2: Roses Wither Away

Alonzo crept in to the old pipe. Munkustrap had informed the tribe of Quaxo's fate that morning. It had hit the queen kittens hard, Jelly and Asparagus too. Victoria had locked herself in her room, Jemima had not moved from her place on top of the old television, looking out endlessly at the sky and Electra hadn't spoken a word to anyone. CB and Bill had also barely spoken since they found out, Admetus was trying to stay strong. And as for Lonz, he didn't know what to do. At times he felt anger towards Griddlebone, but really what could she have done? He saved her of his own free will. At times he felt guilt because he should have been there to keep his little brother safe. And at other times he felt broken, because Quaxo had meant so much to him and they had been through so much together.

As he came in to the centre of the old pipe, where it opened up in to a living space, he found himself surrounded by Quaxo's scent, his belongings. It was as if he had never left, as if he was still living here. He took a deep breath. He hadn't prepared himself for this, perhaps he shouldn't have come at all. But no, he had to see him. He turned, going in to the room where Quaxo used to sleep. And there he was, laid out on the bed, the red silk over him. He looked as if he was sleeping, as if Alonzo could just walk up to him and wake him up. But he knew he couldn't.

It wasn't the Quaxo Alonzo knew that lay here, which made it easier in a way. Mistoffelees and Quaxo were one and the same he knew that really. But to cope with losing his brother he had to separate the two in his mind. Mistoffelees had died, Quaxo had just gone away for a while. But as he looked at the sleeping face, the sad smile still lingering on his brother's lips, he knew there was virtually no difference between his kit brother and the conjuring tom.

"He looks like we could wake him, doesn't he" came a soft voice from the shadows. Alonzo looked up to see Electra step forward. He felt sure it was the first time she had spoken since she had been told.

"He's not coming back this time El" Alonzo replied. Electra looked away, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"He was a bad choice from the start I guess. First Victoria fell for him, then evil came for him, then humans...took him. But I still don't care Lonz, I think I loved him" Electra replied, coming quietly to join him by Quaxo's bedside.



"Did you tell him?"

"I didn't have to, he knew" she smiled. Lonz smiled back, glancing back down at his brother.

"We should leave him be…I'm sure he'll have more visitors before midnight tonight" Alonzo sighed. Electra nodded.

"My father will come, Jemmi, Vic…your brothers?"

"I doubt they'll come. They're finding it hard enough."

"Yes…but somehow it helps to be close to him."

"I know El, but we can't stay here forever."

"I wish we could though."

--

"Daylight,

See the dew on a sunflower,

And a rose that is fading,

Roses wither away,

Like the sunflower I yearn to turn my face to the dawn,

I am waiting for the day."

Jemima's voice broke through the hush clearly, gently. The Jellicles all got up, coming to stand together. Munkustrap stood on the tyre facing them and Jemima looked down on it all silently, with wide eyes and an understanding that always came to her when she sang that old Jellicle song. So ancient that only a few fragments of the lyrics were still known, fragments like the verse she had just sung. The verse that was now the opening to Quaxo's funeral. He had been her truest friend but for Victoria. He understood the moon and the stars that she practically lived by, what would she do without him to teach her new things about the night sky she loved so much?



"I can't say enough words to express what Quaxo meant to us all. We all loved him, he was impossible not to love. But without him, life must move on. We must move on. We shall bury him tonight, beneath the oldest oak and he shall be reborn. One day he will return to us, we must keep faith, keep hope. And we must remember the moments of happiness."

Jemima stood again now, she had to sing, the moon was calling her to. She felt all eyes turn to her in the silence and then slowly the moon's music wrapped around her and she began.

"Sunlight through the trees in summer

Endless masquerading

Like a flower as the dawn is breaking

The memory is fading.

Moonlight,

Turn your face to the moonlight

Let your memory lead you

Open up, enter in

If you find there, the meaning of what happiness is,

Then a new life will begin."

Munk smiled sadly as she sat back down.

"Perhaps we should keep the words of our most ancient songs close to our hearts as we try to move on. As we try to understand…" Munk paused, glancing at Tugger who sat so still it scared him. Tugger's eyes didn't move from the red silk, draped over the tux where they had laid his body.

"I'll never find another friend like that, we'll never find another tom like that. Face it Munk, if he ever comes back to us he will have changed. But…it's like he said. We need to remember. He doesn't belong in today, but that doesn't mean we can forget yesterday. Sometimes…sometimes our memories can make us smile…" Tugger said, his voice cutting 

through the Junkyard much to the surprise of the others. Silence again. Tugger couldn't let this be how they remembered his Tux, awkward silences and miserable speechlessness. He jumped down from his place by the old wireless and began to sing in that gentle voice he so rarely used, the voice he had welcomed his father back with at the Ball.

"The greatest magicians have something to learn

From Mr.Mistoffelees' conjuring turn

And we all say

Oh well I never was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr.Mistoffelees."

And as the cheerful song filled the Junkyard, the other Jellicles joining in at their cues, the stars glimmered as if they were dancing…or even as if they were being danced on by the most beloved of magicians. But there was no one to see this small sign of hope, because they were all too busy paying one final tribute to the magical, the marvellous, Mr.Mistoffelees.

--

"For waiting up there is the Heaviside Layer…..yeah right. I know you're here Tux……please tell me you're here Tux. I'm so lost without you. There's no one left who knows the pain like you did, no one left who knows when to tease me, no one who can make me feel…just make me feel. This place is no fun without you."

