AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! Being the irresponsible teenager I am, I'm uploading a chapter during exam week! A sort-of important announcement is that from now on in this fic I will refer to every cat's upper extremities as "hands" and not "paws" to save everyone from confusion and myself from the terror of being reduced to a sobbing curled-up ball on the floor, crying out "Which one am I supposed to use?"
Another thing! In case you're confused about their aging, refer to the very helpful actual cat-years chart I linked to in my profile. And now for shameless self-plugging! A link in my profile leads to my fairly new deviantArt account containing exclusively my Cats fanart. Why not give it a check and throw this starving artist some imaginary money?
Anyway, fairly long chapter we have here. Ready yourself for a human appearance, some desperate attempts at comic relief, and an oddly responsible Tugger. In case you are confused about anything at all, fear not. All will be explained in the following chapter. Enjoy? :D
The Pariah Heroic CHAPTER 10
"Bum it, Janie, snip that bloody thing at the tail!" the red-faced human bellowed from the bedroom as the calico cat dashed across the apartment living room.
"Thing o' the devil! Thing o' the devil!" the female screeched, chasing after him in her nightgown with a greasy cleaver. "Give those back!"
Aw hell, aw hell, aw hell, aw hell was what was all on Mungojerrie's mind as he jumped onto a couch to get to the window. In his mouth he held two dangling diamond chandelier earrings – probably fake, but shiny nonetheless.
"Janie it's getting away! Throw the bloody knife!" the male human shouted as he jumped from his bed.
"Damned if I throw this thing! Cost me thirty quid at the bloody trade fair!"
"The earrings cost you flippin' ninety!"
Quickly Mungojerrie climbed onto the frame of the window, towering two stories above the ground. As soon as he regained his balance at the very edge, a thin, silver object went flying past the right side of his head, chopping off with it a sharp black tuft of his fur.
"Hell on a salmon!" Mungojerrie yelled in anger, though to the humans it came out as ngrryyaaaw.
"You bastard! You had me throw my bloody cleaver!" shrieked the female.
"Get the cat! Get the damn cat!"
All at once, two pairs of plump arms grabbed at his tail, and swiftly as he could Mungojerrie jumped from the window.
In retrospect, that wasn't the very best "first steal" Mungojerrie could imagine for himself.
He stared at the two dangling fake-diamond earrings sitting in his hands. Under the faint six o'clock sun they glittered weakly, and one of the hooks was partially curved too far. He stashed them into his sock bag along with a poster he'd found on the wall of the apartment he'd just escaped from.
The metal can tab tied to his palm was luckily still intact, but landing feet-first onto the pavement had given both his invention and his limbs a good, painful beating. Delicately he loosened the yarn around the tab to remove some of the soreness.
Maybe he'd give the earrings to Electra, he figured. Of course, being a cat, she had no use for it, but it still seemed like a gentlemanly gesture. There was still the question of presenting them to her, though. "Here, I stole these for you" was not a good way to appear to the daughter of a Jellicle tribe protector.
Holding the earrings, he realized he didn't really have a reason behind stealing them.
Standing in the same spot at the fence as usual, he waited for Electra. Today was the end of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer's second week with the Jellicles. They had two weeks left to remain on good behavior, and hopefully by the end they would be accepted fully into the tribe. It seemed, socially, they had been, but not yet officially.
Today was also another update report with Macavity. The last one had seemed to go well, but Macavity warned them that the next wouldn't be as fast. What surprised Mungojerrie was that he hadn't thought about the dreaded report all week. Perpetually he thought of the Jellicles instead, and frankly, it scared him. In fact, he'd already gained a daily routine with them.
His day started with Electra. Each morning walk with her was the same. They would meet outside of the Junkyard fence and walk and talk and "not think", as Mungojerrie put it, until they had idly stalked the perimeter of the yard twice.
It was just that now she ended each with a kiss. The kiss was always initiated by her, in the same manner: hesitant, shy at first, then swiftly she would place her face in front of his, her fingers tracing the sides of his cheeks.
And then she would run away without another word. It occurred to Mungojerrie that he was never the one to start it. Maybe this morning, he figured, he would try to be so to make up for it.
"Jerrie?" a queen's voice, unsure, emerged from the cold fog. The tom turned to see the rust-colored queen standing there, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes directed to the ground.
"El," Mungojerrie responded, readying his sack to bring out the dangling earrings. "I got you-"
"I, um," she suddenly interrupted. "I wanted to ask you something."
"…Alright," said Mungojerrie doubtfully. "What?"
"Do you… like me?"
