became. Why didn’t the President and his Council seem to understand that?! And… Even worse… How did not even seem to care? 

 

That was all he ever did, was care. About this District, these people, and their industry. He himself grew up overseeing his family’s expansive homestead. And this was how he was repaid. 

 

He barely picked up the next call before the questions started again. “How will your outburst at the Council meeting affect our trans-District relationships? Can we expect to see supply shortages in the coming weeks? What action will you take if an embargo is imposed due to your actions?!” 

 

All of these, questions he didn’t have an answer to. He was always the man with the answers, that anyone could go to. The problem solver. That was all he ever wanted to do, and now… He was feeling so fucking lost. 

 

He hung up the phone again and held his temples for a second, letting out a quiet sigh as his eyes went to the clock on the wall, and then suddenly widened. “Oh, it’s your lunch time!” he said, turning towards her. 

 

“Oh, it’s alright,” she said quickly, putting up her hand to stop him from speaking. “I don’t mind.” She picked up the phone and started speaking before he could protest. “We are experiencing a high volume of calls right now, please call again tomorrow.” She hung up and pressed the line 2 button, giving the same spiel. Meanwhile, Jeremiah slowly sunk to the floor, offered some protection from others by his desk, and grabbing his hair. Get it together, Jeremiah. Think. Think, dammit!

 

But he was so confused and directionless, with no guidance whatsoever for how to help his people, or even himself. He couldn’t take this anymore… He just wanted to go home to Joshua and Olivia. His little family. Well, if you would call a boyfriend and his daughter from a previous relationship a family. But Jeremiah really would. 

 

Jolene hung up the phone for the last call and as soon as it was hung up, she released a heavy sigh. “Good-ness. They just wouldn’t stop.” 

 

Jeremiah just sighed softly when he saw the concerned brown eyes peering down at him through blonde hair. “Thank you for doing that,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head. “I never thought speaking out like that would have such a ripple effect.” 

 

 “Well, you handled it all very well,” she said with a small smile. “You gonna be okay?” 

 

“Yeah,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut a few times before he put that easy smile back on his face and stood back up. “Thank you very much, little lady. Take an extra half an hour, go home for lunch.” 

 

“Are… Are you sure?” she asked, her mouth gaping a little bit. “Sir, I-I-” 

 

He just smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re very hard-working Jolene and I’m going to miss you when you go to college next year. And so will your parents, so you might as well spend as much time with them as you can.” He got out his personal wallet from his satchel and pulled some bills out of it, passing it to her. “Stop by the market on your way back, get the whole family something nice. On me.” 

 

She pushed the glasses up her nose. “Th…Thank you,” she said quickly, slowly backing out of the room with wide eyes as she looked at him with that deer-in-headlights expression. But when he just smiled and nodded at her to go, she quickly turned around and ran the rest of the way out the door. 

 

Jeremiah heavily flopped onto his desk chair, putting his head down on the cool smooth wooden surface and hitting it gently on it a few times. What was he going to do? He just didn’t fucking know. 

 

The phone rang again, and he just sighed defeatedly before he picked it up. “Hello, this is the Mayor’s office.” 

 

“Mayor Taylor, this is the West Borough Sun. Do you have a statement to give about the sudden death of Joshua Chambers? Do you suspect foul play? Will you be calling for an investigation into the matter? Could this be related to recent comments from yesterday’s Council Meeting? Did you test the flower left at the scene for DNA?” 

 

He let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry? Is this some sort of joke?” 

 

“Your statement, please, Mr. Mayor. We want to be the first to release the story. And provide our deepest condolences.” 

 

His mouth fell open a little bit. “I-what?” he asked, blinking a few times in shock as his heart started to beat faster. Surely this was some sort of cruel joke. “No comment,” he said, like a machine, and slammed the phone down. He stared straight ahead for a long moment, the sound of the voice over the phone replaying in his head as he couldn’t make himself move. He didn’t know how much time passed before he was finally able to make himself move away from there. Both phones started ringing like crazy once more, but he couldn’t answer them. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do this. He just had to check on his boyfriend.

