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Summary: Why who should Victoria, Misto, and Tugger need to rescue but the great Rumpus Cat!
The season had gone from frigid fall to freezing winter, and with the arrival of the first frost came the inevitable change of age. Certain pieces of junk that had rested in the junkyard for as long as anyone could remember began to decay and fade away; Skimbleshanks's old joints began to hurt him so that he spent the chilly mornings inside; all of the cats in the junkyard grew a thick winter coat that made them look more like bears than cats; but the most obvious change of all was in Mistoffelees.
When he had first arrived at the junkyard in early fall, he was but a tiny, weak kitten who was often sick. Now, though, he was quite a strong young cat with bright blue eyes and muscles that rippled faintly beneath his velvety coat when he pounced on the withered leaves that blew across the junkyard. His voice, though seldom heard, had deepened from a squeaky mew to a soft, purring sound that was pleasant to hear. He was still as small, shy and withdrawn as ever, and the others doubted he would ever outgrow that, but as long as he kept out from underfoot they were contented to let him go his own way.
The wind was particularly biting one night, the air especially icy, and most of the cats had fallen asleep in groups, huddled closely together under boxes and behind pieces of furniture to block the wind and keep warm. Misto picked his way around and over the masses of furry bodies, hopping madly from foot to foot and crossing his paws over his chest in a futile effort to circulate his frozen blood. His teeth chattered loudly despite his efforts to keep them clenched tight.
He spotted the Rum Tum Tugger amidst a pile of female bodies and leaped gracefully over Etcetera to get to him. "Tugger," he whispered loudly. "Tugger!"
"Whazzat?" the tom replied, sitting up and looking around drowsily.
"Can I sleep over here?" Misto asked, rubbing his arms frantically with his paws. They had long since gone numb, a new and unpleasant feeling to the young Jellicle.
"Nah," Tugger yawned. "There's no more room. Sorry, Cassandra." With that he laid back down and exhaled a snore.
Misto growled and stepped over the tom, hopping over to where Munkustrap and Demeter were sleeping. Their bodies were entertwined so that you could not tell where one ended and the other began. Demeter's head rested on Munkustrap's flank, and his on hers. Both were purring loudly. Misto decided against waking them and stood miserably, scanning the junkyard for other Jellicles. Alonzo, Tumble- brutus, Coricopat and Tantomile dozed in a jumble of arms, legs and tails which looked quite warm indeed, so Misto made his way to their spot, behind an overturned sofa. He curled up somewhere between what he thought was Tantomile and Tumblebrutus, but was literally kicked out of the group by Alonzo, who had awoken and stretched. "Get lost," he muttered to Misto, who hissed in return and stalked away.
"I'm freezing to death and no one cares," the blue eyed cat called in a singsong voice. His words echoed around the junkyard, but were favored with no response. With a heavy sigh he wandered off, searching for a place that might hold warmth and comfort. The best he was able to do was a cardboard box that had blown over on its side. It was facing so that the full force of the wind hit the inside of it and with every gust it scooted forwards an inch or two, but with a little effort Misto was able to flip it over, away from the gale. He entered the box and stretched out with a shiver on its floor.
But even then sleep was kept away, for his eyes had not been shut a full minute before someone kicked him lightly in the ribs. He opened them again, startled, and found himself staring up at Victoria. She was rubbing her arms with her paws in much the same way that he had done. "Who're you?" she asked. He sat up so that the moonlight fell on his face and smiled. "Oh, it's you. Good. Move over."
He complied, and she curled up next to him. "It's like an icebox outside," she complained. "I was sleeping by Tugger, but Bombalurina took up too much room."
"I tried that, but there wasn't enough room for me either. He called me Cassandra," Misto said with a chuckle. Victoria giggled.
"That sounds like something he'd do," she remarked, interrupting herself with a languid yawn. "Good Heaviside, I'm still cold." She moved closer to Misto. He laid his head on her back and closed his eyes again.
