Helper, Carer, Fiend

Helper, Carer, Fiend

By Steve Laker

Chloe gazed at Lucy across the dining table. She was everything to
Chloe, her life even. Lucy had only been around for about a year, but
it felt like a lifetime. And a wonderful lifetime at that, despite all
the tragedy that had befallen her over the last year. Lucy had been
there for her. Now she played many roles in Chloe's life, including
mother, sister and best friend. Even though it was only around a year
ago, Chloe couldn't remember how they'd met. It was as though before
Lucy there'd been nothing.

Lucy had just cooked the most amazing meal for Chloe's fourteenth
birthday. It had been just the two of them. Chloe didn't like her
friends coming round, preferring Lucy's company, and preferring to keep
it all to herself. Lucy was twice Chloe's age, but she understood Chloe
in a way that none of her other friends ever could. Lucy was so
intuitive. She always seemed to know or sense what Chloe wanted,
sometimes even before Chloe knew herself it would seem.

Lucy was beautiful too, and Chloe aspired to be just like her. They had
the same jet black hair, and Chloe was growing hers to the
shoulder-length that framed Lucy's face like a portrait when she wore
it loose, as she was now. Her skin was perfectly smooth, and a kind of
brownish white colour. She could have stepped straight out of a
Victorian photograph, her sepia features broken only by her piercing
blue eyes. She never wore make up, and if she were to do so it would
detract from her natural beauty. Her fingers were slender and gentle
looking, her nails perfectly manicured. But it was her face that held
Chloe transfixed. She could stare at Lucy for hours, aspiring to look
like her, studying her. Her beauty was mesmerising, and behind those
eyes lay a deep mind, full of wisdom. There was so much more that Chloe
wanted to know.

Chloe was woken from her daydream as Lucy smiled and excused herself
from the table. Even the way she walked was somehow graceful, her long
skirt clinging occasionally to her thighs, just long enough to offer
any admiring man a glimpse of the perfect body beneath those flowing
clothes. There was no man in Lucy's life though. On the one hand Chloe
found this strange, as she knew that Lucy had many admirers. Conversely
though, she couldn't have got through the last year without Lucy's
undivided attention. With her perfect figure, Chloe wondered why Lucy
didn't flaunt herself occasionally. But then Lucy was modest in every
respect, always wearing long skirts and high-necked sweaters with long
sleeves.

Chloe heard Lucy climb the stairs, potter about for a while, and then
the sound of splashing water as she turned on the shower. The evening
had been perfect, and Chloe was tired from the excitement. She smiled
contentedly as she closed her eyes and began to reminisce about her
time with Lucy.

Only when she'd gone back in her mind through the meal she'd just had,
the film that Lucy had taken her to see earlier, and the shopping trip
they went on that morning, did her thoughts arrive back before all the
excitement. Once again she realised and appreciated Lucy's ability to
make her life so intense that she could live the day and forget all the
yesterdays. It was less than three months since a hit-and-run driver
had killed her father. But she was over it now to the extent that she
had somehow almost forgotten it, such was the healing power that Lucy
provided. It was devastating at the time, being so sudden and coupled
with the fact that the police didn't catch the culprit. It was made
worse still as it had followed the death of her mother only six months
before. She'd died peacefully in her sleep, although the inquest
recorded an open verdict, the Coroner being unable to determine a cause
of death. She thought what it must have been like for her dad, waking
up next to mum and finding her dead beside him. Lucy had comforted and
supported him through the period that followed, just as she had when he
lost his job a month before. Her dad could see a lot of her mum in
Lucy, as the two of them had been such close friends and Lucy had taken
on some of Chloe's mum's traits. From then on, Lucy had become a mother
figure, as well as everything else.

Further and further she regressed, reliving family trips to the zoo,
the cinema, the shops, so many happy days out. Being an only child,
Chloe grew to love Lucy as an older sister. It was only a month or so
after they had all met that Lucy's boyfriend had thrown her out and
Chloe's mum invited her to stay with them. Chloe was so happy that day.
Her new best friend, and her mum's too, was coming to live with them.
Then Chloe remembered how they'd met in the first place.

It was a year to the day; her thirteenth birthday and Chloe's parents
had taken her to a swanky restaurant. She'd knocked over the salt
cellar and her mum told her to throw the salt over her shoulder. She'd
asked why, and her Mum said that it would land in the Devil's eye and
keep him away. Chloe had chuckled at this, as if the Devil would be
walking past at that precise moment and she wouldn't notice him, all
red-skinned, with horns, hooves and a pointy tail. Her mum had said
that just like God, the Devil was all around and could assume any form
that he chose. Unlike Chloe, her mum was a little religious, or at
least superstitious. The flying salt had taken Lucy by surprise as she
hurried by innocently, and was suddenly showered with the stuff.
Chloe's Mum had instantly rushed over to apologise, but Lucy had been
really sweet. The two of them talked, and eventually swapped phone
numbers. They stayed in touch, and that was the beginning of the whole
relationship.

Chloe woke with a start, and instinctively rushed upstairs to tell Lucy
all about their anniversary.

The bathroom door was ajar and Chloe peered in. She could just make
Lucy out through the steam and the frosted glass shower door, but the
silhouette was black. Opening the door wider, the steam dissipated into
the hall, allowing Chloe a clearer view. She was not mistaken. The
figure behind the glass was black. She was transfixed as a shadowy arm
reached up and turned off the water. Fear, fascination, something was
rooting her to the ground. Then the shower door opened and Lucy stepped
out. Chloe wanted to scream, but she was frozen. She looked at Lucy's
face, a delicate sepia colour as always, smiling back at her. But her
chest and her shoulders, her arms and legs were covered in hair. Not
normal hair, but thick wiry hair, like that of a horse, almost like
fur. As she stood and stared, Chloe managed to force out the only two
words repeating themselves over and over in her head: "Lucy". "Fur".
"Lucy". "Fur".

? Steve Laker, 2000.