Once the shadows had moved halfway across the alley, that his mate still hadn't come to bed was impossible to ignore. Baba stood up and meandered through the alley, finally spotting her at the far end. She sat in front of the gate. Motionless. But he could tell by the way the tip of her tail was twitching that she wasn't her usual sunny self. He came to sit by her side, and she barely acknowledged his presence with a subtle twist of the ear closest to him. But then she huffed a sigh and spoke quietly―her voice low with displeasure, as well as respect for those who slept. "That boy has no gratitude for what we all went through. And neither does she!"
"I think you're wrong."
Mama looked at him, eyes narrow, even though she hadn't taken offense to his no-nonsense tone. "Why?"
"Do you remember how happy she was the day we found her? I don't think she is ungrateful," he continued thoughtfully, "Just incapable of a true understanding of what we went through. At least, until she finds her son," he concluded.
"Which she wouldn't have to do if he had taken his family into account! Now everything we did for him, everything Sagwa did―" Mama shook her head, still peering into the shadows. "Stumbling in the dark, hungry, cold, wet, miserable. Day after day, after day. Only to lose her again. I feel like the punchline to a sick joke."
"She is not lost. She is with Siao-Po."
"And tell me he's not lost," she goaded, and looked at him when he was quiet. "The daughter I remember is kind and caring! But maybe she and Siao-Po got together too young. Because it felt like she was lost when she was here."
"She will be here again. And maybe you should share your concerns with her."
"Because it worked out so well for our girls?"
"Because maybe Sheegwa still feels lost, too. Need I remind you, Shao-Fun, it has been some time since she and her mother had a discussion."
Mama was quiet. He stood up and walked back to where they preferred to rest; and sensing his son's presence, Yeh-Yeh opened his eyes and watched him pass. Then he stood up on his aging legs and stiffly moved out from underneath the boards constructing one of the ramps. It took him a few seconds longer to reach his daughter-in-law. "I do believe he's right," Yeh-Yeh started to say. But she uncharacteristically interrupted, speaking with a startling rudeness.
"I'm not taking your advice anymore, Yao-Lin."
He tilted his head. "What have I said to anger you?"
"Not long after we left the palace, I asked you if children ever stop running from their parents. And you said, 'When they have children, too.'" Mama paused and shook her head, still avoiding looking at him as she gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "Well, look at us. Look how wrong you are."
"This is a different situation. And it's a trying one."
"Yes. It is different. Please stop pretending like you know the way."
Yeh-Yeh was quiet for a moment, then he respectfully bowed his head. "Very well, Shao-Fun," he said simply, and walked back the way he came.
By morning, she still hadn't moved; and when she was brought a freshly cooked fish, it went untouched. She stared past the gate, still squinting, not even aware that the darkness had lifted.
As the day progressed, Jet-Jet retrieved his board and began to ride; sailing off the jumps with obnoxious loudness to which she appeared oblivious. Until he lost his balance and knocked into her. She leaped to all fours and whirled to glare at him. Laying on his side at her paws, he sheepishly met her furious gaze.
"Uh, sorry."
Her silence frightened him as she went to the gate and slipped through the bars. At least if she had yelled, they would still be on speaking terms. Feeling like he had just soiled the dress of a princess, Jet-Jet slowly retrieved his board. But he couldn't get back on. So he just sat there, wiping the fish off his wheels and timidly looking at the other cats. He had this suspicion that if he had knocked into the father, they could have laughed it off... But he didn't exactly have enough curiosity to recreate the moment.
"Nice shot, squarehead."
Jet-Jet looked up at Wing-Wing, chagrined to see Sagwa beside him. She looked much less amused, but nonetheless had the decency to ask, "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Just...uh, embarrassed." Would his friends judge him if he told her he appreciated her concern? Maybe if they did, they weren't true friends. But did he even need friends? And how much did it mean to him, really?
He didn't know. So instead he told her, "You better go ask her that."
"Actually, it should be you," she told him, but went to the gate anyway.
"Ah, don't worry about the old lady," Wing-Wing scoffed. "You didn't kill her; she's fine."
"I almost ran her over."
Wing-Wing sobered, reading the resentment on his friend's face. He wasn't supposed to have a conscience!
He lowered his voice. "Jay, there was a time we never would've mixed with prissy palace cats. You changed, but I haven't. I think you need to figure out where you stand... And I'm not talking about geography."
"They haven't been palace cats for a long time. I think it's safe to say we all stand together."
"Not me, not with them, not with―"
"Hun-Hun?" Jet-Jet interrupted, and raised his eyebrows. "Or did you forget about her?"
"Never!"
"She's one of them. She still one of us?" Jet-Jet pressed, and stepped over his board. Paying no mind to the fish that collected under his claws. "They're not privileged, Wing-Wing; and neither are you."
He brushed past his embarrassed comrade and ran to the gate, jumping through. Sagwa and her mother stood close by, and he approached without even considering that it might have been a private conversation. Mama's wavering attention made Sagwa turn around, and the ladies watched him come near. They wouldn't talk, so he did. "Shao-Fun? I'm really sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you."
"You didn't."
"Good. And I won't do that when you're around."
She gave him the shadow of a smile, then looked back at her daughter. "I'm going for a quick walk. Maybe I'll meet them."
"I doubt it."
Mama's eyes narrowed again, but she said nothing further as she trotted into the village. Alone with Jet-Jet, Sagwa returned her attention to him. "Thanks for your concern."
"Thanks for yours."
Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She still looked immeasurably sad as she retraced her steps; and Jet-Jet couldn't stop thinking about what her mother had said last night. And what Wing-Wing had said to him just now. It wasn't exactly a unique perspective. Jet-Jet may not have known in that instant where he stood...but he was starting to think he knew where he wanted to be.
