"Oh Nisha, do you have to leave?",
Quasi asked as we packed the now-finished Civil War battle
set. "I'm
sorry, Quasi, but let's just say your master and I don't
exactly see eye-to-eye",
I said, admiring the amazing accuracy of Quasi's work, even
though the
events depicted would not happen for almost 400 years.
Although I never
told him of my latest stormy encounter with Frollo,
Quasimodo became strangely
defensive of his guardian.
"Look, just because he said
some
things that rubbed you the wrong way....", he said with a
sigh, "Frollo's
not the easiest man to get along with, but I'm grateful to
him...I mean...Don't
leave because he got on your nerves." Quasi then gave me a
big hug.
"You've been a wonderful friend, brightening up my days.
You don't
know what it's like up here, all alone with no one to talk
to." He
then grinned broadly, saying, "Thanks for reading to me and
telling
me those wonderful stories. You know, I sometimes recite
those poems to
my gargoyle friends." He nodded to the three funny-looking
stone figures
nearby.
I mulled over his words, then told him, "Quasi,
how can I leave such a good friend. I promised I'd stay the
rest of the
summer, and...well...I not the type to break promises." We
hugged
each other again, and, just before Quasi headed downstairs,
he said, "Just
say you'll stay."
When I told him I'd stay for the rest
of the summer, Quasimodo was elated. "Great! I KNEW you
wouldn't go!
I've got chores to do downstairs. When I'm finished, could
we read some
more of those poems?"
"Sure, Quas, take your time.
I'm not going anywhere", I replied with a smile.
He was
right, I just couldn't leave; Claude and I will just have
to keep our distances.
After Quasi left, I settled down with a delightful little
volume of James
Whitcomb Riley's poetry. I got lost in the words; Riley's
Hoosier homespun
rhymes, written in that wonderful Indiana dialect, made me
so oblivious
to my surroundings that I almost didn't feel the tap on my
shoulder. Quasi
finished his chores already? I turned around and looked
dead into the eyes
of Claude Frollo.
I immediately got up and headed
for the steps,
but he caught me by the arm, and tenderly said, "Please, Nisha.
Don't leave,
my dear. There is so much we need to say to each other." I
was getting
ready to slap him, but his manner was so unusually gentle
this time, I sat
down again and listened.
Claude sat across from me,
took my hands
into his, and began what sounded like an apology. "I did
not come
here in search of a fight, but forgiveness. What happened
those few days
ago..." His voice began trembling with emotion. "I
shouldn't
have let things get so completely..."
I finished his
sentence,
"So completely out of hand, Claude?...No, Claude. I was the
guilty
party. I said terrible things to you, not to mention
causing all that mess
in the first place...." The words came tumbling out of my
mouth.
Claude sweetly kissed my hands, his voice still quavering.
"Don't
put all the blame on yourself, darling."
He then got up
and knelt in front of me. What was to come out of Claude
Frollo's mouth would
change my life forever. Claude's graceful hand gently
caressed my face
as he gazed into my eyes. "My dear Danisha," he began, his voice
breaking
with emotion, "you know I've grown quite fond of
you..."
He stopped himself, rose to his feet and paced the room.
His turned and
covered his face as if he didn't want me to see the depth
of his emotion.
Then Claude wheeled around to face me. His eyes were hot
with passion,
tears streamed down his finely chisled cheekbones.
"Why
don't I just come out and say it!", Claude bellowed in a
voice choked
with anguish, "For the past few days I have thought of
nothing but
you!" I felt as if shot a hundred times. I sat riveted to
my chair,
unable to move or speak.
He continued, "Night and day,
I
longed to feel your silky honeyed skin, gaze into those
enchanting brown
eyes. Oh, to hear your voice, that gloriously musical
voice, saying you
love me." Claude then knelt before me again, caressed my
hands, face,
and hair, then finally confessed, "I love you, dear sweet
Nisha, I
love you." My eyes were still locked into his; I had to say
something.
"Claude...did you say...what I think you said...You love
me?"
