Chapter 4: Essays and Automata
Throughout the night, Hugo tried to figure out how his father knew the notebook and the designs would come into his son's hands. Maybe he didn't- he could've been planning to give them to Hugo as a gift. Hugo just happened to stumble upon them upon entering the abandoned workshop. Eventually, Hugo fell asleep and dreamed of dozens of automata holding pens and their free hand holding their designs. They were writing on notebooks, and suddenly the automata looked up, each with Hugo's father's smiling face on them.
A loud knocking sound woke Hugo from his strange dream. He groggily opened the door.
It was Isabelle, fully dressed with her signature beret on her head. She looked as excited as ever. What for, Hugo didn't have a clue. Of course, being excited and happy was normal for Isabelle. Maybe she liked her new book.
"Hurry up, Hugo!" Isabelle said, excited. "It's nearly five o' clock! You have to tend to the clocks, help Papa Georges, eat lunch, try to build the automaton, eat dinner, continue trying to build the automaton, get Papa Georges to help you, and-"
"Okay, calm down Isabelle!" Hugo said, still feeling sleepy. Now he knew why Isabelle was acting so hectic today. Today was the day that he, Hugo, would start building the automaton that his father designed. "You realize today is a school day…"
"Oh, right," Isabelle said, pausing to think. "Well, wind the clocks. Then go to school, and come back home to build the automaton!"
With that, she left, heading towards the kitchen at the end of te corridor outside Hugo's room.
Hugo threw on a striped shirt and his old jacket, along with a pair of brown shorts. He made his bed and took a look at Papa Georges' automaton. The new automaton had to be somewhat close to this one. It's just the programming, the little parts that made the automaton do what you wanted, that were different. The rest (the parts that allow the machine to move and follow the programming) should be the same, as both designs have similar purposes.
Hugo turned back to the doorway and found Isabelle talking to Papa Georges at the kitchen table, presumably about the new mechanical man. The two had told the old man about the designs that they'd found, and they told him about their plans. Papa Georges was absolutely delighted, although he added that he was afraid age had taken its toll on his ability to create and build.
"Of course," he said immediately, his eyes twinkling. "Between you lot and me… let's just say I'm still the very same Georges Méliès, and I believe that I continue to possess a few ruses up my sleeve in the world of machinery." He looked at Isabelle.
"Ruses are tricks used to swindle or hoodwink someone, Papa Georges!" Isabelle sighed, exasperated. "Am I the only person in this room who bothers to find accurate definitions of terminology that is scarcely used?"
Papa Georges gave Hugo a wink. Hugo grinned and said, "Come on, I'm going to the station. Are you coming today, Isabelle?"
"Yes, of course," Isabelle said. She picked up her book, which had a bookmark in the middle already, from the table and pocketed her heart- shaped key. Papa Georges stood up, saying: "I ought to be getting to my toy booth- I made many toys last night and I think everyone will like them quite a lot."
He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a small figure of Hugo. The children gasped. Every single detail was included into the figure, from Hugo's signature brown jacket to his long, messy hair (which was now capped with a top hat). Papa Georges wound the figure up, and the miniature Hugo walked around, doing mini- sized magic tricks.
Papa Georges put it in his coat pocket again, and he led the two children to the train station. Isabelle smiled, amused, at the look on Hugo's face after they saw the miniature Hugo Cabret. She guessed, though, that she would react in the exact same way if, for example, someone wrote a book about her without mentioning their plans before.
Consequently, she kept quiet.
Hugo made his trip around the clocks as usual. This morning, it took rather long as many of the clocks had to be wound. Isabelle was finished another quarter of her book by the time Hugo was finished.
"This is some ingenious work," Isabelle said, closing her book shut reluctantly. "I never realized so much could be done with biology and chemistry. Do you think this would be more in the fantasy section?"
"I don't know," Hugo said, wiping the sweat from his brow after he finished the last clock. "Technology always seems to be growing. Maybe in a hundred years, they could actually create this jaguar with talons."
"That sounds fascinating," Isabelle said dreamily. "To create artificial life… that's kind of like your automaton there!"
"That's what clockwork can do," Hugo said proudly. He realized that the automaton would never be truly alive, and of course, so did Isabelle, but it had kept him company during those lonely months at the station before he found his new family.
