If you're wondering who worked as a bell ringer, I'll tell you the answer - it was Quasimodo. His life wasn't easy as Nesila's life. He had to be the whole day in the bell tower and ring the beautiful bells. They were making a beautiful music by their ringing. Quasimodo was, unfortunatly, half deaf of their music. He was also half blind. He could see everything around him just with one eye. He was quite short. Quasimodo had a hunch on his back. That's the reason he was called the Hunchback of Notre Dame by people. They have never seen him, but they knew he is half formed. How? Stories are going through the town for years.
Where is he now? He went to the stone railing of the south bell tower and looked outside. It was very beautiful day. Sun was shining brightly, little birds sang their morning song. However, everything was peaceful. He looked at one gargoyle's mouth - there was a nest and a baby bird in it.
' Good morning,' Quasimodo said softly to the little white bird, which cooed softly in the mouth of the statue. ' You ready to fly? Is today gonna be the day? ' he asked the pile of downy feathers. The bird just hid under its wing, as it would say: ' I don't know, I'm not ready yet.'
' You sure? ' Quasimodo asked. ' It's a good day to try! ' Little birdie looked at the migratory birds who were leaving the cathedral. The poor little creauture was still thinking: ' To fly or not to fly? I'm too scared.' ' Why?' Quasimodo asked the little bird when it replied by whistling to him. He picked up the bird from the nest. ' If I could pick a day to fly; oh, this would be it! The Festival of Fools.' He outstreched his hands over the stone railing. The colourful tents and booths were being set up in the square. The calls of the gypsies echoed off the stone colossus. ' It'll be fun! There'll be jugglers, and music;' A beat of air blew against his hands as the baby bird began to flap its wings and float; slowly, but steadily above his embrace. ' And dancing, and...' He stopped after the bird reached the height of his head, holding his hands up for the bird to see as proof that it was flying, and was ready to leave. The bird opened its eyes and looked at Quasimodo, then back at the ground beneath them, and released a lovely, confident chirp as it stopped flapping its wings and fell back into the hunchbacks waiting hands. He started laughing softly at the accomplishment right as the flock of birds flew by, the cooing echoing like a call to the baby bird to join them. The bird in question began chirping wildly, looking between the hunchback and the flock, as if to say it was eager and ready to leave the cathedral it had grown up in. Inside, Quasimodo felt a pang of jealousy. But it didn't bother him for the moment. He had bigger things to attend to. With a kind smile, he stroked the scruff on the bird's head.
' Now go on! Nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever!' The young man recoiled one of his hands as the baby bird began to flap its small wings and take flight, trying to catch up to the rest of its flock.
The hunchback watched with silent content as the flock of birds disappeared into the light of the sun to the right of the Palace of Justice, free to go and come as it wished. Quasimodo sighed with a sadness. He really wanted to go outside and see the world, but he was afraid that people would judge him if he comes out. A loud gagging sound interrupted his thoughts. ' Ugh!' the gargoyle spit the straw out of his mouth, combing the stray bits from his tongue with his cloven hooves. ' I thought that rat would never leave! I'll be spitting feathers for a week!' He complained as a bunch of white downy feathers poured from in between his bottom teeth.
' Well Hugo, that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth open!' The gargoyle on Quasimodo's left answered to the plight of the talking statue. ' Ha ha ha, go scare a priest,' the gargoyle mumbled under his breath, knowing Victor had been right. He quickly forgot what he was mad about and leaned over into Quasimodo, a playful glint in his grey eyes. ' Hey, what'cha watchin'? A fight? A flogging?' he guessed as the hunchback looked down at the festival being set up below them.
' A festival, ' Victor guessed leaning in on the boy's right. The gentle giant nodded, his ginger locks blowing in the light breeze. ' You mean the Feast of Fools?' Hugo guessed with so much enthusiasm Quasimodo doubted when Hugo said he couldn't fly.
' Uh huh,' he replied in a bored tone, despite the giddy atmosphere. 'Alright, alright! Pour the wine,' The pig like gargoyle held out one of his arms in a pouring motion. ' And cut the cheese! ' he started armpit farting, much to Victor's dismay. ' It is a delight to witness the colorful pageantry of the simple peasants.' he added. Hugo scooted over, knocking Victor to the side as he vied to cheer his friend up. ' Nothing like balcony seats for watching the old FOF, eh Quasi?' he peered down at the square below. A huff came from the twenty year old man, his eyes were dark and bored. ' Yeah; watch,' he said halfheartedly and turned to walk away from the balcony, the sight of the yearly tradition too much to bear. ' Hey, wait! What gives?' Hugo turned to the hunchback, who didn't answer.
Victor followed the gargoyles gaze, his face etched with confusion. 'Aren't you going to watch the festival with us?' he called out to Quasimodo as he turned the corner to go inside the bell tower. ' I don't get it, ' Hugo admitted defeat as Victor looked over at him fellow gargoyle with a look of horror striking his face. ' Do you think he's sick?' he asked breathlessly.
' Impossible!' Laverne hopped hands first, a flock of pigeons following behind as he came closer. ' If twenty years of listening to the two of you hasn't made him sick by now,' He scoffed and hopped to the ground from the stone railing, the pigeons trailing behind like a shadow. 'Nothing will.' He finished with a small cackle.