"You know, I wonder if it ever gets this cold in Pall Mall," she said. He opened his eyes slowly and peered at her.
"Why on earth do you want to know?" he asked.
"That's where Bustopher Jones is right now. I heard Jellylorum talking about it. The fat old thing; he's probably eating caviar in some sunny restaurant." Though the thought of a sunny restaurant appealed to Misto, the mention of caviar, which he had eaten once after it had sat in his old owners' fridge for two weeks, made his stomach turn.
"Who cares?" he said, closing his eyes for the third time. "That's fine for him. I'd rather be in the junkyard than anywhere else on earth."
"Oh, don't tell me you have no sense of adventure," Victoria persisted, rolling over so that Misto had to move his head. "There's got to be someplace you'd rather be."
"You tell me where you'd rather be first," Misto replied, settling back down without opening his eyes. Victoria draped herself over his back in a most uncomfortable position and then quickly rearranged herself on his other side. He was becoming annoyed and wished she would just stay put, despite the fact that her company was desirable in defense against the cold.
"Hmmm," she thought aloud, kneading her claws against his face. He squinched his eyes shut to keep from having them poked out and winced when her claws made contact with the flesh of his cheek. "I've heard Paris is nice this time of year." It wasn't true. She'd never been to Paris, nor did she know anyone who had, but she'd always wanted to go.
"Maybe we'll visit there someday," Misto yawned. "How about you?" Victoria asked, returning the yawn. Her eyes were growing heavy.
"Oh, I don't know. I've always wanted to see the countryside."
"Which countryside?"
"Any countryside." Their words had become slow and sleepy, and the sound of the purring which always occurs between sleeping cats soon reverberated off the walls of the box.
"Wake up, Misto," Victoria called into his ear. He opened his eyes, glared at her, and closed them again. "Don't be difficult," she scolded, pulling on his ears.
"I'm being difficult?" he mumbled, not moving his head from its resting place atop his paws.
"Honestly, you're as stubborn as a Pollicle," she whined, yanking his tail. He growled and snatched it away from her, tucking it under his body so she couldn't get at it again.
Victoria was undaunted. She took hold of his feet from under his haunches and towed him slowly out of the box. She succeeded in getting his hindquarters out of the box when she spotted Tugger coming towards them, flanked on either side by his female companions. "Tugger, help," she complained, dropping Misto's feet, which were instantly vacuumed back into place under his body.
"Step aside, girls," Tugger said with a grin. His flock moved away and watched in admiration as he spat on both his paws and rubbed them together. He took hold of Misto's feet and yanked him quickly out into the sun, leaving deep ruts in the bottom of the box where the black cat had frantically tried to grip with his claws.
"Can't you let a tired cat get some rest?" Misto exhaled wearily. "I was up all night, first trying to find a place to sleep and then putting up with squirmy here." He motioned with his head towards Victoria, who glared at him.
"It's not my fault you're lumpy," she argued. "I couldn't get comfortable." She turned to Tugger. "Thank you," she said. "I'm glad there are some agreeable cats in this junkyard."
Tugger bowed and swaggered off, followed by the cooing flock of females. "He thinks he's so... so..." Misto searched for the word. "Perfect," he finished.
"Well," Victoria sighed. "He's not. Come on, let's go."
"Go where?" Misto replied, rubbing his eyes with the back of his paw.
"To Paris. You said we'd go," she said, as if it were no big deal.
"I never said that. I said we might go, one day, but not today."
"All right, I give in. I'm hungry," she changed the subject abruptly as she was apt to do. He rolled his eyes and held out his paws. She took them and pulled him to his feet. "Honestly, Mistoffelees! You're not an old cat!"
