Children of Bast by Frederick Fuller
Fergus took an attack stance, down on his haunches but on his toes with his upper legs cocked for grabbing or punching. His weight was on his back legs, ready to spring. Giving out a hiss and a scream, he hit me straight on and brought me down. He attacked my ears, then nailed my throat when I pulled my ears back, but he didn’t bite down.
He relaxed and let me go, then said, “Did you get that? I went for your ears, tender and easy to shred, and when you pulled back to protect ‘em, I got your throat. Now, if I was serious, I would have clamped your throat hard and tried to rip a hole. With the right hole ripped, the fight’s over.”
I stood, still feeling his fangs on my throat. “Okay, how do I defend myself?”
“First, forget your ears. They’ll heal, okay. A little shredding here and there, but they’ll still work.” I thought of your ears, Chubby. “Besides, ragged ears mean you’ve had experience and survived. It’ll be noticed and may impress your enemy. Okay, when he goes for the ears, you roll your head into him so he can get the ears easy, but leaves his throat open. You clamp on and take out the hole. Okay?”
“What if he moves too fast?”
“Good point. You’re on his throat, right? He’s got to pull back from your ears so he won’t lose his throat and sets himself up for you to slap the crap out of him. Let’s try it slow.”
We squatted, and he lunged. He grabbed my ears and presented his throat, which I latched on to. But, he pulled back quickly and left his face open to my paws, which I landed on his nose.”
“Great! If you belt him hard, real hard, using your claws to rip his face, you’ll confuse him and leave his throat and belly open. Either one’s good.”
Caching my breath, I said to Fergus, “Okay, that’s cool, but you’re cooperating, and I know that ain’t the way it is. Get real.”
Walking to the edge of the lake, Fergus occupied himself with a long drink. When finished, he came toward me slowly, purring. “You’re right. “Mutt,” he called. Mutt, who’d been lounging at the edge of our battleground, came over.
“Ferg?” He looked at me and grinned.
“Mutt, beat the khara outta Pretty Tom here, and no holds barred. Don’t kill him, but make him hurt so he’ll remember.”
Mutt eyed me. “You da boss, Boss.” He took two steps toward me.
To say I was scared is like saying rats stink, or that when it rains you get wet. I was shaking inside. Mutt, I knew, was a celebrated fighter. I saw many amai walk around him, never even bristling or bulging their tails. Mutt was a legend.
I got ready, gave out the best hiss and yowl I could. Mutt lowered his head but never took his eyes off me, slobbers dropping from his mouth.
I can’t describe what happened, Chubby. All I remember is his attack, like a white smear against the dark sky. He came for me, but that’s all I remember. When I came to, I was on my side, a deep gash in my left shoulder that was bleeding like crazy. Here, you can still see the scar. My right ear felt three times its size, blood dripped down my faraawi from my neck, and I was wiped out. I looked for Mutt and found him close by, on his side, bleeding from many wounds and gasping for air. Just the tip of his tail was moving. Fergus was bent over licking his face.
“Did I kill him?”
“No. But he’s in bad shape. Help me get him to the bushes. Can you stand, Mutt?” He didn’t move for a moment, then slowly got to his feet, his legs shaking.
“What about you, Nebibi?” Fergus asked.
When I moved I felt cut in half. Pain shot through me and I puked. My left front leg was shot, and I knew my ear was dropping off. But I managed to get up and limp to the bushes while Fergus drug Mutt most of the way. When I got there, I passed out. I guess Mutt did too; I don’t remember.
Fergus told us when we woke up that he’d been a fighter for a long time and had watched a lot fights everywhere, but he said this one was unbelievable. “I seen Mutt fight lots of times, taking on some of the biggest amai out here, and he won every time. But this was somethin’ else.” He paused and plopped down in front of us. “It was short, very short. Mutt, as usual, faked a dive for your ears, Nebibi, and then rolled under to tear out your throat. But, wham! You ripped his ear almost off and grabbed the side of his neck, raking him down the sides with your back claws. He whipped around, took hold of your ear and began making lace, while you went for his belly and tore at it. That’s when I broke it up. I wacked both of you hard enough to kill a kilaab.” He looked away like he was reliving the moment. “You guys lost it. You were both outta your mind. One of you would be dead if I hadn’t jumped in. Maybe even both of you.”
