Chapter 14
A/N: Chapter 14... It's chapter fourteen, right? Hm... Well, Here we are! Coolio, huh? I actually wrote it within a month... right? I think I did, I don't remember... Eh. Okay, about the story. Frollo's finally here, but Lilo doesn't get to talk to him, 'kay? Sorry 'bout that! ... Hm. I'm not gonna tell you much more, because I'd beat myself up and Spaztic'd hurt me for that, but okay. READ! ... then REVIEW!
Quasimodo leapt down from Little Sophia's floor, landing without a hitch onto the level below. He clapped his hands together, ridding his palms of any dust that might have remained, and then tossed a varnish-stained rag onto a wooden table to the side. A job well done, thought he as his mind lingered on the now shining beauties that were his bells, If I do say so myself.
He was in a relatively good mood at the moment. He supposed it was how easily Lilo had come to accept his "friends", whom, he admitted, were less than conventional. But, then again, Lilo's normality seemed near inexistent, but he ignored that bit easily. She not only recognized the gargoyles as his companions, but she had agreed to befriend them without any obvious objection. She had even called them "cool" (which he still only suspected to be good), and smiled at them sincerely at greeting. He beamed at the thought. He really loved the little girl.
He climbed down the narrow ladder to the bell tower's exit, humming a song of his own invention, leaping over the last few rungs from his pleasant mood. The cool breeze rustled his hair gently as it flew in through the gothic arch of the door, the brighter tones of the outside passage sending a smile onto his usually melancholy face. He imagined her, Lilo, standing with Victor, Hugo, and Laverne, laughing, talking, introducing…
He was soon thrust from these thoughts by the little girl he was then thinking of, who crashed into him and landed with a painful thump onto the floor.
"Lilo!" Quasimodo exclaimed, pulling her from the slats as she cringed from the slight bruising. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt are you?"
Lilo shook her head, an anxious and preoccupied look in her wide eyes. Quasimodo stared at her in wonder, holding her shoulder and feeling the shaking of her little body. There was something wrong… he felt it.
"What happened?" He demanded, worry in his voice. Lilo seemed as if she wanted to speak, jumping up and down and waving her hands about as if she were trying to find the precise words. But nothing came out of that broad mouth but a stuttered gurgle, incomprehensible and frightening. Quasimodo shook his head, telling her that he couldn't quite understand what she was trying to tell him. Lilo looked at him helplessly, and continued her animated movements, a concerned look on her face.
Suddenly, Hugo, and Laverne rounded the corner, jumping into the tower's shadows, their expressions as obviously troubled as Lilo's.
"Quasi!" Laverne yelled out, hopping over. "We've got a problem here!"
"What is it? Why is Lilo acting so strangely?" He gestured uneasily toward Lilo, whom had still not found her proper voice.
"She dropped Marie," Laverne answered. "Off the balustrade," she snapped her fingers, "just like that."
"Oh god, nobody got hurt did they?" He asked, alarmed by the sudden news. The two shook their heads.
"Nobody. Except for Marie, that's for sure!" Hugo said, his voice filled with awe. "Crack! All over the square!"
"Not all over!" Lilo exclaimed in her defense. Quasimodo turned at her, an obscure look on his face. Lilo cringed under his gaze, and looked down at the ground despondently. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to! But she took my doll, and she wouldn't give it back. And… and she ripped Scrump's arm!"
She lifted the remaining piece of green to Quasi's face, an indignant expression taking her. It was none other than Scrump's arm, its edges frayed, white stuffing falling from the open end. Quasimodo stared at it incredulously, scratching the back of his head.
"I-it's alright, Lilo," he answered. His tone was obviously unsure, and though he wasn't as angry as he was during the whole window escapade, he did seem a little upset about the whole thing. "We just have to – "
"QUASIMODO!"
Everyone turned to face the entrance, where the last gargoyle, Victor, rushed in, badly flustered.
"What is it?" Quasimodo asked, actually asking "what is it now?"
"Frollo's coming!" The gargoyle gasped out, pointing to the door. "He'll be here any second!"
"Frollo?" Lilo lifted her head inquisitively, scrunching her nose in confusion. "What's a –"
Quasimodo cut her short, grabbing her arm violently and rushing her up the ladder to the main level, mumbling anxiously to himself. Lilo followed him, barely able to keep up with his movements (sometimes even falling and being dragged across the floor). Whatever a Frollo was, thought Lilo, it sure was making Quasimodo scared.
"You've got to hide," he told her, ushering her toward the table of miniatures. He lifted up a ragged corner of the table cloth, gesturing underneath. "Go," he said, patting Lilo's back. "Hide, stay quiet, and don't come out until I say it's okay, alright?"
