#reprinting old posts is cheating but that's Gav's way

[gavrochethegamin]

Barricade Day

((This is a repost and I am completely unashamed at admitting such. What changes I’ve made are minor and in keeping with the character for this day.))

Eponine was dead.

Running as fast as his legs could carry him the gamin did not feel the accompanying rush of joy or bounding freedom that he often associated with such journeys. Gavroche’s instinct was to put as much distance as he could between himself and his sister’s lifeless body. How could he move and breathe while she lay so unnaturally still?

I’ll never hear her sing again.

That thought spurred him on and his eyes stung, but whether it was with exertion or this new and overwhelming realization was beyond saying. His lungs blazed brightly and the agony gradually migrated into the pit of his stomach. And yet his legs moved though he wanted to do nothing but collapse.

  How often I teased her to distraction.

How often I teased her about Marius.

How often I teased her for her singing.

  All he could see was her large dark eyes and her smiling lips. All he could feel was how immeasurably vast the world seemed and how truly insignificant he was without the one person he loved above any other he ever knew. His bright star had fallen to the earth. She would be buried and his heart would follow her to the grave.

The errand was a blur. He remembered Cosette’s father giving him advice about not returning to the barricade, but by that point Gavroche was beyond listening. The ragged boy had only half heeded the well-intended advice, but he needed to return to his sister. He could not and would not abandon Eponine’s body to the ungentle mercies of the hyenas that roamed the streets; he would not see her carted off and sold as some cadaver for a rich student to rip apart. The world had finally taken everything that he valued.

I’ll be damned if they take that too.

There was nothing more the child wanted to do but to keen and shriek, but he wouldn’t allow himself that extravagance. There was no time. He was weary from the journey he had made and from the grief that sat in his bones. As the flood of exhaustion and pain began to gnaw at his soul he felt his own descent that night. He could not live without her, but he would not give up hope for his friends. They still needed him for a little while longer. He couldn’t rest. It wasn’t time.

The break of dawn brought no relief as the sun burned red and streaked the sky with a rosy haze. Gavroche didn’t often enjoy beauty for its own sake, but he was captivated by such a striking sunrise. It was only fitting that Eponine would bring such an exquisite sky to look down upon them after a wretchedly endless night of misery and rain.

The peace did not last and with the break of day the war started fresh and merciless. The people had abandoned them, but this did not surprise the gamin. He didn’t expect most of the populace to be as brave and daring as those with whom he associated. Inside the inn, the Amis were taking stock of the situation and the wild child of the streets overhead their murmurs of concern. They were running out of ammunition.

Beyond the barricade were the bodies of the fallen soldiers. Perhaps once he would have been morbidly curious about the corpses, but now they were so much meat with belongings his friends and he could use.  The boy knew what needed to be done and without asking for permission he grabbed a basket from the inn. He was willing to risk everything to save his brothers-in-arms.

Gavroche was over the barricades before any of the students could react properly. Confident in his youth, the daring boy pulled off his cap and signaled to his friends to show that he was safe even as they urgently ushered him back to the safety of their faction. Instead of words to reassure his friends he smiled and was in that moment transcendent. He was no longer of the earth and his smile was a smile of the gloriously damned.

  Watch me now Eponine. Watch me fly.

  Battle smoke still clouded the ground and covered him. He didn’t have much time, but he didn’t need much for what he was going to do. Just as he began to creep through the bodies and recover ammunition from the fallen a round of gunfire exploded around him. Unhurt, he blinked away the fear and stood up in defiance of the guard. They would not make him run in fear. He would face them bravely with scorn upon his lips.

The guardsmen met the traitor with another explosive volley, but Gavroche was unperturbed and began to sing his disdain.

  “They’re ugly a Nanterre,

It’s the fault of Voltaire;

And stupid at Palaiseau,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  He’d lost count of the shots fired at him, but his song seemed to draw more ire as another bullet sped his way and narrowly missed him. This stroke of luck caused him to become very cocky. He was fast, he was brilliant and he felt vibrant.

The mockery kept on and he reveled in the moment. The intoxication of simultaneous fear and exuberance buoyed him and brought new verses to his lips.

  “I’m no lawyer, I declare,

It’s the fault of Voltaire.

I’m nothing but a sparrow,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  How long this went on he wasn’t sure. Gavroche rode each wave like an ecstatic given some fresh insight. He could feel his sister beside him as he taunted and teased. He could feel the anxiety from his brothers and would now and then wave to them in jubilation to raise their spirits. If only they could see the world the way he did this moment of his life. The sharp colors that shown so intense that his eyes ached from the beauty. He felt each of his steps and every exhale of breath with sudden new clarity.

  “Joy is my character,

It’s the fault of Voltaire;

Misery is my trousseau,

It’s the fault of Rousseau.”

  Just as a bird learning to take flight can be cut down by a cat so too can a gamin fall and plunge to the earth. The game was drawing to its inevitable conclusion.

A well placed bullet finally caught the lad and he felt himself fall. It was a unique sensation this burning and stinging. Somewhere behind him he could hear the men on the barricade cry with one voice and it saddened him that he could not make them happier. He had failed them. He had failed his sister. But he would not fall meekly to the side or crawl back for safety. Not Gavroche. The urchin struggled to sit upright and that’s when he felt the wet covering his face. Vaguely he wondered if what he felt was merely more rain or if Eponine’s tears were washing down upon him.

  I’m coming home ‘ponine.

The worst is over.

I will never go away.

And we will be together every day.

  Those soldiers who saw him were met not with anger or bitterness but a silvery peal of laughter. The child who loved his liberty more than his life remained his own creature to the end. He had chosen this end and it was fitting that he should go away now. Even then, at his last, the final echoes of his song filled the vacated street.

  “I have fallen, I swear

It’s the fault of Voltaire,

Or else this hard blow

Has been dealt by . . .”

  A second bullet found its way home and the boy fell backward with a smile on his lips.

  One bullet for ‘ponine and another for me.

  Darkness overtook him and he stirred no more.

Gavroche woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and realizing that what he heard was the sound of his own plaintive keening.

This dream had plagued him now for a long time, but today more than ever he wished he could seek solace in any one of his friends, search out Eponine, or even settle for the cold comfort of finding his father. Anything would be better than being alone, but instead of acting the child did nothing but sing the song that haunted his dreams and curled back into the rags that served as bedding. Sleep would not fully reclaim him for it was too close to dawn, but today he’d arise with the sun and burn away these morbid dreams in the morning’s gleaming rays. Perhaps he’d even find some of the Amis or even ‘parnasse and make sure they were all well and safe.

  ((I don’t read or speak French. The translations of the song from the book I’ve used from several sources but they are not mine and I do not claim ownership of them.))