"Darling, what more is there to say?", Claude gently
replied,
as he drew closer to me and tenderly, yet passionately,
kissed my mouth.
My arms enfolded him and I, without hesitation, responded
to him with equal
passion. It was a long, slow kiss that rivaled the
sultriest and steamiest
of Indiana summers; it was that intense.
Afterwards,
Claude said
to me, "There, my love. Now...how can you leave Paris? I
was so looking
forward to spending the remainder of summer with you."
"Ooh
Claude", I cooed back, "I'm so glad I decided not to..."
I suddenly stopped myself.
Hold on! Time out!
HOW did he know I was leaving town? I told no one except
Quasi, and even
then I didn't reveal any details.
Claude looked at me
half-amusedly.
"Quasimodo is not the..what is that phrase your friend
uses...'tell-all'?...sort,
my dearest. But you really should be more careful with whom
you make travel
arrangements."
Claude Frollo, his mood now changed to
full-tilt
hilarity, continued laughingly, "My dear! The young
"organizer"
of that little expedition is one of my best spies!" He was
now on
his back, rolling and convulsing with uproarious laughter.
I was livid!
The man who just poured out his heart and soul to me, with
whom I shared
the sweetest and hottest of kisses, was getting a kick out
my naivete.
"How'd I know that dude was a spy?", I spoke
sistah-style.
"It's not funny, Claude."
"Oh, yes it is, dear
heart. And it's not just with WHOM you are travelling but
to WHERE!"
He sported a wide, evil grin as he continued his digs at
me.
"Honestly, darling, for the life of me...I can just
visualize you
in the wilds of Arabia." Claude words were punctuated with
his deep,
throaty laughter as he continued, "You, ending up in some
sultan's
harem, and the poor man putting up with your ever-changing
moods and saucy
tongue!" Still grinning, he sat in the chair across from me
and looked
at me in earnest.
"I'm sorry, darling, but I needed the
laugh after...If I offended you...I'm sorry, but...it's all
so funny."
He was still amused, and I was still smarting from the
levity enjoyed at
my expense. Out of some sense of false, wounded pride, I
immediately got
up and headed for the steps.
Claude, his amusement now
turned
to serious concern, caught me from behind. "Don't tell me
you're still
leaving, after all that was confessed here tonight."
I
pulled
away from him, gave him the look that I reserved only for
men who did me
wrong, and told him, "It appears YOU did all the talking,
confessing
your 'love'. And I really wanted to believe you." Claude
looked at
me in disbelief, but I kept on, "Then you have a laugh at
my expense,
poke fun of my...What did you mean my 'changing moods and
saucy tongue'?
Never mind, I'm out of here."
As I turned to descend the
steps, Claude came after me, pleading, "Please, Danisha, don't leave
me. I love
you!"
"What do you want from me, Claude?", I asked.
Claude Frollo gave me that same little-boy look I
beheld after
our first encounter. "Just tell me you love me, and that
you will
stay." He reached out for me, but I stepped back.
"Claude,
there're only two things that'll keep me here", I began,
"and that's Quasi
and the kids, but I think they can get along without me."
"And
what about ME?", Claude emotionally asked.
I sneered
back,
"What about you? You say you love me, but what'll happen
down the
road? You'll just turn around and treat me like
yesterday's garbage." Claude's eyes were bright with
emotion.
"I'd
never do that, my dear. I'd never mistreat my sweet
precious..."
He
had his arms around me, and began kissing me again. Oooh,
how I loved the
way his lips caressed my face and neck.
Mmmm...this
feels so wonderful! I was really enjoying this, so much
I wanted
to melt with him, be his woman forever and ever...
But
something
inside me snapped. I withdrew from his embrace, faced him
with hellfire
and fury. "No! I don't want this! I'm sorry, Claude, but I
got to
get out of here."
Claude again pleaded with me, "Why
can't I make you understand? Don"t you want to be with me,
to love
me?"
