Moving on (to find my castlemate a castlemate)

In this next episode of my fake novel BRYAN THE TYGER, my lead actor dines with his supporting actor and decides it's time to go get his supporting actor an help meet for him, from among the animal kingdom. Let's hope this works out better for our ex-housecat than it did for the first human that God manufactured (see Genesis 2:20).

P.S.

In other news: my Public Private Diary is fully printed; also I made a list of my latest novels that have been printed but not included in any collection.

Chapter Thirteen

The pleasant sound of clinking silverware fills the dining hall, as I Bryan the Tyger and my friend Zephyros the Cat partake of a feast. The previous chapter ended by saying that we supped on kitty chow, but that was just a false lie for the sake of humor: in fact, we enjoy a nine-course meal of seafood.

I compliment our mechanical chef: “Devlin, this platinum arowana is superb.”

“Yes,” he replies, “you warned me that it would be difficult to obtain this item, as it is an endangered species and thus illegal to hunt, cook, or eat; but you commanded me to move heaven and earth to get one; so I did. I had to spend half of the total amount of caesars that you allotted me for this evening’s budget to bribe a Sentry in Asia: he then let me stand on the coast of the Sulu Sea, and I spearfished one, which became your current dish there; and I also netted thirteen ad­ditional arowanas and brought them back here — not for the sea that surrounds our peninsula (the sharks would only make short work of them) but I built an indoor ocean with a mirror above it and told the creatures to increase and multiply when I released them. I believe they are replenishing the Tame as we speak. That’s what I named the ocean: Tame Pond.”

“Really? You’re not kidding that this fish cost you 500,000 caesars!?” I exclaim. “Well, it was worth it; for it really is the best platinum arowana I’ve had this week. Remind me to program you to feel one transient pleasure on account of this deed.”

“So my action was passable?” asks the Devlin.

“Very good,” I say with a full mouth, nodding. “What do you say, Zephyros?”

“O gosh, it’s the best!” little Zephyros meows.

We also eat abalone; then we have octopus, and crayfish; giant squid, and mackerel that is truly holy.

“Zephyros, I’ve been thinking,” I hereby initiate a dinner conversation with my feline tablemate.

“Is that so, Tyger Bryan?” replies little Zephyros. “What is it that you have been thinking about?”

“I’ve been thinking that it is not good for you to be alone, here in this castle.”

“But I am not alone. You are with me.”

“Well, at this moment I am,” (I pause for effect,) “but there’s no way that I’m going to stay put for long.”

Little Zephyros just sits there, innocently blinking.

“You know what,” I rise from the table; “perhaps the best way to convey how I feel is to recite a section of Alfred Tennyson’s ‘Ulysses’ — for the voice that is tied in me begins to speak from his mouth:

How dull it is to pause, to make an end, 
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use! 
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life 
Were all too little, and of one to me 
Little remains: but every hour is saved 
From that eternal silence, something more, 
A bringer of new things; and vile it were 
For some three suns to store and hoard myself, 
And this gray spirit yearning in desire 
To follow knowledge like a sinking star, 
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

“So,” returning to the table with my fur now glowing brighter, I notice that little Zephyros has teared up, “I’m probably going to be leaving within a few days, once I tire of being cooped inside this castle with all its luxuries. There is no doubt that I’ll start longing for another tough adventure; and then you’ll be left alone, amid these echoing walls. Therefore, I think the best idea is to go out and find you a soul-mate. Maybe I’ll even make this my next Secret Mission. What do you say to that? Does this plan sound attractive?”

“O! yes, I’d like that,” cries little Zephyros the Cat; “if you’re sure that you’ll be traveling a lot, it’d be nice to have a partner to keep me company. This would help to pass the mornings, noons, and evenings; not to mention the stormy nights. Even tho it’s hard to grow bored here, because this castle is practically a museum on the inside, with all the books, paintings, statues, and films it contains; plus the animals in the sea surrounding the peninsula speak our native tongue very well, and they’re often excellent conversation partners; still, there’s something about having a companion of one’s own species that, in a way that nothing else can ever quite do, fulfills the kitty-shaped void in one’s heart.”

I place my napkin to the side of my plate on the table, after dabbing my ferocious Tyger-mouth, “Consider it done, then. My next exploit shall be to find you a suitable companion. — Now, does it matter to you about gender?”

“What’s gender?” little Zephyros raises his brow (the suburban family that raised him probably neglected to teach him anything about hot jungle politics).

“I mean, do you prefer your spouse to be closer to male or female?”

Zephyros pauses, deep in thought. “Are you asking if I want a kitty-cat who’s more like Mrs. Rebensdorf, or one who’s more like her husband?”

“Exactly,” I nod majestically.

“Oh, then I choose Mrs. Rebensdorf in a heartbeat. Hands down: whatever gender she is, I want that.”

“OK, then I’ll find you a female feline,” I say. “Now, can you think of anything else that you want?”

Zephyros pauses and ponders for another cute moment. (He’s an ex-housecat, so almost everything he does looks adorable.) “Maybe I’d like some milk in a saucer, too. That would be nice,” he meows.

“Alrighty, so, your order is: One feminine soul-mate, and a red saucer filled up with white milk,” I say. Then I rise from the banquet table, intending to exit.

“Ooh!” little Zephyros makes one last request as I’m leaving the dining area: “Could I also have a tweety bird? Or is it too hard to add this extra item to my wish-list?”

“A tweety bird?” I say, turning around at the doorway with an amused look on my face. “Sure! I’ll get you a tweety bird as well. — Now I bid you goodnight.”

“Sleep tight!” meows Zephyros. “And, thank you, Tyger Bryan!”