A bit of explanation: This fic had to come first--or else some things in my other fic--Full Circle--wouldn't make much sense . . .
The Road Less Travelled By Rheow
From the Journals of one Kher'Bast-fferaine, also known as the Abyssinian cat Katrinn Bast'Korat . . .
During my stay with the group of cats known as the Jellicles, I was particularly curious about the enmity that burned between them and the crime lord called Macavity. To hear every other cat tell it, Macavity was guilty of everything from kitten-napping to grand theft, had participated in every crime from vandalism to murder most foul--there's no smoke without fire, they always said. So I set about to glen the nuggets of truth from the debris. The most reliable source was Old Deuteronomy, and the tale he told me was a tragic one.
"It was one of my saddest memories and a great tragedy for the tribe," Old Deuteronomy told me. He had not been born bad, but came into this world as one of my grandchildren. We raised him well, but fate had conspired to lead him down a darker path. And to think it had all began in spring, a time of hope . . ."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part One: Spring
It was a fine day, the kind that smelt like spring but was warm like summer--for it was a time just in betwixt the two seasons. In the Junkyard, kittens played under the watchful eyes of their elders while the young adults lazed about in their own little cliques.
One particular group of young toms basked atop the hood of an old car, surveying the yard with half-lidded eyes. They were strong and certainly fine to look at as quite a few queens would attest to, each filled with the pride and vitality that went with their age. And they were talking about a certain subject that had came up more and more frequently in their conversations.
The tom currently carrying the conversation was a handsome black and white specimen called Zerehmir. "Oh yes, she's all right to look at, but--"
"All right? All right? You must be blind!" protested his companion, a white and orange tom who went by the name Nickolas.
"Oh no, it's Nic who's blind!" teased Cateract the tabby-stripped grey. "Blinded by love!"
"Ah, yes . . . What say you, Macavity?" asked Zerehmir
The ginger tom with white chest fur looked up from his private thoughts and gave a swift smile. "Undoubtedly Nic has fallen for the fair Belinda--see how he hisses at us when we make our point. He is guilty, my friends, guilty!"
"Hah, speak for yourself, Mac!" Nic retorted. "You're gone over the lovely Amberene!"
"Amberene! Never was there such a fine flower to grace this haven known as the Junkyard," said Zerehmir, who could get lyrical if he chose.
"There is the object of your affections!" Cateract nodded towards the knot of young queens who were also enjoying the sun on some old crates.
The most beautiful of the young queens was currently laughing merrily to something her friends had said. Slim of limb and bright of eye, Amberene the tortoiseshell queen was a sight to amaze the most jaded of eyes. Her reddish-brown and yellow markings were bold without making her appear clownish and her tail was long and straight. Those light topaz eyes sparkled with life and many a tom had found himself smitten after just one look.
"You should make the first move--the queens have this idea that we're suppose to do such things," urged Zerehmir.
Amberene laughed her gentle, musical laugh. Belinda was the picture of feline embarrassment and Vesta was openly grinning.
"N-no, that isn't true," said the white queen as she saw her friend's knowing winks.
"Oh come on, 'Lind," cajoled Avaleen, her green-and-olive eyes sparkling with mischief. "You can tell us everything. We are your best friends after all . . ."
"And I am telling you for the hundredth time that there is nothing between Nickolas and me! We've never even been alone for a second!"
"We should arrange something then!" Vesta the sandy-coated queen teased with a wicked smile.
"I've had it up to here with your gossip!" Belinda was really angry now and she stood up, tail lashing from side to side and her eyes were like a pair of fierce coals. So agitated was she that her companions did not know what to do.
All but Amberene, that is. The tortoiseshell queen got up too and said, "We were only having a bit of fun. Don't take it to heart, Belinda dear." Her manner was so soft and the look she gave was so imploring that Belinda felt abashed and sat down again.
"Like we said, we're all friends here," said Amberene approvingly after she had given the white queen a quick nuzzle. "Let's talk about some one else's love-life then--it's only fair . . ."
"Then it's your turn, Amber!" crowed Vesta.
"Yes, it's only fair," added Ava slyly.
Amberene gave Zerehmir's littermate a tolerant look. "I have no love-life to speak of."
"But every tom fancies you!" cried the others.
"But I'm only one queen. If I have so many suitors, then I should be able to choose my mate easily!"
"Love is suppose to just happen," said Belinda, quoting one of the older queens. "I wonder when will it hit you? It would be something to watch!"
"I know that Macavity looks at you *really* intensely," Ava interjected.
"And he's smart, strong . . ."
"Good-looking in a wild way," Vesta added.
"I heard Old Deuteronomy's considering him for the post of the next Jellicle Leader!"
Amberene looked thoughtful as she considered this. "Well, I don't know . . ."
"Amberene!"
A lightly stripped queen had popped her head out of the old oven and was calling her name.
"Jellylorum? Oh no, I'm late--I have to go baby-sit today!" The young queen got up and said her hasty goodbyes to her friends before going off. "I'm coming, Jelly! I haven't forgotten!"
"We should set them up," Vesta said to the others when Amberene was out of hearing range.
"Oooh, that'll be fun . . ."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Innocent fun . . . some things never change.
"Just before that time," Old D. was saying to me, "my family had expanded again. Munkustrap was one of the kittens of my line and he was the sole survivor of his litter."
"I always wondered about that. Who was his sire and dam?"
"His father was my son, and his mother was Julianna, Grizabella's child." He smiled sadly. "Grizabella--wherever she may be now--was always adventurous. A bit of a wanderer like yourself . . ."
I hope this wasn't another one of those 'settle-down' talks.
"She left the tribe and left her kittens to us sometime later. Julianna grew up to be one of the most lovely queens in her generation--but unlike her mother, she was a sensible, down-to-earth sort who didn't seem inclined to flirt. My son was quite taken by her--and vice versa. They might have lived happily enough, but that really wasn't meant to be, I'm afraid."
Ah, the plot thickens . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the shelter of an old crate, a grey tabby queen lay nursing her kitten. Old Deuteronomy was inspecting her offspring carefully.
"Munkustrap, eh? A fine looking kitten, indeed."
"He's a strong one--like his father." The queen looked up quickly to see how her remark had affected the old tom. A flicker of something--regret?--passed over the Leader's face and he shrugged fatalistically.
"It wasn't to be, Julianna--he will be missed, but I have given up hope that we might ever see him again the day his humans took him with them overseas. He is exploring a new world now and I wish him all the best."
"I hope he finds another queen and settles down," the queen known as Julianna said wistfully.
"I know my son well enough and you will always be first in his heart," Old Deuteronomy assured her. "It is good of you to think so kindly of him."
"I only wish that Cateract would feel the same," she sighed.
"I was planning to speak him myself--after he has seen his brother, of course. My hearing might be going, but I think that's him coming now."
The young tom poked his head in a moment later, saw Old Deuteronomy and mumbled something about coming back another time.
"No, no--your mother wants you. I shall be going," said the venerable cat and departed, leaving the family together alone.
"Ma, how are you?" asked Cateract in concern.
"I'm fine now, son. Come see your brother, Munkustrap."
The elder sibling looked out of his depth as he sniffed this new addition to his family. "Errm, hello . . . Does he hear me?"
"Of course! Munku, that's your brother Cateract."
"'Ateract?" the kitten gurgled, looking up at his brother curiously.
"Isn't he the splitting image of--" Julianna stopped when her son's expression turned stormy. "Cateract, must you put on that face whenever I speak of your father?"
"He just left us!" the youngster replied hotly. "He shouldn't have--what with you pregnant at that time--"
"I told you time and time again that it wasn't his fault," she said sternly. "His humans had chosen to take him with them--there was nothing he could have done to run away . . ."
"He should have tried!" Her eldest son had been in that stage that might be called adolescence when her mate had been taken away. The Jellicles were a close-knit tribe and unlike other cats, the toms had responsibilities to their offspring. Somehow, he could not help but feel resentment against his father for the perceived abandonment. Having his siblings adopted by humans and not coming back to visit certainly didn't help. Julianna hoped that he would grow out of it soon.
"It was not as if he didn't!" Julianna remembered her mate's love and strength, how he had always told her that she would be first in his heart--just like Old Deuteronomy said--and felt the old sorrow rise up like a tidal wave. "Old Deuteronomy wants a word with you after this," she said stiffly, trying to hold back the grief. Cateract would surely misunderstand, thinking that she too was wounded by his father's absence. Oh, she *was*, but not in the way he thought. "I had hoped to get a more positive response out of you, but I seem to have failed."
Cateract scowled. She knew how he hated it when she got all formal like that--but the situation couldn't get any worse. Unless he quibbled with Old Deuteronomy later. Julianna hoped that he wouldn't dare to.
"Don't look like that before Old Deuteronomy, please." She tried to smile and leaned over to wash his face.
"Ma!" With adulthood also came the pride that forbade such displays of affection. She went on anyhow, until he wiggled away from her, much to the amusement of his younger brother.
"What's he laughing at?" Cateract asked grumpily, but not resentfully as before.
"At you! Fancy being scared of a wash!"
"Well, he'll grow up too, Ma."
"That's why I wash him--and you--whenever I can. Run along, mustn't keep Old Deuteronomy waiting, you know."
Watching her son go, Julianna smiled sadly. She would not have any more children unless she chose a new mate or had a fling while in heat. But her mate filled her heart and she had felt no compunction to pick any of the toms who were willing to take his place.