Hugo and Isabelle went outside the station for breakfast and found the café that they went in yesterday. The same band was playing some lively tunes and a few people placed coins in a hat before the musical group.
Hugo bought a sweet crêpe with strawberries, while Isabelle ordered a gallete bretonne topped with cheese, ham, and an egg. Hugo took out his father's instructional notebook and flipped through it once again. There were probably over a thousand different parts, and Hugo had to make all of them from scratch. He wasn't sure how fast he could build it completely, but Isabelle seemed positive that Hugo could finish it very quickly.
"You fixed an automaton burned to pieces in months," Isabelle said confidently. "You didn't have many tools or the right materials for the parts. You fixed it from windup toys. You can probably finish this one in maybe two months! First, you have Papa Georges to assist you, and you've had experience from last time…"
"But Isabelle, I still have to make every part from scratch!" Hugo said.
"Papa Georges took away your notebook for most of the time while you fixed his automaton…" Isabelle countered.
The arguing went on for a while, until Isabelle realized it was almost time for school. They had brought their textbooks and notebooks with them, so they headed straight to the school.
Hugo pushed open the door, letting himself inside, and a boy immediately greeted him.
"Ready for the second- to- last day of school, Ticktock?" The boy greeted Hugo and Isabelle with a friendly tone.
"Hello, Antoine," Hugo and Isabelle said together.
"Hey!" Another boy pushed Antoine out of the way. They seemed very similar in appearance, for they both had sleek, black hair. However, Antoine was taller. "You're much later than you usually are. Today, you're actually on time, not fifteen minutes early! That's a first."
"Come on, brother Louis," Antoine said, winking mischievously. "We'd better go collect our books! Class is almost starting."
The two boys skipped away, making a turn into one of the classrooms.
"I never figured it out- are Antoine and Louis actually brothers?" Isabelle asked curiously.
"No," Hugo said. When he came to the school, he was delighted to find that Antoine and Louis, his best friends, were enrolled at the school, too. They were so surprised to find him they forgot to call him Ticktock for the first few days.
"Come on, we'd better go to French class now," Isabelle said, leading the way through the school to the Madame Fleur's French classroom.
The class started with the usual "Bonjour, les étudiants!" said by Madame Fleur, and the reply, "Bonjour madame!"
The class then proceeded with a writing assignment. The students were given pens, ink, and parchment, and they could write anything of their choice. Isabelle stared at the parchment in deep thought.
What should I write about? Isabelle thought slowly. A mystery… a murder… a secret piece of parchment…
She dipped the pen in the dish of ink and set it on the paper. Then, she began to write:
"Once upon a time, there was a man named Monsieur Noir. He was always dressed in black, and he seemed to live entirely on his own. He had no friends, no family, and no enemies.
That changed one night.
Monsieur Noir was discovered on the floor of his apartment three days after he mysteriously disappeared from the streets of France. There was no sign of any skirmish except a broken cane that was said to belong to be him (a likely theory, as it was completely black), a torn piece of fabric from Monsieur Noir's frayed, black jacket, and a blank piece of parchment ripped cleanly in half…"
Isabelle wrote for a long time, until Madame Fleur announced the time to hand the assignments in. She would read each of them and give feedback the next day. Isabelle handed her work in happily, as she'd finished a few minutes before time was up. Hugo, on the contrary, seemed frustrated.
"I was nearly done," he said later. Then, he admitted, "But having a giant mechanical dragon as a topic didn't really fit in China, which was my setting… what do you think?"
"Well, dragons are the national symbol of China," Isabelle said absentmindedly. She was thinking about her writing, and how Madame Fleur's feedback would matter a lot. After she received her French grade for this trimester tomorrow, she could see if she was fit as a writer.
It's just a grade, Isabelle thought. It's not going to affect my whole career… what am I thinking? It would be nice if I receive positive feedback, but it's not that serious…
Isabelle and Hugo went to mathematics, history, and geography. Then, it was time to go home.
"Come on, let's go see how Papa Georges is doing at the station," Isabelle said.
