As the morning bells of Notre Dame ran out through the cathedral, the disfigured form of Quasimodo swung down from where he had been working, landing on the main floor below. He stumbled his way out the balcony, overlooking the city. This was a favorite pastime of his as there was not much else to do here other than ring the bells all day.
He was a slender hunchback figure. But despite his grisly appearances, he was very handsome, with pale skin, both red hair and eyebrows, and blue eyes that sparkled with kindness and warmth. He was slightly buck-toothed and had a deformed face, plump arms, and a humped back. The only clothes he ever owned and only ever wore was a green short-sleeved tunic with both a brief V-neckline and an olive collar, brown tights, and blue shoes.
He made his way to the frozen forms of his gargoyle friends, Victor and Hugo. One of the gargoyle statues had his mouth open, with a bird's nest safely nestled inside, sheltered from the wind. At Quasimodo's approach, the little bird that was inside opened his eyes and awakened, chirping his good morning to the world.
"Good morning!" Quasi said, smiling fondly.
The bird squeaked its approval.
"Will today be the day? Are you ready to fly?"
The bird hesitated for a moment before looking away, this time squeaking out its disapproval.
"You sure? Good day to try. Why, if I picked a day to fly, oh, this would be it! The Festival of Fools! It will be fun-the jugglers, and music, and dancing…" Quasi said, trying to urge the baby to at least try.
The bird, who had been resting in Quasi's hand, had begun to flap its wings. Quasi slowly removed his hands until the bird was hovering in place. He chuckles and showed his hands to the bird, who finally realised that it was flying. It squeaked joyously to his friend, then a question, as a flock of birds flew by.
Quasimodo nodded his head understandingly. "Go on! Nobody wants to be cooped up here forever!"
The bird flew off to join the flock, leaving his friend's hand and soaring into the sky.
Oh, how Quasi wished he could fly away as well, leave this place far behind.
As soon as it's gone, Hugo, and later, Victor - the gargoyles - came to life. Victor was a tall and slender gargoyle, handsome, with big wings and no horns. Hugo on the other hand, was a short and obese gargoyle, with a pig-like nose, stony body, both white horns and hooves, and small bat wings on his back.
Hugo spat out the nest.
"Oh, man! I thought he'd never leave! I'll be spittin' feathers for a week!"
Victor snorted. "Well that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth open."
Hugo gave a sarcastic chuckle. "Heh, heh, heh...go scare a nun! Hey, Quasi! What's goin' on out there? A fight? A flogging?"
"A festival!" Victor cheered, looking down.
"You mean the Feast of Fools!?"
"Uh huh." Quasi said. He had sobered some since the bird had left.
"All right, all right! Pour the wine and cut the cheese!" Hugo made farting noises in his armpit.
"It is a treat to watch the colourful pageantry of the simple peasant folk."
"Boy, nothin' like balcony seats for watching the ol' F.O.F."
Quasimodo rolled his eyes at them, dejected. "Yeah, watching."
Quasi turned and left, obviously sad.
"Hey, look-a mime." Hugo hocked up a phlegm in his throat, and was about to spit, when Victor
covered his mouth.
Hugo is forced to swallow his prize as Victor nodded towards their friend. They proceeded
inside to Quasimodo as another gargoyle, Laverne, caught up to them.
Hugo called over to him. "Hey, hey, what gives?"
"Aren't you going to watch the festival with us?" Victor questioned.
"I don't get it."
Victor watched him, worried. "Perhaps he's sick!"
"Impossible," Laverne snickered. "If 20 years of listening to you two hasn't made him sick by now, nothing will."
Laverne was a slender gargoyle, elderly, and had big wings like an eagle, and pointed horns that rested atop her head.
Victor was still lost. "But watching the Festival of Fools has always been the highlight of the year for Quasimodo."
"What good is watching the party if you never get to go hear it?" Birds have begun to roost on Laverne and she waved them away irritably. "Get away from me, go on, you bunch of buzzards! He's not made of stone, like us."
