Chapter 26! This is also been written in Portugal, for all those who were wondering.
Only one chapter until the result!
Responses:
Rubyblaze: Well, at least he got a happy ending (for now).
LittleSpark: That link is intentional.
I found the source of the ticking – it's a time bomb!
Lolcatsrule: Sweetage at the max
LegendaryHero: Well…I like to think that the relationships had developed whilst our characters were away, and this was the tremor that started the quake. And do you have any specific moments you'd like me to cover?
NewProphecy: Thanks. Keep reviewing!
Wildhead: Did you get my PM I sent? And I'm using all of those ideas bar the first one – Tigerheart will get his time in the sun in book 2.
Wildwaters: But if I did Hollyleaf, all the mystery will go away! Hehe, I may do Breezepelt, and of course Nightcloud is in shadow at the mo.
Hawkfire: I do believe Dovekit is 3. I'm not sure we'll get anything intelligent out of that. Unless…BRAINWAVE! Watch this space.
Wildheart: 1 – Hi! 2 – Lots of Oz in Book 2! 3 – Woop! 4 – I hate football! Unless it's the World Cup (BOO US football team! How dare you draw against us?) I like motor sport 5 – Perhaps… 6 – It'll be soon, I promise. 7 – Okay! Calm, dear child! :P
This chapter is written from Crowfeather's PoV, in my plan to make the story slightly more interesting…
Keep reviewing! Leo.
Click. 0700, Thu 4 May 13
"Good morning London!" Hussar's loud voice burst into my eardrums. "And it is important day for the country because it's…" drum roll. "Election Day!"
I groaned. So began one of the longest days in my human life. As much as it was very exciting, I was dreading having to stay up a full 24 hours with no sleep. I wasn't worried that I was going to fall asleep, as I was sure the adrenalin would keep me up, but I was dreading the terrible feeling tomorrow when I was likely to be falling over all over the place.
The radio continued to blare out more idle chitchat from the gossipy realms of British news as the sun's rays splayed out across the bed sheets. I sat up, getting a face full of the fan that I had put last night. The days had gotten very humid and warm, and the nights were sticky and muggy. The political atmosphere had matched the weather, and it felt like there were dark storm clouds about to explode their energy over Westminster.
Sighing, I went out to the curtains and drew them open, the early morning traffic bustling through a waking city, and queues had already started materialise at polling stations across Shepard's Bush and down into Kensington.
"Good morning, Leafpool," I yawned as I heard the bed sheets move around.
"Ah…we really should change the radio station to Classic FM when we wake up…" Leafpool mumbled.
"Mmm…when I can be bothered," I muttered, half to myself.
"Come on, let's feed you up, you have a big day ahead," she made it sound like I was going on a school trip to Weston-Super-Mare.
"Can I have five more minutes?" I wailed.
"No! Get dressed!" she scolded and walked off to the en suite.
Feeling like a little child again, I went through the many different suits in my wardrobe. The untrained eye would say that they are all the same, however they all had different cuts and tapers. However, the BBC would dress me today to show no political incline, so I took out a regular shirt and jeans and got changed.
Walking down the stairs, I heard a massive flurry of activity downstairs. There were green and black banners streaming all over the rooms in the ground floor, but Bramblestar was absent from the breakfast table.
"He's gone to Trafalgar Square to meet voters," Squirrelflight read my mind as she placed bacon on a grill tray. "He's touring London's busiest areas to have a good old chat about politics."
"Well, good luck to him," it was certainly a thankless task, but if it got him into No 10, it would be worth all of the effort he has put in since he called the election a month ago. It had been early mornings and very late nights for him all month. Although he had been rather good at staying awake long hours, I had a rather large inkling that it had something to do with the massive coffee shortages that we were experiencing in the house. "Thank goodness Seville isn't doing the night shift with me…" I watched him read the News on BBC Breakfast. He had gotten a little better over the months, but he was still boring to watch, too emotional when something upsetting and/or scary came up and prone to making inexcusable mistakes.
