One Fine Day In Paris-Chapter Ten


Written and copyrighted entirely and solely to C.L.S.Copyright (c) 1997 Crystal would like to hear any comments you have in regard to her story.
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You wouldn’t think it to look at him but Clopin is one dangerous gypsy. Sure he’s downright skinny, his hair gets in his eyes a lot and he dresses in purple, yellow and pink, but I definitely wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. Why?
“We could always capture Frollo and torture him until he gives his soldiers the orders to leave the city.”
“We could set the Palace of Justice on fire and wait until everyone rushes out before we chop them into pieces.”
Believe it or not these suggestions came from Clopin. I had a few more, but they weren’t so blood thirsty.

We were just completing our discussion when a gypsy boy named Pap, ran into our tent. He quickly notified us that Frollo himself was on the warpath for me. Apparently the guards who had brought me into the Palace of Justice had resigned, claiming that it was getting too dangerous to hunt gypsies anymore. I smiled when I heard this, Clopin frowned. “I still don’t like the idea of you going up against Frollo by yourself.” He complained amiably. Once again I explained that it was the only way. We had to lead him into a trap and I had to be the bait. We walked outside to share our plans with the rest of the Court of Miracles.

“Sanctuary!” A voice pierced the night, “Sanctuary!” a loud banging followed each call as a lone figure pounded on the door of the cathedral. His voice was so loud that every soldier within five streets smiled to themselves and began to move in closer in hopes of capturing yet another one of the gypsies Frollo hated so much. All at once the calling stopped, again there was silence. The guards wondered at the sudden stop but began making their way back to their posts. All at once there was a loud yell and a group of noisy gypsies erupted from the shadows. Almost without a struggle they knocked the guards off and dawned the soldiers attire, dragging the limp men into the alleyways.

Sequence one complete.

There was a loud knock on the hollow door, making a resounding echo in the large chamber. Judge Claude Frollo was startled from a dream and sat bolt upright in is chair. He had been reading the day’s report from his guards and had fallen asleep.

“We’ve caught the gypsy Sovereign Brigand.” Said a deep voice, the soldier had entered the doorway and now spoke to Frollo. “Sir.” He added uncomfortably. Frollo’s eyes grew large.
“Her name is not Sovereign Brigand! It is Jessie, Jessie Trouillefou!” Frollo could not hide his rage at hearing the disobedient gypsy girl called a leader. Fuming he followed the guard from his chamber down the long stairway into the street. He didn’t even notice that the guard had brown skin and wore a gold earring.

Sequence two complete.

I was breathing rather hard, having been chased all the way across town by a mob of soldiers all intent upon pleasing Frollo by capturing me. I stepped into the street infront of Notre Dame and glanced behind me, making sure the guards could see me.
“Sanctuary!” I called, in what I thought was a desperate if what somewhat breathless voice. Then, in a muttered undertone, “Let me in, Minchy!” The door swung open and I slipped inside just in time, leaving twenty or so guards outside. “Impecable timing, Minchy.” I told her. She lifted her hood and I gasped, it was Clopin.
“Minchy couldn’t make it.” He explained.
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious, she sprained her ankle and had to hide. By the time she got out the soldiers were blocking the streets to Notre Dame.” I sighed, relieved and began to walk up to the pre-arranged tower. Clopin followed close behind. “I’ll hide under here.” He said from under a low table in the small room high above Paris’ streets. “Just don’t come out until I give the signal, Frollo hast to think he won or this won’t work right.” He nodded and ducked out of sight.

Sequence three complete.

“Please help this work God.” I prayed silently as I watched Judge Claude Frollo slowly make his way to the front doors of Notre Dame. In as much as a dignified manner as he could Frollo climbed the stairs to my trap and opened the door. The scene he came upon was me sitting on the window sill crying. I glanced up through my tears at the stern man now standing in the doorway. His face was like ice, his eye’s burned with a raging fire and I saw he held a sharp glistning daggar in his left hand.
“You’ve won.” I told him quietly, “I can’t fight anymore.” With a smile he took a step forward.
“You should not have tried to oppose me, Jessie Trouillefou. You knew you could not win.” I heard a smothered gasp from beneath the table at the mention of my name, but Frollo didn’t seem to notice. “Your father made the same mistake and I punished him as well.”
“Punished?” I asked mockingly, slowly raising to a standing position. “You murdered him.” I said icely. Frollo’s smile turned into a frown and he raised his daggar higher. “Oh you can kill me, I have no doubts about that.” My voice grew menicing with years of bottled up anger I didn’t know I had. “But can you kill all the gypsies now attacking your soldiers? All the gypsies invading your city?” As if to prove my point there was a great outcry from below us. “You can’t win Frollo. This time it’s our victory.” I took a step forward and Frollo’s hand wavered. “We’ve won our right to live. The right you took from us.”
“No!” Frollo yelled suddenly. “This is my city! I will not let it be infested will your kind!” In a flash he lunged forward and struck out with his blade. I jumped back just in time. Frollo lost his balace and teetered forward, waving his arms as he began falling out the window.

I saw my chance to let evil die, let Frollo pay for his crimes. Then I reached out and grabbed his arm. Pulling with all my strength I dragged him inside, until we both collapsed on the floor. Standing I brushed myself off. “You are the only one infesting this city,” I told him harshly, “you and your twisted mind.” I turned to signal Clopin. A sharp pain erupted in my back, followed by
another. I felt my shirt turn hot and sticky and my head felt light. Then I fell down and lay on the floor, gazing up at Judge Claude Frollo holding a dark red daggar.

I barely saw Clopin leap from his hiding place and knock the man from the tower, his scream penetrating all of Paris. I saw the look on his face as he fell though. And that was enough for me.
“Jessie!” Clopin exclaimed, his voice full of fear. He knelt down beside me. “Say something! Anything!” I could hear the franticness in his voice and realized the gravity of my situation.
“Clopin.” I managed to get out. “We won.” Smiling softly he nodded.
“Yes, we did.” He brushed the hair from my eyes.
“I never told you that,” I paused to catch my breathe which was coming in gasps now, “your my uncle.”
Nodding he told me, “Your father, my brother, would be very proud of you.” With a tear in his eye he added softly, “So am I.”
That was all I needed to hear. Somewhere in all this mess my life had gotten meaning. I smiled at my uncle and closed my eyes, the last thing I heard was the happy cries from all the gypsies below me on the streets of Paris. The last thought I had was, “It certainly is a fine day in Paris.”

The End

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