Chapter Ten
Teathrice's sleep was filled with fevered dreams of screeches and the sensation of fire on her skin. As she drifted back into consciousness, she heard a soothing voice, felt a gentle caress on her face. She slowly opened her eyes to see Tantomile's face looming in front of her.
"It's alright, you're safe now," the black and white queen whispered, her paw still on Teathrice's cheek. Teathrice tried to sit up, but she stopped her, "No, no, you shouldn't try to move yet. Just lie still."
The grey queen did as she was told, sinking back down into the pillow.
"Where am I?" Her voice was raspy, harsh, not her own.
Tanto offered her some water. "You're in Jellylorum's den. They brought you here last night to stitch up the wound."
Tea grimaced as her memories of last night suddenly returned to her brain. She didn't try to move her head to look around the room, "Where are the others?"
"Notekins and Roary are sleeping—they took turns watching over you last night. Jellylorum had to go check on Aleyn; she's not feeling well again. Tumblebrutus is here with me."
The young tom's face appeared beside Tantomile's with a hopeful smile, "Glad you're awake, Teathrice."
"Thank you," she said quietly, and he understood that those simple words covered so many things. Tantomile offered her more water, which Teathrice drank gratefully. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes. Tanto took the grey queen's paw between her own and softly hummed a soothing tune, lulling Teathrice back into a drowsy state.
Once the grey queen slipped back into sleep, Tantomile turned to Tumblebrutus, "She seems better, doesn't she?"
He nodded, not wanting to crush the hopeful note in Tanto's voice. He didn't tell her that Teathrice had woken three times during his watch and asked the exact same questions each time. Notekins had warned him that she would do that—in response to the pain, her body was shutting down her short-term memory.
The black and white queen gave a light sigh, shaking her head sadly, "She's still in so much pain."
"Can't you use your powers to take the it away?" Tumble asked quietly. She turned to him with an amused smile.
"I'm afraid you overestimate my abilities. I can see the future—nothing more, nothing less." She gently ran her paw over Teathrice's forehead. "If I could, I would help her. But I'm useless, I'm afraid."
Tumblebrutus heard the undertone in her last words—useless, as usual, a freak and an outcast in her own tribe, with powers that weren't of any useful purpose, powers that didn't help cats in the way that they needed to be helped.
"You're not useless," he kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb Teathrice. "You're here with her now. She hasn't rested this peacefully all night—she knows you're here, you make her feel safe. It may not be the way you want to help her, but it's still helping in some way."
Tanto didn't respond. She merely made a small gesture—Tumble wasn't sure if it was a nod or a shrug. He sensed their conversation was over. Obviously, she still didn't fully agree with him, but she wasn't going to debate the topic any further. He respected her silent wish and walked out of the den and into the mid-day sunlight.
It was like walking into a different world. In contrast to the quiet darkness of Jellylorum's den, the Junkyard was a hive of activity as cats worked in different sections of the yard or stretched out atop various items, soaking up the sun, moving around, yelling, laughing, chatting with one another.
In some ways, the yard looked like it always had. In some ways, it didn't. Tumblebrutus felt for the first time as if he didn't belong there—as if he were some foreign visitor that had mysteriously found himself in this strange new land filled with faces that should be familiar. He felt no sense of connection, no sense of community, and yet, he found that he didn't mind the disconnection. It was as if someone had simply flipped a switch inside of him, and all the things that used to have meaning suddenly didn't.
He told himself that he was merely tired, and the odd sensation was from lack of sleep. Part of him thought that as soon as he got a good night's sleep, he'd feel right as rain, falling back into the perfectly carved niche in Jellicle life that he'd created over the years without the slightest of hitches. But another part of him hoped he didn't.
Something was changing inside of Tumblebrutus. He wasn't sure what or how, but he knew that he would welcome the change.
"We have to take her to the humans. Now." Jellylorum's voice was hard, and darker than Munkustrap had ever heard. Still, it did not inspire fear in the Jellicle Leader.
"You're overreacting," he said quietly, turning away. She moved again, stood in front of him, barring his path.
"Aleyn isn't getting better; she's getting worse." The worry in her eyes was evident. She reached for him, her voice filled with pleading, "I can't cure her, Munkustrap. She's got pneumonia, or something else equally deadly. This isn't going to go away."
