The Mill

The sun had only risen into view. Carmen rolled an old heavy wheel toward a worn cart. The wheel had been repaired by one of her father's old friends. Where the stone had gouged out the wood was still clearly visible. Carmen inspected his handiwork, running her fingers over each ripple. A sturdier job could not have been done.

She scanned the marketplace as she rolled the wheel onto its rusted hub. He would be out there buying bread any time now. She would meet up with him again, eventually. Carmen secured the wheel and backed the cart into its corner. She only had to have Danté and Rose's shoes reset. That wouldn't take long. She had to know this man, this "Quasimodo."

"Carmen!" Elsa called from the kitchen.

"Coming." She stumbled over her own feet as the wood she was standing on began to slide out from beneath her.

Elsa pulled her into the small kitchen.

"Would you mind going to the mill this afternoon?"

"Me?"

"Carmen. I don't want to worry you, but you must go because your father can't."

"I don't understand… Why…?"

"Every week your father goes out to the mill for flour and wood. That's an excuse. The packet from my sister? It's medicine. For your father." She nodded.

"What do I have to do?"

"Leave after the noon bells, take the west road, turn left at the big oak tree. From there you're be able to figure it out."

Carmen threw a rope onto Rose and Danté and led them out of the small stable and toward the farrier. Clopin stood in his puppet wagon, surrounded by children and a few young women. A typical morning in Paris.

She passed Dante to Jehan after stating what father wished to be done. If only her orders would be followed, or rather the orders of her father. The only reason they even considered her words was her father, who was friends with many of the locals. Since he sent her, they must have felt it necessary.

She patted Rose's neck and ruffled her red mane. Another horse appeared beside her, white and much taller than Danté. The horse stood as if a statue, in full tack.

"Achilles, stay."

The man walked to the farrier, leaving his horse untied. The horse did not move.

Carmens eyes led her back out to the square, scanning the variable crowd for a certain blue-cloaked figure. The puppet wagon was deserted. Her scan ended at one of the cathedral doors, where the bell ringer emerged, a basket in hand.

Only when the farriers assistant passed Roses' reins into her hands did Carmen realize she was once again losing her focus. She watched as Dante was led to the back of the lean-to.

Her eyes again wandered to the square. There he was. Quasimodo. She smiled. Carmen watched the man, mesmerized. "Who are you, Quasimodo?"

The white horse nickered. A golden-haired man in armor approached.

"What is it, ol' boy. See someone you know?" The white horse nodded his head, the golden-haired man looked into the square. Carmen followed his line of vision to the bell-ringer, whose name she kept saying to herself. The man smiled, he must have known him.

He patted his horse. "Good to see Quasi of that dark old tower of his, isn't it Achilles?"

The man looked at the girl, her horse, then the girl again. His expression was kind, as if he wanted to say something. He was almost laughing, the corners of his mouth fighting to remain still. Carmen stared at him blankly. Was this man lunatic? He began to speak.

"New to Paris, I see." Leaning with one arm on his horse, he motioned with his gloved hand toward the square. "Seems that you have yet to meet our Quasi."

"I'm not that new, I've lived here nearly two months. Yes, I've met the bell-ringer. Well… once. Briefly." Carmen watched the square as she spoke, following the man's path.

"Then you haven't really met him. You should." The man scratched his horses neck as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the girls every move. Carmen turned to face him.

"Why?"

"I see the way you're watching him so closely." The blonde man let the smile emerge, he really wasn't as dumb as he looked. "A look like that has only one meaning."

At that moment Jehan stepped up and handed Danté's reins to Carmen. The blonde man did not have to put much effort into convincing her to go. She hopped onto Danté, then reached down to untie Rose. The blonde man set the rope into Carmens hand, grinned and then led his horse in to be shod. Quasimodo was beginning to approach her fathers shop. If she hurried, she would be able to meet up with him.

Carmen dusted of her skirt. She scrambled around madly for something to make it appear as if she'd been there all morning. She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her carving knives, definitely not. Her lute was in the loft. She seized a broom and began to sweep the dust out of the stable.

