Chapter 8
The train remained stopped at the station through the evening and the night, as some freight cars were uncoupled and coupled again, and other passenger cars were rolled onto the sidings to be hooked up to the engine. The empty freight car that the cats occupied was unnoticed and untouched. Muse and Contempt kept to the shadowy back corners to avoid being seen. Once full darkness descended, though, they slept a sound sleep, a dreamless sleep, plunged into silence after having gotten used to the rumble of the moving train. How still and quiet their motionless train car was now; they slept heavily.
They knew that nearby, so did Watch.
Muse woke when the train lurched into movement just before the sun rose. She thought she heard a sound above her, through the grinding and the clanking of the train as it gained speed, almost as if another animal was walking on the roof. She dismissed it as her imagination. Her body was stiffly sore and she forced her legs to shuffle into a walk to loosen up. Contempt stirred and limped to her feet, trying to stretch herself out.
Contempt was distant, as the sun rose and the train rolled farther from the town, and she only spoke distractedly. Muse knew she missed her brother, and she allowed the older cat her privacy. Once, though, Contempt's head rose sharply in awareness, all heartbreak momentarily forgotten, as she stared at the ceiling of the car and sniffed keenly. Muse, again, had thought she'd heard a faint padding of paws, as though there were cats walking along the roof of the freight cars, but at the speed the train was travelling now, that would be nearly impossible.
Neither cat mentioned it.
Another hour passed, and the countryside rolled along outside. The cats stretched and settled on the warm patch of the rusty steel floor near the edge of their car, where the sun warmed the metal.
Contempt lifted her head again, and looked at the ceiling.
"Well, I never," she said.
Muse looked up too.
"Train cats," declared Contempt. She stood. "Train cats. And I thought they were just a legend."
Muse listened carefully, trying to hear movement above, through the rumble of the train.
"Train cats," explained Contempt, "are wild cats who ride the freight cars and explore this whole country, from ocean to ocean. They stop when and where they like, and they travel again as they please. They're untrustworthy, unaccountable, a little bit dangerous, and utterly handsome. Well," she added, "that's what the stories say, anyway."
She tossed her head and arched her back, trying to look sultry. "How do I look, darling?" she asked Muse, with a bit of a purr in her voice. "It used to be I was quite the beauty queen. I never thought I'd have a chance to turn the head of a train cat."
Muse looked at her as she posed, and smiled in amusement.
You look beautiful.
Contempt had once been beautiful, that much was true. But her long fur was ungroomed and matted with dirt and oils, and her coat had thin patches. Her ears were stained a grey color from years of lying on pavement, her paws were blackened, and she always carried the lingering odor of a dumpster.
Contempt raised an eyebrow.
"You're sweet, but you're a liar," she said. She got busy licking her paws and using them to rub her ears and face, carefully, for her wounded forearms were still sore and only beginning to heal. Her efforts were not in vain, though; after several minutes, the long fur on her cheeks fluffed symmetrically on either side, and the soft fur on her ears whitened. She turned her attention to her back and her tail. Muse watched her, feeling sorry for her efforts but glad that Contempt could still reclaim some of her lost glamour. Her fur was so long on her back and sides, and so matted, that Contempt stopped and gagged on her own hairballs every few moments, before she went back to work. Muse continued to listen for activity above their heads, and Contempt gnawed on her paws in a most unladylike way, trying to separate the pads of her paws to release years of black city soot.
"I non't ewen snell nysell now," said Contempt through her left hind paw.
Muse couldn't help it. She rolled with silent laughter. What did you say? she chortled.
Contempt spat out her paw. "I don't. Even. Smell. Myself. Now," she said overly clearly. "I never realized that the lovely odor of fish heads and old cream was what was on me. I thought it was just wishful thinking."
I'm sure, in the city, it was never noticeable, replied Muse kindly. She hid a giggle.
"Well." Contempt stood again, walked to the edge of the freight car, hunched her back, and very ungracefully vomited up a hairball. "I'd say that about takes care of that. Now where was I?"
She smoothed her whiskers, which were still uneven lengths but now sprung straight and strong and clean from her face, and looked up at the ceiling. "That's where I was," she said quietly to herself, with a sly smile.
She did not have to wait long. During the afternoon, while the cats sat watching the land outside but listening, with their ears straight up, for any evidence of life above them, several pairs of long ears and bright eyes peered down from the top of the open wall of the freight car. Muse leapt to her feet, startled and on guard, but Contempt smiled lazily and barely inclined her head.
"Boys," she greeted them, with a purr. "How nice of you to join us."