"I guess," she said, doing as she was told. She crawled beneath the lifted flap of cloth, and sat in the shadows as Quasimodo replaced the corner. Why was Quasimodo acting so weird? She asked herself, sitting against the stone feet that served as a table leg. And what the heck was a "Frollo"? She heard Quasimodo's heavy footsteps as they worked their way along the tower, mixed with a confused clatter of wood and iron. Lilo felt an anxious curiosity rising within her. What was going on?
She sat there, silent and a little frightened for a minute or two, questions and thoughts running rapidly through her head, raging like a river. What was Quasimodo so afraid of? Why did she have to hide? How long would she have to be beneath this table? Was that a spider web? She leaned forward to inspect the intricate web work that hung from the bottom of the table. She bumped her head against the wooden plank, screamed her OUCH, and was promptly shushed by Quasimodo. She frowned bitterly, massaging the thumping spot. What was he so worked up about?
There came, finally, a tone of muffled feet as they climbed up the stairs, and Quasimodo's restless rattling was halted. Lilo listened closely, uneasily, hugging her knees to her chest and straining to hear. The boards creaked, the wind whistled, a thick and ominous aura held the atmosphere.
"Good morning, Quasimodo," came a voice, silk smooth and cold, like the frost in winter. Lilo felt herself shivering involuntarily. There was something frightening about that voice, the tone of which it spoke. She didn't know what it was, or why it made her feel so ill at ease, but it did, and it lingered, hanging in the air like a malignant phantom. She pulled herself into a tighter knot.
"G-g-good m-morning, master," Quasimodo said in reply, his words tumbling clumsily over one another. Lilo heard a shuffling of feet, then the soft noises of moving cloth, then nothing. Nothing at all stirred the air about, not a spoken word, nor passing breeze. Silence ruled the bell tower for several troubling moments, and then Quasimodo once again spoke up.
"H-how, was your day, M-m-master?" He inquired. Lilo noted the anxiety in his shaking voice. She leaned over curiously, pushing the edge of frayed fabric away by an inch. She wanted to see.
There, sitting at another table on a wooden stool opposite her friend was a man, tall and angular, wearing little other color than black. A long sweeping robe hid his body, a large hat resembling some sort of evil life boat sat atop his white head. A veil of blood red brushed his back. Lilo felt herself shrinking just a bit. He didn't look very nice, or handsome at that matter. His thin mouth was frowning; his eyes were narrow and glaring at Quasimodo. The poor boy was looking despondently at a wooden plate that he had set before himself, glancing occasionally up at the man, awaiting an answer to his simple question.
"Actually, Quasimodo," the man said, finally speaking, "my day was rather interesting."
"Really, sir?" the bell ringer asked, politely interested.
"Yes," the man continued. "A very interesting thing happened to me not more than a few minutes ago."
Lilo gulped. This man looked eerily familiar…
"It occurred just when I had arrived at the church," the man said, starting his story. "I was just stepping out of my carriage when a great sound echoed across the square. I was a tad startled by it boy, you can be sure, and when I turned toward the church, what do you think I saw, lying on the ground just before my horse?"
Quasimodo swallowed uneasily, glanced back down at his dish, and asked, "W-w-what was it… sir?"
"A gargoyle!" Quasimodo's master replied. Lilo listened quietly to his voice. It sounded like he was half-lying about this, even though she knew it was perfectly true. "A stone gargoyle, broken into dozens of pieces on the square! Now, I was surprised about this, wouldn't you believe?"
"I can see why, master," Quasimodo whispered nodding.
"Would you happen to know why a gargoyle happened to have fallen, Quasimodo?" he asked, his voice more menacing than his words. Quasimodo shook his head quietly.
"It... it must have been the wind, master," he answered after a moment. "I-I was upstairs, polishing Sofia right up until you came and…"
"Ah, the wind… I see," the man said, nodding as if in understanding, though his face had disappointment evident in its creases. "Another odd thing… The people, below, claimed to have seen a… gypsy girl, lingering up on the balustrade. Why, they even say that it was she who pushed down the statue! Now, what do you make of that, dear boy?"
"A… a gypsy girl?" Quasimodo sounded incredulous, lifting his head abruptly to the news. His green-eyed gaze rested on his gaunt-faced master, then suddenly shifted to the spot where Lilo was hiding, beneath the crude table to the side. Lilo scrutinized his gaze, feeling suddenly ill at ease. His eyes shone unexpectedly distrustful, confusion sparking within their depths. The Hawaiian found herself cringing. There was something wrong…
"Yes," the man replied slowly. He seemed to realize Quasimodo's gaze and followed it suspiciously to the table. Lilo pulled herself back from fright, edging as far away from the two people as best she could. She hugged herself anxiously, wondering what was to happen. Had he seen her? "Dear boy…" She heard the man speak after a short, yet palpable silence. "Whatever are you looking at?"