 

Jeremiah’s face was set as stone as he quickly pushed the doors to his office open, walking briskly through the offices and cubicles filled with people. He could feel their eyes on him. But suddenly, that didn’t matter, this job didn’t matter, nothing mattered anymore. He jumped into his convertible and didn’t even take an extra second to buckle before he was driving to his home. The gates couldn’t have taken longer to open if they tried. He saw his mother’s car in the driveway of his parents’ house - which was deeply unusual and only worried him more, making him drive a little faster. He didn’t even shut off the car or park in the driveway. The neighbor’s association would scold him for parking on the grass but he didn’t care. He had to get inside. The door was unlocked which worried him more as he threw it open. “Joshua?! Joshua!” he yelled, checking every room. Until he saw him. 

 

Still. 

 

No blood, no violence. Looking so peaceful and laying still, with a white rose tucked behind his ear. He could feel himself freeze up in shock at the sight, and a cold feeling came over him immediately, the coldest he’d ever felt. The feeling that… All of this… Was because of him, trying to stand up for his people. And… Failing. Failing miserably. 

 

“Joshua…” he said, wincing when he heard the waver in his voice. When he touched his cheek, he was surprised to find it wet. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be real,” he said aloud, as if that would make God or whoever realize that it really wasn’t real. But the sight was still in front of him even when it was obscured by tears. Even when the screams of horror started to tear out of his throat. None of it changed a thing. 

 

His family. Olivia would be living with her mother. Jeremiah had no right to her - he and Joshua weren’t even married. And he would never get to marry him. He suddenly regretted how many times he told him, soon. Or worse… Later. Once this gets done, once that is finished. Once I get this, once I do that…  And now… It was never going to happen. 

 

He slowly took the paper that was sitting on the table beside him, neatly sealed in red wax, his hands shaking and his breathing growing fast and out of control. He slowly opened the paper, almost ripping it. He was barely able to read it through the tears in his eyes.  Only speak when spoken to. May the odds be ever in Olivia’s favor. 

 

No. It was her first reaping, this couldn’t be happening to them. He could hear himself breathing, he could hear sobs, he could hear yelling, but it was as if he was watching it all from the outside, held by some invisible hand that wouldn’t let him go, and forced him to stay there and watch this scene in horror. 

 

He loved his people, he loved his home, and he was trying to make things better. For what?! It was hopeless. Nothing he could possibly do could get them what they needed. And him trying… It cost the life of the man he loved. Bitter tears streaked his cheeks as he balled up his fist around the paper and crumpled it up. His parents were going to hate what this did to their family name. He ruined it, he ruined everything. They killed him. 

 

He dropped the paper on the floor, his heart pounding. His body acted before his mind had the chance to realize what it was doing. His hands wrapped tightly around the keys to his car. Where he was going - what he was doing - he didn’t know. He got in the car, slamming the door shut. He had to get out of here. He didn’t know where, or how, or what he was going to do. But he had to get away from here. He put the pedal to the metal, not even looking back at his house or his parents’. He just wanted to get away from all of this. He drove down the populated streets of downtown, he drove until he was so far out in the backwoods of the District there wasn’t even a paved road. A tree. Yes, a tree. He locked eyes on the biggest tree in the distance, and leaned forward over his steering wheel, watching the speed climbing up. 

 

“I’m gonna be with you soon, Joshua,” he said, brows knit in determination. But before he could prepare for impact, he saw something scurry out in front of the car, which smacked off of his bumper as he hurriedly threw on the breaks, feeling the car swerve and slide as it hit its target, crashing into the tree with a great loud bang and the airbag keeping him from making impact as he cursed loudly with a yell. He took a few ragged breaths, his fingers wandering to his head which was throbbing and bleeding a little bit and then to his knee which was bleeding profusely. But he didn’t feel the pain from it, only the warm sensation of blood trickling down from it onto his ankle and calf. 

 

He was still here. 

 

And more importantly, there was another creature out there that was in pain. He didn’t know what to do, but he quickly got out of the car with a cry of pain and sorrow, finding the cat that was struck on the ground by the side of the trail and picking it up. It was still alive. Bleeding, but still alive. He suddenly had a new purpose. He squinted into the distance, and saw a light not too far away. 

 

“Stay with me,” he told the little cat, wrapping her up in his shirt and hobbling towards the house, letting out a loud cry of pain every time he stepped on his right leg. But there was a creature that needed help in his arms. And unlike his District, unlike his family… He could help this one. So he was going to do everything he could to do that. There was no way he could fail now. 

