Chapter III:
Conflictions

No longer hearing the sound of his mother’s heartbeat echoing in his ears forced Puss to lift his head, thus causing the other feline’s paw to slip and fall limp on her chest.

“Ma…”

The lump that presented itself in his throat made it impossible for him to even utter her name. You won’t see me cry now he thought as he leaned forward again, burying his face in her chest as he wept, grasping her paw tightly. He didn’t know how long he mourned at her bedside, but the next thing he knew was that he felt someone gently touching him on the shoulder. He lifted his head and partially glanced over his shoulder, his tear-flooded eyes making it a bit difficult for him to discern who was standing directly behind him, but he hardly cared. At that point, he was finding it difficult to breathe. He had to get away from there; he needed fresh air.

Brushing past his family, he snatched his hat from the bed and ran from the room, bolting towards the front door, desperate for open spaces.

0oooooooo0

Shrek and Donkey barely allowed themselves to breathe the moment they saw the window swing open. They pressed themselves as close as they could against the cottage, hoping no one stuck their head out the window, as they knew they’d be spotted.

As they listened to the words spoken from within the bedroom, their faces went through a variety of expressions. For the most part, they held expressions of remorse, but at times those expressions changed from shock, and then to a look of understanding. And once they heard their friend begin to weep, they knew the worst had happened. It wasn‘t long after this that they both heard the faint sound of a door slamming. Shrek inched his way across the ground and peeked his head around the corner of the cottage, catching sight of Puss running as fast as he could up and beyond the hill.

“C’mon, Donkey,” Shrek whispered to his friend as he got to his feet and dashed after the feline. Donkey followed closely behind, ducking as he walked past the window. Once they made it to the top of the hill, they instantly spotted Puss not far away, his arm draped across the trunk of a tree while he leaned his head against it, still crying, it seemed. It didn’t take long for the feline to detect their presence.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he said hoarsely, placing his hat back on his head. Suddenly realizing the direction the ogre and donkey had approached him from, his eyes narrowed. “What were you doing?”

Both his friends glanced at each other a bit sheepishly. “Well…we…” Shrek sighed. “A’right…we were sort of…eavesdropping.”

“Hisideanotmine,” Donkey uttered quickly, pointing a hoof at the ogre.

“Well, I must say, señor, you are having quite the invasive day, aren’t you? Reading my mail, spying on me during a very personal and private ordeal with my family…you must be exhausted.”

The ogre winced at the venom in the feline’s tone. “Look, Puss, you have every right to be angry, and I’m sorry.” Shrek paused for a moment before adding, “And I’m really sorry about your mom.”

“Yeah…me, too,” Donkey added quietly.

“We just felt like we had to be here,” the ogre added pleadingly. “We weren’t trying to make things difficult. I don‘t even know what I was doing, really.”

The cat sighed as he rubbed his forehead. “Look…I was not trying to be spiteful earlier when I told you to leave. It’s just that…my father isn’t exactly thrilled that I befriended an ogre, thus is the reason I did not want you around.”

Shrek rolled his eyes. “Oh, boy, here we go again.”

Donkey shook his head. “Man, you just don’t have luck with anyone’s folks. And this guy hasn’t even met ya yet.”

“I know, it’s a new record,” the ogre drawled.

“Boss, please don’t be angry with my father, either. If you knew him and knew of my family’s history, you’d understand.”

Shrek waved his hand dismissively. “Look, you don’t have to explain anything, a’right? I’ve grown numb to it.” Shrek shifted his weight from one leg to the other, awkwardness beginning to set in. “How…long were you working at a pub?”

Puss exhaled loudly.

“Sorry, sorry, I really shouldn‘t ask.”

“No, it’s fine. I started about two months ago.”

Shrek shook his head, still trying to digest all he had learned in just a day‘s time. “You should have told us.”

Puss shrugged. “Well…it really doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Ciro!” a voice called from the bottom of the hill, startling the trio. Puss looked on in the direction of the voice in alarm, knowing it was his father.

