Chapter Three

The next few months were very hard for me. My own mother became uneasy around me—ever since the night of my prophecy, Jennyanydots had spent less and less time in my presence. Corico and I were already over a year old, so I set out to find my own place in the world—away from my disapproving mother and my practically non-existent father. Skimbleshanks was a good father, don't get me wrong, but he was never there. He was the Railway Cat, spending only a few days with us before heading off to the northern part of the Northern Hemisphere. He was the one who shielded us from Mother's stern ways, the one who told us we were special in a good way, who encouraged us. He even told me I was pretty—I knew he was lying, but it still felt nice to hear him say it.

Still, my father understood when I announced that I had found some humans across town. He just gave a slight nod of his head, as he always did, and looked at me with a smile, "Well, Tanto, you're a groawn cat knaow. Ay respect yore decision."

I had left that very day, with my father's blessing. It wasn't very long before Coricopat joined me—he could not stand to be separated. I was stronger than him in those days—I was the one who stepped out first, the one who touched first, who spoke first. Corico just followed me with the steadfastness of a brother.

The cats at the yard still whispered when we came by—now I had learned to blot out their words, to ignore the slights. And yet, I could still feel the eyes—the eyes that followed me with suspicion, that looked on me with fear.

Soon it was time for the Jellicle Ball. Corico and I did not attend. I heard through the grapevine that Bombalurina had appeared—against Jellicle Law, since she was still an exile. I thought she was either very brave or very stupid. Corico commented that it was dangerous mixture of both. Little did I know, her appearance set into motion the latter half of my prophecy. What can I say? Hindsight is 20/20.

~*~

The next few months passed like a blur. Corico and I entered our second year somewhere along the way—I was never sure of my birthday, because Mother did not celebrate it. Apparently it was not good manners to celebrate the birth of freaks.

The whispers had died down; the looks had stopped. Corico and I disappeared back into our old ways. Soon, it was as if we did not exist.

"I don't even know why we come here," I said aloud one day. I did not feel like talking telepathically to my brother.

"What do you mean?" Corico looked at me curiously. "This is our home."

I gave a contemptuous snort, "Our home? No. Our home is with our humans. This is just a junkyard. Why do we come here? No one wants us here—look, they don't even notice us! Or if they do, it is only because they want to come and stare at the freaks—like humans and their zoos!"

"Hey," Coricopat sat up. "That's not—"

"When's the last time any of them has spoken to us?" I challenged. "When is the last time someone smiled at you? When, Corico, when?"

"I…don't know," he admitted, hanging his head in shame.

"Then why are we still here?" I asked. He looked at me with sorrowed eyes, seeming in that moment much younger than I was. "I just go where you go, Mil."

I felt my resolve crumble. Here I was, taking my anger out on the one cat who didn't look upon me with fear. I felt awful. "I'm sorry, Cori."

He gave a small nod, silently forgiving me. He always did, no matter how cruel I had been to him. I felt a sudden rush of emotion for my brother—my only friend, my only companion against the darkness.

I did a strange thing: I hugged him.

~*~

It may not seem strange to you, but it was for us. Corico and I did not touch—ever. We had spent our lives side by side, but we refrained from contact. We had a deeper connection; we were linked by telepathic chords. We never saw the need to express our affection in a physical way.

When I finished embracing him, Corico regarded me with uncertain eyes, "Are you OK?"

I gave a small laugh—another rare thing for me. "I'm…fine. I'm more than fine—I'm great. I just…thank you, Corico. Thanks for being my brother."

"I didn't really have a choice," he pointed out with a grin. We both laughed again. I shook my head, "I know. But you could have left me a long time ago—after the prophecy, when everyone regarded me like the plague. You didn't have to stand by me, to fight my battles. But you did, and I'm grateful for that."

"I'm your brother," he said simply. "It's my job."

~*~

It was during this time that I began to reflect on Teathrice's words. She had said something—something that I didn't catch at first, but later it hit me like a ton of bricks.

You have a gift, Tantomile. You may be ridiculed, or even hated for it, but that is the price we pay for possessing such a gift.

The price we pay. We. Teathrice had included herself in that number. Suddenly, I realized how she knew so much about prophecies, how she understood my pain. The night of my vision, she was the only one who seemed to know anything about the matter—how I felt, how I couldn't control it, how I could not interpret my own prophecy. It all made perfect sense—she knew because she, too, had the gift of foresight.

I set out to find the grey queen. She was my only kindred spirit; I must show her that I knew her secret, that I understood. That I could be there for her, like she was for me.

