Chapter Three – Enjolras, Age Five
"Enjolras, get your brother at school and please tell him that he'll need to be back home by 6:00, not 8:00 like I told him. We're having company."
Louis had started school at age seven, like I would in two years. Now he was eight years old. I went to go tell him Maman's message faithfully. The school was only a few minutes away from our house, so Maman didn't mind my leaving alone. As I walked down the road through the crisp autumn air, I noticed that school had obviously let out already, since the street was filling with people coming from the school. I went in that direction, searching out Louis.
A tall child (by my five-year-old standards) boldly walked up to me.
"Who are you, squirt?" I was taken aback by his abrupt behavior. What should I say? I decided to simply state my name and be on my way.
"Enjolras Lambert." I mumbled, and started to walk away.
"Hey, get back here!" he yelled, grabbing the collar of my shirt. "You don't have a familiar last name. Have a father, squirt? If so, he's obviously not very important. I'd have heard of him if he was." He was putting on airs! Maman would hate that!
"My father's dead. Let me go!" As the boy started to say something else, a powerful voice came from behind me, calling
"Henri Toussaud! Leave my brother alone or you'll get it!" It was Louis, backed up by several of his friends, who all looked bent on Henri's destruction. I hugged Louis as hard as I could and told him Maman's message. He seemed disappointed at the news, but thanked me for telling him and then glared at Henri for his audacity. Henri retreated into an army of his friends. I didn't know what to make of him. As I went home, I heard him call out, "Pathetic bastards! Both of you!"
I broke into a run to escape the boy's taunts, most of which I didn't understand. When I got home, I must have looked upset, because Maman asked me "What's the matter?"
"A mean boy made fun of me."
"Aw, who?"
"Henri Toussaud. He said my last name wasn't familiar and I don't have an important father. He also called me a pathetic bastard." Maman looked positively mortified at this, and her hands turned to fists. Then she softened her expression.
"Here, Enjolras, let me tell you about certain people. You may find this scary now, but later, you'll find it's the way of the world...People like to think they're better than others. Henri Toussaud belongs to a very rich and famous political family. They're Royalists, and most of their money comes from their connections to wealthy nobles and the king himself. They're also cowards, quickly moving to the country during the Revolution. I'm proud to say your father and I accumulated our wealth entirely on our own, and would stand up for our values no matter what."
I was already crushed by this revelation of believed superiority in some, but Maman continued, I think unaware of the realization in my heart, or even my continued presence in the room.
"His family just does what's good for them! It doesn't surprise me that their son is a bully. They believe if your parents aren't rich and politically powerful, you don't have a place on Earth. They make me so mad! Then along with most other Royalists! Well, I need to get ready for our guests coming over today."
I stood there for such a long time before I moved again. This was so much for a five-year-old to take in. Being spoken to like an adult was odd. I didn't quite get it. All I knew was that Henri was a mean person. And a Royalist, whatever that is. I think it has something to do with being mean.
"Enjolras, get your brother at school and please tell him that he'll need to be back home by 6:00, not 8:00 like I told him. We're having company."
Louis had started school at age seven, like I would in two years. Now he was eight years old. I went to go tell him Maman's message faithfully. The school was only a few minutes away from our house, so Maman didn't mind my leaving alone. As I walked down the road through the crisp autumn air, I noticed that school had obviously let out already, since the street was filling with people coming from the school. I went in that direction, searching out Louis.
A tall child (by my five-year-old standards) boldly walked up to me.
"Who are you, squirt?" I was taken aback by his abrupt behavior. What should I say? I decided to simply state my name and be on my way.
"Enjolras Lambert." I mumbled, and started to walk away.
"Hey, get back here!" he yelled, grabbing the collar of my shirt. "You don't have a familiar last name. Have a father, squirt? If so, he's obviously not very important. I'd have heard of him if he was." He was putting on airs! Maman would hate that!
"My father's dead. Let me go!" As the boy started to say something else, a powerful voice came from behind me, calling
"Henri Toussaud! Leave my brother alone or you'll get it!" It was Louis, backed up by several of his friends, who all looked bent on Henri's destruction. I hugged Louis as hard as I could and told him Maman's message. He seemed disappointed at the news, but thanked me for telling him and then glared at Henri for his audacity. Henri retreated into an army of his friends. I didn't know what to make of him. As I went home, I heard him call out, "Pathetic bastards! Both of you!"
I broke into a run to escape the boy's taunts, most of which I didn't understand. When I got home, I must have looked upset, because Maman asked me "What's the matter?"
"A mean boy made fun of me."
"Aw, who?"
"Henri Toussaud. He said my last name wasn't familiar and I don't have an important father. He also called me a pathetic bastard." Maman looked positively mortified at this, and her hands turned to fists. Then she softened her expression.
"Here, Enjolras, let me tell you about certain people. You may find this scary now, but later, you'll find it's the way of the world...People like to think they're better than others. Henri Toussaud belongs to a very rich and famous political family. They're Royalists, and most of their money comes from their connections to wealthy nobles and the king himself. They're also cowards, quickly moving to the country during the Revolution. I'm proud to say your father and I accumulated our wealth entirely on our own, and would stand up for our values no matter what."
I was already crushed by this revelation of believed superiority in some, but Maman continued, I think unaware of the realization in my heart, or even my continued presence in the room.
"His family just does what's good for them! It doesn't surprise me that their son is a bully. They believe if your parents aren't rich and politically powerful, you don't have a place on Earth. They make me so mad! Then along with most other Royalists! Well, I need to get ready for our guests coming over today."
I stood there for such a long time before I moved again. This was so much for a five-year-old to take in. Being spoken to like an adult was odd. I didn't quite get it. All I knew was that Henri was a mean person. And a Royalist, whatever that is. I think it has something to do with being mean.