"She's a strong kit," he pulled away. "She'll recover. It's just her allergies—the smoke and the soot are bothering her, nothing more."
"And since when did the Great Rumpus Cat endow you with medical knowledge and healing abilities?" Jellylorum asked sarcastically. "I'm the healer here, Munkustrap. I know what I'm talking about. We have to take her to the humans."
The silver tom looked into those eyes, those eyes that were hard as steel but tinged with fear and worry and the kind of love that only a grandmother could have, and he knew that even if he refused her, she would defy him and take Aleyn to the humans as soon as his back was turned.
"Fine." He gave a heavy sigh. He turned back to the den, where he knew Aleyn was curled up, looking smaller and weaker than ever, and his father-heart felt a pang at the thought that she could be fully recovered and racing around with her litter mates right now if he hadn't been so stubborn.
"Do whatever it takes to get her better, Jellylorum," he said quietly. "If that means taking her to the humans, then do it."
The calico queen nodded. Then she reached over and gently patted his shoulder. She'd won; she wouldn't gloat. They both wanted the same thing, they just had different opinions on how to go about it.
"I'll take Demeter and Roary Huffersnuff. We'll leave as soon as I can get everything settled." Jellylorum didn't know why she'd said she'd take Roary—he had no connection to the kit and his presence wouldn't have any bearing on the success of the venture. It had just slipped out. And for some reason, it seemed to fit.
Munkustrap simply nodded, turning away again. The calico queen went back into the den, where Demeter was holding Aleyn, whose pale face and shallow breaths sent another stab of fear through Jellylorum's stomach. Each breath was becoming a struggle for the poor kit, and that never was a good sign.
"We're taking her to the humans," she announced, and Demeter breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm just going to get Roary and then we're leaving."
Demeter nodded, grabbing Aleyn by the scruff of her neck, although she was almost too old to be carried around like a little kit anymore. Jellylorum dashed off and quickly found Roary Huffersnuff, and the four cats left the yard, making their way into the streets of London.
Eight streets down was the home of human who'd always been kind to the Jellicles, the one they always turned to when they needed human aid. She and her mate often left pans of cat food outside the Junkyard, and when an ill or injured cat showed up at their doorstep, she would simply pick up the poor creature and whisk it away to the local animal hospital, bringing the cat back within a few days.
"Here we are," Jellylorum stated with a sigh of relief, her eyes instantly going to the large picture window that overlooked the tiny front lawn that was nearly overtaken by rosebushes. In the window sat a tortoiseshell with glowing green eyes, whose ears perked at the sound of Jellylorum's voice. The cat sat up, peered into the street at the four Jellicles, and quickly disappeared. A few seconds later, the front flap on the door opened and the cat appeared again.
"My, it's been quite a while since I've laid eyes on you," she smiled warmly at Jellylorum. Her voice held the tumbling lilt of Scotland. "I suppose that's a good thing, though."
Her green eyes immediately went to Aleyn, whose breathing was even more labored.
"What's wrong with the wee 'un?"
"Not sure. Maybe pneumonia." Jellylorum answered quickly. She didn't like talking about it in front of Aleyn—no sense in scaring the kit.
The tortoiseshell seemed to understand. She gave a warm smile to Aleyn, "Well, there's no need to worry about it now—I'll take you in and let the humans have a look at you. We'll have you back home, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, in no time at all."
Demeter gently nudged her daughter forward, her voice soft and soothing, "Go with this nice cat, Leyni darling. The humans are going to take you somewhere to get you better."
"I have to alone?" Aleyn's eyes were wide with terror.
"Only for a little while," the tortoiseshell replied. "It'll be a grand adventure, my lass. Just imagine the stories you'll get to tell when you get back home."
Aleyn smiled at the thought—her siblings would be jealous, hearing all her tales of life outside the yard.
"Come on, lass," the tortoiseshell reached through the thin iron bars of the fence. "Pop on over and we'll get you in and on your way to the hospital."
Now her gaze flicked back to Jellylorum, "Wait here. The mistress is in; she'll have her in the car and off to the vet's in a flash. I'll let you know as soon as they've gone."
