Quasimodo, My Love:Part Two

Like I said before, the bases for this story, such as Quasimodo, were created by Victor Hugo, in his book, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Some other things were derived from the Walt Disney version of this story, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. VICTOR HUGO AND DISNEY OWN THE STORY! I HAVE TAKEN LIBERTIES WITH THIS STORY!!!


=========================================================================================== I awoke the next morning. Today was the Feast of Fools. Tense as I was from last night's discoveries, I hurried to get dressed and was anxious to see Charlotte.
I knew that I must attend the festival today so that I could finally get over the haunting dream that had plagued me the night before. After the festival, I knew that I must go to the cathedral and see him. I knew I had to tell Quasimodo how I felt, or I would be tortured by this agonizing feeling of wanting.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Charlotte and I were as bored by the play as I had seen in my dream. We made our way with the crowd to the square, me all the time anxious and Charlotte all the time excited. I tried to distract myself and ease my tension by listening to Charlotte's constant babble. We reached the stage, and As the music started I looked up. I gasped in alarm.
My nightmare had come alive. There was the handsome gypsy man that had pulled me onto the stage in my dream. I knew it was silly, but I convinced Charlotte to move to the back of the crowd anyway. As his brown eyes scanned the crowd, he saw me, just as in the dream, and winked at me. I lowered my eyes and shuddered.
In a moment of bravery, I darted my eyes to look behind him, seeing what I feared I'd see; the gypsy witch of my nightmares was there again.
Soon, the election began. With there horrific masks on, the Fools gathered onto the stage. Just as in my dream, ten gathered on the stage, and the man scanned his eyes in the crowd for more. He looked my way, and I watched I horror as I saw him raise his hand to point toward...
A guy in the crowd wearing a hood.
I breathed a sigh of relief, and watched as they brought the hooded figure forward. Bent over, as he was, he looked like an old man.
"Come on up, sir. Clopin will help you up." So that was the gypsy's name. Even though he had been a nightmare the night before, I still could not help but notice how handsome he was.
"La Esmeralda, if you will," said Clopin, giving a faux bow,"Let the festivities, BEGIN!"
The girl walked to the front of the line, pulling of the first contestant's mask. "This one isn't right. No, nor the next. Or the next. Goodness, this will never do. These next six are simply horrid. Ah, but this last one; he has potential! Esmeralda, pull off this chap's mask!"
With this, the smiling girl stooped down to pull off his mask, stepping on his cloak in the process. With this, the cloak fell, and so did the girl's smile, for this "mask" was no mask at all, but his face! The cloak fell to reveal a hunched over body, covered by a dirty tunic and white-as-snow skin. His hair was a coarse red-brown, and his face was covered by disfiguration and shame. I saw my beautiful hunchback breathe in short, quick gasps as the crowd gaped, and I realized that he was having a panic attack. He bent over, as if in pain, and covered his face, trying to block out the cruel world.
"Yes! We have found him!" The shocked crowd turned to look at Clopin, who was now standing with one foot on Quasimodo's back, laughing his head off. "The most gruesome face in all of Paris is here! We have found, our King of FOOLS!!! HAHA!!!"
With this, Clopin jumped over Quasi's back, taking a crown from Esmeralda and placing it onto Quasimodo's head.
The crowd burst into cries and applause, taking the confused hunchback to the rickshaw prepared for the king and placing him in it. The crowd began to roam through the streets of Paris, taking their new king with them.
I was so confused. How did he come down without being noticed? Why did he come down? What would happen to him when they grew tired of their "king"? And...where was Frollo?...
Oh no......
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I hurried along the street, trying to catch up to the crowd. I tried to process everything that had happened through my head. Frollo must attend the festival, being the archdeacon of Paris, as a public official. He must have see the "crowning," so where could he be? If he caught up to them ther was no telling what he might do to poor Quasimodo, and I tried not to think about it.
Charlotte jabbered on behind me, still enthused over the new "king," and I struggled to ignore her as I ran."Isn't this exiciting, Ashley? Can you believe this year's king? Ugh, I still have shivers. Did you see his FACE? It was absolutly HIDEOUS!"
I spun around, ready to defend." Don't you ever call him ugly again, Charlotte! He looks different, okay?! I could hardly what he looks like, and you...you-you do not even know him. Excuse me!...>have to catch them, or it will be all my fault<...."
Charlotte looked at me as though I had slapped her in the face. In a moment, she regained her spirit and hurried after m, calling,"Ashley, wait! What is the matter?Do YOU know him?...Wait, Ashley, I was only joking, but--you do spend so much, time, at thte cathedral, and--doesn't he live there? Oh, Ashley, wait!!! How will it be all your fault? What will?.....!"