I could hardly move for a week. Even my tongue ached and I ate very little. Killing and eating anything was impossible. Fergus shared his catch with me and Mutt, who was as bad off as I was.
Chapter 13
A fox was boasting to a Cat of its clever devices for escaping its enemies. “I have a whole bag of tricks,” he said, “which contains a hundred ways of escaping my enemies.” “I have only one,” said the Cat; “but I can generally manage with that.” Just at that moment they heard the cry of a pack of hounds coming towards them, and the Cat immediately scampered up a tree and hid herself in the boughs. “This is my plan,” said the Cat. “What are you going to do?” The Fox thought first one way, then another, and while he was debating the hounds came nearer and nearer, and at last the Fox in his confusion was caught up by the hounds and soon killed by the huntsmen. Miss Puss, who had been looking on, said: “Better one safe way than a hundred on which you cannot reckon.” Aesop
Everyday I went over the fight and tried to remember what happened, but for the life of me I could not. It was like I had been asleep or knocked out. Fergus’ story was sketchy, too, because he said it happened so fast. But what interested me was how I knew what to do. Like I told Fergus, I had never been in a fight before. Never even hissed at anything or anyone. Maama used to wrestle with us, but it was just for fun, just three amai rolling around purring. When Mutt felt up to talking, he shed some light.
“Like you said, Nebibi, we’re born killers. Everything about us is fixed to kill. Your maama ever kill a toy?”
“No. Why would she kill a toy? They’re not alive.”
“I don’t mean really kill a toy. I know they ain’t alive, but did she ever attack it like it was alive and she had to kill it?”
I thought about it and remembered how she played with a ball we had. She’d flatten out, stare at it, then pounce, trap it and bite it hard. “Yeah. I did that, too.”
“She teach you to do it?” Mutt asked.
“I guess. Watching her I learned.”
“Okay, here’s the deal: amai are born to kill, right? And even though we’re bright enough to know a toy is not alive, we go at it like it was and hit it with the killing bite.”
“Killing bite?”
“Yeah. It’s the bite we use on everything. Where do you bite a rat or a tuyuur?”
“Neck. Back of the neck.”
“Who taught you that?”
Again, I thought about it. The night Mutt and Fergus showed me how to do a rat, it was dark under that building and I could only see shadows. All I remember was the shadow of them leaving with something in their mouths. When I got my rat, it was sudden, and I did bite it hard in the back of the neck before I took its head in my mouth. Same with the tuyuur.
“The killing bite polishes them off quick,” Fergus said.
“Right,” said Mutt. “But, no one taught you that, Nebibi. It came natural. I look at it this way: when you and I fought, we became each other’s kill. We went for each other without a second thought. We wanted to kill. We wanted to live. Something inside of us took over and we went for it. What do think?”
“Could be. Sounds good. Maybe we just turn on naturally.”
“I think you’re right,” Fergus said. “How else would a greenhorn like you, Nebibi, dish out this kind of pain on someone like Mutt who’s the best fighter around?”
“
“Because they’ve seen him in action. And if they haven’t watched him fight, as I recall, they have a problem, don’t they Mutt.”
“Yeah, but not like with Nebibi here. You’re something else Kid.
“Mutt was right,” Chubby said. “We are killers, no doubt about it.” He stared at me for a second. “’Course, we don’t always go for the kill.”
“Yeah, if an amait runs away, we don’t chase him down and kill him. But, if they stay around, they usually die.”
“Sometimes we pull back, especially if it’s an amait we respect.”
“That’s true.”
“I’ve seen you fight, Gaylord, and you’re scary as hell. Have you ever lost a fight?”
“No. You know if I’d lost I wouldn’t be here talking to you. Have you ever lost, Chubby?”
“No. For the same reason. Go on, please. This is getting interesting.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Tuyuur Song was coming so we rolled into a bundle and slept. For several days, though, I thought about what Mutt said, and as I mulled it over, it made more and more sense. We amai are amazing. Soft and cuddly, looking calm and cool, but when threatened, we can get downright mean and dangerous, cause real damage, even death. I have to admit it made me proud to be an amait, but I was savvy enough to know all amai were fighters like me, and I respected them for it.