“Get behind that tree!” he ordered his friends, pointing to the massive oak tree just a few feet behind them.

“Puss, you don’t need to hide us from your dad.”

“Please, señor. I don’t think I have the mental stamina right now to deal with any sort of confrontation. Just…please.”

Shrek sighed, motioning for Donkey to follow him behind the tree. It wasn’t even three seconds after they took cover that a black and white cat appeared at the top of the hill. Both Shrek and Donkey found themselves staring in awe at the cat’s arm. At first glance, it looked as though the arm had been mauled, but as the cat came closer, Shrek was certain the injury was that of a serious burn. His own arm ached just looking at it, and it instantly had him racking his brain as to how he received such an injury.

“Ciro, come back inside. There’s a lot we need to do.”

Puss nodded, his attention on his boots. “I know…I just needed to get some fresh air.”

The older cat turned and began heading back in the direction of the cottage without another word. “Papá…” Puss quietly called after his father, though he drew a blank at what else he wanted to say to him. His father’s lack of reaction to seeing his son return home troubled him. He desperately yearned to hear a “It’s good to see you” or “Welcome home.” Anything, really.

Puss held his breath as he saw his father stop for a brief moment before then turning around and walking towards him, his expression still unreadable. He didn’t know what to expect at that moment, but when his father reached out an arm and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a strong embrace, he sighed with relief and content. He wasn’t sure if the embrace was comfort for their loss, or a gesture of welcoming, but frankly, he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around his father and returned the hug graciously.

“Come,” the older cat said quietly as he finally pulled away, turning to head back to their home.

“I’ll be in in a moment,” replied Puss. Once his father was out of view, he looked towards the tree where his friends had taken cover. “All clear.”

Shrek and Donkey stepped out from behind the tree. “Umm…what happened to his-” Donkey started, but Puss quickly shook his head, not wanting to discuss it. Donkey didn‘t say another word.

“Go home, señor. I can handle things here.”

“Are you sure?”

Puss nodded, smiling gently. “I need to be with my family for a few days.”

“Well…a’right, then. As long as you‘re sure?”

“I am. I appreciate your concern, though. I‘m just sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Shrek replied, returning the smile, though it was faint. He touched the top of Donkey’s head, nodding in the direction of the swamp. “C’mon, Donkey. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

Donkey lingered for a moment as Shrek went on ahead of him, glancing back and forth between the ogre and the feline with a look of confliction.

“Go on, amigo,” said Puss, nodding towards the retreating ogre. With a sigh, Donkey finally turned and galloped after his friend, glancing sadly one last time over his shoulder at the cat.

After watching his friends retreating forms for a short while, Puss turned towards his home, though he didn’t start walking back right away. He held out his paw, which still tightly clasped his mother’s necklace. He held the object in his gaze for the longest time, images of his mother, alive and healthy, flashing through his mind. He ran a finger over the smooth, golden stone, as well as its elegant frame. He then grasped the chain in both paws and wrapped it around his neck, clasping it in place.

He was fully aware of how feminine it must have looked, but he truly didn’t give a damn. If anyone hoped to remove that necklace from his neck, they’d have to kill him first.

With his precious memento secure, he made his way towards the cottage.

0ooooooo0

Shrek and Donkey were mostly silent as they followed the path back to the swamp. The sun had already set about an hour ago, and all they had as a source of light was the crescent moon. The ogre didn’t fear robbers and ogre hunters enough to want to make camp, but he was still cautious enough to be aware of his surroundings.

Shrek replayed Puss’ conversation with his mother again and again in his mind. Though he still felt a great sense of guilt at having invaded his privacy, he at least now had the answers to a lot of questions that had plagued the ogre’s mind for some time. It all made sense now. Often when they were still living in Far Far Away and also after they returned to the swamp, Shrek would notice Puss disappear for extended periods of time, usually never giving any heads up of his absence and was always very vague about his whereabouts when he would finally return. He had always assumed that the cat was just going out and having fun by getting himself into all kinds of mischief, but clearly that wasn’t the case at all.

