Chapter Five
Marcher Dignement un Gitan
(Stalking a Gypsy)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/items/other stuff from Hunchback of Notre Dame. They belong to Disney and Victor Hugo (I strongly recommend reading the original – Hugo is simply brilliant). I only use them for my own pleasure in writing, but I don't make a dime out of it, so please don't sue. All original characters are my own creation.
Author's Note: This chapter was only half-written when I opened the file, so I had to improvise on where I originally intended this chapter to go. I don't particularly like this chapter, but then again, I don't like much of my own writing.
Clopin Trouillefou stepped out of the bridge's sewer tunnel and into the bright Parisian sunlight, blinking his eyes while tugging down his royal purple hat. It was just after sunrise and Clopin was planning on getting an early start with his puppetry. However, his eyes would need a few minutes to adjust to the light before he would be able to get anywhere without stumbling into a wall.
Clopin, although an outcast of the Parisian society due to his Romani heritage, was well known throughout the streets of Paris as being the best puppeteer there was. Children of all ages came from every corner of the large city to enjoy his puppet shows. However, they were joined by many women who found the gypsy man to be extremely attractive and it is not hard to see why. Clopin prided himself on staying in excellent condition in order to perform his acrobatic stunts and while his lithe body hid the strong muscles, Clopin was not a man to be messed with. Knowing full well of all the attention he brought to himself, Clopin chose his performing garb quite carefully – form-fitting yellow and purple tights, snug purple and blue tunic, and yellow cowl with gold bells – that was not only colorful enough for the children, but flattering enough for his many admirers. His slim, well-structured face with striking coal eyes complete with silky jet black hair and a matching goatee was enough to make any lady swoon. Despite the many persecutions against himself and his people, Clopin seemed to be extremely carefree and quite the troublemaker. Even so, he was extremely loyal to his people and showed a large amount of respect for his parents.
Having spared a few moments for his eyes to adjust, Clopin began his short walk to his puppet cart in one of the busiest squares in Paris. It was still too early for any of the children who watched him perform to be out, so he was looking forward to repainting the face on one of his puppets. Upon arriving at his cart, Clopin was surprised to see two of the children already waiting for him.
"Le bon matin cher," Clopin said to the two children, sweeping the younger one, a girl, into his arms and tickling her sides. "What are you doing at my cart so early?"
Colette, the young girl Clopin had picked up, around the age of five, had blonde curls that fell to her chin, brilliant blue eyes, and freckles dancing across her pale face. Her brother, Julien, was not much older than her, at around eight years old, had stick straight blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, dark brown eyes, and pale skin. Both of the children were frequent customers of Clopin and he was used to seeing them in the crowd.
Julien answered, stepping closer to Clopin, one hand tugging on his tunic, the other in a fist near his mouth. "Mother left us here. She said she had somewhere to go."
Clopin sighed, shaking his head. Clopin knew Colette and Julien's mother, Alice Beaufort, especially as she had once been a frequent lover of his. Their mother, although married, did not stick to her marriage bed and was constantly cavorting with younger men. Today was apparently another day when Alice left her children to the streets of Paris to have some fun in another man's bed. Usually when this happened, the children spent the day watching each of Clopin's shows and sharing their noontime meal with him. As much as he would rather be at a bar, flirting with the barmaids, his love of children kept him at his cart to watch the two children. His stream of thought, however, was interrupted by an insistent tugging at his tunic.
"Monsieur Clopin, does Mother not love us?"
Clopin looked down at Julien, not knowing how to respond. "Of course she does, mon petit enfant. Your mother just wanted you to have a free day. A day to explore Paris without her. She wants you to grow strong when she is not near you."
"I am strong, but I don't want to spend the day alone." Julien looked terrified and Colette had buried her head in the crook of Clopin's neck.
Clopin bent down, patting Julien on the head. "You won't. You and Colette can spend the day with me, only if you want, of course."
"Monsieur Clopin." Colette tugged at the feather in Clopin's hat to get his attention. "We'd love to stay with you."
"Oui," Julien replied. "We will have so much fun."
Clopin smiled and put Colette back down on the ground. Squatting to come face-to-face with Julien, Clopin rested his hands on his knees.