So she had heard my mutterings at the end. I shrugged it off. It didn't matter now. the only thing that mattered was that I caught up to them...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I breathed harder and faster. I was catching up to them now. When I finally reached them, I saw that they had lowered the rhickshaw and had placed him atop the hangman's stage, where the the archdeacon stood before convicting the guilty. Even now there stood an old man, lying witherd in the stocks, his only entertainment being the townsfolk who chose to throw rotten food at him each day. Today he looked reaky for a new bit of entertainment, a happy smile on his face.
The King of Fools stood, watching over his subjects, tears of joy streaming down his face. Even now, in all his mockery, he looked as wonderful as I could ever imagine him. I moved as close to the stage as the crowd would allow, and I tried to catch his eye. I saw that he still could not see me, so I pushed closer still, knocking over a disgarded vegetable cart as I went. The crowd turned to face me, saw what I had done, and a devilish look lit up their eyes.
I watched in horror as I saw a man bend down to pick up a rotten fruit, and the rest of the crowd cheered their mighty king, he threw it and hit him him in the face. I saw the juices splatter down his face, and he looked up in alarm at his offender. The crowd laughed, and began to join the man, shouting and laughing out of sheer cruelty.
It felt familiar as I saw the sky go red. I watched in utter terror as they battered him over and over again with rotten food. He finally caught my eye, and he gazed at me with pleading sadness. I cried. Tears streamed down my face as I sank to my knees, but no one noticed. I felt hands on my shoulders, but I pushed them away. I looked at him as he cried too, for what seemed like an eternity, but he finally looked away, down to the platform, shielding his eyes from further assault. His body shook with bone-shuddering sobs of anguish.
My breath came in short, quick gasps as I tried to will this nightmare away. Soon Quasi would pull away from them and come swinging down to rescue me from this torture. I told myself that over and over."All my fault...all my fault..."
I looked up to see if he really had stood up to swing down to me, and was met with the witch of my dreams. The gypsy vixen had climbed to where he now stooped, and the throwings ceased. All grew grew silent, and I watched in agony as she touched the hair of my angel. He looked up in alarm, and flinched when he saw her bend down to him to help him up. She smiled an encouraging smile, and he cautiously accepted it. They stood, and she turned to face the crowd.
"Shame to all of Paris on this day! This poor creature is a kind bird in a cage, that you have chosen to poke sticks at! Shame!"
I then saw, from the corner of my eye, the man who I feared would come. Claude Frollo stood, and directed his men to arrest the gypsy Esmeralda. Esmeralda looked his way, and in an instant, disapeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Quasimodo alone, left only to run to the belltower.
It was all too much for me. My hands slipped off of their cobblestone support, and the world faded to black.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I felt gentle, callused hands on my face as I wandered back into conciousness. I looked up to see two faces; one familiar, the other frightened. The frightened one I quickly recognized as Charlotte, but the I could not place, though I felt that I had seen it before, in a dream...
My nerves seized up, and my hands fled to my heart. The tanned, gypsy face curved into a smile, and he turned to Charlotte as if to say, I told you so.
I tried to remember where I was, and a flood of horrifying memories came back all at once. In reflection of those memories, a single tear slide down my face.
"Ah, so you finally decided to wake up, little priestess. What's this? Tears? I assumed that you had cried all the tears of the world already, as we found you fainted in a puddle. Do, not cry now, child. You have been through quite a tale, and you must not bring it all back to your eyes so quickly."
"Oh, Ashley, I thought that you shan't would wake again, my friend. Um, Clopin, saw you fall, and he came over to me and helped."
So it was Charlotte's hands that I had felt on my frame before. I reached up to feel my head, which was not throbbing with pain. I flinched as I felt a bump staring to form.
"You had quite a bump the head, there. Now, my dear, I know that you have been through much, but please, tell me, what has happened to you?"
As I stared into his honest, questioning eyes, I felt compelled to tell this near stranger everything. With Charlotte nearby, I began to relate my friendship of past years. Charlotte's eyes grew wide, and both she and Clopin gave oneanother a knowing look.
"Ah, little priestess. What an appropriate namesake. Charlotte here told me all about your...holiness, spending every afternoon in the cathedral. I found it quite hard to believe that a girl of twenty years should find joy in a church. I naturally expected that a young month had, oh, stained the holy cloth, but I never expected to have dealt with THIS. Imagine! In love with the Hunchback of Notre Dame! Few girls can claim such a thing, my dear."
I looked up in alarm. I had only recollected my friendship, not my newfound feelings. Charlotte looke at me in shock, saying,"The idea! Ashley, I sware I told no such clues. G-gypsy, take back those words, those untrue, filthy, awful--
"It's okay, Charlotte. He tells the truth."
