"I do believe the ball was about this size", Claude Frollo
said as he held up a hefty Rome Beauty. "I thought you
didn't want
to be reminded of that 'unfortunate incident', Claude", I
said as
I nodded my approval of the apples he had chosen.
We
ended a
full day's activities and Claude was getting tired. I could
always tell
when he's had enough, for he appeared clearly agitated and
became easily
irritated at the slightest provocation. Come to think of
it, he was in
a similar mood on that fateful day. I reminded myself to
tread softly
whenever he gets this way, especially when brought on by
too much work,
or, in this case, too much pleasure.
On the way home,
Claude looked at me
and said, "Danisha, looking back on it, the whole incident was so insignificant. Yet, we nearly lost
each other..."
Within minutes we wheeled into my driveway. Once inside,
Claude started a cozy fire while I unpacked cider, apples,
and gingerbread.
I called out to Claude, "Do you still like lots of cinnamon
and nutmeg
in your cider, baby?"
No response.
"Claude,
did you hear me?" I walked into the living room to find
Claude Frollo
stretched out in front of the fireplace, sound asleep.
Poor thing.
All that running around really wore him out, I guess our
treat will have
to wait.
I gently covered him with a blanket,
snuggled
next to him, and pondered his words, "We nearly lost each
other."
And all because of the unfortunate combination of a
pleasant afternoon,
an ill-tempered official, and an errant baseball.
What a glorious afternoon! The Parisian summer
proved to be quite pleasant, nothing like the oppressive
hot, humid days
back home.
Fern had left Paris a few days before because she
had promised her son a trip to Texas before he started his
second year
at college. Fern didn't want to leave me alone in Paris but
she had no
choice. "Can you manage to keep yourself occupied while I'm
gone?",
she asked.
"Sure, Fern. Go on. Have a good time", I said,
adding,
"I'll stay out of trouble. Promise." Fern hugged me
good-bye,
"Good! Keep it that way. I don't want to return and find
you stuffed
in the stocks...or worse."
I knew she was referring to
Claude Frollo,
but I wasn't worried; Claude and I were on friendly terms.
What could possibly
go wrong?
The kids had begged me to teach them some new
games,
so I brought out all this playground stuff: jump ropes, balls,
and baseball
equipment. I was hesitant about bringing the baseball
stuff, knowing that
it would be nearly 400 years before the game's invention,
but what the
heck: Just throw the ball and hit it, what's so difficult
about that?
The children were truly fascinated with learning baseball.
I'll admit,
for 15th century kids, they quickly picked up on the
game.
I
took the kids to the square near the Palace of Justice to
practice pitching
and hitting. One little boy had a tough time swinging the
bat, and I, being
the patient teacher I am, offered to show him the proper
swinging technique.
Now I'm not the athletic type; in fact, the last time I
held a bat was
in high school, and I was lucky I could hit the ball.
"Here, honey",
taking the bat in my hands, "let me show you. Keep your eye
on the
ball." A little girl with a potent pitching arm threw a
fast ball.
I missed it. The kids started laughing, but I was cool
about it. "Okay,
so I'm a little rusty. That's all right, baby", I told her,
"just
pitch it again."
She pitched it hard and fast this
time,
and, with a stroke of luck, I hit it! Crack! The
sound
of the ball against the wooden bat was like heavenly music.
Then I heard
the shattering of glass, a sound every ballplayer dreads.
Sure enough,
I had hit the ball with such force, it sailed up and across
the square,
and straight through Judge Frollo's window.
The kids
were visibly
frightened, for they knew Frollo would surely and severely
punish them,
but I told them not to worry. It was my ball and I broke
the window. .
I'll just apologize, offer to pay for damages, and he'll
forgive me. End
of story. I had no inkling of what was to transpire between
us as I ascended
the Palace steps.
Come on, I swallowed hard as I knocked
at the
door leading to his study, he'll forgive you. After all,
we're friends...right?
"Come in, Danisha," Claude softly said.
I
briskly entered the room and immediately began atoning for
my carelessness.
"Oh, Claude, I'm so SORRY about the window. I'll help pay
for it,
I swear I will. We shouldn't have been playing so close..."
Claude Frollo
shot me a look that could melt the polar icecaps. "Give me
one good
reason why I should not arrest you now."
I was taken
aback.
Surely he wouldn't punish me even after I apologized.
"Claude, I said
I was sorry. What else do you want? Look, I'll work it
off...help pay for
replacing the window. I'll wash all the windows. I'll even
scrub the floors
with a toothbrush. Just say you accept my apology."
Claude
pondered a bit, still staring icily at me. Finally, he
said, "You
have admitted your guilt, offered an apology, and I must
say I'm touched
by your offer to pay for the damages. However, horrible as
it is, I must
do my duty."