Breakfast at the junkyard consisted of scrounging in trash cans and under pieces of junk, a process which was usually unwieldy because most of the cats hoarded what they found and would not share. Jennyanydots had once tried to start a sort of food pantry in the stove where she and Jellylorum shared residence, but the food that did not spoil was gone within a matter of days, eaten by the Jellicles who were too lazy to find their own, so the idea was abandoned.
"Nothing in this one," Misto called to Victoria, balancing dangerously on the rim of the last trash can in the junkyard.
"Darn," Victoria said, whacking the side of the can with the flat of her paw. The can wobbled and Misto fell inside, landing with a loud clank at the bottom of it.
"Oh, wonderful. Thanks, Vickie," he muttered, making a few mad leaps for the rim of the can. On the last try he succeeded in catching it with his claws, and with a tremendous amount of strength pulled himself up and out of the can.
"Now what are we going to do?" she asked him. "The cans are empty. We've scoured every last inch of the junkyard. We've tried bribing Tumblebrutus. I'm still hungry."
Before Misto could answer her, Skimbleshanks came running up with an excited look on his face. "Munkustrap's called a meeting!" he exclaimed, his glass green eyes flashing.
"That's great, Skimble. Will there be refreshments?" Victoria asked sarcastically.
"I don't know, lass. All I know is that it's important." He smiled quickly at Misto before darting off in the direction of the broken down automobile which marked the entrance to the junkyard. He and Victoria exchanged curious glances and followed.
The usual crowd of cats had gathered at the base of the big tire that served as a podium from which speeches were delivered from either Munkustrap or Old Deuteronomy. The tire was used only for very urgent purposes; otherwise, meetings were held in the yard of Munkustrap's domicile. Everyone except for Bustopher Jones was there, sitting close together to preserve heat, for the feeble winter sunlight provided light but not warmth. When Misto and Victoria arrived at the tire, Munkustrap was standing on the wide tread of the tire and preparing himself to speak. He cleared his throat loudly, and the waves of fervent whispering that washed over the crowd ceased.
"I, uh, have an announcement to make," he said, wincing at the "uh" that had wormed its way into his introduction. He was usually an excellent speaker, but the gravity of his message affected his countenance. "We have received word from the Rumpus Cat that he needs our help. It appears that he has been captured."
A burst of mixed conversation came from the group of cats. Several of them shouted out things. Misto caught snatches of words and phrases: "Doesn't exist!" "Not possible!" "Who's going to..." "Must be joking!"
Munkustrap raised his paws to silence the shouts. "I know what you're all thinking," he said, looking helplessly at the crowd. "But I have thought very deeply about the matter. I realize that it could be a fraud, a practical joke." His eyes sought out Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer in the crowd, but their faces wore a puzzled expression. "I realize, too, that it could be a trap, a trick laid out by Macavity." This suggestion was greeted by a collective gasp from the audience. "Despite these dangers, it is our duty to come to the aid of our fellow cat, even if he is presumed to be a myth. The message was brought to our attention by a mouse who claims to have been caught by Rumpus Cat while in captivity and released on the premise that he deliver it, which he did. This story not only adds to the myth of Rumpus Cat but may also prove his existence."
"Who are you going to get to go after him?" someone asked. Munkustrap cleared his throat again.
"I was hoping for, ah, some volunteers," he said, scanning the crowd hopefully. No one spoke up, but many laughed at the absurdity of such a suggestion. Who among them would be stupid enough to endanger their very lives for a cat no one was sure even existed?
"I'll go," Victoria said, standing up.
"Vicki, are you nuts?" Misto hissed at her, grasping her paw and trying to pull her back down. She took advantage of it and yanked him to his feet.
"And Misto will, too," she added, grinning at Munkustrap, who suddenly looked as though he hadn't slept in days. Misto looked imploringly at the tabby and shook his head firmly from side to side, tapping his temple with his claw to show that his companion had temporarily lost her mind.
"Does anyone else," Munkustrap sighed, running his paw through the fur on his head, "want to volunteer?" He was greeted by silence. Everyone was too stunned by Victoria's proposition to speak. "Anyone?"
