Eight: Before the Ball

"I have a problem."

Mistoffelees looked up. "How come I'm not surprised? Have you told her yet?"

Tugger sat down heavily on the tire next to the magician. "No, not yet. I don't even know how to begin."

"You've never had any problem with walking away before. Just tell her that you've got a job somewhere, and that you can't stay just for her."

"I can't?" Tugger looked up.

"Now you're being a bigger idiot than usual." Mistoffelees rolled his eyes. "Of course you can't. You are not a human; you are just playing one for a while. You are a Jellicle."

"I know that!"

"Then what's the problem?"

Tugger sighed. "I'm going with Paige to the dance."

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"You don't get it. She expects me to take her there."

"Yeees..?"

"In a car."

Mistoffelees couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah. A little too much to ask of someone who has only been human for a week, eh?"

"Yes," muttered Tugger miserably. "And even if I could learn how to drive, which I can't, where would we find one? A car is not like spare change. If Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer could manage to steal one, the humans would notice it, and there would be consequences."

"That's very insightful of you, Tug. As far as I've known you, you haven't cared much for consequences at all."

"Maybe being human for a while has done me good." The former cat grinned a little. Then he remembered his troubles and sighed again. "You got a plan?"

"For the car?" Mistoffelees pondered this. "No, not yet. Well, there is one thing... But it would... No, it could work. But then I'd have to take some of the transformation spell from you and bring it over to something else."

"Like what?"

The magician's face split into a sudden, inspired grin. "Well... We've got a car."

He nodded towards the TSE 1. Tugger looked at it. The car was so covered in rust he could hardly see its original colour. The seats were torn, the engine was gone, it smelled like something had died in it and the hubcaps had been stolen a long time ago. In short, the TSE 1 was not in condition to be on the streets. It could only barely be called a car at all.

"I love a challenge," purred Mistoffelees. "I've got just the thing. You just worry about your Paige, Prince Charming. When is the dance, again?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Perfect. Okay. I want you back here again at the very latest one hour before you have to go and pick her up. What do you think about making it a red one?" He squinted at the TSE 1. Little sparks were dancing like stars in his black fur. "Or perhaps black. I think black is more you, come to think of it." He looked at Tugger and nodded. "Oh yes. Definitely black. Now scoot. I need to prepare, and you need to find something suitable to wear. Scoot!"

The magician butted Tugger to make him move, and the man stood up.

"Fine, fine, I'm going... One hour, you said?"

"One hour. I think I can make the necessary adjustments in that time."

"Okay. See you then."

Mistoffelees was barely paying attention anymore. He was inspecting the TSE 1 out of every angle, laughing silently to himself as he did. Tugger shrugged. He was already getting bored, so he might as well take a walk. It was a Thursday night. Paige had told him earlier that if she wanted to get permission to go to the dance at all, she must spend some quality time at home tonight, and thus she couldn't see him. It annoyed him a little bit more than he wanted to admit.

He toyed with the idea of going to Bombalurina's house and wait for her to come out. He had only seed the red queen once or twice during the last few days. She seemed to be deeply insulted about something. Maybe she felt that he was somehow cheating on her with Paige, and perhaps that was why she kept out of his way. He would have to grovel before her when he was back to normal, but she would take him back. Bombalurina always took him back.

Nah. Better to let her seethe by her lonesome before she realized how much she wanted him. Tugger kind of missed the way their relationship worked. They both drove each other crazy with mind games and manipulations, but it worked, somehow. They both knew that.

'Maybe I should ask her to be my mate,' Tugger thought as he wandered down a nameless street. 'It's what she wants. And it should be about time.'

The odd couple, that searched for love everywhere. When they had not found it straight away they had both settled for the next best thing with each other, and something had started to grow. An affection, perhaps. Maybe it was love. He didn't know. Whatever it was, perhaps it was time to make it official.

Tugger stared at the pavement as he walked, and to his surprise he found that he recognized the crack in the asphalt. He stopped abruptly and looked up. He knew this street better than any place in the world. It was such a peaceful place. Friendly neighbours. Very few dogs. And in one of the houses, the one with the cat-door in the upper window, lived a girl who's life he'd changed. She was probably sitting with her parents now, watching TV. Maybe she wondered where her cat had run off to. Knowing Paige, she would be a nervous wreck, though she had never shown him that on any of their dates. He had noticed, though, how she kept looking around hopefully as soon as a cat meowed, and how she frowned and looked worried when it turned out to be a stray.

Tugger found that he was staring at her window, and he hurriedly tore his eyes off it. What if anyone should see him standing here? They'd think he was some kind of pervert. But he couldn't walk away.