Meanwhile...
After Clopin arranged everything for the play on the Festival of Fools, Necille went home to rewrite the scripts of Marino Darsa's Miser. To make her way shorter she took a carriage to her house. The time was very important to her! She must rewrite this all and give it to the gypsy actors to learn it. She jumped out and ran to her house as fast as she could. She wasn't watching where she was going and she bumped into a gypsy girl. Both of them fell on the ground. ' Oh, sorry, miss, are you alright?' the girl quickly stood up and approached to Necille. Necille looked up at her then at the book. It was in the puddle! ' Oh, no! ' Necille took the book out of it. It was all wet now!
' I can't believe it! And the book isn't even mine! ' she cried. ' Hey, calm down, ' the gypsy girl consolted her.
' I'm sure we can dry it somehow. '
Necille panicked in her mind a little. She doesn't have much time left. The Festival of Fools was about to begin for one hour and she hasn't rewrite anything yet! ' How?' Necille was worried. ' The Festival begins for two hours and I-' Necille replied worried. ' You are part of the Festival too? ' the girl asked surprisingly. Necille stopped worrying. ' Yes, why? ' Necille asked.
' Because I'm dancing on the Festival, ' the girl smiled. ' I'm Esmeralda, nice to meet you.' She provided her a hand. Necille took her hand and shook it. ' Very beautiful name, ' she smiled.
' I'm Necille. '
' Wow, ' Esmeralda said with surprise in her voice. ' That's very beautiful name. And very unusual. ' Necille giggled lightly. ' Thank you,' she said and ran her fingers through her brown hair with red shine. ' You're new on the Festival? I haven't seen you before,' Esmeralda said. ' Oh, yes,' Necille replied. ' Well, I wanted to be famous just for a day. '
' And what is your profession? ' Esmeralda asked her. ' Well, I'm actually a merchant daughter, so one day I might be doing my father's job,' Necille said. ' But I really love to roleplay and sing.' Esmeralda became more interested when Necille said roleplay and sing. ' Can you sing something to me? ' Esmeralda asked her. Necille looked around. The square was full. People walking and chatting. Necille blushed. ' I don't know, ' she said. ' What if everybody start to stare at me? ' ' Look, if they see you and start laughing, keep singing,' Esmeralda said. ' Close your eyes and pretend that no one is there.' Necille shrugged and sighed. She closed her eyes as Esmeralda said. She started to sing One of Us. ' Before I got to fighting, ' she started. ' Or when fighting got to me, I looked to find examples on a field of chivalry. And I saw mighty arms much stronger than my arms could ever be so I thought, perhaps, the field was not for me.' People heard her and gathered around Necille. ' But still I started to watched The fighting, till one figure stood apart, in armour newly fashioned and a helm more Pot than art, but each blow was thrown with honour and the lightness of the heart so I took that Step which soon became a start, ' Necille continued to sing and she smiled, because it seemed that people like her singing. ' Cause she was not the biggest fighter nor one to raise a fuss, but I remember being proud that she was one of us and we might never stand together in the shield-wall side by side, because of her, I lift my sword with pride.' The crowd gave her a great applause. Necille did a little plié.
Meanwhile...
When they heard applause outside, Quasimodo and the gargoyles thought that festival has already began. ' That early? ' Hugo asked. ' It was always beginning in the noon! ' The gargoyles jumped to the railing. ' No, it didn't begin yet, but I see up from here that crowd looks very happy,' Laverne said. ' Oh, and there is a girl singing over there! ' Quasimodo rose up his head and walked to the stone railing. He looked over. Laverne was right - there was a girl. Quasimodo was surprised by their unbelieveable physical similarity. The hair, the eyes. ' Wow, ' Quasimodo said. ' We could be... Brother and sister. ' He sighed with the sadness in his voice. He walked back inside the tower. He sat down by the layout of the Paris. ' I wish I had a sister,' Quasimodo sighed. It was ovbious he felt lonely. The gargoyles were worried for him. Laverne jumped to him. ' Quasi, what's wrong?' he asked him and patted his shoulder. ' You wanna tell your old Laverne all about it?' The boy gave a small grunt. ' I just don't feel like watching the festival, okay?'
' Well,' the gargoyle said. ' Did that thought of going ever come to you?'
' Sure, ' he admitted. ' But I'd never fit in out there. I'm not...' Quasimodo paused and took the figure from Laverne, looking at the beautifully thin figure, delicate features, lack of scars. ' Normal,' the hunchback deadpanned and set the woman back down on the table, to which the fatherly gargoyle chuckled lightly and picked up the wooden masterpiece, twisting it indifferently in his stone gray fingers. ' Quasi,' he began as one of the pigeons landed on his nose, and he lost his patience. In an instant a string of horrible swearing that would have made a drunk man shiver flew from the gargoyle's mouth like the ten pigeons. At this moment, Hugo hopped on the table, and took a figure from the bell towers. That figure was a hunched wooden chunk at wat abstract at best, the features like that of a seven year olds drawing; which it in the simplest of terms was. Quasimodo had been carving since the age of six, his self portrait being a source of inspiration to continue after Frollo complimented the resemblance of it; to which the boy hadn't understood at the time. He hadn't the heart to change it, the crude figure being exactly what he thought he was: ugly. ' Stop beating around the bell towers. What do we gotta do? Paint you a fresco?' he took the figure of Quasimodo and placed it among the villagers in the square. ' As your friends and guardians, we insist you attend the festival, ' Victor piped up from behind and pulled the hunchback to turn around on the stool, his thin composure holding quite a bit of muscle. ' Me?' Quasimodo questioned as if he hadn't heard the statement correctly.