If her instincts were right, Munkstrap was likely be her last child. His sister had died of the wasting illness but he had been too young to understand--for which she was glad. It would be hard enough to grow up without a father, as Cateract was a living example of.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Amberene, by the wiles of her friends, found herself walking in the park with Macavity that Saturday. He was polite and good-natured, she admitted to herself shyly--and so witty too at times.
From there, they progressed to a great many dinner appointments and watching the pantomimes at the theatre where Gus lived. Amber slowly felt her affection growing after the walks through town and jaunts over the rooftops as spring matured into summer.
And her friends ragged her like anything about it.
"Amber, you lucky cat!"
"You two look so cute together!"
"Hey, there's my brother--Mir! Mir, tell Amber how many times a day Macavity thinks of her," Ava cried.
The black tom with white paws came up to the group of queens and executed an elegant leg before saying, "My friend is very much taken with you. In fact, he asked me to compose some verses in praise of you--"
"He most certainly did not!" Amberene protested but Zerehmir had gone on.
"Eyes like banked fires, fur like silk--a light in the darkness, such is fair Amberene to me--"
"Stop it!" If cats could blush, the tortoiseshell queen would've been going red under that knowing green gaze.
But her heart seemed be fluttering and she did not know if it was because of the outrageous verses or because she might have seen something more in Zerehmir's admiring eyes.
Later that evening, she did approach the tom hesitantly. "Zerehmir, did he really say all that to you?"
"Ha-ha, not in so many words!" The tom seemed to rather embarrassed. "It was my own initiative, helping a friend out and all that because he's rather shy . . . He really loves you."
"Yes, I can tell, but I'm so unsure . . ."
"What do you mean?" Zerehmir seemed genuinely surprised.
"Did you mean it then? When you made up those verses?" Amberene persisted.
Zerehmir was certainly quick-witted enough to see where this was leading. "Oh no! I will not stand in the way of a friend. I might be admiring you--as every tom does from time to time--but I would never presume to steal you away--"
"Zerehmir, you are a good friend indeed," Amberene said, outwardly calm but her thoughts were in turmoil as she left.
She knew Macavity's love--so evident every time she looked into his eyes--but she had sensed the passion in the poet too. Macavity and Zerehmir--both upright, handsome Jellicles that any queen would have been proud to claim as mates. Why had she been confronted by this choice? It had been so sudden--like lightning--when the black and white tom had put love into his words that fateful afternoon. And her path--so straight and clear before--branched into two diverging roads. She had been confused at first, but realised the second bloom of love soon enough to her dismay.
How could she fall for two toms at once? They had been her childhood friends, but recently, they had changed somehow into something more.
Torn, the young queen retired to her human's house and spent a fitful night trying to reconcile her feelings--but to no avail.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For Macavity, he could have been the world's happiest cat--love had planted its golden-headed arrow in his heart and he was willingly in thrall.
It was a cheerful--at least to him--morning when he visited the Junkyard, having stopped by at Old Deuteronomy's earlier to pay his respects to his grandfather.
"Macavity, you certainly look well!" exclaimed Jellylorum from where she was herding her young charges for their morning exercise.
"Morning, marm, you're in a fine fettle yourself. Need a paw with the young 'uns?"
"It's decent of you to offer," Jelly remarked as the kittens cheered at the prospect of a new victim.
"Piggy-back!" a black and white kitten--an adopted stray--cried out and he was echoed by his fellows.
So piggy-back it was and that was how Cateract found his friend--one kitten riding on his back and some others nipping at his tail.
"Mac--don't you look a sight!" crowed the tabby grey.
"More piggy-back!" demanded a patchy tom, obviously reasoning that two backs were better than one.
"Why don't you join in, Cateract?" Jelly asked craftily. "Oh, and you brought your brother out, I see."
"Munku, go on--make friends," Cateract urged.
"Play piggy-back?" asked his younger sibling, rather indistinctly because he was holding his brother's tail in his jaws.
Cateract finally gave in to the pleas of single-minded kittens. "All right, I'll give you a ride!"
For Munkustrap, that morning was only the beginning of the best times of his life. After a shy start, he got to know Alonzo the black and white kit, Tumblebrutus--the one who had demanded that Cateract play with them--and Tugger, rather arrogant but always willing to play.
After wearing out the novelty of piggy-back, the kittens played madcap rounds of Tag amidst the piles of junk, squealing and laughing all at once.
To one side, Macavity and Cateract watched, perhaps remembering their own kittenhood--not very long ago, all things considered.
"Mornin', Macavity, Cateract--and regards to your dam, hope she's feeling better," said a sleekly muscled cat who had came up behind them silently.
"Rumpus Cat! My mother's getting better now," replied Cateract. "How goes your patrol?"
"Any Pollicles lurking hereabouts?"
"None--but if there are, I know just the toms ta help me chase their scrawny tails," said the older cat good-naturedly. "Now how are my fine young bravos these days? I heard someone's chasing a pretty queen!"
"He is!" Cateract told the Rumpus Cat as Macavity looked down modestly. "So much so that he's walking two paws off the ground these days!"
Muttering something about needing to see to something else, Macavity hurried away.
"He doesn't like to show his feelings much," Cateract explained. "Say, did you see my younger brother yet?" And then he was showing off Munkustrap with no small amount of brotherly pride.
Off in a quieter corner of the Junkyard, Macavity came across Avaleen sunning herself--without her normal clique today.
"Hullo, Ava. Is your brother here today?"
"Mir? Oh, he'll be around," Ava said languidly.
"Amberene?"
"No, I haven't seen her. I don't think she came into the junkyard today . . ."
As the ginger tom headed out of the junkyard, Avaleen watched him. She was troubled--there had been that dream just last night . . .
A dream of danger and death. A dream where Macavity had loomed up like a shadow, filling her with unnameable dread.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Macavity went back to his humans' home for he knew their schedules well and it had became a custom of his to be there to greet them when they came back from whatever it was that they were doing.
He was punctual enough to catch the younger humans coming back in, noisy and rowdy as usual but always willing to return his greetings.
"Isn't Colin great? He's always knows when we come back," the male young human said as he scratched between the ginger tom's ears.
Macavity, enjoying his due, did not mind the name the humans gave him. After all, he had given them his own names.
The older female human kit laughed--a familiar, cheery sound. Later, when they had their pieces of paper and books spread out all over the kitchen table, he would go and sprawl right on top of them until they shooed him off or finally surrendered and gave him their attention. It rained that afternoon, so they hadn't the heart to shoo him away and he made himself comfortable in their laps.
After his humans' parents came back home, Macavity got his dinner and went out into the damp garden at dusk for exercise. There might be small rodents in the tangled undergrowth at the edge of the property.
Macavity thought it he smelt rat and his hunt instincts came into play as he stalked towards the storm drain that marked the end of what he thought as *his* property.
There were rats and he flushed them out of hiding. They scattered willy-nilly all over the place and ran for it. They did not enter the storm drain--it was flooded from the afternoon's rain--but Macavity managed to corner one of them. He pounced. It leapt.
He missed it--but as it turned out, the rat had not been lucky.
It was squeaking as it frantically clawed for a foothold above the storm drain. It seemed determined to survive.
In a moment of unusual empathy, Macavity reached out a paw and flipped the struggling rodent up onto the concrete top of the drain. It squeaked in surprise--and fled.
Of course it would be silly of him to expect any gratitude. Macavity continued on his usual prowl of his territory.
And he did not think much over the matter after that.
When Munkustrap had been old enough and strong enough to go out and play with his brother, Julianna watched them go with mixed feelings. She had known a moment's maternal anxiety but she knew it had to be so. Kittens had to grow up.
Another part of her was relieved. It meant that she could continue with her search.
Julianna climbed out of the old oven and stretched thoroughly before making her way out of the yard, taking the routes that she knew so well.
She was headed towards something of a no-cats-land. The buildings were old and dilapidated but there was human activity in the scaffolding and heavy vehicles that reeked of dust and oil. It was dangerous for a cat if one did not know what dangers to watch out for.
No other cat would understand her forays into inhospitable territory. But then, not everyone had Grizabella the Glamour Cat as their mother.
The memory was still so clear--the day when her mother had left her and Julian in Jellylorum's care at the gates of the junkyard . . . and left.
It had not been so bad at first--but then the others knew who she was and how they had been abandoned. The whispers, the sidelong looks--she saw them all for she was especially sensitive to the moods and temperaments of those around her. It had not been so bad--until Julian left.
Julian--her brother, her mainstay throughout her childhood. They might have been true twins for the closeness they shared. The other cats said he had his mother's wandering feet. But she knew better--Julian was on the same quest as she was.
A quest that brought her to the rubbish heaps outside a construction site, where a small community of cats foraged daily. Some of those cats were practically feral, others merely old and tired like Pherya.
Pherya was a fade tortoiseshell, often neurotic and nervous. She had not got over certain events involving the stray-catchers and ran at the sight of any human. She was also a cat who had known Grizabella. Julianna had found her early in her search because Pherya had, in a moment of lucidity, recognised Grizabella's features on Julianna and called out her mother's name. Now it was almost two months since she had seen the old queen and she wondered if Pherya still remembered her.
"Ju-Julianna?" a querulous voice called out from a sheltering pipe to one corner of the rubbish heap.
"Yes, Pherya, It's just me." Julianna took care to sit some distance away--there was no telling what mood Pherya was in at that moment. But today, she seemed to be more sure of herself and crept out to exchange greetings with the grey tabby queen.
"Eh, Julie--you've had kits." Apparently the older queen could still rely on her sense of smell.
"Yes." She had told the old queen two months ago, but Pherya's memory was not what it used to be.
"How's your mate?"
"His humans took him away," Julianna said politely.