"I heard you're doing it by yourself in the studio, with a couple of people outside," Squirrelflight said. "So you can be anti-social all you want."
"Oh shut up!" I laughed. "You'll be watching it here on a television with biscuits and a cup of tea!"
"I'm not, actually," Squirrelflight didn't turn round from cleaning plates. "I'm going to be part of the audience. Partners were invited to be there about a week ago. So you won't be able to be anti-social after all!"
"Well, I need to go to the studio now to do some sound checks, I might be back for lunch. See ya later, guys," they bid farewell as I grabbed my car keys and headed out of the door. The heat outside nearly bowled me over with its intensity. The sun was already quite high in the sky and there wasn't a cloud to be found in a large sea of blue. Starting up the car, I reversed out of the drive and down Westbourne Grove. I waved Tigerheart and Dawnpelt who were at the bus stop and turned out further into the city.
I felt oddly carefree in this car. Yes, it was an Aston Martin, but normally you have this massive roar of engine with supercars. Not this one. It made me feel peaceful, and that it was perfectly excusable to turn the radio up full blast and have a good sing-a-long. I saw my mother sat on a bench by Marble Arch. Honking my horn, I remembered she would also be having a long day with Onestar. That sent me on a rather…enlightening thought process.
I could remember when I was a WindClan warrior; I would fight and die for them, I would hunt for them to help them survive. Even though, with all my heart, I wished that I had managed to persuade Leafpool to keep on our journey, I still felt a tug to my birth Clan. But then the Transformation happened, and everything changed…
I could remember the night it happened, I was a loner (I had left WindClan) watching the Gathering from the roof of the horseplace. Then the metal birds came (which I still didn't know what they were) and everything went completely manic. I felt at that point that I had no loyalties to WindClan; I had severed all ties with them.
Now I was here, in my car more than six months later. Because I had been with mainly ex-ThunderClan warriors, I could see where they were coming from in their beliefs. I felt much more ThunderClan than WindClan, my friends were there and I had a family there as well. I had suddenly realised that I didn't classify myself as loyal WindClanner, but a ThunderClan supporter. I looked back on that revelation with confusion; I had been a big supporter of Bramblestar ever since we met up again in this form, but I never once thought that I had switched over to that side. It filled me with a sense of identity, although it felt quite odd to think that.
Shaking my head of all thoughts, I concentrated on the driving again. It was odd, because although I was concentrating on something else, I was still subconsciously driving towards my destination. However, despite my early start, I had caught up with the hefty London traffic as I drove down Piccadilly. I didn't mind much – I was rather used to having to wait ten minutes to travel down one road – and I was in no rush.
Feeling the need for a little bit of background noise, I turned up the radio. Hussar, although he had a rather loud voice for a breakfast show, was good-humoured and witty, and Tammay, despite her shrill voice, was a good co-host for Hussar. Today's topic was, obviously, the Election and they shared a few good (and bad) jokes and placed their bets on the leader on Friday morning. Hussar placed a bet on Cola, who over the past few days since the Television Debates, had drummed up a lot of support from the students and first voters. He was certainly a bookie's favourite, Hussar had said, at 3/1, but Tammay put her chips on Bramblestar to win, because of a huge following brought up by our sweep of the nation: odds 5/1. They both agreed that SkyClan had a very good chance as well following her campaigns in Berkshire and London itself at 7/1.
Before I knew it, I was outside of Parliament itself, and I flashed by pass at the security staff and drove in. The last time I had actually been inside was in one of Jayfeather's meetings, so it was likely to have changed a lot since. The security was certainly a lot tighter. Saying good morning to the policeman on guard, I entered the building. I could immediately see where the cameras and lights were being set up down the bottom of the corridor. Waving my pass at the receptionist idly, I walked down to the studio setting.
"Morning lads," I greeted the production crew as they got on with the set up.
"Morning, Crowfeather," some of them mumbled through unpacking boxes. "Did you want a cuppa?" one of them walked towards the kettle.
