Exotica

You may know me as Exotica. Most others do. But I am not a cat. Living among the Jellicle Tribe in silent shadow, I seem outwardly to be a normal queen. But if you look into my eyes, you'll see time stretching beyond the limits of human imagination. In my satin black fur is the dust of centuries. In my claws are the know-how of the ultimate feline. I am immortal. I am Bastet, the Everlasting Cat.

My fall from divinity has been one I have seen before, and should have expected. It is the change that comes from technology, when mortals stop believing in their gods and goddesses.

Once I was powerful: the cat-headed goddess of what humans called Egypt, but to my kind, the cats, it is the Sacred Land. I was worshipped, loved, respected by humans as were my people: the felines of Egypt. I was honored at annual feasts. I flew the sky with Isis. I guarded the dead with Anubis. But our reign was short, ended by Christian, Muslem, and Catholic beliefs that killed the Egyptian Gods as it killed the Olympians of Rome and Greece. As it killed Odin and Loki among the Vikings. The reign of gods was overtaken by this single belief in the Almighty Jahova and his son Jesus, our Egyptians calling for Ali instead of Osiris.

And I would have died with them, because my people stopped believing in me. Thus I grew weak, unable to answer their desperate cries as my cats were slaughtered by the hundreds throughout Europe, accusing of associating with witches. For years I suffered this way, teetering on the brink of oblivion, aching in hunger for the sound of sweet voices singing my praises, believing in me, giving me life and power. The odd human may have still offered small statues of me image burnt offerings and incense, but it was not enough. I needed to be praised, loved, and I grew continually weaker.

There is a choice all immortals can make in times of such crisis. That is to possess the body of a mortal and spend years within it resting, encouraging the mortals around you to take up the baton and believe again. But in taking this choice of survival there is a price. Inhabiting a mortal's body means there is the risk of exposure to mortal weaknesses: temptation, fear, sorrow, pain. But I had no other choice.

There was nothing extraordinary about the cat I chose. A young female plagued with disease, she was weak and would have died had I not leased her body. My will alone drove the disease away and kept us both alive. And so I became Exotica.

Right away I saw my people for what they had become in the world: spiteful, vain, mistrusting, but most of all they were viscous. They killed each other over things such as scraps of meat, mating freely without thought, taking the lives of other creatures without reason. Throughout Egypt my chosen people were reduced to the mindless animals humans always viewed them to be. I could not stay there, and fled, searching the distant countries for the decent few remaining. I found few, if any, who still had that spark of magnificence that distinguished the feline race.

But there was one cat who shone above the rest. A tom who felt such devotion to me I saw his dreams of kneeling before my temple, vowing he would start a family, a tribe, gathering cats of all names and nations to praise me once again. The tribe of cats were to be called Jellicles, and his name was Deuteronomy.

I appeared in his dreams one night and asked if his intentions were true. I peeked into his soul, weighing his fervent words of assurance against the truth in him. I was astounded to see there was no deception under the thick gray-brown fur coat he possessed, and here I felt a strain of mortal weakness...

I fell in love with him.

Alongside Deuteronomy was how I now traveled the world, searching alleys and forests for cats who would join us. Most of them that followed us were orphaned kittens looking for something to believe, and found it in Deuteronomy's soothing words. Others were adults I visited in dreams. They followed and trusted us as we finally settled in the aspiring London, deep within a junkyard far from human influence. It was here that I bore Deuteronomy's first litter.

They grew up all possessing the fiery rambunctiousness of youthful immortals, though gods they were not, and by their adult ages had spread out over the world. The most notable of these cats were Griddlebone, Kahn, and Macavity. I cannot say I felt any bond with my children. Griddlebone was flirtatious and very beautiful, but the restlessness in her took her to travel with a pirate tom of ill fame. Kahn was constantly brawling, the biggest and bravest of the litter with fur as black as mine and Deuteronomy's build. He stayed in the vacinity of London, and I would later learn that his deeds would build his image into one of the most famous cats to ever live...The Great Rumpus Cat. But Macavity was a mystery to even me, and I realized why. He alone in the litter had inherited my power, including immortality. I hadn't expected such a thing to happen, and I would have prevented it had I known. For no cat of even half-blood can bear the strain of eternal life. That combined with the divine power in a body of flesh drove him insane. It took all my power to protect Deuteronomy from him. Out of my children, only Kahn remained true to our task.

But what plagued me more than the dying legacy was Deuteronomy. While he aged, I remained young, looking not a day over three years. Together we watched old age and fighting habits claim our Kahn, Griddlebone vanishing without a trace, and Macavity steadily consumed by his insanity, locked in eternal youth. I watched as Deuteronomy grew old and frail, unable to keep up with the changing times. The concept of death was alien to me even in this mortal body, and now as I watched Deuteronomy dying I knew the full extent of mortal weaknesses: pity, loneliness, longing. Laying with Deuteronomy one night I asked him if I could extend his life and remain at my side. In a haze of painful tears I confessed that I did not want to go on without him. He agreed, saying he would last out forever if it would make me happy.

I did not curse Deuteronomy to immortality. I could not put that burden on one I cherished so. Rather, I blessed him with nine full lives. It was a gift not seen in mortal cats for centuries. He will live out a lifetime, die, and rise again to live another eight times. But our happiness at this generous lifespan had its price. It drained my power drastically, and even if I could have born children again it would not have been a wise thing to do. Too many more would turn out as Macavity did, and now more than ever I needed the belief of cats to grow strong again. In a long contemplative rest I realized that I had been sidetracked from my purpose by pleasures and weaknesses of the flesh. It could not go on like this. Deuteronomy and I both knew what must be done.

Over his extended lifetime Deuteronomy took many mates, outliving them all, and in their combined mortal blood the kitten offspring were beautiful and healthy. He raised them as any dutiful father would, loving them, teaching them the songs and dances that would turn their energy towards me. He made them believe.

And not only his own offspring but several other cats heard of this Jellicle Tribe and came to seek peace among us. They included Skimbleshanks, Jennyanydots, Bombalurina, Asparagus and his daughter, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer who repented their actions with Macavity, and a grown tom called Alonzo, whose blood ran hot with traces of Kahn's. I smiled upon these cats and Deuteronomy's descendants: the Rum Tum Tugger, the dutiful Munkustrap, Victoria, Pouncival, little Sillabub who is closer to me than many realize, and countless others. They are continuously plagued by Macavity's jealousy, but not as often as could be done. I made certain to that.

And what happened to me?

I frequent the Junkyard of the Jellicles whenever I am able, watching my love and his family live their lives in happiness. On the occasion I may reveal myself, but none recognize me. Deuteronomy smiles at me as he does all his loved ones, but behind his eyes I still see the bond that holds us together. Not even his dear Grizabella held that intimacy. And yet the Jellicles think nothing of Exotica, calling her crazy when in fact it is me they worship. But it does not matter. I can feel my power beating, growing stronger each time a Jellicle lifts its voice to praise the Everlasting Cat. One day I will return to my spiritual self and sit on the throne of Heaviside again, watching my people, waiting for the day Deuteronomy will join me. But for now, I am tired from the night's dancing, and want nothing more than to sleep.

THE END