Chapter 22- The smallest of things

The beginning of May was one of Quasimodo's favourite times of the year. It was still Spring- his favourite season- but the smallest hint of summer just begins to trickle into the city. It's the first day of his favourite month. The flowers have all blossomed so they sway their delicate petals in the warm breeze, creating an array of pleasant summer scents that carry even into the Court of Miracles itself.

Quasimodo often notices how the mood in the camp lightens considerably when the day is warm, the sun is out and the flowers are fresh and full of beautiful scents that float into the camp. Everyone is more than willing to do their daily chores, even the children who are usually coming up with a variety of excuses every time they are asked.

But that cheery mood that swept through The Court of Miracles like the warm, spring breeze had evaporated. The stirring event with the bell ringer and the young woman that happened just a few days ago had created a tense and gloomy atmosphere.

The bell ringer made his way to breakfast, trying to appear calm and collective despite the glares from some as he passed them by. But with every one of these glares that were shot at him, he told himself it was all due to a simple misunderstanding. This had been going on every morning since that horrible night a few days ago.

That night, (well, in the very early hours of the morning, really) was still a blur to him. Everything had happened so quickly. And the rollercoaster of emotions that ran through him was nearly enough to drive one to insanity. But, that didn't matter to the bell ringer. All those faces glaring at him, believing from her scream that he'd hurt her somehow don't matter. The only thing that mattered to him is that Elise is alive.

"Didn't sleep very well, huh?" said Clopin as Quasimodo sat down at the long and crowded breakfast table. He smiled at Esmeralda, Clopin and Jocelyna but didn't make eye contact with them once. "Um...well, not particularly..." the bell ringer replied.

"The circles under your eyes," announced Clopin, answering Quasimodo's silent question.

Quasimodo traced the outline of his uneven eyes with his fingers and nodded in acknowledgment. True, he hadn't slept a wink in what seemed to be ages. It was unsurprising.

There was a rather uncomfortable silence. Quasimodo could tell all three, mostly Clopin, wanted to bring up the event of that night but were restraining.

"So, what's everyone have planned today, then?" enquired Esmeralda in an attempt to lift the mood, her brilliant, emerald orbs flashing to one another. This was much to Quasimodo's gratefulness since it wasn't directly addressed at him so it gave the others a chance to answer. He wasn't in a mood to talk.

"I'm out with the boys, again," replied Clopin smugly. "You know, hunting." He lifted his chin up proudly.

"Clopin, you haven't caught a single thing yet. Why they still let you come with them I will never know," retorted Jocelyna. Clopin merely muttered something about catching a rabbit before getting back to his pineapple.

Quasimodo saw Esmeralda's luminous green eyes flash towards him.

"No breakfast?" she said, glancing at the empty space on the table in front of him.

"I'm not very hungry," Quasimodo replied in his usual quiet, soft tone. He felt Jocelyna's concerned expression upon him as he tapped his thumbs together awkwardly. A plate of food would have actually been perfect at that moment, just so he could have something to distract him from those scowls that still haunted his tired mind. Instead, he just smiled and contributed to the conversation as much as he could; making sure his pain wasn't noticeable.

Once the dishes for breakfast had been cleared, and Clopin had finished convincing Esmeralda that he had in fact caught a rabbit once (complete with detailed hand gestures), Jocelyna took Rhayeder to the fountain to have a quiet word with him. Seeing his distress was just unbearable.

Three gypsy men instantly shot up from their seats on the fountain's stone edging and sauntered off upon seeing the misshapen arrival coming towards them so Jocelyna and Quasimodo were able to talk in private.

"Look," she gently spoke, sitting down with Quasimodo on the fountain's cold, stone edging. "Please...just talk to me."

This was startling to the young bell ringer. He immediately looked up, his confused eyes meeting with her soft, delicate ones. But he had to admit it; he'd cut himself off from her recently. It was understandable not to want to talk to a fellow camp resident or even a close friend about his troubles but not talking to his own mother about it seemed almost unforgivable on his part. There goes another one to add to the large pile of his emotions; guilt.

