Children Shouldn't Live Like This – Chapter 14
"State your purpose!"
It was only thanks to decades of military training and similar situations that Javert was not trembling in his boots, now that he was staring down the muzzles of dozens of guns behind the hastily constructed barricade erected by the Les Amis. Javert raised his arms to declare that he was no threat. Dressed in civilian clothing, he was completely inconspicuous from the many people who lived as civilians in the city.
"I am Fabien." Javert's lie came spilling from his lips effortlessly. "On behalf of the revolution, which I support, I have spied on the military and have important information. I apologize for not informing you directly earlier."
At his words, most of the student lowered their rifles. Enjolras, however, did not.
"And what proof do you have that you're not lying straight to our faces?"
Recalling the well-memorized lie that he had tucked in his cerebral cortex, Javert spoke without hesitation.
"I have a wife who lives on the outskirts of Paris. She can testify for my actions. If I may plead to your gentlemen, let me past your barricade and allow me to inform you of the information I have gathered. I am but one man against many, and pose little threat to you."
Finally lowering his own rifle, Enjolras prayed that he wasn't making a mistake by allowing this unknown entity into their midst. Signaling to the men, a small section of the barricade was quickly cleared for Fabien's entrance. Take care to not make any mistakes at this point; Javert stepped through the barricades cautiously, watching as the men closed them as quickly as they had opened them.
Enjolras stepped down from the makeshift barricade and walked to Fabien. Recalling his face from the demonstration at city hall just days ago, Javert was aware of the fact that the man standing in front of him was without a doubt the leader amongst the rebellion. All he needed was to bide his time. One shot in the dark and he would cripple the Les Amis critically by just taking out their leader…
"What is the information that you have gathered?"
As the group of men crowded around him to listen, Javert prayed that he wouldn't slip up.
"There will be no attack tonight. They intend to starve you out…" Javert looked around at the faces that turned angry at his false revelation. "Before they start a proper fight. Only then can they concentrate their forces to hit you all when you're weakened. I also have found out that-"
"LIAR!"
All heads turning in the direction of the shout, Javert saw the person who had dared to challenge his statement, and scowled. He recognized the mischievous little street urchin whom he had caught stealing bread weeks before, and cursed inwardly.
This little imp will be my undoing!
Enjolras stepped up to Gavroche, who was now staring triumphantly down at them all from the barricades, and spoke to him.
"Gavroche, what are you saying?"
Grinning haughtily at Javert's pale face, Gavroche unfolded his arms and pointed an accusing finger in the inspector's direction.
"He's lying! He's an inspector!"
His brain telling him to make haste and escape before he was caught and properly exposed, Javert felt hands clasping threateningly around his own, restraining his escape. Turning around, he saw Courfeyrac grasping onto him tightly. The student spoke directly into his ear.
"Now, now, monsieur Fabien." Courfeyrac glared threateningly at the grey-haired man. "Let's hear what Gavroche has to say, shall we?"
Gavroche, in his usual charm and infectious jubilance, hopped off the barricades and strode superciliously towards the inspector. Without warning, he broke into cheerful song, mocking the inspector, who was now red in face, looking ready to kill him if he hadn't been restrained.
"Good evening, dear inspector
Lovely evening, my dear."
As the men watched Gavroche sing his heart out, Marius shot Enjolras a look of confusion.
"I know this man, my friends,
His name's Inspector Javert!"
As eyes widened simultaneously throughout the streets behind the barricades, the men broke out of their trance as Javert kicked Courfeyrac forcefully by thrusting his legs backwards, causing Courfeyrac to fall over painfully onto the ground. As a dozen hands fell onto him, Javert blindly swiped outwards with his fists, still hoping to take down as many of the men as he could. Above all the commotion, Gavroche continued singing.
"So don't believe a word he says,
Cause none of it's true!"
Javert stopped struggling against the unbreakable wall of wrathful men crowded around him, and threw the child another look of pure malice.
"This only goes to show
What little people can do!"
Grinning at the sight of Gavroche happily flaunting his range and the subtle reference to the song that he had once taught the boy when he had been in a drunken state, Grantaire stuck his head back into the café, shaking it, amused. Javert, in one last attempt to turn the odds in his favor, shouted out to the angry men.
"He's lying! The boy's lying! Don't listen to a-"
"You can shut your trap now, inspector." Enjolras spat out the last word maliciously. Resting a hand on Gavroche's shoulder, he flashed Gavroche a proud smile, and was responded to in kind. "Gavroche is one of us, and he doesn't lie. Not to us, anyway."
As ropes descended upon a still-struggling Javert, Enjolras knelt down to Gavroche's eye level and spoke softly to him.
