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Summary: Hey, anyone else think this is Victoria speaking?
Authors note: Just a quickie, kind of a companion to ‘the hiring fair’ (even though it has a totally different storyline and is not based on a song).
If I listen carefully enough to the wind, I can just about hear the raucous of the junkyard in the distance. It’s funny, I am far away, yet the sounds of the traffic and the people distort, but do not delete the sounds of home. It is the day after. Another year it has gone by, and I am older than when I first made this trip outside the confines and familiarity of the Junkyard. I know where I am going, as a rule no one would stray this far outside our territory and certainly not without company. But this is a trip I will have to take alone, rights come only with responsibilities, my father taught me that.
Father. I wonder how long it will be before I am making this trip for him, when the chain of command moves up and my brother assumes his place. Somehow I find ‘Old Munkustrap’ a hard concept to imagine, I get the feeling he will not be as....prolific as my father. He is more settled, he has a life mate, a future.
Yet I also know he may well outlive her, outlive all of us. He knows things, things our father taught him, that will change his destiny, decide his rights and his responsibilities. I know things too, things my father taught me and that I shall teach one of my children, if she is born as I have been.
The sun peeks through the trees, a single ray illuminates the ground before the thick canopy once again catches and shatters it. I am getting closer, I feel the pull of it as I head towards my goal. My mind drifts back to the first time I made this journey, a short year ago. I was younger then, more skittish and nervous, not knowing what to expect, yet I had heard so much about it that I felt I almost knew it already. I cannot believe now how childish I was, still obsessing over Tugger, still too young to understand the full effects of my actions. I was innocent, that innocence helped me to do my job. I have grown, I know more and by extension, I trust less. It is hard to overcome, yet I know I must re-learn that innocence in order to carry out my duty.
Still, I think I am happier now. I am settled, I have a mate, although our partnership is still too new to have sprung any kittens. Besides, I am still young and so is he. . We both know what responsibility means, yet we also both know the power of youth. I think he wanted to come with me, although he didn’t quite know where I was going. But he has his own place in the hierarchy, his unique abilities assure him that. It is funny, I half expect him to leap from the trees, stand in front of me and snap his fingers, producing a flower for me and telling me he is mine, always. Sometimes, I feel he has become half of me.
I can see it now and a mixture of the anticipation and dew soaked grass makes me unable to resist the temptation to run the last few metres.
The gnarled wood stretches high above me, until the leafy canopy stretches to touch the sky. Around it lies the remnants of last years acorn harvest, those which had not been eaten by maggots, or buried and forgotten by squirrels. I have reached my goal. I find the point where names are scratched into the bark. Above me stands the handiwork of generations before me. The most recent entry is mine, the hand is more unsteady, still shaky with the last glimpses of my kittenhood. Comparison with my writing now will soon be easy. Gathering myself, I perform my duty. One razor sharp claw reaches out and I scratch into the ancient wood. ‘GUS’. I smile, he has joined the legend of those who have been sent. Above him is ‘GRIZABELLA’, before that names that mean little to me, but which record Jellicle history for longer than I can even fathom. This is our job, to reach out to them, to touch them and tell them that they are chosen, then to lay them here, recorded with the others.
I turn away, my duty done. The sun again breaks through the trees and reflects softly off the pure white surface of my fur. I can head back to the junkyard now and return to my business, as a Jellicle cat. ^ ^<I> <I> =T=
(Slightly spooky) Authors note: Ok, This was written really quickly during a severe insomnia bout. the weird thing is, that the next day at school, my Friend accurately describe the tree in this story as one she had been to, in the same spot in Hyde Park and complete with name scratching. I’m known for the occasional prophetic dream and for ‘finding’ things in my sleep., but prophetic stories are a new one on me!