The three Jellicles nodded, all unconsciously holding their breath as the tortoiseshell picked Aleyn up by the scruff of her neck again and gingerly carried her inside the house.
After what seemed like an eternity, the cats heard the hum of a car engine. A small beat-up automobile backed out of the driveway next to the iron fence, pulling out into the deserted street and driving off.
The tortoiseshell appeared again, her smile not nearly as bright this time. She bounded down the steps to them, "They've gone. But I can't say it looks good. I don't think I've ever seen the mistress so disturbed."
Demeter gave a small groan. Jellylorum instantly pulled her daughter closer.
The tortoiseshell looked at Demeter, "You're the mother, aren't you?"
Demeter nodded.
"Come inside," she stepped back, motioning them to follow with her tail. "The house is empty, and the humans wouldn't mind, so long as you don't leave a mess."
The three Jellicles followed her into the small house, through the tidy kitchen and into a warm sitting room. She hopped back onto the picture windowsill, "I'll keep an eye out for the humans. If they show up, you'll have to dart out the way you came and wait in the roses til I give the all-clear."
Jellylorum simply nodded; obviously she'd done this before.
"I've completely forgotten my manners," the stranger blushed looking down on Roary and Demeter with a smile. "Would you like any food? Or perhaps a catnip mouse to play with?"
"We're fine, thanks," Roary smiled back at her.
"Jellylorum doesn't usually bring company," the tortoiseshell commented.
"Looks like you aren't the only one who forgot her manners." Jellylorum turned to the other two Jellicles, "Minerva, this is Roary Huffersnuff and my daughter, Demeter."
"Minerva," Roary smiled. "Lovely name."
"Well, it's not nearly as imaginative as a Jellicle name, but it gets the job done," she winked at him. She turned her attention to Demeter, "I should have guessed who you were—you favor your mother."
Demeter merely smiled.
"I suppose your mind's too filled with worry to handle all this small talk," Minerva's face was filled with compassion. Demeter didn't try to refute the statement—she simply gave a slight nod of her head and sighed heavily.
"Is there...is there just somewhere quiet where I could wait...alone?"
Minerva nodded, motioning across the room with her tail. "There's a little wicker basket in the study. I doubt you'll be able to sleep, but at least it's a comfortable place to wait."
The black and gold queen offered a small smile and thanked her hostess, padding across the room and disappearing into the study.
"Poor thing," Minerva gave a sympathetic smile and turned her face back to the window, her eyes scanning the street.
"So where's Sybil?" Jellylorum looked around.
"At the vet's, coincidentally." The corner of Minerva's mouth quirked into an wry smile. She looked back at Roary, "My house mate is a bit...skittish. Always has been. She got spooked by some house guests the other day and injured herself trying to escape."
"I don't blame her," Roary gave a small smile. "I don't care for humans either."
"Oh, when you find the right ones, they aren't so bad," Minerva assured him. "It takes a while to train them, too, but luckily mine are quick learners. They'd had cats before me that brought them up right, so my work wasn't too hard at all."
Jellylorum simply shook her head with a chuckle. She agreed with Roary—humans weren't worth the time and effort required to train them into being acceptable housekeepers.
Minerva realized that she was outnumbered on this argument, so she merely shrugged and turned back to the window with a smile. Jellylorum crouched down, curling her tail around herself as she gave a light sigh. Now that the humans were taking care of Aleyn, Jellylorum could finally let go of the fear and the anger.
Roary Huffersnuff moved closer to her, settling down next to her, his shoulder barely touching hers. In a low voice, he asked, "So, when are you going to say something about your daughter?"
"What is there to say about Demeter?" Jellylorum was confused.
"Your other daughter."
Jellylorum ducked her head. "I don't think there's anything to say about Etcetera, either."
"She's missing, Jellylorum," Roary spoke quietly, as if he feared that his words would shatter her.
"No, she's not," the calico queen retorted softly. She looked up at him, her green eyes filled with some unreadable emotion, "I saw her. After the battle, I saw her leave with the rebels. And I knew it was for the best. So I didn't say anything, to anyone. Lots of cats went missing; let them think she's simply disappeared, like Jemima. So long as no one knows what really happened."
"You haven't told anyone about this?"
"Well, I just told you."