"Come on, Munkustrap, give us a chance," Victoria insisted, fixing him with a level stare.
"You kids have got to be joking," Tugger said with a laugh.
"Well, Tugger, I didn't see you volunteer," Munkustrap said with a frown. "All right, Victoria, you may have your chance." She grinned at him and turned to Misto, who had turned a shade of green beneath his fur and was a little wobbly all of a sudden. "But," he added, "I'm sending someone with you two. Tugger! Won't you do me a favor and escort these brave young cats on their escapade?"
The smirk vanished from Tugger's face, appeared on Munkustrap's, and was replaced by a look of horror that masked all trace of Tugger's previous good humor. "Aw, Munk!" he stammered.
"That's right. Go on, now, it's important that we act as soon as possible. The mouse, Metisaldo, can be found at the warehouse outside the city. He can tell you more. Meeting adjourned," Munkustrap said with a wry smile. He hopped down from the tire and went to Victoria. The rest of the cats, still shocked at the outcome of the meeting, dispersed in silence.
"I'm impressed," the tabby said to the white cat, who stared at him with pride. "That took guts. Keep Tugger in line and make sure he does his job. I'm sure you'll be all right as long as you avoid rats and Pollicles and plan things carefully before jumping into action." Victoria nodded and shook his paw with the vigor of a tom.
"I need to sit down," Misto said, and did so with an audible thump.
Tugger came running up with the same horrified look on his face. "You can't be serious," he said to Munkustrap, who merely gazed calmly at his friend. "Munk, the guy doesn't exist, for the Heaviside's sake!"
"We don't know that for sure," the tabby protested. "You're going to find out. Whether you want to or not." He turned and sauntered away, leaving the imperious she-cat and the unbelieving toms to their voyage.
Rumpus Cat Rescue II
"How much further do we have to go?" complained Tugger. "My feet hurt. I'm cold. And hungry. And tired."
"Quit whining," Victoria told him, stopping at the end of the sidewalk to glance from left to right. "You slept just fine last night surrounded by your adoring fans; Misto and I watched you eat a mouse this morning which you would not share; and we're all cold. It must be thirty below out here."
"Actually, it's 17 degrees Fahrenheit," Mistoffelees said with an amiable grin. His remark was greeted by curious glances from his companions.
"Which way is the warehouse from here?" Victoria muttered.
"Hey, why don't you let me lead for a while?" Tugger asked. "I'll get us there before you can say..."
"Pollicle!" Misto interrupted, making a mad dash up the nearest tree.
"What's he talking about? There's no..." Victoria didn't finish her sentence, for at that moment a huge black dog came tearing around the corner, snarling and slobbering and barking madly. She screeched and followed Misto up the tree. "Tugger!" she yelled. "You idiot, don't just stand there, do you want to be eaten alive?"
Tugger was rooted to the spot. He hissed at the dog, who jumped back a pace or two, then advanced again with malice in his glittering black eyes. A spark of flame ignited his tail, and when he turned around to see what had happened to his appendage, Tugger saw his chance to escape and darted up the trunk of the same tree.
"Make him go away!" Victoria yelled at Misto, pulling his tail.
"I can't, I don't know how! Stop it, you'll make me fall," he responded, digging his claws into the branch to steady himself. He looked down at what was probably a twelve foot drop and became queasy.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're a cat, you'll land on your feet. And what do you mean, you don't know how? You just fried his tail, didn't you?" She looked impatiently at the dog, who was circling the tree and barking madly up at them.
Misto frowned at her. "I can't remember what I did," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the sight of the ground which was so far below.
"For the love of mice, Misto!" Victoria said, pushing him hard in the back with her paws. She gasped when she realized what she'd done and frantically tried to grab hold of him as he swayed to and fro on the branch, but after what seemed like an eternity of wobbling he toppled out of the tree and landed on the Pollicle's back. The dog began to run around in small circles, trying to chase his aggressor but unable to see him.
