Chapter One: The American Frontier
September 4th, 1887
The sky was fading for the night, a cloudless blue horizon progressively changing to a light orange tone with the sun slowly descending away from the earth. There was nothing on the barren ground, save a vulture hovering across the wasteland. Only a few patches of catcus dotted the cast desert, the prime focus being a pale brown mountain lounging in the background and a wagon heading towards San Francisco.
Mammy Two Shoes was propped at the front seat, driving the horse. Tired of the city life she was leaving in Queens, the rather plump African-American maid had decided to move out west. Joining her for the venture was what she considered a prize possession: Tom. The gray cat, trying to ignore the noise of the rambunctious wagon, was known by cats throughout New York for being an expert mouse chaser. The moment when a mouse entered his house, Tom proceeded to snuff the intruding rodent's life out beneath his claws in a matter of seconds, ending the mouse's misery quickly while gaining the respect of his owner.
But there was always that one mouse that he could never catch, the one who always succeeded to foil his plans and somehow escape. That mouse was Jerry. For a brown mouse, he was very cunning. He had discovered every nook and cranny of the rickety, enabling him to slip past the devices of his feline nemesis.
Every day, he would steal food from Mammy's cupboard and was usually able to sneak away without Tom even noticing. But in the rare moments that he was caught stealing, the kitchen and on a few occasions the entire house, was turned into a train wreck, as it turned into a coercive battle between cat and mouse.
Jerry had unintentionally succeeded at making Mammy and Tom's life miserable. That was the main reason why five months ago, Mammy made the decision that she and her cat would head out to where all her hopes rested below that famous golden bridge.
So why were small pieces of food disappearing constantly if Jerry was gone? Mammy remembered throwing a fit over a misplaced chicken leg and swore that the mouse responsible for this indecency must be immediately captured and disposed of. Tom caught a gray mouse, killed it and threw the limp body out in disgust, assuming that it was the culprit.
But today, Jerry managed to hop past the sleeping Tom without his or his owner's knowledge, scavenging a few tasty morsels. As he was pilfering a grape, a small slab of ham and a dropp of water in his own mouse-sized cup; his beady eyes spotted the prize-a large wheel of cheese
Reaching for the cheese Jerry so desired, the wagon hit a bump in the road, startling both the thief and the guard now on alert. Waking abruptly from his sleep, Tom drowsily scanned their storage, sensing that something was amiss. He quickly noticed that the honeyed-ham had a small piece missing and a grape that was plucked. Shaking the remnants of a dream from his mind, Tom mused as to what was occurring before his eyes.
He had certainly not disrupted anything during his nap, Mammy obviously was not stealing snacks out of their sparse rations in between meals and there was no other soul aboard their dust-bound voyage. Narrowing his jade eyes, the gray tabby came to the conclusion that there were mindless fiends stowed away and thus, he began the prowl.
Daylight dwindled into evening tide, the murky depths of night crouching behind the beautiful view as Mammy halted the cart.
"Thomas," She contently called out, "We've found ourselves a place to sleep for tonight."
With the announcement, she bustled hastily to set up camp while light was still her ally. However, Tom did not beckon to her call, preoccupied with the target he had locked onto. Swooping like an eagle upon an unsuspecting trout, Tom pounced upon the lithe mouse about to enjoy his dinner.
She went to set up the camp for tonight; expecting Tom to come out soon. But soon afterwords, Tom finally found what he was looking for; the mouse who was stealing the foods. He immediately grabbed Jerry's body and squeezed Jerry.
With the announcement, she bustled hastily to set up camp while light was still her ally. However, Tom did not beckon to her call, preoccupied with his lock on his target Jerry. Swooping like an eagle upon an unsuspecting trout, Tom pounced upon the unaware mouse about to enjoy his dinner.
Pinning the unfed tummy within his paws, he squeezed. Before the angry cat could recline his awaiting jaws to put to end to the misery, Jerry ferociously bit Tom's thumb. Shocked due tot he pain, Tom instantly brought his injured paw to his mouth, attempting to soothe it with a kiss while dropping his victim in the process.
Instinctively, Jerry took flight but Tom shot straight after him, causing a ruckus inside the cramped wagon bed. The battle waged for a few minutes until Mammy's heated voice rang out her impatience,
"Thomas, get yer back-stabbing tail out here right now!" Grumbling while pounding he last stake to her tent into the hard-packed dirt, Mammy inwardly fumed to herself, not understanding why her pet obedient by nature was refusing to come outside. Fed up with waiting, she barreled up the peg stairs, pulled back the curtain and noticed that horrid brown mouse right in the middle of her make-shift home. She set up a wail that resounded against the canyon walls for miles at the thoughts of the mouse contaminating her foods.
