Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, it's been updated. Gasp out loud and wonder what in the name of all that is holy is going on! Yes... Actually, I'm quite grounded from the internet. I had a very disappointing score on my report card this semester and my mother and father insist I do better. So, badabing, no internet. Until the next report card comes. At the end of the year. And my grade better be up. But, there's a problem. The teacher that taught the class that I'm not doing very well in... well, he quit. And I've had nothing but substitutes. Who don't assign graded work. SO... No falling grade, but sure as heck, no rising one either. Is this the end of the Hawaiian and the Hunchback! Of course not silly. Read on. It's short, though. And please review. Remember: CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, S'IL VOUS PLAIT.
Chapter 19
A few hours before Lilo's awakening, as the rain had begun falling heavily on the worn streets of ancient Paris, a solitary figure sat in the shadows of the bell tower of Notre Dame, plaintively silent. His face was turned to the large open windows to the outside, where sheets of wet rain could be seen as they made their pitter-pattering descent, casting blue and gray light upon the wooden boards, the rain-tainted light glimmering dully off glass shards that lay strewn across the floor. The figure had been crying for a long while beforehand because of this. But for now, he was waiting, waiting as he had been for hours already, his hope waning, but expectant nonetheless.
"Ya think the kid would've learned that dancing in the rain ain't good for ya," Hugo muttered, watching Quasimodo from another point in the bell tower.
"If that's what she's doing, it ain't good for Quasi either," Laverne acceded, her apish arms crossed before her, a concerned look on her worn, stone façade.
"Perhaps she's been incapacitated!" Victor whispered, anxiously gnawing on the chipped rock that formed his fingers. "You don't suppose something horrible has happened to the young girl? She is very small…"
"Don't be ridiculous," Laverne said, waving off the idea. "She's got spunk. We shouldn't worry about her."
Laverne said this with a somewhat forced resolve, as if she were saying this in an attempt to push away any thought that disagreed with her words. Somewhere, not so deep inside her head, she knew that the chances of Lilo having met some horrible end were a good possibility. She was a little girl, after all, despite any spunk she might own, and she didn't have too many street smarts to be truthful. Actually, she seemed to know as little about the outside world as Quasimodo himself, which was very worrisome, considering who Quasimodo was.
Laverne returned her attention to the bell ringer, who continued his vigil, leaning against an old vertical beam, his face blank. His fingers were curled loosely about Scrump's body, running gently over the strange fabric.
The old gargoyle shook her head.
Lilo better be out there dancing in the rain… otherwise, she'd never forgive her for doing what she was doing to her boy.
Lilo sat on the bed that she had woken up in, Stitch murmuring incoherently in his sleep. Her little fingers ran through his fur, the strange trinkets tinkling gently against one another, and she sighed. It was almost midnight, and they had a short time before they would go home… a few hours, Stitch had told her before he had gone to sleep… about eight. Eight more hours, less than a day, yet so far away… She shook her head, waiting for sleepiness to crawl into her thoughts. But no… not anywhere near it…
She couldn't quite help feeling like this… there was an understandable anxiety! She had been away from her family for such a long time… and now… finally, finally she'd be able to see them again!
Lilo looked down at Stitch with a smile. The first thing that she was going to do when she got home was give Nani a big fat hug and buy Stitch a lot of shave ice.
"Tired already, my dear?"
Clopin walked into the tent, that same curious smile on his long face. Lilo returned the smile.
"He had a big day," she told him. She turned back to Stitch and continued to stroke him gently, listening to those same mutterings, enjoying that same adorable face, half-smiling in its sleep.
"Most of it was spent looking after you," Clopin said with an amused look, seating himself beside Lilo and leaning over the creature as the little Hawaiian did. He extended a hand to touch the dog's head, but stopped as Stitch let out a growl of warning. The king lifted an eyebrow, his hand still hovering above the blue fur, then withdrew, laughing ridiculously.
"Oh dear, what an intuitive creature," he said, shaking his head, his voice light still with an undertone of laughter.