"Nothing," Quasimodo replied quickly, and his eyes rooted themselves back on the wooden disc before him.
Lilo released a sigh of relief as quietly as she possibly could, but remained at the back. If he ever chanced at seeing her she doubted he would be pleasant. Though the words he spoke were near harmless, the way he spoke them seemed positively… evil. She drew her conclusions not only from the old animated movies that she watched but the feeling that that tone sent through her. She wanted it to go away…
Quasimodo felt near the same as his little friend. He was on the chopping block, he realized, and one false move and… His mind was so full of bewildered considerations, uncertainty, and emotion. He sighed, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. No… No, Lilo couldn't be a… could she? He had never asked, she had never told him… and… she was so… kind… She couldn't be a gypsy!
"A gypsy girl?" he asked with new confidence, losing his usual stutter. "I don't know what you're talking about. No one comes up here except for me, and I would never-"
Quasimodo's master frowned bitterly, a withering look shooting from those wary eyes. He stood up from the wooden stool, his black robes billowing about him in a sudden gust of winter wind. He pulled into the collar of his uniform and tossed something on the table before Quasimodo. It landed with an ominous clatter on his plate of wood, seeming nothing more than a lump of green at first glance. But it meant so much more than that…
"I do not appreciate being lied to, Quasimodo," Frollo said, a sinister edge to his once smooth voice. Quasimodo's eyes rested on the object, wide and shaking, his mouth opened soundlessly. It was so much more than just a meaningless ball of green. It was Scrump, staring up almost pleadingly at him with her button eyes, the threadbare remains of her left arm depositing stuffing. "I do not believe that this is yours, is it, Quasimodo?"
"Well, master, I…" Quasimodo began, searching his mind for the appropriate words. "I-I… I made-"
"I don't believe that's possible," Frollo interrupted, his scowl growing deeper with his son's next supposed lie. "You haven't access to such fabric; few people do. You're hiding her, aren't you?"
Heat smoldered in those black eyes and poison shot from that horrible look. Quasimodo cowered in his seat.
"No, master!" he said, shaking his head. "I-I'm not… I'm not…"
"After all I've taught you, after all I've done for you, you're lying to me! I took you in, boy, I saved your life! And you show me such disrespect!" His voice lifted to new and more horrible heights, and Lilo, who had only been listening for the past minute, found herself feeling the intense weight of his anger.
"I'm sorry, master," Quasimodo whispered.
"You expect that to make everything better, don't you, Quasimodo?" Frollo asked, slamming a fist down on the table, the iron and wood clattering onto the floor. His hat flew off in his fury, his hair becoming unkempt in the blowing wind. "She will lie to you, she will cheat you! She's a gypsy, boy! If ever she has the chance, she'll take your feelings and twist it to her own satanic uses! You idiot! You disregarding, naïve idiot!"
Quasimodo found himself shielding his face from his master, tears beginning to fall. No… he thought. She would never do that to me. Lilo… Lilo is my friend, she would never…
Lilo, beneath the table still, was crying silently already, angry tears streaming down her cheeks. This man, whomever he was that Quasimodo called master, was such a butthead! Quasimodo was only trying to help me, she thought. He did help me! I would never hurt him on purpose! And he's not an idiot! Stupid, stupid man! She screamed in her head. She would've said something, would've shrieked every single one of these words and more at the man had she not wanted to stop Quasimodo from getting in any more trouble.
It's all your fault, came a cynical voice in her head. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be getting yelled at.
I know, she thought back, ignoring the tears as they saturated her collar, I already know that!
Frollo stared down at Quasimodo, and noticed how he was already weeping. A satisfied feeling crept into his blackened heart, and he placed the hand that he had lifted to strike on his son's head, offering him calming words. Yes, he thought venomously. Fear me, do as I say. I am giving you a second chance, you ungrateful monster. Do not spend it unwisely or you shall once again evoke my anger…
"I will give you until tomorrow morning, dear boy," he cooed, running his spidery fingers through Quasimodo's red hair. "Get rid of her in that time, dear, and don't ever mention her or think of her again after that, or God's wrath will be imposed upon you." And with those final, threatening words, Frollo picked up his hat from the floor, doffed it in a satisfied manner, and went his way out of the bell tower, leaving Quasimodo to weep.