I trembled with fear and anger. I was
afraid
of being punished and angry that Claude Frollo, a man who
professed to
be my 'friend', could once again turn on me just like
that.
"How
can you do this? I thought we we're friends. We were really
getting along..."
Claude interrupted, "Oh my dear Nisha, we are still friends,
but..." He paused in mid-sentence, then snapped his fingers and said, "I have an idea! Working off the debt does seem
like a
viable alternative. You shall perform so many hours of work, I'll
forget this
little incident, and all's well." Claude offered a slight
smile as
I sighed with relief, "Claude, I don't know...thank you."
Then
I added, "Now that's over, may I please have my ball?"
Claude Frollo looked at me with twinkling eyes, then walked
over to his
desk and deposited the ball in a drawer. "I'll return this
offending
party when your debt is satisfied, and no sooner."
My
eyes
were wide with disbelief! "That was a special autographed
ball! I
caught that last year and waited in line for God-knows how
long for...How
could you?"
"Let me repeat. You shall have your ball
once you fulfill your punishment." Claude walked over to
the broken
window and traced the jagged glass remains. "You shall
start tomorrow.
I'll have ready a list of duties to be performed. Do try to
be on time,
my dear."
He flashed a wide, wicked grin, his voice was
cold and distant. I wanted to sock him, really ram my fist
into his smug,
smiling face.
"And how long will this punishment last?"
"The remainder of your vacation", came his quick
response.
"You can't do that! What will I tell Fern? What about
Quasi?
The kids?..." I was too angry to speak any more.
Claude
walked up behind me, hissing in my ear, "Well, Danisha dear, you
should
have thought of that before. Now, take your punishment or
else..."
"Or else what?...you know, I really should knock you out!"
And
with that, I swung around and was ready to deliver a
perfect right hook,
but Claude quickly grabbed my arm and I found myself locked
against him.
"You lowdown, mean son-of-a...let me go!", I screamed as I
struggled
to free myself.
Claude Frollo wickedly laughed in my
ear, "You
really are a WILD one!" The more he laughed, the angrier I
became.
I kept struggling in his grasp - Damn, but he was strong! -
and called
him every filthy name I could think of. I kicked, I
screamed, and, in a
last-ditch move, I locked my foot behind his, knocking us
off balance.
In a tangle of black velvet and blue calico, we tumbled to
the floor, with
me still kicking and flailing away. Somehow, C
ab8
laude managed
to pin me down
on my back.
"How DARE you! How DARE you!", he said
through clenched teeth as he pinned down my arms. I
couldn't move an inch;
he was that strong.
"Claude! All right! I give up! Just let me
go!" Visions of me dangling from a rope, stretched out on
the rack,
or, I shuddered, tied to a stake raced through my mind.
"Claude!",
I begged, "Didn't you hear me? I said I give..."
Without
warning, Claude's mouth came crashing down on mine. I tried
to free myself,
but his kiss...it was so physical, insistant, intensely
passionate. Claude
relaxed his grip, I stopped fighting, and soon my arms
encircled him. His
hands were entangled in my hair, and mine stroked his soft iron
gray locks.
I could feel myself tremble with enjoyment, but my mind
kept fighting
what my body was feeling.
Suddenly, Claude released me,
sat up,
and looked at me with pained eyes. "Oh, my darling", he
said
with panting breath, "I didn't mean...Oh, Danisha, please forgive
me."
I was too angry, too confused to say anything. All I could
do was fight
back tears. As I got to my feet, Claude caught my hand,
kissed it, but
I pulled away.
"Please", he begged, tears streaming
down his face, "stay with me." He reached out to me again,
but
I stood my ground. Through tears I said, "I wish I never
came to Paris,
I wish I never met you." I fumbled through my skirt pocket
and pulled
out a coin. Just before I turned to leave, I tossed it to
him.
"What is this?', asked Claude, his voice still quavering.
"In
the immortal words of Travis Tritt: 'Here's a Quarter, Call
Someone Who
Cares'."
I walked out of the room, only to hear Claude
Frollo's
booming voice behind me, "Get out! Get out of my sight, out
of Paris,
and out of my life!"
I then heard the crashing of books
and furniture. I paused outside the door and I could hear him say
"Damn her!", over and over, punctuated by muffled sobs.
I almost
re-entered
the room; I actually began opening the door, but then I
decided, who cares -- Let him have his tantrum. Then I walked out of the Palace of
Justice for
what I thought would be the very last time.
Once home,
I started
packing my things. Heck, I wouldn't even wait for Fern.
I'll hitch a ride
on a boat to England, stow away on one of those
spice-and-silk trips to
the Orient. Whatever. I desperately needed to get out of
Paris and out of Claude Frollo's life.
CopyrightŠ1997 by FrolloFreak.