Gus Part One

Gus - Part One

Asparagus was young and in his prime. Appearance-wise he was everything a queen could want in a tom. He was tall--taller than average--with a thick, solid frame and a shiny coat of chocolate-brown fur. Brawny muscles covered his broad torso, giving him the desirable "washboard" middle and powerful shoulders. All this, of course, was not the reason his name was known throughout every theatre ever built.

"What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word

As I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee..."

A wooden short sword cut the dark, dank air of the abandoned theatre as Gus twirled nimbly on his paws, parrying and feinting with his imaginary foe. The dusty wooden planks of the stage beneath his feet were as familiar to him as his mother's scent. He knew every crevice, bump, and crack of that stage, and with that knowledge came a confidence that radiated in his reckless grin. This was his home, and to him it was a living, breathing thing that guided his movements and voice in each performance. He loved it.

"Have at thee, coward!"

"No, no, no!"

Gus's mood, built up by an uninterrupted rehearsal, shattered like a millpond as the voice of another broke Gus's concentration. Sagging in defeat, the tom let his wooden sword drop to his side and gazed in annoyance at the stark black cat standing amid the dry-rotting seats of the house. Delevar was once an actor like Gus. Many were the performances when they'd read script together, dodged the feet of humans in their "nonspeaking" roles, until Delevar took the road less traveled and started a family. Gus continued his performing...his life. That is, until recently.

"Gus," Delevar's deep golden eyes rolled up to the ceiling in exasperation. "Comedy, Gus! Comedy! This is Growltiger, not Tybalt."

"C'mon, Del," Gus scratched his cheek with the dull swordtip. "Who wants comedy? People these days love drama! Sword fighting, suicide, love..." He straightened into a regal pose, the sword crossed over his chest. "I could play him."

Delevar sighed, shuffling the stack of papers in his possession, mumbling to himself something about the King of Cats. "You could play anyone...and I'll tell you who wants comedy: that feller you talk about so much. Deuteronomy, I think."

"You didn't tell me he was coming," Gus said after a pause.

"You're the Jellicle, not me. I thought you'd know."

Gus tossed his sword away, smoothing back his long whiskers. "Comedy it is, then!"

"Right," Delevar straightened, tossing down his documents. "Let's take a break and go over the script. There's something hid in the costume room y'might like."

"Collie?"

"No," the black tom laughed. He pranced onto the stage and handed Gus his treasured scarf, a gift from Queen Victoria herself in commemoration of his magnificent show-stopping performance of Firefrorefiddle. Though Delevar was smaller in stamina and height than Gus, both toms shared a mutual respect and deep friendship. "But you'll like it."

In a flourish Gus held up his worn scarf and tossed it around his neck, tying it loosely. "Then let's off, shall we?"

"C'mon," Delevar gave his friend a hearty slap on the back. "Gin's on me."

"...and my raffish crew were sleeping in their barrels and their bunks..."

Delevar cringed. "Are you going to do it like that?"

"I thought it was good."

"You've done better. C'mon, try again. And sing."

Gus cleared his throat. "And my raffish crew were sleeping, in thar barrels and thar bunks..."

The black cat nodded. "That's better. Do it that way." He poured a refill of gin from a weathered beaker into two dented tin thimbles for him and Gus to sip at. "Now, at this entrance right here," he pointed a claw to the papers he had dug up from the depths of the crowded costume storage in the back of the theatre, where the two cats now sat discussing their script and drinking their gin. "I think instead of downstage left you should come in--"

"I think Cockalorum should be in the show."

Delevar sipped at his drink, eyeing Gus dubiously over the dented rim at being interrupted. But he was patient. "Can she sing?"

Gus pressed his paws together, a knowing grin spreading under his whiskers. "Like a music box."

Delevar poured another serving of gin into the tin cup set before Asparagus. "I dunno, Gus. Does she have any experience?"

"Well...yeah." The brown tom hid his faltered expression behind his cup. "Gypsy work." After working on his poker face, he lowered it. "She's got the sharpest wits you'll ever see on a bird, Del. She can learn theatre. I'll teach her myself."

"This Cockalorum wouldn't be the same "Collie" you plan on mating in a week or so, would it?"

Only the greatest of actors could have kept a convincing smile under that question. "Yes, it would."

"What's she look like?"

"Like a spring rose in full bloom, deep scarlet red as wine. So bright is her face, she doth teach the torches to burn--"

"Drop the poetry, Gus. What's she look like?"

"She looks right enough for the part. And she can sing."

"Well, I'll hafta hear her first."

