"Parallel Memories" by Tigerjaunt

This story was written as if all of the characters were Feli Prral rather than Earth felines. I did this to allow Grizabela to interact with other species on her own level. There are a few things to bear in mind about the Feli Prral: We are a race of Cat-like bipeds from a planet across the galaxy. The Jellicle "tribe" formation on Earth is a parallel of our "Prrals.". Prralian's can broadcast Instrumental music by mind, somewhat like telepathy. It can be heard by all races, but the ability to project it is unique to Prralians, and, apparently, Earth Felines. Certain phrases, such as Grizabela's use of French, and her stage name "Belle" are approximations of the same style of society.

Planet-fall, two hours. The world weary gray figure slumped in the window seat barely registered the voice. Her mind was numb, with anxiety, with fear, with desperation, and, above and beyond, hope.

The attendant, walking softly down the ship's aisles, half bent to question the passenger, but a glimpse of the haunting eyes and she straightened up and hurried on, as if she'd never stopped. No one stopped for Grizabela anymore. No one…there had been a time, a time when the world would have stopped, had she but wished it, when the galactic center rang with the power of her voice…

*****

The house was packed. The audience was breathless. Grizabela left them waiting, smiling to herself, twirling her hair about with her two inch long, lacquered claws. Let them wait; they'd be all the more thrilled when the silence finally broke. The stage manager broke her reverie. "Miss Belle, Belle! They won't wait much longer, and it'll be my…" "Very well, monsieur. Lets give them what they want, shall we?" She smiled, a practice smile, a start, before the stage. She stood up, feigning languor, though her heart had began to beat with the thrill of performance. She stretched out her arms and the manager relieved her of her fur coat, revealing the shimmery black dress she wore beneath it. A dress. Ha. Just another bow to off-worlder customs. Just another bow…and bows were what Grizabela lived for. She strode onto the stage, long practiced smile shining, showing off perfect teeth. She had had the abnormally sharp canines, yet another hallmark of her race, filed down long ago. She was greeted with roars of applause, and she answered with smiles all round, taking her place in the center. She was picked out by a spotlight, and the audience hushed. Grizabela reached for her mind music, finding it sure and strong. She released the strains of an ancient love song, and began to sing-

*****

The aged Grizabela dug her nails into the seat's upholstery. They had loved her voice, and she had loved the glamour…and the song had not been her own. She could see it now, it was so clear…as she rose in the world, she had lost the taste for anything but sequins and lime light, and her music had stopped welling true. Oh, her voice had been beautiful, and she gave the melodies a twist all her own, but song never sprang from her heart, new and full of life, as it had used to. She had lost the gift, the magic behind the Feli Prral…that inborn skill for spontaneous composition. She searched in her memory for the last moment she had truly felt it…oh so long ago…

*****

Grizabela stood on a small stage in the back world Kyrizan, mind, heart, and soul united in the joyous surge of triumph. She had made it, she would make it, she would be famous. The scout had promised her. Right after this performance she would go to galactic center; in triumph. She held her slim body erect with pride, her sleek fur shining silver in the stage lights. Without conscious thought, without plan, she opened her mouth, opened her mind, and song and melody never before heard reached out to her captivated audience. A song of triumph, of joy, of pride, of success. Music so powerful, the adjectives of the standard tongue could not begin to describe it.

*****

The gray form smiled at the memory. She had been so innocent then, so sure, a young Prralian out to make her fortune, the willful child, no more than a kitten, running headlong to glory.

She could see Prralia out the view-port now, a large planet, nearly covered in the lush jungle green, with here and there the gold of savanna or the blue of sea. As they passed the night-side she could see the lights of the major cities, like great glowing beacons to the wanderer. To think that she had willfully pushed aside this beauty…such an unspoiled planet, such friendly cities…

*****

Belle waved to her heart-friend from the wing of the shuttle. Helta broke down and ran to her gray friend, giving her one last embrace. "You'll do it, Belle, I know you will. But why do you have to leave?" Belle smiled warmly. "Because here I'm just another singer among millions, a musician among millions. Everyone here shares my gift. So few of them share it with the out-world. I can spread our music!" Helta smiled at her noble cause, and Belle kept the deeper reason to herself. Out there, she wouldn't be one of millions, she would be one in a million. Better. She would be special, something else, something marvelous…

