Children Shouldn't Live Like This – Chapter 11
The sun had almost completely set on Paris for the day, a gleam of orange light that shrouded streets that were still, like three years before, swarming with beggars that were wandering around to find a good place to rest for the night. Merchants who were fortunate enough to own shops of their own were closing up for the evening after a relatively lukewarm day of sales, as they prayed for better times to come despite the darkness that threatened to one day completely consume their once great empire.
Panting followed the gentle but rapid patter of feet in tiny puddles as the owner of said feet dashed in the direction of a certain café. He had planned to arrive earlier at the scheduled meeting, which he had caught wind of via his own sister, who was part of the loop of information that ran through a large group of youth in Paris. However, he had spent an unexpectedly large amount of time pulling one of his younger friends, who had yet to learn how to swim, out of a pond.
The boy wasn't exactly in fantastic shape himself, but he was considered fortunate amongst the many children that populated the streets, alleys and gutters of Paris, thanks to his street-smarts, his knowledge of the city's many small passageways and his exuberant, happy-go-lucky personality that appealed very much to the many shopkeepers that graced the city. The main reason he sometimes went hungry at night was because he had shared a bowl of soup or a loaf of bread with friends who he had decided needed nourishment far more urgently than him.
Life was tough, but he was happy.
He was running late, though.
Skidding as he reached a corner and picking up pace as he increased the length of his stride, he caught sight of one of his friends closing his store for the night, a merchant whom his sister used to deliver groceries for. Beaming widely, he greeted the man whilst still jogging towards the café.
"Bonsoir, monsieur Laffont!"
"Bonsoir! Want some bread?"
"Merci, but I'm running late!"
Responding to the man's wave with one of his own, he saw the sun continue to vanish into the earth and swore under his breath. Narrowly avoiding knocking into a group of passer-bys around a corner, Gavroche willed himself to speed up.
There was no way he was going to be late for Enjolras' meeting.
The news of a meeting to discuss tentative plans for Paris' future had spread like wildfire throughout the university, thanks to the efforts of a small group of students who already subscribed to Enjolras' ideas. The first meeting, which was open to all who were interested, was scheduled to be held at the Café Musain that very evening, and had so far seen an audience of twenty that now waited for the organizer's arrival. Numbers were originally predicted to be greater, however many had decided not to attend the meeting at the last moment for fear of inciting the displeasure of the many officials that patrolled the streets.
Sipping a little alcohol to calm his jittery nerves and ensuring that his jacket was straightened out in the mirror, Enjolras pushed open the door and walked coolly into the café. At his entrance, the room immediately grew silent, a response to which Enjolras smiled at.
"Good evening, friends, and welcome."
Walking up to the chalkboard and smiling at the twenty-odd hesitant faces that stared back at him, Enjolras picked up a piece of chalk.
"Thank you for attending this meeting. Unfortunately, some of my friends were unable to make it today, so I'll have to introduce my ideas to you alone. I trust that we'll…"
Spotting a familiar impish face seated near the front of the café, Enjolras trailed off his words, not expecting the boy to be present in the first place.
"Er…Gavroche?"
Realizing that he was being addressed, and that he was currently attracting the attention of the entire group of twenty men around twice his age and size, Gavroche puffed up his chest and responded with gusto.
"Yes, monsieur Enjolras?"
Now sweating a little at the unexpected interruption, Enjolras used his sleeve to wipe off his forehead. The men gathered in the café stared curiously at the pint-sized boy amongst them. Random chatter started to sound out from the back of the café.
"What…what are you doing here? It's Wednesday, our history lesson is tomorrow."
"I know, monsieur Enjolras!" Gavroche piped up cheerfully. "I wanted to listen to your ideas!"
Feeling significantly less confident as compared to when he had first stepped into the café, Enjolras knelt down to Gavroche's eye level and smiled at the boy sheepishly, inciting a grin in return.
"Thanks for your enthusiasm, Gavroche, but…I don't think what we're going to speak about is, well…appropriate for children."
Gavroche's face fell, only to be replaced by a pout of indignation.
"I'm not a child!"
"No, no, I'm sure you're not…" Enjolras placed a hand on Gavroche's shoulder, trying to pacify him. "I'm just saying that-"
"Good grief, Enjolras, just let him listen. What harm will it do?"