"You won't be disappointed, Del. I'll stake my oath on it."

"With that confidence," the black cat laughed, "how could I doubt? I trust yer judgement, Gus." He glanced across at the door, watching the human shadows beneath the edge of light. "We need another queen. I haven't found anyone yet who'd fit Griddlebone well enou--er..."

His gruff voice was silenced as the very female of conversation swept into the costume storage through the cloth flap used only by the cats, padding up behind Gus. Cockalorum swung around his neck, coming to a graceful seat in Gus's lap. She nuzzled him affectionately. Her usual dramatic entrance. "Hello, love," she purred, pawing the scarlet-brown tassels of Gus's scarf. Gus slipped a burly arm over her slim shoulders and pulled her close, nuzzling her back.

"We were just talking about you," he laughed. He looked across at Delevar. A wink passed between them. "Delevar thinks you should be cast in the next show."

Cockalorum looked at the other cat...and laughed. "Oh, please! Gus, I'm not an actor like you. I'd step out on that stage and forget what to do."

"We can work over that," Gus insisted, tweaking her nose. "You have a voice, Collie. You shouldn't let it go to waste. You'd be perfect for Griddlebone."

Cockalorum and Gus together were an ideal couple. One beautiful, one handsome. Cockalorum was as ideal a queen as Gus was a tom. Her fur was a soft creamy beige, with ginger-brown and yellow markings covering her slender form. Lovely scarlet tinges shimmered throughout her fur, delicately dancing wild patterns. Her paws, tail tip, and muzzle were the purest white, and her eyes a shining green. She was smart, beautiful, and Gus loved her. It had been some time ago when they'd first met. Delevar and Gus knew of the gypsy band that wandered city to city and throughout the country, buying, selling, trading, stealing whatever they could to make a living. They prided themselves on their exotic performances, and with these boasts the two young actors never missed the chance to meet the group as they set up camp, snapping and exchanging insults of the dances or the cats themselves. "Those gypsies couldn't dance their way off a sidewalk," Gus remembered saying. Cockalorum had been one such gypsy who proved him wrong. Her dance, her song, her image as she pranced elegantly among the bright-colored banners and flags captured Gus's mind and heart that very moment, and after a week of frequent meetings and confessions, Cockalorum stayed behind as the gypsy troupe moved on. What was more than their beginning infatuation: she loved him back.

"How big's the role?" she asked.

"The prima donna," Gus admitted with full pride. "Extremely important. It calls for great vocals."

A crafty smile covered her face, and coyly the beauty tapped a claw against the thick fur of Gus's chest. "You know, Kitequilt's been talking about performing for a long time..." She met Gus's gaze, purring sweetly. "Would there be a part for him?"

"Kitequilt," Gus scoffed, setting down his gin cup with a thump. "That pip-squeak! A kitten with that much energy couldn't stay still on a stage, let alone act." He nodded to Delevar. "No matter how many times I tell him, he insists on wishing everyone good luck backstage."

"Aye," Delevar rolled his eyes. "And Superstitious `Sparagus would blame that kitten for the sandbag that crashed two nights ago?"

The actor nodded, thumbing his nose. "I'd bet my whiskers."

"You forget, Gus," the female third of the group interrupted, "that if it weren't for my brother we never would have met."

True, it had been Kitequilt's insolent remarks that led Gus chasing him through the crowd only to stop when he saw Cockalorum, and Kitequilt dash to the safety of her watch.

"Well, couldn't have that, could we?" Despite the obvious disgust from Delevar, the two lovers made a show of an affectionate nuzzling. He set his cup down and popped the cork back into the bottle of gin...and waited.

"If you're quite done...?"

Cockalorum and Gus looked at him, then at each other, and laughed. She slipped from his lap and stood, stretching her lithe limbs and guiding Gus up after her. "C'mon. Let's get out of this stuffy old theatre. It's such a nice night." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, purring just loud enough for him to hear. "Besides, do we really have to wait to declare ourselves real mates?"

Gus grinned, tossing back the loose flap of his scarf. "Indeed not, milady. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, Del. Keep that gin cold."

Only an hour later found the two cats strolling leisurely side by side, enjoying the hot scent of steaming hotdogs and baking pretzels that covered the sidewalk vendors of a busy main street. Gus and Cockalorum eyed a rotating bar of sausages hungrily, licking their chops.

"Hungry?" she eyed him knowingly.

"Always," Gus returned. "I'll draw the vendor, you get the meat."