"Go for his ears, kid!" Tugger yelled. "That's the way! Claw his eyes out! Don't let go of 'im, Misto, he'll throw ya!" The tom was obviously having fun watching Misto ride the dog like a cowboy rides a bull, but Misto, however, did not share the sentiment.
"I want off! I'm getting sick! I'm losing my grip!" he shrieked, digging his claws into the back of the baying mutt. Suddenly the ground around the dog turned red with heat and the Pollicle gave a shriek himself. Misto was flung into the base of the tree, but the dog ran off, whimpering and casting nervous glances over his shoulder.
"Stupid mutt," Misto muttered, sitting up and dusting himself off. His back was sore from where he had hit the tree (or perhaps from Victoria's push), but he made no remark concerning pain to the others. Instead he shook his paw at the retreating Pollicle. "What a coward!"
"Good job, kid," Tugger grinned and whacked the cat on his back. Misto doubled over in pain but managed to cast Tugger an appreciative glance. "Are you coming, Vickster?" Tugger called, shielding his eyes with his paw and gazing into the tree.
"Don't call me that," came the indignant reply. "Um... no. You go ahead, I'll catch up."
Misto sighed, realizing what was the matter. "Jump, Vicki. I'll catch you."
She leaned forward on the tree branch so that her face could be seen. "What if you miss?" she said.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're a cat, you'll land on your feet," Misto mumbled. "I won't miss," he insisted.
"What did you say? Before that, I mean. Was it about me?"
"Just jump, Vicki! We'll never get to the Rumpus Cat if you're stuck in a tree!" He spread out his arms to show her he was ready to catch her. She arched an eyebrow at him, but stepped off the branch and made a graceful descent. She landed on top of Misto, knocking him over and into Tugger. "Told you I wouldn't miss," he groaned, pushing her off of himself.
"All right. Which way to the warehouse?" Victoria asked, heading towards the end of the sidewalk. She started to step off the curb but Tugger yanked her back by the tail as a speeding car zoomed by, leaving tire marks and a cloud of smoke in its wake.
"Gotta watch out for those, hon," he said. He was visibly shaken by the encounter. Misto felt sure that, despite Tugger's cool exterior, he would have been crushed if anything had happened to Vicki. Tugger was funny that way.
"Yes. Well," Vicki was shaken too, but she was able to mask it behind an air of importance. "I think we're supposed to go..."
"This way," Misto interrupted, tired of the whole debate. He passed Victoria and began walking self- assuredly down the street to the right.
"Are you sure?" Vicki asked. "I think it's this way." "No. It's definitely this way," Misto said. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her with one eyebrow cocked.
"You go that way, then, and I'll go this way," she responded, giving him a cold stare.
"No, no, no, you're not going to do that to me! I have to keep up with both of you. I can't just split in half, you know." Tugger looked desperate. Misto felt sorry for him.
"Vicki, I'm telling you, it's this way," Misto insisted, taking her by the arm and dragging her down the road. She did not resist, but she didn't cooperate either, dragging her feet along the road and making it hard for the small black cat to pull her. "See?" he said, pointing towards the warehouse that was steadily becoming visible over the horizon.
The warehouse was a huge, abandoned gray building that was in horrible disrepair. The outer walls of the building were crumbling and covered in large patches of mold and mildew. The place itself stank of dampness and stagnancy, and water dripped from the roof onto the cold concrete floor inside. Tugger shivered upon entering. "It's colder in here than it is outside," he complained, his breath a white cloud in the frigid air.
"The place is empty!" Vicki exclaimed. It was the truth. There was nothing in the huge building but a few cardboard boxes that lay in a haphazard fashion in the corner and a large, dark oil stain in the middle of the floor.
