Letters to Max

[the_marshal]

The Capitol:

Back again, Max. Back again fro the last time. One way or the other. One side ain't leavin this place alive. Wine or lose, it's all down to this.

The strange thing? Whatever happens, don't much matter to me anymore. However this turns up, I know what to do. What I'll finally be able to do...

I swear, every now and again, when the wind's jus right and the sky's particularly blue, that I can feel you. There. Just around that next corner. Down that next block. I know it.

Soon, Max. We're almost there. And no peacekeeper er mutt er anything else is going to stop us now.

You remember the stable?

We passed it yesterday. The horses are long gone, but it still stands. it waits.

Just like us.

I'll be there, when it's over.

I'll be waiting. You find me, Max. I'll wait as long as it takes.

If you get there before I do, don't give up on me. You wait for me. I'll get there, or I'll be in the ground. Nothin else will stop me, Max. Nothin, ever.

I love you, Max. With everythin I have, and everythin I am. And soon, that won't just be words on a paper.

The stables, Max.

Hell or high water. Win or lose.

I'll wait.

Always, Wyatt.

(There's only one sketch, this letter. A small, hazy pair of silhouettes, side-by-side, walking together toward an uncertain horizon. It's one last thought, unfinished - never finished - before the page was hastily folded and passed for travel. The last thing that mattered. The only thing had ever mattered.)

District 4:

(When it arrives, the envelope is torn slightly. The letter is unharmed, but small seashell Wyatt tucked inside has poked through. A few of the sharper points have broken off and turned to grit inside.)

It stinks here, Max. Salt and fish and death.

And it's dark. It's an angry sky, the clouds so dark and low, you'd think you could touch them. I know it's high noon, but it feels like I'm stepping out in the dead of night. It's been days since I've seen the sun.

When it finally breaks, it's going to be hell of a storm.

Though I suppose it feels that way everywhere, after Snow's little surprise.

I don't even know what to say about that. How can it ever end, how can we ever be free I suppose we'll just have to settle for throwing him in a hole somewhere and making it so he never gets to see the sun again.

I was hoping I might be able to steal away some time for fishing I ain't had fresh meat in, but the ocean's wild and the docks slipperier than greased pig. I ain't got any intention on drowning while here. I managed to avoid that in all the arenas, I ain't starting now.

I did find a few funny little shells though. If you hold it up to your ear, you can hear where it came from. The waves crashing on the shore - like it remembers. I sent you one, and I have one. If we both listen, it's a bit like we're in the same place. It ain't much of a consolation, but its something until I can hold you again.

Maybe by then I'll have finally dried out again and stopped smelling like something the cat coughed up.

Don't you laugh, you bastard.

...Though the thought of your smile is a good one.

Think of me well, Max, and smile for me.

With all my love,

Wyatt.


District 10:

(There are smudges on the envelope. Dirt, rich and dark. A small amount can be found inside.)

I wish you were here, Max. I know I say that every time, but it's especially true here. District 9 made me reminded me of you, so much it hurt, but here -- I think of us. Of all those things we talked about. Our home, the future, us.

The hills are just like I remember; they go on forever, coming up on the sky every way you look. The earth is dark - though you'll have to give your expert opinion on it's farming qualities. I haven't seen a person outside my team in days.

We could set up anywhere, you and me. Wherever we wanted and not have to face the rest of the world but when we wanted. Just you, me, and the vegetables.

And the horses, of course. Can't forget them.

They've actually given us a few for getting around. I haven't seen a horse since -- you remember that first Christmas? I do. Whatever else came out of that night, that was good. A good memory.

Oh, I wish you were here.

But then, maybe you've got one where you are. A horse - not a memory. Hopefully you've got lots of those. If you've got a horse though, give it a scratch for me. And tell it I'll get it apples for the rest of its days if it carries you safe for me. Safe through all the rest of this and back to me.

To this.

I don't think 13'll let me stay here and wait, but someday, Max. Someday we'll get back here. And those things will be ours.

Stay strong for me, Max. Stay safe.

All my love always,
Wyatt

P.S. - And maybe send me some of those General thoughts of yours, huh? They're talking about having me make a speech....

(Instead of the letter carrying over to the back of the first page, the whole backside of the first page is instead filled with the sketch of a house. There's a note scribbled above the awning - "Needs a porch yet...." On the second page, the top of the paper is filled with the profile of a horse.)

District 9:

(When this letter is opened, several thin golden shafts tumble free, the precious grain seeds rolling in the creases of the paper. Wheat. Dried and fragile.

The first page of the letter is wrinkled, as if crumbled, and then, later, smoothed again. Decisions were made.)

Wheat. As far as the eye can see. That's all District 9 is. I feel like I've died and gone to your heaven.

I dream of you. Of the wheat parting and there you are, and when I'm awake, I wait for it. I keep looking. In the bad ones, I see you stepping into it, and no matter how quickly I follow, I can never seem to catch up.

...I can't wait until we're done here.

It ain't right without you. I want to put it behind me, and come back again, someday, when we can do it together. So you can see it. This ocean of gold, taller than I am - taller than some of the trees I saw in 7!

