The Last Day

November 18, 1827

By day, I was in the area of the university. I do not say 'in' the university, for I could never have afforded to study there. Still, if one is in the business of making fans, the university is a good place to pass the time, speak to buyers, or simply take in the sunshine.

It was a cold day however when, while I was sitting on a bench, that I saw my friend Damien Bahorel saunter out of the university gate with an angry look on his face. The latter fact was not unusual though, but I could sense that it was more than just a commonplace upset that he'd barely escaped from. He was cursing under his breath as he passed by me, clearly not looking from side to side.

I jumped up and grabbed his coat. "What's happened, mon ami?" I asked before something slammed into my nose. As I fell to the ground, I heard Bahorel yell something as he turned to look at me.

"Feuilly! Heavens, don't do that, unless you mean to frighten me!" he laughed. "My apologies, mon ami. Are you hurt?"

I wiped my nose gingerly, and was relieved to find no blood on my sleeve. "I'll be just fine. But you haven't answered my question!" I said as I helped myself up.

Bahorel sighed even though his eyes were concerned. "This is useless, Feuilly," he said, gesturing to the university.

I scratched my head. "What and why?"

Bahorel gritted his teeth in an expression of frustration I was only too used to. "I do not see the point in attending classes when there are urgent things to be done. I will not go back, unless I am called for."

It was all I could do not to shake him. We had this discussion before. I settled for giving him a weary look. "You know how many young men would want to be in your place," I began.

"Feuilly, please do not start," Bahorel said. "I know you never studied, but please..."

I stretched out my hand to indicate the surroundings. "Look at this! I know you love emeutes, I know you like the crowd, but something has to last...for the people!" I said. My irritation was giving way to urgency, urgency to make my friend see what I saw. "Education, that is deliverance just as well as an emeute is. Combeferre says it's a way for civilization. Prouvaire calls it upliftment. I call it a step to egalite. I know you want to fight, mon ami, but there is something that has to unite the people more than blood and iron."

Bahorel gave me an odd smile as he took my arm. "Do you see that gamin there?" he asked, pointing to a scraggly boy eyeing us.

"What for?" I asked.

"Tell me how learning my Plato will give him his next meal," Bahorel simply said to me. And I could only look at him, and shrug knowing that the question needed more pondering that all Bahorel's education and all my reading could ever give.