Celine, Scion of Yorkshire by Anita Noelle Green, vanilla steamer

    The red barn’s morning sun reveals the overwhelming excitement and thin weight of sorrow present within the confines of the only home I’ve ever known. The giants have arrived with bright smiles. Mother sits glumly to the side awaiting the inevitable.

    It is upon this day I shall leave Mother. The giants have come to take us. It is time to evoke my powers of allure.

    My siblings beg and plead for their attention. Have they no dignity? I shall wait next to Mother with my pride still intact.

    I see Crispin has released his kisses of seduction upon the giants. A wise move. He is the first to be chosen.

    Elias has chosen the eyes of charm. Clever. He is the next one chosen.

    Gabrielle—gabbing Gabby—has chosen the siren’s call. She is chosen next. Good. That spell annoys me.

    A young behemoth runs her fingers through my coiffed hair. She lifts me into her arms. I hear the young one plead to its mother.

    “Oh, Mama! This one! She’s so cute! Can we get this one?” She exclaims excitedly.

    Yes, yes! My chosen method is working.

    “The runt? Are you sure? She’s so much smaller than all the rest, honey,” her father butts in.

    Runt? How dare he!

    “But she needs to be small to catch all the rats,” the girl protests.

    Catch rats. Yes, just as Mother taught us.

    “Sarah has a point, Hugh. Besides, you told Sarah she could help pick the puppy,” her mother says.

    “Oh, all right,” Hugh concedes.

    That’s right, Hugh. Listen to the wise.

    Sarah holds me in her arms. My head slumps over her shoulder as I’m carried away. Mother and I catch each other’s eyes and exchange our final looks of goodbye. She tries to give a hopeful look through her misty eyes and drooping ears.

###

    Sarah holds me snugly in her warm arms as we make our way through the filthy streets to my new forever castle.

    “What should we name her?” Sarah’s mother asks.

    Celine. My name is Celine. I use my powers of telepathy to convey this to them.

    “What about Sparky?” Hugh suggests.

    Sparky? No, Celine!

    “Do you really think she looks like a Sparky?” The mother asks. “What about something a little more regal, like… Sophie?”

    Okay, we’re getting closer… kind of.

    “Regal? Rose, she’s a dog for goodness sake!” Hugh scoffs.

    “What about Cece?” Sarah suggests.

    Cece? Hmph. Well, all right. I’ll take it.

    “Cece…” Rose chews it over. “I like it.”

    “Cece it is then,” agrees Hugh.

    I reward Sarah with a kiss.

    “Cece seems to like it too!” Giggles Sarah.

###

    It is a grand castle. Much different from the one I’m used to, but rather fitting for one such as myself. An ornate rug red runs from the entrance of the home to the polished flooring. They really went all out for my homecoming, but I would expect nothing less. My nails click against the oak floors. Rays of sunlight pierce through the reading room to my left.

    “Let’s go to my room, Cece!” Sarah says excitedly. She runs up the staircase lined with same material they used for my formal entrance. I happily chase after her.

    I dart after her into her room. Beams of light breathe through the white muslin curtains billowing from the large window in the corner. The walls are painted an appetizing mint. A large bed hides behind a tall four corner canopy draped in a sheer pastel pink mosquito net. The room turns into a sudden blur as Sarah twirls me around. Her dark ponytail flies behind her. The only thing in focus is her freckled, adolescent face smiling at me. It is as though I’m in a spinning globe and Sarah is the center of my world.

###

    The next morning, Sarah and I awaken to a knock on her bedroom door.

    “Come on, Sarah, it’s time to get up,” Hugh says as he walks through the door.

    Sarah reaches for the sky with a long stretch and wide yawn. I follow her lead and straighten my legs across the soft cotton bed.

    Hugh trudges over to me and plucks me from my resting place.

    “What’re you doing, Papa?”

    “I’m taking her to work.”

    “But we just got her!” Cries Sarah.

    “She’s a working dog, Sarah. Not a lapdog. I need her at the mill. We’ve talked about this,” Hugh says sternly.

    She gives a sad sigh, “All right… You be good for Papa, Cece.” She gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead.

###

    When Hugh and I arrive at mill, I’m met with a rude whirring of contraptions. The big giants are tending to the noisy machines. There are younger ones present, as well. Some of them appear to be Sarah’s age, though some of them are even younger. Skittering around the feet of the giants are the filth I have been hunting since I have been able: rats.

    Hugh sets me down on the ground. “All right, you know what to do. Get to work.”