 

He saw the light of a lantern come into sight, carried by a young blonde boy of no more than twelve himself. When he saw him in the light, he let out a cry of surprise. “A-Are you alright Sir?!” he asked quickly, eyes widening. 

 

“The cat, please,” he choked out, dropping to his knees. 

 

“George!” a woman wrapped in a yarn shawl came out of the house, followed by a man that looked like the boy in question. But her crossness with the boy was replaced with concern at the sight of the man and the feline, and she quickly gasped as the man hurried over, putting an arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Come inside right away. My wife’s gonna call the doctor faster than a speedin’ bullet,” he said, supporting Jeremiah who slumped against him, holding the cat to his chest, which was still breathing. The boy led them inside with the lantern. The house was smaller than any that Jeremiah had ever seen, let alone lived in. But it smelled like pine and there was a raging fireplace. 

 

“Set up a cot for this poor soul!” the woman called, and the boy got right to work setting it up with a pillow and a small hay mattress, lowering him down so he could put out his leg. She came back out, cheeks rosy and face concerned. “The doctor’s comin’ right away.” She gently took the cat from him. “George, go fetch a bowl of milk and a scrap of goose for this poor thing.” 

 

“Of course, Mama,” the boy said, the twinge in his voice evident as he went to fetch the requested items. 

 

“It’s all gonna be alright, Mister… Well wait just a darn minute. You’re the mayor, ain’t ya? Ol’ Jem Taylor, I saw ya on the news!” 

 

He put a hand on his head a little bit and held it. “Not anymore,” he said quietly. “I’m never going back there again. I’m never being that person again. Jeremiah Taylor is a failure.” 

 

“A failure? Why, you’re the reason our farm’s been thrivin! You do all the readin’ and writin’ and maths ‘nd stuff us folk’re too simple to understand and keep our District runnin.” 

 

“Not anymore,” he repeated, his voice broken. If only he could see himself like they saw Jem Taylor. “Wait…” he said quietly. “You… You can’t read?” 

 

“That’s more a… city folk thing,” the man said as George was feeding the cat and he came back with a glass of water for him. “Even if we wanted to, there ain’t nobody in the next hundred miles that does that stuff.” 

 

He took the water glass and sipped it slowly, looking at the sweet face of the cat and the boy that was softly petting her. He wanted to grant him the opportunities to be educated and grow up to have a good life. “Well… I ain’t ever goin’ back to the city,” he said quietly. He never wanted to face what he did again. He couldn’t put anyone else in danger. “And… I can do that. In fact, I’d be happy to teach you. As… A thanks.” 

 

“Oh…” said the woman, about to protest when she saw the boy on the floor light up. “Yeah! Then I can write letters to someone real far away and read their letters. Or read those cool dusty old comic books that we found in Stratdlater’s basement! Oh please Mama! Let ‘im stay!” 

 

The two adults exchanged a long look. “Well you certainly ain’t goin’ anywhere all roughed up like this,” the man finally said, giving them a smile. “We out here in the outskirts are real hospitable. And if you’re going to teach our son, then… We’ll be happy for you to stay as long as you need to.” This got a cheer from the boy and a smile and nod from the woman beside him. 

 

He just furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched the injured cat, leg all wrapped up by the boy and eating small bites of the scraps left for her. He’d never been welcomed like this anywhere. And to be invited to stay, despite being strangers… This was a kindness he’d never been shown. Maybe there was something to live for after all. He still felt a heavy pain in his heart. But at least he had somewhere to stay for the night. One night at a time… That was what he would have to do. And as long as he was helping someone else, he would always have a reason to wake up in the morning. Even if it was as small as a cat, or a little boy. “Thank you,” he said, as the door opened and a kind-looking person entered and the couple relaxed at seeing them. 

 

“No problem, Mr. Jeremiah, Sir. Dr. Kate’s gonna fix you up real good now.” 

 

He smiled a little bit at the lady - true, genuine kindness in her face unlike he’d ever seen before. He didn’t want to go back to the city, to all their dead eyes and fake countenances. Maybe time away from it all would do him some good after all. So he just gave them a smile as the woman started surveying his wounds and he handed the glass of water back to the man with a smile. 

 

“Please… You can just call me Jem.”