Sometimes there is a moment of silence which seems like a year. The people involved stare, each searching desperately for something to say, but none find a satisfying answer. Time slows. Have they been staring at each other for a second, or a day? Each one fears to make their position worse by whatever they try to say. None know what to say. Such was the case with Eponine and Azelma on Gavroche's comment.
Eponine felt the uncontrollable desire to argue, to crush his sudden idea. She did not wish to go to Montfermeil, and was astonished that he would want such a thing. Was this not her brother? The gamin of Paris, who knew every paving stone of every alleyway and street of the area? He, who had managed to keep himself alive on the streets for all these years without once having a proper job? For Eponine and Azelma, the days now were unpredictable. There was no purpose, no reason to be out here, other than that unexplained wariness Eponine had suddenly felt of her home, of her life in Paris. It was the feeling, the imagination, that something was about to draw her in, and get her caught up in a doomed path which she would never escape. She had fled from that fate. She had no idea of what she would be doing a few days from now. She did not even know, anymore, what the purpose of her existence was.
For Gavroche, this was simply a normal day. He had lived in this way for years, and knew his pattern and his place in life. So why was it that he of all of them wanted to leave?
"Montfermeil?" Eponine's tone was one of disbelief. When he gave no reply, she laughed casually and said, "For a moment there I thought you serious. Montfermeil! You returning there! Just think of that!"
She gave her brother a nudge, which was slightly more than gentle. She struggled to hide any sign of seriousness or belief in either her voice or her face. Gavroche grinned, and began to sing. The tune was jolly, and his eyes sparkled as he sung.
"Oh, he does tease," Eponine announced, "Well, I guess we best get on with our walking. You mustn't lie about what you want to do, it could get us worried," she pressed on.
Gavroche ignored Eponine's remarks, and spoke to Azelma, "so, what do you say?" he glanced at Eponine, before continuing, "how about we see the old place?"
Azelma shifted uneasily. Eponine interrupted, "Oh, what a wicked child! Such ambition, for one who does not have one clue of what he's talking about. He knows nothing of what he means, he doesn't."
Azelma said nothing. An argument between her brother and sister would be hard enough, but now they were attempting to pull her into the middle of it. As for herself, she did not particularly want to return to Montfermeil, but neither could she think of anything else to do. She breathed slowly. In, then out. She looked at Gavroche. He was staring up at her intently, and from the look of it meant to kick Eponine some time soon. Eponine had planted her feet firmly onto the stones of the street, and was looking intently at her. In one of her hands she was squeezing a small part of her skirt, and the soaked material occasionally dripped a drop of water as she twisted it tighter. She was tense, but there was something about her posture, the way her eyes occasionally drifted away into a mist of fear, that made Azelma realise what she was thinking of. Azelma saw in Eponine a reflection of herself, or what she imagined herself to look like, when she though of Montfermeil. It was a mixture of fear and confusion, as if what she remembered she wished she could forget.
Azelma remembered a spring day in Montfermeil, almost ten years ago. She saw the garden of the chop house, where she had lived. The overgrown grass was damp from the rain during the night. The Lark was standing on the lawn, and probably should have been working in one way or another, or doing a chore for Azelma and Eponine's mother. The tiny, frail girl had stopped, though. She was staring intently at the ground, and when Azelma looked she saw a daisy. It was one of many daisies now growing on the lawn, among the rubbish and rust which had been thoughtlessly dumped outside. The Lark bent down and reached out towards the daisy in front of her. By now Eponine had come onto the lawn, and she too had seen the daisy. She liked flowers, and she wanted to hold and touch it. She walked towards the Lark, who now clutched the daisy within her tiny fingers, now wet from the grass. Eponine attempted to pry the daisy out of the Lark's hand, and when the girl refused to let go she snatched at it and hit her hand. The flower fell crumpled to the ground, and Eponine stared at the petals. Now she would never get to hold the daisy. She hit the Lark's hand. The Lark backed away, and thrust her arm into Eponine's in a reaction of defence. She let out a scream, and pushed hard against the Lark. Azelma turned at the sound of footsteps; their mother had entered the scene, and she now knew how this would end.
By the time Eponine's mother reached the two girls, their skirts were soaked, and mud coated their legs. In Eponine's case, the mud had splattered from the ground; in the Lark's, the mud had been smudged onto her legs by Eponine's kicks. Madame Thenardier lifted up her child, and left the Lark whimpering on the ground. A passer by called from across the fence, looking sternly at the large woman holding the child.
"Have you no shame, madame? Children should not be able to scream and fight like wild animals."
Eponine looked at the man, a slight grin on her face. But then she realised that the man had not been talking about the Lark.
Now, Azelma looked at the teenage girl glaring. She was at a loss for words. She had originally agreed to go with Eponine, but she did not want to upset her brother either. She swallowed, and then spoke carefully, "Well, first think of why we'd go to Montfermeil. I don't understand why you would want to go, but—"
Gavroche shouted furiously, "I told ya. Why not go where all the fuss is, and see what makes these people squirm. If it were any other place I'd still want to go. Why let the name of the place scare you? It will be just like any other old village, I tell you. You'd go if it wasn't Montfermeil," and with that, he stamped his foot on the ground.
Eponine laughed, and raised her voice. "You think I'm a fool? I don't care what the name is," Azelma saw a slight hint of a shudder after these words, "there's disease there, the man said. Doesn't sound like a nice place to go."
"After Paris? You don't really care 'bout that. Sure, it don't sound like a nice place, but then nowhere is a nice place," Gavroche suddenly paused, and blinked. "What am I saying? I never was with anyone before. I'll go by myself. Well, here I go."
He turned, and strolled away from them. Eponine and Azelma stared, but made no move. Eponine glared at him, and Azelma was too shocked to do anything. He reached the first street he could turn into, and turned. They waited, and within a minute he had disappeared from view. Eponine shrugged, as if shrugging out of a dream.
"He's goin' back to his normal place."
Azelma replied quietly, "I guess. He's not going anywhere without us, is he? All that talk, all that complaining, and now he's not bothered to go."
A sudden surge of annoyance, strong enough that it may have been anger, came over her. "What'll we do?"
Eponine breathed deeply. He would vanish back into the streets of Paris, now. The past day she had spent with him had been different. He had felt different. Always in Paris he had been simply an obscure child, living his own life, and stayed entirely separate from her life. Only on rare occasions had he skimmed across the outskirts of her life, and reminded her that he was still alive, before disappearing once more. Every time he left, she had wondered if it would be the last time she would see him. Then she would be pulled back into her own life, and forget about him as she performed the next task for her parents. She always thought of Azelma as her sister. Someone would ask her whether she had any brothers or sisters, and she would answer "I have a sister". It would only occur to her afterwards that she had a brother, too. Throughout the past day he had been real. The last time she had really spent a full day with him had been in… it had been in Montfermeil. Now he had disappeared again, and she did not know what to do. After leaving her home, she had always imagined the three of them travelling together. Then she realised what had just passed through her mind. Travelling. That was what she really wanted to do with her time. Before her life, this odd time to be spent away from her home, had been far off in the distance. She had not understood what she was going to do with herself, but now she knew what she was going to do. She was going to travel.