Charlotte looked at me in shock, then at Clopin with embarassment and shame. He smiled cockily at her in answer. I looked back at the cobblestone.
"My dear little priestess, tis nothing to be ashamed of! Clopin has stolen many hearts in Paris, including your friend Charlotte's, and knows all the signs of a female in la mor."
Charlotte turned a deep shade of red, and looked at him defiantly. He only winked and kissed the air, making her turn away, blushing all the more deeply.
I stared at the gypsy. Something about him reminded of something important, and dangerous...
I suddenly remembered, and sat up to leave, sending a flood of dizziness over my eyes. Clopin turned toward me, a flash of seriousness on his face. And staring into those sweet, brown eyes, I somehow forgot all of my troubles. How could anything go wrong with such an angel to hold me in his gaze standing before me?
"He went back to the cathedral, Ashley. Surely Frollo will be there soon to give him his punishment."
He understood, and the gypsy witch's face flooded back to my mind's eye. "Clopin, is the gypsy girl...Esmeralda...is she troublesome?"
"She is...rebellious. Do not worry, little priestess. She is safe out of harms way by now." He didn't see what I meant. I didn't care if she was out of danger. I only cared if she was to bring Quasimodo into trouble with her."Tell me, Clopin--would she ever put anyone else in trouble with her?"
Realization. "She is goodhearted. She would not intentionally bring harm to someone."
He said this with sadness in his expressions. I understood. She had unintentionally harmed his heart, and I doubt that she knew or cared. I took a clue and stopped talking.
Soon I felt ready to stand. With Charlotte supporting me and Clopin holding my hand and my other side, I soon gained my balance. As Charlotte let go, Clopin spun around and held me at the waist with his strong arms. He stared at me with a rare sense of seriousness, captivating me with his gaze. I melted in his arms, and he soon was keeping me from falling, though he seemed not to notice. "The Hunchback is a lucky man," he said, passion in his rustic voice,"and he truly is the King of Fools if he does not see what is right in his grasp." With that, he bent down, his eyes slowly closing, his soft lips reaching mine, and holding me in their strength. I breathed in his sweet smell, eyes closed, savoring each moment. I had never experienced such a powerful feeling, and as he gently pulled away, I looked up at him, surprised. He slowly slipped his hands away, and his gaze lingered on me as he began to walk away. He passed by a shocked Charlotte, and he gaily skipped behind her, a mischievious smile on his lips, then kissed her on the cheek, jumping away just in time before her hand reached back to slap him. He laughed, his bells jingling all the way along the cobblestone street.
I knew it had meant mostly nothing, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, I had been wrong about his feelings toward Esmeralda...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My fingers went to my lips as I walked toward Notre Dame. My cheeks were hot as a blush slowly creeped over them. Even now, as I was going to the home of my true love, I could not help but think of the gypsy's strong arms around my waist and the feel of his breath on my skin. I could still smell the musk on my skin from his embrace as I went down the cobblestone street.
"A-Ashley! Where are you going? You can't go to the cathedral now! You heard what CLopin said, and besides, you are not well enough to go by yourseelf."
I turned back to stare at my friend. My sweet, caring, ridiculous friend. How had I been so selfish, as to go without saying goodbye, without thanking her for bearing the emotional stress of a lifetime?
"Charlotte, I'm sorry. Thank you, so much, for helping me. I know that this is a lot to absorb, but I have to go. You see...it's such a strange feeling, this love. It calls me, and tells me that I have to listen to it. I can't ignore it. You are such a good friend to me, and I'm sorry for the trouble that I've caused, but...I love him, Charlotte. I don't care if Frollo finds me, so long as he's safe. I love him.
Charlotte looked at me with a sense of intellectuality that I didn't know she possed. She said,"Go after him, Ashley. He's your true love."
Yes, he is my true love. Quasimodo, my love.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dark clouds hung over Notre Dame. I pushed open the fimiliar wooden doors, feeling that they were heavier than normal. I saw a statue of the Virgin Mary. Had she always looked as though she was about to cry? Of course. She was crying for my angel.
I looked around, but didn't see Frollo, so I went to our familiar eave in the wall, and climbed the stone stairway. Each stair was a mile high.
I reached the door, and listened for a voice, a sob, a sound, but heard nothing. I slowly opened the barrier between myself and my savior. The chambers were dark, and silent. The bed was bare, and as my eyes sweeped across the room, I saw a figure huddled in the center of the room. I walked, though I wanted to run, to that fimiliar figure, feeling a tear slid down my cheek as I went. I stood over him, unable to see his face. He made not a sound, but I saw a puddle of fresh tears beneath him.
"Quasi?"
Nothing.