"Yeah," Lilo said with a nod, not completely understanding why Stitch, despite his unconsciousness, had decided to react in such a way. She tilted her head in that familiar sideways glance, and then lowered her face to plant a kiss upon her pet's brow. "He's special," she said, pulling back.
"Yes," the gypsy man acceded. "Very special. Oh, by the way," he said, straightening out in a serious manner, "I have something I would like to discuss with you."
"Discuss?" Lilo asked, looking up at Clopin in a curious manner.
Clopin nodded gravely.
"Yes," he said. "Discuss."
"Okay, I guess," Lilo replied with a shrug. "What do you want to discuss?"
"Something I found lying in one of your hands," Clopin explained, reaching over to a pouch at his side, "when you were quite unconscious. Ah, yes, here we go."
Clopin removed something from the money bag, resealed it, then returned back to the little girl. His black-gloved hands were clutched about something that Lilo could not see despite her best efforts, and she felt another surge of childish interest.
"What is it?" she asked him.
"Something," Clopin answered, "that has been, I think, an heirloom to a certain gypsy family for an uncountable number of years."
"I had something that important?" Lilo asked, very surprised at the news.
Clopin let out a laugh.
"Apparently," he replied, smiling. His long fingers opened themselves slowly, and, soon enough, a large coin, new polished and barely recognizable to Lilo, could be seen, resting upon the square of his palm.
The little Hawaiian peered at it. It was familiar, she thought. Very familiar. But she didn't quite remember seeing anything quite that beautiful or brilliant too recently, excepting the trinkets that hung from the hair and clothing of the gypsies that remained without the tent. So where did it…? Lilo stared into the eyes of that half-frowning sun, with its lifted brow, and suddenly a thought struck her.
"The talisman," she said suddenly, taking the medallion from Clopin. "It's the one I found in Quasimodo's…"
With a scream of realization, Lilo sprung upwards, Stitch toppling unceremoniously off her lap and letting out a startled growl. Clopin fell backwards somewhat, catching himself with his now free hands, and watching for a bewildered second as Lilo hastened to the flaps of the tent exit.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she kept muttering, slipping her sandals back on clumsily, and letting out an irritated groan when she realized she put them on the wrong feet.
"Where are you going, my dear?" he asked, regaining his bearings. He stood himself upright as Stitch mumbled ungraciously at the side, rubbing his head, which had collided harshly against the stone floor.
"Quasimodo," Lilo answered back, not really revealing anything quite helpful. She replaced her shoes, this time correctly, let out a relieved sigh after checking the twice, then made her way to the door.
"Quasimodo?" Clopin repeated in question. He approached her, grabbing her wrist before she could get herself completely out of the tent. "Where are you going?"
"Let go!" she exclaimed, turning back and attempting to pry his fingers from her arm. "Quasimodo!" she said again, a look of sad desperation coming across her face. "I have to see Quasimodo! I promised him I'd come back! If I don't he'll be sad again, and it'll be all my fault, and he'd never forgive me—"
"Young lady!" Clopin said, giving her a look. "What, by the powers, do you mean?"
"I left!" Lilo blurted. "I left him, and he said I wouldn't come back, and I didn't, even though I said I would! He'll never trust me again! I need to go back, or he'll be sad!"
"Quasimodo?" the gypsy king inquired.
Lilo nodded, then turned and tried to pull out.
"Please," she said, trying not to cry. "I don't want him to be mad at me again."
Clopin stood there, quite befuddled by the young girl's behavior. What was she going on about? Quasimodo, that bell ringer, would be angry at her? But, why would he be? He turned back at Stitch, who was now quite awake, but only got a mirror expression of his own perplexity. Apparently, the dog didn't quite know either why she was acting so strange.
Finally, Lilo, exhausted by her endeavors and feeling a return of that head pain that had for two hours disappeared, fell onto her knees, Clopin still clutching to her wrist. Her hair fell about her face like a shade, hiding her mouth as it frowned, her eyebrows as they lowered, her tears as they fell.
Clopin, now completely confused, let go of the girl's wrist, and her hand fell to her side, unmoving. She didn't even attempt to get away.
The man let out a sigh and fell to his knees, wrapping a reassuring arm around Lilo's small shoulders, whispering comfort to her.