"I'd love one," I replied. "So what's going on here?"
"Well, we're just installing the podium system. So when you read out the results, each party leader will get push up by the podium. So tenth place will be only a tiny push upwards, whereas first place is gonna get jumped up into the air. It makes it more exciting – not all politics is boring! We're just going to hook up the sound system now, so could you test it for us?
Nodding, I walked over to the microphone I was, presumably going to be talking at all night.
"The quick brown dog jumped over the lazy fox," I repeated several times. I wish they would think of something else to say!
"Brilliant," the producer nodded in approval. "Well, I don't think we're going to need you for a while, so you go take a break. Come back at half-two."
"But I've only been here for a few minutes," I said.
"So? I think you might want to catch a few zeds…you'll be up till about 3. See you then," and with that he dragged me out of the studio. Looking back in annoyance, I brushed myself off. However, I was grateful for the sleep he just handed me. The cool corridors were a wonderful solace from the humid weather outside, and when I came back out into the open I felt the sticky heat stick to me like superglue.
I opened my car, the leather burning like eggs in Death Valley. Switching the AC all the way up and the radio up full blast, I reversed out of quaint old Westminster and down back towards home. I drove past queues and queues of people waiting to vote as I drove down past the Royal Albert Hall. There were cameramen sweeping past hundreds of people ready to vote for their Prime Minister. What's the big deal? It's only crossing in a box… but it was the people's first vote, and it was bound to be very exciting stuff for them. I had voted by post to make sure that people didn't think I was siding with a certain party (a requirement that my boss imposed on all of us). I would have thought it were quite obvious who I voted for, being a Bramblestar supporter ever since the British government formed five months ago.
I drove past Hyde Park, watching hundreds of people on picnic towels having a siesta. Summers here had gotten hotter for quite a while, even while we were cats the temperature had risen considerably. I decided I wasn't going to sunbathe with the masses of Londoners who had flocked to the luscious green fields to catch some zeds, and instead chose to give the attic some more exploring when I got home.
The house was lovely and cold when I unlocked the door, the shady, cold air spreading through my home nicely. Quickly filling up the ice cube tray for a cold Coke later, I ran up the stairs to the attic. The attic itself was a big one, with mountains of mementos and knick-knacks the previous owners of this house must have left behind, like trophies and statues.
At the back, something caught my eye. It was a journal, an A5 sized leather-bound journal. I opened up the book and brushed the dust (this was obviously an old book). I decided to have the Coke now and read the journal downstairs. Making it quickly and putting the ceiling fan on, I settled down with the book and my drink and began to read:
September 19th 1990
Ugh…what do we have that the others don't? I mean, why can't Firestar or Cinderpelt do this instead? Or even any of the other opposition leaders? Doesn't StarClan realise I have studies to do? Why should I be the one that has to find out the secret of 'How to prevent Nuclear Warfare'? I'm not into politics…
And why did that brat of a teenager get chosen? He takes up most of the room in the Van, and the rest of us have to squeeze into two rooms. Squirrelpaw knew that Firestar's invention wasn't finished!
And don't get me started on her! All she does is natter for the whole day, sings us all to the edge of suicide and thinks she knows more than StarClan, Firestar and my Business Studies lecturer put together! Like she knows how to drive! She' s thirteen for crying out loud, she shouldn't even be out of school! I never should have let her come with us…just because she had a fight with her father, who just happens to be the Prime Minister of Britain. I'd rather be bungee jumping with an executioner than travel with her.