The old queen was silent for a moment and Julianna feared that there might be another one of those outbursts of pity she received whenever the news got out.
"Eh, that's life--always leaving you holding the kittens . . ."
Julianna reminded herself that not all cats were like Jellicles who mated for life.
"You still searching?" The question came out of the blue and shook the grey tabby out her private thoughts.
"Er--yes," Julianna replied. Her search had not been as vigorous as before after she had found her mate. More so with the first litter and then the second.
"Still nothing, eh?" Pherya shook her head. "Tis hard, finding a cat who don't want to be found . . ."
"Why wouldn't she want to be found?" The question came out harsher than she had meant it to be. Pherya just looked at her calmly and Julianna subsided.
Of course, Grizabella the Glamour Cat did not have a good reputation. Among the Jellicles, no one would speak of her. Though the older queens sometimes would when they thought Julianna was not listening. And could she face the kittens she had left behind? There was her, Julianna, Julian--now gone--and Derrelldare--the older brother neither of them had ever seen.
"H-have you heard anything?" Julianna had asked Pherya to keep an ear to the ground in case Grizabella happened by that area.
"No, dearie--I'm sorry, I wish I could help you more," Pherya said apologetically.
After exchanging a bit more news about each other's lives, Julianna had to go back to the junkyard for her turn at kitten-sitting.
"You'll come back?" Pherya asked.
And Julianna knew how lonely it was for the old queen in the past few months. She had came to look forwards to the tabby queen's visits.
"I'll come back."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Just another day in the junkyard . . . kittens playing, cats sunning . . .
Macavity and Amberene were having a quite moment on top of the old washing machine when Cateract dashed in, looking frantic.
"Has anyone seen Munkustrap?" he asked to the junkyard at large.
"No . . . whatever happened?" Jellylorum asked worriedly from her pipe.
"He was pestering me to bring him along with him when I went out--s-so I did," the grey tabby said. "Only for a short walk . . . but I was checking out a dustbin behind that restaurant on the next street and then when I turned around, he was gone!"
"Did you look for him?"
"'Course I did! But he wasn't anywhere! What'll I tell Ma? I just *happened* to lose my little brother?" Cateract looked like he was getting close to hysteria.
"Come on, we'll go out and find him," Macavity said. "Amber--"
"I'll keep everyone informed--you go help Cateract," the queen said understandingly.
Cateract and Macavity rounded up their friends, Nic and Mir to help with the search. A few of the older cats who were not kitten-sitting also joined in.
They searched the streets around the junkyard and Macavity hoped that they would find the kitten soon--the air was heavy with the scent of an impending storm.
Macavity was considering going to find perhaps the Rumpus Cat to help them when Cateract came running around the corner and into the alley that he was searching.
"Zerehmir and Avaleen--they've found him," Cateract said breathlessly as he halted before the ginger cat. "And the little blighter's all right--"
"Good--"
"Dreadfully sorry to put you to so much trouble, Mac," the grey tabby said apologetically.
"No matter. I'll be going back to my humans now--they normally expect me back around this time."
"Good idea . . ." Cateract too had smelt the coming storm.
Macavity knew that there was short cut from the street he was on to his home. He did not use it often as Pollicles tended to roam around there and with them came the stray-catchers.
He was barely halfway up the deserted street when he heard barking. And the mewing--like that of a young cat in distress.
The next thing he knew, a smoky-violet queen shot across his path, closely followed by a barking Pollicle.
Without pausing to think, Macavity joined in the chase.
The kit had a good lead but the Pollicle could catch her if she did not have the sense to run into some drain. Macavity racked his brains, trying to find a way to save her.
The queen ran into a dead-end alley bracketed by abandoned flats. Macavity embarked upon a rash plan. He leapt, clearing the Pollicle in front of him, snatched the violet kitten by the scruff and sprang upwards--
Even with the weight of the kitten, Macavity was a strong cat and one of the best at vertical leaps. He made it to the rickety second-storey fire-escape--just barely and scrabbled up to safety.
The Pollicle below skidded to a halt and looked about in bewilderment at the disappearance of the cat it had been chasing.
And then there was a rumble of thunder and the first drops of rain began to fall.
"Oh no--we need shelter now," Macavity said after he had caught his breath.
"My home is nearby," said the kitten who had recovered fairly quickly from her near escape. "Come back with me--my father would thank you for saving me . . ."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
How Macavity had came to know the gang of cats that was now his own tribe was a little unclear from the view of the Jellicle Cats. But there were those who had witnessed his arrival and could still remember . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Griddlebone's Narrative
It was my third month in Mathernon's gang when *he* came.
That night was a wild one. Having scented the approaching storm, most of Mather's cronies had gathered in the old house that served as his headquarters. They lounged about on the old pillows, enjoying a touch of catnip or some of the boss' beer stock.
I hung around the fringes of the festivities, more than a bit worn out by the day's work. Chasing after that Estelle was *not* what I had expected when I first joined Mather's gang as a runaway stray. But I hadn't seen the girl since dinner and I was getting worried--mainly about my own tail if Mather found out that I was slacking off.
There was a sudden fuss at the door and most cats turned to have a look. It was Estelle--and with her was this big ginger tom. By the way she was looking at him, I could tell where this was leading already.
"Wot's this then?" asked Mather, the brawny leader, from his couch of cushions. "Estelle, you've been in trouble again?"
"Dad! I got chased by this mean dog--but Macavity saved me!" cried Mathernon's only daughter as she flung herself onto her parent. "Macavity, come meet my father!"
The young tom greeted the older tom politely enough but there was no bowing and scrapping like some other cats might have done. Perhaps this new cat did not know what sort of company he had fallen into . . . But there was a natural pride about this one and myself being intrigued, I inched closer.
"You have done me a great favour," Mathernon said grandiosely. "My young daughter is dear to me, so I shall grant you a boon."
"I have no need of boons," said this ginger tom Macavity with a slight bow.
"What, cat? No need of help?" Mather was eyeing the newcomer in that shrewd way of his. "Very well then, this boon is yours to claim whenever you choose--take your time. Why not join my humble celebrations tonight?"
"You are most generous and I do not wish to impose on your hospitality--but the rain is troublesome. May I just have a corner to wait out the storm?"
"What? No catnip or kippers? You are a most hard to please guest--Griddlebone, find a spot for our friend here and see that he has proper refreshments if he changes his mind."
Oh, Mather was a good host, especially when he had other cats to run around for him. "There's a window seat unoccupied," I said. "This way please."
Our guest had no sooner thanked me for showing him the quiet seat when Estelle leapt up next to him began chatting. Wisely, I retreated to the kitchen where a few of Mather's gang who were more like house staff were.
"Eh, Griddlebone, them toms give you any lip?" asked Starkey or Old Gaffer as the others called him.
"No, Gaffer--I can take care of myself." I settled on the worn-out seat-cushions by the stove and groomed out a few tangled spots. I longed for my brush to straighten out my white fur--being long-haired was no picnic when you had to do odd jobs at odd hours.
"If yore tired, then I kin cover for you," Loriallele offered.
Lori, mother to a few litters of kittens, was also mother to us all. I shook my head wearily. "I have to be on my toes--Estelle sneaked out again. And you'd never guess who she brought back."
"Do tell, dearie!"
"A ginger tom who saved her from a dog--she's smitten with him already," I reported.
"Griddlebone!" A tom stuck his head into the kitchen. "Mather sez we're outta catnip--stir yore lazy tail and bring some more!"
"All right, Lockely," I muttered to myself as I got up. "Keep your mangy tail on."
After going to the basement stores to get the catnip, I had to do the washing up. I hate washing up--it's a punishment, I suppose for letting Estelle out of my sight.
At the end of that slogging, I had the honour of tidying the main room after the celebrations were over and the cats were snoozing peacefully.
Swearing under my breath, I batted the chewed catnip toys to where Gaffer waited with the rubbish bag. And there were the spills--most efficient way to clean them was to have supper at the same time.
"Griddlebone," Mather said softly from his couch. I started and looked up from the bit of sardine I was going to polish off. He was not asleep--probably had been watching me all along.
Composing myself, I approached him slowly, not showing fear or open defiance. "Yes, sir?"
"Griddlebone, I know you want to prove your true potential . . ." When I did not show my eagerness, he went on. "So I'm going to give you a mission--follow that tom when he leaves and find out where he hails from and what his intentions are."
Worried about Estelle was he? "Consider it done, sir," I replied and looked towards the windowseat where the subject of our discussions sat.
This was my chance surely! As one of the new members of the group and a queen at that, Mather had never considered me for anything. Or rather Lockely and Arfehul--Mather's sons--didn't even test my skill at thievery. And I've seen the looks that Lockely's been giving me--if I didn't make any headway into the organisation, I was going to run away again.
The rain slackened off and Mather's guest took his leave. I could see that that tom didn't like to stay--he wasn't stupid and any cat could tell what we--they--were. (You think yourself apart, don't you, Griddlebone?) I smelled human and other cats on him even through the rainwater--quite a well-filled out cat and polite enough not to say how he didn't like the company. Estelle didn't have a chance--a queen can tell these things.
He was looking into space when she was babbling, something else on his mind for sure. Good-looking cat like that would have some queens wanting him . . . perhaps he already had a mate.
After speculating fruitlessly, I set off on my little mission. My experience on the street was limited, but I always relied on my wits to see me through. This shadowing was not a problem--a cat can be invisible if she puts her mind to it, as I learned earlier on.
Macavity the ginger tom led me on a long walk out of Mather's territory and to an area frequented by a great many cats. There was this large junkyard and it seemed that was mistaken about his status--no, he emerged again and went on his way again. So I had to follow.
