Part Two: The Exile

Chapter Five

Just as I had predicted, my sentenced lasted longer than three months. Much longer. It lasted seven. I changed a lot in during that time. I would often jump onto my human's dresser and look at myself in the mirror. I had passed my first birthday, and the changes had become very evident. My coat had become much sleeker; it still retained its beautiful dark red hue. I looked more like a fully-grown cat now, for the rest of my body had finally caught up with my long legs. My whiskers were perfectly preened and my tail was always in order. I had become quite a beautiful cat.

During that time, I did not see a single Jellicle. Occasionally, I would prance out to the garden to find a gift of a mouse or some other junkyard trinket to let me know that Alonzo had stopped by during the night. For some reason, Jellyorum and Demeter never came. I suppose they had greater respect for the rules than Alonzo.

After a few weeks, however, Alonzo's little gifts began to dwindle, eventually disappearing altogether. It seemed that, in a few short months, my kittenhood friends had forgotten me. They had moved on with their lives, whilst I sat in my glass-plated prison, staring out at the world with unseeing eyes.

At first I was hurt by this abandonment. Sure, I was an exile, but a silly law shouldn't have kept them from seeing me. I knew that if Demeter had been the one thrown out, I would have visited her every day, regardless of Deuteronomy's decision. And I'm certain that Jellyorum would have found a way to see her precious daughter. But, sadly, I was not Jellyorum's daughter, nor was I Demeter's sister. I was merely some outsider, some wandering kitten they had allowed to enter their midst. They had forgotten me. So, as an act of retaliation, I quickly set out to forget them.

As luck would have it, there happened to be four other cats on my street—none of them were Jellicles. To make things even more exciting, three of them were toms. I decided that it was time for me to become the beautiful, alluring queen that I was destined to be. I often remembered Jennyanydots words. Hadn't the boys always stared whenever I walked by? Even at a young age, cats always told me how pretty I was. Wasn't it time that I used that very same beauty to get what I wanted out of life?

The funny thing was that I didn't really know what I wanted out of life. I thought about it for several days. Finally, I decided that I just wanted to feel alive, to feel loved and exalted. I wanted to be the one that everyone noticed, the one that everyone secretly wished to be. It was a tall order, but I would not rest until I had achieved my goal.

The first step was to learn how to garner attention. I soon learned that if I sat in the 2nd story window at just the right hour, the morning sun would catch my coat just right, setting it ablaze with color. The tom across the street would stare for hours, as if he were worshipping me. I adored every minute of it. But eventually it became quite tedious, being exulted from afar. I decided it was time to initiate contact with my ardent follower.

On this particular spring day, I spent longer than usual at the mirror. I only had one chance to dazzle this tom, and I wanted to look like the perfect goddess he worshipped from afar. No hair was out of place, no whisker was uncombed. I looked truly enchanting, if I do say so myself.

I pranced across the street, where the tom was sunning himself on the front stoop. His eyes were closed; he did not see me approach.

"Good morning," I purred sweetly, with just the right mix of innocence and allure. He sat up, his yellow eyes wide with shock. He didn't respond. I stepped onto the front walk, "My name is Bombalurina; I live next door…. I couldn't help but notice you, seeing as we live just right across the street from each other."

Still dumbfounded. This was going to be a lot harder if I had to do all talking. Quickly, I reeled in the coyness and added more shyness, "I'm sorry, normally I wouldn't just walk right up to you. But I'm so desperately lonely, and you are the only cat I've seen in weeks."

That was a lie. I knew of the other three.

"Oh, really?" He found his tongue. "Well, there's a coupla others around here; we get together some nights and go caterwauling."

"Sounds like fun," I made my eyes twinkle with an interest that I did not feel. But I wasn't doing this to make friends; I was using this as practice to exercise my powers over the opposite sex. Still, some interest had to be feigned for the sake of research.

"Oh, it really is great," he stood, offering a paw. "The name's George."

"What a lovely name," I purred. I decided George was cute. Simple, but cute. George looked around, "So, Bombalurina, wasn't it?"

I nodded. He continued, "What do you do for fun? Surely a glamorous cat like you would know some great hangouts around here."

"Not really," I replied, looking away sadly. "I don't know anyone from around here. I miss my old friends terribly."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, and I think he meant it. "Well perhaps you would like to join us one night? I know a pretty cat like you probably wouldn't want to be seen with an oaf like me…"

"I would love to," I truly smiled for the first time. George was finally taking the bait.

The next step was not as hard as it seemed. After a few afternoons of polite chatting with George, I was finally invited to a night of caterwauling with the other cats. The others consisted of a black queen named Nefertiti, a grey and white patched tom named Marco, and a brown purebred Finchfield named Fergus. Apparently, it was a big deal (at least to him) that Fergus was a purebred. And a Finchfield. Although he tolerated our company, he looked down on the rest of the mixed breed Marbry Street cats with obvious disdain.

