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Another Author's Note: The other two songs in this part, 'I'se the B'y' and 'Bile them Cabbage Down' are example of Irish fiddle tunes. I will hopefully have a MIDI of all three being sung by Kashmir herself soon. :-)
"Kashmir!" Vicki called. "Where are you?" The white cat looked around. "I wish you didn't blend in so well," she mumbled to herself.
"What was that?" Kashmir said, appearing from a cardboard box.
"Nothing. Have you met that black cat?"
"Who? Misto?" Victoria nodded. "Oh yes, I tutored him a little in Irish history, specifically the potato famine."
"What, Skimble made you sing 'Skibbereen' again?"
"I love that song, but it's so sad," Kashmir complained. "It makes me think of Mistress Saoirse every time. Maybe you can sing I'se the B'y sometime. It's so much more cheerful."
At the, a small puff of smoke came up from the ground. It rose and floated in the air, taking on numerous shapes.
"I don't know, but that puff if smoke looks an awful like a cat..." Victoria said.
"Mistoffelees," they exclaimed in unison.
"Hi," he said once he had reassembled himself. He looked up. Vicki was staring at him. "Um, I think I'd better go now," he said quickly. "I just remembered a very important appointment under my bed," he added hastily.
"Oh, come on, Misto," Kashmir said. "Vicki was just going to sing another Irish song."
"I was?" Vicki said.
"Yes," Kashmir said firmly.
"Those are too sad for me," Mistoffelees mumbled. "Besides, I always get a history lesson in the end."
"This one is very happy," Kashmir insisted, "and no history lesson attached." She grabbed him by the ear and pulled him forward. Misto gathered speed and bumped into Vicki. He apologized profusely, and she just smiled, trying to catch his gaze, but it was rooted to the floor. "Go on, Vicki," Kashmir said. "I think someone needs some cheering up."
"I'se the b'y that builds the boat,
I'se the b'y who sails her
I'se the b'y who catches the fish
And brings them home to Lizer.
"I took Lizer to the dance
Faith, but she could travel
Every step that Lizer took
Covered an acre of gravel.
"Salt and rinds to cover your flake
Cake and tea for supper
Codfish in the spring of the year
Fried in maggoty butter.
"Susan White, she's out of sight
Her petticoat wants a border
Old Sam Oliver in the dark
He kissed her in the corner."
"Mmmm," Misto said before he could stop himself, and then, to cover it up, "that was rather silly."
"I hate the part about maggoty butter," Kashmir said with a shudder. "But it's good for a laugh."
"There are other songs," Victoria said. "Maybe we can sing some later."
"Yes, well, I must be going now," Misto said, suddenly aware of Vicki's gaze.
"Yes, you have that appointment under your bed," Vicki answer teasingly.
Misto just blushed harder and ran away.
"He's kinda cute, isn't he Vicki," Kashmir said, looking slyly out of the corner of her eye at Vicki.
"Y - Don't you even think about it." Vicki ran in the direction Misoffelees had gone. Kashmir's eyes followed her. "What?" said Victoria, turning around. I'm going to go find Skimbleshanks."
"Sure," Kashmir laughed, and hid her smile behind her paw.
The truth was, Victoria was going to find Skimbleshanks. But she was going to see if she could find Misto first. He had looked so embarrassed, and she hoped he wasn't doing anything stupid. She thought about that. Misto obviously like her. She wasn't that dumb. He was pretty cute. Okay, very cute. All right, may as well be honest, no one's a pyschic, he's extremely cute. But did she like him? That nervous, shy little tom? Maybe she could get him to break out of his shell...
"Ah, there you are, Vicki!" Skimbleshanks boomed, frightening his cousin's friend. "You seen Kashmir? Oh well, we'll find her. And I wanted to find Misto, too. Tell you what. Why don't we split up. I'll-"
"Why don't you look for Kashmir, and I'll look for Misto," Victoria said eagerly. To mask it, she added, "What does he look like again? The little black one?"
"Yes, the one that disappears in a shower of sparkles," Skimbleshanks said, perfectly serious and only trying to offer an accurate description.
"Thanks," Vicki said and she ran off, her paw over her mouth to muffle her laughter.
"Hey, Jemima," Vicki said, beginning her search. You seen a shower of - I mean, you seen Misto?"