When the Season of Emergence came, I was a real amait by then, able to hunt all my meals with or without Fergus and Mutt. No fights came up, but I was sure I’d win. I even got my own territory near Mutt’s at the lakeshore. The three of us sniffed around and agreed it was open.
I liked being alone now and then. Fergus and Mutt were great, but I liked to just sit and think about stuff and doze off without one of my buddies leaping on me for fun and games. I like fun and games, but not constantly like they did. Oh, they slept a lot, but when awake, whoever was sleeping was in danger. Both of them still had a lot of kith in them.
Anyway, this one day I was dozing and dreaming about Adele. I wondered how she was getting along, and especially how you were doing, Chubby. After all, you are an old amait, and you never know.”
~ ~ ~ ~
“Watch it,” Chubby snarled. “I’ll bite your tail.”
“I’m terrified.”
“Better be.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Adele, I imagined, was all right because she was young and smart. And, as beautiful as she was I knew she’d found someone and had several kiths by now. If I had stayed I might have been one of the lucky abb. As I was remembering her beautiful face and warm soft body curled around mine, Fergus came running in.
“Nebibi, come quick. It’s Mutt.”
I jumped up. “What about Mutt?”
“He’s been hurt. It looks really bad. I think he’s had it.”
He took off with me right behind. We crossed a patch of grass and came to a curb. I saw Mutt laying in the gutter, blood dripping from his mouth. But, his eyes were still bright and blinking and calm.
“Mutt!” I dropped down beside him.
“Hey kid. Forgot to zig after I zagged.”
“A car hit him,” Fergus said. “I saw the whole thing.”
“You’ll be fine, Mutt.” I lied.
“No, Kid.” He breathed hard and coughed blood. “I’m done for. Can’t move. Can’t feel nothing except this calm feeling like it’s all over and I can relax.” He coughed again.
“Don’t be stupid, Mutt, you’ll . . . “
“Don’t you be stupid. It’s okay. It’s been a good run. I had a ball, some of ‘em hairy.” He tried to laugh but coughed again. Then he looked up at me, his eyes fluttering. “Listen, Youngster, I’m very proud of you, you know that? Huh? You were a kith brain when you got here, and now you’re an amait, a real amait. Take my place, Kid. Be old Mutt the second. You can have my territory. Don’t even have to fight for it. You’d beat my ass anyway.” He tried to laugh again but went into a coughing fit. He looked at Fergus. “We had some times, didn’t we, Old Friend. Love you guys. Love you both.” And then he was quiet. The brightness of his eyes dimmed, and he slowly closed them and stopped breathing.
Bašar don’t know it, but amai can cry. I wept like I’d never stop, and so did Fergus. Laying there quiet and cold was the greatest amait either of us had ever known. That we’d miss him was a monumental understatement.
“What’ll we do with him,” I asked between sobs.
“We can’t do nothing. We can drag him out of this filthy place but we can’t do nothin’ else. We’ll just have to let some bašar take care of him, which will be a garbage bag and the dump.” Tears rolled down his face.
“Okay.” I continued to sob as we dragged his body out of the gutter and up on the grass. “He would think this was okay?”
“Yeah.” He trotted off toward the lakeshore and Mutt’s bush.
I studied Mutt’s crumpled, bloody body for a long time. Finally, I whispered, “So long, My Teacher. I’ll never forget you.” I gave that sweet crooked nose of his a last lick, then followed Fergus.
The next few days seemed to never end, Chubby. We couldn’t eat or sleep. We just laid around and stared at the nothing. Mutt was all we thought about, but his name never came up. Once in a while one of us started to blubber, and the other gave comfort. Fergus was worse than I was about crying, gushing tears and sniffling. They’d been together since they were kiths in the street. No brothers had ever been closer.
One night after bawling for hours, I said, “Fergus, I think I’m going to try to find Adele.”
He looked at me hard. “You’d go back to that khara? Living outta dumpsters? Come on, Nebibi, why’d you waste time here, then? You’d insult Mutt. He made you. You’d still be a mewing kith if it hadn’t been for him.”
