Part Three: The Prodigal

Chapter Eighteen

Demeter's humans took me in; they renamed me Ginger—such a cliché, but still better than the odious name of Muffin. I quickly readjusted to life in a house. Demeter's humans had been sensible enough to create a door for us, erasing the need for us to open those pesky windows. We came and went as we pleased.

Demeter and I had both changed over the past two years—we had grown up, but surprisingly, we had not seemed to grow apart. We seemed to pick up exactly where we left off— remembering our likes and dislikes, our odd little habits. Dem would even pounce at me occasionally, as if we were still kits. And, just like old times, I always successfully pinned her. It's nice to know some things don't change.

By now, almost half a year had passed since I had left Macavity and my life on Marbry Street. It was good to have another cat around; the quiet calmness of Demeter's personality kept my demons at bay, providing me with a chance to relax and somehow regain a small part of who I once was.

Demeter tried to convince me to return to the junkyard—but I steadfastly refused. Whenever she would go to visit the other Jellicles, I would quickly find something else do to. I had asked Demeter not to tell the others that I had returned; she did as I asked, although I'm sure she didn't understand my odd request. Demeter always was like that—a blind follower, simply doing, never asking why. I think part of her complicity was due to the fact that, although she did not know much about my mysterious two year disappearance, she sensed the pain behind my mask of silence. Of course, despite my best attempts to avoid the subject or bury the past completely, it always had an awful way of coming back up.

During the first few months after the kits' disappearance, I was often visited by night terrors—horrible flashbacks of the night my kits were taken. I would relive the horror and hysteria all over again, only to wake up covered in tears and sweat. Eventually, I began to have the nightmares less and less, but they would still appear from time to time.

One night, not long after I came to live with Dem, I had one of my nightmares. I must have cried out in my sleep, for my dark dreams were interrupted by Dem's soothing voice, "It's OK, Bombie, it's OK…shhh…it's just a dream."

I tried to stop the tears, but a few sniffles still escaped. Dem stroked my face comfortingly, "There, there, Bombie. See? It was just a bad dream."

"No, it wasn't just a dream," I said sadly, curling up into an even tighter ball. "It was a memory."

I saw compassion and sorrow flood Dem's pretty face. Wordlessly, she crawled into the basket with me and held me close, letting me cry until my tears ran dry. She never asked what the memory was; she never even mentioned the incident again. I will always be grateful to her for that.

~*~

One day, Demeter bounded up to me, shaking me from my nap, "Bombie, Bombie, come on! There's someone outside I want you to meet."

I groaned and stretched out my long legs, "Can't this wait?"

"Nope," she giggled. Highly unlike Demeter. One of the many changes I had noticed since our reunion was that Demeter had lost her happy-go-lucky attitude that had dominated her kittenhood. Now she was quieter, much more reserved. Shy, almost.

But not today.

"Get uuuuup," she groaned, attempting to pull me to my feet. I smiled amusedly at this; there was no way a cat half my size could make me budge.

"Doesn't look like it's working," I commented drolly. She made a face and jumped up beside me on the couch. She quickly pushed me off the couch entirely; I landed in a heap on the floor, "Hey!"

"Hmm. And they always say cats land on their feet," Demeter looked down at me with false gravity. "I suppose you proved 'em wrong."

I swatted at her and missed. She jumped down and headed outside, "Now c'mon!"

I followed her, mumbling obscenities at her under my breath. Much to my surprise, the cat waiting on the doorstep was none other than Jellyorum.

Her face lit up when she saw me, "Bombalurina, you've come back!"

"I told you it was a big surprise," Demeter replied smartly to her mother. Jellyorum ignored her daughter's remark, "We thought you were dead."

I smiled and embraced her, "Jellyorum. I should've known that Dem would bring you to see me."

"How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks," Dem answered. Jellyorum looked at me quizzically, "Why on earth haven't you come by the junkyard? Everyone would be thrilled to know that you're still alive."

I cleared my throat, my mouth unable to provide a suitable answer—or at least one that didn't involve the painful truth.

"Mother," Dem said quietly. "Bombie's not quite ready to deal with everyone right now."

Jellyorum's light green eyes focused on me intently, she gave a small nod of understanding, "Well, whenever you're ready, darling, just know that the Jellicles will be here to welcome you with open arms."

I smiled at her, not really feeling confident about Jellyorum's claim, "Thank you."

Jellyorum smoothed the fur on her multi-colored chest and quickly changed the subject, "So, have you seen anyone else yet?"

"I thought it'd be best if you saw her first," Dem interjected. Jellyorum nodded, "It's only fitting, I think."

The older queen chuckled, "Just think, first I bring Dem to meet you, and now, all these years later, it is Dem bringing me to see you. Isn't life full of little oddities?"

~*~

Eventually, Demeter's insistence won out. I agreed to return to the Jellicle Tribe. It felt so strange, walking back into my kittenhood haunt. All the time I had spent there seemed like a lifetime away.

