The Glamour Cat's Tale
By Rheow (Eline)
Part One: The Budding Rose
Walk with me now,
Dance with me now,
Forget the cares of today,
Look not for tomorrow.
This is the story of Grizabella--Glamour Cat, drifter, outcast and a hundred other titles contained in within. We begin with the time when she was once one of the Jellicles . . .
* * * * * * *
The grey tabby queen who nursed her kitten in the shelter of the old oven was one of few endearing sights to be seen during the autumn months. She was a lovely creature and her son would certainly turn out a handsome tom if he followed his mother.
Many queens and toms had came up to her to congratulate the happy mother and see her brood. All praised kit and dam. Grizabella smiled and thanked them all graciously. When they had gone, she wondered why her tribe was so much more approving of her as a mother.
Grizabella had been the last queen any cat thought would have made a good mother. She knew the other queens didn't like her flirtatious ways and how she could wind any tom around her tail in a matter of seconds. It could be because she was popular amongst her own tribe and had a great many friends in other parts of town. Or it could be because of her beauty--it was a fact that she shone like a star amidst the dark hollows of Junkyard. No other queen had such large striking eyes, such a finely marked coat or her natural grace. And her voice . . .
It was oft requested at any gathering and more recently at the Jellicle Ball. She had been asked to sing solo a few months back and any cat who had not known of her silvery voice were astounded.
The time of mating and choosing mates had passed and she had received so many proposals that every other queen was sick with envy. But Grizabella had disappeared for some time, only to come back after two weeks--no different from the Glamour Cat she had always been and still mateless. Well, not entirely unchanged--she had been with kit. No amount of cajoling from any queen would make her divulge the identity of her secret paramour. And she had said it had been just a brief affair and neither parties wanted to make any promises.
She broke off from her musings to look down fondly at her kit. The tom did not resemble his father very much . . .
"Grizabella, can I come in?" asked a soft voice at the door of the oven. It was one of the kittens--just a bit older than her own.
"Of course, Jelly," she said and the lightly-marked queen stepped gingerly inside.
"Oh, he's' so cute!" said Jellylorum. "What's his name?"
"Derrelldare," Grizabella replied. She let Jelly play with her kits for a while, and soon after, another pair of cats came to visit.
"It's Deuteronomy and Serena," said Jelly after sticking her head out of the oven.
Grizabella greeted the Jellicle Leader--just appointed at the last ball--and his mate warmly. Serena fussed over the kit and the usual exchange of pleasantries took place.
"I hope to have kittens next year," Serena said shyly.
"Of course you will, my dear, of course you will," Grizabella assured her. "You will make her happy, won't you, Ronnie?"
Deuteronomy would have flushed at the use of the pet name when he was just another young tom that she flirted with not so long ago, but he was Leader now and he only grinned indulgently. Serena had recently accepted his proposal after two months of courtship and they were still basking in the euphoria common to a newly mated couple.
"You certainly are a fickle one, Griz," said Deuteronomy. "Will you ever settle down even after this?"
"Oh, maybe," she teased and Serena had another go at urging her to bring back the father of the kittens to join the tribe.
"He's a free-spirit--like me," Grizabella told them coyly. "We're not exactly for commitment on the whole. Maybe some day I'll find a tom who would sweep me off my paws and--"
"And you won't be a Glamour Cat?" Deuteronomy asked, half in jest. They all knew how fond she was of her title as the most well liked and well-received cat hereabouts.
The Jellicle Leader and his mate left soon after that and only Jellylorum saw the strange look on Grizabella's face as she watched them go.
"What's the matter?" she asked innocently.
"Nothing, my dear, nothing at all," Grizabella said with a winning smile. "Would you like to come over and play with Derrell tomorrow?"
"I can? Thanks!"
* * * * * * *
We have to add *mother* to Grizabella's titles now. She loved her kitten dearly, but something in her nature just wasn't cut out to be a mother. The cat's curiosity was especially strong in this queen and she had the attention span of a butterfly when it came to day-to-day matters.
Another skill she had in abundance was the gift of the gab and a flair for drama. Even Gus never knew what a good performance she had put on for the greater part of her life . . .
