Friday, March 8, 2013

One Day More and ~Beyond the Barricade~ Part 3...

So, today I listened to every One Day More featured on a Cast Recording CD. And I've decided which ones are my favorites. I liked them all but I have to say my top three are : (1) The movie version, (2) The 10th Anniversary version, and (3) The original cast. Though, I honestly can't stand Frances Ruffelles. Her voice is too whiney.

And now, I present ~Beyond the Barricade~ Part 3..... But first I need to have a disclaimer:
I have a feeling a lot of you won't like my portrayal of Courfeyrac in the Part. Bear with me, it is all part of my plan for this story. I read somewhere "A good book doesn't give-up all its secrets at once". Please don't give up on my story, there will be more to this part of the storyline, you've just got to keep reading.
So here it is, ~Beyond the Barricade~

~Beyond the Barricade~ Part Three

Cosette and Marius returned from their mid-afternoon stroll. Cosette had convinced her husband to tell their daughter about the June Rebellion and his time at the Barricade. As they entered the house, it was unnaturally quiet. It seemed as if no one was home. A letter was placed the banister, addressed to both of them. Marius reached out to seize the letter while Cosette called,

        "Angeline? Angeline, we're home!"

Cosette glanced at her husband who had suddenly gone pale. A hand was thrust over his mouth.

"Darling, what on earth is the matter? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" Cosette inquired, getting quite anxious when silence answered her calls.

        "She's gone." He mumbled.

"What? Who is gone?" Cosette asked, hoping he did not mean who she thought he meant. When he didn't answer, just stood there, getting paler by the second, she practically yelled, "WHO IS GONE, MARIUS?"

"Angeline has left home. Here, take it." He muttered, handing her the epistle. She read it, scanning each letter of each word carefully. When she finished, she fell to the floor, crying hysterically.

"I knew we shouldn't have left her! I knew there was something wrong while we were out, I could feel it in my stomach. That is why I wanted to return. And now we are too late." She cried, barely intelligible.  Marius bent down and wiped the tears from her face. She noticed he had tears streaming down his face as well.

"What are we going to do?" She sobbed.

"The only thing to do: wait."


Angeline walked the streets of Paris. She hoped to find the first of the men's families that night. She glanced down at the list of names she copied down from her father's book. She had gone to the courthouse, where there was a list of all inhabitants of Paris, at least the ones who owned a houses. There she had found someone by the name of Maria Molyneux. Her address was in the slums of Paris and Angeline was quite anxious to travel down there. She hadn't thought that the families of these men could be poor. She had always thought them rich young students, but obviously that wasn't the case. They came from poor, tired families who wanted deliverance from the poor, tired lifestyle. After cautiously walking for what seemed like miles, Angeline arrived at the house of Maria Molyneux. She held her breath, hesitated, then knocked. After a several moments, the door opened. The person who had unbolted the door was a woman. A tired, haggard woman who was at one time very beautiful. She didn't look hard and mean like some underprivileged women, but fatigued. She looked like a mother figure, someone who you could tell your problems to and she wouldn't judge, for she had made the same mistakes.

        "Hello, I am looking for a Maria Molyneux." Angeline said, not looking the woman directly in the eye. Angeline felt nervous and shy.

        "I am she. Who's asking?" The woman replied, looking suspicious.

"I'm here to ask about a Courfeyrac Molyneux, one who died in the June Rebellion. I am Angeline Pontmercy, I believe you know my father?" Maria replied.

"You are Baron Pontmercy's daughter?"The woman asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Then come in."

Angeline entered the house. It was small, had almost no furnishing, yet it felt like home. It was neat and tidy.

"Why are you here, Mademoiselle? Why didn't you ask your father about Courfeyrac?" The woman, Maria, asked.

"He won't tell me anything of his time at the Barricade. I thought maybe he told you. I want to know his experiences. Know who his friends were." 

"He did tell me, yes. Just ask, I'll answer." Maria said with a smile.

"Who was Courfeyrac? Was he your husband? Your brother?" Angeline asked.

"Neither. We were lovers." The woman sighed, becoming eighteen in her head again. She remembered that time in her life like no other. It had been the one time she was truly happy.

"Then why do you have his last name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I changed it after I learned he had died. I've never loved a man since."

"I want to know your story. The story of Courfeyrac and yourself." Angeline inquired.

"Well, we met in 1831. I fell completely in love with him. I've always liked to believe he loved me too. But he was a lustful young man in Paris, where he could have whomever he pleased. Still, I like to think that I was different from the rest. Special. He would come by every once in a while. He made me feel like a Queen. Then, after June of 1832, he stopped coming. I had known he was at a Barricade, so I assumed the worst. A month later, your father came and informed me that my suspicions were true. He's been sending us money ever since." Maria explained.

"Us?" Angeline asked, confused.

"Myself and my son, Chandler."

"And is Chandler's father...."

"Yes, his father was Courfeyrac." Maria said, her eyes looking down at her lap. Even after 22 years since her son's birth the shame humiliated her. But it didn't matter. She didn't know what she would do without her son.

"Well, thank you so much, Madame, for telling me about your experiences. Did my father tell you much about the time on the Barricade?" Angeline asked.

"No, not much. Just that Courfeyrac was one of the first to die, that he was shot by the National Guard."

"Oh. Well, thank you again. I must be going." Angeline said and headed for the door.

"Now wait. You aren't going home, are you? I can tell. I was once sixteen."

"I'm planning on finding the families of the other men on the barricade." Angeline explained.

"Not tonight. Your father has provided for me for over 22 years, and now I'm going to repay the favor. It's almost 8 o'clock. You're going to stay here tonight and then tomorrow you can go on your way. But with one requirement. My son goes with you." Maria said, firmly.

"Your son?" Angeline asked. Yes, she was a sheltered young girl but she knew that some young men, epically ones from the poorer areas, were not always gentlemen.

"Yes, my son. He has always ignored everything I've ever told him about his father. Maybe if he learned about his father's friends and how he died, perhaps he won't be so negative. Don't worry, Chandler is very well behaved. He's not home now, though. He'll be back tomorrow."

"Very well. Thank you for your hospitality, Madame."

"The pleasure is all mine. You honestly remind me of myself as a young girl. Hopefully not so rebellious, though." Maria said with a smile. Angeline felt strangely at home in this run-down shack of a house.  



Please keep reading because in the next part, we're going to visit the parents of Enjolras!
Hope you Enjoyed!
Over and Out!


  1. I know you said most people wouldn't like your portrayal of Courfeyrac but I think that his having a child would be a very probable thing. Can't wait for the next one. :)

    1. See, that's what I was thinking! I mean, Victor Hugo practically descibes him as a Felix Tholomyes! I'm glad you liked it! I am in the middle of working on the fourth part, expect it by Monday or Tuesday!

  2. That's exactly what I was thinking when I read this. Victor Hugo had no shame describing the boys personalities. And I know everyone wants to think they were complete 100% stand up guys who never did anything wrong but they were all human and they did have their lovers. Yes, I'm super excited to hear about how you write about Enjolras parents.