It is nice to be with Tawnypelt again. Why did she have to run away from home to join my tyrant of a father in Manchester? Well, at least he got shot in the chest by that Scourge thing…
Stormfur and Feathertail are…a little odd, but I think they are good people. They have to be weird if they think Morris Minors are cool…I'd rather have one of those new Calibras…six-gears? That's some pretty cool gearage…
I am starting to miss home, though…I miss Mum's cooking, and sort of miss Ashfur and my other friends…
I took all my books with me, but to be honest, I don't I could get any revision done with Squirrelpaw singing 'Better the Devil You Know'…I used to like Kylie…never again…
Anyway, I shall update you on any news…even though you won't be asking for it…because…you're a book…no mouth…
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw
Brambleclaw?My mind was confused. This is dated 19/9/90. That's 23 years ago…unless this is what the human before us was called. But I'm there. And Tawnypelt, Squirrelflight, Stormfur and Feathertail! Intrigued, I continued my read, but skimmed a few shorter entries to another, a longer one.
October 6th 1990
On this day, I enclose a picture of Feathertail sleeping on Crowpaw's lap. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they're going out. Crowpaw's been very close to her recently…I think they went on a walk when we were in Stratford-upon-Avon. Time shall tell…probably. Crowpaw would kill me if he found out I had taken this.
Tawnypelt asked me if I felt anything about Squirrelpaw. How on earth could I have feelings for such an annoying, brattish, hyperactive girl like that? Anyway, I'm going to 18 in a few weeks, and she's only 13. It could never happen, right? Even if her fun is contagious, and she cheers us up when we're all down…well, all but Crowpaw, who just sits with his Walkman and plays Led Zeppelin cassettes all day.
I think we're nearly at Land's End…at least that's what the road map tells me. I think it would help if Stormfur hadn't brought along the AA Road Atlas from 1984…still better than none.
I tried reprogramming the VCR that Squirrelpaw had managed to break last week…it exploded. Parts everywhere. I thought I had picked all of the parts up, but Tawnypelt found one of the knobs in the magazine rack.
But, as I finish this entry, I wonder if I really do like Squirrelpaw, or if it's something Tawnypelt is teasing me with. She does have pretty hair…but it can't happen! There's five and a half years between us, for StarClan's sake!
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw
I stared at the picture for a while. The 'young' me and the 'old' me certainly shared appearances. I then looked at the picture of what, at least what the entry had outlined, must have been Feathertail. Her face was pretty, so no wonder my teenage self fell for her. But, although I would always love her, I still don't think that it would've worked out. And besides, if I hadn't met Leafpool, I wouldn't have two wonderful children and lovely family. That romance was behind me; I had moved on.
I then flicked through to another long entry near the end of the book:
November 1st 1990
I don't believe it. We really have to go to the Nuclear Crisis Meeting in New York? I've lost so much time with my studies…and I have stooped as low as drawing pictures of my friends in my notepad. Looking back at the pictures, I've noticed that I have drawn more pictures of Squirrelpaw than anyone else. That worries me. Do I really like her that much? I thought I hated her…everything I thought has just turned on its head.
We met this old lady who could speak more languages than a language interpreter, and she claimed to speak the word of StarClan. How can she? She doesn't even come from the same culture…but it's the only thing we have…
I accidentally walked in on Crowpaw and Feathertail kissing (I blushed in embarrassment despite the lack of people around me)…eugh. But when I think about Squirrelpaw and I doing something similar, I don't feel disgusted. Strange.
We are going to drive to Heathrow Airport to catch the flight tomorrow morning, but we are staying at a hotel in Windsor for the night. Tawnypelt says that she's pleased that she can have a night outside of the Van for a change. I managed to book three two-man rooms…I just wonder what the sleeping arrangements will be…
I managed to my brick phone working again…and then it broke. How can Squirrelpaw not know that it is dangerous to play football inside? Now there is a massive circle imprint on the wall and my brick phone is now looking a lot like the VCR.
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw
This is the human version of the sun-drown-place journey…I realised. But why would anyone want to do that? Why re-write history? Or is there something they didn't want us to know?
I kept reading, entry after entry:
November 2nd 1990
Stormfur met a girl! Her name is Brook (but her culture gives her a load more middle names…on a letter the top bar would say: Miss B. W. S. F. Swim…). She spilt water all over him at mealtime, but it's obvious that Stormfur likes her.
