“Are you sure you are strong enough for this, my lady?” Timothy asked. Moonpearl twitched her ears back at him and then looked at me.
“She says she will do it, as a favor to you.”
“Sweet!” This was great! Butterfinger would get better, Jamal would be happy, Dr. B. could keep her old goose egg money for other patients, and I could keep my paycheck, too. A win-win all around.
I scratched Moonpearl on her favorite place, under her chin. She pulled back and nuzzled my hand. “Thanks, beauty,” I said. She took a couple of steps closer to Butterfinger, then lowered her head. Her horn touched Butterfinger on her side, very gently, near her heart. Light seemed to flow down the horn like water, and a strange humming feeling filled the barn. She held her horn there for maybe ten seconds, before shuffling back a few steps, her head still low.
Butterfinger shivered all over, then scrambled to her feet.
She gave three short barks, and jumped up to lick my face. “Pew, dog breath.” Then I laughed out loud. It worked! Butterfinger was all better.
Butterfinger trotted over to the unicorn, her tail twirling like a helicopter. They touched noses. Butterfinger backed up and made that same funny little bowing motion that Timothy had when the unicorn restored his visibility.
“The thing has better manners than I expected,” said Timothy. “Now kindly remove it from my barn.” He retreated to the top railing of the stall.
I hugged Moonpearl’s neck. “I knew you could do it, thank you, thank you!” She backed into her stall and I slid the door shut. She folded her legs, first the front, then the back, and settled into the straw bedding with a sigh. I gave her a carrot from my stash in the feed room. Her head was drooping a bit as she munched the carrot.
Butterfinger was frisking around, good as new. I gave her a big hug. Butterfinger had been dying and now she was fine. Maybe Moonpearl could do the same thing for Grandma—she wasn’t dying, just old and crippled up. It should be easier to fix her.
We slipped out of the barn and up to the kitchen door. I opened it slowly and checked around—nobody in sight, but I could hear voices down the hall. I picked Butterfinger up so she wouldn’t give us away with her toenails clicking on the floor. She licked my face as I put her back in her crate. “Shhh, go to sleep now.” She stuck her nose through the wire to try and give me one last lick, then curled up on the floor of the crate. I turned out the lights and went home.
Chapter Ten
THE NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL, Jamal looked kind of down. I knew Butterfinger was OK, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe if I went straight to the clinic from the bus, I’d get to see him when they picked her up. It would be so cool, Butterfinger being her old self and Jamal all smiles. Of course, I’d have to let Dr. B. take the credit, but it would be worth it. I was getting pretty good at vet stuff and this secret-keeping thing, too.
I bopped through the kitchen door and into the holding room. A cat was sleeping in a cage on the lower level, a parakeet sat on a high shelf, and the squonk water was swirling in its jar. I still hadn’t seen it or heard it sing, but the water moved sometimes. Butterfinger wasn’t in her crate. I guessed Jamal’s mom must’ve picked her up already. Too bad, I missed seeing Jamal’s face when he found out Butterfinger was all better. I got out the broom and dustpan and began sweeping. The sooner I got done here, the sooner I could go be with Moonpearl.
Dr. B. was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She didn’t look happy. She waggled her finger in that way that meant “come here.” I stuck the broom and pan back in the closet and followed her down the hall to her office.
She sat down behind her desk and motioned for me to sit too. Timothy was perched on the edge of her desk, staring at me. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about things.
“So, Eric, Butterfinger looked much better this morning,” said Dr. B. “So much better that I ran some tests on her and discovered that her cancer tumors were gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Uh-oh.
Timothy suddenly began washing his paw, avoiding me. I looked down at my feet, trying to think of what to say.
“Have you been to the barn today?” the doctor said.
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you haven’t seen the unicorn.”
I looked up. “No, ma’am.” The doctor was staring at me hard, and Timothy was too. What was going on?
“She is weak today, and isn’t eating.” A spurt of fear shot through me. “You used her to heal Butterfinger, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “Is Moonpearl going to be OK?”
“I think so,” Dr. B. said gently. I relaxed back into the chair. Timothy was still staring at me. The doctor rubbed her temples, then looked back up at me. “Eric, what you did was wrong.”
Wrong? How could it be wrong to make my friend’s dog better? Moonpearl had magic that could make her better, make all the sick animals here better.
“We don’t own these creatures, none of them, but especially the magical ones. If they are pets, they belong to other people and we can’t do certain things without their owner’s permission. Do you understand?”
“But Moonpearl doesn’t have an owner,” I said. “She can help all the other animals that come here. You could be the best vet ever, with her helping you, helping us.”
“The unicorn is a wild creature; she doesn’t belong to us. She has her own purpose. Even though healing power is part of that purpose, it seems that healing weakens her now. I don’t know if that’s because she is pregnant, or if that’s how it always works. I just don’t know enough about unicorns. We can’t risk it.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her! I would never do that!” I cried.
