Title: Merry Christmas, Mr. Mistoffolees!
Word Count: 2,149
Recipient: Rae-Cat
Rating: G
A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone!
A cheerful sensation was settling over the junkyard along with the great sheets of glittering snow, sprinkling down in petite flakes, dotting everyone’s fur with specks of white. Christmas was in the air, and lifting everyone’s spirits. Snowballs flew over mounds of garbage, kittens scuttled past, sliding on the ice, and all were in constant rehearsal of their carols for the Jellicle Christmas Ball.
This was the first time in the history of the Jellicles that the ball would take place on Christmas, but the Jellicle moon came late this year, and everyone was thrilled. Biting their tongues against the cold, they plowed on just as they had every year in the final weeks before the ball, and continued on with their dancing and singing.
The young kittens still sat in awe before the elders, hearing of balls of the past, giggling excitedly at the thought of going themselves. The queens all still swooned watching the Rum Tum Tugger practice swinging his hips. The elders all still chuckled, watching all of the younger cats, remembering the days when they were that young. All was normal in the Junkyard.
Well, all except for Mistoffelees. He sat away from all the others, lost in his own thoughts. And no one tried to offer him company. The tiny young tom frightened them. He was so different. He never played with the other kittens, or tried to imitate Tugger’s slinky movements, or showed any interest in dancing. He did not belong with them! All he ever did was lurk in the shadows by himself.
No one knew what he was doing, or what he was thinking about. But sometimes, at night, a couple of young, rebellious cats would be frolicking after hours, and see flashes of green light come from his den. And once, when young little Jemima tried approaching him, all of a sudden, the tiny queen found she couldn’t speak when she was near him. So, they had plenty of reason to avoid the mysterious tuxedo.
He had been a foundling. One warm summer evening, Munkustrap had been patrolling, and heard the tiniest, most pathetic little mew you could ever hear near the entrance to the junkyard. When he followed the sound, he found that no one was there. But still he heard the meowing, so he continued on down the shady city side road a bit farther.
Then, turning back around he found a tiny little ball of black fluff sitting just outside the junkyard entrance, where he had looked moments before. Though he was confused, he gathered the kit in his mouth and carried him to the resident foster mother, of sorts, Jennyanydots. The marmalade colored queen immediately took him in, nursing him to a warm, purring, little kitten.
He was put out with the other kittens, but they found he took no interest in their games, and would sit in the corner of their playpen, as if in a coma. When the kittens were old enough to roam freely, he would stay inside his den, laying in the same unresponsive state. Jenny worried over him terribly, and spent hours sitting with the tom, but to no avail.
Now that the ball was coming up, they hoped he would get into the Christmas spirit a bit, and join in the fun, but he did not. Jenny and Munkustrap sat in the Hospital Den, whispering as they watched the little black tom sink in the shadows.
“I just don’t know what to do about him!” Jenny sighed, “He just won’t talk to anyone!”
“Perhaps we should just let him be, for the time being, and see what happens,” Munkustrap replied. Jenny appeared doubtful.
“But, what if it never gets better?” she hissed, “We can’t just let him sit in the shadows his entire life!” Munkustrap nodded gravely.
“I know,” he said, “If he doesn’t improve, I think we’ll have to talk to Old Deuteronomy,” She still looked apprehensive, but reluctantly agreed. They nodded goodbye, and went their separate ways.
Outside, the kittens were all busy playing a game of kick the can, skidding and sliding all over the place. After Pouncival gave the can a solid kick, it went sliding across the ice into a dark corner of the yard, Victoria dashing after it. As she groped in the dark for their make-shift puck, she felt her paw brush up against something furry and warm. She drew in a sharp breath, and withdrew her limb.
Peering through the murky gloom, she made out the figure of a small black tom. She recognized him as Misto, and backed away in fear. She had heard things about him, and he startled her. She repressed a scream when he reached out and touched her paw, but something about his touch calmed her somehow.
“W-what are you d-doing?” she asked in a shaky voice. She heard him sigh out of the darkness. After several moments of silence, she turned and began to walk back to the rest of the kittens.
“Wait!” she heard a silky voice call after her. Spinning around, she saw him draw out of the shadows, his black eyes catching the afternoon sun. She gazed at him. He was actually quite handsome in proper lighting. “Wait,” he whispered, “You” he trailed off, then bit his lip and started again, “You forgot your can,” he nudged it towards her. She gave him a grateful smile, and took it from him, then, giving him one last look over her shoulder, ran back to their game.
Jenny smiled from her seat in the Hospital Den, watching Victoria and Mistoffelees’ conversation. This was the first time he had talked to any of them before. Maybe there was some hope for the little tom.
It was now the day before the ball, and everyone was in a twitter. The kittens watched in wonder as the adults hung garlands across the yard, and erected a lofty tree, laden with berries and broken ornaments. Demeter and Bombalurina were off in the corner, practicing their dance, surrounded by young toms. Munkustrap prowled about, overseeing everything, and Jenny and Jelly chatted atop the TSE 1, finishing up some scarves that they were knitting for Christmas. It was hard to say what they were more excited for: Christmas or the ball. Only two were absent from the happy scene.
Misto and Victoria were sitting inside his den. She perched delicately upon a padded stool with a broken leg, watching him as he paced the room, occasionally looking at her, opening his mouth to speak, then, thinking better of it, turned and continued wearing a hole in the floor.