Tawnypelt said that she would share a room with Stormfur so that the lovebirds could spend the night together. As if! As I write this, Squirrelflight has been flicking between all four channels (A/N: We only had 4 TV channels until 1997). That means a mix of Trevor McDonald, Richard Whiteley, Noel Edmonds and the Nine O'clock News every ten seconds.
Before that, Squirrelflight continued to call room service and ended ordering a large buffet of sandwiches, mini sausage rolls and chocolate éclairs. Next door, all I can hear is Crowpaw and Feathertail kissing and…doing what they are doing (I had suspicions…). Is everyone being so sure that the headcase and me are going to get together? Pfff…fat chance…I think…
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw
-x-
November 3rd 1990
New York! Mmm…bagels! Lovely and warm. I currently am writing this as we sit in a restaurant down by Times Square. Today has been a day for sightseeing, so that we have a whole day to go to the Nuke talks. We went up in the crown of the Statue of Liberty, and Feathertail dropped her disposable camera. Luckily, a hot dog seller had caught it on their awning, so we managed to get it back.
We had lunch in a building I couldn't remember, but the views were stunning. I could see Brooklyn Bridge, Liberty Island, Broadway and the towering World Trade Centre. We were going to be meeting in the Chrysler Building tomorrow…I don't like lifts…
We are going to go to watch Joseph tonight. All that fuss over a coat? It's probably going to be boring…which is why I stocked up on American chocolate to munch through the whole thing. Why couldn't we go watch the NASCAR racing that was going on? Ugh…
To be honest, I'd rather go straight to bed right now than go to watch a musical. I just don't understand how we go in there and tell the big leaders what they have to do. After all, I'm just a university student…
Squirrelpaw has just chucked another scrunched up serviette at my head, which means she wants my attention again…I'm gonna finish this…
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw
-x-
November 4th 1990
We did it! They listened! I don't know how it happened. Mushka and Yankee, the Soviet and US leaders, were both talking, and when I managed to intercept, they told me that they were contacted by the same spirits, and they listened! We have to get back to London soon, but we plan to have one more day of sightseeing and shopping before we leave.
Squirrelpaw was ecstatic after it; she almost fell down 79 floors of steps. Even Crowpaw had a small spring in his step.
To celebrate, I managed to get some tickets to watch the Yankees take on the 49'ers. I don't know the first thing about baseball; I just want one of those massive foam hands you get for $5. And the funky music…
It's at times like these that I feel like I'm 25, not 18. I feel like the people I've travelled all this way with not acquaintances, but life long friends. Especially Squirrelpaw. I feel oddly close to her, and it was really strange. I felt like I wanted be next to her all the time, despite her rather annoying attributes. I wanted be there for her, and that we would grow old together and have children and grandchildren. I knew it inside me. I just didn't know how to tell her…why would she want to be with an old codger like me? What do I have that some handsome boy at school doesn't? Surely she'd want him rather than me…I don't think I should chance it…
Thinking about what might happen if I did tell her just depresses me. She'll never fall for me…she's been annoying me all trip…
Anyway, goodnight.
Brambleclaw
-x-
November 5th 1990
I don't think I would ever not remember the 5th November after today. We went to the Empire State Building and climbed to the top. The others left to go to the toilet, leaving Squirrelpaw and me by ourselves. But that's not the best bit! She told me that she really liked me and she kissed me. I'm still stunned. At the moment, Squirrelpaw is leant against me, watching me write this. I'm not sure how this relationship will work or even if this will happen at all ("Of course it will, silly-Billy!" says Squirrelpaw), but at the moment I could not give a damn. I love her, and we are alone in a hotel room in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
We can't do anything, but that doesn't matter (at least we're more responsible than Crowpaw and Feathertail – how can Crowpaw even do anything like that when he's thirteen!) (I was petrified at the thought!). Just thinking that I am spending a night with her makes me happy enough.