Roary wasn't sure how to respond to this. Part of him was honored that she'd told him and no one else, but part of him was angry that she hadn't said something sooner.
"It would be so much easier to be your friend if you actually shared things," he kept his tone neutral, but he was certain that she still detected the undercurrent of frustration.
"I don't really share things," she admitted quietly. She tried to explain, tried to tiptoe across the surface of all the deeper things that influenced her life, "I just...never have, really. It seems weak."
"And you don't do weakness, either," Roary stated. Now, a smile danced at the corner of his mouth.
"I try not to." His smile was contagious; it sneaked across her own lips, although she wasn't sure what he was smiling about. She cocked her head to the side, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," he shook his head. "You're just so infuriatingly independent, even for a cat."
"I'll try to see the compliment in that."
"It was meant as one. Sorta."
She gave his shoulder a playful shove.
Minerva suddenly sat up, "The other human's coming up the drive."
Her voice was loud enough to carry into the study; Demeter appeared in the doorway, quickly moving across the room and to the front door with Roary and Jellylorum.
"There probably won't be news til the morrow," Minerva warned them. "But I'll come and get you when the humans leave again in the morning."
The three Jellicles nodded, quickly disappearing out the pet door. Minerva went to the back door to greet her human. It was a Tuesday, so he would be bringing home fish to cook for dinner and he would give her small pieces while he was preparing it. She'd trained him well, that one. He even knew which pieces were her favorite.
The tang of the salt water pricked Mistoffelees' nostrils as he made his way down the wharf, through streets that seemed like a different world in the daylight. His stomach was still flip-flopping with nerves and uncertainty. He wasn't afraid of his father; he was simply afraid that they wouldn't have anything in common, that today's meeting would shatter the long-hoped-for deep connection with his father, the kind he'd seen between other fathers and sons, the kind he'd envied for most of his life.
Macavity was sitting on the seawall, looking out at the gulls swooping over the ships. He looked like an ordinary cat, a mere mortal, not the Hidden Paw, the Napoleon of Crime, the Great Plague of the Jellicle Tribe.
Misto quietly jumped up on the seawall edge, padding across the stones to sit next to him. Macavity gave him a slight smile and turned back to the sea. He nodded his head in the direction of one of the ships, "A human ship bound for Cape Cod. Ever been there?"
"Nope."
"Me either."
There was a silence, not entirely comfortable, but not awkward, either.
"Sending anything out on these ships today?" Misto asked, unsure of what else to ask.
"Not today," Macavity shook his head. "And usually we try to use ships run by cats only. Less chance of having your cargo discovered and confiscated or thrown overboard."
"There are ships with only cats as crew?" Misto was incredulous.
"There aren't many these days," Macavity admitted. "The ones that still exist have to come and go at odd hours, when humans aren't around. Not an easy life."
Suddenly, the gingertom gave a slight chuckle, "Although, I guess running the biggest crime ring in London isn't an easy life, either."
Misto didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.
Macavity's face sobered once again, "Your mother used to love it—the glamour, the adrenaline, the power of being the old lady to the roughest cat in town. It was like she was born to do it. Not that she ever actually got her paws dirty, mind you. But she knew how to handle things."
He took another deep breath, and Misto suddenly realized that his father was just as nervous as he was. They were about to get into the meat of their family tragedy, and although it was scary, it had to be met head-on.
"But then, things changed," he looked down at the water. "After—after we lost you and your sisters, it wasn't enough for her anymore. She didn't want any of it. She just...drifted away. And I let her. I let her drift away."
There it was. His damning confession, his moment of truth, the sin he'd carried around his neck like a millstone—he'd let the only cat that he truly loved push him away at the moment she needed him most. Through weakness or fear or pride or apathy or some other unknown flaw, he'd simply faded away, rather than staying and fighting and protecting her from herself. It was his greatest regret and his single torment.
Misto wanted to reach for his father, to hold him and tell him that it was OK, that it wasn't his fault, that he forgave him, but he couldn't. Still, he had to find something to bridge the gap.
"She never blamed you," the young tom said quietly.
Macavity turned to look at him, his red-rimmed eyes filled with disbelief.
"She never…she always smiled when she talked about you," Misto continued, fighting back his own tears. "She never said any of the things that the other Jellicles say about you. She didn't blame you for any of it."