He had a human (or some humans) apparently. They lived in a nice-looking two-storey with a neat lawn and garden. Sniffing about the premises didn't yield much and I wasn't a thief or a true spy, to go sneaking through the cat-flap and into the house.
This was not going my way at all . . .
The junkyard--a vague hope, but still *something*.
Back at those gates, I paused to think. Was I desperate enough to do this? I shoved aside my distaste for this task--those emotions belonged to a different cat--and approached a puddle.
Ugh. I looked like drowned rat after my muddy roll--dirty but definitely pitiful. Tail down and affecting a slow dragging walk, I brushed against the fence and crept into the junkyard. I was prepared to run for it should there be any unfriendly cats or dogs but the first being I came across did not chase me out.
"Who goes there?" demanded the tom gruffly. He was large and most definitely a fighter, so I didn't have to pretend to be scared.
"Eh, a queen? What are you doin' here" he asked, this time a tad more gently.
"I'm l-lost," I bleated.
By that time, the other inhabitants had stirred and looked out from their various nooks and crannies.
"Oh you poor thing," said a light cream-coloured queen from her home in a large pipe. "You look like you need a good cleaning . . ."
And they did do a very good job of grooming too. The cream-coloured queen was Jellylorum and her friends were all matronly types with kittens. The big grey cat I had seen first when on his way again--he was some sort of protector the junkyard and he always kept an eye on things.
All this I took in carefully.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next morning when Amberene came into the junkyard, she was in time to observe the departure of a white Chinchilla Persian queen--escorted by any number of young toms.
"Whatever happened?" she asked her circle of friends.
"Oh, some cat got lost and stranded in the rain--they're all falling over themselves to see her home," Vesta said, clearly glad that the newcomer had left. "She's from the posh part of town--goodness knows what she was doing around here . . ."
"I could make a few guesses," Belinda said cattily. She had not been pleased by the way the toms had looked at that queen even though she had protested her singlehood ever so often.
"I think she was just lost," Avaleen said. "After all she's gone now, right?"
Amberene looked up at that moment and brightened noticeably. "There's Macavity now . . . see you later," she said before going off.
"There goes a happy queen," Vesta said wistfully.
Avaleen looked after her friend, worried. The dreams had been coming with greater frequency and in each one of them, her sense of dread grew stronger. She feared for Amberene whom she had known since kittenhood. She feared for Macavity and what those dreams might mean. She feared for the entire Jellicle tribe.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was easy to lie. Especially when the lies had been the truth once. There had been a cat who had lived up that street in the big fancy house. Her humans had called her Lady Lillian and planned to show her off at cat shows. Lily didn't like that. Lily ran away.
I turned around after all those toms had left at last and went back to Mathernon's place. Very few cats were up that morning as I picked my way around the sleeping cats to where the leader sat folded in his accustomed meditation position.
The burly tom opened one eye. "Well?"
"He's from a tribe of cats living in the junkyard by the Russell Hotel--the Jellicles."
"Jellicles . . . Old Deuteronomy's tribe?" Mather asked shrewdly.
"Yes."
"Ah . . . then we have nothing to worry about then . . ."
For some strange reason, I almost wanted to say something about not underestimating that one, but I reined in my tongue and left it at that.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Avaleen was a cat who was rapidly becoming more and nervous by the day.
She saw how her brother looked at Amberene and she worried constantly.
But that was nothing compared to the worry she felt when she saw Mir sitting with Amber in the sun one day and when they parted company, he certainly did not act very much like just a friend as they brushed whiskers.
Ava decided to clear it up as quickly as possible. It was probably just her imagination acting up or paranoia--but when she approached the tortoiseshell queen, the guilty look on her face gave it all away.
"You-you and *my brother* . . ." she choked out. "So I wasn't imagining it . . ."
"Oh Ava . . ." She looked so helpless then that Ava instinctively wanted offer her a shoulder to cry on. "I'm such a mess--I can't even decide properly! Macavity . . . Zerehmir--I never knew one could feel like this about *two* cats! And I feel terrible--it's like I'm leading the both of them on!"
The black and white queen was at a loss for words. She started to licked Amber's face hesitantly. "Will you d-decide?"
Amber looked up, obviously torn. "I have to--one of these days, I'll *have* to . . ."
And that meant breaking one heart, even Ava knew that much.
"Will you tell, Ava? He's your brother after all . . ."
"I won't . . ." Ava said slowly. "Just . . . if you should choose--just be gentle with him . . ."
Who she meant was not really clear.
From the Journals of one Kher'Bast-fferaine, also known as the Abyssinian cat Katrinn Bast'Korat . . .
A strange tale, that only becomes stranger . . . twists upon twist and coil upon coil. Certain cats were walking an ill-starred path unknowingly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part Three: Fate and Circumstance
Midnight. The clocks chimed the hour.
There were two cats, padding down the sidewalk illuminated by the street lamps. Amberene had asked Zerehmir to walk with her. The tom thought she looked distracted and waited for her to speak.
"I have to choose," the queen began as they turned the corner of the street.
Zerehmir looked up. "Between us?"
"You know I would honour your wishes . . ." he said at last.
"Oh, Mir, I'm sorry--"
In the course of their discussion, they had strayed away from familiar territory. And as luck would have had it, they had wandered across the path of a small gang of Pollicles rooting about in the dustbins of a construction site.
"Oh--damn--run!"
It was a breathless chase through the streets and it was sheer luck that they found that warehouse with its shutters not completely rolled down. The gap at the bottom was just large enough for a cat to squeeze through.
And squeeze through they did--just as the Pollicles caught up and started worrying at the gap. They were all too large to fit.
Zerehmir looked around at the stacks of human goods around them and sighed. "Oh Everlasting Cat--what a night! We should be safe here--"
But Zerehmir had spoken too soon. There were two large toms in the warehouse and they were looking decidedly cross at the sight of the newcomers.
They were Lockely and Arfehul--Mathernon's sons checking out territory that they were intending to claim. But Amberene and Zerehmir did not know that--the other two cats just looked extremely hostile.
"Get lost--this is our property!" one of the toms said loudly.
"Or stay a while and play?" The other was looking at Amberene speculatively.
The Pollicles were still outside. If this was the time, Mir might have quoted that human saying--something about rocks and hard places.
"Amber, go now!" Zerehmir hissed as he bristled at the other two toms. "Find another way out of here--I'll hold them off--"
With an anguished look, the queen turned and ran through the many stacks of crates at his insistence. Mir backed towards the direction that she had fled to, hissing protectively.
Zerehmir might be one of the more passive cats in the junkyard, but he was no slouch when it came to fighting--especially when he was protecting someone he cared for.
The brown and yellow tom struck first and Mir lashed back, scoring a vicious scratch.
"You'll pay for that!" the tom hissed and leapt at him. They went down in a tangled heap--biting, scratching and yowling. It might have been a far fight, but the other tom jumped in and Mir was getting the worst of it. He thought to disengage and flee with Amberene, but the lights suddenly came on and a tall figure came storming up the aisle.
It was a human--an angry one at that.
"Stupid cats!" the human yelled as he stamped about, scattering the knot of fighting cats. Lockely and Arfehul fled, for even they knew that some humans were bad news.
But Zerehmir's hind leg had been injured and he discovered that he could only limp. He tried to stagger away but the human was faster and brought an empty crate down over him. Mir hissed and spat his defiance as the crate slammed down.
"Shut up!" the man snarled and kicked the crate.
Some humans did not even bother to call the stray-catchers--Zerehmir had a feeling that this human fitted into that category. He was proven correct when the crate was suddenly upended and he fell into the musty darkness of a large sack.
He was being carried some distance--and then he scented dankness and heard the sound of water rushing by--
The sack was lifted and hurled. The tom squalled in pure terror as the sack hit the cold rushing waters of a drainage canal and was borne away by the torrent. Tossed about like so much flotsam, Mir yelled and tore helplessly at the sacking. There was an awful instant when he sensed that he was suspended in mid-air and then he was plummeting down, down, down . . .
The sack hit the waters of the river with a sodden smack and proceeded to sink.
Choking and thrashing, Mir knew what fear truly was as the cold water rose around him. The world was reduced to a black, airless void where survival instinct was pitted futilely against the inevitable black tide.
But perhaps the Everlasting Cat was listening to his screams that night. The sack heaved up and the cat felt himself crash into something with a bone-jarring thud.
A wave had thrown the sack he was in against some hard surface. And it continued to do so until the tom exerted all his flagging strength and found his footing at last. He had caught the scent of the wharves--which meant land.
After an eternity of struggling, the sack was no longer subject to the chilly grip of the waves and Mir felt solid ground under him.
With a cat's strong natural aversion to enclosed spaces, Zerehmir fought his way out of the sack, the fight ebbing from his body as he glanced wearily at his surrounds. He had washed up on a sloping concrete surface where the humans put their boats.
What an evening . . . A chase, a fight, nearly drowned--how many lives had he lost? But that really did not matter now, Zerehmire realised as he lay there, panting and wounded. He had known what she was going to say. She had chosen . . .
Hearing a faint rustle, Mir looked up--and saw the hundreds of beady eyes that were peering at him from the surrounding darkness.
Wharf rats. He had forgotten about them. Big as a cat and fierce. And hungry. They could tell that he was injured . . .
He closed his eyes and let the darkness come in.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the junkyard, Avaleen jerked wake, driven from sleep by sheer, unadulterated terror.
"Mir!"
She had a horrible dream--Mir was all alone and death was closing in on him . . .
"Ava?" Jellylorum poked her head into the box where the black and white queen was resting in. "You were yelling . . ."
