Chapter 8. Who's Gonna Come Around When You Break
"who's gonna pick you up
when you fall
who's gonna hang it up
when you call
who's gonna pay attention
to your dreams
who's gonna plug their ears
when you scream
you can't go on
thinking nothing's wrong
who's gonna drive you home tonight"
(Drive, The Cars)
In the middle of the night Éponine woke up and found herself staring at the ceiling. The moonlight shone directly through the window to where she was lying. At first she did not know why she was awake, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Éponine shifted around but her eyes somehow still managed to spring open against her will.
Suddenly she understood. Usually she did not go to sleep until after 3. She left the Maxim when it was barely midnight. Enjolras's bed was also very comfortable, too comfortable, too soft, too warm.
You are so picky, she cursed under her breath. Éponine figured that there was no use trying to sleep again, so she rose up from and bed and wrap the blanket around herself to keep warm. Seeing the light peaking through the door crack underneath, Éponine sneakily opened the door and casted a glance upon where Enjolras was sitting, still looking through the papers and jotted down some notes every once in a while. She carefully slipped through the door crack and sat down on the couch.
"Go back to sleep Éponine." Not turning back, Enjolras ordered.
"You should stop working so late at night." She ignored his command. "It's bad for your health. Young men like you should rest well."
"You should stop running in and out of the café at Marius's every whim." Enjolras muttered. "It doesn't do you any good, and it distracts Marius greatly."
"Excuse me?"
He turned around to face her. "Normally I don't give matters like this too much attention. Joly and Bossuet have their mistress. Courfeyrac is a skirtchaser. Bahorel is pinning after one mademoiselle too. I think it's a nuisance, but I don't condemn them. You and Marius, on the other hand, are almost unhealthily obsessed. Marius is too occupied with Colette –"
"Cosette." She corrected him.
"It doesn't matter." He disregarded her. "He doesn't care about anything else."
"Yes he does." Éponine felt the heat rising from her chest to her neck. "Marius is an honest, hard-working, genuine man who earns his own living…"
"You're straying from the topic Mademoiselle Éponine." It was Enjolras's turn to correct her.
"What I'm trying to say is…" she sighed. "He isn't some rich bourgeosie who idly sits all day dreaming and romancing. Marius works very hard and he lives simply. It is only right that he is infatuated one day." She casted her eyes down. "Monsieur Enjolras, I'm afraid you don't know what it's like to be in love."
"Yes I do." He confirmed. "My love is for France."
"And will you tell me you don't obsess over her also?" she questioned. "Will you tell me you don't spend every waking minute thinking about her? You don't stay awake at night because of her? You're not willing to do anything just for her?"
Enjolras was silent. Éponine smiled sympathetically.
"See Monsieur? You're not so different from Marius. Your object of affection is perhaps more abstract than Marius's, but to me it's all the same."
"Why are you defending him so passionately?" It was his turn to question. "What do you get out of it?"
She had not uttered a word to anybody about her feelings for Marius, but they did not have to spell it out. It was clear as daylight to everybody, though Marius was a blind man. At that particular moment, she understood and he understood, and she understood that he understood, that she loved Marius deeply and unconditionally, that her love for Marius surpassed any of Joly's, Bossuet's or Courfeyrac's accomplishment.
"You of all people should know Monsieur Enjolras." She did not hesitate to throw a sharp answer at him. "France will not return your love, not that you can feel it directly. Why do you try so hard then? It is the sensation of pleasing your beloved. When I see Marius happy, I am also happy knowing that I contributed to his happiness. Besides, if I can still be of use to him in any way I am glad."
Enjolras seemed to find this logic rather sad as he shook his head lightly.
"You are capable of so much more than Marius's pigeon, Éponine. I'd hate to see you waste your potential."
"I'd like to use my potential in ways that I deem suitable for myself, thank you." She answered coldly.
Enjolras did not answer. Éponine stood up and strolled to the window. She looked down at the street below, her face suddenly dreamy. "I remember the day I first met Monsieur Marius."
"Of course you do." Enjolras rolled his eyes but Éponine ignored him.
"He gave me five francs out of his pocket even though he hardly had any money left. No one had ever been so kind, so respectful to me." Éponine smiled. "He even let me touch his books. And he is such a pretty boy, he is. We've become good friends ever since. Aside from Marius, I don't have anyone else quite so kind to me."