"Teathrice," I said breathlessly as I approached the grey queen. She turned to me with a mild look of surprise, "Tantomile. How nice to see you."

"You can see the Future, too." I was never good at small talk. She sat back, her gold eyes widened in shock. It was as if I had sucker punched her in the stomach. I instantly regretted my abrupt declaration.

Teathrice took a deep breath, her voice low and reserved, "Yes, Tantomile. Yes, I can."

"Why didn't you say so?" My curiosity was stronger than my regret. Teathrice looked away, staring out at the other Jellicles who milled around the yard. "Because I knew what would happen if I did—Tantomile, you can act like you didn't hear the whispers, the cruel words from the others, but I know you did. I'm not strong enough to bear that. Unlike you, I don't have a twin who understands and accepts me unconditionally. No one knows about my gift except for Old Deuteronomy."

"But…" I trailed off, my voice filled with the hurt that I had tried to hide. "You could have at least told me. You could have let me know that I wasn't alone."

"Oh, Tantomile," Teathrice took a step closer, as if she wanted to reach out to me, but feared my response. "I thought it was better this way—you were never alone. Besides, I wanted to you find your own strength—the cat inside of you who could rise above all this. I didn't want you to rely on me for support. I wanted you to find your own way."

"That is the worst excuse I have ever heard," I said flatly. I saw the hurt look in Teathrice's eyes and instantly regretted my words. Deep down, I knew she was right. But that did not stop me from feeling hurt and from lashing out. "You were just too afraid of what the others would say if they knew. You were too worried about what everyone else would think—you couldn't sacrifice your vanity."

Teathrice's gaze fell to the ground. She spoke, quietly, "That is not true, and you know it."

The grey queen rose to her feet with a heavy sigh, her eyes never meeting mine, "Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She brushed past me. She took a few steps, before turning to look at me with sorrowed eyes, "We can't all be as strong as you are, Tantomile. Some of us just aren't meant to possess such strength. But that doesn't mean our weakness should be viewed as a sin."

With that, the grey queen walked away. I felt a slight anger grow within me. Weakness was a sin—the worst possible sin, in my opinion. For some odd reason, I felt that Teathrice had betrayed me, because she was not strong enough to declare her power to the world.

Then I became angry at myself—why had I pushed away the only friend I had ever had, besides my brother? Why could I not simply nod my head, tell her I understood, and accept the friendship she had so kindly offered? Wasn't that what I wanted—to be accepted? Wasn't that the exact same reason I was angry at Teathrice—because she had wanted to be accepted?

I shook my head angrily, trying to dispel my muddled thoughts. I knew I would have to apologize, to beg her forgiveness, even if it wounded my pride. But I couldn't do it today. No, I needed time to let my anger disappear before I saw Teathrice again.

~*~

It was a week before I finally mustered enough courage to approach Teathrice again. She regarded me with uncertainty, "Tantomile. What brings you here?"

She was being very civil, but for a cat who generally possessed a warm nature like Teathrice, her greeting seemed as cold as a winter wind.

"I…I wanted to apologize," I took a breath to steady myself. My stomach was tying itself in knots. What if she did not accept my apology? I had been very cruel; I didn't deserve her forgiveness.

Teathrice's face softened into a smile, "Oh. Thank you, Tantomile. The thing is, I wanted to apologize, too—for not telling you sooner. I wanted to—really, I did—but I was still so afraid."

"But I would have understood," I reminded her gently. "Of all the cats in London, I would have understood better than anyone."

"I know," she said quietly. "But that did not stop the fear inside of me."

I nodded, trying to remember how I felt before everyone knew of my gift. I could be understanding; I could. I forced a smile—an odd thing for me, "It's Ok, Teathrice. But I do want you to know…I'm here. If ever you need anything—"

Tears welled up in her eyes. I suddenly felt that I had said something wrong, "What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," Teathrice gave a small laugh, wiping away her tears. "It's just…I've never had anyone say that to me before."

"Never?" I couldn't believe it. Teathrice was beautiful, well spoken—everyone adored her. She was my polar opposite. So how could we have shared the same history?

Teathrice shook her head, "Never. You see, I joined the Jellicles when I was very young—about your age. And I never…really connected with anyone. I mean, I know everyone; I get along well with the other queens, and the kits seem to like me. I'm one of the Elders, for crying out loud! But I just never felt like an insider. Like I had someone."

"Well, now you do," I smiled genuinely this time. Teathrice returned the smile, her face lighting up once more. And that was how I made my very first friend.