"Come now, child," he said, drawing her back into the tent. "You need your rest. You can't go gallivanting off into the night, especially in your condition." He picked her up and rested her down beside Stitch.
"But," Lilo began, wiping away the tears.
Clopin put a finger to her mouth and let out a small shushing sound, shaking his head.
"You can go tomorrow," he told her, giving her a smile. "Anyway, it's raining. Who wants to be cold and wet?"
Lilo sighed.
"I guess you're right," she said. She turned to Stitch. "We can go visit Quasimodo before we go home, right?"
Stitch gave her a look. That would mean having to wake up earlier, he thought in annoyance. And, what with him being quite awake at the moment, that didn't seem too dandy of an idea for him. But, he agreed, nodding. After all, with all this fuss she was making, it had to be very important.
"Thanks," she said, and she gave him a grateful peck on the forehead.
Stitch rubbed the spot in embarrassment. Your welcome, he thought.
Clopin cleared his throat.
"So, my dear, might we get onto what I was talking about?" he asked.
"Sure," she said with a nod.
"Wonderful. Now, about that talisman you're holding so tightly in your hand," he said, gesturing toward it. "How did you come across it?"
"What do you mean?" Lilo inquired.
"How did it come into your possession," he rephrased, "how did it become yours? Was it an heirloom? Did you find it? Did you steal it?"
Lilo felt a smidgeon of guilt rising in her stomach.
"Sort of…" she replied, scratching the back of her head.
"You stole it?" Clopin asked. He clicked his tongue. "This is rather valuable, both in money and sentimentality! It was rather rude of you to go off and steal it."
"Well, it was all moldy with spider webs on it!" Lilo exclaimed in her defense. "Sorry, if I didn't think Quasimodo needed it anymore!"
Clopin started.
"Quasimodo?" he asked. "This belonged to Quasimodo?"
Lilo nodded.
"Well, I think it did," she said, correcting her earlier response. "It was in his bell tower…"
Clopin seemed very interested.
"A gypsy talisman hidden away in Quasimodo's bell tower," he mused aloud, stroking his chin, "tarnished and mildewed by time unrelenting, abandoned deep within the shadows and dust that shrouds the mystery of Notre Dame."
"Wow, that's pretty," Lilo said, listening to him. "Do you write stories?"
Clopin glanced down at her with a grin.
"Not write exactly," he told her. "But I am a storyteller, yes,"
"Really?" she asked.
He nodded, a proud smile upon his face.
"A pretty good one, I would like to say," he said.
"That's great," Lilo said. "Why is it so weird for Quasi to have a doodad in his tower?"
"Quasi?" Clopin asked.
"Nickname."
"Ah… well, it's not that it's strange…" he said, his deep thoughts evident on his face, once tight and young, now wise and aged, revealing the years that he so easily hid. "It's just that, this bit, this information, is just the inspiration that this old gypsy has been looking for."
"Inspiration?"
"Yes…inspiration," he replied, nodding.
Lilo gave him a strange look.
Clopin stroked his chin in thought. How was he going to explain this?
"My dear," he began at length, "have you ever had…writer's block, I think is the term for it."
"Sometimes," Lilo answered, "when me and Stitch are coming up with stuff… why?"
"Well," Clopin thought, "I had some writer's block. A very, very bad bout of it. I knew what I was aiming at, I knew what I wanted in this story, I had it all in my head… but," he paused, looking off into the distance, "I couldn't produce it. For some reason, I didn't feel stirred to create a good story, though I felt I wanted to… And this…" he took the talisman from her and lifted it up, examining its face with a smile, "this will hopefully remedy every uncertainty that I felt…"
Lilo looked at the talisman with a new interest.
"What's the story about?"
"It's about a monster," he began.
The Hawaiian frowned at him indignantly.
"He is not a monster!" she screamed at him.
Clopin gave her a calm look.
"Why, whatever are you talking about?" he asked her knowingly, a slight smile coming onto his face. "Of course he is… a horrible monster, whose life is and was nothing but a painful mixture of lies and misguidance, of unholy purging done in the name of holiness, of deceit all for the forgiveness of sins too horrible for the human tongue to relay."
