CHAPTER ONE
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Who killed the Cat in the Hat?
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December 4th, 2005
Dear Diary,
I suppose this whole mess started with one man.
Not just any ordinary man, mind you. This man was a genius. Theodore Geisel was his name, and for years he dedicated his life to making reading easy and fun for all ages. Really, a remarkable man who is rightfully loved and praised the world over.
Trouble is, he died.
September 21st, 1991, Ted Geisel died at the age of 87. Dr. Seuss was gone.
That very same day, we were thought into being.
It was nobody's fault, really. Not ours, not his, not even the fault of the children who had loved us and read about us for years. It just HAPPENED. One minute I was happily safe on the page of a book, juggling toy boats and a very cranky goldfish, the next minute I was HERE. Just…. HERE. Not anywhere else, just EXISTING. So was Horton, the Grinch, Sam-I-Am, Thiddwick, The Lorax…. All of us. None of us questioned why, or stopped to think about how.
Because a young child was looking at us with wonder.
There is one rule that all Seussians live by, no matter how small.
Children are precious, and worth our time.
It's been nearly 16 years now. 16 years of children, laughter, and making the smiles appear every time I enter a room. And yet… 16 years of adults and their sourness, and 16 years without rest for this poor cat. I'm TIRED, diary. Tired, and lonely. I'm always there for whoever needs a pick-you-up or a trick or two from my hat, but who's there for ME?
I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. A cat can only smile for so long.
Signed, C.H
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Chicago, for all intents and purposes, was a good city to hide in.
Not too crowded, and not too sparsely populated, and just crazy enough that no one would take notice of a strangely hooded person walking slowly on the streets. Fox in Socks smiled to himself. It just barely covered his tail, his trench coat did, but it got the job done, and no one even looked his way as he walked towards his favorite hangout spot. It was a stroke of luck on his part. Anti-Seuss feelings had been growing recently, and attacks were becoming less and less of a rarity. He sighed sadly. It boggled his mind how people could POSSIBLY hate them. Hadn't those same adults that had pelted McGurkus's Circus with bricks grown UP with that story? Didn't they remember reading "One fish, Two Fish"? Obviously not, as Seussian fish had entered their diet as a delicacy. Luckily, all the fish got wind of that before hand, and moved deeper into McElligot's pool before any harm came to them. Not even the cat HIMSELF was safe anymore. Fox shuddered. As the official Seuss spokescat, the enigmatic cat had met each and every threat with a mischievous grin and a well-placed rhyme, and he usually won his case without a hitch. Seemed EVERYONE loved him, seemed like it for a LONG time, Fox thought grimly. It wasn't true anymore, anyway. A death threat had been sent, and even the cat was knocked for a loop. It wasn't often that the Cat sounded afraid of ANYTHING, but his urgency that Fox meet with him had hinted at just how frightened he really was. Spying the restaurant, Fox quickly crossed the street to it, entering the establishment without a sound. It wasn't hard to spot the Cat, it rarely WAS. Not only was he out in plain daylight with his ridiculous striped hat and no disguise, but he also had been located by at least a dozen children and was once again taking time to entertain. Shaking his head, Fox approached him. "Just can't help yourself, can you?"
The Cat dropped a few of the items he had been juggling and gave Fox a smirk. "No I can't. Could you? After all, making children happy is what I DO." The children laughed at that, and a few attached themselves to his leg. He patted their heads, and waved good-bye as their parents pried them away, then turned to Fox. "I'm glad you made it, my friend." His smile faltered slightly, and he sighed. "I thought this day would never end."
"Drop the rhyming, Cat. You do NOT talk like that when kids aren't around." He laughed and motioned to a table. "Have a seat, Cat. You look AWFUL."
"I FEEL awful", The Cat took the seat gratefully, and only then did he let his ears droop. He really did look bad; His fur was all matted and ruffled, whiskers unwashed, and bags had collected under his usually bright and eager eyes. Fox patted his friend sympathetically on the shoulder, and The Cat smiled weakly. "It's bad enough that I have to deal with Anti-Seuss lobbyists every day. Now THIS!" He reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a piece of ripped paper. Fox took it and looked it over. It was a roughly written threat, warning that whoever wrote it would strike if Cat spoke to the press again.