The tears were falling freely down the gingertom's face now, and he turned away, embarrassed. Again, Misto wanted to reach out to him, but he feared what would happen if he did.
Macavity regained composure, focusing back on the ships ahead. His breath was ragged, as if he feared what he would hear next, "And at the end…were you there?"
"Yes," his son answered quietly. "I didn't actually see Munkustrap kill her, but I saw her after, on the ground."
The gingertom nodded slowly, taking it all in. The night before, he didn't dare ask Rumpleteaser and Mungojerrie for details, even though he desperately wanted to—he was afraid he would become too emotional, look too weak in front of his comrades. But now he knew. Munkustrap had killed her, with his own paw. He had suspected as much, and even if Munkustrap hadn't physically killed Red, he was responsible—he was the one who started the war in which she'd died.
"I never liked Munkustrap," he admitted. "But I never thought he'd do something like this."
Misto didn't respond. Macavity noticed his silence, and his face contorted in compassion, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you relive it."
"I relive it every day," Misto spoke quietly. "Even if I don't talk about it."
Suddenly Macavity reached over, pulling Misto into a hug. At first, the young tom was too shocked to react, but then he relaxed, returning his father's embrace. Neither one spoke; neither one cried. After a few seconds, they released one another.
"Come," Macavity turned and jumped off the seawall, back onto the pavement. "I'll show you around."
Aleyn tried to stop herself from shivering, but her limbs quaked with fear no matter how hard she tried. First the human had whisked her away in a strange box, cooing softly to her in some attempt at communication, and then she'd taken a hellish ride in a car, only to be taken out and poked and prodded by more strange humans with cold hands and sharp needles. The worse part was that she didn't feel any better—she felt worse. Her chest was tightening and it was becoming harder to breath, which her constant shaking wasn't helping.
Another set of hands picked her up and took her to another room, where other animals waited in cages, barking and meowing and chirping. She was placed in an empty cage. She moved to the corner, as far away from the garish lights and the other strange animals as possible.
The cat in the cage next to her looked at her curiously. "Are you quite alright, wee 'un?"
Her accent was funny, but in a pretty way. It was like the cat who had taken her into the human house.
"I wanna go home," Aleyn whispered meekly.
The other cat gave a compassionate smile, "Oh, don't worry. In a day or two, you're humans will come pick you up, and everything will be right as rain."
"I don't have humans. My mama brought me to a human house, so they could bring me here, but I'm a Jellicle. I live at the yard."
"A Jellicle, you say?" The cat sat up, her yellow eyes wide with surprise. "Did you go to a house with a tortoiseshell queen named Minerva?"
"I...I don't know her name, but she was a tortoiseshell. She talked like you do."
The stranger chuckled. "That's Minnie, alright. I'm her housemate, Sybil. Quite funny to make your acquaintance here, of all places."
"I'm Aleyn."
"My, that's a pretty name."
Aleyn gave another cough, struggling to catch her breath.
Sybil's expression became concerned, "What brought you here, Aleyn?"
"I've had a cough. And it's hard to breathe."
The older cat nodded. She noticed the kit was still shivering, "Lass, you need to get warmer."
She moved to the edge of her cage, pressing as close to Aleyn's cage as she could, "Come, curl up next to me. Tisn't much, but a little warmth is better than none at all."
Aleyn curled up next to her, feeling the tips of Sybil's fur that peeked through the wires into her own cage. Sybil was right—she could feel the light warmth of the other cat's body radiating to her own.
"It smells funny in here," she announced, in the honest way that only kittens can.
Sybil laughed, "It does. That's all the antiseptics and chemicals they use. You get used to it, after awhile."
"It's noisy, too," the kit grimaced, looking around at the animals in the other cages.
The older queen shot a distasteful look at the terrier across the aisle, who'd whimpered incessantly ever since he'd gotten here. "Some of us are better at adjusting to change than others. Sadly, it doesn't get much quieter."
She pasted on a bright smile, "But luckily, you won't be here too long."
Aleyn felt another tight spasm in her chest as she nodded. She didn't miss the concerned look in Sybil's face when she drew a labored breath. Aleyn knew that she was sicker than they were telling her, and she got the queasy feeling that she would be here much longer than she wanted to.