"That is an exaggeration." He mumbled under his breath but Éponine could not hear him. She continued, rather excitedly.
"Monsieur Enjolras, I have been thinking about my dream ever since you asked me, but the more I thought about it, the more wretched I am knowing that it can never come true. Why did you ever plant the thought in my head?"
"Mademoiselle Éponine," he was only too glad the subject had shifted. "I know it seems hard, but you must not lose hope in the future and be defeated. The best is yet to come."
"Is it?" she asked. "Is it really? I've seen Maman, I've seen Papa, and I don't want to end up like them. Oh, it's too shameful to think of! I'm only too glad that Gavroche is with you and Les Amis. He's a good boy, he can take care of himself, and you and your friends are decent men. Nothing like the sort of people my family associate with."
"I will try my best to take care of Gavroche." He nodded. "And I promise you, Mademoiselle Éponine, I and my friends will think of a way to better your life."
"I don't expect too much Monsieur." She smiled. "It's quite all right, your friends don't like me that much, and you shouldn't have to bother yourself with my problems."
"Don't be so self-deprecating. Combeferre thinks highly of you, and I think after tonight, you'll realize that Courfeyrac cares about you also."
"But what about you?"
He sighed, for he had foreseen it coming. "I care about the people of France."
"Ah, clever answer. You're a clever boy Monsieur." She smiled.
"Don't think too much Éponine, and go back to sleep, I insist." Enjolras sighed, realizing he had wasted much more time than he intended.
"Will you go to sleep soon?" she asked, her face concerned.
"Yes, after you." He lied to assure her. "Besides, both of us won't get any sleep if we stay up all night talking nonsense."
"Yes you're right, as always." She smiled and headed towards the bedroom.
When Enjolras woke up in the morning, he was still sitting on the chair with his head on the desk. He must have fallen asleep while working. What struck his surprise was the blanket draping over his shoulder, keeping him warm all night. Enjolras shrugged off the blanket and tossed it over the couch nearby. He stood up and saw the door to his bedroom flinging wide open. The room was empty. Enjolras strolled to the dining room only to find a simple breakfast laid out on the table for him: two toasts, a giant omelette, a small stick of butter and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. There was a note for him on the table. It read:
"Madame Lafleur told me you often skipped breakfast so I cooked you some. Please eat, you've worked all night and you barely slept. You need to take good care of yourself, you've got a revolution going on. Thank you for letting me stay last night.
E."
He wondered if she had slept at all last night. He wondered when she had left, and whether she had gone home to the brothel, to be touched by stranger's hands again. He wondered while she was cooking for him, had she anything to eat at all this morning. The thought made him sad in an unexplainable way.
That night when Enjolras came to café Musain later than usual, he was caught off guard by a strange event. People were surrounding a particular table, cheering and hollering loudly. Enjolras walked over and saw a disturbing scene: Grantaire and Éponine facing each other with a bottle of whiskey by each side. There was little left in both bottles. Grantaire seemed even drunker than usual, if such a thing was possible, he was practically lying on the table and was barely speaking coherently; while Éponine's face was very pale.
"What is this?" Enjolras knitted his eyebrows, asking Courfeyrac.
"A drinking contest." Answered Courfeyrac. "Grantaire could not turn the offer down."
"How is this fair for Éponine? She is small and thin while Grantaire is a strong, well-fed grown man." Enjolras shook his head.
"I think you need to stop underestimating Éponine's capacity Enjolras." Bahorel chimed in. "Look at Grantaire, he has practically lost already, he just needs to accept it."
"How do you do Monsieur Grantaire?" Éponine asked sarcastically.
"Terrific Mademoiselle Éponine." He grumbled. "Never been better."
"Good." She smiled, but anyone could see how much effort she was putting in to keep her back straight. "Are you down for another round?"
"Why not?"
They both poured whiskey into a small glass then tossed it back in a gulp while everyone cheered. Enjolras winced. The reason he never drank was because he was terrible at holding his drink, he knew he would get drunk very easily, yet these two were drinking like no tomorrow.
"Should they even be drinking right now?" He questioned. "Grantaire is always drunk and nobody should encourage him, and I must say I expected more from Éponine."
"We couldn't let it pass Enjolras." Answered Bossuet. "This is truly intriguing, a grisette challenging one of us men. I am torn between feeling amused and threatened."
