HIS MAJESTY
MARIE-ANGE GUILLAUME AND HENRI GALERON
• HIS MAJESTY
MARIE-ANGE GUILLAUME AND HENRI GALERON
TRANSLATED BY SIMONE KEARNEY
• ADAPTED BY LIZZ BRADY
HIS MA TRANSLATED BY SIMONE KEARNEY ADAPTED BY LIZZ BRADY
LC CONTROL NUMBER: 0000000000 / ISBN 978-1-937075-02-6 / PUBLISHED BY FINE & KAHN, L EDITIONS DU PANAMA, 2008, UNDER THE TITLE MONSIEUR / THIS EDITION © EDITIONS DES GRA © 2014 BY FINE & KAHN, LLC / ADAPTATION © 2014 BY FINE & KAHN, LLC / ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. / P
AJESTY WRITTEN BY MARIE-ANGE GUILLAUME ILLUSTRATED BY HENRI GALERON
LC, NEW YORK / A PREVIOUS EDITION OF THIS BOOK WAS PUBLISHED BY PATRICK COURATIN, ANDES PERSONNES 2011, PARIS, FRANCE UNDER THE TITLE MONSIEUR / ENGLISH TRANSLATION PRINTED IN CHINA. / FINE & KAHN AND THE FINE & KAHN COLOPHON ARE REGISTERED TRADEMARKS
I live in my cat’s house. He rents me a pillow, but the rest belongs to him: the plants, the fridge, the clothes in the closet, the sofa, the guests on the sofa, the computer‌and the mouse, of course. In exchange for a few small favors (the cooking, the cleaning, and waiting on him paw and foot), he has generously agreed to let me stay with him. He keeps me warm during the winters and even warmer in the summers.
His Majesty is a fierce predator. Watch as he leaps to capture a fly and his toy monkey from even the highest shelf. CRASH! His Majesty’s eyes flash with disapproval as he inspects the jam, flour, and olive oil now coating the kitchen floor. The fly still buzzes overhead. Twitching his nose like he has just smelled an especially stinky fart, he thrusts his head in the air and stalks off to a tidier place. This calamity and filth will not stand—His Majesty is extremely clean.
His Majesty also has the exacting eye of an artist. Every night I straighten the picture frames on the wall, but by morning he has firmly reminded me that they are meant to be crooked. Did I mention that he’s also a food critic? He appears on the table the second I sit
down to eat my meals and pouts if I don’t offer him the first bite. Sardines with green beans are his favorite (until they aren’t). I try not to get insulted when he sneakily hides bits of them around the house.
Between you and me, His Majesty needs to work on his manners. At least when Norton the dog wolfs down a stolen wheel of Camembert he has the decency to hang his head. His Majesty will show no such
shame when caught. “So what?” His Majesty’s stance suggests as he plops down and calmly starts licking his bottom.
His Majesty loves to dance and never misses a late-night tango. Hopping and shimmying, his hair standing on end, he prances back and forth in front of Norton’s snout until the dog sighs and climbs to his feet. Then His Majesty spits in Norton’s face and steals his bed. How rude! Naturally, His Majesty’s own sleep goes undisturbed—he has a secret spot.
Each morning, at 6:20 a.m. sharp, he leaps into the air and crashlands on my stomach. I yelp, and once he’s satisfied that I’m alive, he stretches out on my face for the first of many naps, proclaiming
that my head makes the softest cushion. I would protest, but he probably wouldn’t hear me over the sound of his purring. Besides, I wouldn’t want to offend him.
You see, sometimes His Majesty disappears. Is he under the bed? No. In the closet? No. On the sofa? No. Behind the curtains? No. I grow alarmed. Is he fed up with the service here, I wonder? Has he found a new home? And then suddenly, there he is. “But I’ve been here the whole time,” he shakes his head. “I swear it.” His Majesty is a giant mystery.
HIS MAJESTY
MARIE-ANGE GUILLAUME AND HENRI GALERON
• HIS MAJESTY
MARIE-ANGE GUILLAUME AND HENRI GALERON
TRANSLATED BY SIMONE KEARNEY
• ADAPTED BY LIZZ BRADY