"No, it's not. Are youse dem cats who want to help the cat what let me go?" a voice asked. Misto turned around to see a small gray mouse sitting placidly on its haunches and looking up at him inquisitively. "I'm Metisaldo. That cat saved me wife from bein' a widder and me kids from bein' orphans. Any friend o' his is a friend o' mine. Right this way, gentleman. And lady," he added, winking jovially at Victoria. He turned and waddled into a hole in the wall, for he was a very fat little mouse. Misto wrinkled his nose in amusement; he had never known a mouse before, but if they were all as blithe as this little fellow he hoped to meet more.
"We can't fit in there," Victoria called after him, lowering her head and peering into the hole.
"Of course not," Metisaldo replied, returning with a sheepish grin. "Ol' Aldo, he sometimes forgets things, you know. Call me Aldo, by the way. All me friends do."
Tugger licked his lips and watched the mouse intently, the tip of his tail twitching menacingly. Misto frowned at the tom. "We really can't stay long," he explained to the mouse. "We just need to know where to find Rumpus Cat so we can rescue him."
"Oh, aye," Aldo said. "The family's out for the afternoon anyway or I'd introduce ya. But let me tell ya, we're all very grateful to you for saving him. The cat what let me go, I mean. We're even more grateful to him." He settled down on his haunches again and beamed at the cats. "Little Natacia, she's not been well lately, and what with workin' two jobs and all..." he sighed. "I don't know what we'd all do without each other. We're a very close-knit family. All we mice are like that."
Tugger suddenly looked heartsick. "None of your family went to the junkyard in the city this morning, did they?" he asked.
"Nah, too far away. We always stay within callin' distance of each other." Tugger breathed a sigh of relief and secretly vowed to cut down to one mouse a week. "Well, I know you're all in somewhat of a hurry, so perhaps I'd better just tell you now. Y'see, I was goin' to the vet'rinarian's yestiddy mornin' to see if I could filch some more of Natacia's vitamins. Well, as I was leavin' by way of the room in back with all the cages in it, somethin' pinned my tail down from behind. I whirled around and there was this big cat, bigger than any I'd ever seen!" He peered at Misto, whose eyes had grown round. "Anyways, he says to me, 'hey mouse!' He says 'hey mouse! I'll let you go on one condition.' Well, of course I asked him what it was, because I do have quite a large family after all. 'You have to give me your word,' he says, so I says 'I promise,' and he says to go the junkyard inside the city and ask for Munkustrap. He says not to worry about getting eaten, and then he gives me this secret password, only I can't tell ya what it is because I promised him I wouldn't tell nobody but Munkustrap. So then he lets me go, and the first thing I did after takin' Natacia her vitamins was to run to the junkyard and tell the first can I seen. Luckily it was Munkustrap." He grinned proudly.
"So Rumpus Cat is at the vet's!" Victoria exclaimed. "Well, this will turn out to be easier than we thought. My family used to take me there once a month; it's not far from here, and I know the place like the back of my paw."
"Just a minute, miss," Aldo said, shaking his head. "As I was leavin', I sees a man in a white coat take the cat and put him in a box. They carried him outside and put him in a truck."
The cats looked disheartened at the news, but managed to keep up a cheerful demeanor. "Well," Victoria said, shaking the mouse's tiny paw, "you've been very helpful. Perhaps we'll meet again."
"See ya around, mouse," Tugger said with a grin, leading the way out the door. Misto just smiled shyly and followed without speaking.
"Hope you find him all right!" Aldo called after them, waving frantically with his paw.
"Wonderful," Tugger muttered. "He could be anywhere in the city. He could be anywhere outside the city, for that matter. Heck, he might not even be captured anymore! That means we can all go home. Come on, kitties!"
"You know what Munkustrap said, that stuff about our duty to our fellow cat and all. And besides, if we go home now we'll never find out if Rumpus Cat really exists." Victoria put up a pretty good argument, and Misto gazed at her admiringly. He felt heat rising to his face and looked away. "Besides, Tugger," she said with an air of insolence, "where's your sense of adventure?"