"A bad dream, Jelly," Ava gasped out.
"Well, all right then . . ." And the cream-coloured queen left her to mull over her dream.
It had been so real . . .
"Help!"
As highly-strung as she was, Ava jumped up at the shout and almost collided with Amberene as the tortoiseshell queen came charging in.
"Oh! Ava! Your brother--I think he got into a fight!"
Within moments, the junkyard was roused. Between Avaleen's hysterical insistence that her brother was in trouble and Amberene's narrative, Cateract, acting in his grandfather's stead, led his searchers on an expedition to find the missing Jellicle. Amberene led them to where site where they had been chased and then to the warehouse where they had encountered the other two toms and the human.
Zerehmir was no where to be found. Ava looked like she was walking in a trance as they hunted high and low for the missing tom.
If any one was near enough to hear, they would have heard her murmuring, "He's dead . . . he's dead . . ."
"What?" Amberene asked in shock.
"He's dead--oh Everlasting Cat . . ." Ava whispered. "He's dead . . ."
"Ava--you're in shock," Amber said in concern. "Someone take her back to the junkyard--"
"He's dead," the queen continued regardless of the concerned ring of faces around her.
At times like this, Cateract wished Mac or one of the older cats was there. They would know what to do or would think up of some plan. "We go back to the yard . . . call everyone in--it's an emergency this time," he said at last.
That was done and when Old Deuteronomy arrived that morning, the tale was retold again. The cats went out searching for Mir again and it was Amberene who approached the venerated cat and told him about Avaleen and her conviction that her brother had passed on. So Old Deuteronomy took the young queen to one side and saw how distraught she was.
"You think your brother is dead? Why do you say that, Ava?" the old cat asked her gently.
"I-I . . ."
Old Deuteronomy patted her paw gently. "You're so afraid of telling me?"
"Everyone would think me a freakish thing . . ."
"It's your secret to keep, Ava, but I'm here to listen to you." Old Deuteronomy was good at listening--cats invariably spilled all their woes and trouble to him eventually.
"I've had dreams--many dreams--t-they show me things . . . and they normally come true," Ava stammered out.
"Yours is the gift of foresight--you're a seer," Old Deuteronomy said after a moment's pause. "It is nothing odd . . . there are mystical and magical cats, my dear. You and your brother were twins--you might feel it very strongly if he has passed on."
Avaleen was taken aback. "B-but why?"
"Who knows? Who knows how the Everlasting Cat works?" The old cat looked towards where Jelly and Jenny were herding a number of kittens in for their nap. Amongst them were two identical black and white striped kittens. "Your cousin's children--twins like you and your brother--Tantomile and Coricopat, if I remember correctly . . . They too have the makings of mystics. It seems to run in the family--especially those with tendency towards twins."
And Avaleen was left with this news to ponder over. It troubled her badly--almost as badly as the loss of her twin. If she could see the future then those dreams meant only one thing . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Peace returned to the junkyard slowly. They never found Zerehmir--or his body--and his sister wandered around the junkyard like a ghost, withdrawn and silent most of the time.
Summer came and went, bringing with it the mating season. Pairings were inevitable. Unsurprisingly, or so the older cats thought, Macavity and Amberene made a charming couple.
They could often be seen sitting in the sun together or playing because they were still young. And one day when Macavity was waiting for her on top of the old car, his mate surprised him by leaping out from behind him. They mock wrestled for a while before drowsing atop the warm metal roof of the car.
"I was at Jelly's today," she began, "and you know what she told me?"
"Would *I* know anything about what queens say?" he asked with a smile. "Was it about me? I shall be most cross if you were telling all your friends about me--"
"Oh you!" She licked his face playfully. "Everyone knows what a handsome, fine cat I caught for myself--"
"Everyone except yourself it seems," he teased.
"You're impossible! But you might have to change, my dear--you'll be father soon," Amber told him and his heart nearly exploded for sheer wonder and joy.
The next few days, he really did look like he was walking two paws off the ground. So happy was he that when he met a certain young queen on the way to the junkyard one day, he did not turn her away.
"Mac! Macavity!" It was Estelle, grown from kitten to a young queen. Normally, he might have tried to get away from the queen's obvious advances but he felt safer now that he had a mate.
"Estelle? What are you doing here?"
"I was bored--and I'm old enough to go out on my own now!" she said proudly. "I wanted to see you again--you never came back to visit . . ."
Macavity did not want to lead her on any longer than he could help it. "I was busy, cats missing from the junkyard and all that . . . Would you like to come visit? My mate and her friends like having company over."
He had seen the disappointment in her eyes when he had mentioned Amber but she was queen enough not to show it.
"Oh, I would like to, but Daddy's not been well lately . . ."
Just then a brown and yellow tom came up the street and headed purposefully towards them. It was Estelle's brother.
"Estelle? Estelle, you're far away from home--" Lockely began.
"I'm not a child anymore!" she protested. She did not like her brother, that much Macavity could tell.
"But you're still far from our territory . . . we must go back. Good day to you," said the tom, acknowledging Macavity ever so briefly before he took his sister away.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Amberene was out walking with Avaleen, Vesta and Belinda. They had been trying to draw their friend out for weeks now--with very little success. Without her brother, Ava was like a ship without an anchor, drifting aimlessly round and round . . .
They had walks quite often, trying to get Ava interested in this and that, trying to chat about who was eyeing which tom and so on. Today, they were discussing Amber's pregnancy.
"She'll always be the luckiest one of us all--her kittens will come first," Vesta said wistfully.
"Oh you and Cateract will have your chance, soon," Amberene said with a smile. Then they were teasing each other about kits and their prospective mates.
"Who's that?" Avaleen asked suddenly as they came to a turning.
"What?"
"Over there--with Mac." The queen was looking down the street at a familiar red tom--and there was a delicate smoke-violet queen speaking with him. And suddenly a large brown tom approached the two. After a short exchange, the brown cat took the violet queen away.
"I-I've seen that cat before," Amberen said hesitantly.
"The queen?" Vesta asked, interested.
"The tom . . . I remember him from that night--" She hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Ava.
But the black and white queen seemed to be reading her thoughts. "That night my brother . . .?"
"Yes . . . I don't know how he knows Mac?"
"But does Mac know them?" Belinda wondered. "They might have just met . . ."
The queens returned to the junkyard, more than a little disturbed.
Over the next few days, Ava became even more withdrawn. She was thinking hard. She was watching Macavity and Amberene from out of the corner of her eye. Amberene had asked Macavity about that incident and he had told her that he had save the violet queen once and knew her family. Avaleen knew about that--she had a dream about those cats, more of an extended clan of strays . . . involved in shady business too.
What could this mean, the more Ava thought about it, the more the dreams nagged at her mind. But why? What motive would he--she glanced at Amberene--oh, but there *was* a motive . . .
And she started watching Macavity in earnest. The violet queen showed up sometimes, in the back alley behind the junkyard, waiting for the ginger cat. Ava might have thought Mac was having an affair behind Amber's back, but she knew that Mac was loyal to his mate and he never appeared to be overly friendly or close to the young violet queen. Ava wished it had been so, because the other alternative was too awful to think about . . .
But after a particularly horrible dream one afternoon, Avaleen awoke in the old oven, shivering. Her cries had brought no few cats to her side.
"I dreamed again . . . Mir . . . hurt, the rats . . ." she gasped as the queen comforted her. "And Macavity--I saw him again, pain and grief will follow him, I saw him leading a band of strays . . ."
"What are you saying?" Cateract asked urgently.
"He's clever enough to engineer it--" Ava stared around wildly, the terror in her eyes plain to all and sundry. "He knows those cats--he keeps contact with them--"
Amberene stared, confused and frightened. "What--"
"He did it for you!" Ava spat. "For the *love* of you! For you, he would do anything--even kill! Oh my brother!" There was pain and loss in those green eyes even as she glared at the tortoiseshell queen so intently that Amber was not just a little afraid. "I should not have kept your secret!"
"What secret?" Cateract asked, even though he really did not wish to know any more.
"She loved two cats--her mate and my brother! I saw it in my dreams--I saw Macavity and the shadow he cast was dreadful!"
"Avaleen has the gift of a seer, but we should be wary--those are only possible futures," Old Deuteronomy said carefully.
"But does it explain Macavity's involvement in Zerehmir's disappearance?" an older cat demanded. They were still calling it a "disappearance" after so long.
"He's dead!" Avaleen screamed. "The rats--he was injured and they ate him!" This caused even more heated discussions to flare up again and all was chaos until Old Deuteronomy called for silence.
"Peace," the Jellicle Leader said placidly. "If Macavity is guilty, then he shall be banished from the tribe."
The shouting started up again. "Old Deuteronomy, with all due respect, I know he is your grandson--"
"Only banishment?"
"What if it really was murder?"
"And what about his involvement with that band of strays?"
To one side, Cateract and his friends were watching the scene with growing disbelief.
"I don't believe this," Nic muttered.
"Do you believe it? Any of it?" Cateract asked desperately.
"We don't want to believe it . . ." Macavity was their friend--and now it seemed that everyone was against him. No one seemed to want to be calm and look at things reasonably. Mir's grisly end according to Avaleen had inflamed them. It was surprising for the Jellicles to act so.
But no one was more surprised than Macavity when he came into the junkyard that day. Old Deuteronomy had left for the vicarage and there were few who maintained as calm an outlook.
His mate ran to him as he came in via the back fence, looking far from her usual calm self. "Oh Mac--they're saying terrible things! You must go now--"
"Amber--what is the matter?"