He shook his head, disgusted. "Who would have the NERVE?" He tucked it away in his trench coat. "I would usually say not to worry about it, given the quality, but with the rise in violence, Cat, I would take this VERY seriously." His friend's eyes widened in fear. Fox grimaced and continued. "I mean it. Last thing we need is our leader ending up dead, or worse."
The Cat gulped. " W-Worse? There is something WORSE?"
Fox in Socks nodded. "Being unthunked. It happens to those Seussian characters that children no longer want or need. Some of our enemies have striven to turn the children against us."
"WHAT!" The Cat banged his paw on the table. "That is the…. The SICKEST thing I've ever heard! Children are the purest beings alive, and we were made SPECIFICALLY for them." He was steaming now. "Or did they all forget that they were children at one point?"
Fox just sighed. "Calm yourself, kitty. It doesn't happen all that often. Last report we had of it was about six years ago, to a small flying fizzwhit. Oh, and Oobleck doesn't exist anymore, but those are the only two examples I know of." He smiled. "Don't worry. There's no WAY they'll unthink you, Cat. You're the best one of the bunch".
"No I'm not…" The Cat rested his head on his paws and sniffled. "I'm not much of a leader, and I'm not much of a CAT." He sighed. "Mr. Krinklebine was right, Fox. Who's ever heard of a six-foot cat?"
"Don't talk like that." Fox stood up and offered one sock-covered paw to the distraught cat. "Come on, it's time we got you back to headquarters. Solla Sollew's waiting."
The Cat laughed weakly. "Solla Sollew…. I had a lot of trouble getting there, you know."
"That joke's as old as you are, Cat."
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Solla Sollew, when it was thought into being, quickly became the main Seuss headquarters and capital city of sorts, where all the creatures and characters went to live and work. It held the Cat's Grand Poobah office, the only Gink Ink shop in the world, and a small grove for truffula trees to grow. It also had a marvelous playground where all kids were welcome, no matter how old (after all, You're Only Old once).
Horton loved it there.
He was one of the few that praised "The Great Think" (as it was called). He had met his wife because of it. Miss Gertrude McFuzz, the prettiest girl bird that ever flew in his opinion, and an excellent mother to Junior, the Elephant bird. Junior was a wingful most of the time, and Horton's inability to fly had made raising him hard on his own. At the moment, they were all sitting in the park, enjoying the warm sunshine and eating their lunches on the grass in the shade of the Truffula trees.
"What a BEAUTIFUL day!" Gertrude exclaimed, and smiled at Horton. "Don't you think so?"
Horton nodded enthusiastically. "It really is. Everything's great in Solla Sollew, you know. They never have problems."
"Or at least, very few," Gertrude finished for him, and gave him a quick kiss on the trunk. He nuzzled her back, then turned his attention to Junior. He was busy flying after the other Seussian children and a few strange creatures who joined in. Horton smiled. As Junior got older, he had become rather aware of how different he was from other animals. Granted, there were stranger things than elephant birds there, but there was only one of Junior. The stranger creatures all had others like them, the Whos were their own community, and all the Sneetches banded together. Only one elephant bird… and it depressed him.
So it was always a good thing when the others included him in their games and activities, a nice ego boost for a very inquisitive and smart child. Horton smiled and waved at him as he flew by. "He's growing up so FAST, Gertie…"
"I KNOW." She patted him gently. "You're doing FINE, honey. Don't worry so much."
Horton shook his head. "I can't help it. I don't want anything happening to him." He sighed. "You know the attitude of the world outside our city. One day, Junior WILL go out there, and what if he's hurt or worse? I can't always be there for him!"
Gertrude laughed and hugged his trunk. "Horton, you worry too much! Junior will be FINE. He's a thinker, with brains in his head. He'll do just FINE." Horton smiled, but he couldn't help but worry. He had heard about all the attacks, and though it greatly worried him, he felt totally safe in Solla Sollew. That worried him, though. Why HADN'T anything happened in there yet? They weren't supposed to have troubles there, but how could they avoid it, as troubles seemed to gather closer to them?
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CRITIQUE? QUESTIONS? CRITISISM?