All this time, if Puss was not helping Shrek on one of his quests or helping his family, he was instead going out in search of money to support his family and risking his own life to do it. He couldn’t even begin to fathom it. Now he understood why the cat often seemed so stressed.

Donkey finally broke the silence.

“I really do feel like an ass now,” he said. Shrek raised a brow as he looked down at his friend.

“Why?”

“Well…whenever Puss said he had to leave, sometimes I’d manage to get him to tell me he was going to the pub, but then when I wanted to go with him, he wouldn’t let me. I thought he was bein’ the ass. But he just didn’t want me to know he was going there to work. But I still don’t get it.”

“I guess it’s a pride thing,” Shrek replied with a shrug.

“What’s there to be ashamed of?”

“I don’t think it’s shame, Donkey. I guess he knew that if we found out all the measures he was taking to earn money, he knew we’d want to help, and it was something he felt he had to do on his own. I can sort of understand that.”

“Well I can’t,”

“Well, clearly his family holds a high opinion of him, and I’m just takin’ a stab in the dark here, but it seems like his father expects a lot from him, or Puss feels like he expects a lot from him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint him. He wants to be able to handle the responsibility of looking out for his family and making his father proud. I don’t know…I’m just trying to see it from his perspective.”

Donkey shook his head, still not really grasping the logic.

“Maybe Puss will be a bit more open about everything when he comes back.”

0ooooooo0

Fiona awoke to the gentle touch of someone’s hand on her shoulder. She looked over his shoulder with sleepy eyes, seeing her husband standing over her, smiling. She pushed back the covers and sat up, extending her arms over her head in a stretch. “When did you get home?” she asked before yawning.

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“Really? What time is it?”

“Almost four in the morning.” Shrek rubbed the back of his head as he gazed at his wife guiltily. “Sorry…I really shouldn’t have woke you.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” The ogress yawned. “You must be exhausted.”

“Naw, I’m a’right. But what about you? Were the kids a handful?”

Fiona smiled. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Shrek turned and walked over to the cot, looking over each infant snuggled together with a smile of content. He hoped he could maybe get in a few hours of sleep himself before they woke up. He sat down on the bed, kicking off his shoes.

“So, what happened? I really didn‘t expect you back this soon.”

Shrek looked over his shoulder at his wife, who was looking back at him with a mix of concern and curiosity. The larger ogre sighed as he shook his head.

“Oh, no, what happened?” Fiona asked quickly, turning her body completely around to face him.

“Well…his mom died shortly after he got there.”

Fiona covered her mouth as she gasped silently.

“Says he’s gonna have to stay with his family fer a few days to take care of things.”

“Well, of course,” Fiona agreed. “I hope he’s okay.”

As Shrek removed his alligator-skinned vest and prepared to lean back into the pillows, he was halted by the loud wail of one of triplets, which quickly woke the remaining two within seconds. The larger ogre sighed as he got up to tend to the children.

“No, honey, I’ll take care of them. You‘re exhausted,” Fiona protested as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“No, no, you took care of them all night. I’ve got this.”

“I said I’ll take care of it,” the ogress protested again in a bit firmer tone as she shoved her husband back onto the bed.

“A’right, easy there,” Shrek replied with a grin. He briefly watched as Fiona picked up two of the crying infants, shushing them quietly as she held them against her chest. “Let me help,” Shrek tried again as he stood up and picked up the third infant. He cradled the baby in both arms, rocking him slowly. Fiona didn’t protest this time, seeing that handling three crying babies wasn’t exactly easy.

“Why didn’t you stay?” she asked, returning to the previous subject.

Shrek kept his gaze on the infant in his arms, who was starting to calm down now, thankfully. “Well, when we got there, Puss wasn’t too thrilled to see us. He told us to leave.”

“And you just left?”

“Well, I started to…but I ended up staying behind a bit longer. We hung around outside.”

“I take it Puss found out?”

“Aye. But then he told to me his dad was the reason he didn‘t want me around.”