"Hey, I'm adventurous enough!" he protested. Misto rolled his eyes.
"Does anyone else want to lead for a while? I don't have the slightest idea where to go next, and the wind is really hitting me up front," Victoria sighed. She looked very pretty with her white fur blowing in the wind, and Misto was careful not to blush as he took her place at the head of the expedition.
"I have an idea about where he is," Tugger piped up from behind. "But you're not going to like it."
"Where?" Victoria asked eagerly.
"Where do most animals go when they get captured?"
"You don't mean..."
"The pound." The situation was too grave for them to realize that their conversation was starting to sound like the dialogue in a poorly written adventure story. Misto's eyes had grown large and turned a paler shade of blue. His face, too, seemed paler beneath the white fur of his face.
"I'm not going there," he moaned softly, backing away from them. He stumbled over a bump in the concrete of the sidewalk and fell, landing on his back, but he didn't make a noise or bother to get up. He just laid there as if frozen, staring up at them with his panicked eyes, his mouth ajar.
Victoria went to him and took his paws in hers. "Nothing will happen to you, Misto. I promise," she said soothingly. Tugger watched, confused and alarmed at the black cat's cataleptic state. Misto shook his head and seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Vicki skeptically, but allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
"Well," Tugger said, "we'd better, um, start on our way, 'cause it's kinda far, ya know, and..." He glanced apprehensively at the sun, which was quickly receding over the horizon, leaving a trail of dusk behind it. Victoria took the hint.
"All right. Lead the way, Tugger," she ordered. He responded with a sarcastic bow and began his usual self-righteous swagger down the pavement. She sighed and followed, keeping close to Misto. The black cat walked slowly and looked as though he were forcing himself to walk forwards. She could see the fear glittering in his eyes, but he said nothing about it and instead stared resolutely forward.
"How do we get in?" Vicki whispered. The sun had gone completely down by the time they reached the treacherous building, and they crouched behind a shrub under cover of darkness. The pound was a long, flat, white building with barred windows and a huge metal door. There were no other entrances.
"One of us will have to act like we're hurt and make a big racket. Then when the man in the white coat comes outside to see what's going on, the other two can sneak in," Tugger said.
"Great idea, Tugger! Start acting."
He looked at her with one eyebrow cocked and his lip curled in a sneer. "Oh, yeah right!" he hissed. "It was my idea!"
"That's why you should do it. Now go on!" she shoved him out from behind the bush and sent him rolling to a stop in front of the metal door. He glanced back at her uncertainly, and at her nod began to yowl unmercifully loud. He screeched and caterwauled and made so much noise that Misto squinched his eyes shut. "Come on, Misto, get ready," Vicki told him, taking firm hold of his paw. He smiled and squeezed her paw reassuringly, for he could sense the tension in her voice.
"Now!" she hissed when the metal door opened. They darted behind the man's legs and into the building without being noticed while the man stooped to tend to the screaming tom.
"What's the matter, boy?" the man asked Tugger. "Are you hurt?" Tugger continued to meow, curling up so that the man could not inspect him.
"Which cage, which cage?" Misto muttered inside the pound. All along the walls there were empty cages; a few had Pollicles in them, but a small tag at the bottom of the cage had someone's name on it, signifying that the dogs had been claimed. They barked at the cat, who hissed back at them.
"Down here!" Vicki called, her voice thick with awe. Misto ran down the hall of cages and stared with wonder at her discovery.
The Rumpus Cat was not a cat at all, but a direct descendent of the great Panther Qu. Panther Qu was the greatest panther in all the jungle of Peru, which was a fact obviously distinguishable by looking at the Rumpus Cat. His fur was glossy black, accented with streaks of glorious silver; his body was long and muscular; his head was shaped like that of a jungle cat, with rounded ears that sat close together; his eyes glowed bright and yellow.