I knelt down, gently putting my hand on his back. His shirt was ripped, and stained with vegetable juices. I closed my eyes, remembering that it was my fault that those stains were there. His hair was tangle and stuck in clumps from dried juices. He didn't move from my touch. Fearing the worst, that Frollo had satisfied the worst punishment, I placed my head next to my hand. I sighed in relief, hearing a heartbeat. I kept my face there. reating on his bare back, feeling the ripped lines on his tunic with my fingers.
I heard someone.
I tensed up, waiting for someone to find us here, all alone with nothing to protect us, but I soon realized that it was Quasimodo that I had heard. Soft sobs issued from his throat, and I listened in agony. I reached down to feel his face, and fresh tears wetted my hand. I wiped them away, then found his hand, holing it in my own. I let him cry, shedding tears myself.
I sat up. I went to his bedside table, and pulled out a new tunic from a drawer. I came back to him, coming to the other side. I held his hands for a few moments, then I helped him sit up. I leaned my head against his breast, his arms around me. I gently pulled away his mangled tunic, replacing it with the new one. His twisted body glowed pale in the dim light and, seeing where some fruit had soiled his perfect skin, I wet a scrape of cloth from his shirt, and cleaned him. I replaced his tunic, and I held him again. He never said a word.
Sobs still shook his body as i lay there in his arms. He had never cried this way before. The times that I had seen him cry, he usually tried not to, because he was stronger than that, and he didn't want to upset me. He was hurt beyond belief at this moment. I had hurt him beyond belief. I began to sob as well, his never ending, mine never stopping. I would hear those tears for the rest of my life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eventually, we looked at each other, our arms still wrapped around one another. He stared at me with pain unimaginable in his eyes, and I stared with a look pleading for forgiveness for what I had done.
"I'm sorry," I choked out, as tears continued to run down our faces.
He held me tighter, placing my head on his chest once more. Still sobbing, he replied "For what?"
"I-I knocked the fruit cart over. It was my fault that they--that they--oh, Quasi!"
"Your fault? N-no, t-that wasn't y-your fault. I-it wasn't y-your fault that I was born a-a m-m-mons-ster."
This brought forth another wave of sobs, killing a small part of me with each current.
"Quasimodo, you aren't a monster. You couldn't posibly be a monster, because I lov--"
He pushed my shoulders forward with his hands, staring at me angrily. "Ashley, look at me! I'm hideous! Stop telling me that I'm not a monster, because people who are not monsters aren't pelted with rotten fruit!"
He told me this with anger and hurt shining in his tear-stained face. His face changed, and he melted down again to a weeping child, upset that he had hurt me. He held me back against his breast, and we sobbed on.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When we had sobbed all that our eyes would allow, we stood, holding each other's hands. I looked into his eyes, the fimiliar blue deep in misery. My green eyes undoubtedly just as miserable, I stared at him, not understanding how he could deal with all this torment.
It had grown dark, as we had been crying for hours together. He looked out one of the windows, saw the stars, and told me that I should probably get home soon, but there was something that he wanted to show me first.
We walked up a seperate staircase that he used to reach some of the bells. There was a window behind a bell, and he carried me on his back as he climbed out, going to the roof of Notre dame. I gasped in wonder. Paris layed out in front of me, the Seine running swiftly below us. The stars shone down on us, and I caught sight of my old wishing star, but chose not to wish on her tonight. I stole a glance at my wish that I had held for so long, I saw that even he had small smile on his face when looking out at Paris, despite the events of the day.
I shivered with the cold. He took notice, and I saw him look at me with concern as he slipped his arm around me. I shivered again, but not from the cold. I sighed. I had to tell him.
"Quasi, I--"
As he turned to me, I felt all of my bravery slip away, and I couldn't find my voice.
"What is it?" Gosh, did his eyes have to look THAT gorgeus?
"Oh, nothing. I mean, doesn't it, doesn't it look beautiful?"
He smiled at me, but I didn't know why. I cocked an eyebrow at him and wryly smiled."What?"
"I just think it's amazing that you can talk about something being beautiful with me in the room."
The smile left my face. I frowned at him, and he looked confused.
"Quasimodo, you must have never looked in a mirror and looked in your eyes to say that about yourself."
I stood up, crossing my arms. I blinked back the tears as he stared up at me in confusion and alarm. Gosh, would he never understad that I loved everything about him, his gentlness, his kind, caring heart, and I loved his looks. I wouldn't settle for anyone else, no matter how handsome they were. My fingers raised instinctively to my lips as I thought this, a pang of guilt breaking inside.
He stood behind me, still confused, turning me around with his gentle hands. I looked up at him, and I could no longer control myself, staring into those sweet eyes, I carefully began to lean in, and as my hand reached up to touch his soft face, I slowly closed my eyes to his confused and startled expression...