They were variations on a theme, the words he chose. Just different ways of saying the same thing he had been coming here to say for weeks now: come back Tux, I need you. He was rarely seen in the Junkyard, since the accident nothing had been the same.

Jemima had virtually stopped singing, and when she did sing it was usually only to stop her soul from pining for the moon's music. Victoria didn't dance with passion anymore, she danced to dance. Etcetera had calmed down to a background babble and Electra focused on making herself invisible to the world, only coming out in plain view at night to talk to the blackness…to talk to Quaxo. CB, Bill and Admetus had practically given up on their pranks and games and Alonzo barely even attempted to win over the queens. 

Even Skimble was subdued and Munk lacked his past energy. It seemed they all found strength in their little tux. But none so much as Tugger.

Tugger didn't dance or sing anymore unless it was for Misto. He spent most of his days at the oldest oak, talking and pleading away the hours. He was broken. He was becoming tired of his efforts doing nothing to bring back his little magician. If I just disappeared, died away so I could be with him again, would anyone really notice? The only person who would care is already dead. He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the grass.

Electra appeared, her fur a deep reddish brown in the dappled light that crept through the trees. She carried in her hands a single red rose. It had become Misto's symbol in recent weeks, the rose that is fading before the dawn just like he did. He died just before dawn in Tugger's arms. Tugger shook back the memories and watched her lay the rose on Misto's grave.

"So it's you that hasn't forgotten this place, you that leaves him these roses" he said gently. She looked up in to the crook of the branches and saw him sitting there calmly.

"Forgetting this place would mean forgetting him and……and I just can't do that" she replied quietly. He nodded, it was something he understood all to well. He paused, studying her face a moment.

"You really cared about him didn't you" he said softly. She smiled sadly.

"I could say the same about you……but yes, I did care about him very much. Still do, the feeling never goes away. Quaxo was just special…different. Quaxo didn't pretend he was anything other than Quaxo. He was what he was, no matter how quirky it was and I loved that about him. The other tom kits, they all tried to be something they weren't, tried to prove they could be like you. And they weren't…"

"They couldn't be" Tugger replied with a quick grin. Electra laughed gently.

"You have his sense of humour" she sighed. Tugger smiled forlornly. Neither one of them spoke again, but instead just listened as the wind rustled through the trees.

--

Jemima sat on top of the old television, her face turned towards the skies. She had always enjoyed stargazing alone, but sometimes Quaxo had joined her, pointing out new things as they watched. And it was nights like this that she realised just how special it was to stargaze with Quaxo. She missed learning new snippets of information, she missed him blowing stardust in to the sky and watching his magic make it settle above them turning in to soft lights. Admittedly, he had only revealed his magic to her recently, but still it was missable.

She smiled as a shooting star traversed the sky, looking back out over the Junkyard sadly. Then a fragment of conversation drifted back to her.
"Make a wish" she smiled from under her lashes at Quaxo. He laughed.
"You can if you like but you know, shooting stars are actually the souls of magic cats returning to earth after a long time away" Quaxo said softly.

Jemima looked back at the shooting star. If magic cats could come back, then surely maybe one day after a long time away, Quaxo would return to them. She smiled and silently begged Everlasting Cat to keep her hope alive.

--

Electra ate her dinner in silence. Her father was going back to work tomorrow and none of them could help but let their minds wander to the reason he had been off work for so long. Quaxo. Jemima smiled at her reassuringly.

"I have something to tell you El" she whispered. Jenny shot her a warning glance.

"No gossip at the table" she said sternly, her anger another effect of Quaxo's death as Jenny had always been such a soft heart before. Skimble didn't say anything, he just continued with his dinner.

"What is it?" Electra asked, trying to sound genuinely interested although really her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of recent events. She was still grappling with the idea that he was really gone.

"I saw a shooting star last night, and it got me thinking about what Quaxo said about them. That they were really the souls of magical cats returning to earth after a long time away. And I think…in fact I feel sure that because Quaxo was magic then he too could 

return one day after a long time away. I know it's a long shot, but it is hope El" Jemima whispered. Electra smiled broadly, hope filling her.

"Wait until I tell Tugger" she breathed. Jemima raised an eyebrow.

"No one has seen Tugger in weeks…"

"Well, maybe most people haven't" Electra smiled, tapping her nose then quickly turning back to her food. Jemima laughed and she too returned to her meal.

Skimble let out a heavy sigh.

"Maybe you shouldn't go tomorrow" Jenny said kindly, putting a paw on his shoulder.

Skimble knew she was right really, but he already felt as if he had spent too much time off and he feared he may be losing his touch. Although obviously, as Jenny had pointed out several times, that wasn't possible. He had seen and experienced too much loss in his time, but this was somehow different. It was another kind of loss he felt. He treated most of the Jellicle as if they were his kits but only a select few did he ever take on to be, almost genuinely, his own kits. Jemima, Rumpleteazer, Carbucketty and Quaxo were those lucky few. But Quaxo had been just that little bit different. Instead of son or best friend, Quaxo was more like a pupil to their favourite teacher. He understood the boundaries that couldn't be crossed which a son never would. But he took instruction and followed it which a friend would never put up with. They were friends, but still Quaxo knew that Skimble had the authority. It was a relationship Skimble doubted he would ever find with anyone again.

"Don't worry dad, just do what you think feels right and things will sort themselves out" Jemima smiled gently. Skimble smiled back. Maybe the girl was right, maybe one day everything would sort itself out. But until then, he should rest at home a week or two longer and hope that the grief would dull down to a mere throb at the back of his mind.