"Damn it," he mumbled.

The next day arrived. Tugger began preparing from the moment he got up. He was not feeling well. Mistoffelees had not permitted him to sleep in the TSE 1 as usual out of fear that he would mess up the spell, so Tugger had made himself as comfortable as he could in a pile of old cardboard boxes. When he woke up he was hurting all over, and not even the purred "good mornings" of his fangirls could lighten his mood. He was also feeling a very disturbing knot of nervousness in the pit of his stomach, which was not something he was used to.

He used Jemima's flat for a shower (breaking into other people's homes was basically routine by now) and stole a pair of black jeans and jacket, a white shirt, and a pair of dark shoes that looked much fancier than the old trainers.

As the day progressed the knot grew into a lump, and he was almost physically nauseous. He paced the junkyard again and again, waiting for and dreading the moment that must come.

The area around the TSE 1 was strangely... blurred. It was like watching the car from very far away and through a dirty window. When you relaxed your eyes you could see small things like taillights or a reflex in a shining surface, but whenever you tried to focus on it, it was gone. Mistoffelees like privacy when he worked.

Tugger had nothing to do. Whenever he tried to sit down and relax he immediately jumped up again so that he wouldn't ruin his jeans. Then he paced for a while, tried a few dance steps to calm his nerves, and tried to practice on how he was going to tell Paige. On the top of the old washing machine sat Victoria, Jemima, Electra, Etcetera, Pouncival and Tumblebrutus, watching him with a mixture of bemusement and awe.

"Um, I have really enjoyed my time with you, Paige," Tugger muttered to himself. "It's been a real honour... Can I say that? Sounds ridiculous. Okay." He stopped and took a deep breath. "Unfortunately I've gotten a job... A very important job in... Barcelona. That's really far away. And, and it's been fun, but this... I'm sorry."

"You could try 'it's not you, it's me'," suggested Pouncival helpfully. "My human always says that on the phone whenever he's breaking up with someone. He does that a lot."

"Thanks, pipsqueak, but I prefer to do this by myself." With a sigh Tugger sat down, and jumped up when reminded of the filth at the junkyard. He continued pacing. "Dear Paige. I really wish I didn't have to go, but... I'm sorry, but..." Tugger groaned. "I can't do this. She'll hate me."

"She'll hate you even more if you just disappear," Mistoffelees piped up suddenly. He looked tired, but was grinning broadly.

Tugger immediately turned all his attention to the magician. "Did you do it?"

Mistoffelees nodded. "All it needs now is a little bit of the spell on you."

"Okay. How does that work?"

"Well." Mistoffelees jumped over and landed perfectly on the front of the still blurry TSE 1. "So far the spell is just a glamour, to make the car look as good as I think it does. To make sure that it will also work, I'll have to take some of the transformation spell off you and transfer it to the car. Just a little bit. Won't take long."

"I see. And how, exactly, am I supposed to drive that car? You're not saying I'll improvise it?"

"Tugger, the day I'm letting you out in traffic will be the same day that a Pollicle gets a clever thought in his head." Mistoffelees snorted. "Don't worry. It's part of the glamour. It will seem like you're doing the driving, but the car will get the proper coordinates and take you and your lady there, no problem. And if we can get this over and done with soon, I would be extremely grateful."

"Fine. Work your magic."

"Thank you."

It only took a moment or two for Mistoffelees to transfer the spell. He sat on top of the washing machine so that he was facing Tugger, who bent down so that the magician could reach. Then Mistoffelees held out his paws and allowed them to rest on Tugger's face. The paws were so small and soft that Tugger barely noticed them on his skin. He became aware of a humming in the air, and then that Mistoffelees breathed on him. Tugger felt dizzy for a second, and he grabbed for the washing machine to steady himself. When his head cleared the transfer had already been made, and in the place of the old, rusty TSE 1 there stood a fully equipped black car that shone dully in the light of the streetlamps.

"I say, my friend, you've truly outdid yourself," said Tugger and stroke Mistoffelees over the head.

The magician couldn't help but purr. "Flatterer. Now get inside."

Almost reverently, Tugger opened the door to the car and sat down in the driver seat. The smell of mould had been wished away, thankfully, and instead there was a fresh scent of pinewood and leather inside the car. In the ignition sat a key, which shimmered like gold. A key-ring in the form of a cat silhouette in black leather dangled from it, a very nice touch.

"Turning that key makes the car start," Mistoffelees informed him from outside the window. "That's basically all you need to know." He regarded Tugger with amusement. "Here goes, Tug. The final test. Dance like a human."