"They said you had something to do with Mir's disappearance--they're going to exile you for conspiring to kill a Jellicle!"
"Jellicles are more reasonable than that!" Macavity protested, still mulling over this news. They had connected him with Mir's disappearance? But why?
"Not in this mood they aren't," Amber said. "You should go away for a while--wait until things cool down first--"
"What happened?"
"It's my fault Mac--I said that that cat I saw you with that day was one of those who had attacked Mir--a-and then Avaleen said that--"
But someone had seen them and raised the alarm. Avaleen was one of the first to react.
"Murderer!" she shrilled, still distraught.
The cry was taken up by more cats. It seemed like they were all swept up in some sort of frenzy as they rushed forwards.
He could not fight them--surely this was some bad dream? His own tribe turned on him? But when he felt the claws coming for him, he realised that this was *real* and more nightmarish than any dream.
He tried to defend himself, but that might have been constituted as an attack, so Macavity ran.
He ran from the cats who he had known all his life. Cats that had attacked him--cats who were driving him out of the junkyard and away from his mate. He ran through the familiar alleyways, confused and horrified. What was happening to his world?
"Mac! Here!" It was Estelle again--calling from the top of the fence. One friendly face and a possible escape route--he had to leave as Amber had said, wait for the situation to cool down and when the cats were in a more reasonable frame of mind . . .
Macavity leapt--
And he did not know that he was leaving more than just his mate behind . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Griddlebone's Narrative
Old Mather's body was not even cold when Lockely and Arfehul started disputing leadership. It was a bad time for the organisation as a whole--cats choosing sides and tensions overflowing all over the place . . .
Then *he* came again right in the middle of it all.
Like an ill wind blown into the old house as autumn encroached, he came in all dishevelled with marks of a fight on him. When Lockely and Arfehul had gathered the cats together to "discuss" the matter of leadership. Estelle had brought him--I knew she had gone often to see him. In the midst of all that quarrelling while her dad was fading away, she would go and confide in someone who was more like an older brother to her than Lockely and Arfehul. Now she had brought him back with her--was it another Pollicle incident, I wondered? And it could not have come at a worst time.
"Estelle! What did I say about bringing any more outsiders here?" Lockely asked when they came in. I had sidled closer and was listening in with a strange feeling of anticipation. Soon . . . something will happen soon . . .
"He was hurt and they--" Estelle began but her brother cuffed her roughly and shoved her aside.
"You're not welcome here," he said shortly. "Leave."
Of course, that was the wrong thing to say.
Here was a tom who had been pushed to the edge--any really observant cat could have seen the turmoil within him--and he was more than just confused and frightened, he was becoming angry. I saw the anger coming out, seeking a place to strike. And Lockely was kind enough to provide him with one.
"You . . ." Macavity seemed to be putting together the pieces of some puzzle in his head. "She said you were the ones who fought with Mir . . ."
"What the devil is he babbling about?" Arfehul asked irritably. His argument had been interrupted by Mac's arrival and he did not take it well.
"Tell me," the ginger tom asked intently, "did you once fight a black and white tom in a warehouse?"
"So what? We've fought lots of cats--now leave before we have to be impolite."
Ha! As though they knew what manners were to begin with. I watched the newcomer and I could see where this was going to lead to, oh yes I could . . .
"No."
"We have no time for this!" Lockely hissed. "Move yourself, Jellicle, this is no place for you!"
"It is my place to demand vengeance," Macavity said softly. "For my friend! And for myself . . ."
"No--"Estelle began--but they were already springing.
Battles were won in the mind. As Macavity leapt, time seemed to stand still. In those great yellow eyes, there was a terrible burning need for the fire within them to be released. In that moment, Lockely had already lost when he confronted that gaze.
They went for each other, spitting and hissing. It was brutal, neither cat giving way. Lockely might have thought it would a brief warm-up before he would fight his brother, but the ginger tom proved him wrong. They were fighting in earnest now. Macavity got the upper paw and grabbed Lockely by the scruff as he would a kitten. Lockely squealed and then was silent as his thick skull connected with the wall.
It was not Estelle who warned him of Arfehul's attack. I had watched the two brothers closely--they would stab each in the back any day but against an outsider . . .
"Behind you!"
The ginger tom spun around to meet Arfehul coming at him in mid-air. They rolled over in a deadly dance. Arfehul got a few good ones in before Macavity dealt with him as he had his brother. They were not dead, only stunned--though it would be safer the other way.
And then there was silence as the tom with a coat like fire stood panting in the middle of the floor. As though suddenly aware of all the eyes on him, the ginger tom sat himself down and very deliberately began to wash his wounds. It was a calculated move--any sign of fear or an attempt to flee would have been a mistake. Estelle approached him carefully and her presence brought some sort of order.
"So what now?" asked a large tom by the wall who had been checking on Lockely and Arfehul.
"He has won his right to stay by combat," I said. Any cat could see the sense of that--it was something primitive and instinctive. Leader of the pride . . .
"But what now?" some cat asked. Lockely and Arfehul were stirring from where they had fallen.
"Cast them out--they're nothing but trouble," I said quickly. There was still Estelle and as long as she stood with Macavity, he was safe. "Take them out now!"
Without proper leadership, most were willing to listen to the first viable idea thrown before them. This I learned as several cats nodded in agreement and started towards the downed toms. Everyone was fairly sick of the two brothers' bickering and scheming and if any still supported them, they were careful to keep their heads down. I would have to watch out for them later . . .
"Griddlebone! Lori! Help him! He's hurt" Estelle pleaded. Lori would have done it anyhow--she was that type. I nodded to Old Gaffer and we three followed the ginger tom as he got up and left the kitchen. We took him to an upstairs room and Lori checked him over. He fell asleep halfway through--exhausted by the fights.
He had to heal fast--his own survival depended on it. For things were moving very fast now, very fast indeed . . .
And so Macavity had begun a different journey from that which was intended for him by Old Deuteronomy.
"He would have been leader after me," the elder sighed. "But again, that was not to be . . ."
Part Four: Light in the Darkness
In the midst of the frenzy that had seized the Jellicles that dreadful day, Avaleen had collapsed, so highly strung was she. She woke again in the oven with Vesta hovering over her.
"Oh you're up at last," Vesta said in relief. "They're trying to find Macavity--Old Deuteronomy came back and everyone calmed down again. They're trying to straighten out this mess . . ."
And it was a dreadful mess now that everyone was feeling guilty for chasing out a fellow Jellicle. They were starting to question . . . How had Macavity done it? What about the Pollicles then? Was Mac involved with *them* too? Unheard of for a cat . . .
The only way to find out was to find Macavity. But no cat had seen tail or whisker of him. Why did he not return then, if he was innocent?
All through it, Amberene had looked like her heart had shattered into pieces. She hardly spoke to any cat and Avaleen knew the fault was all hers. Oh how she wished she could have taken back all those words!
But later, a month later, the others came with news. News from the Jellicles who were strays and had contacts with others of their kind. Macavity was now leader of a pack of strays. Macavity had killed. Macavity had rats working for him.
There was an immediate commotion in the junkyard at the news. There were Jellicles who were suddenly proclaiming how they had known that Macavity was guilty from the start. Macavity's old friends looked like they had been hit by a tree, the way they stared in shock at the news--they had been the ones still actively believing Macavity's innocence.
Old Deuteronomy's expression was sorrowful as he spoke. "If he has killed, if he has indeed forsaken this tribe, then let him return to us no more . . ."
At this, there was a cry. It was Amberene, well into her pregnancy and grief-stricken by the loss of her mate. Jellylorum and the other queens went to her even as the toms started wondering what Macavity would do next. In the middle of this war-like counsel, one cat looked about in bewilderment and sudden realisation.
"My fault! It's my fault! Oh Everlasting Cat!" Stricken by the magnitude of what had transpired, Avaleen turned and ran, unnoticed by any cat.
Ran as fast as all four paws could take her. Ran away from the awful knowledge that Macavity's expulsion had been *her* mistake, that his fate was *her* doing. The visions in her dream--they could never have come true if not for *her* meddling.
It was she who had been *projecting*--her grief and pain had taken over and she had projected those raw emotions unknowingly. And the others had been affected by it. She saw it so clearly now--her violent moods from those dreams had somehow been transmitted by her latent psychic abilities and so the fork in the path was past. Her visions were coming true . . .
Later--much later--when the fuss had died down at last and some semblance of order had been restored, there was no sign of the black and white queen. They mounted a search, but she was no where to be found. It was a sad thing everyone agreed, that she should disappear out of grief for her lost brother--a pair of twins gone from the junkyard forever.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Griddlebone's Narrative
After that eventful day, we left Macavity alone except to go check on his wounds. He had got an infected scratch and was feverish for days. Estelle told us about how he had been chased out by his tribe and she put out the word that if any cat should ask about a ginger tom, we all were to keep mum about it.
But everyone else would not wait that long.
Even as his fever broke, there were stirrings of dissent. Lockely and Arfehul would not give up so easily. They caught us all unprepared as they returned with their supporters' help and chased the just-healed ginger cat out. The scales of power shifted again . . .
They threw Estelle out as an example--she ran so far even Lori and I could not find her afterwards. Some cats were thinking of leaving--after what they had done to poor Estelle, Lori and Gaffer were thinking of packing it in and fleeing.
And Macavity came back a week later to challenge them. This time he took them both down with a kind of ruthlessness not present before and if there were any disputes about it this time, the dark pulsing mass of rats behind him quashed all opposition . . .
The word would spread.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tired . . . tired to the bone . . . Macavity slept like the dead even though he was hurting from the scratches he had sustained in battle. When he woke, he knew only a hazy delirium and that there were ghostly figures of cats around him, whispering, murmuring . . .