*BONG*BONG*BONG*
I back away suddenly frightened by the sound of ten loud bongs from the city clock tower. Ten o'clock? Time had passed by so quickly, and we had not heard the previous tolls of the clock. He looked at me in alarm, and we quickly hurried back to his chambers. He took me to the staircase, but I was in no hurry. My mother wouldn't be expecting me to be late, but I could slip in at Charlotte's, who had no parents, and stay the night with her, and tell my mother that that was what had happened the next morning.
"Goodbye, Ashley. Thank you for...thank you."
I knew that it was to late now to carry out my previous plans, but I would be partially satisfied. "Goodbye, Quasimodo. Can I see you tommorow?" When he answered yes, of course, I stooped down, rested my hand on his shoulder, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. A bewildered hunchback stared back at me as I gazed seriously into his eyes, and as I turned to go, when walking down the staircase, I looked back to see him fingering his cheek as he shut the door...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, after I had told my mother about staying with Charlotte, I decided to take a walk through town and try to figure out my situation. As I walked, his image flashed over and over again in my mind, and I replayed the events of last night again and again, becoming more confused of what I was to do each time. I knew for a fact that I didn't deserve him, but I knew that I wanted him, and though it was selfish, it seemed to outweigh the other.
I heard a familiar accented voice as I rounded a corner in my path. I turned to look in the direction of the sound, and saw him there, my gypsy romancer, Clopin, entertaining a crowd of children with puppets. I moved closer, and he caught sight of me. As he continued with his children's story, I saw that he winkd in my direction. I smiled at him and blushed, going back along my path. I stared back at him as I went, not looking where I was going, which caused me to nearly run straight over the Archdeacon of Paris, Claude Frollo.
I jumped back, startled, and curtsied, embarassed and afraid. "Oh, forgive me, father. I was not watching where I was going."
Even though I did not meet his gaze, I could feel his frown of disapproval burning through my mind. "Yes, well see to it that you do so now on." He diped his head in reply to my curtsy, and I stared after him as he went by with his soilders. Two were left behind as they went, just finishing pasting a paper to a wall. When they had caught up to Frollo, I went to they poster that they had placed on the wall. It held a rough sketch of a beautiful girl, the words, "Wanted," and "L500" scrawled along the outline in brutish handwriting. I gasped, recognizing Esmeralda's face in the image.
Trouble. Big trouble.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "This is trouble alright, Little Priestess. We'll have to ensure that she gets into the Court of Miracles tonight, and stays there." Clopin was studying the image carefully, apparent heavy thought on his mind.
"The...Court of Miracles?"
"Where we gypsies hide from Frollo and his soldiers. We can live there without fear of being arrested. Fro;;o hasn't found it for twenty years, and let's hope to keep it that way.""wasn't she there last night? I mean, with all that happened, I would think that she would want to stay out of the law's eye."
"I'm sure that she did, but it's a big place, and didn't see her, though I usually do. When she comes home, I try to give her a shilling or two of my earnings.." Concern filled his face, and I felt a little upset that his feelings for her had been confirmed, though I wasn't sure why.
Our thoughts were interrupted by the sound of ringing bells. We looked toward Notre Dame, then at each other.
"I--"
He nodded, understanding. I smiled at him, and her returned the favour. After i had walked a few steps, I turned back to wave at him, but he was gone. Puzzled, I turned back to where I was headed, only to see his grinnig face ab inch away from mine. The rascal had cartwheeled over to where I was now standing. and had jumped silently next to me when my back was turned.With his eyes half-closed, he smiled at me seductivly, hands on his hips.Grabbing me with his arms at my waist again, he kissed me with more force than the last time, and this time, not being able to help it, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. He seemed surprised, for his lips faltered for a moment, but then returned with the same passion as before.
Whe he drew away, he sighed.He did not let me go as he had before; rather, he held me a bit longer, gazing at me romanticly with those choclate brown eyes.I stared at him in what can best be described as a mixture of surprise, love and strange confusion.
"We've got to stop ending our meetings like this," I said, a weary smile spreading on my warm lips.
"Yea verily," he replied, grinning seductively,"I say that we should begin AND end meetings like this.
I blushed as he lightly kissed my lips again, sending shivers down my spine. He slowly drew away, and winked at me, then ran down the street in his gypsy fashion, sending a made up tune:
"A-shley, oh A-shley,
To take a kiss from A-shley.
Be it soft, and be it sweet,
To get a kiss from A-sh-ley!"