I edged my way to the steps. "Save your sob story
for someone else, baby. I'm outta here! And for what it's
worth, I may
not end up in Arabia, but I'd rather slog through the
Louisana swamps,
take my chances with the 'gators and snakes, than be stuck
in Paris with
the likes of you!" And with that, I stormed down the
steps.
He didn't even try to follow me. Good! I don't need him,
don't want him,
don't love...
I was halfway down the steps and
Claude still made
no attempts to pursue me. I stopped, sat down on the step,
and couldn't
believe what I just did.
I threw it away! A
once-in-a-lifetime
chance, a golden opportunity at happiness was handed to me,
and I blew
it!
All at once, Claude's words of love finally seeped
through
thick layers of my stubborn pride. I actually loved him! I
wanted him,
needed him... Maybe it's not too late!
Tears
rolled down my face as I raced back up the steps. It's
now or
never, girlfriend, if he changes his mind, you'll know who
to blame.
I stopped in the doorway and saw Claude Frollo, the
esteemed Minister of
Justice, a man of power and control, huddled on the floor,
sobbing softly.
I tip-toed up to him and lightly stroked his now-disheveled
gray hair.
"Claude", I said sobbingly, "I'm...I'm sorry." Claude
raised his eyes to me, and stretched out his hand.
Without hesitation,
I fell to my knees and embraced him. I felt his arms around
me and heard
him say to me over and over, "It's all right, my love. I
understand,
my sweet Nisha. You are forgiven, darling."
We kissed again
and
again, sweet, passionate kisses that would be exchanged
countless times
to come. "I love you, Claude Frollo, I love you. I didn't
mean to
hurt you", I tearfully confessed. There! I finally told
Claude I loved
him, something I should have done days before, but did not
have the courage. We
kissed again and held each other a long time.
At last,
Claude
stood up, and helped me to my feet. He neatened his hair
and donned the
famous triangular hat. He then embraced me again and
tenderly kissed my
a41
face as if to erase my tears. "Come along, my love, I'll
take you
home."
Claude and I walked arm-in-arm down
the long corridor of Notre Dame. Our eyes were locked on
each other; we
almost didn't notice Quasimodo, who was heading for the
belltower steps.
"Master...Mlle. Nisha...I
thought...What's going on here?", he asked confusedly.
Claude
Frollo turned to his young charge. "I am seeing this young
lady home,
Quasimodo. I will visit you tomorrow. Good night, dear
boy."
"Good night, Quasi", I echoed.
"Good night",
replied Quasimodo as he scratched his head in
puzzlement.
Outside,
Claude boosted me up into the saddle. I never rode such a
fine horse!
Claude
settled himself behind me, and, with the reins in his right
hand and his
left arm around me, guided Snowball towards the little
house Fern and I
shared.
I softly sang that old Etta James song, "At
Last,
my love has come along..."
"What are you singing, sweet
darling?", Claude chuckled in my ear.
"Oh, just a love
song that was popular when I was a child." I then grinned
and said playfully,
"I'se Min'ster Frollo's woman now."
Claude chuckled
again, his lips grazing the back of my neck, "You certainly
are, my
dear. You are finally mine, and I am yours."
He softly
sang
a sweet French love song in as we neared my Parisian home.
Claude
saw me to my door. He kissed me good-night,saying,
"Pleasant dreams,
my love". I was a little disappointed.
"Oh Claude,
I'd thought you'd come inside for a few moments."
Claude
just laughed and said, "Now, my dear, we both know we had a
very emotional
evening..." He flashed a broad smile. Oh, he has the
sexiest smile!
"All right, honey",
I said, "I'll get some rest. Will I see you tomorow?"
Claude kissed me again and playfully replied, "Oh, my dear Danisha, you'll
see me in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening,
and the next day, and the next..."
I joined in Claude's
hearty laughter and kissed him again. "This is definitely
turning into a summer to remember", I said.
We finally
said good-night and I watched him ride away.
I was
right; Claude was right. We finally found each
other.
But the summer was not over and the fireworks
were just beginning.
Copyright©1997 by FrolloFreak