* * * * * * *
The Jellicles were more than a little surprised to see Grizabella out and about four weeks later. Of course kittens had to learn independence, but it wasn't wise for a mother to go gallivanting all about town while her kit romped in the Junkyard under the eyes of the queens on kitten-sitting duties.
"She don't seem ta want ta take care o' the barnes," remarked a ginger queen named Rhea. She had volunteered to be one of the cats who took turns caring for the kittens as her son had been recently been adopted by a human at the Railway Station. As the man had impressed her as the responsible sort, she had quite been happy and proud to let her young Skimbleshanks be a future Railway Cat.
"I s'pose tha' Great Effuhlarstin' Cat fergot tha' mothahrin' *hinstincts* when that one wuz born," said a young patchy brown, orange and white queen who was washing one of the kits under her care.
"That's such a mean thing to say!" exclaimed Serena. "Why, some other outisder cats don't even do that for their kits!"
"Could be the truth, though," said Serena's mother, Lydiana. "She's not the type--I've seen it before."
They were partly right, of course. Grizabella had always felt that caring for kits was not her role--and besides, Derrell was already weaned and ready to go out into the world. He had been caught trying to sneak out of the Junkyard twice already and proved to be one of the most adventurous of his generation.
Currently, Derrell was playing with friends of a similar age. Their mother was out with her girlfriends from across town. If she had heard what the other queens had been saying about her, she would have shrugged it off and forgotten about in a minute for she was not one for grudges.
Grizabella was no shrinking violet. She had the "lust for life" ever since she was a kitten. She was, what, two years old--and they expected her to become a matron! Some cats, she reflected, had been born to be mothers--that Jellylorum was one of them. Others were born Glamour Cats--beautiful, bold and impossible to tie down.
In a house on Reagent Street was where she would be found that day--Phyllis the resident Smokey Persian had invited her to a sort of party. Grizabella was a most charming queen; most of the guests knew her and wished to keep her as a friend. Quite a few toms were also attracted to her--as mentioned before--and Phyllis knew that her little gatherings would be successful whenever Grizabella was present.
One particular tom by the name of Errolyre had approached Grizabella and was regaling her little circle of queens with the tales of his travels.
Of course, it was mainly Grizabella he was interested in. Errol noted how her eyes sparkled when she laughed her light, tinkling laugh. How witty she could be . . .
He was, in short, falling in love. This, by the way, happened to a great many toms after getting a full dose of Grizabella the Glamour Cat.
After the soiree, he offered to walk her home. That was the start of many other walks and Errol was soon bound and determined to win Grizabella's heart.
A month later, he had persuaded Grizabella to go a-wandering with him. Needless to say, the Jellicle tribe was rather shocked by this.
"Surely you don't mean to say you're leaving for good?" asked Deuteronomy in concern.
"I don't know--I always wanted to see what lay beyond the city," the Glamour Cat said, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of adventure. "Don't worry about me, Ronnie, I'll be fine!"
And that was proven many times on her journey. She and Errol took a train going north, stopping at different towns to see the sights or meet new cats. It was a heady experience for the queen and a most joyful time for Errol too as they romped through country fields, chased pigeons and explored ancient ruins.
There came a time, however, when Errol asked Grizabella to settle down with him in a picturesque little township near the coast. This happy state of affairs lasted about a year and Grizabella had a fine litter of kittens. It was the talk of the town when Errol passed away after an unfortunate accident with a tour bus and Grizabella left the town soon after.
If she had been questioned, she would have said that her kittens all had good humans and there was nothing left for her there. She had been fond of Errol, but now with his passing to the Heavyside Layer, she had felt the familiar pull of the Glamour Cat's life again.
* * * * * * *
Part Two: The Rose in the Sun
I may laugh and sing today,
But there is that spectre behind me,
Closing with passing day--Oh!
I feel it's chill breath on my nape!
Grizabella's return to the city was the cause for a great deal of speculation in many feline circles. Instead of returning to her former tribe, she elected to make her home with a human family and settled into her former carefree life once more.
