"The Shadow Discovers the Wind"
For a very long time, Samuel just walked. He wasn't sure yet how all this walking was going to help him become less a child, but when he thought about it, seeing everything he could might well do a lot. There were a thousand things to see, too; awful things and things that made him smile.
He didn't talk to anyone any more than just saying 'excuse me' when he slipped through a crowd. He felt absolutely free, knowing no one and not belonging to anyone here. He was all his own and everything he did was all his own decision. And of course, he had a small change-purse in another pocket inside his coat pocket, and therefore the means to stay out all evening.
The place he was walking wasn't the slums--he had no intention of going there--but it wasn't a good part of the city, either. That made the people, in his opinion, fifty times more interesting.
He looked all about, and his gaze passed over a small crowded market and rested on a young woman buying bread. She wore a very thin, worn sort of dress that was still quite clean. It was also brown, which he thought unflattering. She had a small child at her heels, and a basket on her arm, and he liked her appearance without even realising it. If she wasn't so dreadfully thin, she would have made a good model for a painting of ideal peasant life. He could just imagine someone using her to pretend being poor was romantic.
He looked elsewhere, and studied a man this time. He was bent and ugly, and his hair was brown and wiry. He was very old, and yet he seemed good-natured. Samuel watched as a younger man came up to him, and rather expected the old man to make a quip and cuff him affectionately. To the shock of both the younger man and Samuel, however, the old man swore and struck the former.
"Get the hell out of here, you little bastard!" he cried.
Samuel winced and turned away. To his extreme surprise, he found he had just crashed into Feuilly.
"Enjolras! What the devil?"
Samuel smiled weakly. "Bonsoir, Feuilly. I've just been walking here. I beg your pardon."
"Don't bother. You're apt to get lost here, though. It's confusing if you don't know it, and I rather think you don't."
"No, I don't," Samuel admitted.
Feuilly's black eyes glittered. He was observing Samuel quietly, and appeared to be considering him. This was to Samuel's discomfort, as it made Feuilly seem even more detached and solemn.
At last Feuilly nodded. "You're welcome to have dinner with my family."
Samuel was delighted.
He had spent the entire day being surprised by one thing or another, and his final surprise was when the young woman who had been buying bread joined them.
"This is my wife," Feuilly said, looking away. "Manon, this is Enjolras, whom I have told you about. I've done you a disservice by inviting him to dinner without warning. I hope that doesn't create too much trouble."
"No. Bread is down two sous, and potatoes down one. I've bought extra anyway." She was carrying her son now, as well as the basket. To Samuel's relief, he was quiet. Manon turned to Samuel, and smiled. "Isn't he a handsome man, Justin?" she told her son. "Smile for him."
The child didn't smile. However, he did stare straight at Samuel with Feuilly's black eyes.
~~~
Dinner was full of meaningless conversation, but Samuel enjoyed it terribly. It was a sort of beautiful meaningless conversation, and it belonged under Feuilly's little roof and around his little table. Too, it wasn't meaningless in a superficial way--it was just all made up of things that didn't matter so much. Feuilly and Manon talked softly about the price of different things, and Manon invited Samuel into the conversation by asking him about the college he went to. He tried to describe the professors to her, which made her laugh. They never once mentioned revolution. They never once mentioned unrest or oppression. It was a conversation that was essentially theirs, but so unspecific to the world around them that anyone anywhere might have had it, and Samuel loved every moment of it. For the first time in two years, he felt as though he didn't even have to be Dimitri. It was the sort of conversation that invited anyone, and Samuel fit into it just as well as Dimitri would.
Before he left, he told Feuilly and Manon that he had never had so enjoyable an evening, and they, of course, thought it was only a pleasantry.
For a very long time, Samuel just walked. He wasn't sure yet how all this walking was going to help him become less a child, but when he thought about it, seeing everything he could might well do a lot. There were a thousand things to see, too; awful things and things that made him smile.
He didn't talk to anyone any more than just saying 'excuse me' when he slipped through a crowd. He felt absolutely free, knowing no one and not belonging to anyone here. He was all his own and everything he did was all his own decision. And of course, he had a small change-purse in another pocket inside his coat pocket, and therefore the means to stay out all evening.
The place he was walking wasn't the slums--he had no intention of going there--but it wasn't a good part of the city, either. That made the people, in his opinion, fifty times more interesting.
He looked all about, and his gaze passed over a small crowded market and rested on a young woman buying bread. She wore a very thin, worn sort of dress that was still quite clean. It was also brown, which he thought unflattering. She had a small child at her heels, and a basket on her arm, and he liked her appearance without even realising it. If she wasn't so dreadfully thin, she would have made a good model for a painting of ideal peasant life. He could just imagine someone using her to pretend being poor was romantic.
He looked elsewhere, and studied a man this time. He was bent and ugly, and his hair was brown and wiry. He was very old, and yet he seemed good-natured. Samuel watched as a younger man came up to him, and rather expected the old man to make a quip and cuff him affectionately. To the shock of both the younger man and Samuel, however, the old man swore and struck the former.
"Get the hell out of here, you little bastard!" he cried.
Samuel winced and turned away. To his extreme surprise, he found he had just crashed into Feuilly.
"Enjolras! What the devil?"
Samuel smiled weakly. "Bonsoir, Feuilly. I've just been walking here. I beg your pardon."
"Don't bother. You're apt to get lost here, though. It's confusing if you don't know it, and I rather think you don't."
"No, I don't," Samuel admitted.
Feuilly's black eyes glittered. He was observing Samuel quietly, and appeared to be considering him. This was to Samuel's discomfort, as it made Feuilly seem even more detached and solemn.
At last Feuilly nodded. "You're welcome to have dinner with my family."
Samuel was delighted.
He had spent the entire day being surprised by one thing or another, and his final surprise was when the young woman who had been buying bread joined them.
"This is my wife," Feuilly said, looking away. "Manon, this is Enjolras, whom I have told you about. I've done you a disservice by inviting him to dinner without warning. I hope that doesn't create too much trouble."
"No. Bread is down two sous, and potatoes down one. I've bought extra anyway." She was carrying her son now, as well as the basket. To Samuel's relief, he was quiet. Manon turned to Samuel, and smiled. "Isn't he a handsome man, Justin?" she told her son. "Smile for him."
The child didn't smile. However, he did stare straight at Samuel with Feuilly's black eyes.
~~~
Dinner was full of meaningless conversation, but Samuel enjoyed it terribly. It was a sort of beautiful meaningless conversation, and it belonged under Feuilly's little roof and around his little table. Too, it wasn't meaningless in a superficial way--it was just all made up of things that didn't matter so much. Feuilly and Manon talked softly about the price of different things, and Manon invited Samuel into the conversation by asking him about the college he went to. He tried to describe the professors to her, which made her laugh. They never once mentioned revolution. They never once mentioned unrest or oppression. It was a conversation that was essentially theirs, but so unspecific to the world around them that anyone anywhere might have had it, and Samuel loved every moment of it. For the first time in two years, he felt as though he didn't even have to be Dimitri. It was the sort of conversation that invited anyone, and Samuel fit into it just as well as Dimitri would.
Before he left, he told Feuilly and Manon that he had never had so enjoyable an evening, and they, of course, thought it was only a pleasantry.