Lucy

by Chris Coppel

  Lucy, Angel, Rodney, and the three males were suddenly alone in the yard. They all looked to Angel with expressions of contempt.

  “So much for the rusted hinge theory,” the Rottweiler said sarcastically.

  “Well excuse me!” Angel retorted, “I only thought that . . .”

  “May I suggest,” Rodney said interrupting. “that you continue this fascinating little discussion once we’re on the other side of these walls?”

  Angel and the Rottweiler gave each other a brief look, then both began to laugh.

  “Come on then, let’s check out the city, shall we?” the lead Doberman said, excitedly.

  “On the double, if you don’t mind,” the Rottweiler said as they could now quite clearly hear the yelling and barking of Fat Man and Champ coming from inside what, only moments before, was their prison.

  “Right!” said Rodney. “Follow me!”

  With that, the six dogs marched across the sodden yard, out the partially open door and into the unknown city, and what they hoped, was freedom.

  CHAPTER 9

  Lucy’s first thought as she climbed the short flight of stone steps and walked out onto the cracked and filthy pavement, was that they were still inside the prison. They seemed to be surrounded by tall, scarred, brick walls. It was dark, gloomy and smelled of age and disuse. She was feeling an anxious gnawing in her stomach when Rodney nudged her with his tiny, sodden head.

  “So, what do you think of the big city, so far?” he asked in a serious voice.

  Lucy glanced down at him with a look of great concern on her face.

  “Don’t worry, Goldie,” he said, suddenly grinning. “It’s not all like this.”

  “He’s not wrong,” added the Rottweiler. “Some of it’s even worse!”

  The others all laughed at the expression of horror that crossed Lucy’s face.

  “They’re just having you on,” Angel said, as she glared with reproach at the others. “It’s not that bad a place really. We’re currently in what’s called The Docklands. It’s a bit smelly and run down, I’ll grant you, but some parts have been done up and are actually quite lovely.”

  “How do you always seem to know so much about everything?” Lucy asked.

  “I think it has something to do with the size of my ears in comparison to the rest of me. I just hear more, that’s all.”

  The others all laughed until Rodney, in a serious tone, pointed out that perhaps it would be advantageous to put some distance between themselves and their recent place of incarceration. They all nodded their agreement and decided to make Rodney their provisional leader. Angel was clearly far more book smart than the terrier, but Rodney had very recently, not only escaped from his captors, but had also, single-handedly made his way across the city and freed the entire canine population of the prison. He had certainly earned the leadership role.

  Rodney suggested that their priority was to get out of the Docklands then, when safe, decide on a more formal plan of action.

  The other inmates had formed into their own groups and were nowhere in sight. Lucy imagined they were probably all still running, and quite possibly were even out of the city by now. She had little idea of the actual size of London and thought that around just a few corners, there would be the rolling hills and sheltering woods of ‘her’ countryside.

  She was soon to learn otherwise.

  Rodney arranged the six in single file under the belief that they would be less conspicuous that way. They proceeded to walk along one brick wall, then stopped at the first corner. Rodney stepped out, and then almost instantly jumped back.

  “Blast it!” he whispered.

  The others all carefully edged up to the corner and peered around it. Skull Face and Squat Lady were roughly manhandling a pair of dogs back into what was apparently the front entrance to the prison. Fat Man and the Boxer were standing by the door, smiling as the escapees were forced back inside.

  “They’re simply going to restock the place and carry on as before,” the lead Doberman said, sadly.

  “And probably pup-nap more animals to replace those they can’t recapture,” the Rottweiler said.

  “They’ve got to be stopped,” Rodney hissed, through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe,” Angel interjected. “But not now and not by us. We just got out, and speaking for myself, I don’t wish to go back in just yet.”

  The others all murmured their agreement. Even Rodney begrudgingly had to concur.

  “Oh no!” Lucy exclaimed, “Look!”

  She gestured across the street from their concealed corner to a run-down entryway of what once had been the entrance to a factory office building. In the doorway, sheltered from the rain and totally preoccupied with her reflection in a piece of glass, was her cell neighbour, the Afghan.

  “Brilliant!” Angel snapped, sarcastically. “There stands probably the vainest, and clearly most stupid animal I have ever met!”

  “Psst,” Rodney hissed at the Afghan. It was pointless as the rain was drowning out most sounds.

  Lucy glanced over at the prison entrance and watched in horror as Skull Face and Squat Woman stepped back outside and began to scan the street for more escapees. The Afghan was until then, out of their view because of her position in the recessed entry, but as they all looked on in astonishment, the animal began backing into the street to afford herself a better reflection from a larger piece of glass.

  “Stay here!” Rodney snapped. He suddenly broke into a fast sprint heading back along the wall and away from the group.

  “Now what is he . . .?” Angel began.

  “Hold on a sec,” the Rottweiler said, grinning broadly.

  They all stood rigid, and waited as the humans continued to search, and the Afghan neared her backside closer and closer into their line of sight. Suddenly a loud yapping could be heard from the other end of the street. The two bipeds stopped and turned the other way. Even through the torrential rain, they could still make out the tiny shape of Rodney, as he hollered furiously at them.