"Now, stay out here and behave. I am going to go set up for the first show. If anyone tries to harm you, call out my name and I will save you. Comprenez?"
"Oui!" both children responded with excitement before situating themselves in front of the cart, trying to find a comfortable spot on the cobblestone street, eagerly waiting for the show to begin.
Clopin entered his cart and began to prepare for his first performance. But before he did this, he checked to make sure he had enough food and water in his cart for not only himself, but his two charges. Upon making sure of this, he set up the scenery and freshened up his puppets. Peeking his head outside, Clopin noted that more children had arrived for the performance, eagerly waiting for him to begin. Deciding that the children had waited long enough and noticing that there was quite a crowd outside his cart, Clopin put the finishing touches on his puppets and scenery. Peeking through a crack to ensure that Colette and Julien were still there and safe, Clopin began his show.
"Le bon matin cher!" called Clopin to the collection of children eagerly sitting beneath his cart. The group quickly began to cheer, clap, and beam up at the Romani man before them, so happily clad in bright, playful colors. From the sides of the crowd, the mothers politely applauded, a few of them blushing when Clopin waved.
"Is everyone ready for this morning's performance?"
All the children, again, applauded. Before long, they were soon calling out their favorites, hoping that the storyteller would choose their own.
"Please, monsieur, tell us of the hunchback again?"
"No, monsieur, tell us about the princess trapped in a tower."
"No, tell us the one with the dragon and soldier."
Clopin laughed joyfully at the enthusiasm in all of their eyes. Holding his hands up in silence, a hush quickly fell over the crowd.
"How about I tell you a new story? A story about a young boy and a mysterious lamp? Hum… does that sound exciting?"
"Oui!" cried at all of the children, quickly settling into as comfortable a position as they could and turned their youthful faces to the dark man before them, rapt attention echoed in their eyes.
And so, Clopin began his tale of faraway deserts, a rebellious princess and an orphan boy who falls in love and comes across a magical genie. The mass of youths were excellent audience members, always laughing at the right time and following his every word. By the end of the half an hour, the children were begging for more, even as their mothers placed a coin in Clopin's jar and began to drag them away to fulfill their morning chores.
One woman, however, lingered at Clopin's stage, watching him as he began to clean up his cart, placing each marionette and puppet carefully in its proper place, not noticing the small children now sitting at the steps to the entrance of his cart. Leaning over ever so slightly, Gemile Baptista purred the storyteller's name.
"Oh Clopin," the gypsy looked up over the edge of the stage, which he had been kneeling behind, catching full sight of the French woman's voluminous breasts. Trying to behave as if he had not noticed this, Clopin stood to his full height, glancing at Collete and Julien from the corner of his eye. They seemed to not have noticed the presence of the young woman and were happily playing between each other. "Surely you can make time for one of your adoring admirers."
"Ah, Mademoiselle Baptista," Clopin leaned over and quickly pecked Gemile's cheek. "It is always an honor to be in the presence of such beauty."
Clopin had exquisite taste in women and would bed none but the most gorgeous and Gemile Baptista was no exception. One of his younger conquests, Gemile had a somewhat long face, doe-like baby blue eyes, and long wavy amber hair that only helped to accentuate her full breasts, tiny waist, and always blushed lips. True, she had just barely reached of age and still lived with her family, but this mattered not to Clopin whose womanizing ways were almost as well known as storytelling and acrobatic abilities.
"Indeed," she replied, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks, a hand coming to rest on Clopin's own. "I was wondering if you would care to walk me home this afternoon? Father is out with Mother and I would hate to have to arrive home so alone. Could you imagine what might happen to me without a proper escort?"
Gemile's eyebrow arched in a most beautiful, and suggestive, manner, leaving Clopin wishing that he did not have to care for the children on his steps. However, he would not leave them on the streets alone; his love of children rising about his love of women.
"Unfortunately, ma dame juste, I have to watch over the two small children over there."
Clopin pointed to Collete and Julien, who had finally seen Gemile talking to the storyteller. They waved pleasantly, not noticing the slight tension between the couple. Waving back, Gemile flipped open her fan and blocked Clopin and herself from the children's sight.
"You could not slip away for even an hour's time?"
"I'm afraid not."