    I race for the one nearest me, snapping its neck within my jaw. I toss it aside and move on to my next victim. Two, three, as easy as lapping up milk.

    The remaining vermin do a coordinated scatter; I sprint after them. They slip into a hole in a corner wall just out of my reach. I quickly shove a paw in, hopelessly gnawing at the hole.

    There is an eerie silence. I take a couple of steps backward. Just as I am about to direct my attention elsewhere, a strong, bulbous rat easily nearing half my size squeezes through the hole in the wall: the rat king.

    His once-dark coating is wizened with streaks of silver. He props himself up on his hind legs, “Who dares disturb my kingdom?” His voice rings with regal authority.

    “‘Tis I, foul beast. I, Celine, Scion of Yorkshire, have come to bring your demise. Your reign of terror ends now,” I proclaim.

    “You? Pah! Step aside, pipsqueak. Leave now--else I end you,” the rat king balks.

    “You end me? And how do you propose to do that? I am nearly twice your size!” I laugh.

    “Cease now, Celine, and I shall spare your life.”

    “You bring disease and contamination to the kind giants. Do you not feel it in the air? Your quietus is here,” I say.

    “Then I, Ratagast—King of Rats—shall grant you your death wish.”

    The rat king pounces at me sending us into a tumble. He sinks his incisors into my chest. I release a loud yelp. I clench him by the nape and rip him from my chest, slamming him against the nearby wall.

    He staggers to his feet. We steady ourselves, staring each other down. Ratagast gives a smirk.

    “Something funny, Ratagast? Does death bring a smile to your face?” I say mockingly.

    “Why, yes, Celine, it just so happens that it does,” Ratagast sneers.

    I feel a low vibration underfoot. It rolls into a thunderous, rapid rumble. I look behind me and see a stampede of rats. Before I have time to retreat they are upon me. Each bite like a dagger, piercing me. As quickly as I toss one off, another descends upon me.

    I’m overwhelmed. Drowning in a blanket of rats. I cry and scream. I am alone being swallowed into a smothering, writhing darkness.

    “Git. Shoo!” I hear a familiar gruff voice yell.

    A large hand scoops me up from a pile of rats dripping from my body.

    “There, there, girl. Let’s take you home.”

###

    I awaken to a bloodied, warm cloth gently rubbing against my fur. Every nick and scratch pulses.

    “Will she be all right, Papa? Will she make it?” A fretful little voice whispers through the strokes of the cloth.

    “I think so, honey. But she’ll need some time.”

    The heavy weight of sleep washes over me.

###

    I awaken atop a familiar soft bedding. A gentle breeze and soft ray of light reveals the lovely young face I shall never tire of seeing, peering down at me.

    “Cece! You’re awake!” Sarah exclaims. She smothers me in kisses as I lather her in mine.

    She reaches to pick me up, but I yip from my stinging injuries.

    “Oh…” she whimpers sympathetically.

    Sarah leaves the room and returns with a bowl of water setting it in front of me. I lightly lap it up before resting my head down on the bed. She sits on the floor in front of me and runs her soft fingers like kind secrets through my fur. I slip into another deep rest.

###

    This time I awaken in the most undignified manner I’ve ever experienced: I’d soiled myself.

    I stagger to my feet and pounce to the floor. Oof. I take a moment’s rest before I wobble to my feet again.

    Sarah returns to the room. “Oh, poor girl… let’s get you cleaned up.” She effortlessly picks me up. There’s still a dull ache pulsing through my body, but I bare it. She brings me to the kitchen sink and runs the water warm. It isn’t the most comfortable experience, but I’m too weak to resist. After Sarah finishes rinsing me she rubs me dry with a towel, I note patches of pink are left behind on the cloth.

    Sarah brings me to the reading room where Rose is found reading a book on the corner of the couch nearest the window. She is wearing a light blue tea gown. Her dark brown hair—the same color as Sarah’s—is neatly pinned in a fashionable updo. The sunlight bathes her in a light glow. The sight is comforting.

    “Oh, my sweet girls. How’s she doing?” Rose asks.

    “Better, I think. She’s cleaner, anyway,” Sarah responds.

    “ I can see that,” she says with a light giggle. “Come, sit with me. I’ll read the two of you a story.” Rose pats the beige brocade couch. Sarah rests her head on Rose’s lap as I nuzzle beside Sarah’s torso. Rose begins to read us The Epic of Gilgamesh.

