7. Lime Dream
7. Lime Dream
His major problem is that his instincts are two-sided. As a feral, he's driven solely by an unknown ambition- to reach an intangible goal, perpetually driven by survival instinct and wanderlust. Though he's also inherently domestic on some level, which means there's a part of him that needs companions and wants nothing more than to have a predictable consistent life with loved ones without surprises.
Essentially, he can never truly be happy with either, and has to make a conscious effort to completely lose one and embrace the other. Obviously the domestic life is what he would choose, but denying his foundation of living in the street is like denying himself for what he really is. Thus, he chooses to live with the guilt, ultimately never completely content as homage to his roots. That's why his smile is always a little sad.
Fifi put the evaluation down for a third time that morning and sighed, turning her attention from the paper to its subject, whose form hadn't changed in the two weeks they'd been there. The purple skunk took a moment to scan the monitors. Not that she could understand the measurements, but anyone can tell if something's unusual if you look at it for half the day every day. Under the hospital bed a young kitten fidgeted, unconsciously trying to get comfortable as he slept. It was as if Sparkz was forcing himself to sleep even when he wasn't tired in an attempt to connect with his father in Subcon. It seemed to Fifi that the young cat was constantly losing the correct frequency, however.
"Good morning, Ms. Le Fume. Were you able to get some sleep?"
Fifi forced a smile, shaking her head at the nurse as she began her morning routine of changing Furrball's IV among other tasks.
"Looks like you still haven't gotten past the first page," the nurse observed, nodding at the opened folder clutched in the skunk's paws. Fifi closed the folder, quickly. Dr. Melodie had dropped a copy of the Furrball's Psych Eval four days ago but she still couldn't bring herself to finish reading it.
The nurse finished her chores with the cat and walked over to the window closing the blinds. Fifi gave the lady a quizzical look.
"Just in case you doze off in a few," she explained nodding to the bags under the skunk's eyes. Fifi smiled back for a moment before turning her attention back to her lover, who was easily doing what she should have been. Five minutes after the nurse left, her body gave out and she did just that, the eval falling to the floor.
You got somethin' ta eat?
…
Yo, you got some food? Fish bone? Mouse? Dead bird? Somethin'?
…no.
I wasn' gonna steal it, blood. Don't hafta be all uptown penthouse stylin' 'round these parts, a'ight?
I was just thinking about something.
Yeah I bet you gots a lot on yo mind now.
…
Pro'lly kickin' yoself in the ass for f'ning that whole Hollywood sh*t up, huh?
…wait, huh?
I mean half of us, yeah we gots ta give you yo props for stayin' a true soldier. But damn, man. You give me the choice, I would've been all "Peace muthas" in a heartbeat ta get off the streets and have a family and sh*t, nowhati'm sayin'?
What?
Hey, that's yo business though, cat. Just don't think the others' gonna roll out a red carpet for you just cuz you slummin' it tryin' ta be one of us again. Cuz you ain't. Not no mo.
?
As of old, asleep, or even in a coma, a cat from the street is never truly asleep. His ears indicated labored breath from below. Sparkz. And a peculiar, yet subtle snore from the right. Fifi. His other senses indicated that the room was devoid of any conscious life form, so Furrball opened his eyes slowly, trying to keep the monitors at the same level, lest anyone figure out his deception.
The cat swallowed hard, seeing the look of anguish on his bride-to-be's face. He wanted nothing more than to touch her face and let her know that it was all going to be alright, but this was impossible currently. It was pride more than anything. His body refused to budge for the most part. He'd slipped in and out of consciousness at a whim and he couldn't physically do anything yet. He didn't want anyone knowing he was aware of the state he was in until he was strong enough to move on his own accord again. Then he'd open his eyes and the clichéd 'miraculous recovery' would jumpstart their way to the altar.
The altar.
Another reason he'd stayed away from contact outside his head. There was no doubt in his mind, his feelings for Fifi…. But his subconscious had been subjecting him to various scenarios of a life he'd all but forgotten and acquaintances he'd rather have not made leading to conversations that indicated imminent failure of his life in the norm.
Furrball's thoughts led to the reason he was incapacitated in the first place. He had to catch the roar churning in his belly before it reached his throat. In a fair fight, he'd have…
"Everything's fair in a fight, blood."
