Michel's war, Ayjay [best novels of all time .txt] 📗

revenge. Now he could kill the Boch that killed his Papa.

Belonging in the Maquis wasn’t as exciting as he had thought. They mostly just trained and loitered. Michel never actually got to go on a mission, but he was useful in the camp. As he was so much smaller than the other men, he could make sure there were no intruders in the camp and do some jobs the other men couldn’t do. There grew between himself and the men a certain respect, but never actual friendship. Jonathan however would disappear for hours at a time, though always reappearing in time to go home with Michel. They knew they would have to tell Sophie soon, but Michel wanted to delay. His first ever task was to go out with Jonathan searching for debris of a plane that crashed a few days back. Looking for the plane reminded Michel of when he had met Jonathan. Jonathan was also quiet. They passed a clearing, and Michel thought he saw something shiny on the ground. He motioned to Jonathan and they shimmied forwards to look at what it was: it was a plane, blackened with smoke, twisted with fire, empty with death. Jonathan’s face grew white as he took in the destruction. As if in a dream he moved until he was standing in front of the nose, looking into the cockpit.
“Hello you.” He murmured. With a jolt Michel realized that this was Jonathan’s elusive plane. He had never managed to find it no matter how hard he had looked. Jonathan circled it, looking into the belly and shuddering when he saw bone. Michel stood back to give him privacy when he heard a soft exclamation. He quickly looked down and saw a moving hand.
“Jonathan, come quickly. I think there is something here.”
Jonathan turned round and came to stand next to Michel. He looked down then crouched. As if in a frenzy, he started pulling up grass and shoots. Michel was startled but saw the urgency and helped.
“Johnny, that you?” A weak voice rose from the undergrowth.
“Tommy?” Breathed Jonathan.
“Yeah. How did you get here?”
Jonathan and Michel pulled out a gaunt and emaciated man. His RAF uniform was torn beyond recognition, his face yellow and sallow.
“Tommy, how did you get here?”
“I ate from the forest. A sniper then shot at me a few days ago and I came here to die. Are you a ghost? Are we in hell yet?”
“No Tommy, we’re alive. Michel, help me carry him. He fainted.”

Together they carried him home back to Sophie. She stood shocked for a second then barked out some orders and proceeded to attend to his wound. Jonathan and Michel hovered the rest of the day, waiting to see if he gained consciousness. He didn’t, but Sophie was looking suspiciously at the pair of them, and soon after dinner she confronted them.
“Michel, an explanation please.”
Stuttering and stumbling, he gave her the gist of the events. She turned white when she learned that he had joined the Maquis. She dropped her face in her hands when he had finished.
“Oh no, Mon Coeur. Not you too. I can’t tell you not to join, but I had so hoped you wouldn’t have to.” She turned to Jonathan with an anguished look, “Please Jonathan; take care of him.”
“I promise.” He placated her.
“Just one last thing: no telling the other children what you are doing. They will want to join and I can’t have that.”
“OK Maman. I’m sorry; I didn’t want you to worry.” She gave him a tired smile.
“It’s OK Cherie; I didn’t really expect it to last. I just keep forgetting you’re growing up.” He looked at her with a puzzled expression.
“It’s your birthday next week. Mon amour, you’re going to be 14.” She gave him a watery smile and a hug. Tommy made a noise from the next room and Sophie hurried back to look after him. Michel went up to bed feeling very old, yet highly insignificant.

The next morning Michel woke up alone. He supposed Jonathan had stayed with Tommy all night. As he was putting on his socks, the door opened and Danielle and Sonia slipped in. he glared at them in mock outrage.
“And supposing I would have been I the middle of getting dressed?”
“We wouldn’t see anything we haven’t seen before.” He stared at them open mouthed, then laughed.
“If you mean when we were three and had our baths together, please.” Danielle sat down next to him at slapped his back.
“Shut up Michel, you always make a fool of yourself. Tell us, why did you join the Maquis?”
Michel went very still.
“How do you know?” Sonia snorted.
“Oh come on Michel, we’re not stupid. We knew you’d been up to something so we followed you and Jonathan to the woods, realized you were going to the Maquis. Last night’s conversation only certified what we knew.”
Michel went red with anger.
“If you dare follow me into the woods again, I’ll-“
“What, you’ll tell Maman? Really! We just found out OK? No big deal. We just want to help you, not with the actual fighting, but we can do other stuff.”
“If you really think I’m going to let you-“
“Please Michel. He’s our Papa too.” Michel went silent, not knowing what to say. Jonathan chose that moment to walk in.
“Hello everyone, are you alright?” He looked at their faces, all angry to a different degree.
“You know what? I’ll let you deal with it Jonathan.” He turned to face the girls.
“You know what you want; now you’ll just have to ask him.” With that he stormed out the room.