The effort of the yell exhausting her sluggish form caused her to drop to the floor in a dead faint. Without wasting time, Tom grabbed the pan near him to crush Jerry in hopes of crushing the air out of that miserably thief's lungs. He flung himself after the fleeing criminal, accidentally trotting across Mammy's slumped back in his haste to scour the desert.
Swiping the pan at Jerry in his pursuit, the mouse dodged, weaved and backtracked all in the nick of time. However on one swing, he was not fast enough, the brunt end of the metal clipping the tip of his tail which sent him spiraling against a stone outcropping.
To avoid being squashed right then and there, Jerry fell down and took cover. Casting off the idea of hitting the fellow again, Tom scooped the plate up and captured him with his right hand, ignoring the fact that the mouse was not even unconscious. Tom managed to get a hold of Jerry but in doing so, he opened his left side open to an attack and it came in a flurry, a sucker punch causing Tom's teeth to comically break apart. Dropping Jerry once again to cover his mouth, Tom realized that he no longer had Jerry in his possession and quickly resumed the chase.
Hearing his tiny heart pound within his ribcage urged Jerry to scheme up a solution to his plight. When he found a place where Tom couldn't reach him, which was a small, steep cliff that was just enough for what he was looking for, Jerry nodded confidently to himself as he dashed straight to the top. This took much physical strengths and just as Jerry reached the top of the hill, the tip fell apart and he fell on his back, flat as a paper.
His body shape quickly returned to normal and just as it did, Tom quickly strike his left palm on Jerry, barely missing it and Jerry ran south west to frantically avoid capture. In the long-winded journey to find a place, both suffered from many misfortunes. Vultures were spiraling lazily above, drooping occasionally down to harass Tom who in his haste happened to bump into a cactus now and again. Jerry was no better off, sliding into a patch of quick sand one minute only to be chased down by a desert cottontail the next.
After running for so long, Jerry barely could breathe, the strain on his dehydrated form causing him to drag his feet and gasp agonizingly with each step. Hours later when he reached Green Rivers it was already dark, the faint glow emanating from the windows of quaint buildings the only exception of light besides the glimmering stars.
Beholding a quiet town shocked Jerry, the stillness a completely unknown quality to a mouse who was used to flashing lights and engines blaring despite the hour. Wandering onto split wooden boards, Jerry rapped at the nearest store. No one was about to emerge, the sign hanging from the engraved doorpost revealing that the shop was closed.
Slightly disappointed, Jerry meandered to a cross-walk only to stop dead center in the middle of the road. His panting stifled itself at the site of a ghostly apparition appearing out of the gloom. Then came along a cat.
Tiger was a portly figure, his bright orange fur contrasting sharply with the snug violet shirt tugged down past his protruding midsection. Speaking aloud, the feline apparently was lost in a world of his own, floundering with the hopes of persuading his beloved Miss Kitty to remain by his side instead of touring the country or in the very least, invest in sleep which had been eluding him all night.
A heavy paw tumbled off the crooked-laying plank sidewalk, causing the large tabby to collect his bearings. In the process of doing so, he spotted Jerry who somewhat hunched back and breathing hard yards away.
"Ah, so you're lost," Announced a wheezy voice, the statement almost in the form of a question,
"Where are you from?"
However, the flaxen-toned cat did not receive an answer, noticing the unbalanced posture and quiver of the rodent's whiskers, gestures which revealed the animal's heighten nerves and inability to cope with the stressful situation.
Inwardly sympathizing with the fatigued mouse, large brown eyes gazed towards the only lit hovel near the Mousekewitz residence,
"Don't worry little buddy, I'll find you a nice place to stay for the night where you can get some warm food and cold water. What do you say?"
Snapping from his deer in the headlights daze, Jerry irritatingly tapped a foot pad. After dealing with Tom for the past few years, he knew full well that a cat could simply betray and try to eat him at any moment. With this knowledge, it was unlikely that Jerry was going to listen let alone accept this overweight cat's preposterous offer.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Golden paws shot out in an apologetic manner after witnessing the hate-laden glance fired off at him, the stranger explaining cheerfully, "I'm not going to eat you! And I'm not part of any cat gang either, I can promise you that. Look at me, I'm your friend!"