The words put him off-balance, just before he started to hate the canine species exclusively. Those words… they'd haunted him every so often. Came from the Manx he was locked up with for half a month in the pound as a kitten. Furrball couldn't even remember the cat's name, but his body still had ghost pains whenever it snowed, as it remembered how the Manx had tortured him every minute they'd spent together. Yes, all animals were cruel when they wanted to be. Not just the dogs.
He felt it coming; tried to fight it, but it was too strong. His body told him to go back to sleep. He didn't want to in this state. It wasn't advisable to go to sleep recalling shady visions of an old nemesis. And yet, just as he'd been in the cage and in the more recently, in the van, Furrball was powerless to stop the sleep from coming.
Fifi's eyes shot open almost exactly when Furrball's shut. Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, Fifi leaned over Furrball for a moment. Sighing for the fiftieth time that week, she sat back in her chair, checking on Sparkz for a moment. The skunk had a vision in her sleep that followed her to her conscious state. Pausing for a moment, she decided to confess to her love even if he couldn't hear. Perhaps because he couldn't hear.
"I did a few commercials our senior year," she began, as it all slowly came back to her. "Met a few producers, much better networking than I would've had just going to class."
Fifi looked to see if her voice had brought about a change in the cat. As usual, there was nothing. Sighing for the fifty-first time, she continued. "I had this supporting role lined up in a feature Michigan. They said I didn't even have to do a reading to get the part. I just had to show up," Fifi's face darkened as a shadow seemed to fall on Furrball.
"The studio had gone belly-up three hours before I even got off the bus. That was about the time when mom and dad were talking about actually separating and dad invested most of the money in Haiti. I was counting on the film to pay my bills, so when I returned to California, I was flat-broke."
A nurse walked by, pausing at the door. Fifi forced a smile and the nurse continued on her rounds.
"I didn't worry too much, since I knew there were jobs in California. But all of a sudden, all my contacts didn't want anything to do with me. Every time I went to try out, I was cut almost before I even finished my readings…" Fifi's voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper now.
"So I was standing outside a department store, wondering if I should try to get a normal job when he showed up." The skunk paused, waiting to see if the feline would give a reaction. She waited a few minutes just to be safe.
"I told him about my problems and my plans to work in the mall or something. He laughed and said he had an escort service and would pay me more than I could ever make in a film. I told him to get lost, then he swore he'd treat me right. No touching, no nothing, you know? And for some reason…" The skunk buried her face in her paws until realization hit her. "…I'll bet he had some dirt on those casting directors and had my career sabotaged from the start…" The skunk stood up, pulling the blinds, letting the light penetrate the room.
Glancing at the watch of a sitting commuter, the young cat sighed quietly to himself. 11:30. That meant the ceremony had already started. Not that he cared… the cat's eyes landed on the rolled up piece of thick paper for the sixth time since he'd gotten on the red line. He wondered why he'd even bothered to swipe it before slipping away. What the hell good was a diploma going to do someone like him, anyway?
Furrball took a moment to scan the car. Ever since the stop at Santa Monica, he'd felt eyes on him from somewhere. No one was really watching him, though. Probably wishful thinking on his part. The metro stopped for MacArthur Park and Furrball started to get out, giving the car one last glance.
As fate would have it, it wasn't until he stepped out of the car that they even locked eyes.
Wasn't until the door did the first fake close that he realized her facial features were incredibly familiar.
Wasn't until the door closed for the last time that they reached out to touch one another when the car took off for good.
The cat stayed, plastered in that spot on the platform for the rest of the day on the odd chance that she'd show up somehow. When the metro rent-a-cop showed up to tell him to leave, Furrball was beside himself.
"The hell you waitin' for? Go home, already."
What the hell indeed.
M-m-ma?
It was inevitable, His body wanted his mind to stop pretending and now he was caught.
"What was that, chéri?"
Furrball opened his eyes to find Fifi calmly stroking his brow. It confused him, really. He'd expected her to go into conniptions. This was too calm. Too surreal too.
"N-nothing," he managed before letting his thoughts streamline him into the oblivion of self-pity.
Fifi stretched a bit, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.
