"He wants to perform so that he can go to the Heaviside Layer," Munkustrap told his father, having come to the elder Tom to share his concerns. "I just, I don't want to encourage him. He's so young, although Everlasting Cat knows he's done more than enough saving those kittens to earn a dance of his own."
Old Deuteronomy nodded his noble grey head and purred comfortingly as his son lay out all his worries about the coming Jellicle Ball. This, concerning Mistoffelees, was by far the heaviest of them.
"Do you know how I choose who goes above?" he finally asked his son.
"No." Munkustrap was surprised at the question. "I guess, on their dance, on the merit of the cat, on their need…."
"The truth is," Deuteronomy told him in his warm and reassuring voice, "I don't choose. In that moment the Everlasting Cat talks to me, and I bow to its judgement. Never has its decision been wrong, or caused me discomfort or doubt."
Munkustrap gaped at his father - the Everlasting Cat was part of all cats, but to have it direct thoughts to you alone – this was an honour above all else!
"The dances and the songs are still important," the old cat continued earnestly. "If a cat is called above, those will be the last memories the tribe will have of them. And it never hurts to remind cats of what others amongst them have achieved in their lifetime, either. Remember when Majestica went?"
Munkustrap swallowed heavily. He remembered. Little Mistoffelees had been struggling fiercely in his arms, trying to get to his mother. She had been helped to the bottom of the ascension stairway, but had had to claw her way up alone, the none responsive half of her body dragged painfully, horribly, behind her.
The decision had been drastic, a mother leaving her kit behind, but with her broken back she would not have lived long anyway. It was pure luck that the Winter Solstice Ball had been mere days after her fall from the tree. Ascension to the Heaviside Layer did not usually occur then, but on special occasions in the past it had, and Deuteronomy had indicated that the same would apply that night.
There had been no dance, no song. Magestica had painfully made her way to the top and the others had watched her go in silence. The whole thing had been too horrible for even the joy that she would be returning to a new Jellicle life to bring much comfort.
"I remember," Munkustrap whispered to his father. Deuteronomy purred louder and rested a paw on his sons shoulder.
"That was not the best last memory to have of her." The old Tom contemplated his sons face for a moment. It was still a young face, but prone to introspection and worry. "It is up to you whether you let the kit sing, but know that I am positive that the Everlasting Cat will not call him. A kitten has never been called before," he finished reassuringly and Munkustrap let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," the silver tabby was comforted by his father's words. He would wait until closer to the day to decide if letting Mistoffelees perform was a good idea.
Tugger had been leaning on him pretty hard not to, which was unusual in itself. The Rum Tum Tugger generally didn't bother with Ball business. He was far more interested in balls, … oh Everlasting Cat, his wicked brother was starting to rub off on him! That is, not rub off, but – oh, never mind!
"Now," Deuteronomy continued, leaning back and looking at his son with a twinkle in his eye. "I hear you are putting on my favourite play, about the Awful Battle of the Pekes…."
Munkustrap slapped a paw to his face in exasperation. Oh Everlasting Cat, Old Deuteronomy knew about it, that meant they would have to go ahead with the whole, dreadful shambles.
"I am so looking forwards to seeing my favourite play!" Old Deuteronomy grinned.