About four weeks later, Clopin woke up and went down to
breakfast. He kissed his mother good
morning and sat down at the table just as Jack came in the door carrying some
folded stiff paper.
"Hey!" he
greeted Clopin.
"Hey what?" Clopin yawned.
"Some kind
of message boy was just looking for you up on the streets."
"What did
he want?" Clopin raised an eyebrow.
Jack looked
down at the papers. "Well, he had a
message for you obviously. But who do
we know in Calais?"
Clopin's
heart jumped. "GENEVIEVE!" He bolted up and snapped the letter from
Jack's hands.
Rose looked
up from where she was working. "What's
going on?"
"Clopin got
his first letter from Genevieve," said Jack.
Sealing the letter was a bright blob of crimson wax,
which was imprinted with the crest of the University of Calais. Clopin broke it and unfolded the letter.
"What is
she saying?" Jack asked.
"Jack, let
Clopin read it first," Rose scolded.
Clopin read.
Dear Clopin,
I'm in! It took me about a week to get here, but everything's going well. I've gone through a whole new change of lifestyle. I have a new identity, new clothes, and (I know you're going to hate this) a new haircut.
Clopin groaned. He had loved Genevieve's hair because it was the most interesting part
about her. You see my friends,
Genevieve and her father may have been gypsies, but her mother was Parisian born
with golden locks. Genevieve had
inherited that trait and that's what made her such a marvel. Barely anyone had ever seen a gypsy with
blond hair. Clopin shook his head and
continued to read.
The
classes are great. No one suspects that
Jerome Chateau is really the sweet gypsy Genevieve Chat. I've already proven a point to these dopes
and they don't know it. I can fool
anyone! But not everyone is like that
here. I have two friends, Bartholomew
and Jamal. Bart is very intelligent and
studies the Greek and Roman gods a lot. I like to call him Zeus because he knows all. Jamal on the other hand, is loud and pushy, but he has a
heart. He sort of reminds me of you,
but then I remember no one can replace the great Clopin!
Clopin smiled at the fact that he was remembered so
fondly.
I take it you told my father where I am. That's okay. I didn't want him to worry.
I'm
short on time, but if you send me letters, give them to my father, and tell him
to send them through Langov. He'll know
what that means. Don't let Frollo get
you down!
With
love,
Genevieve
Clopin folded the letter and looked down at it. It was official. Genevieve was gone.
"Clopin,"
said his mother, "can we see?"
"Oh
sure," he said handing her the letter. He turned and went back upstairs. He dressed and grabbed his cloak. But as he turned to leave, he caught his reflection in the mirror. He stared at it for a moment. Something was different, but he wasn't sure
what. That's when he noticed. Genevieve's earring. Clopin hadn't taken it out since Genevieve
left, four whole weeks ago. Has it
been that long? he thought. Clopin
shook his head and went back down stairs.
"Now
where are you off to so early?" Rose asked when she saw him. "Aren't you hungry?"
"No,
not really," Clopin replied. "Besides,
I told Monsieur Chat I'd tell him when Genevieve wrote to me, remember?"
Rose
nodded her head in response.
Clopin
walked over to Jack, snatched the letter out of his hands as he was halfway
through it ("Hey!"), and walked out the door. He saw his father coming up toward the house. "Morning Pop."
Pierre
yawned in reply. He had apparently just
gotten off night watch.
Clopin
walked through the dark tunnel, climbed the stairs, and exited the Court into
the morning sunlight. He totally passed
by the statue of the angel, but he quickly glanced at it. Somehow today, he didn't need to think, or
want to.
As
he walked down the street that Genevieve used to live on, Clopin caught a
glimpse of her father. "Monsieur Chat!"
he called. "Monsieur!"
Genevieve's
father turned and smiled. "Ah! Bonjour Clopin. Comment ça va aujourd'hui?"
"Très
bien!" Clopin replied displaying the letter.
Monsieur
Chat's eyes widened when he saw the seal of the University of Calais. "Genevieve?"
"Oui
Monsieur. Go ahead. Read it," Clopin urged him.
Genevieve's
father read the letter to himself. When
he finished, he looked up and smiled. "Sounds like she's doing well up there," he said. Clopin nodded. Marque handed the letter back to him and said, "If you ever need
to write to her, just tell me and I'll send the letter through."
"Yes
Sir."
Marque
Chat patted Clopin on the shoulder. "Have a good day Clopin…and thank you."
Clopin
watched him walk off. Somehow he had
the feeling that the letter didn't cheer Monsieur Chat up. He is lonely, Clopin thought. I can't blame him.
He
looked down at the letter again and a smile broke across his face. Well, there's only one thing to do. He sprinted back to the Court of
Miracles.
Not many Gypsies knew how to read
and write, but Clopin and Genevieve did, and they knew the art well. They had learned from an old Italian Gypsy,
who often spoke about Greek philosophers and their theories. Clopin and Genevieve affectionately called
this man Toga. But Toga was dead. Frollo had caught him three years earlier
and put a rope around his neck. Genevieve cried so hard when she heard the news of Toga's death. Clopin comforted her, but he cried too. That's the only time he ever remembered
crying…
That afternoon (after his chores
were done, of course), Clopin flopped down on his bed and pulled out a quill
and paper. He nibbled on the quill's
end for a moment, thought of what to write, then set to work.
Dear Genevieve,
Glad to
hear things are going well in Calais. Things are pretty normal down here in Paris. You know how it is. I
beat up Jack. Jack beats up me. The usual.
It's nice to know you think I can't be replaced by Jamal. I've had an experience like that down here myself. Little Esmeralda (don't act dumb. I know you know who she is) has been following me around acting like you, talking like you, she even started dressing like you! I finally had to tell her off. She wasn't too pleased, but no one can replace you Gen.
Your
father's lonely Gen. I showed him your letter this morning, and it seemed to
bring him down more than cheer him up. I
don't know. Is there anything I can
do? Send back advice.
I got
grounded for three weeks for staying out all night helping you. When mother heard I was with you, her first
thought was that we had an affair! Ha! I laugh! Pop wasn't too pleased either. But eventually the truth came out, now all
is well pretty much.
Pop told me
I'd make a great Gypsy King one day. I
don't know. I'm still having trouble
being Gypsy Prince. What do you think?
Dinner's
nearly ready, so I better go. Stay
safe. Long lives Jerome!
Clopin sealed the letter with wax and went down to dinner. He would send it in the morning.
End of Chapter 2
Note from the Hippy Gypsy: Chapter 3
shall be up tomorrow with luck! Wahoo!