  Skull Face and Squat Lady broke into a run of sorts, and headed towards the drenched Yorkie. Rodney waited just long enough to make sure that the bait was fully taken, then dashed around the far corner and out of sight.

  “Now! Quick!” the Doberman barked.

  The three males dashed across the street and to the total surprise of the Afghan, surrounded her on all sides, and marched her double time back across the street. They regained their corner just as Rodney reached them breathless, but clearly exhilarated.

  “I’ve left a good distance between us,” he panted. “but I think we should get a move on anyway.”

  There was no need for a vote on that and the group, now numbering seven, moved off as their newest member bemoaned her now drenched coat and soaking-wet paws. She was clueless as to just how close she’d come to being recaptured.

  Rodney led them along some dark and very oppressive alleyways and back streets until they came upon a most peculiar sight. They rounded a corner and entered a square. There were no gardens as would have been normal. Instead, in the centre of the square was a huge black, metal . . . actually, Lucy wasn’t sure what it was. She turned to Angel who veritably radiated importance as the others all turned to her for information.

  “That is an anchor,” Angel began. “Actually, it is only a sculpture of an anchor, as it’s clearly too large to have ever been used. This monument was dedicated in . . .”

  “Used for what?” Lucy asked innocently.

  “ . . . was dedicated in 1873 after the . . . ”

  “Used for what?” Lucy asked again, this time with determination.

  Angel simply stared angrily back at her.

  “I just wanted to know, that’s all,” Lucy said gently. “You said it was too large to have ever been used. I just wondered for what?”

  Angel seemed
to visibly melt before their eyes. A haunted look appeared on her face, and tears began to form and roll down her cheeks.

  “Angel, what is it?” Lucy asked stepping over to her. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing,” Angel replied sadly. “Nothing at all.” Angel turned her back on the group and moved over to a leaf-covered bench. She crawled under it and put her head down on her paws.

  Lucy turned to Rodney with a look of concern and confusion on her face.

  “I think perhaps that all these facts that she knows are just that. She’s memorised a great deal of information but doesn’t seem to really understand a lot of it.” Rodney suggested.

  “Is that bad?” Lucy asked.

  “It’s not exactly bad,” Rodney replied. “Just a shame, that’s all. If she went to the trouble of studying, it’s a pity she didn’t spend a couple of extra moments to comprehend it, as well as just memorizing it.”

  “I don’t see why she would . . . ,” Lucy began.

  “She didn’t learn what she knows for the knowledge it would bring to her, but for the prestige and popularity she thought would go with having it,” Rodney said. “She’s too young yet to realise that, whereas the knowledge would have lasted forever, the friendships founded solely on her ability to impress, would be very transient and short lived.”

  “Yorkie!” Lucy exclaimed, “That was beautifully put.”

  “She’s right Rod,” said the lead Doberman.

  The other Dobie and the Rottweiler nodded their heads in total agreement.

  “Very beautiful indeed,” said the Afghan almost dreamily. The others all turned to her in amazement to find that she was standing in front of a parked vehicle and was examining herself in the reflection of a metal disc in the centre of one of its circular rubber legs.

  The others all burst out laughing. Lucy then realised that their joy was not being shared by Angel, who was still lying dejectedly under the bench. She walked over to the Spaniel and eased herself down next to her.

  “You know, I think you’re very clever. Just because you don’t know everything, that doesn’t mean we like you any less,” Lucy explained.

  “I’m useless. How could anyone ever like me?” she replied.

  “Useless!” Lucy exclaimed. “How could you possibly think you were useless?”

  “I’ve always been useless. When I was a pup I was always getting into trouble, and my human used to . . . well . . . I just know I am that’s all.”

  “What did your human do to you?” Lucy asked, gently.

  “Nothing,” Angel replied with sad defiance.

  “Angel, tell me?” Lucy asked softly, watching as the other dog’s eyes began to brim with tears.

  “He used to beat me!” she sniffled. “All the time. It didn’t seem to matter if I was bad or not. He would just suddenly hit me, and yell, and sometimes even . . . even . . . sometimes he kicked me . . . hard. He hurt me Lucy. He hurt me very badly. Finally, one day he got really mad, and threw me outside. He never let me back in again. I had to run away to find food. Then humans in a big vehicle picked me up. They took me to a place that was filled with other dogs, who also didn’t have homes. I was in that place for a long time until this family came by and before I knew it, they took me to their home. It was wonderful and they really seemed to love me. But then—well, they must have changed their mind because . . . well, look where I ended up.”

  Angel began to cry almost uncontrollably.

  “It’s okay, Angel, you’re with friends now,” Lucy said nuzzling her neck.

  “If I believe that, you’ll just shut me out one day just like my family did. I trusted them and thought they loved me, then I ended up here.”

  “Your humans didn’t put you here,” Lucy explained gently. “You were stolen from them. I bet that right now they’re going mad trying to find you.”

  “You really think so?” Angel asked, between sniffles.

  “I know so,” Lucy said, giving the other dog a gentle lick behind the ears.