No campfires though, Max. We've already had a big one break out, with everything being so dry here. It was like that arena, the last one, just smoke and flame - and this time I knew for certain there'd be no coming back if we didn't get out.

But we did. A little singed, and I ain't sure the smell will ever really come out of my clothes, but I'm in one piece. Speaking of...

Have you felt - any different lately? Anything, strange?

Something happened a few weeks back, and now again, here. I can... do things. 13 says it was something the Capitol did, messing with us while bringing us back from the arenas. Made us different. I thought it was done, but here I am again - able to use magic.

I hope... it doesn't upset you, does it? I know it ain't right, but I didn't ask for it. And maybe there's something they can do. If ever I wished I could talk to you...

We can make it work. Together. Just like we always have.

(The second page is smooth and wrinkle free. The ink a different color. He'd taken a break, and come back.)

I don't if these letters are getting to you, and even if they are, I expect they aren't letting you write back. I don't want you to worry.

Whatever else, Max.... whatever happens. All I want, is for you to know how much I love you. And to know how I wait just to see you again.

Be strong. Stay safe.

I'll keep looking.

Devotedly yours,
Wyatt


District 1:

Well, we're out of the snow... but truth told, I think I'd prefer all the trees and wild things to all the shine going on here. It's like the Capitol, in miniature, but without the satisfaction of knowing we've finally brought justice to Snow's doorstep.

I suppose I could get finally get some more of that wine you liked so much. I don't figure 13 would be too keen on getting it out to you, but I could hold onto it. Until we're together again.

Would even be fitting. It ain't a celebration without some booze to grease things along. I'm sure we'd manage to squeeze it in somewhere. We'd need something to do while storing up for another go.

Did you manage something nice for the holiday? I didn't even realize Christmas had come and gone until we got here and I saw the notices in the shop windows. Not quite the way I imagined making up for last year, but someday. You have my word, we'll do it proper.

Of course, with Christmas behind us, that means the year is coming to end too. I wonder what the new one will bring? How much longer this'll stretch. It feels like it's been a lifetime already, though I know it's really just begun. It's all the road now, and the districts -- and the thought of you. Always you.

I hope you're keeping safe. I trust they'd tell me, if you weren't - Bucky, at least. So I suppose, as hard as the distance and silence is, it's for the best that I don't hear anything.

Still though, I hope. I wish I could remember those words you used to say... maybe your gods would listen better.

...They're calling for us now, Max. It's time for me to head out again.

May this letter find you fast. May it remind you how much I love you, and miss you.

Remember that, Max. And the distance ain't so bad.

All my love,
Wyatt

The letter comes with a Christmas tree, sketched on the back. And along one margin is a small, short list. The names of wines, several sratched out, one circled in heavy ink.


District 7:

I thought 12 was cold, but it ain't got anything on 7. It reminds me of when we met. Remember the ice? It feels like it was so long ago. Too long ago.

I know I miss you something terrible, when even the damned snow makes me ache.

A lot more trees here too, than in 12. Makes sense, this being the lumber district. I haven't been to any of the mills, and I'm hoping not too. The people here talk like they're living things, like they'll eat you alive and spit you back out if you ain't careful. (That bit reminds me of home.)

It's a little like being back in the Capitol too - I see my own face every time I turn around. Except, somehow, it's all the worse here. I saw a snowman today with a mustache and a hat, and I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry.

You didn't see that damned thing, did you? I meant what I said, but bless these folks, believing me despite that silly thing they put me in. ...They didn't even let me keep the hat.

There was an explosion in the trees, a lot of people got caught in it. The Capitol's trying to get their people out while they can - you can see the stream of white heading into the forest. 13 has told us to try and stop them. I can see why. I understand it... but I don't at the same time.

You were right, I ain't got any damn stomach for this.

There's a hospital here. Two, in fact. I'm doing what I can - Joan's been teaching me when she has the time - but there are so many. The other hospital's the Capitol's, but I hear some of the district folks are helping there too. 'People are people,' I've heard them say.

For whatever else, there's good people here. I hope we can help them.

I hope we can help ourselves.

I'm still looking for you. Hoping I might see you soon, if only for a moment.

Stay safe. I love you.

Always yours,
Wyatt

Sketched into the margins is a snowman and some trees. Pine needles are folded into the creases of the paper.



District 12:

We're in 12 now. It's nice to be back where I can see the sun, and feel the breeze. Even if it's cold now. I miss the hills though. It's all forest here. Trees I barely remember from the last time I was back east, before. Tall enough to pierce the heavens.

The Capitol is here too. The people are scared, as you can imagine. We're trying to get them out.

There was some ruckus in the mines. I'm pretty sure there's people trapped there. I don't like the way the officers look at each other. I think we're going down in. Back under the ground. I feel like a mole. And damned coal dust gets every where. I look like a naked raccoon.

Still missing you, besides. You're always close in my thoughts. I look for you all the time sometimes. I know you can't say where you are, but if I happened on you myself, that wouldn't be anybody's fault right?

Until next time, Max. Stay safe and warm. Merry.... Se Sater Saturnalia.

Yours with love always,
Wyatt

Around frayed edges of the paper is a long tracking loop of rabbit tracks. Coal dust coats the letter, and Wyatt's fingerprints are smudged in places.