"Well done, Gavroche." Enjolras slowly made his way down the barricades, still looking in Gavroche's direction. "You're the top of the class."
Blushing a little at Enjolras' praise, Gavroche responded sheepishly.
"Merci, monsieur Enjolras."
Nodding once more and striding over to the inspector, Enjolras stared into the man's eyes for an uncomfortable minute before turning to the students who had restrained him earlier, no mercy in his eyes.
"Take this man to the tavern, and make sure he's tied up good and tight!"
Grunting in affirmation at Enjolras' instruction, the men got to their feet and grabbed onto the unmasked inspector. Leaning in close to Javert, Enjolras whispered scathingly into his ear.
"The people will decide your fate, inspector Javert."
Glowering at the leader of the Les Amis, the inspector, bound and tied, was taken away by the group of students. As the men looked at Gavroche with more respect, the boy received numerous pats on the back and congratulations. Gavroche stayed silent, only speaking up to thank those that praised him, now feeling far more useful than he had been before.
"Who goes there?"
Grasping his rifle tightly in his sweaty hands, Enjolras waited a moment before shouting back a reply.
"French revolution!"
A moment of silence. Then, hell.
"FIRE!"
As gunfire was exchanged and smell of gunpowder filled the air, Gavroche fingered his pistol that rested under his coat. The sound of multiple shots being discharged was something that he had expected after learning of the students' plans, but it was also something he had not experienced before. Covering his ears and shielding his eyes from the lights that flashed from both sides of the barricade, Gavroche crouched into a ball and cringed at the traumatic spectacle in front of him.
Almost immediately, a voice in his head screamed out at him to not be cowardly, reminding him of the reasons for his salvation and the debt that he owes them. Bravely and slowly standing from where he squatted, he felt his legs trembling as he stuck his hand deep into his coat. Extracting the lethal weapon, Gavroche reached into pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets that had been provided by Grantaire just earlier.
Reciting the appropriate steps in his head, Gavroche shakily snapped the weapon open and dropped the bullets into it, hearing them clink as they fell onto each other. Snapping it shut, he braced the weapon at his side, and took one more look at the barricades.
His friends were fighting with gusto. None had fallen yet.
Spotting a handy little gap in the wood that made up the makeshift barricade, Gavroche cocked his gun and made slow steps towards it.
He would fight today.
Just as Gavroche settled down onto his spot and prepared to aim the pistol, a shout from behind him startled him, causing him to nearly discharge the weapon by mistake.
"GAVROCHE!"
Looking fearfully behind him, Gavroche spotted Enjolras, who had run back to the armory to collect more ammunition, and had spotted him proceeding to the front of the barricade. He cringed at the look on Enjolras' face, one that spelled fury and fear, a terrifying combination. Striding up to the young boy, Enjolras grabbed the back of Gavroche's coat and hoisted him to his feet, causing him to yelp in surprise. With his head, Enjolras signaled to the men who had noticed the pair to pay attention to what they had to do. He then fiercely whispered into Gavroche's ear.
"I told you that that gun was for defending yourself only!"
"I want to fight, monsieur Enjolras!"
"I said NO!"
As Gavroche struggled in his hands, Enjolras stared at the barricades and gritted his teeth as he realized that he had something far more important to do than to look after an impertinent child. Making an impromptu decision, Enjolras then hastened to put it into practice.
Grabbing onto the seat of Gavroche's pants, Enjolras hoisted the boy upwards such that he was now parallel to the ground. Ignoring his affronted yells, Enjolras walked at an alarming pace towards the café. Kicking the door open with his foot, Enjolras pulled Gavroche, who was now dragging his feet on the floor and trying to break loose, into the room.
Only Grantaire was in there, semi-conscious.
Tossing Gavroche onto the floor, Enjolras ignored his pained wince and snatched up the key that hung freely on the side of the café door. With a voice that rejected all further discussion, Enjolras spoke.
"I can't keep tabs on you all the time, Gavroche. Since you don't know how to listen, you're staying here till we're done."
Horrified, Gavroche leapt to his feet, only to be pushed into a chair by the leader of the Les Amis, who was already far beyond his threshold of tolerance for children that misbehaved. Unyielding towards Gavroche's trademark teary eyes, Enjolras turned around and strode out of the café, locking its doors firmly behind him.
Hearing the lock click, Gavroche ran forward to the door and pounded on it.
"Monsieur Enjolras! Monsieur Enjolras!"