We're going home tomorrow, back to London. We can deliver the good news to Firestar, I can get back to university and everything will be back to normal.
We went shopping, and I bought Mother a cardigan and a photo album (I'm going to put loads of pictures in there for her to look at), I bought myself a New York guide book, a Statue of Liberty paperweight and, you guessed, a massive foam hand! I'm pretty chuffed. And my present to Squirrelpaw? This journal. There is nothing here that she wouldn't know about my early dislike for her…and I'm sure she'd like to know about me more.
Goodnight,
Brambleclaw.
-x-
November 6th 1990
I write tonight in deep grief. Feathertail…is dead. As much as I don't want to, I will tell you what happened.
We were at the airport, sipping cappuccinos in a restaurant in departures. Nothing seemed wrong…not until we noticed that Crowpaw's bag was missing. Stormfur caught a glimpse of a man in a balaclava running away with it. Immediately, we ran after him, twisting through down floor after floor until we got down to the runway entrance. Feathertail managed to find the police and they started their car, chasing after him around the runway entrances. We managed to find another car and we chased after him as well. We managed to catch up with the thief, but the G-Forces were hurting Feathertail and she passed out in exhaustion.
The thief, who we found out later was over the drinking limit, was not particularly careful and couldn't see where he was going. Just as Feathertail aroused again, the thief was coming straight for the police car. It was a side-impact at 60mph; unluckily it was Feathertail's side. She was pronounced dead at 1440 at the scene. Her body was in a pretty bad state as it was.
Crowpaw is devastated – at time of writing he is still sobbing into the armchair he's sat in, more than six hours later. We are going to stay in New York tonight, but we will be heading back tomorrow morning. I feel sick, I couldn't eat when we went to KFC earlier. I've never seen Crowpaw so emotional, which makes me feel awful for the cantankerous headache that he was. You could understand why – we all knew at least one person in the group; he was all by himself. Feathertail brought him into our clique and made him one of us. Now he's all by himself again. Except he's not – he'll always have a place within us, not matter if Feathertail was here or not.
We lit a candle in the windowsill of our room for Feathertail, Crowpaw struck the match. He's going to be like that for a while…I'm just grateful that it wasn't Squirrelpaw. If I had lost her today…I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to leave Manhattan as quickly as I could – it held bad vibes, I just needed to get back to London. I wanted my life to be like it was when I left, except with my friends and Squirrelpaw part of it too. But I knew it couldn't. I knew that I was going to be constantly bugged for the rest of my life.
I'm so choked up at the moment…I need to go to sleep. I'll write tomorrow, I promise.
Sincerely,
A bereaved Brambleclaw.
I sat there, still as a pencil, for about a minute. Bramblestar was a good mind reader, if these are his words, of course. He had summed up my journey pretty well, with those musings. I read the final entry at the back of the book:
November 7th 1990
We're back in London…but without Feathertail. It seems that her spirit will always lie in New York, never coming back with us. As long as she is in StarClan, I won't mind.
Firestar found Squirrelpaw with me today – I wasn't sure of his reaction, but he was relieved I had brought his daughter back safely. But I don't care what he thinks. I love her. So what?
London looks even prettier than it did when I left it. I guess it's just homesickness that makes me feel better here. When I got home this morning, Mum gave me a massive hug and made me a full English breakfast. She always knows when I need cheering up. She doesn't mind that I'm going out with Squirrelpaw, she knows we will be responsible. Only three more years… I showed her this journal, which she pored over with much interest. Her eyebrows rose in the meeting part of the journal, but she said she was very proud of what my friends and I did.
I feel a little more peaceful within myself. I can get back to my studies and my degree. I can start my life with Squirrelpaw and my other friends by my side. I can get back to normality. Except my life from now on will be anything but.
