The grey and black-banded cat stood on his hind legs, forepaws on the top of the picket fence surrounding the vicarage garden. He watched sadly as Demeter and Bombalurina ran across the green field to the road that would take them to London and the excitement they sought.
Too enticing for their own good, he said to himself.
Even as a young kitten, Bombalurina had seemed to have a natural allure for every tom that she saw and that saw her. Her sleek red coat, with its elliptical spots, made her unique. Her mischievous smile that accompanied the incredible physique made her nearly irresistible.
And then, dear Demeter—She had a soft blend of gold and black patches, greenish-gold eyes and the sweeter characteristics of her mother, the infamous Grizabella.
Once known as the Glamour Cat, Grizabella had become a tawdry shadow of her former self. She'd left her kitten there, at the vicarage, to be cared for by young, dependable Munkustrap, the motherly Jenny Anydots, and of course, Old Deuteronomy.
Munkustrap's eyes followed Demeter, whom he loved, but what chance did a drab, country mouse chaser, like himself, have against the big city males that Bomba had convinced her friend they were destined to meet and enthrall?
So they ran, spurning the security and serenity of the vicarage and, by extension, the simple devotion of its caretaker.
Munkustrap shook his head in resignation and lowered his great height to the ground. "If it's excitement they want, they're sure to find it," he said wisely. Returning to his duties to the garden and its inhabitants, he repeated to himself, "They'll be back. She'll be back."
Demeter trailed the knowing Bomba, feeling a mix of elation at their escape and regret at leaving her adopted family. She didn't really remember her dame, only that her tongue had had a film and smell of yeast and she'd never had enough milk. Jenny, on the other hand, though dry for many years, had always wrapped warm, fluffy arms around the gold and black kitten, and shared the saucer of cream that she received every day from the vicar's wife.
Old Deuteronomy had taught her the name of every plant and creature in the garden, and given up his sunny spot on the wall at the front of the grounds, to make room for their little charge.
As for Munkustrap—he was such a dear, but really only seemed to enjoy himself when he presided over Deuteronomy's birthday celebration, when he would tell the story of his friend, Rumpuscat.
Demeter remembered when he'd come to visit. He was black and grey, like Munkustap, but his stripes rippled with muscle and he had that startling white chest. She'd trembled in wonder as the two toms recounted how Rumpuscat kept the small dogs of the city in line, while his reddish eyes glowed and his mane—wild and black, danced in the wind. Now she felt her breathing and heart beat increase, and she knew it wasn't because of the run.
"Hurry," called back Bomba, as they crossed the railroad tracks and neared the city. Demeter stretched her legs to match her longer friend's pace.
Bombalurina had moved in to the house next door to the vicarage a few months after Demeter's arrival. The head of her family was a famous mystery writer with a liberal bent. The things the sheltered, smaller kitten had learned from her!
They slowed to a prancing gait that they knew would generate interest. From his perch in the station manager's shack, Skimbleshanks, the railway cat, rolled his eyes at the affectation.
"Seen too much of that in my years," he said, finishing the cleaning of his orange fur, then dropping to the ground for his inspection of the engines in the train yard. "Must keep to schedule," he reminded himself, with a last appreciative glance at the pretty young cats.
"Almost there," Bomba panted excitedly. She repeated for Demeter her experience that was the impetus for their foray. "The stray who came through the other day...after we shared his catnip behind the barn, he told me about Macavity. He said we could find him under The Tomb, and he told me about another cat who could outfit us with spiked collars."
Demeter's hair stood on end at the idea of something so daring. She wondered if Rumpuscat would like it and felt her blush. "What are we going to do when we get there?"
Bomba grinned. "Whatever we want."
"Will there be other girls?" asked Rumpleteazer, the pitch of her voice rising with her nerves, as they approached the area off Fleet Street where The Tomb stood.
Mungojerrie smiled, falling into step with her. To the casual observer, with their similar markings, they might be one very wide feline. "There are always girls," he said, "though none like you."
She answered his smile with her own, trying to read his thoughts in his toffee brown eyes. She had a feeling he wasn't telling her everything. She was right.
a/n Can you identify Munkustrap, Demeter and Bombalurina in the Song of the Jellicle Cats?
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