Cockalorum giggled kittenishly, unable to hold it in at the sight of Gus bounded off as energetic as a kitten to pull off one of his old tricks. Rubbing first insistently at the vendor's ankles, he withstood the vile comments and kicks long enough for Cockalorum to slip in and lift two links of warm hotdogs and dash to the safety of a nearby alley. A cat with her wits knew better than to stand in open view with good food. The alley was dark, lined with trash and shadows, providing perfect cover for her to stash the hotdogs, then watch the passing crowd eagerly for signs of her mate. Surely he would have no trouble following her scent. She crept forward, eyes scanning the passerby's keenly.

Cockalorum froze in her tracks, breath stolen by a face among the crowd which was a mere glimpse. Did she even really see it? The thought of that face and the memories that accompanied it sent a shiver down her spine, casting a dark shadow over her features. No, it couldn't have been...

"Collie?" Cockalorum jumped to life when Gus touched her shoulder gently. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," she said, adorning her shining smile. "Just a random thought." She grinned, playfully swatting him. "Now how about those hotdogs?"

The next day full rehearsals for "Growltiger's Last Stand" commenced. Wrapped in each other's arms, Gus and Cockalorum needed little acting ability to really portray their Growltiger and Griddlebone. Lovers playing lovers. Their voices, rising in one melodious hymn, rang out straight from the gates of Heaviside. The birds outside the theatre halted their twitter to listen.

"Oscillaire in silenzio, nel vento perfumato..."

The cats sitting in the house, extras, the four playing the crew, Delevar, draped themselves over seat backs and across each other, listening with a strange dreaminess to the lovely opera.

"In quella tepida notteeeeeeeee!"

They finished in such flourish, Gus leaning Cockalorum over with her slim paws thrust upward in jubilation. Silence fell, and the cats erupted in applause. Delevar leaped onto the stage, padding to them and trying not to wipe his eyes.

"Gus...Collie...you do that performance night an' I don't care if it ain't funny. Yer gonna leave those queens cryin'."

"Firefrorefiddle all over again, eh?" Gus smiled, casually throwing an arm over Cockalorum's shoulders with a smug grin.

"Mebbe."

Gus laughed. "Say, Collie, where's that brother of yours?" He nuzzled Cockalorum gently, and with a giggle she spun from his grasp.

"Oh, probably still at home sleeping. Poor kit wore himself out last night reading the script. I didn't have the heart to wake him."

Gus's disapproval was clear. "Kittens these days...too lazy."

She pulled the red bandanna of his Growltiger costume down over his eyes, pushing him back playfully. "You leave him alone. He's doing it to impress you." She untied the fluffy white tail that dragged behind her and removed the clumps of fake white Griddlebone fur from her arms and mane. "I'll go get him. We've got about an hour of rehearsal left."

"Alright Collie," Gus picked the last few tufts from her back. "We'll rehearse the swordfight. But don't be gone long. You know I can't stand being apart from you!"

"Flatterer!" she called back as the female stepped out into the sunlight.

Gus watched her go, and when she disappeared from sight let his shoulders sag. He removed the bandanna and wiped his forehead wearily. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Listen," Delevar said as he and Gus moved across to the stage left. "We've all been workin' hard. How about we all take a five? The kittens sure could use it..." He gestured at the extras scattered throughout the house. "An' that's not mentionin' you."

"Fine," Gus consented reluctantly. He removed the enormous belt and sword from his waist that completed most of his costume and was pondering the choice of going back to the closet for the rest of the gin when he noticed Delevar making his own leave. "Where are you going?"

"Gonna run home," the black tom stated matter-of-factly. "You know my mate's due any day now."

"Silly me. Go on, then."

Cockalorum and Kitequilt shared a small flat with a family of humans that was obviously close to where Gus kept his own bed. Not shabby, not rich...but comfortable enough to reside in. The sky was growing overcast as she approached the alley leading to her home, and her gypsy-trained senses told her it would rain either tonight or tomorrow. The sun had already been making its descent, leaving the area much darker than usual. Perfect cover for anyone stalking a lone female.

"Collie..."

Cockalorum froze. Whirling, her needle fangs bared on instinct, she stared into the deep shadows for the source of the deep voice. Her tail lashed fitfully as she searched. "Who's there?"

"Why, Collie, I thought you'd be happy to see me." From behind a stacked crate of garbage the tom appeared. Cockalorum gasped.

An enormous tom with the burly limbs of a cat of action, scarred from battle, teeth yellow and snaggled, with a coat of fiery red and white covered in bold black stripes. The glint in his eyes was that of treacherous recognition, and Cockalorum knew it. "Thazar!" she gasped.