There were parties and gatherings a-plenty and Grizabella was still as popular as ever. Then like a weathercock changing direction as the wind goes, she suddenly began an acquaintance with a different group of cats. Mathernon and his cronies were not exactly walking the straight and narrow path--in fact, there was some suspicion of involvement in theft and other felonies.
Mathernon, a tom in his prime, was very much taken with Grizabella. He showered her with gifts and attention, intending to make her his mate. Our Glamour Cat saw the rough charm of this tom and began to feel content again.
It was a bad time when Mather came back with scars of brutal fights and Grizabella got worried. When word got out of Mather's gang being embroiled in various territorial disputes and the death of a rival cat, Griz took off like a shot, never to return.
* * * * * * *
Live vicariously--that might have been her motto, but she was the honest sort and Mather's activities were not to her liking. Naturally, the tom was not pleased and spent some time grousing over it to all his cronies until he found a lovely, placid queen who was willing to settle down with him (but that's another story altogether). Now, what of Grizabella?
* * * * * * *
Standing at the gates of the Junkyard, Grizabella looked upon her old home with a fond feeling of nostalgia.
"Come now," she said to the two kittens who huddled against her legs. "This is the Junkyard, the centre of Jellicle life. We must find a cat--"
"Good day," said a queen, suddenly appearing on the other side of the fence. "I'm sure I--Grizabella?"
"Jellylorum," Grizabella greeted.
"Why--I mean what--" Jelly began, obviously flustered.
"Julian, Julianna, this is Jellylorum." She nudged her kits forward. "I know there's been things certain things said about me that haven't been very flattering," she said to the other queen bluntly, "and I know I might not be welcome here, but I'm asking you for a favour--as a former Jellicle to another. My kittens--I want them to be true Jellicles."
"What about yourself?" Jelly asked, looking her up and down. Grizabella had not aged visibly in the past few years--she was still a stunning queen.
"I am well enough, Jelly. My life goes on," Grizabella replied ambiguously. Turning to her kittens, she licked them gently and said, "This is your home now, do as Jellylorum says and don't get into any trouble. Maybe you might see your older brother--Derrell--"
"Derrell's left us," Jellylorum said quietly. "He didn't like to stay in one place much."
"I suppose it was the adventurous streak I passed on," Grizabella said after a silent pause. "Good bye now . . ."
"Mama!" cried the queen kitten as she saw her mother walking away. The male was too much of a tom to cry, but the suspicious glint of wetness was there all the same as he too watched the retreating back of Grizabella the Glamour Cat.
"Come on, dear," Jellylorum said awkwardly. She was not used to dealing with kittens that had been so openly abandoned by their mother. "Come along and I'll take you to see Old Deuteronomy."
The kittens looked back to where Grizabella had been one more time and followed the adult queen into the Junkyard.
* * * * * * *
For Grizabella, life went on. She laughed, danced and sang with her friends, apparently without a care in the world.
Then there was that ill-timed affair with the leader of a small group of cats over at Henely Street. There had been another queen involved. It blew over quickly enough, but the close friends of the other queen called her a dog in a manger and a home-wrecker--and those were the more polite terms. Grizabella never associated with them again.
There were several other groups of cats she stayed with after that. One tribe kicked her out because the queen who was the mate of the leader was terribly insecure and had heard of her exaggerated reputation. She never lasted long with the younger clans, for she was getting along in years.
Left on her own, Grizabella sought the company of cats her age. After an initial debate over her presence, the small community of felines living in a weedy old allotment on Tottenham Court Road accepted her. The leader Amaneth saw that she seemed content to just have company to talk to and let her stay.
For Grizabella, it was just a reflection of her glory days. She could still hold an audience or a gossip circle but she feared the turn of the seasons and regarded her fading allure with secret alarm. It was perhaps this factor that made her particularly competitive during the mating season and she certainly wasn't very popular after that.
The pangs of longing she felt for her original family increased with time. She was very curious indeed when one of her friends told her that her son was very much taken with a queen from the Jellicle tribe.
"Charles has his heart set on her," said Endora--a motherly queen of her circle--fondly of her boy. "And she's of Old Deuteronomy's line, a most respectable family."
