Part Two: The Exile

Chapter Seven

*Author's Note: I have had 12 years of dance experience, so the dance terms that I use in this segment are not confusing to me. However, I do realize that not everyone is a ballerina; these terms may seem odd. To see a clear definition of each term (as well as a video demonstration of each step) you can go to the American Ballet Theatre's Ballet Dictionary. Hope this is helpful and happy reading...*

I straightened my shoulders and strode confidently toward the golden circle of moonlight. I extended one long leg and slid into the spotlight with one deft movement, gliding into my starting pose as smoothly as silken water.

I stayed frozen in the pose, waiting for the first few beats of the music to establish itself. My name rippled through the crowd, overlapping itself in waves of fevered whispers, "Bomba, Bomba, Bombalurina."

I smiled to myself. I had achieved the desired effect in less than thirty seconds. A new record, even for me.

The music stopped. The musicians—older cats who could no longer jump about in the summer moonlight—stared at me in shocked silence. I was slightly irritated at this interruption. Oh, well, I didn't need music to dance.

I started out slowly, pulling my leg up into an extension. I followed up by two petite cabrioles, landing lightly on the balls of my feet. I slid into an arabesque and moved across the floor in a balancé.

Suddenly, the mellow notes of a saxophone pierced the silence. My head snapped around to see Rum Tum Tugger, atop the car hood, fingering away on the instrument. He gave me a wink, his eyes twinkling mischievously. I returned the grin, moving with the sweet sound of the sax.

Finally, my dance came to an end. As softly as the beat of a moth's wings, I folded my arms before me, finishing in a croiséderrière pose.

I looked around in supreme satisfaction at the faces of the Jellicle Clan. Despite their shock at my appearance, they were mesmerized at my dancing abilities. Jellyorum's face again held that unreadable expression—I couldn't tell if she was angry or shocked or disappointed or thrilled. I could see Teathrice, who, despite her obvious distaste for my lack of respect for Jellicle Law, was smiling at my performance. Alonzo's eyes almost started from his head.

"Bombalurina," Demeter pushed her way through the crowd. Her bright green eyes met mine; her face was flushed with hopeful expectation. She thought I had come back for good. Poor foolish thing.

"You're back," she stated breathlessly.

"Not for long," from the corner of my eye I could see Munkustrap's fearsome form heading towards me.

"What?" She cocked her head to the side, confused.

"She is not supposed to be here," Munkustrap growled, making his way through the crowd. "She is still in exile. For another year."

Demeter turned back to me, her eyes full of hurt and confusion, "A whole year? Why did you come tonight, Bombie?"

"I couldn't let you cats have all the fun," I flashed a flirtatious smile to a few dumbfounded onlookers. "Besides, if I'm going to be away for a year, I might as well go out with a bang."

I looked dead at Alonzo before adding, "I would hate for you to forget me."

My last remark struck Alonzo to the core; his head drooped in shame. Demeter took a step back, still shocked at my audacity, "But you're breaking the Law."

"So I am, little Dem," I replied coolly. I turned to see Munku as he approached, "But never fear. Your brave protector will see to it that my riff-raff self is quickly removed from the premises."

Munkustrap grabbed my upper arm roughly, pulling me towards the gate.

"Easy there, Tiger," I giggled, drunken by the success of my brazen defiance. "I assure you, with a face like that, you don't have to force me to follow you anywhere."

Munkustrap apparently did not find the humor in my comment. His face was set in stone. I quickly lost my grin. I felt a hot rush of anger--I had worked too hard to be dragged out like some deranged feline. No. Bombalurina would leave with her head held high, as a victor, not as a prisoner.

I planted my feet and jerked myself from Munkustrap's iron grasp. He whirled around quickly, taking a step to stop me from running, but I wasn't going anywhere. The result was Munkustrap bowing up in my face, his nose just whispers away from mine.

Ooh, I loved the ones with a temper.

A full beat passed. Neither one of us moved. Finally, Munku slowly moved to grab my arm again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, my voice as low and menacing as the rumble of distant thunder. Munkustrap stiffened at the threat, but he kept his temper in check, "You are still in exile. You can't be here. You know that."

"Yes, I do." I responded. "But that doesn't give you the right to treat me like some common alleycat."

He looked down—whether out of shame or despair, I do not know—and shook his head. He looked up at me again, his hard eyes telling me that this really was not a request, "Will you please follow me?"

I gave a curt nod of approval and followed him towards the junkyard walls. He was taking me to the back exit—the area of the junkyard that Demeter and I had been forbidden to play in when we were kits. Naturally, my curiosity caused me to look about in wide-eyed amazement of the forbidden section of the junkyard. There was a shack and a few large crates—this was where all the Jellicle Laws were made; this was the way to the Heaviside Layer. I saw light pouring from the shack—I caught a glimpse of two cats, standing face to face, deep in conversation.

I stopped, staring in curiosity at the lighted doorway, which was only half open, giving a perfect view of the scene. Munkustrap, heeding my previous warning, did not touch me, but dutifully stopped and stood beside me, his arms folded patiently in front of him.

I recognized the first cat—it was none other than my jailer, Old Deuteronomy. But the second was a stranger—a fierce, proud ginger cat. For some odd reason, I was transfixed by this stranger. How proudly he stood before the old Jellicle! His eyes flashed with angry passion and defiance, his face told of countless battles. I felt drawn to him; he was truly captivating.

I took a step forward, to get a closer look. Surprisingly, Munku did not stop me. I think that secretly he was just as curious as I was. Stealthily, I moved forward, being careful not to be seen or heard. I stopped to listen to the voices coming from the shack.

"You've gone too far this time," Deuteronomy's voice was filled with disappointment, but it still held tenderness. "I cannot overlook such an atrocious act."

The stranger's voice came back—gravelly at first, but it lent itself to such a cadence that it seemed as smooth as silk, "What are you implying, Deuteronomy?"

"You know exactly what I am implying."

"I'm a simple cat," came the reply. "Talk to me in simple terms."

"Your heinous crimes have reached the limit of tolerance. You are no longer merely an outcast; you have become an enemy to the entire Jellicle Clan. As such, you are warned that if you ever enter Jellicle Territory ever again, it will be under pain of death."

"Well, you'd have to catch me first, brother," the stranger replied haughtily. With that, he strode ominously out of the shack and pushed right by us without so much as a single word.

Munkustrap did not stop the stranger, but he called after him, "Your days have been numbered, Conjuror!"

The ginger tom stopped and turned around slowly; there was an air of menace about him. He walked back to Munku, his shoulders pulled back in a very proud manner, "What was that, boy?"

Munkustrap did not back down. He thrust his chin forward defiantly, "You heard me. Now you have a price on your head. That gives me every excuse to kill you next time I see you."

"Why don't you try now?" The tom smiled darkly. He was ready to fight. I watched with rapt interest, sizing up the two toms. Both were evenly matched; this would prove to be an interesting fight.

Sadly, Munku's sense of decorum prevailed, "You know the Law of the Jellicle. I cannot attack an outcast until he has a chance to leave and then chooses to come back."

"Suit yourself," the ginger cat shrugged. He turned to leave, then turned back to Munku, his eyes twinkling wickedly, "But don't worry; you'll get your chance. I'll be around."

As he turned away, he gave me a quick look up and down and without any expression, he left. That casual glance—and the brief flash I saw when his eyes met mine—made my stomach flutter and my skin tingle.

Oh, this cat was bad, through and through.

And through and through, I wanted him badly.