Hell on a salmon. Mungojerrie stood there. Why was she asking that? Was she trying to trap him or something? "El, what in blimes are you…"
"I, I mean…" Electra started up again, staring at her hands as she fiddled with them. "I don't mean like that. It doesn't have to be like that, really. I just meant if you liked me. Like, liked me at all. Liked me. Do you?"
"El, I…"
"…because I just wanted to know. I wanted to know if you liked me. If anyone liked me. If you liked me at all, because I'm really not sure anymore," she was beginning to speak faster.
For the first time, and for the most peculiar reason ever, Mungojerrie felt unbelievably helpless.
"…because I can't talk to anyone anymore. Not even to my friends. Not to Etcetera or Vic or Mimes or- or- or- or even some of the toms or even Jenny and I don't even talk to Jenny unless it's about my dad, and- and- and Everlasting Cat, my dad! I don't talk to him anymore unless it's about the tribe or records or what stupid useless thing springs up with the Jellicles, and, see, I only ever talk to you and I just wanted to know!"
Electra quickly buried her face into her hands, as if muffling any other words that could possibly spill out from her mouth. Impulsively Mungojerrie dropped his bag and stepped forward and put his arms around her, still silent. He hoped to Bast she wouldn't cry.
Slowly, Electra lifted her face, staring up at him with tired eyes.
"Everlasting Cat, I'm being an idiot, right?" she said wearily.
Mungojerrie took this moment to try and cheer her up. "Are you asking me, or the Everlasting Cat?"
Electra laughed a bit, and pulled away from his arms. "I've gotten used to just asking myself."
"Ey, El," said Mungojerrie, tipping her chin up with a finger. On his palm rested the metal tab, and he made sure to hide it in case Electra would see. "I like you fine, alright?"
With a weak but hopeful smile, Electra nodded.
"In fact, I like you a ton. And I reckon the most lot of the Jellicles has fishbones in their eyes if they can't work out why."
Electra took Mungojerrie's wrist in her hands, lowering it gingerly. "Thank you, Mungo. You're so nice to me."
And in the regular fashion, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his mouth, lingering a moment longer than usual.
When Electra pulled back, she said, "I've got to go."
"What?" Mungojerrie blinked. "We ain't even walked the streets yet."
The tortoiseshell queen shook her head. "We can't walk today. I can't walk with you. I'm… I'm not even supposed to be here."
"But… why?"
"I'm not allowed to be," she answered, pain brimming deeply in her eyes. The young queen took a step back. "But I'll keep trying to see you, alright?"
"El… what in blimes am I gettin' myself into here?"
"Nothing. Please… please just keep trying to see me."
"El…"
"Please," the word came out hard and pained.
Mungojerrie, sighing, nodded. "El, if there's a problem-"
"There's none, there's none," the rust queen soothed him, though her own voice sounded heartbroken. Electra took Mungojerrie's face in her hands, putting her forehead against his as she closed her eyes. For a long time they stayed that way, barely touching noses, Mungojerrie listening to her soft, troubled breathing.
"I love you," Electra whispered, and then promptly let go to dart fast away into the fog.
Mungojerrie, picking up his sack, kicked miserably at the dirt on the pavement.
What in the world was he doing?
Double life? Not enough. It seemed more like a triple life. There was his home with Macavity, his closeness with Rumpleteazer, and his supposedly "secret" meetings with Electra. What was difficult was keeping all of them apart.
Mungojerrie climbed onto the top of the junk pile, locating the metal sheet that covered his den's sun hole. Finding it, he pulled it away and jumped right in. Rumpleteazer was sitting on top of one of his posters, and looked up, surprised.
"Jerrie!" she exclaimed. "What you doin' up so early? And where were you?"
"What're you doin' up so early?" Mungojerrie directed back to her, just as surprised.
"Macavity told us to brush up on readin', remember?" replied Rumpleteazer, nervously chewing her lower lip. "I forgot to all week so I'm cramming it now. I'm using your poster, see."
"I forgot to read, too," Mungojerrie said, raking his claws through the fur on his head. "All I know's my flippin' alphabets and ABC's."
"I can read now, sort of," said Rumpleteazer, and she directed her claw to a black line of text on the poster she was kneeling on. "Way… ter… ess… wan… ted. Waitress… wanted."
"You can read better than me," mourned Mungojerrie. "And I'm the one who gets all the papers."
Rumpleteazer shrugged. "I'm still toilin' over writing. Can't draw out one letter." She looked at what Mungojerrie was holding. "Were you… out stealin'?"
"Oh yeah!" Mungojerrie exclaimed, and plunged his arm into his socksack. "I just did my first steal ever."
"About flippin' time!" Rumpleteazer jumped up and eagerly tried to peek into his bag. "Whadjeh get?"