“Let me guess, he doesn’t like ogres?”

“You got it.”

Fiona nodded, not seeming at all surprised by the answer. She looked down at the infants in her arms, certain they weren’t going to go back to sleep any time soon. “They’re hungry. We better give them their bottles.”

0ooooooo0

It was all so surreal to him. Even as he helped his father and brothers lower the coffin into the ground, Puss still felt as though this was all in his head. He desperately hoped that at any moment he would wake up and find himself lounging comfortably on Shrek’s recliner, or possibly even wake up and discover he had never left home to begin with, while also finding that his mother was a picture of health.

Oddly, the day was beautiful. The sun was shining and the sky seemed bluer than usual. It was the kind of weather none of them expected for a funeral, as it was typical to rain on such occasions.

Puss tightened his grip on the flowers in his paw, knowing he was probably choking the life right out of them. The flowers had been picked from her garden, which was where she spent most of her time when the weather was right. Puss noted that the garden was still as beautiful as he remembered it being when his mother was taking care of it and figured his brothers had most likely taken on the responsibility of tending to it.

Once the burial was complete, the flowers were then laid, Puss needing a bit of a nudge from his father to lay his. He could hear words being spoken around him, though it was all muffled nonsense to him. As far as he could tell, there was no one there anymore, and eventually it came to the point where he truly was alone. He soon found himself sitting in the soft grass, his legs crossed and hat in his lap. His eyes would shift from one direction to the other, not really acknowledging what he was looking at. The slowly shifting shadows didn’t register with the cat, either, and soon enough, it was twilight. The off and on glow of the fire flies was already underway as nighttime approached, but Puss still did not move from his spot in the grass.

For just a moment, Puss drew his attention away from his mother’s grave and his eyes roamed over two much smaller graves that sat just to the left of his mother’s, the stones barely noticeable through the tall grass. Ever since he was a kitten, he had remarked the graves with curiosity and then later remorse. Now that his mother rested right next to them, the feeling it left in the pit of his stomach was difficult to determine. He knew one might look at it and see beauty and unity, but considering they all died long before their time, to Puss it was anything but.

Though Puss did not seem to take notice of his approach, Benito came to sit beside him, looking at him with concern. “Ciro, it’s late. We’ll be eating soon.”

Puss closed his eyes for a moment as he slowly returned to reality. “What…what time is it?”

“It’s almost eight o’ clock. You’ve been out here for five hours.”

“I have?”

Benito nodded, scooting closer to put an arm around his sibling. “I came out here earlier, but you didn’t answer me when I spoke to you.”

Puss slowly looked at his brother, looking a bit surprised. “Really? I…I don’t remember.”

Benito took his brother’s arm and stood up, helping the older cat to his feet. “Come on,” he said quietly, leading him to the back door. Once inside, they silently made their way to the kitchen, where their brother and father were preparing their meals.

Once everyone was settled at the table, they all took to eating their meals in silence. Puss found it unnerving. He was always used to excited conversations being shared at the dinner table, whether it was between his parents, him and his parents, or him and his brothers. Growing up, dinnertime was never a time of absolute silence. But though he found it uncomfortable, he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to speak. What could he say? What could anyone say? Having a wholesome, lively discussion (if possible) didn’t seem appropriate, given the circumstances that had brought on the silence.

Puss glanced at the end of the table where the empty chair resided, still finding it hard to believe that his mother no longer occupied it. He shifted his gaze to the opposite end of the table where his father sat, seeing that he held very little interest in the food on his plate, though he still forced himself to take a bite every minute or so. Puss next looked to Víctor, who was also looking his way, his eyes still holding their displeasure, much to Puss’ dismay. He looked down at his half-eaten meal in despair, placing his free paw to his forehead in an attempt to hide his brother from view.

Benito observed the behavior between his two brothers carefully, sending Víctor a scowl of his own, while also trying to send his older sibling a look of reassurance. He knew he’d be having a talk with Víctor before the night was over.

