Authors Note: First off, anything written in * * is a character's thought. The main characters name, Meratomene, comes from the Greek muses of tragedy and love poetry. The title was taken directly from one of T.S. Eliot's poems. "A Dedication to My Wife". The context used was:
"No peevish winter wind shall chill
No sullen tropic sun shall wither
The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only."
With that said- On to the Fic!
Meratomene’s Flight
The cold wind swirled around Meratomene, tearing at her mangy coat and whipping snow into her face. Her eyes stung with bitter tears that turned to salty ice before they ever left the dark orbs. Every step left a painful reminder of her flight in the form of a bloody paw print. Several layers of tough skin had already been torn away from her pads by the icy streets. She shivered uncontrollably as another gust of freezing rain hit her square on, causing a cough to rattle through her half-starved body.
Meratomene moved carefully from the sidewalk onto the street. Her steps took her dangerously close to the still liquid water of the gutter. A faulty step caused her to stagger forward, her left forepaw springing out into the damp gutter to break her fall. A light spray of water stung against her, freezing instantly to the side of her face. The same fate as her forepaw, gray fur matting with solid water.
The seemingly endless search finally found her a place to sleep in an old useless stove. The missing door aloud her access, but still left three walls to block out the wind and sleet. With only a moments hesitation Meratomene collapsed on the grated metal shelf and fell into a fretful slumber.
After several insubstantial hours of sleep Meratomene awoke, still unrested, and attempted to sit up. The metal grates had stuck painfully to her damp fur, tearing out her whiskers as she pried herself up. The surrounding area of her face was breached with frost bite as was her previously drenched leg. Stumbling out of the stove she found the extent of her injuries to be worse then first imagined. Her left eye was frozen shut and stubs from her whiskers and the torn patches of fur had made a bloody mess of her face. After several attempts to walk she realized that without her whiskers her senses were astray and she could hardly keep herself from crashing into the alley walls. Staggering from the alley Mera made her way slowly through the city streets, not sure where she was going. Her left foreleg became progressively numb as she walked and soon she found it only to be a dead weight. Several humans were about on the street, though most did not cast so much as a glance to the half frozen feline. A child paid attention, though his means were to tie a string of tin cans to her tail. The cans clinked as she walked, almost mockingly as they held the sounds of her uneven gait.
After what seemed like days, but was probably only hours, Meratomene saw a sort of haven in the distance. She had, without meaning to, dragged herself into the town junkyard. *Surely’ she thought ‘there’ll be a place fer me to find food an’ hide ‘til the snow stops.*.
A Surprise Guest
In the center of the junkyard Meratomene saw what seemed to be a large gathering of cats. They were all laughing and dancing around a huge fire, to music that no human ears could ever hear. *A fire...* she found herself thinking *Where there’s a fire there’s heat!* Before she thought out her actions, Meratomene raced toward the fire as fast as her three good legs would carry her. The moment she staggered into the clearing the laughing and music stopped. All the cats turned to look at the intruder, startled by the ghastly appearance of the bedraggled cat. The sudden silence in the clearing tore her mind from the fire. *Oh no! I didn’t want anyone to see me!* The other cats had begun to circle around her and there was no chance of escape. In a last resort Mera threw herself at a group of kittens, hoping the youngsters would move out of fear, allowing her to get away. The kittens stood fast and as her body hit theirs she found the darkness.
When Meratomene awoke she found herself to be warm all over. At first she thought that she must be dead, but after noting the ‘run over by a Mack truck’ feeling Mera knew that she was very much alive. Her attempt to open her eyes found her right eye fine, and her left eye cut from the ice, but able to open enough to see. Looking around Meratomene saw that she was in the middle of a huge pile of cats. It was obvious that they slept all huddled together for warmth, and that she was put in the center so that she could not leave undetected. Drat!* she thought bitterly, *I didn’t want to attract any attention, an’ now I’m stuck! With a frown she struggled to her feet, only to find a Gumbie-looking female watching her with a look of pity. Thankfully someone had untied the tin cans from her tail, but Mera became increasingly self conscious when she realized how horrible she must look. Hefting her left foreleg to a more normal seeming position Mera set to grooming her impossibly tangled fur.
“We can help you know.” The Gumbie cat’s voice was surprisingly gentle and kind, there was no trace of sarcasm or bitterness in it at all.