I laughed as he cartwheeled and skipped gaily down the walk, singing all the way. When he was out of sight, my smile faded.Now I was more confused than ever before.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I drew nearer to the church of Notre Dame. I had made up my mind. Quasi was more important to me than anyone, and I had to tell him. As bells rang in the towers above, I walked inside the great stone building.
I climbed the long stairwell, trying to think of what to say. As I reached the door, I gently knocked, and was surprised to see it jerk open as soon as my hand left the frame. I faced a frightened Quasimodo, holding the door with such force that it might break.
"Oh, Ashley, I-I didn't realize that you would be here so soon."
Under normal circumstances I would have told him that I would com back later, but now was too important to leave. "Quasi, I have to tell you something--"
"Oh, yes, Ashley, well, you see...oh,um...come in."
I was puzzled. Watching him suspiciously, I stepped into his room. It was unusually untidy, with a few papers spilled on the floor, and a stool knocked over from his worktable. I turned toward him, as if to ask, what's wrong?, but he looked quite distressed himself. He kept wringing his hands, fidgeting and biting his lip.
"Quasi, are you alright?"
"Me? Oh yes, I'm fine. What was that you wanted to tell me?"
I sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. I turned away, picking up the lopsided stool. Crossing my arms, I began to pace the room. Suddenly, my eye caught sight where his bed normally was. He had placed a dark curtain around it. I stepped toward it. Frowning, I reached out to touch it--
Suddenly I felt Quasimodo's hand on my arm. He was right beside me, pulling me to face him. Startled, I drew in a quick breath. He looked frightening, staring at me as if to say,NO! He soon composed himself, though, and gently pulled me away to the door.
"I'm sorry, Ashley, but I'm really not feeling well enough to talk with anyone today. I-I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye."
"But Quasimodo, I--"
Slam.
I stood there in the dark, waiting to see if the door would open again. When it didn't, I slowly began to walk down the stairs. As I descended into the darkness, I thought I heard a voice, but then I heard nothing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Laughing, I struggled to keep up with my partner, barefooted in the streets of Paris. He spun me left, then right, then twirled me in his arms, a piper playing in the background. He lifted me above his head, smiling, sun shining on his tan face. I gazed into his soft brown eyes, still trying to keep up with the gypsy's ballroom dance. I stumbled, out of step, and Clopin laughed when I slipped in his arms. He had decided to teach me after I had seen the gypsies gathered in the square dancing for coins. I had begun a dance for all, even small children joining in.
"Why don't you join in?" he had asked me, and I rolled my eyes, commenting on my "gracefulness." With that, he told me, then I will show you how! and had grabbed me in his arms, spinning me to and fro until I had picked up somewhat on the rhythm.
We leaned against the caravan parked in the street, laughing, out of breath. I saw that the gypsy girls wore no shoes, and, following suit, I took of mine, feeling free and careless, as though I were one of them. He had now grabbed my shoes, holding them away from me as I tried to grab them. "Clopin, give them back!" I shouted breathlessly, still laughing.
"Stop!" My cries were interrupted back a harsh voice, which caused all the gypsies to turn to it's speaker. Minister Claude Frollo was there, on his horse, surrounded by his man. "Captain, take these filthy gypsies to the Palace of Justice."
A tall, blond solider stepped forward, sending the men toward us. Clopin swept me up in his arms, rushing me forward with his people. We ran forward, darting through corners and passageways, not knowing where we would go...
At least, I didn't know where we were going. But the gypsies seemed to have some sort of determined direction in mind. I looked up at Clopin, who was carrying me in his arms. His face was grave, and he looked forward, only turning back to check that all the gypsies were keeping up. I wondered why he was carrying me, when it would probably be easier to let me run beside him. Then it hit me. We were going to the Court of Miracles, and I didn't know the way. I would lag behind, and slow up the group, where we would be caught.
I turned back to look for Frollo and the soldiers, but they seemed to have lost us for the moment, though I could hear heavy hoofbeats behind us. When I could no longer hear them, we had reached an entrace to the sewers of Paris. I watched in horror as each gypsy jumped down into the underground tunnel, Clopin holding the doorway open. When the last gypsy had slipped down into the sewage, he swept my legs up into his arms, grinning at me. I stared wide-eyed at him, unable to believe what he was about to do. But before I could protest, he jumped down into the hole, him laughing, I shrieking. We landed with a thud, the bilge ankle deep. He waded through it, still carrying me in his arms. When my eyes had adjusted to the light, I gasped in horror, covering my mouth in shock. Row after row of skulls lined the walls, staring at me with their hollow eyes, sometimes grinning at me with missing teeth. I buried my face into Clopins shoulder, and I could feel him starting to smile. He squeezed me tighter and I relaxed.
