Flashback 4: Claude and Jean
Claude froze in his father's office. Professor Cartier was currently complaining about him, and Claude feared his father's reaction.
Cartier stormed off soon enough. Just as soon, Claude was hit with a loud slap.
"You disgrace me!" His father yelled. "Falling asleep in class! How DARE you?!"
Claude recovered from the slap. He barely managed to speak.
"It wasn't my fault..." He said timidly.
"And how can that be?!"
"Professor Cartier gives me too much work. I was up all night. I couldn't help-"
A fist flew into Claude's nose, making him cry out in pain.
"I will have none of your excuses!" Claude's father insisted. "Do you know why Professor Cartier gives you so much work? It's because you are the best in your class! At least, you were. You're down to second best now that you've committed this offense!"
Claude's father hit him again, then started to knock things off his desk and scream. It was a terrifying fit of rage. Claude couldn't speak.
"Your mother will faint when she hears this!" The angry professor shouted. "Why do you disappoint us like this?! You are meant for better, Claude! You are meant to be the best! What will everyone say now? They will say that Professor Frollo's son fell asleep in class and lost his standing!"
"I'm sorry..." Claude apologized.
"I don't want your apologies! Go and write that composition that you slept through, and make sure it is flawless! And don't bother coming home until you have finished!"
Claude nodded. He exited his father's office with his head down, groaning in pain and humiliation.
"Claude?" A calm voice called.
Claude looked to his left. Not far down the hallway was another student, staring at him.
"Do I know you?" Claude asked.
"I'm in Cartier's class." The student replied.
Claude vaguely remembered seeing this classmate around, but he struggled to think of a name.
"Sorry, what's your name?"
"I'm Jean. What happened to you?"
Claude realized there was blood dripping from his nose. He wiped it away.
"I angered my father." He explained.
"Your father? You mean Professor Frollo?"
"Yes... He's mad that I fell asleep in class."
"Well, that wasn't your fault. Professor Cartier gives you too much work!"
"I should be able to keep up."
"I don't blame you for struggling. I think your father just has anger issues."
As if to prove Jean's point, sounds of cursing and things being thrown came from Professor Frollo's office.
"He wouldn't be so angry if he had a better son." Claude said with humility.
He started to walk down the hallway, but Jean caught up with him.
"I'm having drinks with some friends." Jean shared. "Why don't you join us? Just to make your day a little better."
Claude remembered the composition he had to write, but he felt that he would benefit from a drink. He reasoned that it would work out. He would have time to complete the composition later that day.
He went with Jean to the common room of one of the student boarding houses. It was the first time Claude had been there. Students who had come from far places lived here. But Claude was lucky (or perhaps unlucky) to be able to live with his parents, since they lived close to the University on account of Claude's father teaching there.
Claude enjoyed his drink, though he didn't enjoy Jean's friends as much. They were loud and talkative.
"So, Claude," One of them started. "What area of study are you interested in?"
"Law." Claude replied abruptly, sipping his beverage.
"Why do you want to do that?" Another student asked. "The three of us are going on to study medicine."
He gestured to himself and Jean's two other friends.
"I want to purge the world of sin." Claude declared. "The most noble cause I can imagine."
"That sounds exhausting." The third friend commented. "How do you figure you'll do it?"
"I will become Minister of Justice," Claude said with determination. "And enforce the law like no one ever has."
Jean's friends laughed. Jean smiled.
"That's ambitious." He complimented. "Do you know what I want to do? I want to study theology and become a priest!"
"How boring of you, Jean!" The first friend playfully insulted. "At least Claude has interesting career plans, even if they're not realistic."
"I wouldn't be so sure." Jean argued. "Claude is at the top of the class!"
"Almost..." Claude reminded.
"Oh, right..."
Claude only hoped that he would manage to rise to the top again before next week's graduation, when he would move on from the required arts studies into his studies of law. He didn't want to think of the look on his father's face if he didn't make it to the top.
"Well, we ought to prepare him! The second friend announced. "Can you defend yourself against a criminal, Claude? Come and box with me!"
"No, thank you." Claude declined.
"Please! I won't hurt you!"
Claude realized that the idea of punching this fellow was rather appealing. He finished his drink and started boxing with him. It wasn't hard. Claude managed to land several punches and avoid being hit. He smirked with pride, but not for long. He finally took a blow, which landed on his scar. He fell down with a cry of agony.