“I d-don’t need yer help. I’m f-f-fine.” While digging her claws into the ground Meratomene silently cursed her stutter.
The Gumbie shrugged, the muscles in her shoulders rippling through her fur. “If you say so, but if you need anything just ask me. I’m Jennyanydots.”
Nodding slightly she plainly said “Meratomene.”
“Well Meratomene, the others will be awake soon and will be expecting to hear your story...” Jennyanydot’s voice trailed off, though Meratomene wasn’t sure if that was because her words were meant as a warning or not.
Tribal Issues
Just as the Gumbie cat said it was only a matter of minutes before the other cats began to wake up. Upon awakening the kittens were all herded to the outskirts of the circle and away from Meratomene. The adult members tightened the circle around her and stood silent for an endless moment before a gray cat with dark strips stepped forward.
“You came at a crucial time for us. Did you come for a reason, or was it purely coincidental?” The gray’s question was strait forward, though his voice was anything but cruel.
“I d-didn’t mean to come h-here. I jus’ saw t-the f-f-fire...”
The gray nodded before continuing, “What do they call you?”
She paused for a moment, not sure what to say. “My n-name is Meratomene. The family I l-lived with called me Nzambi.”
“Called?” The gray cat’s voice prominently displayed that he wanted her to elaborate.
Sighing softly she launched into her story. “I was a house c-cat from Wellington. T-the family I lived with was m-m-movin’ to a new house an’ didn’t want me no more. So I got t-the ol’ bag in the r-river trip. I g-got loose, lucky I g-guess...”
As Meratomene talked her dark eyes looked over each member of the Tribe. The kittens already looked sorry for her, but they would obviously feel sorry for anyone with a sob story. The older cats seemed to vary in opinion. Two sassy looking females watched her threw slanted eyes, while a proper seeming tiger-cat had his head down sadly.
“S-so I t-took to the street. Been out t-there fer quite a time now. An’ that’s my s-story. That’s it, n-nothin’ more.”
The gray seemed to posses no decision either way, but Jennyanydots, the tiger-cat, and several older females looked sympathetic. The two sassy cats along with a well-endowed haughty cat and a shiny-seeming black looked less then impressed. After a moments thought the gray turned to several of the other adults and began to confer.
The gray turned back towards Meratomene, “Since you are here and seem to have no where else to go we, the Jellicle Tribe, have decided to allow you to stay.
Allow me? Allow me? A series of anger filled thoughts raced through her mind before she repressed them.
“I am Munkustap,” the gray continued “you seem to have inadvertently came here as we are preparing for the annual Jellicle Ball. It is less then two weeks from now and you are welcome to participate.” With that the gray turned away and became involved in a seemingly more important conversation.
Seeking Help. (several days later)
“You really ought to see a vet about that.” Demeter spoke up, her voice laced with worry.
“I agree with Dem,” Bombalurina said, “it doesn’t look too good.”
Meratomene managed a slight smile. “It’s f-fine.” Although the two cats has not become her closest friends she wondered how she could ever have thought them to be ill-bred.
“I know a vet in the next town tha’ll take care ‘f tha’ leg if ya want, Mera.”
She smiled warmly at Skimbleshanks, but shook her head. “I really d-don’t think I need t-to see a vet.”
Meratomene walked away from them, her foreleg hanging at an odd angle. She managed to keep a proud demeanor until she tripped and could not catch herself. “Ooof!” The pearl wearing cat, was it Rumpleteazer, and her male counterpart laughed and pointed at her. Damn them she thought, Why do they always have to make fun of everything?!
After picking herself up she limped into an empty pipe, trying to avoid the shiny black’s glare. *Why doesn’t he like me? None of the others are openly mean to me except him. I don’t even know who he is.*
Pouncival and Tumblebrutus were playing by the pipe and scampered over to Meratomene as she laid down. “Wha’cha doin’ Mera?” Pouncivle’s happy question was quickly followed by Tumblebrutus leaping from the top of the pipe and tackling his friend. She couldn’t help but laugh at the kittens, they were so young and energetic. She also couldn’t help but envy them, Who wouldn’t want four good legs and a chance to run and play...? Watching the kittens brought her to a decision- she would go and see the vet. Perhaps she would feel better after her leg was fixed, and maybe, just maybe, they could do something about her face where the frost bite had torn the fur away.