As the bell ringer came into view, Carmen began to sweep closer to the door. She gathered the dust toa pile. Luckily, the floor was actually quite clean to begin with. He stood only a few feet away when she stopped sweeping. She walked over to him. Looking to him, she realized his face was not hidden. In a brief instant, her eyes scanned his entire body from his crooked legs to his hunchback and nearly hidden left eye. Such a strange looking man he was.

Leaning the broom against the wall, she smiled at him.

"Bonjour."

"Carmen?"

"Monsieur Bell-ringer" Carmen nodded, still smiling.

"Quasi." The man smiled as he spoke. So he didn't mind his name.

The blonde man was right, she really didn't know him. Carmen could feel him watching her every move intently, as she remained silent. Oh! How she wanted to know him! When or how was the question. Taking a step away from the stable toward him, she nearly tripped on a piece of wood. That was it!

"I'll be leaving in the cart for the mill this afternoon and could use some company…" His head lifted as she spoke. "Come with me?"

"What?"

"I'm going to the mill this afternoon and need company. It's quite far. Will you come along?"

"The bells." He motioned toward Notre Dame with his large hand. "I… I… I can't."

"I will wait for you. Please? It may not be safe for me to travel alone."

The bell-ringer nodded. Hopefully Elsa wouldn't mind, of course, there was little she could say. She was not there to say no. As for being in the company of a man? Quasimodo was a member of the church, not exactly dangerous. Eyes such as those could not lie. Then again, she really didn't know what she was getting herself into. Carmen only knew what she had heard about him, which wasn't much.

"Meet me at the bridge after tending the bells."

"I will." He gave a quick smile, then disappeared in the direction of the cathedral.

Carmen put the broom away and pulled out her knife. She sat in the barn and chipped away at a wooden sign, carving a fish. Scales of wood fell onto the floor as she continued to sit in the stable, listening for the noon bells. She pictured Quasimodo silhouetted by the light, as she had seen three weeks ago. He certainly was unusual.

The bells began to toll as the last bits of wood fell out of the leaping fish. The other side would have to wait.

He had agreed awfully quick to come with her, a woman he didn't know to a place he'd probably never been. Then again, maybe he wanted to get out of the city and was willing to grab any opportunity that came along. No, it had to be something else, something simpler. Carmen thought of the blonde man with the white horse, who referred to him as "our Quasi" only moments before. It couldn't be, could it?

Discounting the idea, she threw a wine skin and some bread under the seat of the cart.

Leading Rose out of the stable, she looked up to the loft of her narrow home. The window shutters were barely open and she could not see father. As the last peal sounded, Elsa rushed out of the kitchen to send her off. Elsa told her the directions once more and what she was supposed to pick up.

"I'll be fine, Elsa. Don't worry. Now I really should go now if I'm to be back for dinner."

"I suppose you're right. Here's some wine if you get thirsty and a basket of rolls. Oh and don't forget these!" Elsa dropped a bundle of cakes into Carmens hands. Dear Elsa, as close to being a mother as she could ever be.

As Rose began to trot through the square Carmen looked toward Notre Dame's towers. They were so high, would he be there? She couldn't wait long.

As she approached the bridge, a blue-cloaked figure with red hair came into view. He leaned on the side of the bridge and watched the Seine. Carmen whistled, his attention remained on the water. She stopped the cart directly behind him and he turned around.

"Carmen. I thought we were…"

"Walking? No. It's pretty far." Quasimodo looked at the horse and cart nervously. "Rose will get us there and back in lots of time." He looked skeptical. "She's been pulling this cart for years, nothing will happen."

Carmen followed Quasimodos line of vision to the wheel.

"It's safe." Reaching out, she took his hand into her own and guided him into the cart. As he stepped inside she realized how small her own hand was compared to his. Her callused hands slid easily over his own calluses. Carmen watched as he gently made himself comfortable on the wooden seat, adjusting his shirt. One hand on the side of the cart, the other on the edge of the seat, his expression told her he was ready. Carmen tapped the reins over Roses' back. She was safe with him.

The cart bounced along the rutted dirt and stone road, Rose choosing her footing with care. Taking a sideways glance at her companion it became apparent that he was engrossed in his surroundings. Had he never been out of the city before? The way he watched as the trees and fields passed by led her to believe so. They really were not that far out of Paris, for the towers of Notre Dame remained within view.