Jean and his friends stared. No one dared to speak. Claude cursed under his breath and stood up.
"Thanks for the drink." He said insincerely. "I'll be leaving now."
Jean followed him as he left.
"Claude! I'm sorry!"
"Leave me be." Claude demanded. "I need to visit the library."
He spent the rest of the day in the library, working on the composition and occasionally taking a break to read. As the sun started to set, he finished it. Satisfied, he made his way home.
"Father!" Claude called when he came inside. "I've finished it!"
Unusually, Claude didn't hear his father's heavy footsteps approaching. Instead, he heard his mother crying. He went to the source of the sound and found his mother collapsed over his father's lifeless body.
Claude dropped his things and rushed to the scene, but his mother quickly pushed him away.
"STAY AWAY!" She ordered.
"Mother..." Claude whispered.
The figure of his father was motionless on the floor. No... It couldn't be!
"HE'S DEAD!" Claude's mother yelled. "He came home shouting about you falling asleep in class... And had a heart attack!"
"No..." Claude muttered.
He refused to believe it. His father couldn't be dead. He had seen him mere hours ago!
"This is YOUR FAULT!" His mother accused. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't let him down like that!"
The grieving woman cried into her husband's chest. Claude was paralyzed. His father was dead, and it was his fault. Grief and shame overcame him. He fell to his knees in front of his father's body, breaking down in tears.
A burial was needed. Claude ended up asking help from the only person he could think of: Jean. Jean helped him dig the grave and bury his father's body. When they finished, Jean tried to offer his condolences.
"I'm so sorry, Claude." He said honestly.
"This is my fault..." Claude said mournfully.
"No... Claude..."
Claude turned away from his classmate, walking off into the streets alone. He couldn't be around anyone. He needed to suffer alone, to acknowledge his shame...
He missed classes the next day. When he returned, most of his professors kindly acknowledged his loss. Except Professor Cartier.
"Your composition was well done." The professor acknowledged. "But I won't take back the consequences of your laziness. You will take the lesser score in my class."
"Professor..." Claude begged. "You know my father just died. He wanted me to finish at the top of the class! If I don't succeed-"
"You are too late." Cartier insisted. "Your classmate, Antoine, will graduate first. He has never fallen asleep or missed a day of class!"
"But you didn't challenge him as much!" Claude argued.
"You have failed." Professor Cartier insulted. "So unless Antoine happens to disappoint me in a worse manner, you will finish as the second best!"
Unless...
Claude focused on that word. He thought of it for hours. Ideas occurred to him. Malicious ideas.
Honor thy mother and father...
Claude had been raised on those words. Righteous men honored their parents, and Claude was determined to be a righteous man.
His father had wanted him to be the best. It was only right, Claude reasoned, to grant that wish.
He asked Jean whether he knew where Antoine lived, claiming that the two of them were studying together. Jean did happen to know, and provided Claude with the location of Antoine's room. Claude sneaked in the next morning, before dawn. He hid himself in the dark, spying on his classmate as he sat at a desk, finishing his necessary writing before class.
Claude moved forward, his hands ready with the heaviest metal pot he had been able to find. He took a quiet breath and dropped it on his classmate's head.
Antoine collapsed over his desk. Excellent. Claude picked up the container of ink his classmate had been using.
"Father..." He whispered. "You would understand..."
He poured the ink all over the paper that Antoine had been writing on.
"So will God..."
Things didn't look good for Antoine when he showed up to class late with his work covered in ink. He insisted that he didn't know how it had happened, but Professor Cartier didn't believe him. He was so disappointed in the student that he lowered his grade below Claude's.
Claude was proud of himself when he graduated at the top of the class, but he was soon confronted by Jean.
"What have you done?" Jean interrogated fiercely.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Claude insisted.
"I know you're behind what happened to Antoine!" Jean accused. "How could you do such a thing?!"
"Excuse me?" Claude asked. "Antoine was the one who made a mistake. Quite foolish of him, don't you think?"
"You asked me where he lived!" Jean brought up. "Then this happened! Claude... I know your father wanted you to be the best, but this is terrible!"
"No one will believe you." Claude insulted. "You'd be best off forgetting this."
Jean never forgot. Years later, when he became the archdeacon of Notre Dame, he would remember this as the story of the troubled Claude Frollo's descent into madness. The same Claude Frollo who forgot about him and went on to terrorize Paris.