Satine [ONGOING]

GABRIELLE (IV)

On her first day back at school after her dreary week of punishment, Constance and Clementine were absent, their chairs stood vacant, making the classroom seem so strangely empty. Gabrielle couldn't help but glance behind her, wondering where they both were. Some form of apprehension built up in the pit of her stomach as the hours passed, they hadn't both just caught the flu, that much was very obvious, Madame Pradier was the kind of mother that sent her feverish kids to school much like Marie-Lise, that must have been the only fault they shared. It had to be something else, something worse. All day she couldn't concentrate on a word the teacher was saying, thinking of Constance and her wide smile and Clementine with her kind doe eyes, wondering what had happened to them. Once the bells of the Saint-Loup church chimed five times, marking the end of their school day, instead of rushing out with the other students like she usually would have, Gabrielle approached the teacher's desk, her heart heavy with worry. "Madame Garnier, have you heard from Constance or Clementine? '' she asked, finding it hard to look her in the eyes because of last week's incident, she felt ashamed despite not feeling much regret. She did her best to keep her voice steady and confident but it proved to be very difficult. Madame Garnier's expression softened, and she hesitated before replying, "I'm afraid Constance's father has been called up to defend our country, Gabrielle. Constance and Clementine are with her family today. Madame Pradier came to warn me this morning.'' Gabrielle's heart sank to the very pit of her stomach, for a second she thought she might start crying. That could not be true. Gabrielle shook her head, they couldn't take him. He was essential to their community. They didn't call anyone.

"But, he's a farmer-"
"I know, they need everyone, Gabrielle. If you ask me, in the next few days, letters will be delivered to every household. Consider yourself lucky, your father has served before, he is too old now." The young girl gulped. She could not imagine Monsieur Pradier going to war, a gentler soul never walked the earth, if anything it was more likely his twelve year old daughter Constance would make a better soldier with her fiery temper and unstoppable stride, not the man that spent his days bottle feeding lamb and making daisy chains in the fields with his niece. "Thank you, Maitresse." she whispered before slowly making her way out of the classroom. She wished she could do something for her friend's already shattered family. She didn't feel lucky her father wasn't suffering the same fate, she felt guilty. She felt guilty for not listening to the radio, for not properly reading the papers, for not understanding how very real this conflict was. The fact it took her small village being ripped off its inhabitants for her to realise made her feel so incredibly naive and childish. She walked home with heavy feet, thinking of poor Constance, and of Clémentine, losing a paternal figure for the second time. Before she reached her front door, she began to weep. Why was everything so unfair? As the door opened she was met by her mother, who was on her way out, no doubt for something like choir practice at their church. Her eyes widened at the state of her daughter.
"Ma chérie," She whispered, unusually soft. "What is it?" She reached her arms out and let Gabrielle fall onto her. She was left in her confusion for a while as her daughter recollected her thoughts, trying to speak through stutter and mumble.

"Breathe, breathe, what is it?" her mother asked, crouching down to meet her eyes. Gabrielle could only shake her head.
"Everything is so unfair!" She sobbed, the older woman nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. "Maman, why? Why is everything so unfair?"

The older woman let out a knowing sigh, couldn't everyone relate to this feeling of injustice at times? "I don't know, darling, I keep asking myself the same question."

Gabrielle sobbed into her shoulder as she dragged her back inside. "What happened darling?" She asked slowly.

"Monsieur Pradier, he's-" Gabrielle stopped immediately, seeing her mother's face stare back at her in a knowing way. She gulped.

"You've heard-"
"I have." Marie-Lise admitted, rubbing her arms gently. Gabrielle looked down at her shoes and her mother slowly made her way back up onto her feet, having knelt down by her daughter's side. "I was going to go to church-"
"And pray?" Gabrielle completed, repressing a scoff. What would that do? Her mother nodded slowly, and upon reflection, Gabrielle realised there was not much else to do. Though she firmly believed that if there was a god out there he was not as good as people said, perhaps it was worth a try to plead.

"Would you like to come?" She asked softly and Gabrielle was almost as surprised as her mother when she nodded, slipping her hand into hers.The pair walked along the gravel road of the hamlet Le Bouchet, toward the white church of their parish: a quaint catholic establishment with sculpted angels by the doors, embedded into small vitrines in the walls. Madame Dumont slowly pushed the wooden doors open, leading her daughter inside. Gabrielle looked up at the rounded ornate ceiling, she had always found church very boring, but she did love the peace and quiet on this difficult day. The way her footsteps echoing was the only thing besides her mother's breathing she could hear was incredibly calming. She sat down on one of the old wooden benches, rather far away from her mother. She was kneeling down, Gabrielle could not bother. Her head felt light, her nose was stuffed with snot and her eyes itched, red and puffy. She just sat there for a while, encapsulated by the white walls, staring at the decorated altar. She didn't know where to start, what to think or ask the higher powers. She barely even believed in the existence of such a thing, she hadn't for years, not since her parents gave up on searching for Satine all those years ago, and especially not since the war had broken out, an all knowing good god wouldn't let its most prized creation fight its own kind with chemical weapons and automatic guns. Nonetheless, she put her hands together, because for once, it felt as if she needed to imagine an all-knowing god listening in, taking note, caring.

She prayed for this war to end. She prayed that the rumours of invasion would dissipate like snow melted away in spring. She prayed for the wellbeing of her sister and for the safe return of Monsieur Pradier to his beloved family, whom Satine knew so desperately needed him. Especially with the lambing having just started. A tear ran down her cheek. Her thoughts and prayers seemed so incredibly hollow, but it was all she could do.

Dear lord, if you are listening, I, Gabrielle Dumont will never forgive you if anything happens to Monsieur Pradier in this stupid war.