"No, why?" Jemima narrowed her eyes before she could stop herself. What did Victoria want with Misto?
Vicki noticed her hostile glare. "Um, Skimble's looking for him."
"I see," Jemima said in a more pleasant tone, "if I see him, I'll tell him."
"Okay," Victoria said, and continued on.
Meanwhile, Mistoffelees could be found in a completely different area. He had been going to hide in the first cardboard box he found, but was pulled over by Munkustrap.
"Hey, Misto," Munkustrap called, "Come here. I want you to look at something."
Misto slowly approached the older tom. "What is it?"
"Look out there," Munkustrap said, pointing to an old alley near the junkyard, "and tell me what you see."
"I see..." Misto shaded his eyes with his paw. "I see a cat. But it doesn't appear to be from our tribe. That's odd," he added in surprise, "it's behaving funny. Turning in circles like a dog. Do you think..." Misto turned to Munkustrap.
"Right," Munkustrap said. "That's what I'm thinking, too. We'd better investigate." They ran off in the direction of the alley.
Their approach was cautious. They had a suspicion that this cat was very ill, and the last thing either wanted to do was get bitten. Misto climbed onto a barrel, and Munkustrap followed. This put them in a position where they were looking down on the cat.
It was a thin, sickly looking creature, a tom, with a strange combination of stripes and spots. Its fur was matted and its eyes were a dull green, without the usual brightness that shines in a cat's eyes. There was a bloody, frothy foam dripping out of the cat's mouth, and it moved slowly, stiffly, as if it was in pain.
"Rabies," Munkustrap whispered, and Misto nodded.
"What'll we do?" Misto asked. "We can't have it running around biting cats, but can we just kill it? We daren't risk getting near it."
"That's where you come in."
"Oh, no," Misto said. "You're not doing this to me again. You and the other toms are always pitying me because I'm smaller, but as soon as something needs to be done, it's," and here his voice rose in mockery, "'Ask Misto, ask Misto. He'll do it for you. He has all the answers. When you're magic, you can do anything.' Well, I'll tell you something, Munkustrap, just because-"
"Shut up, will you? I get your point," Munkustrap said angrily. "Isn't there something you can do without going near the bloody thing, I don't know, pick up a knife or something and stab him?"
"Well..." Misto began reluctantly.
"Yes?"
"You know how when you go to the vet, if you have to get operated on or something, they use some sort of liquid to put you to sleep temporarily? What's that stuff called... ani... ane..."
"Anaesthetic," Munkustrap supplied.
"Yes, anaesthetic," Misto said. "Anyway, if you give an animal an overdose of this stuff, he's killed, painlessly. Or at least, that's what I've heard. I've no desire to try it, myself."
"So?" Munkustrap said impatiently.
"So, I know exactly where they keep it at the vet's. I can conjure it up and then stick him with it. He'll never feel pain." Misto whimpered once, softly. "I couldn't bear the thought of just stabbing him. I mean, his heart bursting... He's a living creature you know."
"What are you, some sort of sentimental-"
"Well, at least I have feelings," Misto snapped. "Kill Pekes, sure, but your fellow cat, in cold blood, no less? Come on."
"All right, fine then, whatever you're doing, do it quick, will ya?" Munkustrap offered a low growl, which Misto ignored.
"Okay, but I need something to turn into the needle," Misto explained. He grinned impishly. "How'd you like to be turned into anaesthetic for a while, Munk? You are pretty hot to kill this thing."
Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "No thank you, Murderous Mr. Mistoffelees, I think I'd rather make you catch a mouse instead."
Misto sighed. "If I must," he said, "but it would have been such fun to turn you into a rabbit. Oops, did I say rabbit? I meant-"
"Oh, just get on with it, will you?"
In answer, Misto produced a mouse. Munk didn't even ask, and Misto continued with his magic. Soon a sinister looking needle lay in his paws, full of a yellow-brown liquid with an evil smell. The cat seemed to have fallen asleep, and he twitched and squirmed. Mistoffelees looked at Munkustrap with horror-filled eyes. Munkustrap simply pushed him forward.
Misto approached the cat quietly, and the tom didn't stir. As deftly as a vet himself, the black cat reached forward and eased the needle into the skin and injected the poison. The cat jerked once, sighed, and lay still. His heavy breathing continued a few minutes, lightened, and then stopped.