Mungojerrie pulled out the two dangling chandelier earrings, their hooks now twisted and bent from being stuffed hurriedly into his bag. The light from the sun hole glowed faintly onto the tiny inset rocks.
"I… got these for you," said Mungojerrie, bringing them closer to the calico queen. "For gettin' me all these posters."
"Oh, Mungo," Rumpleteazer breathed, taking the earrings. She gazed at them for a long time, not saying a thing. "…They're so shiny."
"That's what I said!"
"Thanks, Mungo!" Rumpleteazer said brightly, and with a flourish hooked them onto either side of her Woolworth necklace to accompany her white pearls. Of course, the original idea was to give them to Electra, but now that it seemed they were standing on rocky ground Mungojerrie figured it would be safer to give them to Rumpleteazer, who seemed happy with them anyway.
"Now," the calico queen said, taking Mungojerrie's wrist as she walked towards the exit of their den. "We got to get to the fence! That messenger queen might be here soon."
Rumpleteazer was right. The frail silver queen was waiting at the Junkyard fence again, gazing at them mutely. As the pair approached, she stood up from the cement.
"We're ready for the boss!" said Rumpleteazer cheerily, stepping forward.
Mungojerrie followed closely behind her, feeling in a more positive mood than before.
The old queen put a hand up to stop him. He stepped back, confused.
"One will suffice," she croaked, taking Rumpleteazer's arm in her own.
"But…" Mungojerrie started.
"Macavity's words," the queen answered simply.
"You can't come?" asked Rumpleteazer, looking kittenishly sad.
"I guess not, Macavity's words," Mungojerrie replied. He gave his partner a light brush at the arm. "Just tell him everything I told to ya, alright?"
"Alright, alright," Rumpleteazer grinned. As the old silver queen directed her to the road, she turned to wave. "But you hefta go for the next report! Here's hopin' I live!"
Mungojerrie waved the same way. Backing into the main entrance of the Junkyard, he turned to walk again to their den.
The Junkyard, still mostly silent, was beginning to rustle with a few signs of awakening. Hesitantly the sun rose over the junk piles. No wonder a small tribe of magical cats chose this place as their home, Mungojerrie mused. It was incredibly peaceful.
"Mungojerrie?"
"Son of a bloody - Oh, uh, good morning, Munkustrap," Mungojerrie said hastily as he spun around to meet eyes with the silver tabby. Macavity was right: he really had to clean up his language.
"Good morning, Mungojerrie," returned the Protector. "I'm… sorry to have scared you."
"No, no, it's okay, you didn't," the calico tom replied quickly. "I just didn't know anyone else was awake."
"What are you doing at an hour this early?"
Mungojerrie froze. What would he say? Out stealing? No. Out meeting with Macavity? Definitely no. Out kissing your only daughter? Bast on a bloody platter, no. Munkustrap stared at him wordlessly.
"I… was… out all night, actually," Mungojerrie lied.
"And why is that?" asked Munkustrap, his ears flicking.
"Because… I was keeping watch over a corner of the Yard," the calico tom forced out.
"You were? Last night?"
"…Yeah."
"I didn't see you."
"Where were you?"
"In the north section."
"…I was in the south."
"Oh."
This was probably the worst lie Mungojerrie had ever made up on the spot. His ears flat on his head, he looked pathetically up at the Tribe Protector. "I was doing it because I was worried about the Yard. I reckon you don't believe me."
"No, no, not that," the Protector closed his eyes, breathing out. "I… I think I should be more trusting. Everyone says so. That was very noble of you to do, Mungojerrie."
"…Thanks, Munkustrap," the black-and-orange tom replied, feeling guilty.
"Now for why I called you," said Munkustrap, returning to his professional stance. "You and Rumpleteazer have behaved very well with the Jellicle tribe."
"Thank you?" Mungojerrie said, curious as to what this was leading to.
"And, in response to the requests of some Jellicles… quite a lot of them, actually… I've extended your stay with us for the next few months until the Jellicle Ball."
Mungojerrie stared at him, astonished. "You're… you're not joking, are you?"
"I'm not joking. The two of you may live with us until the Jellicle Ball. If you keep to your conduct, we may initiate you officially into the tribe."
At first, Mungojerrie was speechless. Then he shook himself out of his daze and grinned as widely as possible. "Sweet Bast, I really have to thank you! That's… beyond great. Uh, thank you."
Munkustrap nodded. "I'm glad you're happy with that. A number of the Jellicles really seem to like the pair of you. Just… keep on good behavior."
"Sure thing, Protector."
The tabby nodded once more, and without another word turned around to survey some other part of the Junkyard, leaving Mungojerrie feeling thrilled and baffled at the same time.
The rest of the morning passed without incident. It had shifted quietly into the afternoon, and Mungojerrie sat at the peak of a junk pile. He placed his elbows on the top of the fence, looking over the small view of the city he had from there.
Now that they had another handful of months at the Junkyard, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had more time to investigate. They hadn't progressed much since their last update, and Mungojerrie figured that it was time to crack down hard. His main targets were Mistoffelees, Old Deuteronomy (if he could gather up the courage to speak with him privately), and Munkustrap (if he could gather up the courage to speak with him at all).
Mungojerrie's ear twitched suddenly. He heard another set of limbs climbing up the chunks of steel and wood, and he turned around to look behind him.
A familiar cat reached the top of the junk pile. As he regained his footing, the tom brushed tidily at some messed fur on his golden mane, casting an extraordinarily charming smile at the calico.
"Looks like you found my usual spot," the Rum Tum Tugger smirked, walking forward. "Glorious view, right, Mungo-jeery?"
"It's Mungojerrie," answered the black-and-orange cat, uneasy. "Sorry. I could leave if ya want me to."
"No, don't," the handsome tom shook his head. "I need some good company up here every once in a while." Coming up beside the calico, he put his arms on the fence, looking out towards the city. "Having a crazy time with us Jellicles, aren't you?"
"Oh, Bast yes," said Mungojerrie, relaxing as he leaned on the fence again.
"Macavity's a right mystery for sending you here, yeah?"
"That's how I'd say it," Mungojerrie laughed, rolling his eyes.
Wait, what?
Oh Bast.
Oh flipping bloody Bast on a flipping bloody platter.
"I… I… I… what?"
"You didn't think I'd catch on, did you?" Tugger said plainly, still staring out at the buildings. "You didn't think I'd be able to figure out that a couple of strays out of nowhere weren't, how'd ya put it? 'Lookin' foh a home'."
Slowly, tensely, Mungojerrie took his arms from the top of the fence.
"It's funny," said Tugger, sardonically. "I didn't figure I'd hear about that little Teazer girl ever again. Cunning as anything, Macavity'd told me. I figured it was her when I saw those pearls. Not the best at disguises, are you blokes?"
Mungojerrie, quick as he could, unsheathed his claws and took a violent swipe at the tom.
"Fuck!" Tugger yelled, and dodged hurriedly to his right. The calico's scratch only caught a fraction of his golden mane. He nearly tripped. "What in the bloody hell are you trying to do?"
"You're tellin' 'em all about us, aren't you?" growled Mungojerrie. "You're tryin' to get Teaze and me killed!"
"Slow the hell down!" Tugger impatiently put his hands up. "I may know where you blokes come from, and it's not a great place, but I'm not telling anyone, serious to Bast."
"Give me one reason to believe that," Mungojerrie said, advancing. "You're the bloke here who knows Macavity best."
"That's true," replied Tugger, narrowing his eyes. "And I know that he doesn't know the Jellicles at all."
Mungojerrie, uncertain, sheathed his claws. "What do ya mean?"
"Alright, Mungo-jeery-"
"Mungojerrie."
"Right, right. Mungojerrie, look at me. Do I look like that noble, joyful, clean-good-fun-loving Jellicle you hear about?"
It didn't take the calico tom a long period of time to answer that. "Uh, no."
"You're damn right. I spent a good chunk of my days leaving the Yard and doing all sorts of stupid things. That's no secret. And still, the Jellicles had enough good in them to let me back in. I guess that's what changed my mind about them."
Mungojerrie raised an eyebrow, still slightly untrusting. "That still doesn't answer me why you ain't goin' to tell on us."
Tugger placed his elbows on the top of the fence again, looking resignedly out to the city. "Because I think you're going to change your mind, too."
The black and gold tom moved away and quickly jumped down the junk pile without another word, and Mungojerrie didn't have any more willpower to ask him anything else.
As the sun set, Mungojerrie returned to his den, and found Rumpleteazer, back from the report, curled up tightly on her bed, facing the corner. He walked closer to see that she was asleep.
"Teaze, hey, Teaze?" he whispered, rubbing at her arm. She didn't answer.
Mungojerrie looked at her left hand. The old fridge magnet was still tied to it, but had gone partly bent, probably because she had closed it in a fist a couple of times. Careful not to wake her, he reached out and tried to press it back to its original flatness with his right hand.
As his fingers gingerly touched her palm, Rumpleteazer shifted slightly in her sleep. Mungojerrie stopped to see if she would wake up, but instead her fingers closed around his, her magnet pulling at the metal tab tied to Mungojerrie's palm a little stronger.
Sometimes triple lives were worth it.