The Aristocats Collection

Chapter 11

(This story ends abruptly BUT it is continued right from the start in the next story. Happy Aristocatting!)
"What are their names?"

    I stared down at the four kittens scrambling about on the carpet. The buzzing sounds of construction continued, as Madame had hired workers to extend the house.
    I had not thought of what to name the kittens. And yet, there was my mate, Adam, hunched over me, asking the names.
    Two boys, and two girls. Even. I came to a conclusion. "How about you name one of our girls and one of our boys and I'll do the same. Hmm?" I suggested. Adam nodded. "Ok," he started. "The sable brown boy--hmm, I feel his name should be..." Adam thought for a second. "Why, his name should be Lancaster, after the city where my mother was born. Lanc for short.
    This time, the name seemingly came right to Adam's mind. "The white girl with the little brown specks, she'll be Bristol. That way she is named after the city where my father was born." he proudly announced.
    I nodded. I would follow Adam. "I'll name the all brown girl Paris, after my mother's birthplace." I started. "And the male--"
    I looked closer at him. He was ginger with a white chest and a white streak following down to the nose. He looked just like O'Malley.
    Don't ask me how he looked like that. Besides being our adoptive father, O'Malley was not related to me in any way. And I don't recall having any ginger ancestors. I had a change of heart.
    "The ginger male will be Abraham Giuseppe. Abe Gio for short." I said. After Thomas.
    Adam nodded, as if the names were accepted. "I especially like the name Abraham Giuseppe." he smiled. "And Paris sounds just as fine."
    Later we introduced our new kittens to our ever-growing family. Duchess thought that Paris looked like she should win a pageant. Toula (who was nearly grown), Rebel, and Bella thought that Bristol would definitely grow up to be a fine Aristalley cat. Mariette (who was also nearly grown) and Diamond were truly hoping that Lanc would be a very proper cat (hey, who says boys can't be neat and clean?) And finally, O'Malley.
    O'Malley said that Abe Gio was a beautiful little cat. He said that Abe Gio definitely somehow picked up on his looks. O'Malley also said that no matter what, we would always be together.
    It only took a week for the kittens to learn the English language, and they were wonderful. It was time they had a personality check.
    Every litter of kittens, at some point, had been given a personality test, even Toulouse, Berlioz and I. You see, a personality test is simple.
    "Line up!" I told the kittens. They did as they were told. Bristol was first in line. I looked her in the eye and began the procedure.
    "What makes you happy, and tell me how you would describe your other siblings." I told her. See, simple. "Ok...so I weally get appy when I am exporing da world. Oh, and Lanc is proper, Paris is a princess, and Abe Gio is cute."
    I laughed. Bristol was definitely Aristalley-ish. Next in line was Lanc. I told him the same. Lanc, of all my kittens, already had the best English (though even he made some mistakes).
    "I really love playing da violin and singing. Paris is so beautiful I could pretend she is a fairy. Abe Gio is artsy. And finally, Bristol is super tough."
    Bristol puffed out her chest, as if acknowledging what Lanc had said. I giggled, and then moved to Abe Gio.
"I feel like I can lep my tots-" I stopped him. "Your thoughts?" I asked. He nodded. "I feel like when I paint, they see da world. Bristol is why ulled--"
"Wild?"
"Yes."
"Lanc is moosical, and Paris is singy."
    I knew what he meant by singy--that she had a nice voice. Finally, Paris.
    "You know our family used to live in Paris?" I said, smiling. She nodded. "Gramma told me that's wat you name me after." I nodded. "Ok, on with it." I remembered. "Yes, of corf. I like dressing uf and singimp. Lanc is sweet, Bristol is boyish, and Abe Gio is--" she struggled for a minute. "Diffent." she whispered wondrously. "Abe Gio is diffent."
    I nodded. I could now outline three of my kitten's personalities and their desires in life. Beautiful lives and desires. But I still could not get Abe Gio's.
    You see, Abe Gio is a very secretive kitten. It's hard to decode him. I could tell he was artistic, but that was not as much of a personality. It was--a hobby, I guess. But I couldn't tell whether he was nice, mean, stingy--you get the deal. I don't even know if Abe Gio himself knew.
    As soon as I called the meeting adjourned, the kittens scrambled off in different directions. Lanc and Paris hung around Diamond, Duchess, Desiree and Mariette. Bristol hung with Toula, Rebel, Zeke, O'Malley, Duke, Junior, Bella, and sometimes Toulouse.