Immediately the lump in the pit of Tugger's stomach returned, and he grimaced. "Thanks for calming me down, Misto."

"I think it's endearing to see you so frazzled. Very sweet."

"I'm not frazzled, I'm just nervous."

"Still, it's charming."

"Remember, I can still wring your neck." Tugger's grin faded, and he looked serious. "Thanks for this, though. I owe you one."

Mistoffeles looked insulted. "Oh, you owe me more than one for this! That's at least a dozen you owe me. But you're welcome."

The two nodded at each other. Tugger looked at the key, and then he slowly turned it. The engine, which had not been there that morning, roared to life. The car trembled, as if it felt it had been forced to stand still for so long and now couldn't wait to get out onto the open road again. Tugger smiled.

"Tell it where to go, and it'll take you there," Mistoffelees called out. "And you behave! And don't forget to tell her!"

Tugger closed the door, and Mistoffelees' voice became muffled by the humming of the car. Still, as he let the car roll away from the junkyard and out on the street, he could clearly hear the magician calling out: "And I want you home by midnight!"

Tugger arrived to Paige's house early, which he hadn't planned on, but since he couldn't well hang around in the car he decided to go up and ring the doorbell. He heard steps from inside, a horrified squeak, some mumbling words, and then the door opened. In the opening stood a woman in her late thirties, with Paige's brown hair and eyes, and looked at him with some surprise.

"Um, hi," said Tugger politely. "I'm here to pick up Paige."

The woman broke into a smile. "You are this Tom Tugger we've been hearing so much about, then? Come on in!" She stepped aside, allowing him to pass. "Paige is still getting ready. You're early."

Tugger went inside, and the door closed behind him. Paige's mother was still smiling, and he saw where Paige had inherited her way of making the sun shine through her eyes. Tugger had never seen Mrs Talbot smile at him like that before. She had usually just been annoyed with him and shouted at him. Now she was polite and kind, and he found that he actually liked her. Perhaps it was because she smiled like Paige.

The flat seemed very small now that he was so big. When you were so close to the floor, you didn't see the things on the tables. When Tugger looked around now, he saw pictures everywhere. Photographs of Paige when she was little, pictures of her with her cousins, with her parents, and also a framed version of the one with himself on her lap, that Paige kept in her backpack. A corner of Tugger's mouth turned up when he saw that.

In a large armchair in the living room sat Paige's father. He did not look too happy about seeing Tugger in his house, but still Mrs Talbot insisted he'd sit down with him while she went to check on Paige. When she left the two, it got awkwardly quiet. Mr Talbot looked suspiciously at Tugger, who didn't know exactly what to say.

"I assume you know that Paige is very important to me," said Mr Talbot finally. He sounded very grim.

"Of course," answered Tugger honestly.

It was strange... Mr Talbot had been a figure of ridicule more than anything when Tugger'd been a cat. He was short and thin, with poor upper body strength and no muscles to speak of. Tugger had never even considered ever being nervous around him, since he obviously was so much stronger than Paige's father and could easily defeat him with one hand behind his back. However, now Mr Talbot had something fierce in his eyes, a determination that frankly did the former cat a little nervous.

"Also I assume that you know she is only fifteen years old," continued Mr Talbot, looking Tugger sternly in the eyes.

"Yes... sir." Tugger had no idea what came over him. He had not called anyone "sir" for a very long time, and then it had been Bustopher Jones, who was a far more impressive character than this wrecked specimen.

"I hope I can trust you when you tell me that you won't try anything... stupid with her."

"I... I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be stupid, Mr Tugger. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You are older than Paige and I assume more... experienced. I'm letting you know now that I have connections with the police, and if she comes home and even breathes a word about you being anything but a gentleman, I'll have you locked up before you can say 'oops.' Are we on the same page, Mr Tugger?"

Tugger put all his sincerity in his following sentence. "Mr Talbot, I have nothing but the highest opinion of your daughter. You have my word that nothing will happen to her."

"I am very pleased to hear that." Mr Talbot leaned back into his chair.

"I hope you're being good to the poor boy, dear," said Mrs Talbot as she walked down the stairs. "Tom, would you like something to drink?"

"Um, oh, no, thank you."

Tugger wanted to get out of there. He didn't like sitting next to Mr Talbot, who looked like he wanted to murder him and leave his mangled corpse by the road for stray Pollicles so eat, and there was a spring in the couch that was poking him in the back. He was seriously considering fleeing out to the car to wait instead, when something happened.

A door opened, and Paige walked downstairs.