He went to say hi to Maman; then quickly ran outside. His hands shook as he yanked on his wellies, though with anger or with fear he could not tell. He wandered about the fields, dreading to return home, reluctant to remain outside. The heat beat down on him the flies buzzed around his ears. Finally his stomach ordered him back home. He entered the kitchen in a foul mood to find Jonathan, Maman, Danielle, Sophie and Laurent standing around.
“What’s everyone doing here?” He asked, flinging himself into a chair.
“Nothing you grump.” Sophie hugged him from behind. “You’re really growing into a fine teenager Mon Chérie. Soon you’ll be moaning all day long, and you’ll become a couch potato.”
Michel smiled at that.
“Not a chance Maman. I’ll be here every second of the day to annoy you.” The heavy atmosphere defused.
“Where are Clara and Arnaud?”
Jonathan answered him. “They’re keeping Tommy Company. You see he’s in a bit of pain.”
“Who is Tommy?”
“My best friend. He’s married and has three kids already, and only my age.”
“Do you have a wife?” Michel groaned at Danielle’s question, so girly.
“No, but I have a girlfriend who I’m planning to marry as soon as I can get home.”
His face took on a nostalgic look and Michel felt a tug just looking at him.
“Do we get an invite to your wedding?” Asked Sonia.
“Of course.” He laughed. “You guys will be my French side of the family.” As everyone continued talking, Michel felt a bit strange. He realized he didn’t want Jonathan to go; he had enjoyed having an older brother to look after him and everyone else.

Sophie sat back with a serious expression. Everyone fell silent as she looked at each of them in turn.
“OK, here’s the deal. From now we all belong in the Maquis, but we are not to tell anyone or Clara and Arnaud. Jonathan has arranged for any sick or injured people to find covalence in our home. I would like the girls and Laurent to help. Michel, you will carry on going with Jonathan. That’s it, any questions?”
No questions were asked. From then on the family had a purpose. None of them wallowed in sadness because there was simply too much to do, too many people to take care of. Everyone was happy with his or her job. Michel had his birthday and perhaps grew somewhat surly, but Sophie took it in her stride. She knew he needed a male presence so let him stay with Jonathan a lot. Jonathan liked having Michel around; the boy was interesting and could keep quiet. Tommy grew stronger and it came to the day when he was no longer a patient, and since he had nowhere else to go, Sophie took him in. Sophie and Michel had a small fight over this. Sophie wanted to put Tommy in his room and Michel declared absolutely not.
“Michel, I have nowhere else to put him.”
“Put him with the girls then.”
“Michel!”
“I don’t have space Maman, and I don’t want him.”
Sophie sat down for a moment.
“So where should we put him?”
“In the bin? I don’t care. Anywhere but in my room. I need the limited amount of space there is.”
Eventually Sophie put him in the boy’s room. Michel should have been happy with his victory, but he just hated himself for being so awful to Maman. He was feeling depressed these days and he didn’t know why. He didn’t want to be in anyone’s company, not even Jonathan’s, and he wandered alone.

ONE day he went with Jonathan to the Maquis to find unrest in the camp. The man Michel called scar-face came running up and declared that two children had been abducted when their father had refused to a demand from the Nazi’s. The Maquis were going to free the children and needed all the help they could get. Michel was relegated to the outside with a gun. He was supposed to be watching for intruders. He felt a buzz of adrenalin. He had never been on a mission yet. The group reached a grand red house on the other side of the forest. It had been Mr Fargent’s house. Michel supposed the old man was dead now. They could see the movement of bulky frames behind the windows.
“Nazi’s.” Tomas whispered. Michel was bid to stay in the forest and to sound the alert if there was trouble. The men slowly moved out of the trees and disappeared. He glanced in all directions.
“Michel Pierre.”
Michel jumped as a ghost of a whisper reached him.
“Oui?”
“It’s Mr Partouche. My children are being held in there by the Nazi pig Herr Ebert. He wants me to give him all my money and my guns. I refused so he retaliated by taking the children. Are the Maquis in there?”
Michel turned and saw the man sitting camouflaged in a nearby tree. He started to reply when Mr Partouche disappeared, a small explosion sound following. There was no time to think. Michel saw the man in a green uniform step around the tree, saw the gun aimed; saw the gun fire. He felt the jolt of the bullet as it entered the chest. He saw the red liquid pour out of the hole. He heard the last breath and the last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet him.

“Michel. Wake up.” The noise of a slap, no pain. Michel groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on the green floor of the forest, needles pricking his back. Jonathan was kneeling on the floor next to him, worry oozing over his features, then relief.
“He’s awake.” He called to the man around. They all breathed a sigh of relief. Jonathan gently slipped Michel’s shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to see where he got you.” Michel was very confused.
“But I’m not hurt. I didn’t get hit. He did.” He pointed towards the trees.
“Who?”
“He killed Mr Partouche, and then I. I… I killed