Cachimorro Olentzero, District 10

Name: Cachimorro Olentzero
Age: 17
Gender: Male
District: 10

Physical Description:
They say I’m an old soul trapped in a young body. I’ve gotten in plenty of times, especially out here on the Ranch. Tell me, you ain’t got a mind like them kids, because I don’t care so much about the little things. But I look just like the rest of ‘em, dressed up in a pair of jeans and a button down, Stetson, and vest. Pair of spurs that shines bright as day on my boots, I tell you what, because ain’t nothing better than reminding people I ride. Tend to forget around here there are a lotta fakers, the ones that pretend to be somethin’ they ain’t. Not me, no suh, I get what I earn through the hard work that shows on my hands. Got a burn on my wrist from a branding iron and my nose was busted after a bad fall off a young pony.

I ain’t too rough looking though. Taller’n my sisters, fer shuh, and I got the same type of frame my father had—built big to ride and haul. Got a bad set of knees though, guess from one too many falls from horses. Had a nasty one last spring, so sometimes I wake up with stiff legs and a pain in my neck. But it ain’t much I can’t deal with. Guess I’m plain as day—so says my older brother—brown hair and eyes, blend in real nice with the background. Not that it matter’d much. I find people pay more attention to you once you proved yourself—show’n what you can do rather than acting like you know everything. Not really my forte anyway, flouncing around like I own the place. Give me the shirt on my back and a saddle for ridin’ and I’m all set.

Never had much money anyway. Most of my stuff was second hand until a little while ago, when my brother would give me his old worn out flannel and jeans. He’d pass ‘em off to me so we didn’t have to waste money on nothing extra. Got by on what we got, when it was still enough. That’s what families do around here anyway, we look out for one another and make sure we get by. Life’s funny like that, just trying to keep the earth below my feet before we get it ripped out from underneath. Still got a few reapings left for me to get through and then we can feel settled.

Personality:
Guess I’m more serious than most. Always seen things more black and white than with lotsa color. People my age like to explain things away, or even overthink what we got to know. But I ain’t one of ‘em. If it walks and talks like a duck, then it’s a duck. Hemming and hawing about the color of its feathers or the way it waddles don’t change nothing. And forget about the kind that complain about their lot. I ain’t got time for people so wrapped up in their own torments that they forget we’re all going through it. We all got pain, and I hate it when people make assumptions about what get ways and what don’t. Cry me a fucking river when you lost your pa or your ma, I’ll show you ten more who’ve got the very same thing.

Don’t think I don’t keep my mind open to things. That’s the problem with assumptions, anyway. It’s just that I find it a lot easier to listen to people who’ve got something to say than nothing at all. We got put on this green earth to serve the capitol or whatever it is we’re supposed to do, and people are more concerned about feelin’ down than doing something about their lives. You going hungry you ask me for what you need. You got no clothes, I’ll give you a shirt off my back. But when you open your mouth about how hard it is, how people have it so much worse’n you, I’m gonna walk away. We all got stories—some of ‘em are deep and buried—just open your ears instead of your mouth for a minute you might get to hear them.

I suppose that’s why some people call me gruff. But I mind things, I really do. Keep myself so busy I don’t even make time for myself. Can’t say the last time I went out by myself other’n to celebrate after the last reaping. Family’s the most important thing for me now. Not girls, not being important, not even what I want. Got to make sure the little ones have something to wear and food to eat, and that my older brother is safe. Nothing so good as knowing all of us are gettin’ on with life. Only way to happiness, that is.

What’s my biggest wish? I want to grow old. I want to look back on my life and say I did something, that I was a man of patience, kind to all, gave it all I got and spared none. ‘Cause that’s what this is all really about. People forget that they ain’t got to live life to be famous, beautiful, rich, or any of that. You just got to get on—you got to… you got to know that when you wake up on your last day, you ain’t gonna look in the mirror and say—gee, I wish I’d done better. ‘Cause when I’m old and grey that’s all I want.

History:
We grew up with nothing and don’t have much more’n that now. Got a dairy farm that keeps us good and fat, and healthy, too. But it don’t make no money, not by a long shot. And when the cows ain’t got enough to eat they ain’t makin’ the milk like they used to. And ain’t nobody what want to buy from a sick cow. So we don’t do so good anymore, not like we used to. It’s a shame though, this place used to be real nice before my Pa passed. He kept it lookin’ bright and new, helped make the best milk in the district. Good enough for the capitol, even. Or at least, that’s what he used to say.

I have two younger sisters, Leita and Tolosa, and they’s all right. They too young to get reaped yet so I have to mind them from time to time. They ain’t ruined by the world yet you know? Still real sweet, and like to use their imagination. I ain’t let nobody mess with them—ever did I’d stick a knife in theys throat. Same goes with my brother, Zorion. He got sick when we was young, mumps or something that messed with his brain. He doesn’t do too good with thinking anymore. We get along real well, helps me milk the cows, clean up, all the good stuff. You know, whatever it is needs done, he does it. Not a bad man—growing up big and strong. I’m his keeper though—mind him, make sure he ain’t got no problem with the folk around here.

They don’t like to understand him so much, on account of he has a way of getting hisself into bad ways. Gets too close to girls, touches ‘em in bad places. Or in public asks questions he shouldn’t. Not fair to blame him though, ain’t his fault. Never got to think the way we do, just don’t know no better. So I watch him now, take blame whenever he gets himself in trouble. Been that way ever since I was little, I’m only two years younger than him. Hard enough with the little sisters, but he makes it ten times so. Not that I could ever complain. Boy, you don’t even know how it feels when he looks up at me with those big brown eyes and says “I’m happy.”

We lost momma when little Leita was born. She drifted out of this world, just as beautiful as she was soft. They say it was her heart, just couldn’t take no more. Funny, think it was the same thing that killed my Pa. His ticker gave out too, not a year after she had gone. Fifteen and just shy of manhood—so they said around here—I stepped up to run the farm and mind things. It’s hard work but I ain’t mindin’ it. Keep the ledger, feed the cows, milk them, deliver the milk. Do it all over, every day, making money that we need and fixing what needs fixing. Guess it would be nice to sit and idle but I ain’t got time for that. The only thing I want now is to live, see my family live. Not get caught up in no nonsense that ever gonna separate us.

codeword: odair