What Little People Know (Gavroche)

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

When Mylene first had woken up today, she had not been sure whether she had been dreaming.All of what had happened yesterday felt so … weird and inexplainable to remember, it was a mass of so many memories assaulting her mind the minute she had opened her eyes that she had not been sure what to believe. Only the entry in her journal she had completed before going to bed, her own scrawny handwriting telling her of yesterday's events, the light pain in her ankle and not least Courf's dark green cravat she had draped over the taboret next to her bed had finally convinced her that she must have been wide awake, and that all of it actually HAD happened. The dancing, the horrors at the parade, the dead gypsy woman, her flight with Courf to the catacombes, and then...

For the dozendst time this morning she shook her head as if to clear it, and suppressed a smile. This had come rather unexpected and there was no saying if there ever would be a repeat again. There was nothing as romantic as love between them, even though there surely was a great deal of affection, otherwise Mylène would have never let it come so far. She was not a cheap girl off the street and she would tell anyone where to get off who would ever try to treat her that way! And anyway… wasn’t it a little out of line to feel so… buoyant while everyone around her was keeping their heads low? The events at the May Parade had set the city into a shock state, and then right in the morning people had started to spread the news of General Lamarque’s death. It had been a matter of days of course, but the timely connection of these two news had rendered the whole city of Paris in an explosive mood. The funeral would be in three days time, and there would be a procession of his coffin through the city, so everyone could pay their respects to the ‘People’s Man’.

The streets itself had settled into an eerie calm after the chaos yesterday, and who did not have urgent business to attend to stayed behind the safety of his own doors. That also meant less customers than usual around noon, and it gave Mylène some time to actually do something for her own self, setting up the preparations for the powder theft she had thought up with Eponine and which they wanted to stage three nights from now… on the eve of General Lamarque’s funeral. For this they had agreed on needing first and foremost a wheelbarrow and two or three barrels, both things she could lay her hands on easily here. The landlord and the menial had recently brought out a few of the empty wine and beer barrels for the supplier to exchange and had stacked them in the little alley behind the café’s backdoor for the moment and soon enough Mylène found herself to be out there, testing them for their suitability. They had to be dry yet, since any dampness and powder was as fatal as a spark and powder, and they also had to resemble those ramshackle barrels the ragpickers used on their rounds.

Her back turned to the entrance of the alley, she was quite invested into her screening, when she suddenly felt something, the slightest of touches at her hip where her pouch with change for the customers was. Someone who hadn’t grown up as a pickpocket on the street might not even register that barest of touches, but for Mylène it triggered her alarm system, even after a few years out of ‘practice’. Her hand darted to her side and her fingers closed around the nimble ones that had dared to venture towards her personal belongings, holding them fast. “Wouldn’t do tha’ if I were ye!” she commented calmly, and only then turned to look at the ‘culprit’.

[Deleted]

He had news. News that she probably wasn't entirely keen on the rest of the world knowing. And that gave him power over the pretty ex-streetrat.

It had been quite some time since he had known something that he wasn't specifically sent out to learn. But he loved the idea of secrets and blackmail if it was a good enough one. Of course, most of the things he learned on the streets were delivered to Enjrolas in exchange for companionship and food. But that didn't mean he didn't learn the occasional juicy tidbit. Like now. And he knew just what to do with it...

An open and silent alleyway was not his usual first-choice when looking for a good spot to thief. He knew that the more people that were around, the less likely it would be that he would get caught. However he wasn't really interested in the money on this one (of course if he happened to get it that was awesome and he would just blackmail her later). However he knew of her reputation (before himself, she had been the most notorious kid-gang leader) and he knew that she was too keen in on what it felt like to be picked. Even f she had gone soft since her days on the street.

Her reflexes snapped into place as he knew they would. He felt her thin fingers curl around his tiny wrist and a massive grin spread across his face. He tried briefly to pull himself free but she was locked on like a shark. “Wouldn’t do tha’ if I were ye!” If only she knew now that he knew what he shouldn't.

"Oh c'mon, Myl. Jus' abit o' fun. Ah was gonna give i' back, promise." He smiled just a bit wider, showing off his crookid teeth now. "Ah was jus' testin' yeh. Looks like ye've still got it, eh?" He winked at her, deciding to not yet drop what he was really here for. If he did that now, she might not ever let go of his wrist.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Only when Mylène turned around to see who the cheeky soul was that had tried to steal from her, she realized that it was by no means an unknown face. Her eyes fell on a little boy with blond curls around his ten years, dirty and grimy from living on the streets, yet his eyes sparkled with a liveliness and cheek that was second to no one she knew, maybe apart from herself. “Gavroche!” she exclaimed, a tint of surprise in her voice she could not quite hide. Catching herself soon after though, she let go of his fingers and took a step back, examining him from top to bottom. He didn’t look too bad, and this was why she suspected he had tried to steal from her more out of mischief than out of necessity. “I shed have known…” she chuckled, shaking her head. “An YE shed have known better than te try and get me pouch. Givin’ it back… me bum! Ye can tell tha’ yer precious elephant. Mais oui, ye see, I still got it.”