After pushing the stray tendrils of black hair behind her ears, she let a few words pass her lips. "See something interesting?"

"Oh.." She must have startled him. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined. Are those cattle? They look so, so peaceful." She followed his line of vision to the edge of a forest. He turned, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm surrounded by such beauty!"

As they approached the oak tree, Carmen tried to remember which way Elsa had told her to turn but couldn't. Rose turned left. The trail was less worn, but Rose would know for sure. She looked over to her companion.

"Good thing the horse knows where we're going, eh Quasimodo?" He appeared worried until she began to laugh.

"So this is where the mill is. Esmeralda has mentioned it before, but I've never seen it this close."

"We'll be there shortly." He said nothing, but smiled yet again as he continued to drink in his surroundings. "You'll just love my aunt, Diane. She's very kind." A spark lit in his eyes.

"The miller's wife is your aunt?"

"What do you mean, Quasimodo?" She picked up the reins, adjusting them in her hands.

"Quasi."

"Sorry, Quasi" she swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"Clopin has mentioned that you're one of his tribe."

For a brief moment she just stared at him in disbelief. Had he just said what she heard him say? She looked ahead where the mill was coming into clear view.

"Look, Quasi. There it is." She nodded toward the tower of the mill, four monstrous blades of wood slowly turning.

As they got closer to the mill, she caught sight of Diane, who was busy hoeing one of the many small gardens. The windmill was turning, yet remained, to a large degree, a frame of wood and iron. The house, however, looked finished. A thin trail of smoke rose from the chimney. Two small children ran about the yard, chasing a young pup, which bounded about merrily.

Quasimodo stared at the mill, his large eyes focused high and neck craned to catch sight of the top of the blades as they turned. Watching the way he held himself, Carmen realized that he couldn't reach his head back as easily as she could.

As the cart approached, the puppy began to bark wildly. It then left the children, ran under Diane's skirt and down the dirt path. Diane began to shout at the puppy. She then began to shout at the eldest of her children, who ran after the puppy. Quasimodo shot Carmen a nervous glance, she couldn't help but laugh. As soon as Diane caught sight of Rose, her scowl melted away into a warm smile.

"Carmen! So nice to see you again! And on such a lovely May afternoon! Diane ran toward the cart, dropping the hoe onto the damp grass. "Who is that you have…" She stopped speaking as soon as they came into view.

Rose slowed to a stop beside one of the gardens.

"Wasn't expecting you today. Well, now that you're here, you may as well come in. You can't just bring a guest and expect to leave without tea, Carmen." Her words were sharp, yet meant in kindness. Having grown up with Elsa as a mother, she was used to such words.

In the time it took for Quasimodo and Carmen to put Rose in the barn, Diane had laid tea and biscuits on the table. She quickly ushered them to the large rough-hewn table, where they sat directly across from each other, Quasimodos back to the wall. Diane gently pushed a dish of biscuits before the bell-ringer, who didn't seem to notice. He watched as a large pot boiled on the hearth.

Suddenly, Quasi jumped back slightly, his eyes wide open.

"Poilou!" The boy dashed under the table, reappearing with the puppy in his arms. Quasi seemed relieved that the attacker was merely a pup.

"Mommy." The boy tugged at his mothers' skirt and pointed to Quasimodo, the puppy squirming in his other arm. "Who is that man?"

"He's the bell-ringer of Notre Dame, darling. Now go outside and play"

As the boy walked toward the door his eyes remained fixed on Quasimodo. Quasimodo smiled shyly. The boy grinned. Then he ran outside and shouted to the other child "See! I told you!"

"Why all of this?" Carmen whispered to Diane.

"Why, it's not every day a hero comes to our mill. Here you are, young man" Diane poured a cup of tea for Quasi and smiled at him.

"I'm no hero." Quasimodo watched the tea as it was placed before him, then looked at Diane, confused. "Merci."

Carmen sat there for a moment, looked at Quasimodo, looked at Diane, then Quasimodo again.

"Oh don't you just love that, he's so modest" Diane chuckled as she walked past Carmen, returned the kettle to the fire and sat down at the table. She touched Carmen's arm, nodded toward Quasimodo, who sat across from her at the table and began to speak. "You know, just over four months ago, he saved the city from burning to the ground, defeated our oppressor, saved the life of a gypsy girl…"

"Wait a moment. Quasi. You did all those things?"