Lilo peeked her head from beneath the table, wiping away the damp path that her tears had left as they fell.
"Can… can I come out now, Quasimodo?" she asked tentatively, noticing how sad Quasimodo seemed.
The hunchback turned his head quietly, and nodded, sighing sadly and brushing his own tears away.
Lilo crawled out of her hiding place, and immediately went to the crying Quasimodo, hugging him comfortingly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered quietly, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to get you in so much trouble…"
"It's alright, Lilo," Quasimodo answered quietly. He ran a hand through her black hair, shaking his head.
"I would never try to twist your feelings or whatever he said," she told him, looking up into his green eyes. "You took care of me. It would be wrong."
"I… I know, Lilo. But, tomorrow…" Quasimodo seemed to not want to mention the subject. "They might find you, and… I don't know what they'd do… They might hurt you…"
"I'm not a gypsy," she told him. "They wouldn't hurt me if I wasn't a gypsy!"
"You aren't a gypsy?" He asked unsurely, a glimmer of hope glittering in his eyes.
"Nope," she answered, smiling proudly. "I'm Hawaiian."
"Ha… Hawaiian?" Quasimodo repeated, confusedly. "What's that?"
"You don't know about Hawaii?" Lilo asked, surprised. "Wow, I thought everyone knew about Hawaii! It's an island, off the coast of America!"
"What's America?" Quasimodo asked, even more perplexed.
"You don't know about America?" Lilo asked disbelievingly. "WHERE AM I?!"
"Paris, France," Quasimodo answered, not realizing the sarcasm in Lilo's voice.
"France?" Lilo asked. That's an Earth country, right? Yeah, she thought. I saw it in Beauty and the Beast. So I am on Earth! About time I found out!
"Never mind all that, Lilo," Quasimodo said, taking her hand. "You've got to go… or they're going to hurt you."
Lilo sighed, staring sadly at the floor.
"I know," she said after a while. "But… But I'm not a gypsy! Why would they-"
"Everyone thinks you're a gypsy," he told her. "Which means… to everyone… you are one."
Lilo nodded, understanding what he meant by that. After all, that's how it was at home…
"But, what about our project?" Lilo asked, referring to the glass mobile that she had wanted so badly to make. "You promised we'd do it together, remember? It's unfair!"
"Lilo-"
"You promised," she said vehemently. "If you break a promise, it makes you a liar. Plus, it's bad luck. The monster's will come and get you and you'll never be able to eat cookies again because all of your teeth will fall out. At least, that's what Nani told me (not that it ever stopped me)…"
"But, Lilo…" Quasimodo began, an aggravated look on his face. Did she not understand how in danger she would be if she remained? If she got hurt, he didn't know what he would do. He looked down at her face, staring into those steadfast eyes and jutted chin. It was the face of determination, he thought, half-chuckling despite himself. She would stop at nothing until he agreed. "Oh, alright," he said finally.
Lilo smiled. That face almost always worked.
"But… only tonight, okay?" He said, picking her up and placing her on his knee. He put his chin quietly on her shoulder, leaning his head against her cheek. "You'll have to go tomorrow. I don't want you getting hurt."
"Okay," she said, though there was obvious disappointment in her voice. She really didn't want to leave. Not only because she didn't have a place to go, but Quasimodo would be lonely all by himself in the bell tower. If she left he would get all depressed again and she'd feel bad. And it was all because that stupid old man had told him to. If only he never knew that she was here. If only he didn't know… "Wait a minute!" She said suddenly. "What if I come back after that old meanie leaves the church?"
"Old meanie?" Quasimodo asked, lifting a brow.
"You know," she said, "that old guy that was yelling at you."
"Oh, my master," Quasimodo said, his voice becoming a fearful whisper. "Frollo."
Oh, thought Lilo. That's what a Frollo was. No wonder Quasimodo was so scared before he came.
"Yeah," she said. "Him. What if I come back after he leaves? I'll wait outside when he goes in then when he comes back out I'll go back to the bell tower! So, he'll think I'm gone, but I'm really not!" Lilo's tone was rather excited. In her mind, the plot was ingenious, though simple it was, and would be hard to foil if done right! And, she thought, I know just how to do it right!
"So," Lilo continued, looking back at Quasimodo with expectance, "what do you think? It would work, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose…" Quasimodo said indecisively, his brow furrowed in deliberation.
You should consider yourself lucky, a voice in his head told him as negative consequences ran through his mind. Someone out there loves you enough to stay with you; loves you enough to want to come back so badly even though they have to leave. Think about it. You finally have a friend. Do you really want to lose her?
