Annie Morphs 08

Bear-Face Cheek

When I got out of the shower I realised I’d left my towel in my bedroom. I ran there, in the hope of keeping my dripping on the carpet to a minimum, and quickly picked it up off my bed and dried myself off. That was when I noticed that my phone – that I still insisted on charging in an old speaker dock next to my bed – had received a voice mail.

‘GROWL!’

‘Are you there? Pick up you idiot – I can’t hold my phone properly, I’m not going to be able to do this again. I think Siri has it in for me. Or alternatively, if you’re genuinely not there, come round to my house as soon as you get this message. I need a little bit of help. Right, “Siri: hang up.” I said “hang up”. Oh, for goodness’ sake, “hang uh-!”

It was Annie’s number, but the voice didn’t sound like her. It spoke like her, it’s just that it was much deeper and guttural. Animalistic. Then again, my friend Annie was a shapeshifter, so it wasn’t impossible that she actually was an animal. And a big one too from the sound of it. I got dressed, got organised, and headed off to her house just as she’d asked. I wondered what I’d find.

It was only a short walk over to Annie’s. She usually had her back door open, so I went through the gate to the garden at the rear of her house and made my way there. I announced my presence with a ‘rat-a-tat-tat’ and entered.

The kitchen was in disarray. There was broken crockery over the floor and worktops. A fruit bowl was upended and the remains of its contents – squashed bananas, apple cores and shredded orange peel – were strewn in every direction. Cupboards hung open and the fridge door was prevented from closing by a large plastic bottle of milk, now empty, a large white puddle spreading out underneath it. It looked like someone or something had run wild in here.

‘Is that you? I’m in the living room.’ The growling voice from the phone sounded even more unsettling up close. Nevertheless, I headed toward it.

It’s not as much of a surprise as you might think to find a huge brown bear in Annie’s house, even one slumped on a torn and slashed sofa. Annie had been all sorts of animals in the time I had known her, so a bear wasn’t too much of a stretch. What was a little odd was that this bear still had Annie’s face.

‘Wotcher!’ said Annie’s very human mouth, albeit with a rumbling ursine accent. ‘Thanks for coming over. I have a favour to ask.’

Then, rolling her huge hairy mass sideways, she tumbled off the sofa, smashing into the accompanying coffee table and reducing it to firewood. For all its clumsiness, this was clearly a deliberate move and Annie quickly reasserted herself and stood on her rear paws. As she stretched up she towered over me, reaching at least seven feet in height.

‘I’m not sure this is the best environment to be a bear in.’ I said, trying my best not to appear intimidated. ‘Don’t you have a cave nearby where you can grizzle – or whatever it is you do – to your heart’s content.’

Annie didn’t become a large animal all that often, but when she did she usually did it somewhere appropriate: a hippo in a river or a tiger in the forest, for instance.

‘Ah, I didn’t exactly plan this transformation,’ she replied. ‘I was having a bear dream when I was woken by my alarm this morning. By the time I’d come to my senses I realised I was a bear and I was too big to get out of the house.’

‘So change back before you wreck any more of the house.’

It was quite something to see a bear looking sheepish, but this one had Annie’s face so it was unusually expressive. I quickly picked up on what that look meant.

‘You can’t change back?’

‘I’m sure I can – in theory – but I’m having a bit of difficulty at the moment. My face seems responsive enough…’

And to make her point, Annie closed her eyes and frowned. The growl that had always been at the edge of her voice became more prominent and her powerful, bear body tensed up with effort. As the growl got louder, brown fur, matching that which covered the rest of her form, quickly spread over the pink skin of her human face. Although it wasn’t human for long. In seconds, a snout formed, causing her to snarl with a gaping feral mouth. Fangs elongated and her jaw reshaped, causing her ears to rise up the sides of her head. No sooner had they grown pointed and reached their highest position, flexing into points, than they shrunk back down and became human-like again. The fur on Annie’s face disappeared and her eyes widened as if in surprise. But this was more like an exercise to restore the odd-looking naked snout to more human proportions. A few further wrinkles of her forehead and a pursing of her returning lips and Annie’s face was recognisable once more. But only her face.

‘...but only my face. I can’t do a thing with my body. Oh, except for my left foot.’

She paused to demonstrate, raising the paw she was standing on and rotating it. With this encouragement, it shrunk and became a recognisably human foot for a second or two, before sprouting fur and claws once more. Annie lowered it and regained her balance on both paws.

‘All of which isn’t particularly convenient as I’m sure you’ve realised.’

‘How has this happened?’ I asked.

Annie scratched her tiny nose with a giant bear claw. ‘I have a theory. You see, during my dream, which was all very pleasant and comfortable and filled with honey, I was getting ready for winter. So I have a nasty suspicion that my body is hibernating.’

It’s always difficult to separate different levels of unlikeliness when you’re dealing with a person as impossible as Annie. And I don’t mean ‘impossible’ as in difficult to deal with, I mean literally impossible.

‘Are you sure? How do you figure that? You seem to be moving about ok.’

‘Yes, but very sluggishly and I’ve felt really tired ever since I woke up. I think that the only way I’ll be able to transform back is if I let my body have the rest that it desperately needs.’

It was at this point that I realised I’d been caught in a bear trap. Annie didn’t say a word, but she was looking at me pleadingly. God, that looked so weird perched on top of a body that could kill me without a second thought.

‘Oh no, I have my own life to lead. There is no way I’m spending months looking after you while you sleep the winter away.’

‘You don’t have to look after me. I mean just mind the house like you’d do if I was on holiday – take the bins out, water the plants, that sort of thing. I haven’t got any work for a couple of weeks, I can’t help but think this is my body telling me to take a rest instead of filling up my free time. I’d be surprised if I slept for more than a fortnight – I don’t think this is a full-on hibernation. Just my subconscious and my body forcing me to take some downtime.’

‘Just bins and plants?’

‘And a bit of shopping. There’s a few things I’ve run out of and I’m going to be starving when I wake up.’

For a creature that could shred me as easily as it had torn the furniture she was very polite with her persuasion. And my feigned reluctance was all part of the performance. I loved getting caught up in all this nonsense. I gave my answer by starting to tidy the debris around the living room. I’d get a bin bag from the kitchen later.

Annie gave a last smile before her human features melted away. ‘Don’t forget to lock up,’ she growled and then fur and fangs returned. I winced as she flumped back onto the sofa. By the time I had cleared away the various messes into two large bags by the back door the air was filled with resonating bear snores. I let myself out.

‘See you in the “Spring”.’