Lilo shook her head.
"No!" she cried. "He's nothing like that!"
"Oh, isn't he?" Clopin asked, raising an eyebrow. "By all means, others in this court would say I described that monster to a T."
"That's a lie," Lilo muttered angrily.
"Oh, don't be too sure of yourself," the king continued, laughing. "Yes… a monster, a horrible monster… hidden behind the black robes of a judge."
Lilo blinked in confusion.
"Judge?" she asked, not understanding.
"Yes, Judge… that horrible Frollo, demon judge," he said with a sort of vehemence. He lifted a fist in the air and shook it in anger. "May the devil take your black soul, if hell be evil enough to hold it!"
"You're talking about Frollo?" Lilo asked, tilting her head.
"Why of course!" Clopin said, beaming at her. "Who else would I be talking about?"
Lilo shook her head, embarrassed, letting a relieved sigh from her mouth.
"Yeah… I don't like him either," she said, changing the subject. "He's a big meanie!"
"Oh, yes, big meanie is right, my dear!" Clopin said, nodding passionately. "A big, wrinkled, ugly old meanie!"
"Yeah!" Lilo exclaimed, jumping happily in the air.
"By the bells of Notre Dame, he is a monster, not a man!" Clopin added.
Lilo stopped for a moment and grinned.
"I like that," she told him. "Bells of Notre Dame!"
"Yes, it does have a bit of a ring to it," Clopin admitted, stroking his beard.
"Anyway… tell me the story!" Lilo demanded, jumping onto Clopin's lap.
"What, now?"
"Yeah! I wanna hear it!"
"Alright, my dear… but forgive me, it's a bit rough."
And there, he began, taking the talisman into one hand. From his lips spouted a story, one of mystery and sorrow, birth and death, gypsies and judges… Of gentle old Deacons and those powerful eyes of Notre Dame that Lilo knew well already. Of monsters, hiding deep in the skin of men, men who seem pious yet follow horrible lies… Lilo listened, and listened well, as the gypsy king continued, a look of excitement and happiness gleaming on that handsome face. And, as if in the blink of an eye, the story was finished, and Lilo lay in Clopin's arms, asleep.
Clopin smiled, running his fingers through her long hair, smoothing out the bandages.
Lie on down to rest, my dear,
Lie on down to rest.
As the wind whispers clear upon your ear
And the moon lies on your breast.
For night has finally come, my love,
The night has finally come,
And the stars above are singing of
The land that we come from.
And dreams are creeping close, my sweet
The dreams are creeping close,
To steal away, 'til break of day,
My dear, my love, my rose.
And with that, he lay her down next to Stitch, who had long ago fallen into slumber, and, like a father to his child, he tucked her tightly in. He pulled away, and, with a final glance over his shoulder at the girl and her pet, he made his way out of the tent.
Author's Note: Okee dokee, that's the end of it. Next chapter, Lilo and Stitch, away! Yay! I made Clopin really weird in this one. I don't know... half the time the TV was on so it was hard to concentrate. Anyway, here's were I answer some questions.
Yaarp16? You asked whether Lilo would stay with Quasimodo or leave with Stitch. And you also called it a stupid question. Questions have feelings too you know, and calling it stupid was uncalled for! As for the answer... you have to read the story to find out.
Fun fact # Wutevah: Clopin's lullaby, as seen just above, was totally made up off the top of my head. It wasn't even in the original idea, I was just typing this down and decided, well, you know, I think I like it when Clopin sings, darn it, I'll write him a song! And here you go. Not too corny, is it? My mom laughed at it. sniffle Ah well... c'est la vie, non? J'aime beaucoup ma mere, et je pense qu'elle aime moi, aussi. Si... shrug N'importe quoi.
sings
Quand les cloches sonnent, les cloches questionnent,
Dans le ciel de Notre Dame...
L'homme est-il un monstre, ou le monstre un homme?
Et les cloches sonnent, sonnent, sonnent, sonnent, sonnent, sonnent, sonnent,
Les cloches de Notre Dame!