Clopin shook his head sadly, greatly upset that he would be missing out on such a great opportunity. His promise to the children reared its head in the back of his mind and he knew he would not leave them to themselves, not like their own mother had.
Gemile pouted, only making her even more attractive. "Until later then, mon amant."
Turning around slowly, Gemile blew a kiss over her shoulder at Clopin before gracefully walking away, her hips swinging side-to-side suggestively. Swallowing hard, Clopin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, reminding himself that he could not leave the children alone. Sighing, he picked up the basket of food he had for himself and the two angels sitting outside his cart, his thoughts still on the pretty young lady who had just paid him a visit.
Clopin's mood dramatically improved after his talk with Mademoiselle Baptista as the rest of the day past without incident, every show an instant hit. Madame Beautfort stopped by at the last show to pick up her children, evidence of her all day romp evident in her glistening eyes and flushed face. The jealousy he felt flare up inside of him, wishing he had been that younger man in her bed, was instantly replaced with anger at the two laughing children who threw their bodies against her legs, rambling on about their exciting day spent with the puppeteer. Cleaning his cart and changing into a less exuberant outfit, Clopin exited his cart and locked it behind him. Waving at Corin, a fellow gypsy, who had come to move Clopin's cart to its place in the nearby alleyway, Clopin whistled on his way to his favorite local pub – La Bourreau.
Upon entering the bar, several of the normal patrons raised a hand or voice in welcome, Clopin cheerfully returning the gestures. Taking a seat at his usual chair by the fireplace, Ancelin brought him a mug of his favorite without Clopin even asking. This, he thought, is what made life living. Ancelin merely shook her head as two women, prostitutes by their low-cut bodices and highly rouged faces, sidled up the gypsy man, his arms instantly going around their waists, pulling them in closer. Corin slipped in quietly behind Clopin, noting where the other gypsy was before settling at the bar, Ancelin coming up to him.
"I see Monsieur Trouillefou has started his celebrations earlier than usual this evening." As the words left Ancelin's lips, the cheerful laughter of Clopin filled the air followed by the coy giggling from his two female companions. Each of them leaned in, placing a kiss on either of his cheeks as Clopin began to whisper into the blonde's ear, the brunette instantly jealous and placing her hand on his thigh.
Corin shook his head, used to such behavior from Clopin. "Indeed, it appears that way."
"Such a waste. A handsome young man spending his nights cavorting with... with women like them. He should find himself a wife."
"You are not the only one who thinks so, mademoiselle." Looking over, Corin noted the pout Ancelin was wearing as well as the one hand on her hip as she watched Clopin entertaining his prostitutes. Ancelin simply shook her head and began to clear up the bar.
"Corin! My dear friend! You must join me!"
Chuckling softly, Corin got up to join Clopin, leaving Ancelin with an empty mug and apologetic smile. As much as he loved spending time with his close friend, Corin was a much quieter man. He was shorter than Clopin by several inches and was broader in every sense of the word; however, while Clopin was smiles and magic, Corin was simple and gentle, preferring a quiet spot with his easel. Sitting down next to the pretty brunette, Corin joined Clopin.
As the night carried on, neither men nor the barmaid noticed the small woman hidden in the back corners, a cloak wrapped around her lithe form and a hood masking her face. The only visible feature was a long pipe extending from the depths of the hood, a wisp of smoke twisting its way into the air and up to the ceiling. Her eyes never left the gypsy man until he had stumbled his way out the door and onto the streets, his arm around the blonde prostitute who was more than happy to accompany him to a nearby hotel. Throwing a few coins on the table to pay for her single drink of water, the stranger left the bar, stopping outside as Clopin and the prostitute turned down a back alley.
"This is going to be too easy," whispered Jeta to the night air, a barely noticeable smile on her lips.
Author's Note: This took me a lot longer for me to complete than I thought it would. I had most of it written and then I just hit a writer's block. I can't guarantee when the next chapter will be up as I'm back in college and ultra busy. Sorry about that. Don't forget to review if you like it.
Le bon matin cher (French): Good morning dears
Oui (French): Yes
Comprenez? (French): Understand?
mon petit enfant (French): my small child
Mademoiselle (French): title of an unmarried woman
Monsieur (French): title of any man, married or otherwise
ma dame juste (French): my fair lady
mon amant (French): my lover