*****

The ship touched down lightly at a crowded space port under the full noon sun. Grizabela slipped out the back as soon as she had showed her ID. She had no baggage to collect, and she wasn't ready to see the others. She would walk, first, and remember. She followed a track into the surrounding woods, feeling soft sand on tired feet, seeing giant, smooth barked trees towering to the sky. Beautiful. Her steps were slow where she used to run through woods such as these, but it only gave her more time to soak it all in. Her path led her around the port, into the outskirts of the city. Outskirts were something Grizabela was all to familiar with. This close to a space port the ratio of out-worlders to Prralians was high, and Grizabela felt safe. Then she saw a bold red form strutting towards her down the street. That confident Prralian seared through Grizabela's memory, and she ducked into a side street to avoid her …

*****

Grizabela shrunk at the shouts from the stage door. She had warned them, had told them again and again, the hype was too much, the prices to high, people would think they were there to see something special. At the least a new song. Grizabela, charm turned on full, had simply not been able to satisfy them. Now she was out in the street. She huddled into her fur coat, thankful for its warmth more than its sleek beauty. Rain began to fall, smearing makeup, turning her long hair into a water logged mess. She looked at her image in a puddle, a bedraggled creature a long way from home. "This is me, Grizabela. The glamour cat." She hissed to herself. She should have known all along. What was her fancy name? Grizabela. Gray beauty, she had thought at first, now she saw the true meaning: Old. An old cat who was trying the glamour that worked for kittens, a dried up husk of her younger self. Who would remember the famous Belle now?

From then on things had gotten worse. She had wandered where ever a ship would take her, singing in pubs, inns, on street corners, using her hard earned credits to try and bring back the look of her vanished youth, denying the fact that it was not her age that had been her fall.

A few yards ahead of her a golden glow rectangle of light came from an open door. A pub, maybe, or an inn. Back to the beginning. At least it was warm. She fumbled in her pockets for credits: barely enough, she hadn't gotten payed for the last three gigs. She slipped inside the door, glancing at the sign above her. The Friend at Hand. Perfect. She needed a friend. The atmosphere inside was filled with warmth and laughter. Surprisingly, two other Prralians sat in the pub; a red queen and a younger female, patterned with black and gold. The young one smiled at her warmly, and timidly walked up to her. "Hello, I'm Demeter of Ter'Prral, are you Belle, the singer?" She asked. Grizabela's eyes lit up. "You're of Ter'Prral? So am I!" I really have to go back more, she thought. There are kittens in my Prral I've never even heard of! "May I sit with you?" She asked, and Demeter made room for her on the bench. The red cat walked over, a smile on her face. "We're both of Ter'Prral, and we were sent to look for you by Deuteronomy." She smiled at the old cat's name and Grizabela's eyes lit up. "We want you to come back. We know the past few years have been hard.."

Grizabela's eyes hardened and voice was filled with pride. "Hard? I can deal with hard. Its just a lull, the audience's tastes have changed. They'll recover and I'll be better than I was before!"

Demeter smiled reassuringly. "Of course. But why don't you come back, wait out the…lull…at home, with your Prral? They…we…miss you."

Grizabela shook her head. "No. I said I'd seek my own way, and I am. I don't need kittens coming to offer me safe return. I can return whenever I choose, but I prefer to live a star!" She rose and stalked out of the room.

She didn't think about the two cats much, and it was a month before she saw them again. She was singing in a broken down diner, and Prralians walked in the door. At her break they exchanged pleasantries, as if the events of the previous month had never happened. Then Demeter opened her mouth with her intent obvious in her eyes. "NO! Said Grizabela. I'm fine, this is just a waiting job. Wait a few months, I'll be famous again." Demeter looked at Bombalurina sadly, and the red cat spoke for both of them. "Very well, I wish you luck." They stood up and walked from the restaurant.

