My first day I was cane free and could walk I decided to take a small trip. I wanted to visit the old place my friends and I had once met. We called ourselves Friends of the ABC and thought ourselves revolutionaries. They had all perished but I had been saved. But I also, felt the guilt of living. Why was I so lucky? I felt I needed to see the place, know they really were gone.
Cosette protested I was not completely healed, but I told her a limp and an arm sling was nothing and I could never fully heal without closure. She understood. She had walked this path. Eventually she agreed and we planned to go that afternoon. I couldn't eat lunch and spent some time looking at myself. I was ghost of my former self. My cheeks were hollow and my eyes red with fatigue. I looked like the dead man I should be.
We took a carriage, since my limp would make the walk into a 3 hour event. When the carriage stopped and a hobbled out I realized something. The place had stairs. I had not dealt with stairs in a while since I slept on the first floor and there was no reason to go upstairs. With considerable effort and much leaning on Cosette I made it to the room where the meetings were. I saw the place was ransacked and broken. I told Cosette I needed a few minutes alone, to really let go of the place. She obliged saying she would be in the carriage waiting.
Since the rebellion, looters had come and stolen my friend's precious items. But a few choice items remained. Grantaire's favorite drinking cup which was old and made of wood, which was worthless to all but me. I saw a button that could only come from Courfeyrac'sexpensive jackets. I saw an old chair that Joly always sat in. Last I saw something for which I nearly wept. Enjoras's hair ribbon, which he used to tie his long hair into a pony tail. He said it was lucky but I guess in the rush of the moment he didn't pull his hair back. Could he have been successful if he had his good luck charm? No that is foolish. Luck is for the gullible and drunk, my grandfather told me.
I hobbled to the chair Joly sat in. I looked around. The place was truly in shambles. It had always been in some state of order. Enjoras, always made sure the place was livable, saying, "We are not the King, who can willfully let his home, France, crumble away. We must have order, the likes our kind has never known." Enjoras's righteous indignation was a common enough sight, but it was how he spoke. So inflammatory that he could be hanged for treason 100 times over.
I sat and looked around. The window's glass all broken. This saddened me because Combeferre had worked hard to collect the monthly club dues. He was like our financier, and with the rent and such it was hard to save any money. But he had, and had installed glass windows which kept the place warm in the winter. It set ourselves apart from other student groups, who met in hovels. The old fireplace that once held a magnificent fire. Little Gavroche saw to it, making the fire full and warm, as if his life was dependent on it. Gavroche was never an official member and Marius felt he should have been made a member. The boy had been just as supportive as any of them. The mantle above was used to hold book. It was mostly maps and law books but did hold a great number of fiction. Grantaire, was a drunkard, but he enjoyed fiction. The group would tease them but I had read a few and quite enjoyed them.
I saw the bullet holes Courfeyrac had once made. He was trying to prove he could shoot an apple off of a mate's head. He had missed about 2 feet above Grantaire's head. Enjoras, seemed to explode, saying a man does not kill his friend. The other protested that it was in jest but Enjoras wouldn't have it. Courfeyrac had suffered a punishment where he was banished from the club for a week, which in that time he managed to be thrown in jail for a night, partied and also was able to find a mistress. Grantaire was forbidden to drink for the same time.
"My, friends. My friends, forgive me," I let slip from my mouth without realizing it. A small wind flew through the building and I felt as if someone was slapping me on my shoulder for being sentimental.
Tears brimmed around my eyes. A shudder ran through me and I felt my head sink. I felt like I was excommunicated from the club. They could be dead and live in paradise where they had won their revolution. I sat here like Lucifer cast from heaven. But I was silly, they were my friends and would never imagine kicking anyone out for good. Enjoras had forgiven Courfeyrac and had paid the bail to get him out of jail. Enjoras had nursed Grantaire during his hangover.
I stood and collected the button and hair ribbon. I do not know if this was in jest but one night near Christmas, Enjoras had allowed everyone to drink extensively as a gift. He was very much against the drink, but loosened up around the holidays. Drunkenly, Enjoras had told me if he died I could have his stuff seeing as he had no family. The others cheered and laughed. They all had nothing so this was particularly funny.
"Cosette, my love, you are welcome to come up now," I said quietly. Remarkably she heard me and I tried to clear my eyes
She came up and saw me. Her face melted into sympathy, I clearly had not cleared my emotions well enough. She knelt at my feet despite my protests she might dirty her dress and rubbed by hand telling me it was all okay. I looked down at her. This was the first time she had ever seen me mourn someone or in this case people, I knew. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I stood up, uneasy and she supported me.
"Have you felt closure?" she asked.
"Not entirely, but I feel I visited their grave and paid my respects," I shuddered.
We walked out into the warm afternoon and I thought the place seemed at ease. But that was silly. I knew I may be back sometime in the future, maybe days or years. I knew if any my friends did this I would be touched and hoped they felt the same in heaven.