This however, did not stop Fergus from being particularly enamored with me. He would put aside his petty pure-breed mindset whenever I hit the scene; I laughed at the thought that I could make a tomcat forswear his own ideals. Despite his obvious desire and devotion, I could not stand him and avoided the oddly featured cat.

Marco, however, was a different story. He had that bright, quick look about him—the look that said he was a mischievous thing, and a rascal to boot. His intelligence and tom-foolery made up for George's less-than-stellar mental abilities. On the other hand, George won out in the looks department. He definitely was an adorable tom.

There was one more cat who entered the neighborhood during the first few months of my exile. His name was Rufus—a deplorable name, but apparently Jellicles are the only ones who name themselves. Rufus, like George, was not very bright, but he was very well built and incited within me a certain desire that I had never felt. So I decided that between the three toms—George, Marco, and Rufus—I could create the perfect relationship. And for a while, I did.

I discovered the joys of sex with Rufus, who had a certain aptitude for such activity. We had a very nice little arrangement, one that did not require me to be entirely faithful. But as I have said, Rufus never was a bright one and I have never been accused of being discreet. Needless to say, my human caught us in the act one day and quickly ended our little meeting of the minds and bodies. She doused us with water and chased poor Rufus away. Rufus was terrified of water—even more so than most cats. He never came back, and my human stayed furious for days. Fuddy-dud.

Still, I had George and Marco, whom I never slept with, opting instead to taunt them daily with the possibility that such a dream could come true. Sadly, it never did, but that never kept Marco and George from following me around like devoted puppies. Nefertiti didn't care for my company; she avoided me at all costs. Looking back, I'm sure she hated me for stealing her friends and turning them into mindless, blithering idiots. What can I say? I had a gift.

Between preening and juggling my many toms, my days were quite full. But at night, when the moon was full and bright, my mind would take on a dreamier state. The darkness was comforting; it seemed like the only safe place for me to actually hope. Hope was such a fragile thing; I do not think it could have withstood the harsh reality of daylight. So in the darkest hours of the night, I would dream of my return to the Jellicles, despite my attempt to forget them. I knew my exile would end eventually, and I would be able to return. Until then, I kept myself busy.

On the nights when the moon was full and bright, I would skitter about the downstairs hall, leaping about and landing gracefully on my feet. I was preparing for the Jellicle Ball. I don't know why—I wasn't even sure my sentence would be finished by then. But I remembered the stories Jellyorum would tell Dem and me about the ball held once a year for all the Jellicles. Over the last few months, I had lost track of time, but I knew it was fast approaching. Something inside of me just sensed it.

~*~

One day, as I laid out on the back porch stoop, I heard a familiar voice. It was Jellyorum calling, "Bombalurina! Bombalurina!"

I looked up to see Jellyorum perched precariously on the garden fence. She gave a hesitant smile, as if she thought I might not recognize her. At the sight of my mentor, I forgot my past anger at her absences. I knew what her presence must have meant--my time of exile had ended. I bounded up to greet her, just as I had the very first day we met, "Jellyorum! Is it over? Can I return to the Jellicles?"

"Not quite," Jellyorum said, her voice full of motherly tenderness. She took a deep breath, her voice now taking on a graver tone, "Tyrophilia's wounds got infected. We had to take her to the humans for help."

"Oh," I said, shocked but not really remorseful. Jellyorum shook her head sadly, "And so Deuteronomy has extended your sentence to a full year."

"A full year?" I blanched. Then, I brightened at the thought, "Well, I've already served seven months, so I'm halfway through, right?"

Jellyorum's green eyes cringed with pain. She said, as gently as she could, "No, darling. Not a year from your trial. A year from today."

"What?" I felt the earth give way beneath me. It was as if the planet had split in two. "Why? Why are they punishing me so? I've already been away for seven months!"

"Tyrophilia died today," Jellyorum admitted quietly. Suddenly I felt bad. I had hated Tyro, that much was true; but I had never wished her dead. Exiled forever, but not dead.

Suddenly, an idea hit me, "Jellyorum, when is the Jellicle Ball?"

"Why, next month, on the full moon," Jellyorum seemed confused by my question. Seeing that she needed an answer, I replied, "I was just wondering. I had a feeling that it was coming soon."

Jellyorum looked at me strangely, the look on her face completely unreadable. Perhaps she couldn't understand why I wanted to know when the Ball was, since I would not be allowed to attend. But she always was a practical cat, one who always followed the rules. I, however, saw the opportunity for a dramatic appearance. And I was surely about to take it.