Laverne goes to Quasi, who was at his table with a model of the city and small toys painted like townspeople.
"Quasi, what's wrong? You wanna tell ol' Laverne all about it?"
"I...I just don't feel like watching the festival, that's all."
Laverne could tell the boy wasn't fessing up. "Well, did you ever think about going there instead?"
Victor was all for this idea. "Sure!"
Quasimodo lit up with hope for a moment before looking away, fear and sadness masking his face. "I'd never fit in down there. I'm not...normal."
"Oh, Quasi, Quasi, Quasi." She paused as the birds have returned to perch on her again. "Do you mind? I'm would like to have a moment with the boy, if it's alright with you!"
Hugo came over and rested his hooved hand on Quasi. "Hey, quit beating around the bell tower. Whadda we gotta do? Paint you a fresco?"
"As your friends and guardians, we insist you attend the festival," Victor said, smiling at his friend.
Quasimodo was shocked by this. He had often thought of going down and joining the city for once in his life...but actually doing it? That was another matter entirely. "Me?!"
Hugo appeared with a figurine of a Pope, from Quasi's tabletop scene. "No, the Pope. Of course, you!"
Victor shoved the Pope figurine in Quasi's mouth.
"It would be a veritable pope-pourri of educational experience."
Hugo pulls the figurine out of Quasi's mouth. "Wine, women and song!"
"You can learn to identify various regional cheeses!"
"Bobbing for snails!"
"And the indigenous folk music."
"Dunk the monk!"
Laverne shook her head at them before returning her attention to the boy. "Quasi, take it from an old spectator. Life's not a spectator sport. If watchin's all you're gonna do, then you're gonna watch your life go by without you."
Hugo nodded. "Yeah, you're human, with the flesh, and the hair, and the navel lint. We're just part of the architecture, right Victor?"
"Yet, if you chip us, will we not flake? If you moisten us, do we not grow moist?"
Laverne ignored him. "Quasi, just grab a fresh tunic and a clean pair of hose and-"
"Thanks for the encouragement, but you're all forgetting one thing," Quasimodo said. All the planning and scheming wouldn't mean a thing in the end.
"What?"
"My master, Frollo."
The gargoyles deflated dejectedly. "Oh, yeah, right…"
Victor was silent for a moment before he spoke. "Well, when he says you're forbidden from ever leaving the bell tower, does he mean "ever ever?"
"Never ever! And he hates the Feast of Fools! He'd be furious if I asked to go."
"Who says you gotta ask?" Hugo questioned.
Quasimodo was horrified by the very idea. "Oh, no."
Hugo wasn't having any of his excuses. "Ya sneak out…"
"It's just one afternoon…" Laverne pushed.
"I couldn't-"
"...and ya sneak back in."
"He'll never know you were gone."
Quasimodo was almost starting to agree with them. "I mean, if I got caught-"
"Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission."
Quasimodo hesitated. "He might see me."
"You could wear a disguise. Just this once. What Frollo doesn't know can't hurt you!"
Victor nodded. "Ignorance is bliss."
Hugo looked aside. "Look who's talking…"
Laverne smiled gently and turned him to her, quoting him from earlier. "Nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever."
Quasi thought for a moment, then a smile creeped across his face. He could do this...he should do it. why not? He had spent his entire life up here, obeying every word from his master. He deserved this, just one day with them was all he needed. And if he wore a disguise then no harm done, know would would have to know.
"You're right! I'll go!" The gargoyles cheered at their friend's newfound courage. "I'll get cleaned up. I'll stroll down those stairs. I'll march through the doors and-"
Quasi and the 'goyles had been advancing on the door leading downstairs. As Quasi neared it, Frollo appeared in the doorway suddenly, cutting Quasi short and returning the 'goyles to stone.
Frollo looked down upon him coolly. "Good morning, Quasimodo."
"Ah-um, good...morning, master…" he stuttered, shocked, his courage vanishing the innocent he laid eyes on his master.
"Dear boy, whomever are you talking to?"