With two upside down leaps that defied even a cat's version of gravity, the train cats flipped themselves into the freight car from the roof, through the open wall. They stood where they landed, entirely at ease, as though they had been standing there, relaxed, for hours.
"Ladies," one of the train cats greeted them, with a slight flourish of his tail. "If this isn't an unexpected surprise."
His voice was deep and musical, and slightly mocking. Muse's eyes widened. He was a big cat, sleekly rippled with sinewy muscles, with a strong, straight tail. His fur was patched with white over one eye and the tip of his front paws, but he was otherwise shiny and black. His eyes, however, were as green as polished glass. He looked first at Contempt, and then at Muse, and then back at Contempt without blinking. He suddenly smiled, flashily, showing too many teeth.
The other cat was a brightly colored calico, and just as big, though heftier where the first was sleeker. His patches of white fur were overrun by brindle stripes of vibrant orange and brown tortoiseshell. He bowed, rakishly, and when he looked up, Muse saw that his eyes were a surprising blue.
"How charming," the calico said, without taking his eyes off Muse. He smiled also, but slowly, and his smile was no more sincere than the black cat's.
"What brings you lovely ladies on board?" inquired the black cat, still smiling. "A vacation? A flirtation with adventure? A quest for love?"
"A quest, certainly," answered Contempt, carefully holding her head high to show her pearls. Her newly clean fur was fluffy and dry, and she was entirely in her element, polishing her remembered skills of coquetry. "I'm just showing this young one her way home, and I'm never a stranger to an adventure." She winked at the black cat.
"Madam, so I see," he replied. He circled over to where she laid, her front paws carefully crossed on top of each other, her tail a fluffy question mark gracefully arching from her back haunches. "I imagine you've seen your share of adventure." He loped in circles around her, sizing her up from all angles. She met his gaze calmly and confidently each time he passed, a small smile playing on her lips. Her demure but sassy pose was as much for his benefit as his parading was for hers. "And where is home for the young one?"
"Oh, some country train stop. We don't know yet." Contempt yawned in a show of boredom and shifted her gaze to watch the landscape outside.
"The country is wide, my young lovely," he said, directing himself to Muse. "There are, in fact, three thousand miles of it, and these trains cover many of them. Artiss!" he said, turning to his friend. "Mate, how many of those miles would you reckon we've covered?"
"Oh, all three thousand of them, only several times over," answered Artiss with false modesty. "We do spend a lot of our time on top of these trains, taking in the sights, breathing in
the wind, under the open sky, celebrating our freedom. Hopping off in cities to share our love of life with new friends, and visiting the countryside, too, to teach the joie de vivre to the more timid souls. I'd say," he continued roguishly, "from east to west, and north to south, we've traveled tens of thousands of miles."
He smiled and waited for Contempt and Muse to be impressed.
If Contempt was, she did not show it. Muse was too overwhelmed by the personalities of the train cats to form any opinion other than awe.
"So, young lovely," said the black cat to Muse, "where in these three thousand miles do you plan to stop?"
I… I really don't know, Muse answered bashfully. She couldn't formulate any other words while she struggled to put her thoughts in order. The black cat, who was used to watching young females struggle with their composure around him, smiled knowingly, but Artiss took a step towards Muse, his arrogance disappearing into curiosity.
"Check you out," he breathed, amazed. "Say something else."
Uh… um, stumbled Muse, I don't know… I can't…
Artiss let out a whoop of glee. "Check her out, Malcome! She's magical!"
Malcome wheeled towards her, suddenly interested. "So you say, mate?" he asked quizzically. "What's the magic? I see plenty of magic in those eyes, young lovely. And there is definitely magic happening in the lovely curve of your—"
"I'm serious!" insisted Artiss. "You, young cat, seriously. Say something."
Muse took a deep breath. I am not a freak. She formed the thought steadily, summoning her courage. This is how I talk. Now what are you going to say about it?
In the front of the freight car, Contempt chucked.
"I'm rubbing off on you, Muse," she said knowingly. "We better get you to your stop before it gets any worse."
"I like to see some personality," said Malcome. "She could use some of what I suspect you have to offer." He winked at Contempt. "And so could I, gorgeous."
The arc of Contempt's feathery tail flipped to the other side as she shivered with a pleasure that all her self-possession could not hide. "You have no idea what I could offer," she suggested with a grin.
Malcome laughed, his first genuine emotion. "I imagine you could teach me plenty," he answered, gaily. "But Artiss! You seem quite smitten with our magical, silent young lovely."
