I am so so sorry again. (I say that quite often...)
It never took me this long to update and I don't even have a good reason. There was just not enough time on some days and on the other days I didn't really feel like I could write that chapter. I guess that's a miniature writers blockade... Looks like someone built a barricade in my head (bad joke, I know...). I really try to update more often now!
So I am sorry. I hope you like it anyways.
And please review and tell me what you think!
Chapter 6
It was early. Dawn was breaking over the roofs of Paris. Most of the city was still sleeping.
But not Éponine.
She had waited for about an hour – silently – her back to the wall of her room – for her parents to go to bed. Now was the safest time to get out of here.
She hadn't slept for long that night. Éponine hadn't been as lucky as he had wished. She had tried to sneak into the house as quietly as possible, but her father caught her on the staircase. They needed her as a lookout that night. It's been two hours past midnight when she finally came back home. That only gave her a little more than 2 hours of sleep.
While she went to bed her parents were celebrating their catch. Which meant lots of alcohol. It still made Éponine shake her head in disbelieve. They would need to steal quite a bit less if they would stop using most of the money from their nightly trips for their drinks.
But Éponine wasn't even sure if her parents didn't do most of their burglaries simply for the thrill of it. The danger, the disguise, all those roles they played... She hated it as much as the Thénardiers loved it. As a child it was funny. She didn't understand what it meant. Now she saw the brutality at some nights. Now she felt the danger of getting caught and being thrown into prison. Now she heard the cries of those who were prey to the patron-minette. They didn't even care anymore if those who they robbed were rich or even poorer than they were. Nothing really mattered to them.
But now she didn't want to think about that. It was time to go. And she didn't go alone. Some of the money they made last night went with her. It's funny how easy picking pockets gets when those you steal from are in a drunken coma.
She was used to steal from her father. Nowadays it was the only way she would get money to buy some bread. It was either her fathers pocket or the one of some rich looking stranger in the streets.
An hour later.
The heat of the four loafs of bread she just bought felt wonderful in the early morning chill. It was rarely she had enough money to buy so much food. The baker eyed her suspiciously when she payed her order – obviously knowing that this money was not her own. But as long as he was getting payed it little mattered where that money came from.
She was on her way to her little brother, Gavroche, and his group of friends. She went there as often as possible. There was nothing worse for her than seeing these little kids living in the streets as walking skeletons. None of them were growing to be strong and tall as malnourished as they were. And none of them were to find a good job. None of them would have much of a future. Her brother was only 10 years old.
Gavroche was the leader of a little group of street kids that lived in the elephant at the Place de la Bastille. Napoleon planed a monument there. But as he was canceled from the thrown of France so was his plan for the monument. The only thing left was the model for it, a smaller version of the elephant made out of wood and gypsum on the edge of the place. Since it was abandoned by its builders it was used as a nightly shelter by those kids. About seven of them fitted in there. Sometimes there was one more or one less. A few of those children came and left on a whim. But most of them stayed close to her little brother.
Gavroche woke up to the smell of warm bread. And before he opened his eyes he knew where that came from.
"Éponine?!"
"Hey there, little brother." He could hear her smile as she said that.
"Everybody wake up! Breakfast time!", Gavroche shouted to wake his friends up. It didn't take long. The moment he mentioned food all of them were wide awake – their stomachs growling in anticipation.
Éponine started distributing the bread among them, handing each half a loaf. The bread was small but fresh, better than what they had most of the week. With the last one she came back to Gavroche and sat down next to him – breaking the last bread in half. He got the bigger one. And didn't even bother arguing that she should take it. They usually would fight for a while and she would win – stubborn as she was. But today he was just too hungry to discuss with her.
"Best wishes from father who so generously payed for this round.", Éponine said before she too began to eat. Gavroche had already stuffed half of his part into his mouth. It took him a moment to swallow all that down. After that he furrowed his brows in concern.
"You shouldn't do that, you know? It's not worth getting caught."
"Let that be my problem. I know when I have to be careful. Anyhow, look at that bread and tell me again it wasn't worth it.", she said with a smirk.
Gavroche looked at her still swollen cheek and the bruises on her arm right next to him.
"It isn't worth it."
Éponine hated how much of a grown up little Gavroche sometimes sounds just as much as his talent in observing things and seeing those details most people just overlooked. He was so easily unsettled. As she saw the worry in his face she tried to think of something to distract him.
"You're looking good, little one. And so do your friends. You are quite a leader... looking after your friends like that." His face lit up. It was working. "So what have you been up to these last couple of days? I didn't see you around at the cafe?"
"Oh I was spreading the word. Revolution and stuff. Among the children." He was talking with such passion now. And Éponine noticed how he didn't count himself amongst the kids. It was that influence from the cafe. As much as Courfeyrac was his bigger brother, Enjolras became his idol. And she hated the revolutionary for that.
"And how did that go?", she asked – suppressing her anger.
"Good... well, not as good as I wished, but not bad. Courf said that the more I practice the better I will become." His eyes gleamed proudly. "He said that if that revolution takes long enough and I am older I would grow to be as much of a leader as Monsieur Enjolras. And then I can fight for France. Just like I do now."
Oh she was going to kill them for planting those ideas in his head.
She knew about their plans. About the barricade. It was her greatest fear that he might want to partake. That revolution wasn't helping anyone. They would just all going to get themselves killed. And she could not bear the thought of his little body, cold and bullet pierced lying somewhere in the streets. Dead for nothing. He was only a kid. Éponine would not let that happen.
But for now she did not say anything about that. She kept silence and took another bite from her part of the bread. They both ate their food in silence – each of them lost in their own train of thoughts.
"So do you come to the cafe tonight?", Gavroche asked her as he was finished. Éponine swallowed her last bite.
That was actually a good question. Would she go?
There was no reason not to. There was nothing to fear. Everything was just as it was before. But still... that leader of them made her feel uncomfortable. She could not quite see why that was, after all they talked everything out, but there was something odd about him. But that was not enough to keep her away. She would see Marius. And she could spend time with her brother. And most of all she much too stubborn to let him drive her away.
"Yes. I will be there."
Everything was back to normal. She would become a shadow again. Invisible to everyone she did not want to see.
Little she knew.