Jerry's initial mistrust instantly was replaced with revulsive doubt, the mouse viewing this seemingly harmless arrangement as if it were a vicious cat trap in disguise. Turning on his heel, Jerry stalked away yet this time he found it harder to breathe and he could have sworn that there were dark spots circling at the corner of his retina. Regardless, he pressed onwards until the annoying cat called out passionately yet again,
"Hey! Hey you, don't just leave! All us folks from Green Rivers are nice and the cats that threatened to eat mice like you have already been scared away by Fievel."
At the peculiar name, Jerry's ears pricked up yet he continued his labored pace until the beefy giant plopped himself in front of his path, continuing his narrative enthusiastically,
"That guy is a true hero, you know. Lives around here actually-I can take you there if you like. Let me, pretty please?" A grin spread itself from one corner of the plump face to the next, somehow interweaving the cat's genuine nature while he attempted to gain the attention of the stubborn little creature refusing to consider his proposal.
Without warning, Jerry collapsed in exhaustion. Weakly, Jerry surrendered, waving an imaginary white flag with what little strength he had remaining, knowing that he would soon perish without immediate assistance. Jerry was scooped into a firm yet gentle grasp as the cat calmly attempted to comfort his natural prey,
"Hold still little guy and let ole Tiger do the rest."
Meandering through the dusty town, the orange cat walked his ward towards a small country house tucked away within the heart of Green Rivers. Along the way, Tiger briefly retold one of his many adventures he had had with the famed Fievel, reiterating in concise detail,
"...and then Fievel fired the gun with his right foot! He sure sent Cat R. Waul and his posse back to New York where they belong. Don't you fret, those back stabbers will never bother us again!" Tiger sniffed proudly, unaware that Jerry assumed that his epic tale was merely a fantasy he had formulated with the intention of bragging rights.
"The Mousekewitz are nice, you'll love them all." Tiger mentioned with a wink, affection for the family rolling through his purr. His knock on the beam was deterred by the flash of white fur strutting beneath the starlight. Suddenly anxious, Tiger rapped at the door and tumbled away from the cabin, calling back over his shoulder to his new friend,
"Well, here you go." Tiger stopped, stooping to point at an intricately carved doorway, a cherry wood plank hanging nearby revealing the surname of the quaint lodge's owner,
"We'll catch up with each other later!"
And with that, Tiger departed, leaving the lone mouse stranded at an unknown doorway with the only option of proceeding forward.
Dashing to catch up, Tiger panted heavily once he reached the side of the feline his dewy eyes had locked onto in the gloom,
"M-Miss Kitty!"
"Better catch your breath first, sugar." Emeralds flashed beneath heavy lashes coated with dark paint, eyes which Tiger glanced at thankfully, grateful for the chance to get his heart rate under control,
"Wha-what are you…you doing out so late?"
The expression that greeted him was less than pleased.
"Do you have the tendency to pry into other's business, Tiger, darling?" Although the pet name was charming, her tone was almost icy. Determination to solve an issue had arisen in her and she wanted to prevent a problem before another can of worms could be cracked open. Green Rivers already was struggling with a high ratio of kids entering the work force at an early age, unclean living conditions and a steep and unbalanced distribution of wealth between the rich and those living in poverty. Concern was obvious on her pursed features, impatience contorting her pretty face.
"I don't mean no disrespect Miss Kitty," Tiger uttered, resting his paws on his knees, "I'm just not so sure of what you're doing up so late. There is nothing to do on a Sunday night after supper and I know you don't want to be tired for your performance on Monday, right?"
"Look, we can talk in the afternoon on the morrow if you like. Right now I need to deal with something important." Quizzically, Tiger stooped up from his squatted position, whipping sweat from his brow,
"Couldn't it wait? You must be awfully tired and I'm only trying to-"
"I understand sweet cakes, but please, let this beautiful cat take care of something before the mice become lunch."
"Lunch?" Tiger scratched his head in confusion, "But those mean cats got sent off a year ago. Why would they-no, no-how could they be back?"
"I hate to break this to you, but they have owners who make trips back here every year and they have just recently returned. I do not know anything for sure honey, but my guess is that they could very well be plotting to exploit the mice."
Without another word, she sauntered away. Tiger stood rooted to the spot, shocked at what he had just heard fall from his beloved's sweet lips. Fievel, his family and friends and all the mice of Green Rivers could very well end up as table scraps in a matter of days.