"Yes, of course," Grizabella replied, pride for her clan warring with the darker emotions that arose after Endora's words. "What's her name?"
"Elisha--I've seen her, a very polite girl," Endora gushed. "And Charlie can't hang around us old folks any more, he's got to have his own life now."
"So he's joining the Jellicles?"
"Why, yes . . ."
And so Grizabella went after Endora and her son Charlie for news of her tribe quite often. They humoured her for they could see how much she missed her former home.
Asides from those distractions, Grizabella often tried to find her old friends. Many had moved away or passed on. There were so few cats left who remembered Grizabella the Glamour Cat's heyday. It was after one of these trips to investigate her old haunts that tragedy struck.
Grizabella returned to the allotment that day to find not a cat in sight. Anxiously searching every corner of what had been her home, she detected new scents--humans and their vehicles mingled with that of the cats who had lived there.
Only later did she find out from the next nearest tribe that the stray-catchers had been making their rounds and most of Amaneth's group had been taken.
She found only a queen known as Pherya hidden in an old blocked drain, literally quaking with fear. Pherya had ran at the first sight of the humans and she was unable to tell Grizabella much about the abduction of the rest of their small community. After that, the two queens stuck close to each other and attempted to get by as best they could. Grizabella did not like to be alone and Pherya--well, Pherya found it very hard to adjust without the others.
About a month after the stray-catchers had came, Grizabella was returning to the garret she and Pherya were sharing when she stopped by an alley that backed a construction site. She had heard something that sounded like mice in a rubbish heap and the thought of a nice plump rodent for dinner made her mouth water.
Assuming stealth of a hunting predator, she stalked the noise amidst the rubble and pounced. It was not a young mouse, so it did not react as quickly as it should. Grizabella had it pinned and was about to kill it when a Pollicle, also drawn by the mice, entered the alley.
It started barking at her--for absolutely no good reason as far as she could see--and leapt--
Grizabella was not going to let some upstart dog deprive her of the first good meal in a long time and she hissed at it, bringing out her claws to give it a good scratch.
The Pollicle yelped and bowled her over. It was either too stupid to be intimidated or very sure of its own prowess. They scrapped and Grizabella knew that she could not keep it up forever. The dog was young and she wasn't as spry as she used to be.
Their scuffle brought them near the scaffolding at the back of the alley and somehow, they bumped into the metal structure and dislodged a number of planks that were leaning against it.
The Pollicle ran as did the queen. But Griz was not fast enough and the end of one plank came down on her, trapping one leg underneath it.
She called for help--seemingly for ages--before any came. It was a human, whispering soothing words to her as the plank was moved aside and she was picked up in gentle hands.
The human brought her to a nearby flat--small but neat. It was warm and Grizabella was given a box padded with towels for a bed. She fell asleep despite the pain in her limb, drifting into a blissful darkness where the cold, the hunger and the loneliness did not intrude.
After that, Grizabella lived with the kind human, an elderly lady who liked cats and appreciated feline companionship. Her leg healed with time and she could still walk, but there was a stiffness that did not fade away, thus limiting her agility. It was a quiet life and Grizabella thought she could stop her wandering, for she was tired of being a drifter. She did go back to find Pherya to share her new home, but the other queen was no where to be found.
It was a dreary, rainy morning when her human did not wake up. Grizabella waited by the bed for hours before accepting that yet another one she had cared for was gone. With a heavy heart, the queen returned to the streets to fend for herself once more.
She grew thinner and her appearance suffered. No tribe of cats wanted her. The young strays jeered at her, saying that a snail could move faster and how useless she was. Even the house cats didn't like her near their territory.
Slowly, Grizabella began to frequent the streets of ill-repute, drifting from one place to another and being chased away everywhere. The other cats shunned her, telling tales of her former wanton ways to their kittens. She could only stare at the happiness and joy that existed for others and move on, always alone.
Once she came across Charlie when she was near the old allotment. After his mother had been taken by the stray-catchers, he seldom came back to his old home so it was a surprise for both parties. He seemed uncomfortable around her, but did pass on some news. Old Deuteronomy had another mate and the Jellicles had recently experienced some trouble--the details he did not give but she knew that some cats had been exiled because of it.