“I know. I know all that. But, don’t you see Fergus, it’s because of Mutt that I can go back? I’m a match for any amait. I’m one hell of an amait because of Mutt. And you, of course. I can never leave you out.”
“Hey, I had nothing to do with it. I found you, but Mutt made you. I mean, hell, Mutt made me who I am. We both owe him, and going back to that soft, mushy life is not the way to pay him back.”
“Hey, I could be a teacher. I could teach those softies how to hunt and fight. I could carry on Mutt’s name.”
He was quiet. He stretched out, laid his head down and closed his eyes. I felt ashamed because I knew if Mutt was alive, he’d slap me to sleep for wanting to go back. Of course, I wouldn’t want to go back if he was alive. I still couldn’t get my head around the fact that he was gone. Not Mutt. He’d come around the corner in a minute, laughing and grabbing me and purring my ears off as he chewed on them. I’d learned so much from him, but I didn’t realize until he died that I loved him and that he’d taught me how to love.
“Come with me, Fergus.” I dropped down next to him.
“Not a chance, Nebibi. I’m an alley and this is where I belong. I’d kill or be killed five minutes after landing there.”
“I’d protect you. I love you as much as I loved Mutt, and I don’t want to lose you. Come with me, please.”
He looked up at me and laughed. “Now wouldn’t that be rich? You protecting me. You still sound like a kith brain at times.”
“Come on. Stay with this kith brain, Fergus.”
“Can’t do it, Nebibi. I’ve been here in this one place all my life, and to tell you the truth, I’d be scared khara-less anywhere else. You go on. I’ll be okay.”
“Well, I’ll be back. I promise. I’ll visit all the time.”
“No you won’t, Kid. We say that but we get busy in a new life, new friends, and our past becomes just that, the past. The new life becomes now, and now is what’s important. It’s right now we live in.” He paused and laid his head down again. “No. Once you’re gone, you’re gone forever. And I’ll miss you something dreadful for a while. But, it won’t be long before I’ll start a new lif
“I’ll never forget you or Mutt. Never.”
“Yeah you will. But that’s okay because that’s the way it goes with us amai. Short memory. It’s okay. It’s really okay.”
We spent the night together, hunted rats for the first time in days, and I took off before Tuyuur Song without waking him. And the farther I got, the crappier I felt for leaving, but I also felt I had to go.
Chapter 14
The cat is the only animal without visible means of support who still manages to find a living in the city. Carl van Vechten
It was Time of Owls when I got here. Nothing had changed: walls still crusty and filthy from crap spewed up by garbage trucks, goo slopped around stinking like rotten vegetables, meat and fish. Ah, I was home.
I headed to a dumpster halfway down the alley hoping to find Adele. Everything, even the dumpsters, looked cruddy in the dim yellow light. Some amai that I recognized were sniffing around the dumpsters, moaning and groaning about the slim pickings and how they’d go to bed hungry. I could have told them grub was crawling around under a couple of stuffed trashcans: two big plump rats that would make supper for at least two. And, I knew if they looked other places, rats and mice were everywhere just askin’ to be eaten. Why didn’t they grab a few and go to bed with a full belly? Poor kiths, I thought. They didn’t know squat about making it on their own.
~ ~ ~ ~
I heard Chubby give out a whiny warning. “You’re starting to tick me off, Gaylord,” he said.
“What? What did I say?”
“You’re sounding like a real snob. Like you’re the only one who knows anything.” He got up, looked me straight in my eyes with his one eye and added, “We can all hunt. We can take care of ourselves, too. Who do you think you are, anyway?”
“Hey, calm down. I was stuck-up. I admit it. But, that was then. I’m over that. Just let me finish, okay?
Chubby frowned at me, shook his head and laid down again. “Better be good, or you can leave. Now. And don’t come back.”
“Simmer down, My Friend. Let me finish my story. I think you’ll understand where I’m coming from.”
~ ~ ~ ~
When I sniffed the dumpster, about a million scent marks jumped up my nose. None were Adele’s. I even opened my mouth and tried to taste her. Under the dumpster a couple of kiths were tumbling around and purring. Mutt and Fergus shot to my mind and I felt tears welling up.