The Aristocats Collection

Chapter 21

(One more celebration special edition! In today's story, Paris will be taking over the controls! This story is in her POV, not Marie's! After, it'll revert back to normal again.)

It was just like the story Mummy had told us. What, you ask? My antics at this moment. I was running away. Not to find a hidden relative and not just for a little while--running away forever. I'm almost half a year old now--I can fend for myself!
Mummy should have never done what she did. I turned the corner, the bag I was holding on my back bouncing. And then I felt a drop.
I looked up. A gray, wet looking cloud that seemed to stretch for miles was above me. Hmm. I thought. Wonder what that's all about.
As hard as I tried to ignore it, drops of water started sliding down my back. Dropping on my head. I heard a crackle and a humm. It was storming.
I rushed through the puddles as fast as lightning. Water zoomed into the air as I skidded through it. There! A shed! I ran toward it and slipped under the door.
The shed was nice and quiet besides the rain outside. It looked more like an old chicken coop, and I think that's what it was. Neat, hay-lined nests stood at each end. I climbed into one. Cozy.
Just as I was nestled snug, I heard something come down through the hole in the door. I bent down, my heart beating fast. Something else was in here.
I tried to be quiet. But it was a familiar voice, one Bristol had described to me in detail. "Ah, finally back in the shed." the voice said. This cat I could trust.
I popped my head up. "Uncle Hawthorne!" I exclaimed happily. "Remember me? I'm Paris, Bristol's sister."
Hawthorne looked at me. "Ha, ya'll Bonfamille kits are always running off." he said, shaking his head.
"Uncle Hawthorne, I want to join your gang." I said hollowly. "My mummy doesn't respect my..." I thought for a second. "My survival skills."
"I'm not very sure I can keep a secret, Paris. But I sure will try." Hawthorne nodded. I smiled. Mummy doesn't think I can survive? I'll show her. Oh, I will show her face.
Uncle Hawthorne and I walked in the rain. I walked under Uncle Hawthorne so he could protect me from the rain. I thought about my new life ahead.
Uncle Hawthorne stopped at an alley with a covered roof. It led back really far. I heard laughing and music, and I saw light blaring off walls. This was gonna be fun!
We walked in the alley. Turns out, there is a downstairs! We walked down them.
About 20 cats were all dancing around. "Stop!" yelled Hawthorne. The musicians dropped the bass (literally), everyone stopped dancing, and everyone stared at Hawthorne.
"Here is newest member of our gang, Paris!" he shouted. "She is my grand niece. Evann, Ivory, Hillary, Heavenly, Henrietta and Helga!"
Turns out, Ivory is Hawthorne's daughter. Evann is her mate. Hillary, Heavenly, Henrietta, and Helga are their daughters. And it turns out the thing I never knew about them at private school--they have one baby brother named Hefty. He can't even speak yet, but he can walk. Or maybe he can speak, but just doesn't like to.
The quadruplets are just a little bit older than me, maybe Sara's age. They are all black cats. I was happy. But then I was told the story of why these cats lived as Alley cats.
Hawthorne and his family--his wife and his daughter and her husband all used to live happily together in an Aristocatic home. Their owner, Mistress Appendale, loved them. One day, the butler of the home decided that he hated the cats so much that he planned a plot. The butler slit the couch, and when Mistress Appendale saw it, she thought it was the cats who had done it. So she literally threw them out the door. When Hawthorne's wife was thrown, she got hurt. But she slinked away--away from everything, somewhere
And so, in the end, Hawthorne and his family ended up here. Sort of like an Allistocat, that's what I'll call it. Used to be an Aristocat, but changed. I sighed. Butlers and maids can never be trusted. Not ever. Never.
Hawthorne showed me to a nearly blank room that I could live in. It was purple painted with a nest of hay in the corner. In silver paint, written across the wall, was "Allistocat Life". Well someone understood. I was no longer an Aristocat--it was Alley cat time.
"I wanna be a singer." I told Uncle Hawthorne. "Can I have a microphone in my room?" Hawthorne nodded. "We have a spare."
In the next hour or so we had created a wonderful room. We covered the hay with a blanket to make it more like a bed. There was a microphone in the middle of the room. A picture of Hawthorne posing with his family when Ivory was little hung parallel to the door. A satin silver fabric lay in the center of the floor as a carpet. But the one thing we did not change changed the most--the silver writing of 'Allistocat Life' glimmered, shimmering in the dim yellow light. I stared at it, smiling. Yes. Aristocats? Nah. Alley cats? Oh yeah.
I snuggled up in my new bed. Of course it was nowhere near as comfy as my bassinet, but it was more cozy than the ground. My first half day as an Allistocat was ending.

I woke up to the sound of a saxophone and the clinking of glasses. It was always a party here. I walked out of my room. The musicians were playing on, their drinks sloshing in cups. The took sips and then started dancing again. Heavenly walked over to me. "Hey, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "I'll call the caterer for your breakfast. Get it? Ha ha. Ok, I'll call her now. Margaret!"
An old gray cat bustled over to me. "Dearie, what would you like?" she giggled, tapping her toes to the music and moving her arms to the beat. "I'll have some..." I thought for a minute. "Some chicken. Also a cup of that Cat --extra sugar, light coffee!" I said.
Margaret walked away to prepare my meal. I stepped onto the dance floor. "Hey, why don't you wanna sing?" Henrietta asked. "I do, but I can't just go up there are sing." I laughed. Henrietta cocked her head at me, puzzled. "Yes you can. Hawthorne likes cats to follow their dreams. Go on up." she nodded. Pleased to hear this, I rushed up on stage. The music went silent, and Cattie, the singer, handed me the mic. "Sing on, lil' sister!" he nodded, swiveling around and leaping off stage. It was my time to shine!
"She makes up rules, it ends up in duels.  I can't believe she can be such a fool. That's when I went to a whole new place. At first I thought I couldn't keep up with the pace. On the dance floor I go--singing along as I make it my own show! Be the person you wanna be--those parents can't force anything upon me. I'll dance all I want, I'll break what I want. I'll make up the new Garde of Avant!"
I couldn't believe I thought everything there and what I sang next as I went. Not to brag, but it sounded like I had practice that song my whole life! Do do dum, da do da. But then I realized something.
An image of Mama flashed into my mind. She was crying, standing over a picture of me. Adam had his arms around her, shedding a few tears. I attempted to shake it out of my mind, but the more I tried, the more it stayed. Mama's cries rang in my ears.
Paris. Paris. She is gone.
    And there I was, center stage, mouth open in awe. The words kept ringing in my ears. Paris. Paris. Paris--again and again. I jumped off the stage. "I am an Aristocat!" I announced.
    Everyone gasped, whispered, and pointed. I nodded. "I ran away." Another round of attention came on. "I must return." Every whispered for a minute. One cat jumped. "I will help you." he said. And in chorus, another stood up. "Me too." Two more showed themselves. "Us too!" they shouted in harmony. And just like that, everyone started shouted, "I will!" and "Also me!". I just nodded. "Take me to 34 Night Street! And...away!"
    The crowd of cats marched along, lifting me into the air. I felt royal!
I couldn't wait to get home. It would be my dream. What was I now? I guess...an AristAlliAristocat!