  They were interrupted by the sound of Rodney, noisily clearing his throat as he stood patiently with the others.

  “We’d better keep moving,” he said as he watched Angel trying to compose herself.

  “I feel so embarrassed,” Angel sighed. “What must you think of me?”

  “I think of you as a very sweet friend, who’s had a rough time of it, but whose life is only going to get better from now on,” Lucy replied. “In fact, look, the rain has even stopped.”

  “Thank you, Goldie,” Angel said with a brave smile.

  “Come on then, let’s keep moving.”

  They re-joined the others and set off again past the huge anchor thing, and the dark and abandoned warehouses.

  They soon heard a new sound. It was hard to place. Lucy sensed that it was a mix of sounds she knew yet couldn’t put the pieces together. There was a dash of the noise her pond made when the wind whipped the water into a frenzy and tossed it against the banks. Then there was a hint of the run-off, as the rainwater rushed down their narrow street, and vanished out of sight around the corner at the base of their hill. Whatever this new sound was it was getting closer, and louder. She glanced to the others but saw little concern on their five excited faces. Five!?

  “Where’s the Afghan!?” Lucy cried.

  They all stopped suddenly and looked about themselves, frantically searching for the other dog.

  “Great!” exclaimed Rodney. “If she can’t stay with us, we’ll have . . .”

  He didn’t finish his sentence, as the missing hound suddenly reappeared round a corner, a good distance behind them. She was humming contentedly to herself as she stared up at the patches of blue sky that were starting to peak out from behind the dark rain clouds.

  “Yo there Miss,” the Rottweiler called. “Would you mind staying with the group!”

  “Hmmm?” she replied distantly. “Have you ever noticed how blue the sky can be after a good rain? I often wondered how I’d look with blue eyes. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a few puppies short of a litter,” Rodney mumbled under his breath.

  “Shh,” Lucy said, trying to keep a straight face. “Why don’t you walk with Angel and I for a bit so we can have a nice chat.”

  Lucy could feel the incredulous glare she was receiving from Angel, without even looking at her.

  “Alright,” the Afghan said. “That would be nice.”

  The hound walked right past the group, and clearly expected Lucy and Angel to catch up. They gave each other a look of mild dismay, then shrugged and trotted after her. They could hear her as she chatted away, oblivious to the fact that no one was in fact walking with her. “ . . . at the Suffolk County fair, I took a second place,” the Afghan rattled on. “which was quite unfair as the winning animal, I felt, was of questionable lineage at best. I mean really…an English sheepdog with a French accent? I don’t think so. Sometimes the humans seem quite unaware of what they’re judging. I remember last winter at Crufts when I was up against a really, quite impressive Irish Wolf Hound, and as I . . .”

  Lucy couldn’t keep focused on the words of the other animal, as she droned on and on, telling of one beauty show after another. Lucy found that she could allow her thoughts to drift away, while the Afghan’s words played on in the background.

  She was back at the cottage lying in a patch of warm sun as it streamed in through the kitchen windows. Her Man was kneeling next to her, scratching her ears as they both watched Cook removing a fresh loaf from the oven. She could hear someone calling her name and wondered who it could be, then suddenly felt a sharp pain in her rump. She opened her eyes and spun round. Rodney was looking anxiously at her, and by his proximity, it was clear that he had just bitten her.

  “Ouch!” Lucy exclaimed. “What was that for?”

  “Step towards me very carefully,�
� Rodney said, in a forced, calm tone.

  “What are you . . . ?”

  “Now, Goldie! Don’t ask any questions. Just do it,” Rodney urged.

  “Oh, very well,” Lucy said as she stepped towards Rodney and the others. They all looked very relieved. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Suddenly, Lucy was deafened by a deep horn sound from almost directly behind her. She spun around and felt her knees go weak.

  She was mere inches from where the pavement they had been on, simply vanished. Lucy looked over the edge and saw a sight like nothing she had ever seen before. There was water. More water than she’d ever thought possible. It was a huge band of water that seemed to be moving slowly, carrying on it, strange vehicles with humans seated contentedly in and on them. There were little ones dashing in all directions, honking horns at each other, and there were big ones like the ones directly under Lucy’s nose at the base of the drop. It was massive and longer than many cottages put together. In its centre was a tall cylinder out of which trickled a thin plume of smoke. As Lucy watched, a sudden jet of steam appeared out of it, accompanied by the loud horn that had startled her before. She realised that had Rodney not alerted her, she would most certainly have fallen into the vehicle or into the moving waters of the . . . the . . .

  “Never seen the Thames before, I take it?” Angel asked, with a mix of relief and exasperation.

  “The what?” Lucy stammered.

  “The Thames River. The big, wet thing you almost fell into,” Angel stated with sarcasm.

  “Oh that,” Lucy replied, nodding her head knowingly.

  “You’ve never heard of it have you?” Rodney asked in a gentle tone.

  “Actually,” Lucy said, while still nodding. “No!”

  “Well, neither had I until yesterday,” Rodney reassured her. “How about you?” he asked, turning to the others.

  The three males shook their heads in unison, then looked to the Afghan who was again staring up at the sky.