Lux Nova pt.3

"Good morning, Quasimodo," said a voice that was like the world having a record scratch pause.  There, right in front of the hunchback, was a old man in a smooth, black silk suit, a crisp red tie, expensive leather shoes, and a black Indiana Jones hat with a red ribbon around the part that covered his short, silver hair.

On his slightly gnarled hands, he wore three rings; a circular sapphire and a diamond cut ruby adorned his right index and ring fingers, respectively, whereas on his left index finger, a jade orb shone in the slight sunlight.  He wore no cologne, but he didn't any for you to know that he reeked of great authority and prominent prestige.  And if that weren't enough to intimidate you, his eyes, his sunken, sky blue eyes, were capable of glares so intense that one would cower at the faintest glimpse of discontent in them.

"G-g-good... good morning, Master," said Quasimodo nervously.  He smoothed his hands awkwardly on his jeans as his foster father stepped into the bell tower.  Obviously, he should've thought before saying his plans outloud.

"My boy, whomever are you talking to?" inquired Claude Frollo innocently.  Oh no!  That meant he was especially displeased.  Quasimodo had better watch his tongue, lest he arouse his anger further; he was mad enough at Lucia already.

"My... friends," replied Quasimodo honestly.  Sadly though, his stoney friends only came to life when he was alone.  Never had any person ever seen, nor could see, their existence besides him, Lucia exempted.  It must have had something to do with their loneliness.

Anyhow, after having his "foolish pretending" guilt-tripped by Frollo, Quasimodo fetched the silverware, plates, and goblets needed to feast upon whatever delicacy was contained in the cloth bag today; it (the bag) had been plastic until a couple years ago when the university students had caught onto the "mad craze of the Green Revolution", as Frollo called it.  And yet, he didn't want to seem conspicuous.  Imagine that.

"Shall we review your alphabet today?" asked Frollo as he began to pour a 1996 Pinot Noir, aged to perfection, into their goblets.  In reply, Quasimodo got out his sketch book, dejected but eager to show his master the illuminations he'd been working on.  Frollo opened the book and the game commenced.  "Very well.  A?"

"Abomination," replied Quasimodo.

"B?" "Blasphemy." "C?" "Contrition." "D?" "Damnation." "E?" "Eternal damnation!"

"Good work. F?"  For once, the old professor was impressed with the turn that the illuminations had taken; last time, he had said they were too happy, so Quasi felt a small flush of pride at his "father" marveled at the Grunweld and Van Der Weyden inspired backgrounds.  He couldn't wait to see his face when he saw the one he had done for Forgiveness.

Frollo turned the page and did an Anton Ego spit take, but thankfully not on the sketch book.  After wiping his mouth with a handkerchief from his suit pocket, Frollo intoned a confused "Excuse me?" to Quasimodo.  "I said Forgiveness," said Quasi firmly.

"It says 'Festival'," said Frollo, indicating the page with an accusing finger.  Quasimodo stared over the book in horror!  There, instead of an F inspired by 'The Return of the Prodigal Son', was a letter F surrounded by streamers, flags, and colorful confetti.  "No!" he shouted.

"You're thinking about going to the festival."  Oh great.  Now he'd done it; Frollo was mad at both him and Lucia.

"It's just that you and Lucia go every year," he said, trying to asuage Frollo's super-ego influenced temper.

"I am a former public official and a prominent professor of the college.  I must go, but I don't enjoy a moment," said Frollo dryly in a "You should know this by now." tone of voice as he walked toward the balcony of the bell tower.  "Cheerleaders and frat boys, the dregs of the college community, all mixed together in a shallow, drunken stupor."

"I didn't mean to upset you, Master," said Quasimodo truthfully, close behind his master.

Frollo looked out at the campus spread out beneath him before he turned around to face his "son", supposedly offended and definitely peeved.  "Quasimodo, can't you understand?  When your heartless mother abandoned you as a child, anyone else would've drowned you.  And this is my thanks for taking you in and raising you as my son?"

"I meant no disrespect, Sir."

"Oh my dear Quasimodo.  You don't know what it's like out there; Lucia doesn't know either.  I do.  I do."  To drive home the point, Frollo sang the familiar tune of the song he used to get Quasimodo to be a good little Christian youth, and to get Lucia to stay away from boys.

The world is cruel.
The world is wicked.
It's I alone whom you can trust in this whole city.
I am your only friend.
I, who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you.
I, who look upon you without fear.
How can I protect you, boy
Unless you always stay in here?
Away in here?

"Remember what I taught you Quasimodo," he said, signalling for the hunchback to join in with his required replies as they journeyed back toward Quasimodo's loft.

You are deformed. (I am deformed.)
And you are ugly.  (And I am ugly.)
And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity.
You do not comprehend.  (You are my one defender.)
Out there, they'll revile you as a monster.  (I am a monster.)
Out there, they will hate and scorn and jeer.  (Only a monster.)
Why invite their calumny and consternation?
Stay in here!
Be faithful to me. (I'm faithful.)
Grateful to me.  (I'm grateful.)
Do as I say, obey,
And stay in here.  (I'll stay in here.)

"You are good to me, Master," said Quasimodo, all traces of happiness gone from his heart now.  "I'm sorry."

"You are forgiven," the self-righteous Frollo said as he turned to leave.  Then, he looked back and said, "Remember Quasimodo.  This is your sanctuary."  And then he left the bell tower.