She tried to snuggle closer to Sybil, blocking the bad thoughts from her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to think about the yard and the open sky and the smell of home.
Rumpleteaser unceremoniously jerked open the curtains, sending in a flood of sunlight that nearly blinded Tugger. He groaned and covered his eyes, rolling over in bed.
"Roise and shoine."
"Why in Bast's name are you in here, Teaser?"
"Oi told you—you dohn' need ta be alone. And if you wohn' come out there with the otha's, Oi'll come in 'ere to you." She plopped down on the edge of the bed and Tugger knew that she wasn't going to leave until he responded. He rolled over to face her. She cocked her head to the side with a smile. He laughed.
"How are the others?" He asked quietly, his expression becoming serious once more.
"Betta' than you," she shot back with a quirk of her eyebrow. Then she sobered up as well. "Misto's been pretty quoiet, but Oi know it's hit 'im pretty hard. And poor li'l Pounce is on the road to recovery as well, but his 'eart's a mess. All our 'earts need healing, Oi suppose."
She turned her face back to the open window. "Alonzo buried Cass. He made sure she was taken care of."
"Good," Tugger felt another weight slip off his shoulder. "I worried about her, you know. I was able to get Bombie to safety, but I didn't have time, I couldn't go back for Cass."
"Lonz loved her. He neva' woulda let anyfing bad happen," Teaser replied softly. Tugger nodded in understanding.
"Is he the one who saved you?"
The tiger-striped queen nodded. "He patched up my leg, kept me 'idden from Munku, 'elped me escape."
She gave a heavy sigh, "He's a good tom."
"He always was," Tugger agreed. "I think he's the only one who follows his oath the way it was meant to be followed."
"That was the only thing he asked of me," Teaser admitted quietly. "He jus' wanted the otha's to know that he'd taken care of Cass, and to know all the things he'd done for me, for us. Poor tom, Oi think he knows how it will all end, and he's afraid of bein' rememba'd as some evil henchman."
"We all want to be remembered in a kind light," the maine coon replied philosophically. He looked at Teaser curiously, "But do you really think that's how it will end? Do you really think we'll be the ones who win this war?"
"Oi know we will."
Tugger sat up, "There's something you're not telling me."
The tabby queen took a deep breath, steadying herself for the storm that was sure to come, "Last noight, we met with Macavity. He's agreed to 'elp us take out Munkustrap."
The Rum Tum Tugger sat back, as if someone had punched him in the gut. Teaser watched him with anxious eyes, waiting for some kind of reaction, some sign as to how to pursue the subject.
Finally he spoke, quietly, carefully, "Did he see Mistoffelees?"
"Yes."
"Does he know?" Tugger looked into Teaser's green eyes, and she knew what he was asking.
"He recognoized 'im immediately. Nobody told 'im. He jus' knew."
Tugger nodded. He looked away again, "How's Misto taking it?"
"As well as can be expected," the tabby shrugged. "He's lost his mother and found his father in two weeks' toime. That's a lot of changes to go through."
"Quite a lot," Tugger agreed heavily. "I think I'd like to be alone again, Teaser."
She simply nodded, giving his shoulder one last affectionate pat. She quietly left the room. With a sigh, Tugger pulled himself onto the windowsill, making his way to the roof. There were so many things he had to tell Bombalurina today. Even though he felt that she was probably hovering over them, watching it all, it was somehow cathartic to speak things aloud to her. He knew that probably qualified him as a true nutter, but he didn't care. In truth, this thing that might be seen as crazy by others was actually the only thing that kept his slim grip on sanity. And if there was one thing he'd learned about grief and mourning, it was that you found whatever got you through, and you held onto it like hell, no matter how strange or obscure it seemed. He didn't question it. He simply held on.
*A/N: So...I recently realized that Jellylorum has never dealt with (or even acknowledged) Cetty's disappearance...I guess she won't be winning any Mother of the Year awards any time soon, but I tried to correct the issue in this chapter, because I felt I needed to mention it, even if it was in a belated, awkward way. Oy vey.
Also: Minerva and Sybil, since they aren't Jellicles, would go by their "human" names (names given to them by their humans). Obviously, their humans are Harry Potter fans. I couldn't resist.*