Diane liked Quasi, there was no mistaking it. She went to every length to ensure his comfort. The children loved him, the puppy wanted nothing but to lay by his feet, giving his toes the occasional lick. The time went by quickly. Soon, it was nearly time for the ringer to return to his bells.

Carmen placed the medicine under the seat of the cart and bid Diane goodbye with a warm hug. She swore she could feel her ribs cracking as Diane gave her one last squeeze. As she lessened her grip, she whispered into Carmen's ear.

"If there's anything I've learned in my thirty-one years, it's about matters of the heart."

"Pardon?"

Diane leaned in a little closer. "He likes you, my dear."

Carmen began the start of a laugh. Diane held her finger between their faces. "He's a good man, Carmen. He is a very good man, even with his obvious... flaws." Diane looked toward Quasimodo as he played with the puppy. "Elsa will learn of this eventually. Does she know?"

Carmen shook her head. "He's a friend."

"You will have to tell her, anyhow. She will need time to accept this."

Leaving Diane to bid Quasi goodbye, Carmen hitched Rose to the cart and began petting her velvet nose. While Quasi was talking with Diane, she stepped into the cart. She arranged the bag of flour and baked goods. A moment later Quasi had seated himself in the cart and they were on their way home.

The ride back was far more interesting than the ride out. Having heard about the siege of the Cathedral, Carmen was amazed at the bell ringers strength and bravery.

Rose champed at the bit to get home sooner. Pulling the reins slightly, Carmen turned to face Quasi. A piece of wood must have fallen from the back of the cart. A small piece lay in his hand with a glint of silver. He smiled at her. Carmen liked silence, it gave her time to think. This silence was agonizing.

"So why did you finally leave the bell tower?"

Quasimodos eyes sparkled slightly. "Oh no, Carmen. It's your turn." The corners of his mouth curled up, baring his jagged white teeth. He laughed under his breath.

She couldn't help but smile as well. "What is it you would like to know?"

There was a pause. "How does a gypsy woman, grow up away from her family, knowing nothing of her people and customs?"

His question wrenched her heart. She turned toward him, her eyes locking into his. Firmly, she repeated his question. "How does a gypsy man, grow up away from his family, knowing nothing of his people and customs?"

Quasi frowned. The guilt struck her almost instantaneously. The silence continued.

"Perhaps you have a question that I can answer?" Carmen gave a nervous half smile.

Quasi nodded "It would be best, I suppose." Setting his finger to his chin he thought for a brief moment, then pulled his finger away as his lips parted. "Do remember how you came to live with the carriage maker?"

Carmen proceeded to tell him what happened that night as the scene repeated itself in her mind, as she stared off into the distance. She mentioned no names. Through the corner of her eye, saw Quasi wince ever so slightly when she mentioned the three-cornered hat with the flowing tassel.

She told him of how she'd been covered in garbage, then adopted. She told him about how she'd lived in Paris for a few years, then grew up in a small village in the countryside. She told him about how Gabriel had shown her how to cut wood and to always measure twice and cut once. She explained how Elsa struggled to teach her how to cook, how she tried so hard to be the good daughter and look after her family. A few tears formed in her eyes when she spoke of the shadowy man that she could not shake from her mind and the images of gypsies that would appear sometimes. Quasimodo watched her speak. Carmen finished her tale while crossing the bridge.

Rose fought to go home, yet stood near Notre Dame as Carmen's passenger stepped out with a large bundle of bread, cakes and wine. He stood before her, looking up at her face. His lips parted slightly, his hand lifted near his chin, yet he said nothing. His eyes closed and he shook his head slightly. Before he could pull his hand away Carmen guided his hand to her own chin. Quasimodo face flushed into a shade that rivaled that of his hair.

"I will see you tomorrow at noon, Quasi?" He nodded shyly, then scooted off into the Cathedral to tend to his bells.

Approaching the house Carmen watched the upstairs window. The shutters remained closed. Elsa was nowhere to be seen. Letting Rose go, she vaulted out of the cart with father's medicine in hand. Rose would wait in the barn for her. Something wasn't right.