There were a few cats that I recognized instantly—like Jennyanydots, who bounded up to greet me with the enthusiasm of some half-crazed old aunt. That's what she was, I suppose. I saw Coricopat and Tantomile, both of whom sat oddly aloof from the rest of the cats. The lovely Teathrice was still there, seemingly untouched by time. Beside her sat an exotically beautiful Abyssinian.

Demeter introduced us, "Bombalurina, this is Cassandra, Teathrice's housemate. Cassandra, meet Bombalurina, my best friend."

Cassandra nodded to me coolly, "I've heard tales of your escapades. My only regret is that I wasn't there to witness them."

I grinned at the compliment. Cassandra was the type of queen that I could definitely get along with. Teathrice smiled at me, "Oh, Bombalurina, we thought you'd never come back. We thought you were dead."

This was the fifth time I had been told that everyone thought I was dead. I was beginning to feel as if I had somehow disappointed them by being alive.

"Yes, well, I'm very much alive," I replied, smiling sweetly at her. I turned to see Notekins O'Malley watching me with that same look of detached interest. He was perched atop the car, coolly watching the proceedings. I gave him a wink. He sat up, startled by my actions. I laughed silently to myself.

Yep. Still got it.

~*~

I had reacquainted myself with almost every member of the Jellicles, with the exception of Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap, who happened to be out on some mission, and Old Deuteronomy, who was napping at the vicarage, according to all reports. And one more.

"Where's Alonzo?" I asked, looking around and trying to hide my curiousness. Demeter looked at me over her shoulder, "Lonz? Oh, he's around here…somewhere."

Dem caught Plato as he was walking by, "Hey, Plato, where's your brother?"

"Which one?"

"The Alonzo one."

"Oh," he took a minute to think. That's when he noticed me, "Bombalurina, you're sure grown up."

"So have you," I replied smoothly, my mouth curving into an inviting smile. I don't know what came over me; I hadn't acted so devilishly since before I became Macavity's mate. Something about being back in this place—the place of my victory over Jellicle Law—revived in me the spark of naughtiness that had marked the happier part of my life. Perhaps it was because these cats did not know the dark side of my past; I could pretend that such things did not happen. Perhaps it was because there were so many toms wandering around, in desperate need of a goddess to worship. Perhaps my few months of peace and quiet at Demeter's house that had begun to restore my soul, revealing the old Bombie once again.

I'm going to say it was the toms.

~*~

"Alonzo!" I cried out joyously as soon as I saw the black and white figure. His back was turned to me; he stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to face me. His mouth made a perfect O. He gave a small laugh of surprise, "Bomba? Is that you?"

"In the flesh," I giggled like a schoolgirl. Many happy memories of Alonzo flooded my brain, making me giddy. He ran up to me, but he didn't hug me. He seemed unsure, "You're not dead?"

"Does it look like it, genius?" Dem asked sarcastically. Alonzo shrugged, "Well, it's just that when you didn't come back, everyone—"

"I know," I interrupted. He smiled sheepishly. Then his face filled with concern, "Why didn't you come back when your sentence was up?"

I turned away slightly, not wanting to face the question. Suddenly, Alonzo became very worried, "Oh, gosh, I hope I didn't upset you. Did I? Were you mad at us for not visiting anymore? It that why you didn't come back? Cuz you said something about it at the Ball, and I knew—"

I shook my head, smiling at Alonzo's naivety. "No, Alonzo, it wasn't that. The night of the Ball, your brother told me why you stopped coming. I-I understood then. That's not why I didn't come back."

"Oh," he said, knowing not to ask any more questions. I could tell he felt bad about my reaction to his previous question; he hated to upset me further.

Demeter was confused, "What? Did I miss something? Who visited who? When was this?"

Alonzo smiled, grateful for the change in subject, "For the first few weeks of Bomba's exile, Munku and I would sneak off and bring her things—you know, just stuff—to let her know that we hadn't forgotten about her."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dem demanded. "Why didn't you invite me along? I would've gone."

"You know Jellyorum would have died before she left you break a Jellicle Law," Alonzo replied.

"So would your father," Dem countered. Alonzo grinned at this, "Yeah, well, he did find out. And he was not pleased…he forbid us from leaving the junkyard for a coupla months."

Dem laughed at this, "So that's why you wouldn't leave the yard when we went to the river! I thought you were just being a fraidy-cat!"

I began to feel left out again. Dem and Alonzo were reliving their wonderful kittenhood memories—memories created while I was away, penned up in that house on Marbry Street, serving time for a crime that really wasn't my fault. I felt that old sense of spite raise its ugly head within my soul. I felt someone watching me and I turned to see Tantomile, still removed from the rest of the Tribe, but watching me intently. I remembered my first day in the junkyard, and how she had looked at me with that same knowing expression—the one that said "You'll never belong here."