###

    The next day, I find I’m regaining most of my strength. Sarah can tell. She carries me down the stairs, past the reading room where we once again find Rose.

    “I’m going to take Cece outside,” Sarah says.

    “I’ll join you. We can have lunch outside,” Rose responds.

    Sarah takes me out to the green front lawn. Rose brings out a silver tray with sandwiches and tea. She sets down a parasol and sits underneath it in the grass with her book.

Sarah finds a long brown stick she seems to like. I don’t know why, but she keeps throwing the thing. She seems to like the stick, but she can’t seem to keep hold of it so I bring it back to her over and over again. I don’t understand giants.

    “Don’t be too rough with her. She still needs time to heal,” Rose calls.

    Sarah giggles as we run through the yard. I heed the advice of Rose and eventually rest next to her. Her delicate hand strokes my fur. The day of relaxation prepares me for tomorrow’s impending battle.

###

    I recognize the knock on the door the next morning. Before Hugh enters, I sit up proudly on the edge of the bed. I know what is expected of me.

    “Here, girl,” Hugh calls me to his side. Like a noble knight, I obey.

    “Are you sure she’s ready, Papa?” Sarah sits up in her bed and asks.

    “She should be. I need her to be. We need her to take care of the rest of the vermin.”

###

    As Hugh enters the shop, I closely follow behind. As I make my entrance, it is as though I’m stepping through a film of grime veiling a corrupt domain. Scat litters the floor. An air of Ratagast’s triumph still lingers overhead.

    A couple rats turn their heads towards me.

    “Back for more, I see,” one of the rats taunts. It’s jagged, yellow teeth hang over its bottom lip like stalactites.

    The two charge at me. I steady myself. The chatty one lunges at my face as the other pounces on my torso. I quickly pivot sending the talker sprawling across the ground. The other still manages to sink its teeth into my torso. I release a brief cry before tossing it in aside and ripping out it it’s jugular. Its sinew drips from my jaws. The chatty rat scurries off to the corner hole in the wall. I’m hot on its tail. It bolts through narrowly avoiding my grasp. I take a quick step back readying myself for what is to come.

    Ratagast once again shoves his body through the hole. He bellows a maniacal laughter, “You must be a glutton for punishment. Foolish, mutt. You should never have returned.”

    “Your reign ends tonight,” I declare.

    “Didn’t you say the same thing last time? My kingdom has flourished in this land for generations. I will end you,” Ratagast bares his serrated teeth and furrows his brow into a devilish stare.

    The both of us charge after one another. We simultaneously lunge and meet midair. He digs his teeth into my nose. I sink my jaw into his torso.

    A warm rill drips across my snout just as blood oozes from the puncture wounds left on Ratagast’s belly.

    I notice Hugh sliding a wooden contraption in front of the hole. Ratagast turns his head to look behind.

    “Hah! You think one rat trap will bring an end to my dynasty? There are dozens of us!” Ratagast jeers.

    He stands up on his hind legs his front claws outstretched. I bolt after the king. He narrowly misses my bite as he pounces to my face leaving a gash underneath my eye. His tail hovers momentarily over my snout, long enough for me to take hold.

    “Arrrgh!” He cries.

    I swing it violently from left to right, left to right, left to right and slam him against the wall. As he stumbles to his feet I lunge towards him. His neck falls squarely into my jaw. With all my strength I clench my teeth together. A warm gush of liquid spills from my mouth. As I open my jaw as his black and silver head rolls to the floor.

    I look to the hole in the wall. Several horrified faces are jammed against the entrance fixed on the sight before them. I make an intimidating flex towards them. They scurry away. Cowering deep into their shadowy home.

    “Good girl! Good girl!” I hear Hugh’s voice call out. He picks me up and gives me a proud pat on the head. “I’ve been trying quite some time to get that big fella and you got him!”

###

    That evening, I return home with Hugh like the proud warrior I am.

    Rose and Sarah give us a warm greeting.

    “Cece got him! She managed to get that fat old rat I’ve been trying to get rid of for ages!” Hugh announces.

    “Good girl!” Exclaims Rose.

    “Good girl, Cece!” Praises Sarah. The two shower me with approval.

    “See, Papa. I knew she was the one,” smiles Sarah.

    I look upon their faces with grand satisfaction. I am Celine, scion warrior of Yorkshire.

 

Bio:

Anita Noelle Green (she/her) is a transgender woman. She has a BA in Sociology. Her work has been featured in Tiny Seed Journal, Cathexis Northwest Press and Beyond Queer Words.

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