“Beni, Víctor, if you two don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Ciro alone for a moment.”

And it looked like now was his chance.

The two brothers stood up, pushed their chairs in, and filed out of the kitchen without a word. Once their father heard the sound of the front door closing, he looked to his oldest son, who was still looking at his plate, the apprehension in his eyes very clear.

“I’m not about to scold you, son, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Puss finally looked up to meet his father’s hard gaze. “Well…when I came home…you-”

“I know, mijo. I know it seems I’ve acted coldly towards you, but believe me, that was not my intent. This has all just really been hard for me to process.”

Puss nodded in understanding. “Yes, Papá.”

“I couldn’t be more proud of you, and I know your mother already told you how proud she was of you.”

His father suddenly frowned at the look of doubt on his son‘s face.

“I’m not a fool, Ciro,” he said sternly. “I know there’s friction right now between you and Víctor. Whatever he says, pay no mind to it. It is because of you that we’ve kept food on this table.”

Silence fell over the two momentarily.

“I can have a word with him if you want.”

“No, Papá,” Puss replied quickly, snapping his head up to look at his father again. “It’s between me and him. I am the one who needs to settle this with him…in my own way…in my own time.”

His father nodded.

“I sent a letter to Aunt Nina yesterday. Living so far away, it’ll probably be a few days before she gets it.” The cat sighed, tapping his food with his fork. “I really should have sent a letter the moment Catalina’s condition worsened. Whether she could have gotten here in time or not is beside the point. But anyway…I‘m sure she and your cousins will try to make it over here as soon as they get the letter. My guess is they‘ll probably be here sometime next week, given the distance they have to travel. I know you don‘t remember them. You‘ve only known them through letters. You were just a week old the last time your aunt saw you.”

Puss sighed as he pushed his plate away. “I’m afraid I’ll be leaving in the next day or two.”

“You’re not staying?”

“No, Dad. My friends are expecting me back in a few days.”

“Expecting?” Puss’ father replied with a hint of anger, cocking a brow.

“No, no, I mean I actually told them I’d be back in a few days.”

The older cat responded with a “hmph” as he took a sip of his milk. Puss rolled his eyes as he let himself fall against the back of his chair. “I knew this was coming.”

“Ciro, I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see your disapproval written all over your face. I had hoped that maybe you had gotten over it by now, but clearly I was wrong. Well, go ahead, Father, say it! Tell me how I‘ve dishonored the name “Puss In Boots” by befriending something as “wretched” and “evil” as ogres.”

“Boy, do not sit there and put words in my mouth!”

Puss crossed his arms. “Fine. Then prove me wrong. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you have no problem with the fact that my best friends are ogres.” Puss stared at his father with a hopeful gaze, eager to hear the words that he knew deep down would never be uttered from the older feline’s mouth. At least not at that moment in time. “I don’t know how I can get you to understand.”

“I think you are the one who is not understanding. Have you forgotten that ogres killed my father?”

Puss winced. “I know, Dad,” he replied as gently as he could, his eyes softening. “But…I still don’t believe it is justification for hatred of all ogres.”

The older cat only sighed, shaking his head.

“For the love of Perrault, Papá, do you not remember how infuriated you were when I had to put up with the prejudices of humans?”

“This is different.”

“How?!”

His father stared at him with a hard gaze but did not offer a rebuttal. He eventually looked down at his plate again, ears pinned in agitation. “Let’s just drop it. This is not the time to discuss this,” he finally said in a tone that Puss did not dare argue with.

“Fine.”

Puss started to reach for his glass, but then his eyes fell on his father’s scarred arm, which hung limp at his side. This didn’t go unnoticed by the older cat. “Lovely, isn’t it?” he asked dryly.

Puss quickly averted his gaze. “Sorry. Does it still hurt?”

“Not physically,” his father replied with clear disdain.