"I-I don't know how to tell you this," Charlie said after searching in vain for a way to avoid Grizabella's sad gaze. "But your daughter--Julianna, she's dead!"
"Dead? What about Julian?"
"Gone before I ever met Elisha--they say he's a wanderer like his elder brother--"
"Derrell, yes . . . I shan't keep you any longer then. I hope your mate and your kits are well." And after Charlie left, Grizabella mourned her offspring, wondering how a mother could outlive her children . . .
* * * * * * *
Part Three: The Faded Rose in Exile
Tomorrow has come upon me,
That monster Time has ravaged me,
There is nothing more left,
But the bittersweet memories.
Grizabella . . . You lived to live and let none near your vulnerable heart. But where are you now? There, in the shadows, I see movement . . .
The wind was brisk and chilly, ruffling her dusty fur as she limped down the pavement in the twilight hours of the day. Leaves and old papers swirled into her path but she cared not a whit. Pausing by some rubbish bins, the old decrepit queen poked about for an edible scrap, but if there had been any at all, younger and faster cats had taken them.
She looked up at the moon as if bemoaning her fate and felt an old but familiar prickle run through her frail body. Sure it could not be--
But there it was again. There was no mistaking it--tonight was the night of the Jellicle Ball! And her sore feet had taken her close enough to the Junkyard--surely a coincidence?
For so many years she had felt the sure pull of the moon on this night--and it was always then that she had felt so alone even while basking in her circle of friends. It had became worse when she became a pariah--she was well and truly on her own now.
But the Jellicle Ball . . .
Her paws shifted themselves and she went past the Russell Hotel--still there after all these years--to the alley that offered a limited view of the Junkyard through an old wire fence. Pressing her face to the cold metal, her ears pricked up at the sound of singing. It was like nectar, those sounds of revelry that she had known for so long . . .
The yearning rose within her and the gaping holes in the fence beckoned so temptingly . . . Throwing all caution to the wind, the old queen entered the Junkyard. Creeping through the human detritus, she peered out from behind some old bedsteads and saw them.
Staring with unalloyed delight at the festive scene before her, the grey queen tried to spot a familiar face--and failed. Who were all these young cats? There was Jellylorum and Jenny, Skimbleshanks as well--but what of Neralies, Rhea, Lydiana and the others?
They were the kittens of her generation's kittens, she realised slowly. These were perhaps all that were left of her friends . . . If only she could join them, greet them, see how much they looked like the cats of her time . . .
Could she?
At the end of one particularly virile tomcat's song, she slipped out of her hiding place, inching closer to the crowd.
That tall tomcat spotted her and halted in mid-strut. With a disdainful look, he turned his back on her and left. By then, the others had also seen her and the adults meet her with sneers and scowls. Her reputation had preceded her, it seemed.
But it was too late to back out now. Gathering all her nerve, she forged ahead. A lovely young queen was about to greet her when Jennyanydots--Jenny of all cats--dragged her away. Another tortoiseshell queen looked like she wanted to touch her, but shied away quickly.
At last, she faced the youth who seemed to be the leader, searching his face. He looked so much like Julian--and of course, Julianna--his mother--
Which made him her grandson--a grandson who would not acknowledge her.
"Remark the cat, who hesitates towards you . . ." she sang, mocking their stares and their obvious disdain.
"Grizabella the Glamour Cat . . ." some queens hissed back. "Who would ever suppose that *that*, was Grizabella the Glamour Cat?"
With the tatters of her dignity firmly in hand, she stalked out, aware of the eyes that watched her stiff gait.
But she did not leave--she hid again and spied upon the Jellicles. That Bustopher Jones came along--he was even fatter and sleeker than before--and his welcome was far warmer than hers had been. Then after the dance of a pair of cats she did not recognise, the kittens and adults looked out expectantly, waiting.
She knew who it was--Deuteronomy, the Leader and Jellicle patriarch, probably related to every single cat in the Junkyard in some way or other. And beloved by all . . .
