Chapter 15:
More than most things she had done in her life, Esmeralda was aware that what she was doing was both stupid and wrong. It would be better, or at least more intelligent, to cower below the city in her underground sanctuary… however long doing so could make her starve.
Above the abiding sense of paranoia was a singing thrill which she knew she ought to keep under control.
She dodged the cathedral and set up with Gringoire just outside the Ile de Cite. "I think if you are so used to telling stories badly—" she began, only to see his face fall a thousand miles into the depths of misery, "—or at least your stories are often misunderstood by those you tell them to, you can try to make them amusing."
Gringoire took some time to recover his ego, but finally he gave her a somewhat hopeful glance. "What would you do if you wanted to tell a funny story?" he asked shyly.
"Exaggerate, make a funny voice, and above all laugh at yourself. Sometimes all the audience needs is to know you're having fun, and it makes them giddy along with you. That's what Clopin does with his puppets, but I think we'll have to use our own selves."
"In what capacity?"
Esmeralda paused, both because he'd used a word she wasn't entirely certain she'd grasped the meaning of, and partially because she had an idea and had to think of how to explain it.
"What Clopin does with puppets, we have to do ourselves. Have you ever seen a puppet show?" She took Djali by the front legs and danced with her in a little circle. It was not the graceful and sensual manner she ordinarily adopted, but a loping and half clumsy childish dance.
"You see," she drawled out in a mimicry of the high-flung accent Gringoire used whenever he tried to sound impressive, "when I look silly, and I sound silly, someone might—"
There was no need for her to say the word "laugh" aloud, as a child nearby had begun to giggle.
Pierre gazed from Esmeralda and Djali to their audience in wonder, and Esmeralda briefly wondered if he'd never had an audience react the way he meant them to in his life. How sad for a performer!
"Let me join in!" he exclaimed, and began to prance along with her, with a tremendously quick grasp of the tempo which impressed her at last.
A second child developed an interest in their dancing, and before her mother could disengage them both from watching the dancing, Esmeralda told Gringoire, "Quickly! A story!"
Pierre wavered for a moment, babbling out something half comprehensible as Esmeralda augmented it with the occasional "Ooh," and a smattering of "Aah's."
Steadily more children and their bewildered mothers were drawn to the ridiculous trio, and Esmeralda placed the money hat on the ground just far enough away that the Parisians could access it without having to get too close.
A glimpse of shining armor caught her eye in the midst of changing up the routine such that she and Gringoire were juggling Djali between them.
It was a difficult sport while Djali went bleating through the air, as one had to avoid both her sharp little hooves and her horns, but Esmeralda still noticed that this armor was golden like the sun.
Djali went careening into her and knocked her backward off her feet, which caused her to sprawl on the cobblestones to the amusement of the children.
Stunned as Djali licked apologetically at her face and rubbed the crown of her head against her cheek, Esmeralda stared up at the sky.
This was her chance to see Phoebus again!
He wouldn't even have to see her!
Slowly, Esmeralda sat up, hearing the constant clatter of coin into the hat, and took stock of it. There was just enough to afford some bread… She snatched up half of it. "Keep up the good work, I'm off," she said.
"But Clopin said—"
"Hush, listen to me. I'm going on an errand, you are to hone your skills, understand?"
"Yes, mademoiselle," he said fervently. "But can I keep Djali?" Gringoire—or rather perhaps she ought to call him Pierre—was now begging. "She is quite necessary to the proper execution of the performance!"
Esmeralda was so enchanted by the idea that she may come across Phoebus and speak alone with him she almost forgot to reply. "Yes, take good care of her, and remember to get her food."