Leaning against one of the larger barrels and propping her hands up there behind her back, she prepared for a little idle chitchat with her favourite gamin. If the landlady needed her, she would be called and as loud as her voice could be, there was no reason to fear she would miss it. And the more she played out the leisure card right now, the less Gavroche would be interested in what she was doing out here with the barrels, and why she had been so interested in them. Just like Ponine, she wanted to keep Gavroche away from danger as much as that was even possible. He was a handy little fellow, and he surely had courage enough for two grown men, but just like Mylène herself he was therefore cursed with the flaw of severe recklessness. If he had so much as an inkling of their plan to steal powder, the hole National Guard plus the King’s Cavalry would not be able to keep him from that particular storage.

Like she knew him, though, Gavroche always had some reasons for what he did, so she suspected he might have sought her out for reasons more than simple mischief. And it made her curious. Very curious indeed. “What’s the latest news, lil man?” she asked therefore, smiling down at him. Lil man was her personal nickname for him ever since she could remember, for the reasons of him being so much more than his age suggested. You grew up fast on the streets, and anyone not taking this boy at face value would regret it. It was as much an hommage as it was teasing him for his ‘grown-up’ attitude while he still was cheeky and playful like only a kid could be.

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His smile remained just as big as she released him. She didn't seem to buy his story about testing her reflexes but he nodded his thanks to her for his freedom. He shrugged at her comment about knowing better then to pick her. He didn't always have the best sense of victims which made this a pretty good coverup.

He moved his attention from her to the barrels. He started looking them over, mostly for show, but he was also curious what her interest in them was. But that question would be for a late moment. Right now, he needed to work his plan.

"What's the latest news, lil man?". Oh, she just made this so much easier! Se was practically begging him to blackmail her! He turned back to face her, his grin turning from one of innocence and cuteness to one of devilish intentions. Of course, given how cute he was naturally, his evil wasn't very evil.

"News? Lessee, news. Well why don' yeh tell me, Myl? Ah've seen some an' heard some curious thin's 'bout yeh. So p'raps Ah should be askin' yeh... any news?"

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

There was a nagging feeling in Mylène’s guts even before he started to speak, the feeling that something was off, and her intuitions rarely failed her there. Gavroche had something up his sleeve, so much was for sure, and by the grin he suddenly sported, it might not be something very pleasant for Mylène herself. With a hot sting, she wondered whether Gavroche somehow had found out about what Eponine and her were planning after all, and if he now wanted to weasel his way into it by threatening her to betray their plans to one of the lads. Once the plan was out, they would insist of doing it alone – and then they would fail and everything would be in vain. This wouldn’t be the first revolution failing because of a powder storage exploding prematurely. Hadn’t Feuilly told her about these disturbing stories from abroad, where that Irishman had sought help with Napoleon for his own revolution, but had to bring the revolt forward before aid could arrive, because for the second time his powder storage had litterally blowed his cover? They had caught him and his friends, all young men like the lads, of course. And they had hanged him. Robert Emmet… hadn’t that been his name?

Too late Mylène realized her thoughts had been wandering, which was a flaw proving to be fatal around someone like Gavroche. He was up to something, and she really hoped it would not be the gunpowder theft. Anything else she could think of, she really did not fear. “Ye heard things ‘bout me?” she echoed, trying a smirk. “From whom if I may ask? I’d like te chafe tha’ badmouthers’ tongue, ye know. Probably all jus’ lies! Apart from the new barmaid colleague who seems te have sumthin’ ‘gainst me, there’s nuthin’ new I could think o’ now.”

Of course that was a lie, and hopefully a smooth one. For Mylène did not only have the gunpowder on her mind. But then, the… relation she suddenly had with Courfeyrac, in truth only a step-up from their endless teasing and flirting games and still an unexpected and notable step, it all wasn’t considered ‘news’ in her mind. No news worth sharing at least. Certainly not with Gavroche. He loved Courfeyrac like a big brother, so maybe one day he would find out on his own. But now the revolution was the most important, no need for anyone to gawk at their… privacy. "And, ... seen? Wha' d'ye think o' havin' seen tha' could be any news?" This might well be a trap... but she needed to know one way or the other!

[Deleted]

He returned his attention to the barrels. Gavroche watched her closely out of the corner of his eye, hidden by his fake keg inspections. He could tell simply by the look in her eyes and the expression on her face that her mind had began to wander. Perhaps thinking of the wonderful night she'd spent with his big brother. Although he really did like Mylene and respect who she was and where she'd come from, Gavroche loved his big brother more. The child needed to be sure that Courfeyrac's mind would not be anywhere but the barricades when the day came.