"Welcome back," she continued, feeling the warmth of his cheek. "You were crying in your sleep. Must have been a sad dream."
"Nah, I just missed you, that's all."
Summoning all his strength, the cat raised his head and flexed his shoulders, allowing him to sit up in bed, unassisted. The skunk stood wide-eyed, visibly impressed.
"What's that?" Furrball nodded to a huge get-well card resting on a tripod at the foot of his bed.
"What's it look like, silly?" Fifi retrieved the card, opening it for the patient to see. A cluster of signatures, incoherent notes and doodles covered the paper front and back. Furrball scanned the writing, but his confused expression didn't wane.
"It's a get-well card," Fifi explained, pointing to a few signatures.
"Everyone has been worried sick about you. Even Plucky's been here five times!"
"For what?" Legitimate confusion dripped from his voice.
"To see you get better! What else?"
I dunno, pull the plug?
"Hmm?"
"Nothin'," Furrball looked away, feeling guilty about his quiet cynicism.
Four weeks of rehab made Furrball strong enough to walk completely unassisted. The couple had postponed the wedding to the weekend after his rehab had finished; neither one wanted Furrball to be using a walker to make his way down the aisle. While the physical therapy clinic focused on the cat's physical health, Sylvester tried his hand at the feline's mental stability. It was plain as day to see how dejected Furrball was becoming day by day. Most chocked it up to his inability to protect his love but this wasn't the case at all. Another thing was causing his despondency…something much more complex than damaged pride. The tuxedo cat knew it well…it was ultimately something he'd have to go through on his own and there wasn't much time left for the cat's consciousness to discover the weight that was mounting on his mind.
Of course, Fifi had been a good sport about it, as usual, knowing what to expect from Furrball and when to give him space. After all, it wasn't as if she were marrying Hamton. But still… it'd taken its toll. The marriage was meant to mend this, heal all and turn them into something new altogether. That was the truth Fifi had to believe in… had to bet on. The only truth either one of them had left. And at the end of the day, it wasn't too hard to grasp onto. It seemed utterly impossible that all they'd been through and all the changes they'd both made had truly been for naught. Unfathomable, really.
Really.
Go ahead and leave with Professor Sly, I'll catch up with you at the church, okay? And don't forget what you promised.
'No slashing the guests that call me adorable.'
That's right. Now go ahead, because you've got a huge job today, Mr. Ring Bearer.
Can I be a ring cat instead? I'm not a bear.
Get going, wise-guy.
Okay, papa. Sarang hae!
Love you too, Sparkz.
Papa?
Yeah?
You look like a penguin in those clothes.
Yeah?
It's not bad, though.
Thanks, kiddo. Now get goin' ya hear?
Yessir!
The blue cat smiled as his young charge scrambled out the door, leaving him to his thoughts once again. Fifi was already waiting. She and Shirley had left that morning to coordinate wardrobes, whatever that meant. He'd only caught a quick glimpse of her before she left but she seemed to be glowing as she walked. Calamity was already at the church as well, directing the ushers and such. All he was supposed to do was show up and say 'I do.' Simple enough.
Furrball stepped outside as soon as he heard Sylvester's tires screeching for the second time. It was time to walk the chosen path.
It was a good fifty-five minute walk to get to the church, which would have taken about five minutes by car, factoring in streetlights and stop signs. The world was constantly in fast forward to get to nowhere and there was still a very predominant portion of Furrball's personality that resented this. Setting off on a backstreet, the feline felt a tad strange and out of place, all dressed up. Taking in his surroundings with all the cat's senses, Furrball was suddenly grateful that he'd been a stray growing up in uptown Fresno rather than a slum like this place. The streets are the streets to those not from the streets, but the difference are as clear as night and day to a survivor.
Spying a half-broken fire escape ladder near him, Furrball couldn't resist the urge to jump to it pulling himself up to the platform with a flip for good measure. Surveying the area, he noticed a fellow feline in the distance, backing up against a dead-end. Scaling up the gutter drain to a higher level, Furrball crept to the end of the building to get a closer look. He found it odd that he couldn't detect the other feline's scent in the least bit. What he could sense, set him on edge however. Three menacing bull dogs, seemingly equally in the dark about the cat's smell haphazardly closed in on it, boxing the feline into the alley.