For the final time till I give you to Squirrelpaw,
Brambleclaw… xxx
There was a picture of all six of us sat in the lounge area of the Van. It looked very different, with big black boxes for tellies, and the leather settees were instead filled with patterned sofas. Bramblestar was certainly much more fresh-faced then, and he had a much more styled haircut than before. Squirrelflight looked much more girlish in the picture, and her now flowing hair was put in a bun. Tawnypelt had the same rounded face as her brother, but the look she had was much more mysterious, rather than the open and honest Bramblestar. Stormfur and Feathertail had exactly the same looks, like their father, and the same light brown/grey hair. Then there was me, at the back with my Walkman in my ears. I looked grumpy, but then I supposed I was back then (Squirrelflight constantly told me I was even when we are humans).
I was quite shocked; everything was from either someone rather knowledgeable, or Bramblestar himself. I wondered if this was someone having a laugh, but the pictures enclosed looked very real. You couldn't mock up a picture like that…
So who did it? I was pretty sure it was StarClan, but what were they trying to tell us? That we should forget our history? That we should look further back into the history of humans before us? I hoped that Jayfeather would come home soon, so I could show him. But what would he think? Just a mock up, a hoax, a façade? There's only one way to find out…(A/N – FIGHT! Don't worry if you don't get it…it's an English thing…)
I decided to see if I could find any more things up in the attic that was about us in the past. I had only expected to find a couple more things, but I instead found boxes and boxes of things. I saw a trophy from Westminster School with Bramblestar's name engraved into it: No 1. 400m July 1987. Then I found a picture dated 16/8/2005: it was a photo of Leafpool and our three children, but I wasn't there. Odd. They would have all been 11 on that day…why wasn't I there?
Then, I found a relatively young Brambleclaw shaking the hand of Firestar, a plaque in his hand that I couldn't read. All of these things were starting to hurt my head, so I went down the stairs to sit. Picking up the phone, I dialled Jayfeather The phone took a while to dial, giving me more time to think about how I was going to ask him here for lunch (Jayfeather was always a busy man).
"Good morning, St. Thomas Hospital, Jayfeather speaking," came the tired voice from the other side of the phone.
"Hi, Jayfeather, it's me."
"What do you want, Dad?" he was obviously rather harassed at that time.
"I hate to ask, but do you think you'll be home for lunch?"
"Yeah, but why do you ask?" I heard the scribbling of a pen, so he was still busy.
"I found some stuff I'd like to show you, it's rather odd. And I think it's quite important as well, for some reason." This sounds pathetic.
"Well…I'll be there soon…" he was also rather puzzled. "Bye, Dad." He hung up the phone. Now all I had to do was wait.
-x-
"Dad, I'm home!" I heard my son come through the door and into the hallway. "What do you have to show me?"
"Be there in a second," I called back as I grabbed all of the things that I had found and ran down the stairs.
"Better be good, because I had a waiting list of six people I had to transfer to Willowshine," he grumbled, but then added, "Well, actually I don't mind, that headcase can deal with however many she wants to."
I entered the ground floor with the knick-knacks I had found.
"Is that it?" he looked sceptical, who could blame him?
"Look closer at this trophy," I urged.
"First Place, 400m 1987, Brambleclaw?" he looked back in confusion.
"And look at this picture," I passed to him. "It's dated your birthday eight years ago."
"But…it's only been six months since we transformed," he looked closer at the picture. "Are you sure this isn't a practical joke?"
"Positive," I was sure of it. "Read this journal. That's the weirdest thing." Jayfeather walked over to the armchair next to the one I was sitting in and started to read the journal. It took him about fifteen minutes to read all the parts I had Post-It™ Noted, his faced growing more and more confused as he read on.
"But that sounds like a human version of your journey," he wondered aloud when he had finished.
"That's what I thought," I said. "It's not even made up, that's a journey that actually happened in our life, our cat life. But who would do such a thing? Why re-write history?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I can ask StarClan now, if you want."
"That would be great, thanks," I was grateful for his help. My son always had strange connections, but I always thought he had a destiny unlike no other. Jayfeather got up and disappeared upstairs. I waited eagerly for his return.
