Chapter 2: In the Soup, Again

"Run!" Etcetera cried. She raced through the tunnel and into the clearing. I was right behind her. I could feel the angry Pollicle on my tail. As I dove into the tunnel, he snapped at my feet. I pulled them in close and made my way into the clearing behind Etcetera. Jemima was already there.

I looked up and saw every cat in the junkyard was frozen and staring at us. Many had backs arched and wide eyes. A silver tabby made his way down a hill and stood in front of us. We said not a word as he skirted us three and signaled down a tuxedo tom. The tuxedo tome made his way into the tunnel, and a couple seconds later I could faintly hear the screeching of the Pollicle.

The tabby crossed his arms, "Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Oops?" I offered. I could hear Jemima and Etcetera snicker.

Munkustrap sighed, "How many times a week do you three queens get yourselves into these messes?"

"At least three," Etcetera giggled.

"Go to your parents," he ordered. Munk's brow furrowed, "Jemima, I expect more from you young lady." All three of us hung our heads and walked over to our parents. I glanced up ad Jenny was glaring down at me. I sighed.

"Electra, what were you thinking?" My mother asked sternly.

"I wondered what would happen if you stuck a Pollicle in the rump with a sewing pin," I replied honestly.

"You and your adventures," Jenny sighed and shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?" She put a hand over my shoulder and drew me away. I looked around and saw cats were beginning to calm down and mingle. Demeter's fur was still on end, though.

Jenny brought me roughly home, and Skimble was waiting. As soon as he saw our expressions, he sighed. "What did she do now?"

"Stabbed a Pollicle with a pin and led him on a merry chase," my mother replied.

"What should be her punishment?" he made his way down the junk pile, just like Munkustrap.

"We've done almost everything," Jenny admitted. She was silent for a moment, "Maybe you should take her to the train station."

"Eh," my father mused, "that sounds more like a reward to me."

"Those trains could kill her. It might teach her some respect."

Skimble shrugged, "Why not?"

The next morning, I was bouncing up and down with excitement as my father got ready to go. I can't help it, I love an adventure.

Some call me the dark and quiet type. My fur color is dark, a pretty cross-hatch of orange and black tabby. I quiet usually because I'm cooking up another scheme in my head. I'll say it again, I love adventure! That's why I get into so much trouble; it's the fact that I'm exploring. I don't always come up with the plots. Sometimes it's Etcetera, Jemima, Victoria, Mistoffolees, or Pouncival.

You see, we have our little trouble-making group here. Etcetera, Jemima and I are the prime members. The others come and go with ideas. It's so much fun.

I follow my father down to the train station, gawking at every little thing. The ticket booths are a little beaten up. The trains, on the other hand, were covered with bright, gleaming paint.

"Welcome to my work," Skimble said proudly. "The train in front of you goes to the middle of London. We'll take it and be back to the junkyard before dark."

We came closer to the back of the train, and a man stood there, a stern look on his face. When he looked down, though, it changed to delight. "Skimbleshanks," he boomed, "welcome old friend. Get into the luggage car and we'll be on our way soon." Skimble nodded to the man and jumped onto the platform. I followed suit.

A few minutes later I heard a harsh screech and the floor lurched underneath me. I yelped and gripped it with my claws. My father chuckled as he watched me from atop a bag. "Calm down," he smiled, "you're perfectly safe. Sit down and enjoy it." I smiled nervously and climbed onto a bag next to him. "Isn't this the kind of adventure you were hoping for?" I lay down on the bag and looked around the spacious car packed to the ceiling with luggage.

I fell asleep and woke up about four hours later to the screech of brakes. My father's head snapped up from rummaging in some baggage. "We're here," he said, helping me down in my sleepy stupor. We made our way out of the train and onto the platform. As soon as my feet hit the concrete, they were gone. I hit the ground heavily. "Come on," he pushed me up with his shoulder, "you can't be that tired."

I shrugged, "Long…nap."

Skimble sighed, "You are not an early riser." I shrugged again.

Then a thought came to my head, "What do the trains move on?"

Skimble led me to the edge of the platform, and we both looked down. There was a pair of metal ladders lying on the ground. The train's wheels were attached to it. "Wow," I breathed.

Suddenly, my still sleepy legs picked the most inopportune time to not support my weight. As my weight was forward, I fell that way. The metal ladders hit my back, giving a shock to my system, and I landed on the far set of tracks. I pushed my front legs underneath me and pushed my head up. A light hit the corner of my eyes and I turned towards it. There was a train bearing down on me.

My green eyes widened as it came closer. My legs felt even more like jelly, and my life flashed before my eyes. I knew I was going to die.

Then there was a tug on my scruff and I was pulled roughly from the tracks. Whoever had me stopped in front of the near train and waited, panting. As the train whooshed past, I felt the tug of the wind on my fur. I wondered if I would be drug along with it. When it had passed, my scruff was tugged on again and I helped my savior pull me onto the platform.

Skimbleshanks let go of her scruff and pulled himself a little farther away. He began licking his fur into place. As he did, he glared at me, "Is that the kind of adventure you were hoping for?"

I took my time in answering him. My legs would finally support me, and I pushed myself into a sitting position. I too licked my ruffled fur into place, and my eyes gained back their focus on the present. "Well?" my father prompted.

I smiled mischievously, "That was great! Can we do it again?" Skimble groaned and put his head onto his paws.

"Let's go home," he suggested. I grinned and began to tread in his paw steps towards the junkyard. Now I knew a good place to find adventure that was far enough from the junkyard that no one would ever know we were there.