Tightening his coat and ignoring the boy's yells, Enjolras strode back to the barricades to continue the battle. After a few more minutes of strained yelling, Gavroche gave up, collapsing on the floor next to the door in a defeated heap. Grantaire, who had been awakened by Gavroche's pounding and yelling, sat and stared at the boy.
"Why are you so eager to fight?"
Not bothering to turn and face his friend, Gavroche mumbled out a response, exhausted by all his yelling.
"I want to help them."
"You're too young to fight. You'd be throwing your life away."
"I don't want to be weak."
Hearing his words, and remembering what Courfeyrac had mentioned to him years ago about a certain incident involving Gavroche and a conversation he had with his sister, Grantaire slowly stood. Ignoring the slight pounding in his head, he snatched up his mug and trudged slowly to where Gavroche sat. Kneeling over and settling himself down onto the floor, he placed a hand on Gavroche's shoulder, and physically turned the boy to face him.
The mug was then pushed in front of Gavroche's face.
"Drink. You'll feel better."
Grasping the mug between his little fingers, Gavroche took a deep breath before tipping the glass, chugging down the remaining beer that rested within it, to Grantaire's shock and partial amusement. Now struggling to think of something to say to the depressed child, Grantaire decided to try and reassure him.
"Things will work out fine, Gavroche."
He had never been more wrong.
The battlefield was completely silent, aside from the sounds of rifle-butts touching the ground, thanks in part to Marius' threat to blow up the barricade and take himself with it, which had caused the army to retreat and return another day to fight. The silence, however, could also be attributed to the scene that was unfolding in the eyes of all that fought behind the barricades, a terrible reminder of the fate to which many of them might succumb to as the days drew past.
Enjolras and Courfeyrac, shaken by what was in front of them, could do nothing else but watch. Tossing a key stashed in his coat pocket at the man nearest to the café, Enjolras spoke solemnly.
"Let him out. Just…let him out."
The moment the door to the café was unlocked, the young boy practically flew out of it, anxious at the commotion and subsequent silence that he had from behind the door. Hastily pausing his sprint at the glum expressions on every face he saw, Gavroche looked in the direction of the dozens of eyes, and stopped short.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Taking slow steps towards the barricade, Gavroche accidentally bumped into Courfeyrac, who bent down and held onto him tightly in a partial hug. Gavroche blankly stared into his eyes, eyes that conveyed silent condolences. Even Enjolras, who was standing next to him and looking at Gavroche worriedly, didn't look angry anymore.
In shock, and still refusing to accept what his eyes stated as truth, Gavroche broke free of Courfeyrac's grip and continue stepping forward. The few men watching him stepped aside, providing a small path for him to tread upon.
"Eponine?"
Gavroche's voice sounded smaller and meeker than anyone had ever heard. A few men turned away, overcome by emotion. A few others removed their caps and held them to their chests, silently mourning their fallen friend. Gavroche took a few more steps, and stopped.
Marius sat at the foot of the barricades, cradling the body of a fallen soldier and whispering to it lovingly. A fountain of tears seemed to be rolling down Marius' cheeks as he hugged the soldier tight. As Marius shifted slightly, the soldier's face was exposed, and Gavroche's world collapsed in onto itself.
"Eponine?"
Gavroche didn't care that his voice sounded squeaky and fragile. He didn't care that he fell to his knees, skinning his kneecaps. He didn't care that he was crying in front of the same men that he had resolutely refused to show weakness in front of for so long. He didn't care about the rain that started to fall in torrents and soaked him. He didn't care about any of it. Nothing else mattered anymore.
Eponine was gone.
Gavroche didn't feel the pain that stung his knees. He didn't feel Courfeyrac's comforting hands wrapped around his torso. He only wanted to cry.
And cry he did.
As sobs gave way to wailing, Gavroche, the boy who had been forced to grow up at so young an age, became a baby yet again as his tears mixed with the sorrowful rain that fell upon the streets of Paris.
Author's Note – You'll see a stark contrast between two situations and Enjolras' treatment of Gavroche in this chapter. I think it brings out the constantly fluctuating parent-child dynamic even more. I like playing with that. Somehow I don't think my Eponine death scene was emotional enough. Comments and suggestions will be appreciated, as this is obviously not the last sad scene in the story.
In my version, Javert appears right before the battle and is singled out by Gavroche. This doesn't happen in the musical (Javert actually has time to gain the students' trust first before Gavroche finds out about him). To talk-ape, regarding your review and idea of having one of the students save Gavroche from Javert two chapters before (instead of Eponine), I considered that at first, but then I realized that it would be strange for that student to see Javert enter the barricade and not say anything about it, as I wanted the moment to remain a Gavroche-centric event.
Reviews appreciated.