-JAYFEATHER PoV-
The things that my father had found astounded me. I felt like I should have recalled many of the memories that were locked inside those knick-knacks, but they didn't have a place in my mind. Opening the bedroom door I led on my bed and began to fall into a slumber.
I opened my eyes to bright lights and bustling voices. Getting up, I looked around in confusion, I realised I was sat at the front of a rather large resort park. I looked around for someone I recognised, but it was people who I had never managed to see in their human form. Just then, I felt a tap of a walking stick on my head. Looking back in anger, I saw Yellowfang.
"What in the name of StarClan are you doing outside the gates, Jayfeather?" she grumbled.
"Gates? What have you done with StarClan?" I gasped in horror.
"We built a massive complex," she replied nonchalantly. "We can't meet as humans around a pond. We need a real place to meet. So we built a business park, resort, spa and Jacuzzi centre. And it has a gateway into your world through the font of Westminster Abbey. If we've been good people down there, how can you expect us to watch over you on uncomfortable and frankly lame grass?"
"But isn't this ground holy?" I tried reasoning with the spirit.
"It was, but then we got the builders to fill them all in," Yellowfang twitched her nose. "Look, what did you want? I was tanning nicely by the pool before I got wind of you being here!"
"I want to ask you something," I started. "Can you bring Spottedleaf, Firestar and Bluestar with you?"
"Whatever, your Majesty," she sniffed and we walked into the reception area. There were many different coloured fountains and the floor was varnished to the point that you felt you were in a house of mirrors. The floor itself was chequerboard-pattered all the way down the steps. "We have the business suites up there." She pointed to a sign that said 'Fourtrees Meeting Rooms 1-7' and we followed the arrows. I could see the silhouettes of gatherers in these rooms, probably ancestors meeting about their relatives or other living people that needed to contact them. "I think this one's free until three. You wait here while I get those three." I sat in the meeting room, which had very formal swivel chairs and a glass table. There were places for drinks around the table, carved intricately into the glass itself. As I sat down, there was action by the door.
"Hey, it's Jayfeather!" Granddad entered the room with a wispy blue-grey haired woman and a dappled haired young woman, with Yellowfang at the back. "What did you want to talk to us about?"
"You know my father, right?" I started.
"How could we not," Yellowfang spat but was hit in the side by who I presumed to be Spottedleaf.
"He went up into our attic, and found a journal, a trophy and a picture. On further inspection, he noticed that it was us in our younger days. But we weren't even human, then. There's a picture of my siblings and I, dated 16th August 2005. That's over seven years before the Transformation. Can you explain?"
"We don't know anything!" Spottedleaf, Yellowfang and the woman I presumed to be Bluestar said a bit too quickly.
"Hang on," Granddad led across the table. "So you mean to say someone tried to re-write history?"
"That's what the journal was saying," I told him. Turning back to the women, I asked, "Are you sure that you don't know anything about it? Because if you can't or won't tell me, I'll find out myself."
"We don't know anything," Bluestar rushed. The two medicine cats nodded with their ex-leader.
"Well, if you're sure," I mumbled. I didn't believe them for a second, but I decided not to make a song and dance of it until I had sufficient evidence. "Thanks for meeting me." I let myself out. Walking out of the corridor and out of the lobby, I began to think that StarClan were not the wisest spirits. They had started to let us down before the Hollyleaf Gathering, and now they were starting to become bystanders rather than active spirits. Despite the peace that was filling the country at the moment, I had a horrible feeling that it was about to change. A war was coming, I knew it. It could be tomorrow, it could be in a few years, but nothing could remain peaceful forever. The storm could be about to break.
We'll find out who you voted for next chapter!
Review (please! I promise it will be worth your while!)
*hugs reviewers*
Regards,
Leo.
PS – 6,500 words. Phew!
PPS – Please keep sending suggestions for Nuke Oneshots!
PPPS – I have updated my SpongeBob fic! If you follow it, or you like SpongeBob, head to the fic through my profile page!