"Scratched badly . . . infected . . ."
"What can you do . . . help . . ."
" . . . has to live . . . or else . . ."
Much later, he awoke alone. His thoughts went to his mate, his tribe, his lost friends . . . He propped himself up on one shoulder, wondering how much time had passed. Should he even be here? Amberene--the kittens--his train of thought was cut short when he noticed the one anomaly in the decrepit old bedroom.
It was a rat sitting some distance away from where he was lying, all tense and ready to flee.
The rat was saying something to him. Intrigued, Macavity listened. It must be a strange dream indeed for him to be talking to a rat . . .
But Macavity soon realised that this was no dream--and so he was prepared when Lockely and Arfehul came back and instigated the shift in power once again.
They chased him out and hounded him like the blazes until he eluded them. The rat found him and brought him to where the others were in the sewers. There, Macavity thought much upon revenge and how he might have done it earlier . . .
The rats became his eyes and ears to the outside world. Macavity knew of the going-ons in Old Mather's organisation. Lockely and Arfehul were intelligent up to only a certain point. They had driven out their sister as a traitor and after that, they fell back into the cycle of fighting for power once again. They had forgotten about him in such a short time. But he had not forgotten them.
So it was fairly easy to go back to the old house to challenge them both. Macavity knew a savage kind of joy as he broke them both--such an alien feeling to the one time Jellicle--and the rats, they took care of the rest . . .
He had a bargain with them now. He had learned their speech fairly quickly and in exchange for safety amongst the cats he might some day command, they would be his spies and his army. His prosperity would be theirs.
It was not his plan to stay there--his thoughts were still focused on the junkyard and getting back to his mate. He could bear the loss of his tribe, but not his mate. They could stay with his humans. Only he had to repay a debt--to young Estelle who had been cast out by her own kin.
But by then, it was already too late.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jellylorum came out of the oven, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Well?" Vesta and Belinda asked at the same time.
"Two kittens--a pretty pair of queens," Jelly told them. "They're healthy and loud as can be . . ."
"Oh, the Everlasting Cat was listening!" They went in afterwards to see the exhausted mother and her two kits. They congratulated her, praised the kittens and told her how brave she was. But Amberene only looked wane and tired.
She was a devoted mother and she seldom stirred from the old oven--her kittens were all that she had left of her mate. The other queens began to be worried. It was as though a light had been extinguished the day Macavity had been officially exiled. She never truly recovered from the shock. A week after the kittens were born, Amberene passed on. They would always say that she died of a broken heart.
Vesta and Belinda took over the care of the kits in the memory of their friend. And they named the older kitten Bombalurina--red and fiery like her sire--and the younger one Demeter--who was marked very much like Amberene.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In the aftermath of Macavity's expulsion and the dark days that followed, Julianna found herself going to see old Pherya more often. Autumn was drawing in and winter was not far behind--she was concerned for the old cat.
Julianna examined the older queen worriedly. She was growing thinner and tended to stay in her rude shelter more.
"It's an illness, Julia . . . keep away from me," Pherya said softly. "Soon I will go to the Everlasting Cat . . ."
"Don't say that!" Julianna exclaimed in dismay.
But one day she came and found the old cat lying still in her pipe. No amount of cajoling would wake her and Julianna knew that Pherya was dead. With a bowed head, Julianna exited the pipe, mourning the loss of a friend.
Her appearance surprised one of the strays who frequented that site.
"You shouldn't be here!" the other cat hissed.
"W-why? I was seeing an old friend--" Julianna began.
"That old queen in the pipe?" the tom asked suspiciously
"She just died--"
"It's the wasting disease, you stupid queen!" the cat snarled before loping off, angry and frightened of the disease--and of *her*.
Julianna was suddenly brought up short by the tom's words. The wasting disease--every cat's nightmare. And Pherya had been ill . . . there had been no cats coming by that area recently . . .
"Everlasting Cat!" Was the illness contagious? Julianna remembered how often she had visited the old queen. Oh, she needed help--she needed someone to tell her if she had caught it too--
But she could not risk going back to the junkyard. What if she passed the disease on? To her friends, to the older cats . . . to her children.
No . . .
Julianna began walking, thoughts churning around in her head like frightened mice. Firstly, she knew her presence was not necessary in the junkyard. She was a queen without a mate--even though that absent mate might have been Leader of the Jellicles once--and there were queens to take care of the other kittens.
But her children . . .
Munkustrap. Old Deuteronomy said he might try to get him some humans. He would be safe with humans and well cared for according to the old cat--if he found some good humans, that is. It was Cateract who might need the presence of his mother. But surely, he was an adult now--surely he could . . . not help but see her disappearance as another betrayal.
Burdened with her thoughts, Julianna did not return to the junkyard for the first time in her life. She sought no other Jellicles and kept away from other cats. Like Pherya had--living like a hermit.
She spent her days wondering about, missing the company of friends and family. The pickings were thin, especially when she was a strange cat in even stranger territory.
Was this what her mother had felt?
Julianna paused in her wanderings and stared sightlessly at the leaves that blew past her. But she was truly taken with the wasting illness, she could tell . . . her starved state only made the knowledge worse. So engrossed in her thoughts was she that she failed to notice the human walking past until she heard the loud crunch of boot heels amidst the dry leaves.
The human stopped and subjected Julianna to an intense regard. She tensed up, but she was tired and weak--too weak to fight off anything that meant her harm as the human's hands came closer.
But those hands were kind and they lifted her gently, stroking and petting her as the human murmured soft words to her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Griddlebone's Narrative
After Macavity had disposed of Lockely and Arfehul in a way that no cat would ever forget, he set everyone out to search for Estelle. I could tell he did not want this position and he felt somewhat responsible for the young queen's predicament. They never found Estelle and after two weeks, even Macavity had to give up.
After that, Macavity sent his rats out to find out news from the junkyard and his former tribe. He took the news of his exile quite calmly but when they came back with the news about his mate giving birth to his kits and dying shortly after, Macavity all but went mad with grief.
He was roaring incoherently after he got the news and no cat dared to go near him. He tore up quite a bit of one wall and spent the night on the roof--we could hear him calling his mate's name over and over until morning. After that day, he kept to his room and never came out even to eat.
Not that there was much to eat. These times were lean and one of the first priorities was to find some form of sustenance. It was the leader's job to take care of those matters. And right now we had a leader who didn't want to be the leader even though he could do it.
After much discussion in the kitchens, I went up the stairs, trailed by a good many cats and entered Macavity's den. The reddish tom was sitting up at the window, looking out. His coat was tangled and untidy--like he had not been grooming for the past few days.
"Macavity . . ."
His bloodshot eyes swung my way and I suppressed the urge to back away.
"Macavity--it's been four days . . ."
He was ignoring me.
"Macavity--you have to do something! Cats are looking to you for leadership!"
He really couldn't care.
So I had to appeal to something closer to his heart. "This . . . is not so different from leadership of the Jellicles." I risked mentioning the name of his old tribe, but it got his attention all right. "You have to take care of the territory. And for the cats. Some of them have families and *kittens* to feed. You're a better leader than Lockely and Arfehul could ever be--they're all depending on you . . ."
He did not speak for a long time but when he did stir, there was something purposeful in his movements again. "Call everyone . . ."
When Macavity lost his mate, he had lost something of himself. We tried to replace that hole with responsibility. He had to see *us* as his people. And when he called the cats to him that day and started speaking, Lori and I knew that he had always been born to lead. It was in his blood and it gave him some direction in life.
He was so much more intelligent than that pair of unfortunate brothers--especially when that intellect was given a definite outlet to flow. He also knew how humans behaved as well--which was why his plans worked. He organised the food thefts so neatly that everyone could not help but agreed. He had them sneaking into butcher shops and making off with the best cuts--as well as the fish mongers, markets and the odd kitchen or two. We ate well for once and any doubters would have been convinced by their stomachs that Macavity was doing his job.
Macavity was the leader now and he did not think about his humans or his tribe anymore--or so I thought. He was soon known as the Napoleon of Crime because of his wiles and cats learned to tread warily when his reputation became common knowledge.
And everything might have been fine--until he came back one day with two kittens.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Busy as he was with the organisation, Macavity's thoughts normally meandered back to one place. It was his birthplace and his fondest memories would always reside there. The pack of strays had given him reason to push on, but that never took the pain away completely. He would often stray close to the junkyard when he was outside, drawn by the pull of the memories. It was also where his mate had died.
In the early days of winter, he began lurking closer. It was inevitable that he gave into the temptation and spied upon his former tribe from a chink in the back fence. The second time he did this, he chanced to see two kittens playing near the back of the junkyard--watched by Jellylorum. One of them was red and the other one was marked so much like Amberene that Macavity forgot to breathe for a while.
And then some cat called for Jelly and she went over to see what the matter was. When her back was turn, there was no other queen watching that pair of kittens.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Macavity had leapt down, seized the two kittens and was over the fence and away before anyone saw him. They mewled as he bore them swiftly back to the hideout.
In the relative safety of his den, he gazed raptly at his children. The older one was red like him and the younger bore a striking resemblance to her mother. They stared back at him silently, frightened. They did not know him at all and that pained him the most . . .
Later, he brought them downstairs--he would have to ask some queen to feed them.
"Are you mad? You brought them back here--" Griddlebone asked him sharply when he had asked them about that matter. Lori was already taking care of the kits--it was the mother in her being protective. Macavity hissed in irritation. How could he explain this?
"They're *my* kittens!" he said stubbornly.
