“Aaand she would like to announce that she, like others in the past, namely Carina, has taken on a new name and would like you all to call her that from now on, but only if you feel like it, as she will also continue to answer to Kitten. The new name is . . . henceforth . . . or not—as she said, it is up to you—Kitten James Bob LaRue.” He sucked in a breath and paused dramatically. “The ‘James’ part is in honor of Jim the winged tortoise, and the ‘Bob’ part is because Bob is the best name, and because it is what I do in the water. The ‘LaRue’ part is because it is her mother’s name, and, um, also, secretly, it just happens to be Mr. Today’s nickname, which only those who knew him best would know, which would be her. And, ah, me, who is named Fox . . . Bob. LaRue. Which are also the names,” he added slowly, almost as if he were just thinking it, “for if you are a cat of some sort. Yes.” Fox smiled politely, and then with a nod prompted Kitten to continue.
Simber groaned. He listened to Kitten’s “Mewmewmew” and then put his paws over his ears.
“Yes, our dear Kitten had a mother, quite unlike all the rest of the statues. Her mother’s name was Glenda Morris Bob Cat LaRue, and she could play the pipe organ like an absolute dream.” Fox gazed over his audience’s heads for a moment as if he could hear the music. “You see, when Kitten was born, she was a real human kitten, but Mr. Today loved her so much that he decided to make her into a statue so she could live forever, which is what he does with all his favorite humans.”
Alex blinked. Lhasa wore a puzzled expression and turned to Talon. “That’s not at all what the kitten is saying,” Lhasa whispered, which Talon found highly entertaining. He hid his grin and they both turned back to hear more.
Fox leaned on his elbow in the sand and closed his eyes halfway for effect. “You see, Kitten’s mother lived a long, lonely life, until one day she got hit by a bus, which, according to Mr. Appleblossom, is something that you ride on, kind of like a cheetah. Only it wasn’t a cheetah, because a cheetah would never hit a cat, or hurt it in any way. Only dogs. Of which I am not one. Of.” Fox slid his eyes to the side to check on Simber. All appeared safe, so Fox nodded at Kitten once more. “Continue, cousin.”
Alex elbowed Simber, who uncovered his ears to hear Kitten’s next statement.
“Mewmewmew! Mewmewmew!” said Kitten.
Fox nodded intently at his friend, and then he rose on his haunches and put his front paws out toward his audience, setting the scene. “Imagine it, friends. A real, live human kitten loses her mother to a tragic bus accident. Left alone and in the wild, a kindly mage named Mr. Today . . . LaRue . . . takes her in, saving her from starvation and other things human cats have, like fleas and litter boxes and icky things like that. He transforms her sickly body into a statue—and not just any ordinary statue like that freak Ahab, or Florence here, but one of his top statues who actually get to play in the lounge band.” He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s a rags-to-riches story for one cool Kitten and her friend, coincidentally also a cat, named Fox—Fox LaRue—who is in no way a member of the Cananadada family, because those are what dogs are made of.”
Fox paused for effect, or to see if Kitten was going to mew again—no one was quite sure. “And that,” he said finally, bowing, “is the very true story of Kitten LaRue and how she saved the snow lion queen named Lhasa. Thank you, thank you all. Thank you very, very much.” Fox blew kisses to everyone but Simber.
Almost everyone clapped. Kitten beamed at Fox, clapping her paws together so that they made a tiny tink tink tink noise. She hopped on top of Fox’s head and settled down in his fur.
“But Fox didn’t explain how Kitten saved me,” whispered Lhasa.
Talon chuckled and applauded harder, clearly tickled by the Fox’s strange, senseless story. “Bravo, friend Fox,” he said. “You are a masterful storyteller and a very fine cat.” He turned to Alex. “That was most entertaining. Does Simber have a version to tell?”
Alex looked over at Simber and tapped his shoulder. “He’s done now. Your turn.”
Simber slid his paws off his ears and sat up, clearly trying to wipe the look of disgust from his face. “Verrry well,” he said. He bowed his head once, regally, in Kitten’s direction. “I shall hope to do this story the justice it deserrrves.”
Alex smiled. It wasn’t common for Simber to verbalize his respect for anyone, so he knew that Simber must really think highly of Kitten. He sat forward in anticipation so he could capture every word.
Simber began. “When Mrrr. Today was a boy, a little olderrr than Alex, he set out frrrom Warrrblerrr Island on a jourrrney with his sister to discoverrr a new island. They took few items with them. Likely some food and waterrr. A rope, perrrhaps, and some tools and textiles. As they pushed off frrrom the shorrre, theirrr motherrr called to them. ‘Stop!’ she said. ‘Take this, and rrrememberrr me.’ She tossed something to Marrrcus, and he caught it. It was a tiny white porrrcelain kitten, no biggerrr than a marrrshmallow.”
Fox looked at Simber like he was crazy.
Simber ignored Fox. “Yearrrs passed, and Marrrcus kept the kitten safe in his pocket, taking her out often and thinking of his motherrr. One day, afterrr he’d made otherrr crrreaturrres and statues come to life, he looked at the kitten and thought, ‘This kitten should be alive.’ And so the mage brrreathed life into the tiny porcelain statue. As he perrrforrrmed the spell, he thought, ‘Therrre was one thing that I did not do with Simberrr that I wish I had done. I grrrant to this kitten nine lives, for cats arrre in constant dangerrr, and she should live a long and prrrosperrrous life. What I did not do beforrre, I will do now. Kitten, you shall live nine times beforrre yourrr end comes. And,’ the mage added, almost as an afterrrthought, ‘you shall have the ability to give up one life to anotherrr cat in need if you so choose.’ ”