Hugo stifled a giggle. ' No, the pope,' he held a pope figure in his hands, then knocked Quasimodo on the head with it playfully. ' Of course you!' he gave a piggish smile. ' It would be a veritable popery,' Victor snatched the pope figure from Hugo's cloven hoof and held it aloft. ' Of education,' he finished as the other gargoyle interrupted him. ' Wine, whittlers and then some!' Hugo juggled three of the carved people like an expert in his hooves. ' You could learn to identify various regional cheeses,' Victor began once more only to be cut off once more. ' Bobbin' for snails!' Hugo held up a big bucket of water with slugs in it. ' Study indigenous folk music-' the thinner was stopped short as Hugo dumped the bucket of water on his head. ' Playin' dunk the monk!' he laughed confidently at his prank.
At this, Quasimodo stared ahead blankly, unsure just what, if anything, had changed his opinion about going. He had cheese as well as wine when his Master came to visit, and didn't think much of it. Bobbing for snails sounded disgusting, and he didn't find any humor or justice in drowning anyone; much less a monk.
' Quasi, ' Laverne placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. ' Take it from an old spettatore.' He removed the hand and indicated himself.
' Life's not a spettatore sport. If watching is all you're gonna do,' He walked his fingers on the air. ' Then you're gonna watch your life go right on by without you.' He finished with a knowing smile. ' Yeah!' Hugo piped up as Victor was beginning to peel slugs from the bucket away from his stone features. ' You're human, what with hair and flesh and bone and heart,' he thumped the boy's chest. ' We're just part of the architecture.' Hugo then thumped his own chest to reveal the solid sound of rock clicking onto rock. ' Right Victor? ' he nudged the thin gargoyle, who gave him a death stare. ' If you chip us; do we not flake? And should you moisten us,' Victor peeled a slug from his hip. ' Do we not moisten?' he flicked the moist creature onto Hugo's head, who started shrieking in a desperate effort to remove it from his head, the gargoyle placing the bucket over Hugo's head to silence him. ' Quasi, just grab a fresh tunic and a clean pair of hosen,' Laverne wrapped both arms around the hunchbacks enormous bicep. ' And just-'
The boy held his other hand over Laverne's, his gaze dim and unchanged. ' Thank you all for the encouragement, but you're all forgetting one very important thing.' He eased the old gargoyles hands off of his arm and waited for an answer, but got three 'whats'.
' My Master, Frollo, ' he deadpanned and produced a figure of his master; also an early work, but far better than his self portrait. A chorus of saddened agreement came from the statues, Hugo tossing the bucket aside after having gotten rid of it and the slug. 'Well,' Victor held his head in his chin. ' When he says you're forbidden from ever leaving the bell tower; does he mean ever ever?' he looked for a loophole, to which the hunchback quickly responded.
' Never ever! And he hates the Feast of Fools.' the bell ringer deadpanned, twirling a strand of ginger hair in his large fingers. ' Master would be furious if I asked to go.' A mischievous smile surfaced on Hugo's face. ' Wait; who says you gotta ask?'
' Oh no,' Quasimodo shook his head, his eyes alert with dread. ' You sneak on out;' Hugo illustrated by walking his cloven hoof in a bouncing motion. Laverne also voiced his opinion. ' It's only for one afternoon.' He nodded.
' I-I could never-' Quasimodo stuttered. ' And... you sneak right back in!' The fat gargoyle mused at the horrible plan. ' The vecchiaccia will be none the wiser!' Laverne agreed.
' And if I got caught-' The hunchback ran both beefy hands through heis hair, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead at the thought of it. 'Better to beg for forgiveness than to ask permission, ' Victor stated matter-of-factly. ' But if he saw me-' Quasimodo suggested setting the figure of his master beside the figure of himself. Hugo grabbed an old curtain that was a shade of burgundy and full of holes; just like their plan. 'You could wear a disguise!' he suggested wrapping himself in the worn fabric like the habit and robes of a nun. ' It's only once! What Frollo doesn't know, can't hurt him! ' Hugo began to clumsily sneak around, ending up behind Victor, who looked at his fellow statue with a look of mutual respect. ' After all, ignorance is bliss!' he chuckled as Hugo hopped on top of himand gave him a noogie, wearing away the chips in his weathered horns. ' Nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever!' Laverne gave the bell ringer a small punch to the arm, to which he smiled at. They were all right. It wouldn't be that bad. And as much as he hated to admit it; he didn't want to stay in the bell tower forever. Just once would be enough; knowing the odds.