She regained her mind and he could see her returning to the topic at hand. “Ye heard things ‘bout me? From whom if I may ask? I’d like te chafe tha’ badmouthers’ tongue, ye know. Probably all jus’ lies! Apart from the new barmaid colleague who seems te have sumthin’ ‘gainst me, there’s nuthin’ new I could think o’ now.” He raised an eyebrow and allowed himself to look over his shoulder at her. Although he had a bit of experience in secrets and blackmail, he was still young and didn't know all the ropes. But he tried his best to be intimidating to the much taller woman. "Confidential, Madam Myl. Who Ah got meh info from don't concern yeh. What does concern yeh is the information Ah 'ave."

He hoped that he would be able to make her sweat a bit. That would make his end-goal so much easier to accomplish if she really was worried about what he knew. And who knows! Maybe there were more secrets she would accidentally let slip if he didn't tell her everything right away.

He had watched them flirt before so the discovery had been no surprise to him. But he still never could understand what was so important about being with a girl. Maybe it was because he was still so young but he knew that all the older students were crazy for flirting so much, especially with something so important at hand. He hoped desperately that he would never have to find out. "And, ... seen? Wha' d'ye think o' havin' seen tha' could be any news?" Ah, there we go. Now she was starting to get down to the root of it.

He shrugged again, trying to be casual but still worrisome for her. "Ah dunno. Lotsa thin's 'appen 'ere on the streets. You know 'ow it goes, Myl. Ah'm sure yeh saw plent of things in yer day that warranted the ti'le o' news." He didn't want to give anything away so soon.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Confidential... of course! What a crafty sly fox he could be! Mylène couldn’t deny being impressed, and she also realized that he was maneuvring her into a corner with how he dropped hints and yet did not say anything. She had to be on her guard, if she wanted to keep the upper hand of this conversation. Either he knew something really of importance and wanted to build up a blackmailing case by making her sweat even beforehand, or he knew nothing at all and just did this to make her reveal something by pretending he knew what she was up to. Either way, it was a splendid tactic, one she probably would have used herself given half the chance, though she was more straightforward in her approaches usually.

So, what was there to do? Of course she wanted him to spill the beans, but this game was something she enjoyed for now, since she still didn’t believe there was any real danger for herself attached to it. It was like a little contest: who would break first? Would she ask him to finally come through with what he had to say… or would he not be able to bear it anymore and burst with it? That… wasn’t so bad of an idea. If she could feign disinterest, he might fall for her hook, line and sinker, and break through with whatever he wanted to say, because he was so eager to get it off his chest. After all, if he didn’t think it a catch, he wouldn’t have held out for so long, right? He was good, no question of that, brilliant even for his age… but let’s see if Mylène couldn’t be just a few notches better.

“Yeah, I know how it goes alright”, she replied nonchalantly. “An’ I know tha’ much o’ wha’s told an’ seen on the streets is not as interestin’ as it seems on firs’ glance. I doubt yer news sell fer much.” But inwardly her thoughts started to race. He was always referring to something he had seen, maybe something he had seen her doing? But what had she done in public that he or anyone else who would rat her out to Gavroche had seen… and what could make him so smug? Had he…? No, that was ridiculous! He couldn’t have been there when they emerged from the catacombes… or could he?! There was only one way to find out… she had to taunt him into revealing it, up her game!

“So, if ye dun have sumthin really interestin, please… Madame probably will send fer me in a second. I’ll better anticipate her, or sumthin. Tell Ponine she shed show her face ‘round ‘ere again, if ye see her, d’accord?” And with that, Mylène gave a wink and half-turned to the door, as if she wanted to go inside. Now the ball was in his court, so to speak…

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He could see that she was starting to get frustrated with him. He had something he clearly wanted to say but he wasn't saying it and it put her on the edge of her seat - just the way he wanted it. “Yeah, I know how it goes alright. An’ I know tha’ much o’ wha’s told an’ seen on the streets is not as interestin’ as it seems on firs’ glance. I doubt yer news sell fer much.” He nodded, she was right. Some information wasn't worth as much as one thought in the beginning but..

"But tah the righ' people, cirtain news can be worth more'n money." He winked at her. She was keeping a pretty strait face, but every once in awhile, she would flick her hair out of the way at a time it wasn't necessary or glance over his shoulder. Nervous habits that usually meant the person was hiding something. Of course, Gavroche was known for seeing things that didn't happen. Perhaps he was imagining it because he knew she had something to hide.

“So, if ye dun have sumthin really interestin, please… Madame probably will send fer me in a second. I’ll better anticipate her, or sumthin. Tell Ponine she shed show her face ‘round ‘ere again, if ye see her, d’accord?”

"Oui, d'accourd, mademoiselle." He fell silent. He was winning. She wanted to know what he knew and he was not quite ready to give it up. She was pressuring him into telling her by faking the need to leave. But what she hadn't realized was the fact that if Gavroche let her go, she would have to spend the next few hours stirring over what he really did know. And if she didn't really leave, she would be forced to own up that she lied about being needed back inside the cafe and to come back to him to ask what he knew. It was absolutely win-win. So the street child stood in the alley, with a soft wave. "I'll see you aroun' then. Can' promise Ah'll keep my trap shut 'bout wha' I saw though. You know how i' is, promise o' food or money an' any'un will talk..."