Artiss was indeed drawn towards Muse, and she brought herself up, haughtily, under his examination. She would not meet his eyes but kept hers pridefully fixed to the wall behind him.
"You are something special, that's for dang sure," Artiss murmured under his breath. "So tell me again where your stop is?"
Muse drew a deep breath, and looked at him.
I'm not sure. She formed her words carefully, not wanted to appear impossibly young and naïve next to these experienced and travelled train cats. I have no memories of my kittenhood, but I dream, at night, of the countryside. I think – She hesitated. I think I'll recognize it when I see it.
"I sure know that I recognize something when I see it," said Artiss, with a grin. "But you're not interested in me." He did not sound hurt, but rather delighted with the notion that a female cat had dreams that did not involve his powerful and husky body, and his adventurousness, and his shining blue eyes. "But as Malcome mentioned, the country is a big place, and there are a lot of countrysides."
His blue eyes turned kind as he regarded her.
"I do know a little bit about chasing dreams," he said.
Muse nodded. We're getting close, I think. The smell of the air – it's becoming familiar. When I look outside, I keep expecting to see a mountain I know, around each turn.
"She can't have been from too far away, from the big city," said Contempt. "She'd have remembered the travel, no matter how young she was when she was taken to it. If I had to guess, I'd say this train line is running the same route that she was traveled, in the opposite direction. But perhaps in a car."
The cats, with some tacit agreement, all moved to the edge of the freight car, where Contempt was lying. She stood then, and the four animals regarded the landscape shoulder to shoulder. They had left any vestige of towns behind. Only the countryside was rushing by them, forested hills sweeping into mountain peaks growing larger on the horizon. Muse felt her heart very slowly lift higher in her chest and expand into joy all around her as the land broke wide open into tumbling, distant mountains and forests and long, fragrant grasses. And rushing streams, and thickets of pines and firs and birch trees. The sun crowned the highest snow-capped mountain peak far, far in the distance and Muse reverently inhaled the breaths of a country afternoon.
Contempt was awed. "Well no wonder," she muttered, and drew another step closer to the edge to get a better look.
Muse was suffused with happiness. She shot one radiant look at Contempt, and Contempt laughed quietly. "Let me guess," said Contempt. "This is exactly what you've dreamt of."
Exactly. Muse's face spread into a rapturous smile almost too big for her small face. Exactly.
Contempt clucked and kept chuckling to herself. Outside, the sun was strong and yellow as it beamed over the mountaintops. "Well sweetheart, then this is where I get off, and you ride ahead and take your leap, whenever you find your perfect spot."
You mean… you're leaving? Now?
"Yes! It's time to reclaim the wild life of the city! Find out what I've missed! My heart belongs to civilization, honey, and the sushi bars have been calling my name."
But how will you—
Just then Muse noticed a train approaching on the parallel sets of tracks, its wheels churning slowly as it prepared to pass the cats' train, which was also slowing down. Muse didn't notice any open freight cars, and right as she began to wonder how Contempt could leap from one train to another, Contempt answered her unspoken question.
"Right on top, baby, right on top." She laughed loudly. "You with me, boys? Care to escort an old lady back to her pleasures of the city?"
Malcome and Artiss exchanged a glance of satisfaction and grinned.
"I don't see any old ladies here," said Malcome, "but I would be more than honored to accompany this alluring dame on her journey homeward."
"And I also," added Artiss. "Young thing," he said to Muse, "stay magical. I'll come check on you one day. And – good luck."
He smiled at her, and quickly nuzzled her neck. Malcome gave her cheek a quick lick, and he and Artiss both turned as if they were of one mind and leaped like springs were on their hind legs, onto the top of the other train.
"It's easy!" called Malcome, steady on the roof of the passing train. "Hurry now, you foxy thing!"
Contempt took a deep, nervous cheerful breath and crouched. Muse laughed delightedly. Contempt smiled at her, knowing she would miss the jingle of the younger cat's laughter in her head.
"You take care now," she said fondly. "Dream-chaser." And with that she sprang powerfully from the car and careened high into the air, arcing high over both trains. Muse held her breath. Contempt landed squarely on top of a flat freight car and stood up straight, the wind in her face, blowing her long fur gloriously out behind her.
"I'm going baaaack!" she called out ecstatically. Muse lifted her paw as Contempt and the train cats were whisked further and further away.
Goodbye! she called as loudly as she could, watching the other train chug away until it was out of sight. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye! And thank you! She hoped they heard.
And then, alone, Muse turned to meet her dream.