Simultaneously, all eyes turned to the table where the voice had rang out from. Placing his beer back onto the table, Grantaire turned lazily to Enjolras.
"You're talking about plans for revolution, not about sex, bad language or other nitty-gritty things. Why shouldn't Gavroche be allowed to listen? Isn't that right, Gavroche?"
Nodding his head eagerly, Gavroche gleefully agreed with his supporter.
"Oui, monsieur Grantaire!"
Frowning at Grantaire's interjection, Enjolras tried to make his point.
"Revolution is a serious thing. It involves war, arms and potentially death. I don't think that such subject matter is even remotely appropriate for children."
Immediately, the room burst into hubbub and expressions of disapproval and disagreement. One of Enjolras' friends, who sat at the front row, raised his hand.
"Er…Enjolras, though you have good intentions and all…didn't Marius and Courfeyrac state that anybody was allowed to attend this meeting?"
A chorus of agreement rang out amongst the students. Realizing that he was losing control of the slightly rambunctious crowd, Enjolras raised both his hands imploringly.
"All right! All right! If I could just have some silence!"
As the loud conversation died down, Enjolras pursed his lips and looked back down at Gavroche, who stared back with innocent eyes and a pleading expression.
"All right, Gavroche…" Enjolras sighed and prayed that he was making the right decision. "You can stay and listen."
His eyes practically sparkling with joy, Gavroche ecstatically threw both his arms around Enjolras' torso, knocking the wind out of him a little.
"Merci, monsieur Enjolras!"
Blushing a little at the boy's sudden show of affection and the chorus of "aws" that rang throughout the tiny café, Enjolras awkwardly petted Gavroche's head before the boy practically pranced back to his seat, waiting eagerly for him to start. Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, Enjolras stared once more at the now silent crowd and began his plans for the evening. His presence resonated throughout the entire room as he spoke.
"As I was saying, there is a lot to be covered over the next hour or so, so I trust that I'll have everyone's attention…"
As the smatterings of appreciative applause and loud discussions gradually died down, Gavroche remained in his seat, still staring up at Enjolras in complete awe as the man erased his chalkboard and shook the hands of men who congratulated him on an excellent talk and meeting. Gavroche had always known that Enjolras was the most eloquent and intelligent of the few students he had actually gotten to know, but he never imagined that Enjolras' manner of speech could be that infectious.
Just an hour after Enjolras had begun his speech, Gavroche felt like he really did want to stand up for his fellow men.
Hopping off his stool and running to the chalkboard, which was in the process of being erased, Gavroche tugged on Enjolras' coat sleeve to get his attention.
"That was an incredible talk, monsieur Enjolras!"
Looking at the enthusiastic expression on the boy's face, Enjolras couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you, Gavroche. I'm glad you liked it. Have you eaten dinner yet?"
Ignoring Gavroche's adamant and immediate refusal of Enjolras' offer to buy him food, Enjolras turned to the nearby waitress and ordered two meals for the both of them. Three years into his time on the streets, Gavroche was still as stubborn with regards to accepting gifts and charity as he had been before, to the point that the students realized the only way to get him to accept anything was to place it in front of him and refuse to entertain his declining of their goodwill.
There was, of course, another genuine reason for Enjolras' generosity aside from his appreciation of Gavroche's presence in his meeting. Judging by Gavroche's still small size and how his blue coat hung loosely about his shoulders, Enjolras could tell that he wasn't eating nearly enough. The students had heard stories retold by Eponine about how he would successfully obtain food from merchants, but would later give nearly all of it to his malnourished friends. This behavior had gained him many chums, but did nothing for his physical growth.
Guiding Gavroche, who was still protesting valiantly over Enjolras' order, to Grantaire's table via a hand on his back, Enjolras pulled up a seat and sat down wearily, tired but satisfied over the minor success of the night. Grantaire caught his eye, and grinned.
"Nice work."
"Thanks." Recalling what Grantaire had said to him days ago, Enjolras frowned. "Why are you here anyway? You said that you weren't interested in revolution."
"I'm not interested in revolution…but I'm here to support you as a friend. Besides, you're pretty entertaining."