After a short pause, Puss gathered his plate and stood from his chair, making his way over to the counter and setting it aside. He glanced back at his father, whose face was now resting in his paw. The younger cat could feel every ounce of anguish that seemed to be radiating from his father, which added to his own despair. Exhaling, he slowly walked up behind his father and gently placed his paws on his shoulders.

“Things will get better.”

Oh, that’s genius, Ciro. Is that the best you can do?

“I’m not so sure they will,” his father replied quietly. “I always had hope that she would get better, but somehow I knew she wouldn’t come out of it. When you watch someone die in front of you, you think that with time you’ll come to accept it. They say people who know they are dying go through several stages…and the final stage is acceptance. I think the ones who watch those people die go through the same stages…but I’m afraid I never reached the stage of acceptance.”

Puss squeezed his father’s shoulders reassuringly, not sure what sort of words of comfort he could possibly offer to ease his despair.

“I thought I could. I thought that with time, it’d be easier to deal with. I thought I’d eventually get used to the idea of her not being here anymore. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

The older cat took a deep breath.

“Your mother was like no other. She was not what I was used to seeing in a female. My mother had always been submissive to my father, and if he raised his voice to her, she would always back down. But your mom…she didn’t take any gripe from anyone…not even me. If I snapped at her, she snapped right back. She always made me think twice about what I was about to say.”

“I know,” Puss replied as a smile crossed his face, but that smile quickly left him when he felt his father’s shoulders begin to tremble. Without thinking, he quickly leaned in and slinked his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

0ooooooo0

Benito’s ears twitched every time a stone bounced off the cobble wall of the well before finally hitting the water below with a soft splash. He looked over to his brother, who had been throwing stone after stone into the well for several minutes, though a fair bit of them had missed.

“This has to end,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“If it annoys you so much, then go back inside,” Victor growled, throwing another stone.

“You know that‘s not what I‘m talking about.”

Benito saw Víctor’s fur raise slightly, but he wasn’t about to heed the cat‘s physical warnings.

“You’re killing him, Víctor. Losing Mom is hard enough on him, and he certainly doesn’t need you acting like an asshole towards him right now.”

Víctor spun around and flung the stone in his paw at the offending cat, who managed to dodge it just in the nick of time before it struck him in the face.

“We needed him here!” Víctor shouted angrily in his own defense. “He should have been here all this time!”

“He had to leave,” Benito shot back, getting to his feet now. “Father urged it. He was carrying on the name. It was what he intended to do all along.”

“I don’t give a flying crap about the name! There are things more important than traditions, damn it!”

“You’re right,” a third voice interjected as the front door swung open. Puss stood in the doorway for a short moment, his attention entirely focused on Víctor. “Go inside, Beni,” he said as he stepped down from the doorway and slowly made his way towards Victor, who now stood with his arms crossed and a challenging look in his narrowed eyes. Stepping out from the shadow cast by the cottage, Puss’ eyes seemed to glow a neon green as the moonlight bathed his face. “Leave, Beni,” he said more sternly, knowing his other sibling was still watching them. He heard him give a defeated sigh, which was followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Víctor turned away before Puss could even start the conversation. “Leave me alone,” he said as he bent down to pick up another stone.

“Not until we settle things.”

Growling, Víctor threw the stone at the well. Puss closed the distance between them, placing a paw on his shoulder. Víctor instantly wrenched himself out of the touch, turning sharply and stalking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you!”

Puss grit his teeth as he marched after his brother. “Come back here and face me!”

“Stay away from me!” Víctor called back over his shoulder, picking up his pace. Letting out a loud, frustrated yell, Puss broke out into a sprint, quickly catching up with his retreating bother and planting himself directly in his path. They both stared each other down for a few moments, teeth bared.

“Move,” the younger cat spat dangerously.

“Make me,” Puss responded with equal challenge. Before he could blink, he felt himself being roughly tackled to the ground.

Author’s Note: Happy Halloween, everyone! Have fun trick or treating, or giving out candy, or just scaring the shit out of people tonight! :D Hope the weather doesn’t suck.

Oh, and today’s my last day as a twenty-one year old! I’m getting old WTF