Groaning, Furrball grabbed the ledge in frustration. There wasn't any time to be playing public defender. That's when the felines made eye contact. The blue cat was immediately awe-struck. Something piercing emitted from the other's lime-green eyes that caused Furrball's knees to begin knocking. He then noticed the tail which seemed to be at least two lengths longer than the silver cat's body. Furrball cocked his head as the other seemed to be asking what he was waiting for as the dogs closed in further. Pulling a loose bar from the fire escape, he tossed it towards the dogs, knocking over a nearby trash can, causing a huge din. This distraction gave the other just enough time to maneuver past the canines to initiate the pursuit.
Moments later, all of the animals were nothing more than a faint memory as their barks and meow faded into the more prevalent sounds of the city. Furrball sighed, dangling his legs over the edge of the platform, only to find that the top button on his tuxedo had broken off and committed suicide.
"CAW! CAW!"
The noise startled the blue cat so much that he nearly fell off the railing, going the way of his button. Furrball instinctively swung at the nearby crow who didn't even bat an eye lid. The black bird stared at him, eyes narrowing as if to ask the cat what he was waiting for.
I don't have tim-…
If the blue one had learned one thing from living on the streets it was that arguing with yourself is the first step in accomplishing nothing. Growling slightly as he picked himself up, Furrball took off in the general direction of the chase.
It didn't take long to find the pursuit. The dogs reeked something awful and continuously knocked over cans and other items as they hunted the long-tailed feline. Furrball had opted to take the high road, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, keeping up rather effectively in the process. When the chase led to a second alley, the quarry suddenly lost its footing, skidding into a wall and twisted an ankle. The canines, in hot pursuit, wasted no time in capitalizing on their good fortune, methodically slowing down and flanking out, causing the cat to hobbled down the alley. Furrball gasped, seeing no real way for the cat to escape this time and started making his way down to the ground level. The other cat limped into an open dumpster in a last-ditch effort to hide, but the dogs were not fooled by this, dropping the huge door shut with the feline inside. Furrball cringed, remembering the horrible feeling of being trapped in a dumpster and quickened his step as the dogs took turns ramming the receptacle with the cat inside for good measure. Without a second thought, Furrball leapt down atop the dumpster, crouching low, eyes narrowing, daring the dogs to smash into the garbage another time. The bulldogs stopped in their tracks, sizing the blue feline up for a second. Before Furrball could plan his next move, he felt heavy paws on his back as a canine knocked him to the dirty floor, landing on his back. He felt the tuxedo ripping slightly in the back and tried to turn over, but the canine was too heavy and stamped his shoulder blade, seemingly aware that it was still healing. Furrball gritted his teeth looking up to find the two others grinning maliciously at him. Instinct started to kick in as the cat began to lose control of his actions.
Caught me on a bad day.
Sinking his claws deep into a paw that held him down, Furrball tossed the first mutt into the others a leaped to his feet, allowing the momentum to sling shot him past the three, claws drawn. Blood sprayed by at a half second delay as the canines knelt down, all cut by Furrball's claws. Looking over his shoulder as his television counterpart would have done after a duel, Furrball snarled, causing the three dogs to scamper away, tails between their legs. Furrball looked down noticing that his pants were also now torn up at the ends.
"Damn it," he murmured to himself, approaching the closed dumpster. It took most of the cat's strength to pry the dumpster open and the odor emitting from the receptacle made him nauseous. Only nightmares; no fond memories were associated with the smell and the cat hesitated to inspect the garbage when the other feline didn't immediately emerge from it. After ten minutes of rummaging through the container, Furrball realized that he was alone. The other had disappeared somehow. Could it have opened the door from the inside and escaped unnoticed so quickly during the duel? Highly unlikely… Furrball looked down at his watch noticing he didn't have time to be pondering this. Searching around wildly, he headed for a public fountain as he discarded what was left of his monkey suit.
The End- Part 7
Guess i lied. i felt it necessary to split the ending into two chapters after all. Didn't want this chapter getting too long, splitting the focus of the conclusion… Sorry it's taking so long to get the ending, but i REALLY want to work out well, so it's taking a lot longer than i had anticipated… Chapter 8 should be coming soon since i know exactly how it'll finish now… unless something else changes?