Grizabela's make up got thicker, the lights got lower, and the gigs got cheaper. She still refused to admit defeat. She took to a nightly glass of brandy (to send her to sleep at night). Depression raised that to two a night, then one in the morning to wake up. When next she saw the Prralians, her breath reeked of booze. Bombalurina approached her this time, leaving Demeter behind her. She turned her head aside when she caught the wiff of alcohol that drifted outward with Grizabela's voice. "You know what we came here for. Come home. Please." She knelt by the gray cat. "Whaz for me there?" Grizabela's words were slurred. "What'd they wan with a thing like me?" She picked up the corner of her now tattered fur coat and dropped it." Bombalurina sighed and walked out of the room.

Several times through the year Grizabela was sure she saw the red cat. Through a daze of drink and depression she thought she caught Bombalurina watching her, her face changing from hope, to sorrow, to contempt. Then even that scanty connection with her past was gone, and she saw her no more.

The day came when there weren't any credits left for lodging or drink, and Griz couldn't stand straight enough to sing. Her fall was complete, and she didn't have enough sense to feel it. She collapsed in an alley, calling for her mother, imagining herself surrounded by the warmth and love of her Prral. She woke a day later, starving, chilled, and lonely. But her head was cleared. For the first time in months she wondered what had become of the two Prralian's who wanted her to return home. Home. Her laughter was harsh and strained. Her singing voice was coarse with disuse and drink. If they wanted her so bad, why not? She'd go home…home. She spent the next week trying to pick herself up. She practiced singing in the dark allies and tried to find her mind music, but the search only brought headaches. She sang in a tavern once, pleased with the way her voice was healing. The owner offered her board, and she expected. This time she had no thought of returning to her former glory; she merely worked long enough for the fare to Prralia. Then, still wreck, but a wreck with a purpose, a wreck with hope, she boarded the ship home.

*****

Grizabela heard the musical call to a ball as she slipped out of the town. A ball…! She listened longer, waiting for the key notes of identity…what luck! Not any ball, but that of Ter'Prral…her own. Her feet led her to the sound, and at dusk she stood by an abandoned scrap yard, watching her Prral dance beneath the moon. She was well hidden in the shadows, but she heard every word, every joyous note. Finally, she could bear her solitude no longer. She walked into the Prral, holding out her paws and smiling greetings to a group of young kittens…only to have them pulled away from her. Demeter approached, moving to a growing, sonorous melody. She began to sing, her tone haunting and sad…

Bombalurina joined in the song, but there was less compassion and more contempt in her voice.

In shock, Grizabela walked away, voices repeating, over and over "Grizabela the glamour cat." She could barely think. All this way…and then that. Was she that? Against her mind's will, her feet turned back to the dance, and once more she watched from the shadows. Then all was quiet for a while, the dancers apparently gone, and she wandered out into the dancing ground of her memories, searching for mind music, finding none, but words and melody did play in her mind, and sang her sorrow to the cold moon.

Heartbroken, she limped from the circle, to caught up in her misery to look around, never seeing the extended paw of Old Deuteronomy. Throughout the night, she never moved. She saw terror, saw Deuteronomy kidnapped, a fight…but she never moved. Then, when she thought she could wait no more, that she must leave, she saw a kitten silhouetted against the brightening sky, and heard that high young voice echo the melody of her pleading song earlier.

Through a daze of wonderment she saw Munkustrap, the gray tabby, announcing the moment of old Deuteronomies choice: The cat who would be given new life. But she was enthralled by the voice of a child and the thought of a song, and her soul opened to the dawn, and mind music was hers again. She sang of her wishes, of the dissatisfaction of her life, the happiness she once had…

She heard the kitten take up the song again, voice clean and fresh and young, and she joined her silver voice to that of the kittens. Her voice had all the power of her youth, her soul was in the words, and the power of entreaty in the last verse was nearly to much to be born…

As her song ended she felt the warmth of a paw in hers, and cats, her Prral, gathered round her. She turned to the face of Deuteronomy, seeing the welcome and love she had do long sought. The consent unanimous, the Prral began walking around her, their music taking on a triumphant note, their voices quiet, then growing in strength-

Grizabela was in a daze, her tired body lifted by the music, her soul rejuvenated, filled, at last, with love. She followed Deuteronomy, holding tight to his wrinkled hand, filled with music formed for feeling, not show, and the power of it…her heart full of joy, she stepped up…and was light.

Home
Back to fanfics