Chapter Seven

Please don't think me foolish. I knew it was physically impossible to spend the rest of my life in silence, no matter how hard I tried. Still, I decided that I would stay silent for as long as I could, just to see if anyone would notice, or even care.

I think that Teathrice noticed, but she was too polite to confront me about it. I had become very withdrawn over the past few weeks before my decision; I had spoken less and less to the grey queen. So when I fell silent completely, she assumed that I was merely going deeper into my depression. Teathrice was a good friend—my only friend—but she was too scared to ask what was wrong. Uncertain of how to deal with the problem, she soon began to avoid me entirely. Well, she didn't avoid me so much as she stopped spending time at the junkyard. Eventually the only time she appeared in the Jellicle haven was when the Elders were called together.

My mother didn't notice, of course, because she had stopped speaking to me long ago. If my father noticed, he didn't say so. He and I had not spoken much since I had moved in with my new humans. Of course the others didn't notice at all—they never spoke to me anyways.

To my everlasting surprise, it was several months before Cori even realized that I had stopped speaking. This was mainly due to the fact that my brother, despite his promise, now spent every night out on the town with the toms. When he returned home, he would chatter aimlessly, never even bothering to ask how I was or what was going on in my life. So he never noticed that I simply nodded my head or looked away in boredom. Still, it hurt to know that after four months of silence, my brother still had not noticed.

~*~

Despite the fact that I was now virtually alone—no Teathrice, a non-existent Coricopat—I still went to the junkyard. I found myself watching the others even more intently, obsessing over their lives—lives which made my own seem like a shadow in a room of lights.

Shy, beautiful Demeter. In all honesty, she was exquisite—the most beautiful queen in the yard. I think Bombalurina knew this, and that is why she was so close to Demeter, keeping her under the impression that no one could be as attractive as the red queen. Bombalurina had beauty, too, but she possessed the kind that would fade over time, withering slowly like a rose in autumn. Not Demeter. No, Demeter would stay beautiful forever.

Cassandra, whose true nature still eluded me, and her faithful follower, Alonzo. True, Alonzo still went out every night with his brother, The Rum Tum Tugger, and Corico. But I read his mind once, out of idle curiosity, and I learned that he stayed out all night because he feared to sleep—to sleep and dream of Cassandra, who haunted him with her coldness and inability to return his love. Alonzo lost himself in the comfort of strangers, desperately trying to find someone to replace the smoky queen, but sadly, he found none.

Munkustrap. Ah, brave Munkustrap. He was one of those odd cats who was born with an overwhelming sense of duty. He was not self-righteous, but he was noble, always choosing the way of truth and courage. How could he be so selfless? Oftentimes I watched him place his own feelings aside for the greater good. I saw him shun companionship in order to watch over us; I watched him shake off his own desires to help others. He truly was a good cat; I knew that whenever Old Deuteronomy finally went to Heaviside Layer, we would all be in good hands. Munkustrap would keep us safe from all harm, even if it meant that harm should come to him.

Jellyorum, the unofficial mother of the tribe. She cared for the kits like they were her own, dutifully watching over them without complaint. She had produced three kittens—Asparagus and Demter, and later Etcetera—and yet she still found it in her heart to help Jennyanydots raise the orphaned strays that now belonged to the Jellicle Tribe.

And then there was my mother. Jennyanydots. The smartest cat in all of London. I never could figure out how I felt about her—at times I hated her, hated her for giving birth to me, for making me ashamed of my gift, for failing to stand up for me when everyone else spoke such hateful words against me. Then at times, I pitied her. For all her knowledge, she still had not learned how to accept her own kittens. She and Skimbleshanks never had any more kittens after Cori and I were born; I think she feared producing more misfits. I think there were times when she regretted turning her back on us; perhaps that is why she cared so dearly for the orphans. Perhaps that was her atonement. At other times, I loved her. I respected her—she was an Elder, a reader of human, a wise and kindly cat at times. When she was younger, I'm sure she was even considered beautiful—for she still had timeless features, a strong nose and enchanting eyes, that did not change no matter how much time passed.

I never understood how she inspired so many conflicting emotions within me. Try as I might, I never could completely make her the villain in my life's story; yet I could not make her the savior, either. But what bothered me more than anything was the simple fact that, despite my ability to read minds, I never really knew how she felt about me.

~*~

Bombalurina was flirting with Coricopat again. Oh, how she touched him—it made my blood boil! Didn't he know those delicate fingers had caressed a thousand others just like that? How could he feel warmth in her touch, knowing her heart was as cold as ice?

Her hungry mouth gleamed with anticipation as she leaned over to whisper in his ear. My brother responded with a warm smile and a nod of agreement. He whispered something to her; she threw her head back and laughed gaily, her lilting voice traveling all the way to my perch in the tree.

I sat up, disgusted with the scene unfolding before me. Surely my brother couldn't be that stupid. No, wait…he could. He was. For there he sat at the red queen's feet as she lightly teased him, occasionally turning to Alonzo or Asparagus or some other tom to offer a friendly smile and an alluring arch of her brow. She was holding court, with all the toms sitting around her like mindless pigeons.

In that moment I felt truly envious. It wasn't enough that Bombalurina could have any tom she wanted—she had to have them all! I thought about how painfully different our lives were: she had many lovers, whilst I had none. Then, I realized something: in the end, we would end up the same, abandoned and alone. I didn't know the red queen that well, but I knew that Bombalurina was too self-destructive to allow herself true happiness. She would never take a mate, never have kits. She would be very much like me someday. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday.

The only difference was this: before becoming a lonely old spinster, Bombalurina would fill her life to the brim with fun and laughter, squeezing every precious minute, hugging each moment tightly to her chest and enjoying her life to the fullest. Sadly, I could not say the same about myself.

I began to wonder what I was doing here. Not in the junkyard or even in London, but here, on earth. What was I doing with the time I had been given, the life so preciously bestowed upon me by the Everlasting Cat? I didn't have an answer. Perhaps I should change that.

~*~

The Jellicle Ball came and went again. Again, I did not attend, although I'm sure my brother did. By that time, I was only vaguely aware of his comings and goings. It didn't matter anymore—I had accepted the fact that my brother was truly lost to me. I think I would have coped better if he had been dead. If Coricopat had died, I would have mourned his loss, but eventually I would have recovered.

But this was more than I could bear. He was alive, but he lived without me. The telepathic bond that had once united us—that invisible cord that I thought would link us forever, even past death—was now severed by Corico's strange ways and my own vow of silence.

That night I felt his loss more than usual. I curled up in my basket, allowing the cold moonlight to envelope me with its softness. The moon never changed. Sure, she waxed and waned and hid her face, but she always returned. It was a comforting thought.

I fell into uneasy sleep, my mind filled with dark dreams and cries for help. I don't know how, but Coricopat must have sensed my distress, because I awoke to the sound of his inner voice echoing loudly in my head.

Tantomile! Tantomile, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Are you in trouble?

I sat up slowly, looking around in confusion. My brother was not inside the house. Still, my twin's location was the least of my worries. Oh, the darkness I had witnessed! Could it be real? I prayed it was only a dream.

Demeter, my inner voice croaked, rusty from almost of year of disuse.

What? Cori's voice came again.

In my panic, I could not express any other thought, Demeter, Demeter, Demeter…

Tantomile, talk to me!

I found that I could no longer respond. I guess I didn't possess the strength to continue communicating with my brother. Once again, I slipped into darkness, walking along the twilight between sleeping and waking.

I awoke to see Coricopat's worried face looming above me, shaking me from my uneasy slumber, "Mil, wake up! Wake up! What happened?"

I shot him a telepathic message, I just had this dream—or maybe it was a vision, I don't know—about Demeter. Oh, Cori, it was awful.

What's wrong with your inner voice? Coricopat noticed the rasp in my tone. I shot daggers at him with my eyes, We haven't spoken telepathically in almost a year. But you've been a bit too busy to notice, haven't you? Too busy with your friends and your fleeting fancies.

Corico hung his head in shame. You're right. I have been too busy to notice. I'm sorry.

I did not respond. Cori's voice pleaded in my head, Please don't stay angry, Mil. I'll change; I promise I will.

Your promise means nothing to me, I replied icily, turning away. You promised to change months ago, but you never did.

There was a moment of silence as my twin realized that I spoke the truth.

How can I make this up to you? He asked.

Don't make anymore promises, I responded, turning back to face him. Just admit that you've changed; that's all I want. Admit that you're not the same, so that we can go our separate ways.

My brother looked up at me in alarm, Separate ways?

That's what I said.

But, why?

Because it needs to be done. If we have nothing in common then we should part ways. There is no reason for you to stay here; no reason for me to live with a complete stranger. It is time for us to grow up, Coricopat.

Growing up doesn't mean we have to grow apart.

But we have.

There's still time to change that.

No, I shook my head sadly. The time for change has passed.

Don't do this, Tantomile.

It has to be done. I give my brother a soft smile as I turn to go. Goodbye, Coricopat.