Catacombs. Of course the entrance to the Court of Miracles would be through the Catacombs. Anyone who could stand the smell down here enough to go in, they would quickly turn back once they caught sight of the live-in residents.We moved down the tunnel, now caught up with the crowd. Some had grabbed torches off the walls, making the skulls look all the more erie. When we had reached the end of the tunnel, everyone stopped, and it went dead silent. Clopin looked as if he were counting, waiting for something. When he had couted to what looked like ten, The room turned pitch black. All of the torches had been extinguished.
From high above, another set of torches were lit, held by several skeletons. They laughed, jumping down to grab us. I screamed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Buried in Clopin's shoulder, I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping to will this awful nightmare away.
I opened my eyes when I heard the sound of Clopin laughing. He was in such hysterics that he almost dropped me into the sewage. I looked up at him in shock, and soon the room was filled with laughing gypsies. I looked at the skeletons, who were laughing as well. One of them PULLED THEIR SKULL OFF, and the others followed suit. They were gypsies as well.
I turned a deep red, realizing that these were the guards placed at the entrance to the Court. Everyone laughed as we filed into a now open secret door. As we walked in, I gazed in wonder, despite my embarrasment. Brightly colored streamers hung up from tents and poles. Intricately designed rugs hung on tents and all along the cobblestone streets. A minature Paris had been built within the walls of the sewers.
Clopin put me on my feet, still laughing, bent over now. as the gypsies wandered off in different directions, I noticed several of them stopped to talk with Clopin, thanking him for his help. I was confused. I thought that they all went at once, not much of a plan in mind other than to get here. Was Clopin...their leader?
I stared at him. He had finally stopped laughing, and was smiling as he surveyed his people's home. He caught sight of me staring, and busted out laughing again. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I'm sorry, Little Priestess, but I could not resist! We do not get many outsiders here, and the chance to scare one without popping 'em off, was too much! Too much!" He was still laughing as he put his arm around my shoulder, walking with me through to streets of their make-shift city. I glanced around at the dark faces, some smiling, while most sneered.We reached a particurally large building, with a piece of cloth hanging for a door. Clopin held it open for me, performing a mock bow. I laughed, walking inside. I was met with a council of gypsy men, staring at me with astonished expressions on their tanned faces. Clopin soon entered, placing his arm on my shoulder. The men looked as though they understood something, and turned back to their work. Clopin walked with me over to them, staring down at the table they were workin at. A large map of Paris with red dots all over was layed out, and Cloin looked at it with a worried expression.
"Now that their looking for the girl, it's put all of us in danger," said one of the men,"We can't walk down the street without one of Frollo's men there to arrest us."
"Aye, what say you, Trouillefou?" One of the men adressed Clopin. "Didn't you just get chased down here? Anyone captured?"
"No, we all made it here safely. We lost Frollo in a relatively short time, though his men are becoming less dense since that Captain Phoebus joined their horde."
"Yes, well you might have gotten here faster, if you weren't slowed up by..." The first man, a husky brute, cast his eyes toward me, then looked away when I caught his eye.
"Jacque," spoke an angry Clopin, "I'm sorry, did I ask for your opinion on how we could have gotten here faster? No? Well then, keep it to yourself. As long as I'm leader here, I'LL decide the strategies for reaching the Court."
"He has a point, Clopin. You know we can't trust outsiders here." Another man spoke this, avoiding my gaze.
"What was I to do, Louis? If I had left her, she would have been questioned and imprisoned."
"Wouldn't 've been imprisoned if she answered the questions." This was muttered by Jacque.
"What?" Clopin jerked his head to face Jacque.
"Come on, Trouillefou. Your already willing to risk all our lives for that whore! Why not find another little slut to endanger us?"
An enraged Clopin jumped forward, drawing a knife. Jaqcue spilled out of his chair, frightened for a moment, then angrily pulling out his own. As scared as I was, I could not help feeling angry myself. Without thinking, I picked up a knife from the table, and, holding it in my right hand, I stepped forward and slapped a surprised Jacque in the face. I kicked the knife out of his hand, grabbed his collar, and held my knife to his throat.
Through clenched teeth, I said,"Call me a slut again, and you'll be wearing your innards for a hat." I then spit in his face, while he stared up at me, eyes wide with shock.
The room was in standstill for a moment, then Clopin broke the stillness with a laugh. He doubled over, laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe. Soon the other men joined in, including Jacque. He sat up, pushing my knife away and loosening my grip. He picked his knife off the ground, then raised his arms in mock surrender. "M'Lady, forgive me. I had no idea that such a small girl had such a mouth or gaw. Haha!"
Clopin slipped the bread knife out of my hand, still laughing. "Well men, can she stay?"
"I don't reckon that that's up to us, Clopin! With a fight like that in 'er, I suppose she can do whatever she wants!"