"I...I-I," he stammered, wringing his hands as he always did when he became nervous.

"Please," she said again. "You haven't been yourself ever since it happened," she gently told him. True, for the past few days, the bell ringer had confined himself to the small wagon that was his sleeping area only going out for the occasional meal or the odd walk. But even when he did go out, his speech was limited and he would never make eye contact when he spoke. Breakfast that morning was a serious improvement of how he'd been acting during the other meals. Jocelyna noted how this phase had brought the old bell ringer back; the very shy, nervous boy with incredibly low self-esteem who would cower when touched or even spoken to.

The bell ringer spoke quietly. "I...I'm sorry," he muttered timidly. "It really isn't important. I-It's just...I don't actually know why I'm feeling like this." Jocelyna's stomach tightened from the pain so evident in her son's voice. "I-I mean...why do I care?" His voice was growing stronger.

Jocelyna knew what this was really about. She knew those stares and scowls from the accusers a few nights ago wouldn't matter. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was used to being glared at.

He lowered his head. "I never even said one word to her a-and...and when we finally met..." His voice softened once again. "I terrified her." Hi voice was barely a whisper. "I knew I would scare her but...for some reason I-I thought she just m-might already know me...a-and wouldn't be... scared."

Jocelyna sighed. Feeling every ounce of her son's pain and having absolutely no idea what to say to him.

He creased his eyebrows. "I've brought this all on myself. It was my fault for making up this...this fantasy. I don't know why I acted so stupidly." He squeezed his hands into fits in frustration. "That would have never happened if I'd just listened to Daryn and left Elise alone. But instead I just had to make everything worse." His eyes gradually began to soften. "Daryn was right. Being around Elise did cause more stress to his family. I mean...just look what I've done."

She placed both her hands around Quasimodo's own and gently stroked her thumb along their rough surfaces. Like the hug of comfort she gave on the night of Elise's awakening, she hoped that simple gesture told him everything her frozen speech couldn't.

Quasimodo gently squeezed her own delicate hands as a thank you. He smiled at her, never once forgetting just how much she really did care for him.

"Talk to her," spoke the gypsy woman, looking into his teary blue-green eyes. It seemed so simple but, like an iceberg, a great, great mass lay beneath the surface of those simple words. She couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Quasimodo's absolutely petrified expression.

"Listen," she said through a chuckle as she adjusted her seating position. "It really isn't all that bad, Rhayeder. Not as bad as you think, anyway. I admit I'm not an expert at this sort of thing and it doesn't help there being not much to go on what sort of a person Elise is yet but you owe her so much. And even if she's the most heartless person on or the most wonderful, she will realise that. Already you've been pretty incredible to her and you haven't even said two words to each other. That's got to mean something. I'd be more than grateful and appreciative to the person who did for me what you did for her, no matter who that person may be."

Jocelyna did always know the right things to say to him, thought the bell ringer. The gypsy woman could tell her words were getting through to him.

"But I didn't do much," he mumbled, almost to himself.

"Right," she began in a playful tone. "So, even when they were complete strangers to you and when you hadn't even met them for two seconds you wanted to help them out. And though Daryn always belittled you, you never broke or lost the determination to do what you could to help him and save his daughter. You took the effort to actually buy the medicine yourself and judging by the label I read when I picked it up while I was clearing away Elise's blankets, it didn't look like the sort of medicine that came cheap. And when you treated Elise with the medicine in the middle of the night, you risked Daryn yelling at you or maybe even doing more to you. You risked your own wellbeing to save hers. And there was nothing for you yourself to gain for doing all this. It was all completely selfless." She smirked playfully, "yeah, you didn't do much."

Quasimodo furrowed his thick eyebrows as Jocelyna's words swam around in his head. He gave her a small nod to show he understood her words. But it was the simple, innocent smile that told Jocelyna he had decided to finally talk to Elise.

Sorry for yet another wait for a new chapter but here it finally is! :-D