Papa Georges was closing up shop for the day. Through the metal grate, Hugo could see that there were no small models of him left. He took this as a successful day for the old filmmaker.
As Hugo expected, Papa Georges greeted the children with a radiant smile.
"Hello, children!" he said brightly. "How was your day today?"
"It was…" Isabelle started. Then, she looked at Hugo. "It was a pretty good day; geography was as boring as usual."
"Ah, yes," the old man agreed wistfully. "Never liked the subject much… I had to use it for my films anyway."
Then, he looked at the children, as if he wanted them to ask how his day was. Hugo realized this and said, "How's business at the toy booth?"
"Business is better than ever before!" Papa Georges responded immediately. "Everyone wants to get their hands on the Puppet Professor! It can do ten different tricks, you know."
"That's good to hear," Isabelle said. "Speaking of tricks- you said you have some for building the automaton?"
"Yes, that's right," Papa Georges said with a more serious expression. "We can start right after dinner, Hugo. I think we can finish within two months…"
Isabelle grinned at Hugo, mouthing, I told you so.
Dinner that night was full of laughter. Mama Jeanne talked about meeting a stray cat outside the apartment. Papa Georges chattered about the success of his new invention. Hugo talked about the ever- so- boring geography class.
Finally, Isabelle mentioned her story. She explained what it was about, and she summarized the whole plot. The family was silent for a second.
"I wish you were the writer for all of my films!" Papa Georges said with a warm smile. Everyone laughed.
"Sounds better than mine," Hugo said, grinning.
"You could put drawings with it, don't you think?" Mama Jeanne suggested.
"Oh, but it's only a French paper," Isabelle said, embarrassed by the sudden praise.
"No matter," Papa Georges chuckled. "This story is worthy of being published! I believe you could be a successful writer as an adult- I only realized it when you wrote that story about Hugo and yourself. Now, you've proved it once again… of course, I would like to see the actual draft, too. I truly can see you as an author."
Dinner ended with more talking and laughing. Isabelle returned to her room, feeling very happy. Not only did she feel that her paper was good enough- she finally knew her purpose. It was a bit different from Hugo's concept, as fixing things and- metaphorically- people wasn't really a career.
Someone lightly knocked on Isabelle's door.
"Come in," Isabelle said.
"Come out!" Hugo's voice drifted through the door. Isabelle walked over and opened it.
"Don't you want to see me start building the automaton?" Hugo asked.
That's right. Isabelle had completely forgotten about the designs.
"Yes," she answered eagerly. The two friends walked into Hugo's room.
The automaton was moved to a corner of the room. The clockworks that were usually on the workbench were cleared off and placed into a metal bucket. The workbench now sat in the middle of the room, with the designs beside it.
"Papa Georges should be here at any moment," Hugo said, excited and nervous at the same time.
Papa Georges came in, looking just as agitated.
"I wonder what this automaton could do," he said anxiously. "It could write, draw, or do both… in the notebook there was an implication that the left hand was capable of pinching things… it could turn pages, we need a large notebook for it to write in…"
"Papa Georges, calm down!" Isabelle exclaimed amusedly. "You haven't even started building the automaton yet, you don't have to worry about all that!"
"True, true," Papa Georges said, calming down slightly. "I haven't worked on a machine like this for years… I have gotten a bit overexcited, I must admit. I'm extremely looking forward to looking forward to what it does…"
"That probably won't be for another three months," Hugo said.
"Don't be pessimistic- we don't have school," Isabelle countered. "I say two months… at most!"
Hugo shook his head slowly; it was as if he knew something Isabelle could not ever understand (Of course, it was usually the other way around, though saying that out loud would be much to Isabelle's consternation).
"Cela est impossible!" he replied tiredly.
Papa Georges chuckled and pulled over the bucket of tools and parts. Isabelle frowned and picked up a book that she would read when Hugo and her godfather started building the automaton.
"Ok, fine," Hugo sighed, giving in. He fished a few gears of different sizes and a few small shafts out of the bucket. Then, he picked up about a dozen nuts and bolts along with a hammer. Setting them down on the workbench, picking up his hammer, and readjusting the notebook so that he could see it better, he added: "We're aiming for two months."
With that, the clockworks and mechanics in his brain started to move.