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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.
Please contact her at Roadrunner@coastnet.com
I thought about a lot of things while I lay half conscious on the cold, hard floor. Mostly, though, I thought about what could be done for gypsies. Could anything be done? Were we beyond all hope?
“Never give up hope. Someday things will change, and when they do I know you’ll be right up front. The important thing is to always believe. If you give up believing than you lose everything you have.”
“You were right mom.” I said to
the empty room. “Things are going to change, and I’m not only going to
be in the front, I’m going to be leading.” Just then I heard a scraping
sound from outside and the heavy door swung open silently. It can’t be
morning yet. I thought curiously, lifting my eyes to the doorway. There
stood Minchy.
“What?!” I exclaimed, sitting up
quickly. Then cursing as pair seared my flesh. “Minchy! You shouldn’t be
here!”
“It’s all right. Nobody saw me.
Come on, we have to hurry!” She stepped inside the cell and grabbed my
arm to help me stand. I tried to rush but I was getting dizzy. “Clopin
would have come but he couldn’t fit through the window.” She smiled suddenly,
“He got stuck halfway through and I had to call Esmeralda to pull him out.”
I grimaced and we slowly began
walking towards the door. I hadn’t gotten much of a look at the prison
when I had been dragged in, but now I saw it and gasped. Thick doors lined
the dark long hallway in either direction. Moans and crying came from different
cells. At the end of the hall there was a big lump on the floor. When I
looked harder I could make out the shape of a man. “What did you do to
him?” I asked her, whispering.
She shrugged, “Knocked him out
with a candle stick.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Must have
been some candle stick.” I remarked. A loud wail erupted from the cell
next to mine and I felt my heart give a lurch. “We can’t leave these people
here.” I told her. “They don’t deserve it.”
She nodded but kept walking. “Neither
do you, but if we get caught your going to get hung in the morning. Let’s
wait until your arm’s healed until we plan any rescue attempts. O.k.?”
For once I was inclined to agree
with her. Slowly we hobbled up the stairs to the ground floor of The
Palace of Justice where we slipped
through a window and outside.
Well, I thought. Here we are. The
Court of Miracles was bustling as usual but it didn’t seem so magical now
that I had realized it was just a hiding place. I was very tired and when
we got to the orange and purple tent, reserved for unexpected guests, I
pretty well fell onto the chair set up for me. A table beside it held a
basket of fruit but I wasn’t hungry.
“Well! You’ve returned have you?”
Clopin’s voice was unmistakable as he entered the tent. I didn’t even need
to look up to know it was him, but I did anyway. “Did Minchy-” He stopped
talking and his mouth hung open in mid word. His eye’s focused on my shirt.
Confused I glanced down to see what he was staring at. In all the bustle
and rushing my necklace had fallen out of my shirt and now hung in plain
view.
“Is that the necklace Minchy was
talking about?” He asked startled.
Suddenly I was defiant. So what
if it was? “Yes, it is.” I told him, my jaw tight. For a full minute he
didn’t say anything. I glanced at his face and saw a flash of hurt, pain
and betrayal beyond my comprehension. Then he looked into my face and I
almost winced. His eyes, a moment before dancing with fun, were now hard
as ice and twice as cold. His mouth was set in a thin line and he had grown
pale. “How dare you come in here.” His voice was deathly even. “How dare
you ask our help, misuse our trust and violate our sanctuary?!” He grew
louder with every word until he was shouting. “You bastard!” He howled,
his voice breaking on the last syllable.
“What’s going on?” Minchy asked
in a quiet voice, peering into the tent.
“Get out of here Minchy.” Clopin’s
voice was commanding. She wrinkled her brow but disappeared with a worried
expression.
“Clopin.” I spoke with control.
He doesn’t know any better, I thought. He doesn’t know the truth. “This
necklace was given to me by my mother.” His eyes reflected doubt. “She
gave it to me before she left my father and I. It is all I have of her.”
I paused. “That’s the only reason I wear it.” For a second I thought. Then
I corrected myself.
“No. I also wear it to remind me
of what happened.” I gave him a hard look. “I’m not trying to ignore it.
I know what happened. Four gypsies betrayed their kind by revealing the
location of a hide-out containing hundreds of falsely convicted gypsies.”
I held his stare for a long minute, but I broke away first. “My brother
was one of those four.” I said softly. “He gave his portion of the necklace
to my mother before Judge Claude Frollo hung him. It was her most valued
possession because it once belonged to him. That’s why I value it, it’s
all I have of my family.” I took a deep breath, “I don’t support the betrayal!
I wasn’t part of it!” My voice echoed in my ears. I saw belief trickle
into Clopin’s expression. Slowly at first, then a little quicker.
“But don’t you understand why it
happened?” I asked convictingly. “They make us desperate enough to betray
ourselves. Like rats killing each other off.” I paused for breath. “It
shouldn’t be this way! We shouldn’t have to hide, or beg, or put up with
this garbage! We’re human beings! We deserve to be treated fairly, not
with contempt or anger.” More quietly I added. “I’m not making excuses
for my brother. What he did was unforgivable. But in the end I believe
he had no choice.” I looked into Clopin’s eyes, really looked and finally
found what I was searching for. “I chose a different path. I won’t bend
a knee to anyone. I won’t play by their rules! I am a gypsy, and I’m proud
of it! I am going to show everyone that we won’t be stepped on anymore,
that we aren’t worthless. I’m going to fight back.” My breath came in gasps
after my long “speech”.
Clopin’s face was still tight,
but his eyes weren’t cold. After what seemed like an eternity he spoke.
“When do we start?”
To be continued....
On to One Fine Day In Paris-Ch 10
Back to One
Fine Day In Paris-Ch 8