While they were conversing, Grantaire dropped his head on the table then made no sound, while Éponine's face was suddenly devoid of any emotions and her gaze seemed unfixed, like she was staring into nothing.
"Grantaire!" exclaimed Jehan worriedly. "My friend! Are you alright?"
"Let me see." Joly pushed through the crowd to get to Grantaire. Pulling Grantaire's eyelids upward, he examined the white eyeball then announced. "He is unconscious."
The crowd roared with such thunderous noise that Enjolras had to cover his ears. Courfeyrac left Enjolras's side to pat on Éponine's back. She smiled sheepishly while the boys cheered for her.
"Great job Mademoiselle Éponine!" howled Bossuet. "You made a fool out of all us men."
Éponine leaned back against the chair. "As the great Clytemnestra had once declared over the corpse of Agamemnon 'I killed him, struck him down. I don't deny it! The deed is done, I'm proud of it!' " she laughed triumphantly.
"Hello Monsieur Enjolras." Éponine giggled when she saw him, barely able to contain herself. "How are you doing? Still staying up all night writing those speeches? Why don't you join me for a drink?"
Enjolras meanwhile was poking Grantaire to make sure that his friend was still breathing. "Better not Mademoiselle Éponine. Frankly I'm a bit disappointed in all of you."
"Oh, you're always so serious Monsieur." She grumbled. "Mademoiselle this Mademoiselle that. Loosen up a bit will ya? I'd like to see those beautiful lips of yours smile once before I die."
She fell into a pit of uncontrollable giggles while he blushed and mumbled under his breath. "Éponine you're obviously very drunk. I don't think you should come home alone in this state."
"I can take care of myself." She waved impatiently.
"I think Enjolras is right Mademoiselle Éponine." Said Courfeyrac. "You surely must not want to go home tonight."
"I never want to go home." She laughed bitterly. "Too many people. Too noisy. Maman will yell at me again."
"Enjolras, do you mind…?" whispered Courfeyrac, gesturing at Éponine.
"Frankly I'd feel much better so no." Catching his best friend's intention, Enjolras quickly replied. "And I think it's best if we bring Grantaire along as well. I don't think he will be safe on his own, not after this."
With the assistant of Combeferre, Courfeyrac managed to drag Grantaire back to Enjolras's apartment nearby. Enjolras carried Éponine over his shoulder despise her resistance, she was too drunk to put up a fight anyway. Once Éponine and Grantaire were both put in bed and carefully tucked in, Joly stopped by to give Enjolras some advice.
"When they wake up in the morning, make sure that they drink a lot of water. Get them something light to eat. If you can Enjolras, check on them every once in a while. They might choke on their own vomit during sleep."
"Fantastic." He moaned.
Joly patted his back and started walking towards the door along with Courfeyrac. "Taking care of others is never easy. I'm going home now, Musichetta must be waiting for me."
"Send her my greetings." Enjolras nodded and closed the door. He sighed heavily and spoke to Combeferre, who was also preparing to leave. "What in heaven's name were they thinking? Was this Grantaire's idea?"
"Actually no, it was Mademoiselle Éponine's idea." Combeferre smiled. "She was very impressive."
"Not you too Combeferre."
"Act grumpy all you want, Enjolras, but you must admit this girl is quite remarkable." Combeferre opened the door. "Honestly I don't think you do her justice. I know you're worried about her…"
"Who said I was?" Enjolras said defensively.
"…Sometimes." Combeferre finished his sentence. "It's easy to see why. She is obviously not well taken care of, and I know you like feeling responsible for other's well-being, but you must understand that Mademoiselle Éponine is not a helpless damsel in distress. She is, in fact, quite capable of taking care of herself, and quite smart also."
"I know." He put a hand to his forehead. "Believe me, I did not mean to belittle her in any way. But she lives a very questionable life."
"Then you will have to learn to trust her." Combeferre smiled knowledgeably.
"Since when are you an expert about Mademoiselle Éponine?" Enjolras questioned.
"Who said I was?" Combeferre grinned. "Good night Enjolras."
"Good night Combeferre."
What Éponine didn't foresee and Enjolras could not predict, was that this night was going into history of the Les Amis. That Éponine's victory gained her the ultimate respect and acceptance to the boys' club, and they would still mention it after a very long time, with good humor and lively banter. But more about that later.