"Haha!" Clopin swung me in his arms, smiling at me when I laughed and smiled back. We rushed out of the room, hurrying away to an alley accessed by a back door. He shut the door and had to stop to catch his breath from laughing so hard. We leaned against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position. His hand slipped into mine as we caught our breath, and I rested my head on his shoulder.
"I still can't believe you drew a piece on him!" Clopin's perfectly accented voice seemed to smile. "They definitely won't...um....use foul language to describe you again."
"I wasn't about to let that brute offend my honor," I playfully joked.
"Neither was I." Clopin's voice lost some of it's luster.
"I--I also didn't..." Embarrassed, I stopped talking.
"What?" Clopin turned to look at me. When I blushed, he started to smile again.
"It's just, I mean, I didn't want him to..."
"Come on, you can tell old Clopin, mo cherie."
"...hurt you."
Clopin stared at me a moment, then laughhttp://www.writing.com/main/portfolio.php?action=edit&item_id=1663522ed. "Who, Jacque? Oh no, that was just a little tiff, darling. It would have ended in two minutes, but your...interruption, ended it sooner."
"So, how would if have...ended?"
"Oh, Jacque might have lost the top of his ear, nothing serious, maybe a new scar. Why were you so worried that I might get hurt?"
I simply smiled up at him, burrowing my head further into his shoulder.
"Ah." He smiled now, resting his cheek on my head, holding me closer to him.
I knew what was coming next, but I still felt just as tingly when he lifted my chin and pushed my hair back out of my face as I had the first time. His soft lips reached mine, and mine eagerly pushed back against his own, his tongue gently brushing my lips.
Suddenly the door that exited to the alley opened, and we pulled apart in alarm. Another gypsy man stood there, embarrassed. "What?" Clopin frowned, irritated.
"Oh, well you see..."
"Yes, spit it out."
"We can't find La Esmeralda."
"What?" Clopin stood up in alarm.
"We looked all through the Court. She's not here."
"Are you sure?" I suddenly felt very out of place.
"There's talk that Frollo's trapped her in Notre Dame. Has the whole place surrounded by soldiers."
I gasped. Clopin looked my way, but I must have looked too shocked to give any suspicion that I knew about it.
"What's that?" The man turned to look over his shoulder."Oh. Clopin, they need to see you."
"I--" He turned to look at me. Walking over, he took my hands into his own. I nodded. "I'll be right back. Stay here, cherie."
He followed the man through the wooden door, shutting me in the allley. I sank to my knees. No. Nonononono....
He had acted so strange, a curtain was around his . He hadn't let me near it. She saved him from the crowd at the festival. She was trapped at Notre Dame. He would help her....
I stayed where I was, trying to figure things out. What would make him go crazy enough to disobey Frollo? The only time I had known him to go against what his master said was when he had gone to the Festival, and when he had become my friend. Why had he disobeyed him then????

.............love................

He came to the Festival because he loved the idea of being with other people, treated equally. He was my friend because he loved me...as a friend. "I will always love you."
He loved her.
Not me. He would never love me.
And why should he? I was sitting here, waiting for a gypsy man I barely knew, just kissing him minutes before. H ewas probably with her now, and she was holding up his chin, just like I had so many times, rubbing his lovely red hair, waiting to kiss him...
I shook this thought out of my head. She wouldn't kiss him. She didn't love him. She would toy with his heart, only to break it and run off with some handsome gypsy, possibly the one I was waiting for now. Or she would cause the death of all the gypsies, including herself. Frollo would kill Quasimodo for helping her. And I would be alone.
I will be alone.
A drop fell on my hand. The water was warm, spilling out of my eye. Just one tear. One tear could hod so much sadness.
I stood up to leave. I didn't know what I was about to do, but I went to the door. The wooden door was cracked open, and I pushed it slowly open. I was greeted by Clopin's upside-down face. He grinned down at me, backflipping to land on his feet.
"Couldn't wait for me, eh?"
I smiled. I didn't know how, but Clopin could make me smile when everything went wrong. Also, I felt a certain obligation to look happy in his home.
"Come, I will take you somewhere." He led me by the waist to a door a few feet away from the other one. Unlike the previous door, this one was blocked by a ripped tarp. It was dark inside. He lit a small oil lamp, and I looked around, surprised. It was his bedchambers.
I small bed lay along a wall beside me, and a desk lay against the other wall. A rug covered the floor, and the small light cast a romantic glow about the room. I turned back to look at him, and he cast me a lopsided grin, cocking one eyebrow.
"Here we may not be, interrupted." His accent was to die for.
He slipped his arms around me, and once more I melted in his arms.
============================================================================================ Part 3!