Little Abe Gio preferred company one at a time, but he had a short list of people to pick from. Berlioz, Cannes, Adam and Berlay were all there. However, Abe Gio still preferred painting and sculpting to socializing. For a kitten, his paintings were very good. Though not on his company list, Toula sometimes guided him with the paintings. He would follow. Whenever this was happening, Berlay would go to help Lanc with violin. I was sitting upstairs in my childhood bedroom, playing the harp Mama had given me.
Abe Gio and Lanc peeked into the room. I noticed them slowly, but I think they were trying to listen (not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty good on a harp).
I struck a note and stopped playing. "Abe Gio, Lanc." I said. "Come here, darlings."
They inched closer, eyes filled wonder. I began to play again, and I heard Lanc whisper, "I wish I could play like that." Abe Gio stopped me. "Mama, how did you ever get to play like a dream?" he asked, eyes twinkling as he talked. I nodded. "Both you and Lanc are wonderful and dream-like, too. And your sisters."
I decided I would tell the kittens a story. My entire story. As soon as I announced that I would be telling a store, Bristol and Paris rushed in. I started the story.
"We once had a butler named Edgar. Madame had announced her will, and she was going to give us all her money. Now, at the time, only your Grandma, Berlioz,Toulouse and I were the only cats Madame had. And Berlioz, Toulouse and I were all kittens. Now, Edgar wanted to have all the money. So he kidnapped us! And it was in the wild that we met your adoptive grandfather, Mr. Abraham deLacy Giuseppe Casey Thomas O'Malley. We ventured, and finally we left O'Malley. But when we got home, Edgar tried to ship us off to Timbuktu! Roquefort, who was a house mouse, went to get O'Malley and his gang of Alley Cats. Then they saved us--and we shipped Edgar to Timbuktu. O'Malley came home to live with us, also. But I wanted to know more. I wanted to know who my real father was."
Paris stopped me. "But isn't O'Malley your grandpa?" she asked. I laughed. "He's my dad, and your grandpa." I explained. "Impothible!" Paris giggled. "Well, let's continue."
"My brothers and I wanted to find out who our real father was, and if there would be more kittens. So we asked, and your Grandma gave us answers. But I wanted more. So I went out in a world of danger. It was hard, but I did find Duke and his daughter Rebel. It was hard for them to adapt to being an Aristocat, but they got the hang of it. And finally, three new kittens came--Mariette, Berlay and Toula."
Bristol looked sad. "Why the sadness, Bristol?" I asked. "I wish I could adventure like that." she whispered, almost crying. "I want to be a wild cat. I want it to be my life."
The last words I heard from Bristol. After that, we went to sleep. The next morning Bristol was gone. I searched and called every where. Bristol didn't came up.
We all honored her greatly. I loved Bristol. I vowed never to tell my kittens a story again. Never, ever. Stories were banned from my family.
Bristol was greatly loved within the Aristalley section of our household. Toula sometimes teared up thinking of her--but would then get tough, as if it had never happened.
Of all my kittens, the one affected the most by Bristol's disappearance was Abe Gio. Whenever he would walk up to the windows (which I kept closed every night for the fear that the kittens would fall), he would whisper, "Bristol...come back."
Paris and Lanc both cried when they learned their sister had disappeared. Adam and I hugged and cried. We were devastated, and we had been affected most of everyone. It was the single worst thing imaginable. And nothing could replace it. Even when I met Sara.
Madame had apparently brought Sara to take Bristol's place "until she returned", which we all knew would be never. Sara was a very light ginger cat who resembled Desiree. Sara was a little girl, just a bit older than my kittens. She was not aristocatic (as she was a bit shy), but overall she was nice and caring.
When I first met my adopted child, I felt a bit uncomfortable. The kitten sitting in front of me, I had never met her before. And she was supposed to be my child? Uh, no. At least that's what I thought at first.
"Hi." Sara mumbled, taking a quick glance at me. I nodded. "I'm Marie, and I'm sort of kind of..." I stopped, and began again. "Oh, I'll start again. I'm Marie, and I am your adoptive mother."
Sara nodded back. I smiled. "I can show you to your bed. It's purple. I thought you might like purple." I said. "I like yellow...but that's okay." Sara whispered. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, I smiled. "Ok, let me show you."
I led Sara the bedroom where all our beds were. Her bright, neon purple bed sat crammed in the corner of the bedroom, where Bristol's was. I had to take away Bristol's bed for fear she would damage my only remnant of her. In fact, Bristol's bed was yellow. But I was scared.
Sara trotted over to her bed and curled up in it. She looked up at me. "Well, it's certainly very..." she thought for a minute. "Comfy." I nodded. "Madame is known for making soft blankets."