"My...friends."
"I see." He tapped Hugo on the head. "And what are your friends made of, Quasimodo?"
Quasimodo looked down guiltily. "Stone."
"Can stone talk?"
"No, it can't."
"That's right. You're a smart lad. Now...lunch."
Upon hearing the word, Quasi went off and retrieved a table setting-a silver chalice and plate for Frollo and a wooden cup and plate for himself.
"Shall we review your alphabet today?" Frollo asked.
Quasimodo nodded. "Yes, master. I would like that very much."
"Very well. A?"
"Abomination."
"B?"
"Blasphemy."
"C?"
"C-c-c-contrition."
"D?"
"Damnation."
"E?"
"Eternal damnation!"
"Good. F?"
"Festival."
Oh no. As soon as the word slid through Quasi's lips he wished he could take it all back.
Frollo spat out his drink at the incorrect response.
"Excuse me?"
Quasimodo stuttered to try and fix his mistake. "Forgiveness!"
Frollo stood, his voice quivering with anger. "You said...festival."
"No!"
"You are thinking about going to the festival."
Quasimodo sighed, knowing there was no point in lying. He followed after Frollo as he made his way over to the balcony. "It's just that...you go every year."
"I am a public official. I must go! But I don't enjoy a moment. Thieves and hustlers and the dregs of humankind, all mixed together in a shallow, drunken stupor."
Quasimodo flinched at his tone. "I didn't mean to upset you, master."
"Quasimodo, can't you understand? When your heartless mother abandoned you as a child , anyone else would have drowned you. And this my thanks for taking you in and raising you as my son?"
Quasimodo felt his heart throb at the mention of his mother...All his life he'd never had a mother. He'd had Frollo who had washed and took care of him as a baby. He'd raised him and taught him how to read, taught him all the wickeds of the world...like the gypsies. The gypsies frightened Quasi more than anything had ever frightened him. Frollo had taught him how evil they were and their manipulative ways. They were demons sent from hell to take all the good in the world and fill it with witchcraft and sin.
How could Quasi have even thought of betraying such a good man as Frollo?
"I'm sorry, sir. "
"Oh, my dear Quasimodo, you don't know what it's like out there. I do...I do…"
He led Quasimodo out to the balcony where they overlooked the city. He rested his hand across the hunchback's shoulders, even though the very feeling of being this close to the boy was nauseating to Frollo. "Quasi, the world is a cruel and wicked place to live. I am the only one you can trust in this city. I am your only friend. I can look upon you without fear, unlike all the others who would scream and hate you for your appearances. I can not protect you unless you remain in here."
Quasimodo nodded sadly, tears stinging in his eyes. Frollo was right as always. He was deformed and ugly, a monster. No one would ever trust him, befriend him...love him. He would always remain alone.
Frollo continued, looking ahead without remorse as his words cut Quasimodo through to the bone. "Your ugliness is a crime that the world will show little pity for. I am your one defender and out there, they will only revile you as a monster"
"I am a monster," Quasi repeated softly.
"Out there they would scorn you."
"Only a monster…"
Frollo looked down slightly, knowing he had him. "So. Quasi. Be faithful to me and i will protect you."
"I am, Master. I am," Quasi said, nodding obediently. "I'll stay in here."
Frollo nodded and then went to leave.
Quasimodo looked after him guiltily. "You are good to me, master. I'm sorry."
"You are forgiven. But, remember, Quasimodo: this is your sanctuary."
Quasimodo looked around sadly, feeling trapped and hopeless. "Sanctuary."
Frollo turned, and then was gone.
Quasi stood silently for a moment, and looked around.
Was this to be his life? Was there really nothing more for him? True, he was safe behind the windows and parapet's of stone, but he was alone. The closest thing he'd ever some to being out there was as he hid up in his tower.
All his life he'd stood by and memorized their faces as day after day came to pass. He knew them better than anyone, yet none of them even knew what he looked like. He wondered what it would be like to be with them, a part of their world and city, for just a day.