No, Quasimodo answered, I don't want her to go away… but, what if she gets hurt?
She has a plan, it replied. You know it might work. Why not give it a chance?
"Alright," Quasimodo replied. "You come back after he leaves… But, stay away, at the other end of the square or to the side. Just make sure he doesn't see you."
"But he's never seen me before," said Lilo, completely forgetting that black clad man that had stared up at her earlier, "he doesn't know what I look like! So why should I hide?"
"My master... he hates gypsies. They're evil people; they are tricksters and liars, they worship the devil and do witchcraft. They kidnap children and eat them. Master has vowed to get rid of all of them, for the good of Paris. That's why he wanted to find you, that's why he didn't want me to help you."
"Okay," Lilo said, nodding, "hide at the far side of the square; make sure he doesn't see me. I get it. Okay."
"Alright…" Quasimodo said, pushing his hair back. "Alright… our project, then?"
"Yes!"
Dog walks are, despite popular and human-dominant beliefs, mainly dogs walking people. The humans do not make the dogs go outside and look for places to execute their business; it is the dogs that decide usually. And the dogs are those usually dragging the people all over the town with such obvious friskiness while those "walking" them follow at a forced pace, there to hold them back when the need arises. So, though the name bestowed upon them is perfectly fine, the definition is usually quite wrong. Taking into exception a few owners who have somehow trained their dogs to follow other than lead, which I have seen before, though usually it is a small dog that is always shaking in fear of something. Yes, those can be taken into exception.
Oh yes, and this situation as well.
Stitch followed behind the old gypsy, slow and piqued, examining for lack of a better thing to do all the activity that surrounded him. He didn't much like being forced outside to take a walk in the state his hair was in, considering how he was now guised as a rabbit and no longer a dog. Apparently, considering Matthias' mumblings, Mr. Clopin King found it appropriate that a dog, even though it was obviously a rabbit, needed fresh air.
"Just think of the look on his face," Matthias mumbled as he dragged Stitch along, "if he saw how much my rabbit didn't want to take this damned walk."
Stitch, who was only half-listening to the greybeard as he continued on his upset tangent, growled in agreement to the statement and sniffed the air appraisingly. There was an old dirtiness to the air, he noted, snubbing his large nose in irritation. It was pungent with chimney smoke and, Stitch snorted in disgust, body odor. Not that he was unused to that sharp stink; he had quite the history with it having lived in Hawaii amongst uncleanly tourists for so long. And the court of miracles wasn't exactly the best smelling place in all of Paris. He had just managed to forget it for so long. But now, as he had little better to do, it was so obvious… and more than just a little nauseating, you can be sure.
They were continuing down the avenue, Matthias still rambling on about getting up from his nap, when a loud crack bounded from the square just ahead. Stitch's ears pricked up suddenly, his head held high, his muscles tense with anxiety. Shouts and screams could be heard from the plaza, frightened gasps, questions being asked. What had happened?
Suddenly, Stitch felt the rough rope of his crude leash pulled tight across his neck, and was soon dragged after Matthias, whom had found as much interest as he had.
"A GYPSY!" A little girl screamed, pointing up at the balustrade. "A GYPSY! I SEE IT! A GYPSY UP THERE!"
Stitch furrowed a brow, but looked upward anyway, to where the girl had pointed. But, by the time his head had turned, all that he was able to catch was a wisp of black hair as the person withdrew. He didn't know why, but there was a saddened twang on his heartstrings at the sight, and he felt himself looking on the ground in wonder. What was it? He felt something. But what was it?
"Ah, it's nothing but a gargoyle," Matthias said at length, and, with a tug at the leash, he led Stitch away.
A/N: And… finish. Okee dokee, there was s'posed to be more, but I thought, heck, seven pages was enough, and I really wanted to get this on the internet already. So, that was the chapter, read and review, s'il vous plait. See, I told you Frollo didn't have a talk with Lilo yet. You'll have to wait for a few more chapters until that happens. So, I hope you'll keep reading. Thank you.
FUN FACT #2
In the original concept of Hawaiian and the Hunchback, Lilo and Stitch had started in outer space and was almost sucked into a wormhole, and stuff happened. I don't' remember much, because the scientific exegesis was just too much for me to make out, but they were supposed to have survived the ordeal because of another of Jumba's inventions. Not exactly and anti-anti-matter gun, but something of the like. They were supposed to be found drifting along space by friendly aliens, and deposited on what Lilo and Stitch described as Earth. Sadly, though it was 500 years in the past. I had written this lovely part when Stitch was watching Lilo in the recovery chamber and hoping she wouldn't die. A lot of thinking in that version.