I guess that Tanto would know; after all, she had been born into this very Tribe—her parents were none other than Skimleshanks and Jennyanydots—and still, despite this, she was considered an outsider. She was not normal. Neither was Coricopat, but at least he possessed some social skills. Tanto, however, seemed to prefer being alone. She always had. I wondered why on earth someone would want to be alone when they could be the center of attention. I never understood cats like her.

Demeter's voice shook me from my thoughts, "Bombie, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" I turned around quickly. She shook her head with a wry smile, "I was saying that you need to meet my little sister."

"Your sister?" I blanched. As far as I knew, Demeter's only sibling was her littermate, Asparagus Jr. Dem nodded, "She was born this winter. A total accident. But we love her—she's just the cutest."

Just as Dem was finishing her sentence, a white kitten with mixed spots and stripes bounded up, her face alive with youthful joy, "Demi!"

Dem smiled warmly at the kit. She turned the little one to face me, "Cetty, this is Bombalurina. Bombie, this is my little sister, Etcetera."

"How do you do," the kitten said importantly, extending her paw. I accepted it, not daring to laugh at her antics. She sat up a little straighter and said, very prissily, "I am going to be Rum Tum Tugger's mate one day!"

Dem laughed at this and ruffled Etcetera's fur, "Tugger will be old and grey by the time you are old enough to have kits."

Etcetera shot her sister a dark look, her little lips forming into a pout, "Tugger loves me. You'll see—one day, he's going to ask me to the Jellicle Ball!" The kit turned her large eyes to me, "Have you ever been to the Jellicle Ball?"

"I have," I grinned mischievously at the memory. "But only once, several years ago."

"Oh, please tell me what it's like!" Etcetera fell upon my leg dramatically. "I am dying to know, and Dem won't tell me!"

Dem chuckled good-naturedly, "That's because—"

"I have to wait till I'm older," Etcetera mimicked her sister. This earned her a light swat on the head, which made her stick out her pink tongue at Dem. Etcetera turned her pleading eyes back to me, "Please? Oh, say you will, please?"

"Maybe some other time," I smiled down at her. She gave a squeal of delight and rushed off to find her friends. Dem just shook her head, a wry grin on her face, "She's a handful, but she's just too cute. Makes you wanna have kittens, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I said softly. Etcetera's embrace, her tiny paws wrapping around my leg, had reminded me of how my own kits had once held me. "It does."

Dem didn't seem to notice my nostalgic expression. She turned to go, "C'mon. Let's go see Gus."

Gus was the Theatre Cat, but now he was little more than a tottering old fool. His eyes had begun to fail him; he shook with palsy and he often forgot things. Still, when he appeared in the yard, faithfully led by his mate, Jellyorum, all the cats gathered around him. The kits enjoyed his stories of life in the theatre; the older cats respected him for his wisdom.

"Grizabella?" Gus' eyes latched on to my face. He was old, half-blind and his memory was failing, but still I bristled at the accusation. What was with these Jellicles and comparing me to a complete stranger?

"No, Pappa," Demeter said gently, tossing me an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she sat beside her father. "It's Bombalurina."

"The one your mother raised?" He looked at Dem with wondering eyes.

"Yes, Pappa."

"I thought she was dead."

Dem smiled softly; she knew I was tired of hearing that. She turned her attention to her father's coat, smoothing the fur around his face, "So did we. But she was just out of town."

"Out of town?" Gus' blue eyes looked at his daughter in confusion. Dem gave a small nod, "Yes, out of town. Bombalurina was staying with friends in the country."

She looked up at me and gave me a small smile. I was slightly shocked by her ability to lie so easily, but it was for a good reason. Demeter was trying to save me from the endless bombardment of questions that seemed to be on everyone's mind. The other cats circled around Gus seemed to believe her; they nodded to each other, as if my absence now made perfect sense. Everyone, that is, but Munkustrap, who had appeared beside Gus and now watched me with distrusting eyes. I smiled, thinking of the last time we had met. Obviously he remembered it, too, or else he wouldn't be looking at me so suspiciously. He knew I was a livewire. I snickered to think how he would react if he knew that I had gone after Macavity that night—and all the things that followed after that. I'm certain Munkustrap would have keeled over from pure shock.

I knew the Jellicles still feared and hated Macavity, although I couldn't understand why. I suppose they did not know him like I did; they had not seen the softer side. I knew that if I told anyone about my relationship with Macavity—even sweet, trusting Demeter—they would never understand. Once again, I would be an outcast, stranded even farther away from the sense of belonging that I so desperately wished for.

When I was with Mac, I knew I belonged. I was the Red Queen, the Josephine to the Napoleon of Crime, the Madame of Cards. Now I was just some prodigal cat, returning to live a life of anonymity.

Of course, it didn't have to be this way, I realized as I looked around at the curious and occasionally handsome faces of the toms in the crowd. I could lose myself in the one thing that could truly bring me joy anymore—playing chess with the hearts and minds of toms. That had always been fun.

It had been a while since I'd played such a game…but talent never really goes away.