"Let's go back," Misto said, and they headed back to the junkyard. As they neared the area, there was the sound of happy chatter and music.
"What's going on?" Munkustrap asked as he burst in on the scene in his usual away. Misto followed a little farther behind, although he came in a lot more quietly.
"Where've you been?" Alonzo asked curiously. "Kashmir and Victoria are leaving tomorrow, so we're having a little party. More Irish songs, you know. Where do they all come from?" He shook his head.
Tumblebrutus came up behind Alonzo. "There's one right now that you'd like, Misto. All about cabbage."
"Ha ha," Misto laughed sarcastically, but found himself being pulled toward the group, where the music was already playing. Someone was singing, but Misto couldn't tell who.
"Bile them cabbage down, down,
Bake them biscuits brown, brown,
Only tune I ever did learn was
Bile them cabbage down.
"June bug he has wings of gold,
The firefly wings of flame,
The bedbug's got no wings at all
But gets there just the same.
"Love it is a killing fit
When beauty hits a blossom
And if you want your finger bit,
Just poke it at a possum.
"Raccoon and the possum
Rackin' cross the prairie
Raccoon asked the possum
Did she want to marry?
"Possum is a cunning thing
He travels in the dark,
And never thinks to curl his tail
Till he hears old Rover bark."
"Hmph! Seemed more about possums than anything else," Misto said when the song was finished as he glared at Tumblebrutus. The other tom merely shrugged and smiled.
Skimble was talking to Kashmir not far off, his voice slightly worried. "Kashmir, if Saoirse is dead, then where are you going t' go? What about Victoria?" Mistoffelees' ears perked up at the sound of the name.
"Oh, we'll find a home for Vicki, somewhere," Kashmir answered nonchalantly. "As for me, I'll wander about. Always have. I'll find someone to take me in, temporarily. Maybe I'll try the mountains. Nothing this purr can't do." She let out a sample rumble.
"I don't like it, Kash," Skimble argued. "All alone, and nowhere t' go? What if a Peke caught you? There are dogs oot of every nation, you know, the Irish, the Welsh, and the Dane. Or if you got caught in a storm," he added, changing battle tactics, "or got sick, or any number of other thing. And what if you couldn't find a place for Vicki?"
"Oh, Skimble!" Kashmir cried, exasperated. "You always did know how to make one feel uneasy."
"Only stating t' facts," Skimble said in defense. "Why doon't you stay here? Plenty of room. You could stay with me. I'm sure if you purred enough for the stationmaster's daughters they'd let you in right quick. And I'm sure that we could find someplace for Vicki to stay. Maybe Jellylorum will take her in, or perhaps Munkustrap, or someone."
"She could stay with Misto," Kashmir remarked casually, with a glance in his direction. Misto's heart caught in his throat.
"Well, there now, that's an idea," Skimble replied thoughtfully. "Yes, that might work very well." He narrowed his eyes. "That is of course, you promise you'll stay with me. For a while, at least."
"Oh, all right," Kashmir sighed.
"Misto!" Skimble called. "Victoria!"
Both cats appeared, breathless, in a matter of seconds.
"Vicki, Kashmir's agreed to stay here for a bit, and we need a place for you t' stay. Kashmir recommends Mistoffelees, so I would just like to know, Victoria, would you mind staying in Misto's place for a while, and Misto, would you mind having her?"
Victoria smiled. "Not at all," she said.
Mistoffelees felt like his face was on fire. He had turned bright red, or the crayon color 'tickle-me-pink'. He managed to stutter, "S-s-s-sure."
"Well, then," Skimble cried, relieved. "That's takin' care of. Now let's get back to your party. You aren't going to be going away anymore, but it's no good t' just cancel t' festivities, no, is it? Don't need a reason to have a good time!" He skipped off merrily. Kashmir rolled her eyes, smiled, and scurried after him.
"You're sure you don't mind?" Misto said nervously to Vicki.
"Of course not." Vicki grinned. "Why?"
"Well, I..." Mistoffelees trailed off.
Victoria laughed. "Come on, Misto," she said, "maybe we'll be in time to see Skimble pester Kash into 'Skibbereen'. Let me tell you, it's a sight well worth seeing if they start to get angry! Come on!" She grabbed his paw and pulled him along.
But Mistoffelees' heart was singing, "Love it is a killing fit, when beauty hits a blossom..."