The Story of Claude Cabret

Uncle Claude's Story

"The story I am about to share with you takes place in 1931, under the roofs of Paris..."* It involves my nephew Hugo Cabret and my role in his life. My name is Claude Cabret , and I know what you may be thinking...oh I remember him from the original story, Hugo's deadbeat, heavy drinking and smoking, cruel uncle. Though I may be some of these things, alas humans are complicated and cannot be summed up so easily.

As my habit after a long day of tending to the clocks in the Paris Train Station, I secured whisky for the evening. Then, I went home to my apartment within the walls of the train station. In the wee hours of the morning, there is a heavy knock on my door. I recognize it as the rapping of the Station Inspector. I hesitantly open thinking a clock must be out, but instead he tells me my brother is dead. He fell victim to a fire at the local museum. A lump instantly rose in my throat, though even we weren't particularly close I have fond memories of our childhood and he is last of my immediate family. It took me moment, but I knew what I had to next.

Tell Hugo.

On the way I refilled my flask. It was tough to tell him. My heart hurt but I want to do best for this boy. I told him he no longer has to go to school and I'll train him to be an apprentice. This way I can be sure he can support himself later, and I'm getting to old to be doing this kind of work. Also the work of horology is our family trade, and his work on clocks would make his Father proud. I may have been too gruff when I told him to pack up so suddenly, but I also had to get to the clocks. I put my hand upon his neck to reassure he'd be taken care of as I guided him to the train station. I taught him how to service clocks and to get free food (some might consider that stealing), but my funds couldn't add the new provisions needed to keep a boy full and take care of my vices.

Then, I thought of a way to finance our condition. I will go back to my brother's clock shop, to collect valuables to sell. I became obsessed with this idea, and since Hugo was available to care for the clocks I spent more and more time, collecting then selling. I spent some of this on booze and cigarettes but I also collected quite a bit of funds to support each other.

I went on my final journey to the store, to collect the money I have made and stored in secret. As I was leaving I felt someone right behind me. It was one of the people I sold clockworks and valuables too. Instead of a greeting I felt a sharp pain in my back. I tried to shake it off but then realized I was bleeding. The villain stole all my goods except for my flask. Next, I felt cold water, and my body growing heavy, as I sunk into the river.

My last thought was God bless Hugo.

May the skills I taught him serve him well.

*Opening quote from The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick