10

There was a stirring in Nool; I could feel it. It ran down my spine in a cold chill, like someone had dropped an ice cube down my back. A rebellion against the fool was beginning. And I knew who it started with.

The Wickersham brothers weren't the smartest monkeys, but they knew how to stir someone up. They all looked more like a gang than a family, but hey, who was I to judge? The Wicks seemed like the group of boys hanging by the corner at my school - the ones who would dare each other to do stupid things and then try to top them. I could definitely see them with sagging jeans and sideways baseball caps.

And then there was the music. I was sure that I was the only one who could hear it. The teal of the trumpets, the green of the saxophones, the heavy gray beating of the bass drum that rocked through my heart. No one else could hear the loud blasting or see as many of the colors as I could.

Wait. Colors? Had the Cat slipped me some drugs while I was sleeping? This was getting to be too much. As the Wicks were all gathering together in a monkey-like way, I stepped away from everyone else and towards a small tree in the corner. The Cat was scaring me now.

"There's a rustle in the bushes..." one of the monkeys began to sing.

"Cat!" I hissed. "What did you do now?! I see colors in sounds and I don't know how!"

What colors? Those aren't my doing.

"Oh, come on, Cat! Don't lie, don't be mean! I see them in music now; yellow, red, green! There's orange and purple and black and gray, too! Not to mention turquoise, gold, bronze, and blue!"

Okay, I get it. That's a lot of colors. But I swear to Geisel, I didn't cause that. You did.

"Cat, what are you saying? Are you trying to imply that I'm taking drugs, because that is a lie!" I whisper-yelled. I've been doing that a lot now, it seems.

"Something big is getting nearer, something big is coming through..." the monkeys sang together, gradually growing louder.

I sighed heavily. "We'll discuss this later, Cat, but don't expect to get off easy like that." With that cleared out of the way, I turned to the Wickershams, who were a starting to sing the chorus. "Come on! We're gonna monkey, monkey around," they sang in unison, all doing a dance together. "Come on! We gotta monkey, monkey around! Come on, we gotta monkey, ooh, we gotta monkey around!"

I heard a slight rustle from the trees behind me, and I turned around to see Horton romping through the forest, mumbling to his clover. When he saw the Wicks, sensing danger, he turned around and tried to head back the way he came. "The Wickershams," he mumbled, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. But the monkeys were too quick and latched onto him.

Horton looked very uncomfortable with three new guests - monkeys, no less - staring at his clover. "Uh, hello."

"Well, it's bigger than a breadbox," one monkey reasoned in a teasing way.

"Hey, it's wider than a whale!" a second monkey exclaimed.

The third monkey snickered and grinned. "Peanut butter breath and scared to death from head to tail!"

I sat down, knowing that this would be a show.

If only we had popcorn... the Cat sighed.

"So you're still talking to dust!" the first monkey yelled. "Oh, that's hot!"

"A dust speck that's all full of Whos, who are nots!"

"There aren't any Whos, why, I don't hear a sound!"

"Come on!" they said to each other excitedly. "We gotta monkey, monkey around!" With that, one monkey snatched Horton's clover out of his trunk and ran off into the jungle. The other monkeys practically cackled and ran off.

"Hey, give that back!" Horton yelled in shock, stomping after the Wickersham brothers. "Stop!"

A teal trumpet crescendoed and led into a heavy yet nonconstant beat.

And then there was the kangaroo. She was sour, all right, but for a moment she was a narrator, telling about the chase that was ensuing. "Up out of the jungle, up into the sky," she sang, her nasal voice sticking out among the many that existed in Nool.

"Up over the mountains..."

Kid, you're gonna need to get going if you're gonna make it in time.

Now the Cat didn't even seem instructive anymore, like now he was just giving a reminder or a heads-up. So I had practically no problem with pulling off my hat and being teleported once again. This time, however, I ended up in a sleek gray helicopter flying over the jungle that I was just in.

"You're on in five," a voice of a man flying the helicopter called to me.

"Thanks, Marty," I responded, not quite sure of how I knew his name. But just then, a red light flashed on the news camera that was in front of me, and I was on.

I coughed and cleared my throat before looking directly into the camera and giving a big grin. "This is the Cat in the Hat and we're live from Skycam 5. Folks, the Jungle of Nool is one heck of a drive! We've got monkeys backed up to the 302, I'd find alternate routes if I were you!" I could hear the kangaroo singing the next lines, but I still stared at the camera lens and said cheerily, "Back to you, Phil."

With the thought of being on television lifted off my back, I glanced out the window to the jungle below. It seemed so tiny from up here, so... insignificant. And yet, to this world, it was the difference between normality and destruction. The Cat had a lot on his shoulders, and he still kept a bouncy attitude about it. I was surprised that he didn't go crazy after a while. I had to clean my room and do my homework. He had to keep the dimensions - and the in-betweens, for that matter - all safe and running normally. It really put things into perspective.

Good job, kid. Now get back there so you can tell everyone how lucky they are.

I rolled my eyes and smiled before picking up the hat off the floor of the helicopter once again and vanishing from the helicopter.

"...and into the forest, with thousands of trees!" Everyone in Nool seemed to be engaged in the song now. Everyone but Horton, that is. He was running past Sneetches on beaches and sour kangaroos. When I opened my eyes for what felt like the millionth time, I was in a small, grassy field where Horton and the Wickershams were.

Two of the three monkeys were holding onto one of Horton's back legs to keep him from charging, and the third waved the clover in front of the elephant's face tauntingly. "Still chasing your dust? Why, it's safe as can be," the monkey latching onto Horton's left leg grunted. I don't know how they could have held on so well, but they somehow managed.

"We're monkeys to trust..." the monkey grabbing Horton's right leg strained to murmur.

The monkey holding the clover, however, felt no pain, and waved the clover so close to Horton that he could hear the Who yells. "...or don't you agree?"

But just then, with a sudden jolt of energy, Horton burst out of the grasp of the monkeys and snatched the clover with his long, elephantine trunk. "Ha!" he yelled, proudly holding up his prized possession.

Then the monkeys began to back away, trembling in the fact that their plan didn't work. "All right, all right!" the first monkey sheepishly remarked. "Take it, we don't care!"

"Y-yeah," the third monkey said, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. "We weren't gonna harm it, we promise, we swear!" With that, the monkeys chased each other off and back towards Nool.

Meanwhile, a clearly ecstatic Horton was talking to his clover once again. "Whos? Are you all okay? Oh, please, please answer me! I don't have all day!"

I could hear a male voice clearly from the clover, even though I was standing about twenty feet away. "Yes, Horton, we're fine, but dear Who, save our grace, for General Schmitz wants to blow up the whole entire place! We're going to war, so I must say, my dear friend, that this crazy, wild man, will bring Who to its end."

Horton let out a large huff. "Oh, come on, Mr Mayor, don't worry, don't fret! Don't feel bad, or get angry or upset! You could have been roasted, fried, battered, or cursed, because - and trust me when I say this - things could be worse."

Hey, that's our line!

Yeah, it was our line, but we were gonna sing it after the clover fell.

Wait a second. The clover never fell.

The clover never fell.

The Cat wasn't going to be happy about this.


Cat: Happy about what?

Talia: Oh, n-nothing, Cat. Don't worry.

Jojo: Seven days. Not as bad as before, I guess.

MagicalAwesomeness: Yeah, I've just been writing for my bros more lately.

Jojo: Okay, explain to me. What are bros?

MagicalAwesomeness: Not what. Who. Bros are people, and there are about 8-and-a-half million of them in the world. I'll tell you more later.

Jojo: Okay.

Talia: Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow!