~Chapter Four~
Hot Chocolate Could Make Anything Better
The Junkyard had been locked up tight. It was wavering below -3 degrees outside, but Jellylorum was at home by her fire. She stared blankly into the hearth and watched in crackle. She had been confused ever since that morning when Asparagus had asked her about her winter relocation. It didn't seem all that uncommon – lots of cats asked each other that. But it was simply the way he had said it, and how scared he looked. Plus, he had had plenty of time to notice her collar and realize what she would say if he asked her. It didn't make sense, and it irritated her that she couldn't figure out his angle. She had always been the cat that was clever and could see through all problems, and now she was stumped and it mocked her.
"A little down in the dumps are we, sweetie?"
Jellylorum was broken from her thick thoughts by the sweet, rattled voice of her human. She gazed up sympathetically at her. She was a darling old lady with bones like twigs who knitted like it was a drug. The queen herself had actually learned the craft from her. But she had clearly lost her marbles a long time ago, for she still spoke of her veteran husband as if he was alive, and sometimes rambled on about the strangest things for hours. But she had a comforting grandma voice to listen to, so Jellylorum didn't mind.
"You remind me of Alfred when he got called to fight. Oh, boy, did that shake him up! I still don't think he's gotten over it, and the war's far over by now!" The lady took a shaky slurp of her cocoa, and the queen's mouth twitched into a small grin. "Ahh...that's the stuff! I feel all toasty inside and out! I tell you, sweetie, hot chocolate could make anything better. I'll bet one sip of this stuff would get you out of those dumps you've been in! Then again, I don't exactly think kitty cats can drink hot chocolate, if memory serves." She scratched the side of her head for effect, freeing a few snow white tendrils from her tight bun. "It's something that I don't think's good for your health! Which is something I don't understand." The old lady took another slurp, and then pursed her lips contemplatively. "Then again, Alfred drank gobs of this stuff when he got back home from the war, and that didn't cure him. He was still stricken with war things and such. He said, 'some things you just can't unsee.' I never actually knew what the heck he was referring to, 'cause he never talked about the war much. Heh, but I'll bet my bottom dollar he'll tell you about it."
She pushed herself up from her sad old chair, causing Jellylorum to pray to the Everlasting Cat that she wouldn't break anything, and called in her shrill shriek, "AL-FREEEED! WHERE ARE YA?" She waited two minutes for his never-coming reply, and then flopped her hand in the air. "Ah, forget it. It's late, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, sweetie." She trudged gingerly into her nearby bedroom, and Jellylorum breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the flooph of her human landing on her sagging mattress.
She would have gone back to staring at the fire, but she heard a new sound. The sound of something pitifully scratching against the cat door flap, and the most desperate mewl she had ever heard. It was a mewl of loneliness; not being where one belonged. She padded over to the door warily, and turned up just a corner of the heavy plastic flap.
"Oh, (cough, cough) thank Everlast-t-t-ting. I th-th-thought you would b-b-b-be in bed by n-n-now...A-CHOO!"