"Thanks, I guess…" Enjolras paid the waitress who had returned with their meals, and pushed the steaming bowl of salubrious Bouillabaisse in front of Gavroche. Mouth already watering at the overwhelmingly delectable aroma that came pouring forth from the bowl, Gavroche gritted his teeth and stared up at Enjolras stubbornly, still adamant about not taking food for free.
Enjolras merely shrugged and dug into his own bowl of Pot au Feu with vigor, completely ignoring Gavroche's frown.
With hunger battling against pride, Gavroche continued staring spitefully at the bowl of stew that lay waiting for his consumption. As the heavenly scent drifted into his nostrils, Gavroche could feel his defense crumbling into pieces. Hunger finally defeating pride, Gavroche picked up his spoon and dug into the Bouillabaisse, devouring it with unrestrained voracity.
Enjolras and Grantaire both grinned.
"I'm still not interested in revolution, by the way." Enjolras rolled his eyes as he nodded to acknowledge Grantaire's comment. "However, I need to ask…you talked about writing in to Lamarque and sending a petition in to the ministry. What if all that doesn't pan out?"
Without missing a beat, Enjolras took another bite of beef before responding.
"We bear arms."
"Ah."
Hearing Enjolras' words, Gavroche set down his spoon and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, before turning in his seat and facing the student.
"Can I take part in your plans, monsieur Enjolras?"
Frowning, Enjolras set down his own utensils and stared at Gavroche. There wasn't a trace of humor in his serious eyes.
"Absolutely not."
"But…"
"But nothing. And Grantaire, don't try and speak up for him again. This goes far beyond just listening in into our plans."
Pursing his lips, Grantaire raised his glass and sipped from it, silently acknowledging Enjolras' point.
"Listen to me, Gavroche. This isn't a game that we're playing. This is serious business, revolution. People will get hurt, and some might die. The last thing we need is to get innocent children involved in this."
"But monsieur Enjolras, I'm not a-"
"I don't want to hear it, Gavroche!" Raising his voice, Enjolras saw Gavroche shrink a little into his coat and forced himself to harden his heart despite the guilt billowing in his chest, for the sake of protecting the boy's welfare. "You can listen all you want, but I will not compromise your safety or your life. And don't try to give me those eyes." Enjolras immediately disregarded the tiny trace of angry tears that were pooling in Gavroche's wide eyes. "It's for your own good."
Turning away from the boy and returning to his own bowl of food, Enjolras picked up his spoon and tried to ignore the glare that Gavroche was shooting him from the side. Staring between the two seated at his table, Grantaire set down his mug and spoke gently to Gavroche.
"Gavroche, finish your food."
Gavroche stubbornly folded his arms and stared down at the ground, huffing and pouting.
"I don't want it anymore."
"Don't be silly. Eat up, I know you're hungry." Enjolras scowled sternly as he chastised the boy. "I'm still your friend, Gavroche, you can count on that. It's just that when it comes to matters to do with the revolution, I would prefer if you didn't get yourself involved and into trouble. Now finish the food."
Grudgingly, Gavroche picked up the spoon yet again and pushed it into the stew. A small smile emerged on Enjolras' face, which he hid from Gavroche's view.
"Before we leave, remind me to buy some bread for your friends. Since it's for them and not for you, that should be okay, right?"
"…merci, monsieur Enjolras."
"You're welcome."
As the trio ate and drank in relative silence, Enjolras told himself to be more careful when talking about the revolution around Gavroche in the future, and to remind himself to speak to Marius, Joly and Courfeyrac about the matter. He knew that Gavroche would definitely try to involve himself in a matter far larger than his tiny, undernourished stature, and potentially put himself in grave danger when a situation arises.
Children shouldn't live like that.
Author's Note – And welcome all to part two of my little novella. I missed out on any opportunity to showcase a proper parent-child situation in the first ten chapters, therefore I decided to have one here between Enjolras and Gavroche. Did I pull that off okay? Do tell me about it. I also thought it'd be nice to do another title reference to start off part two, hopefully it didn't seem out of place.
Part two will be proceeding at a relatively more accelerated pace compared to part one. I'll be skipping between events instead of a solid timeline, and occasionally making references to what occurs in the musical. As I stated in the Author's Note for Chapter 1, I might change details of the original story if I find it suits my storytelling (redramatization and all that), but I'll try to avoid it as far as possible to keep everyone happy.
Reviews appreciated.