“So, what do you do all by yourself all the time?” she finally asked, “What do you think about?” He looked over at her, a look of surprise on his face.
“Well,” he began slowly, “It’s strange. Sometimes I feel this-this sort of…power, I guess, inside of me. Like magic! And, I’ve been trying to learn how to control it, I guess. I don’t really know what it is, or why I have it, but…I’ve always felt, well, different from everyone else. I don’t feel like I really fit in. That’s why I’ve never talked to any of you before,” he finished.
“Well, you should,” she replied, “I like talking to you. So, tell me more about this…magic of yours. Is that what the flashes of light were?” He nodded.
“I’ve gotten better at controlling it now, so that doesn’t happen very often anymore. I try to do things with it, like move things around, and light things up,” She looked up eagerly.
“Have you done it yet?” He nodded again, “Can you show me?” she asked with a light in her eye.
“Well, maybe,” he said doubtfully, “I’m not sure if I can…”
“Could you try?” she asked pleadingly, “For me?” she added. At this he looked up.
“Okay,” he gave in, “I’ll try. But no promises,” She fidgeted with excitement. He breathed deeply, and closed his eyes. At first, all was silent, nothing happening. But then, his paws began to glow green, the light building until the pure white queen had to shield her eyes against him. The strain was visible in his forehead.
Across the den, a small, tattered tea towel lifted a foot or two in the air, moved in a wobbling line until it hovered before the young queen, then dropped back down to the floor. He let out a long, jagged breath, and opened his eyes.
Victoria stared at him in admiration, then broke out in cheers, clapping ecstatically.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before!” she cried, “Oh, that was wonderful!” He gave a weak smile.
“You really think so?” he asked, “You don’t think it’s…weird?” She shook her head wildly.
“Of course not!” she exclaimed, “Oh, you have to show everyone at the ball tomorrow!” He blinked in surprise.
“What?” he asked, “B-but what if they think it’s too different! What if no one likes me? What if I can’t do it?” She gave an exasperated sigh.
“Of course they’ll like it!” she said, “And I know you can do it! Don’t doubt yourself! I saw what you did, you can do it again!” He looked uncertain. “Oh, come on. What do you have to lose?” she asked.
“Well,” he began, “Nothing,” he admitted, “But, what if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t,” she assured him, “Now, let’s decide what you’re going to do,”
The night of the ball, the yard was a winter wonderland, covered with glittering snow, all of the Jellicles standing off to the side among the trash, awaiting nightfall. At last, the full moon shone down on them, and they all began to walk into the open, their coats gleaming in the moonlight.
As the ball began, the cats began their performances, singing and dancing, telling stories, and chatting with friends. The kittens all pranced cheerfully, ecstatic about their first ball. Jemima and Etcetera chatted over some mice and milk from the refreshment table.
“Have you seen Victoria?” Jemima inquired. Etcetera shook her head, “I’m worried about her. She went missing yesterday, too,”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Etcetera insisted, “She can take care of herself, she’s a big girl. Come on, let’s go dance! Look, Tugger’s out there now. I think he really likes me!” she said with a squeal. Jemima rolled her eyes, but followed her friend out to the dancefloor.
Victoria and Misto sat off to the side, inside the giant pipe watching the ball.
“It’s almost time,” she whispered excitedly. He gave a nervous nod. “Oh, stop. You’ll be fine!” He made some sort of undecipherable grunt. She laughed. “Oh, look! Here’s our chance! Come on!” She grabbed his paw, dragging him out into the open.
At the sight of the unknown tom, the Jellicles all drew back. A few kittens looked uncertainly at the elders. They were given reassuring looks in response. All eyes were on the two who stood before them on Deuteronomy’s tire.
“Excuse me!” Victoria called out, “Excuse me! I wanted to introduce everyone to a friend of mine! This is Mistoffelees, and he has someone to show everyone! Right, Misto?” He gave a small nod, uncomfortable in the spotlight. “So, Misto? Knock em’ dead!” She slipped off the tire and trotted off to join the other kittens, receiving many questioning looks. She gestured that they look at the stage. Misto was taking a deep breath, then closed his eyes again, gathering his magic. At the sight of the green shine, the felines all gasped in fear, unable to take their eyes off the strange cat.
With a burst of light, he threw dozens of glowing orbs out across the junkyard, all different colors, illuminating everyone’s shocked faces. After the surprise died down, the cats all began to applaud. The cheers grew and grew until the noise was almost deafening. Misto gave a shy smile, then Victoria leapt back up onto the platform, leading the timid tom into a bow.
Jenny drew forward and beckoned Misto closer. She embraced him, then looked him in the eyes.
“Why have you been hiding?” she asked. He smiled bashfully.
“I was afraid everyone would think I was strange,” he admitted. Jenny chuckled.
“We wouldn’t think that!” she exclaimed, “You’re part of our family!”
“I know,” he said, “Victoria showed me that,” Victoria blushed.
“Well, he had it in him all along,” she stuttered, “I just helped him along, that’s all,”
“Victoria?” he asked.
“Yes?” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes.
“W-would you dance with me?” She grinned at him.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, “Let’s go!” she said, dragging him onto the dance floor. Everyone went back to the ball, though many went up to Misto, and introduced themselves. Misto beamed. This night had been perfect. He didn’t think any ball would ever be so good.
Merry Christmas!
