A Promise

Chapter Thirty-Six

I limped over to the door and peered through the barred window at Vauquelin. He had changed since I'd last seen him. His mustache and hair were streaked with grey, and he was thin and walked with stooped shoulders. There were wrinkles around his eyes and his face had a permanent scowl.

"Vauquelin," I called out. He looked at me with beady eyes, and his face paled. He turned away as if he hadn't noticed me, but I wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

"Vauquelin," I said again. "Come here. Come have a look at what your work has done to me."

He continued to ignore me, and instead he struck up a conversation with one of the other guards. "Vauquelin!" I called out again, the bitterness and anger I'd felt all these years creeping into my voice. "What are you doing here anyways? How did you get demoted from an inspector to a mere prison guard?"

I could see Vauquelin's body stiffen, but he did not turn around. Obviously my comment had hit him where it hurt. The guard he was talking to turned to look my way, an annoyed expression on his face. "Shut up, Thenardier," he barked. "I'm trying to have a conversation."

"But Vauquelin and I are old friends!" I protested sarcastically. "We have a long history, don't we Inspector?"

Vauquelin didn't respond, but the other guard had reached his wit's end with me. He marched over to my cell, unlocked the door, and came inside. "You need to shut your face," he growled. "Or I'll do it for you."

"Make me," I spat. My long exile in prison had not destroyed my stubborn spirit.

"Fine, I will," the guard retorted. He raised his hand, and I cringed. Although this guard was not as sadistic as Girard had been, he had no qualms about beating prisoners mercilessly when they got on his nerves. I had been the victim of his beatings many a time. I braced myself for a hard blow, but the strike never came. To my surprise, Vauquelin saved me.

"Don't hit her," he told the guard. "Let me take care of her."

The guard nodded. "Make sure you teach her a lesson," he said viciously, then left my cell.

Vauquelin stood awkwardly in my cell, making it a point to look anywhere but at me.

"So, Vauquelin?" I said, raising my eyebrow at him. "You never answered my question. Why did you get demoted to a prison guard? Did someone figure out you're only capable of capturing criminals if you make shady, clandestine deals with them?"

He ignored my question again. "Look at you, Thenardier," he said. "You've lost so much weight, you're eyes have lost their spark. Ten years of prison have really taken their toll on you."

I faltered, unsure if I had heard him correctly. "Ten years?" I repeated incredulously. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes," Vauquelin replied, giving me an intrigued glance. "You didn't know?"

"I suppose I've lost track of time," I said in a hushed voice. How had it been ten years? I knew it had been a few years since my arrest, but ten? How old did that make me now? Twenty-six? I looked down at my body, but it did not look like that of a twenty-six-year-old. My bones jutted out and bruises covered my skin. My left ankle was mangled and my body was weak and fragile.

"You asked why I got demoted," Vauquelin said, interrupting my thoughts. "I didn't. I quit."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

He took a breath. I could tell that what he was about to say had been bothering him for a very long time, and he was only talking to me about it in order to get it off his chest. "About a month ago, I was chasing down a criminal," Vauquelin began. "He was a common thief who had been eluding the police for quite some time. His name was Babet."

"Babet?" I repeated, looking at him in alarm. It was a name I hadn't heard in a very long time. Babet, devoted member of the Patron Minette and close friend of my father. The name brought back terrible memories of my days of thievery and con-artistry. 

"Yes, Babet," Vauquelin continued. "I was hot on his tail, and I was so close to catching him. I had him cornered, but he started running away, and I could not catch up to him. Then I..." His voice trailed off, and he put his head in his hands. "I took out my gun," he said, guilt creeping into his voice. "I took out my gun and I shot him in the back. He wasn't fighting me; he wasn't even armed. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I did. I killed him."

"You killed him?" I repeated, staring up at Vauquelin. A strange feeling overcame me. Although I had never liked Babet, I felt angry at Vauquelin for killing someone who had once been a huge part of my life. Sure, Babet was not a good person, but he hadn't deserved death! Vauquelin seemed to sense my anger, and he gave me what looked like an apologetic glance.

" You know what happened afterwards?" he asked, his face pale."My colleagues congratulated me on ridding the world of a 'worthless vermin.' They actually believed what I had done was a good thing! I tried to believe them, but I couldn't. I did something very wrong when I shot that man, and it made me wonder if person my position as Inspector had gotten into my head and caused me to feel a false sense of unlimited power. My guilt overwhelmed me and I started seeing how people all around me were being oppressed by the police and the government. I realized maybe this was why Javert committed suicide-"

"Wait, Javert committed suicide?" I interjected, surprised. Vauquelin nodded.

"I think he saw what I see now: that maybe the law isn't perfect. That's why I quit to become a prison guard. I couldn't bear the guilt. I couldn't bear the thought that maybe the law that I've spent my life trying to uphold is twisted and flawed. I wonder now if maybe there was something to that June Rebellion your Enjolras instigated."

"Of course there was something to it," I replied fervently. "Why would all those students lay down their lives for a cause unless there was 'something to it'?"

Vauquelin nodded and looked down at his hands. "I see that now," he admitted.

I let out a puff of air, unsure if I really believed what I was hearing. "You're the last person I'd have ever guessed would say that."

"Believe me, a few years ago, I would never have guessed it either."

I turned away from him. In my heart, I still hated him for taking me away from Enjolras. I knew he felt guilty, but I just couldn't find it in me to forgive him. "Go away," I said, my emotions getting the best of me. "Nothing you say is ever going to change what you've done."

Vauquelin was silent for a moment. "Fine," he said. "I don't know why I even bothered talking to you anyways." With that, he marched out of my cell and slammed the door. When he was gone, I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. Seeing him brought back too many bad memories from the past. I wrapped my arms around my thin body, still lamenting over the fact that it had been ten years since my arrest. "I'm never going to get out of here," I whispered. "I'm never going to see Enjolras again."