"True," Griddlebone conceded, "but do you think their foster parents would let them go so easily?"
The two queens exchanged a look. There would be trouble after this, they could feel it. The Jellicles would not let the loss of these two kitten pass--not after all that had happened in the past few months. And not if they knew that Macavity of all cats had them. One of the kittens--the younger one--sensing the tensions in the air, started crying for her mother.
That was the breaking point. Macavity looked away from his offspring because it hurt too much now--they reminded him too much of Amber.
"Take them back!" he barked, not turning around. Who was he trying to fool? Only himself apparently. He knew as well as any that his kits were Jellicles and they belonged with their tribe--his former tribe.
Griddlebone obeyed with alacrity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Howard Dowling entered his office promptly at nine and was greeted by Alice, his receptionist and assistant.
"Good morning, Doctor," said the young woman cheerfully.
"Good morning, Alice--found any strays today?" It was a ritual between them--like her calling him "Doctor" all the time--because Alice had this habit of picking up strays because she felt sorry for them.
"As a matter of fact, Doctor--I have . . . she's in the IU." Alice was familiar enough with her employer to know that her actions would not be frowned upon.
"Ah well, we still have time before my first appointment," said the veterinarian before they went to the room they liked to call the Isolation Unit. Alice was usually sensible enough to put any of her newly found strays in the IU at the back of the clinic.
It was a grey tabby queen that was staring mutely from a cage in the IU that morning. The vet examined her, saw how thin she was and asked Alice to bring food.
"She must have been starving," Alice said as she watched the queen eat. "Is there anything wrong with her, Doctor?"
"A case of FLV, Alice," Howard Dowling said sadly. His own cat had been infected, not five years ago. He had given her the injection himself--he could never forget that.
"Can I take her home?" Alice asked impulsively after a moment's silence. "I haven't had any other cat after old Moggie died."
"She won't last very long," Howard began.
"I know," Alice blurted out. "I'll bring her back . . . when it's time."
The vet nodded his assent. Alice had a soft spot for hopeless cases and they had to be careful that an infected cat did not infect any other patients. And Christmas was coming too. Funny how such a supposedly cheerful season could be such a nightmare for some vets. But quite a few cats and dogs were abandoned during this time. And there were heaps that got given away as presents and needed vaccinations.
Like his next appointment at ten. It was his niece Clara with her new kitten.
"Isn't he cute, Uncle?" thirteen year old Clara asked as she presented the gangling grey tabby tom to him in his clinic later. "Uncle Fred found him for me!"
Howard nodded attentively as he checked this latest addition to Clara's family. Father Fredrick at the Vicarage always managed to find kittens or young cats to put up for adoption. It had something to do with Fred's cat--an old patriarch who's extended family could very probably be found everywhere in the city.
"He's a healthy, strong lad," he told his niece. "Just needs his shots and something for the ear mites. What did you name him?"
"I think I'll name him either Freddy or Howy--after you!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Munkustrap did not mind his new humans. They were all right once the girl had stopped trying to put ribbons around his neck. And they let him go out for air and play.
Which was why he was on his way to the junkyard that day. His brother might be worrying for him already. And perhaps their mother might have been found. When he entered, he found the Jellicles having an emergency meeting--a state that normally meant very bad things recently.
"Cateract? Whatever's the matter?" he asked his older brother.
"The kittens--Bombalurina and Demeter . . . they're gone--we're going to search for them," Cateract said distractedly. For once he was not brooding--brooding over why Julianna had not came back one day. That was just before Munkustrap was taken away by Old Deuteronomy to go meet his prospective humans. "Did your humans treat you well?"
"They're fine," Munkustrap reassured his brother. He looked around for his mother, but she was not there.
"She didn't come back," Cateract said out of the corner of his mouth as they listened to Skimbleshanks detailing a search plan.
"Oh." Munkustrap could see the doubt his brother faced. Their mother could be dead from some accident and they would never know. Or it could be as the whispering queens said . . . "Gone the way of her brothers, her mother Grizabella . . . footloose . . ." Cateract had pretended he never heard those whispers but he was hurt by them, Munkustrap could tell.
"All right, me laddies! We'll set off now and meet back here when the moons rises!" Skimble called from the front. "Good luck with the searchin'!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Griddlebone's Narrative
I called a few cats together for an escort and Lori and I took the kittens out into the cold winter afternoon so that we might bring them back to the junkyard. They might not be so suspicious of us if two queen--Lori and I--approached them later.
But things did not go as planned. We were going down an alley when suddenly a bunch of tom cats sprang out at us and started attacking.
"Give us those kittens!" one of them yelled and I realised with a sinking feeling that these were Jellicles--but they had jumped the gun first. Our people started defending themselves--they were street strays and it was practically instinctive. Attack when attacked . . .
I wanted to drop the kittens and call a retreat--and then Macavity was there with his rats. At that moment, he had to save us from his former tribe--not a good situation to be in.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Munkustrap had joined his brother's search party eagerly. There had been a great many searches conducted that year, but Munkustrap was now old enough to join his brother and his friends. The friends of his generation were also going and Munku could not help but exchange grins and winks with Alonzo, Tugger and the others.
"Hurry up, Munku--this isn't a picnic!" Cateract called. And he was proven right very soon.
It was Nic who spotted the approaching cats and they all hid themselves to observed. There were about four toms and with them were two queens. The queens were carrying the two missing kittens.
"We should hurry--Macavity wants us back early," one of the strangers said when they came nearer.
That was enough for Cateract. He leapt out before anyone else could act and the others were forced to go after him.
"Give us those kittens!" he demanded before jumping into the fray. Munkustrap wanted to stop him because he understood his brother's anger. Macavity had been his brother's best friend after all . . . and now with their mother gone, Cateract had been growing more and more angry by the day. This was just the last straw . . .
It looked like they would win--because they outnumbered the outsiders--but then Munkustrap heard a loud shout and he was suddenly surrounded by rats. Large, sleek, black rats who were biting him even as he hissed and swatted at them in revulsion.
At one point, Munkustrap saw the fiery coat of the outcast--and then Cateract was shouting at him from somewhere in the press of fighting cats.
"Macavity!" The grey tabby sprang onto the ginger tom and there was a brief tussle before the exile cast him off.
"I won't fight you, old friend!" Macavity called across the noise of the battle. "Take the kittens and--"
There was a shrill scream as one of Macavity's people fell. More Jellicles were coming, attracted by the noise of the fight. Munkustrap lost sight of his brother as he found himself fighting for his life. This was not any mock-fight, this was not kittens playing at war . . .
This was a bloody and brutal scrap--rats were dying but the Jellicles and Macavity's people were also going down. But it had to end.
It ended with Macavity's forces pulling out at his command. Munkustrap was still slashing out on reflex when there were no more attackers. He halted, panting--and looked about for his brother even as the other Jellicles approached the battlefield cautiously.
Cateract was lying in the slushy ground a few metres away. Munkustrap stumbled over and nudged his brother's shoulder. "C'mon, Cat . . . it's over now . . ." But Cateract was bleeding from numerous bites and scratches and was barely moving. Munku felt more Jellicles moving around him as they supported him and his brother--the non-combatants had came to help move the injured . . .
Macavity was one of the last to retreat from the field, driving his henchcats and the rats before him. Munkustrap would always remember how the ginger tom looked, all bloody and battered as he stood at the tail of the retreating column of rats. He was looking at the two kittens who were being collected by near hysterical group of Jellicle queens and then he turned abruptly and left.
Munkustrap passed out at about that time. He would always remember that battle--his first and the most terrible one. He would remember it always in the winter time.
And Macavity would always be associated with the death of his brother.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Old Deuteronomy knew what grief was. Grief was losing his son when he left with his humans. Grief was exiling his own grandson and losing another when Cateract had given up fighting against the infection from the rat bites. Cateract was one of the three cats who had lost their lives in the battle.
Old Deuteronomy closed his eyes as he sat on the wall behind the Vicarage . . . he did not want to be the one to tell Munkustrap that he was in next in line for the position of leadership, not after what the youth had lost in the past few days. But he had no choice . . .
His grandson was resting at his humans' home. They had sent him to the vet when he had returned with his injuries. Rat bites tended to fester and Munkustrap was fortunate to come away with nothing permanent.
When Old Deuteronomy came to see his grandson, the young tom was looking better already, but there was a change in him. Munkustrap looked older now--more ready to take on the responsibilities of a leader. The battle had aged him in many ways. He would do, Old Deuteronomy decided, he would do . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Julianna spent most of the winter in the apartment of the human woman who was kind. The woman lived alone and gave her quite a lot of attention. There had been another cat that lived here once--it had died of old age. Julianna could tell all this from sniffing at the cat basket and the dishes where the human put her food.
It was a blissful time and Julianna felt less burdened even though she knew she was dying. She was purring peacefully in the human woman's arms when she took her to the vet again.
There was a little pain when the human male handled her, and then she fell asleep as the female human held her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alice could be heard sniffling behind him as he cleared up. Howard Dowling patted her shoulder awkwardly. "She went quietly--dignified end, I should say . . ."
His assistant nodded and wiped at her tearing eyes. She was still not used to this part of her job even after so long. Howard preferred to let her sit out of most of them but she insisted on carrying the grey tabby after he had given her the injection.
Now it was the end of the day and they had stayed back to see the pretty tabby off to wherever cats went after passing on. They cleared up and closed the clinic in silence.
"Merry Christmas, Doctor," Alice said to him before they left. It was Christmas Eve--he had almost forgot. He even had a party to go to tonight.
"Merry Christmas, Alice."
The End