The kittens flocked around him excitedly and the purring sounded like miniature engines starting up. It was time to begin the Ball.
The scene that played before her was one that she had dreamed of so many times in the lonely nights. "Jellicle Cats come one, come all--Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball!" She had experienced the spell of the moon that had them dancing like mad creatures, known the unexplainable urge to rejoice . . . but now she was not one of them, but an outsider--a thief, stealing a glimpse of something denied to her by her own folly.
Some cat--that black and white tom--hissed at her and she realised that she had crept out of her hiding place unknowingly to see the Ball better. Backing away, she still could see the Jellicles' dance reach a fever pitch. Entranced, she could only stare as Jellicles of all kinds turned the Junkyard into a whirling kaleidoscope of colour and movement.
She could not help herself anymore--she wanted to be down there with them . . . Her slow steps brought her out just as the cats finished their grand dance. Again, she was rewarded for her pains by hisses.
"She haunted many a low resort . . ." a queen began to sing.
Her years as a drifter had also reached their ears, along with a great many unsavoury pieces of information. "Who would ever suppose that *that*, was Grizabella the Glamour Cat?" they asked before turning tail, as if her very presence tainted them.
Alone, she looked up at the moon.
*I'll dance for you again . . .*
Try as she might, the grace of the younger cats was beyond her. She was no longer as spry as she was before--who was she trying to fool? Only herself. There was no return to her heyday, no return to the happiness that was once hers.
Turning her face to the uncaring moon, she sang instead. At least her voice had not deserted her.
No cat heard her--no cat save for Old Deuteronomy. If she had turned around, she might have seen her old friend reaching for her--but it was not meant to be.
With nary a sigh, she went on her way again. Pausing in the light of a street-lamp, she noticed a puddle of rainwater underneath and bent to lap at the cool but clear liquid. She had not had such a clean drink of water for days now.
After assuaging her thirst, she made to leave, but caught sight of her reflection in the natural mirror. Going closer, she stared in disgust at the dirty old creature who peered up at her. Being a former Jellicle, she knew about mirrors and reflections--which did not comfort her one bit at this time.
Her coat was torn and matted, tangled with assorted grass stalks and clumps of mud. No longer the graceful cat who had danced at the Jellicle Balls, this queen had a limp and aching, inflamed joints.
Grizabella the Glamour Cat almost could not recognise herself. Time had done its worst and malnutrition along with her injury had taken their toll. Gone was beauty, all that was left was this old hag--no wonder the others looked at her in scorn, probably thinking that it served her right for her past.
She shuddered and turned away, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Find a place to spend the night--the cold made her bad leg ache so . . . There was an old rubbish heap nearby, if her memory served her right--yes, there it was.
Huddled in the rank darkness of an old box, Grizabella resisted the stirring of the moon-magic inside her blood. But it was unbearable. That siren song called to her, so much more irresistible than any other Ball. With a despairing cry, Grizabella waded out of her makeshift shelter and headed for the Junkyard again, driven by the sudden wild urgency that gripped her.
*Hurry*, a voice inside her seemed to say as she dragged her bad leg along as fast as she could.
She *had* to make them see her for what she really was. Grizabella knew that they might never forgive her--but she had to try. Bracing herself again, she limped out towards the cats grouped about Old Deuteronomy.
The sound of a cat hissing at her broke the silence of the moment and the Jellicles withdrew to their own perches about the Junkyard. Some presented their backs towards her, refusing to even meet her gaze.
There was no turning back now. Armed with the one treasure that was still hers, Grizabella began to sing . . .
* * * * * * *
And so it was only at end of that Jellicle Ball that the Jellicles found it within themselves to accept Grizabella--her faults and her fallacies a thing of the past--and they knew the unalloyed joy that had always been the core of her battered but unbroken spirit. After all her trials and tribulations, she could now shine in the Everlasting Cat's glory, never to be forgotten again.
But as the stars are going out
and this stage is full of nothing
and the friends have all but gone
for my life my god I'm singing . . .
Lyrics from "Stars" by Dubstar.
* * * * * * *