"You have come," he purred in a voice as deep and mysterious as the jungle itself. "Good. I am glad Munkustrap has followers like yourselves. Tell him I am obliged to him and will repay this kindness." His huge body was cramped in the tiny cage, and Misto wondered who in their right mind would try to capture such a magnificent beast.
Misto smiled at the Rumpus Cat and rubbed his paws together. "Hold on, I'll have you out before you can say..."
"Look out!" Tugger yelled, careening around the corner. He was followed by the man in the white coat, who was cursing loudly and sporting a bright red scratch down the side of his face. The man skidded past the cats, trying to stop but not able to in time.
"Where did you come from? Never mind, just stay put and I'll deal with you later!" the man yelled at them over his shoulder, resuming the chase after Tugger.
"Stay put? Yeah right! Hurry, Misto!" Vicki urged.
Mistoffelees raised his paws above his head and muttered a quick prayer. "Hope this works," he said to Victoria. A bright light enveloped the cage, and when it dissipated the Rumpus Cat was sitting outside rather than inside his cramped cell. When he had room to stretch, he was even larger than Misto had first thought.
"Thank you," he said. "When your friend comes back around, I'll let you out."
They didn't have to wait long. The sound of Tugger's yowling came around the corner like the sound of a fast-approaching freight train, and he galloped into view and headfirst into Misto. The guard followed close behind but stopped when he saw Rumpus Cat.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "How'd you get out?"
Rumpus Cat flattened his ears against his head and growled menacingly. The man backed up slowly, bumping into a desk that stood in the front of the hallway. "Nice kitty," he whispered. "Good kitty." The pantherlike beast moved around the desk and to the door, still growling. The other cats joined in by hissing and followed the Rumpus Cat to the door. The Pollicles began to bark in their cages, and the man leapt onto the desk and stood there, afraid to get down. Chuckling, Rumpus Cat pushed open the door and exited along with his new friends.
"Gee, thanks, cat, you really saved... my... tail..." Tugger trailed off and then looked around, confused. "Where'd he go?"
"Home, I guess. Wherever that is for him. We should do the same now," Victoria said with a yawn. "Mission accomplished. Good job, guys."
"But we don't have any proof that we found him! No one'll ever believe us!" Tugger protested.
"Come on, Tugger. Give it a rest. Let's get as far away from here as possible," Misto said.
"By the way, Tugger, what happened to that guy's face?" Victoria asked curiously.
"He had cold hands," Tugger remarked with a scowl. Misto covered his mouth with both paws to keep from laughing.
"Well, that was some adventure," he said. "Where to next?"
"Paris!" Vicki exclaimed.
"Venice!" Misto laughed.
"Home!" Tugger groaned, and the sound of their laughter reached the junkyard long before they did, carried by the wind.
"I'm glad to see you're back," Munkustrap said, barely concealing his surprise. "I had word that you succeeded, but didn't expect you home so soon."
Victoria swelled with pride. "Well," she said. "Any time you need us, we'll be around."
"Come on, Vickie," Misto said, yawning and leaning on her shoulder wearily. "It's late. I'm tired."
Victoria said good night to Munkustrap and helped Misto to the cardboard box. He stretched out immediately on its floor, and she curled up next to him. "Vickie," he said after a while.
"Hmmm?"
"Do you think Rumpus Cat made it home all right?" "Mmm hmm."
"Where do you think he lives?" She said nothing. "Vickie?" She exhaled a purr into his ear and went limp against his body. He sighed. "Good night, Vickie."
The Rumpus Cat stalked along the grass to the base of the big tree in the park. He leaped gracefully up its trunk and into its branches, where he stretched out placidly and watched the twinkling of the stars in the black sky. His thoughts were of the jungle which was alien to him but which coursed through his veins and his soul, his very lifeblood. He began to purr contentedly, and found sleep among the stars above the city.