The tom smiled, showing the chipped, yellowed tips of his fangs. "Cockalorum, it's good to see you again."

"Thazar," she could only gasp in bewilderment. Immediately she staggered backwards, eyes wide in horror. "Thazar!"

The enormous muscled tom frowned. "Now, c'mon, Collie. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Cockalorum searched her mind for words as the male drew nearer, but despite her extensive wits none could be found. Thazar laughed.

"Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Y-y-yes...I mean, no...I mean...I..."

"I understand, dear," Thazar took her paw and nodded solemnly. "Quite a shock, me suddenly showing up like this."

"I...I don't..."

"It's alright, dear. Quit stuttering with that blank face. It makes you look very ugly."

With a shake of her head, Cockalorum gathered her wits and torn pride. She took a breath and released it, smoothing her chest fur indignantly. "Oh, Thazar, I'm sorry. What are you doing here?"

"I was coming by the city, so I thought I'd drop by and see my favorite queen."

"But how did you...?"

"Word travels fast among gypsies, dear." His grin was undying. "How is Gus?"

Her glare at him turned accusing. "I don't see how you could know about that...but he's fine."

Thazar laughed. "And, more importantly, how are you?"

"The same," she huffed, growing more suspicious by the moment. "What are you doing here?"

"You haven't changed a bit, Collie. There's never any fooling you." He chuckled deep in his throat, drawing from her an angry glare. "Alright...I'm here to do business with that friend of your Gus...Delevar."

Pause. "So?"

"So...I was hoping you could tell me where I could find him. It'll save me some searching."

Cockalorum was honestly puzzled. "Near the docks," she said uncertainly. "He and his family have always lived there."

"Thanks, Collie. I have to go, but I promise you I'll stop by the theatre tomorrow." Planting a slight nuzzle against Cockalorum's cheek, he was gone without a sound.

Cockalorum remained planted where she was, mind still muddled at the appearance. Considering who the tom was, she decided it better not to tell Gus. He didn't need to know. Slowly she picked up her suddenly heavy paws and shakily kept on going to her human's home. Was that his face she saw last night in the crowd? Could it really have been? No...no, it couldn't be. The thought was banished from her mind, and she set her mind on finding her brother.

Thazar was true to his word. In the midst of next day's rehearsals he appeared quietly in the theatre, stalking up through the aisle of seats until he stood easily by the front row. Cockalorum saw him as she spun on her cue, saying her sweet line as Griddlebone. "Growltiger had no eye or ear for--oomph!" Her eyes landed directly on Thazar as she turned, her voice immediately freezing, her limbs locking in place, and she tripped over the long white tail tied around her waist.

"Collie!" Gus immediately broke character and rushed to her side, pushing through the four staring cats who were assigned parts as the crew. "Are you alright?" Grabbing her white paws, he lifted her up.

"Fine, fine," she said, casting nervous glances at Thazar as he mounted the stage and approached them. She turned her face away from his dead golden eyes.

"Are you sure, dear?" Thazar purred. "That was quite a fall."

Gus's eyes flashed at the other tom dangerously, his protective instinct aroused at his mate-to-be being called "dear" by another male. Pushing back the eyepatch he wore as Growltiger, he stepped forward between Cockalorum and Thazar. "Who are you?"

"Thazar," the scarred ugly tom answered. "And I know you, Asparagus. Never was there a better actor."

"Thanks," the acting tom returned, not quite sure of whether to treat this tom civilly or not. Cockalorum intervened immediately.

"Oh, yes. Gus, dear, this is Thazar, an old friend of mine." She met Thazar's eyes momentarily, then quickly turned back to Gus's. "He said he was here to see your friend Delevar."

"Del?" Gus raised a brow. "He hasn't been here all day. Did you find him?"

"No," the red male answered. "I checked his home last night. He wasn't there."

"He'll show up, I'm sure," Cockalorum whispered.

"Of course." Gus couldn't help but notice her insecurity, and slipped an arm over her shoulders to draw her close. "So Thazar, what brings you here?"

"I heard the news that Cockalorum was going to be mated, and to one of the most famous felines ever to walk a stage. How could I not resist a wish of my blessing to you both?"

It seemed a logical enough explanation, but Gus was unconvinced. "Thanks very much, sir," he said merrily, using the actor's ability to put on a show of merriment. "But as you can see we're in the middle of rehearsals, and first performance is tomorrow night after which Collie and I are going to formally declare our mating, so if you wouldn't mind...?"

"Of course," Thazar returned, smiling equally as pleasant. "I'll be seeing you opening night."

And he left.