Timothy glared at me. “I told you that magic sometimes has a cost, a cost to the magic user. The lady is paying that cost now.”
My throat got tight and my nose stung. Clenching my teeth, I looked back down at my shoes so Dr. B. couldn’t see how red my face was.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt her,” she said. “But we have a responsibility to these animals, all of them, to heal them, to keep them safe. Even if it doesn’t harm the unicorn to heal, I can’t use her to cure animals that other vets can’t. It would be suspicious and draw too much attention, especially when the cures stop after she leaves.”
Timothy jumped down from the desk and came over to rub his head against my leg. I reached down to stroke his back. I didn’t see why Moonpearl had to leave. She liked it here. Timothy jumped into my lap, and I hugged him.
“Moonpearl doesn’t have to leave. She can stay here and I’ll take good care of her. She could use her magic only when she wants to. I asked her to heal Butterfinger; I didn’t force her.”
“It’s true, the boy did ask. She did it as a favor to him,” said Timothy. I hugged him tighter, feeling the rumble of his purr. Timothy understood; he was on my side.
“Eric, once her foals are born and she’s recovered, we have to let her go. She doesn’t belong in a barn. Even if the unicorn stayed here, we would still be risking discovery. She’s not like Timothy or Prissy. She doesn’t look ordinary. No one must ever see her.”
“No one will, I’ll make sure of that,” I said.
“We have to let her go,” Dr. B. said. “It’s not up for discussion. Now promise me that you won’t use her to heal any more animals. You’ve kept the magical animals secret, so I know I can trust your promise. Do I have your word on this?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Good boy,” said Timothy. “Now, scratch my left ear.” I did, and the right one for good measure. Everybody in this place was so bossy. Except for Moonpearl.
“Moonpearl hasn’t been groomed yet today,” said Dr. B. “Why don’t you go do that?” She smiled briefly, then turned on her computer.
“OK,” I said, letting Timothy go as I stood up. He hopped back up on the desk, then into Dr. B.’s lap.
I stopped in the kitchen to get an apple from the stash I kept for
Moonpearl and cut it into slices. I could hear Georgie talking to someone in one of the exam rooms, but no sign of Allegra. She probably knew all about Butterfinger and my getting in trouble, so I really didn’t want to see her at that particular moment.
As I closed the barn door, Moonpearl nickered to me. Her head was poking out of the stall, watching me. She looked OK and I sighed in relief.
“Hey, beauty,” I said softly. I opened the stall door and slipped inside.
“Honk.” Prissy flapped at me, and checked me out with one mean little black eye. The goose and the unicorn had become pals and the doctor let Prissy sleep in the stall sometimes. I gave Prissy an apple slice and she settled into the straw next to Moonpearl. I held out my hand flat with another apple slice on it. Moonpearl picked it up delicately with her lips, no teeth at all.
I fetched the curry brush from the shelf and began working down from her jaw, along the side of her neck and withers. She nibbled my sleeve, asking for more apple, as I brushed her rump. “All gone,” I said, showing her my empty hands. Moonpearl snorted at me and turned to slurp down some water.
She did seem tired; the skin around her eyes looked darker, but I could tell she still liked me. Everything was going to be OK.
Chapter Eleven
THE NEXT DAY, ALLEGRA WAS in the barn when I got there. She was already combing out the unicorn’s mane, even though grooming was my job. Moonpearl snorted, and I saw how glad she was to see me. It didn’t matter if Allegra was there too.
Allegra looked over her shoulder, then moved over a bit to make room for me. I picked up the curry comb from the bucket and started brushing down Moonpearl. Her hair was thicker, now that her winter coat was coming in. That calm feeling settled into me as I worked.
“I heard about Butterfinger, you know, about how you got Moonpearl to heal her,” Allegra said.
“So?” I said with a shrug. I kept working. Moonpearl’s sides were bulging out more every day. It was getting harder to reach to the middle of her belly with the brush.
“So, I thought about doing that, too. Having the unicorn treat the patients. My mom works too hard. Even after the clinic is closed for the night, she stays up late, writing reports. She won’t hire more help, because we never know when a special patient will show up. We’ve never gone on vacation, not even to visit my grandparents.”
I didn’t say anything. We didn’t go off on vacations either; we couldn’t afford to, although last summer Steve went to the beach for a week with his girlfriend’s family. But I could see that the doctor couldn’t leave if there were patients in the ward. She might be able to get somebody to look after Timothy; he was smart enough not to give anything away. But it could be bad if Prissy laid an egg around the wrong person, and forget about anyone else taking care of a unicorn or a squonk.
“Maybe Georgie and I could take care of things for a couple of days,” I offered.
“Maybe. But it’s not just that. It cost a lot to buy this place, and my mom still has loans from vet school. She’s always worried about money, especially since my dad disappeared. I don’t think we could afford to pay you.”
That surprised me. “You got all those golden eggs.”
“Only the shells are gold, not the yolk and the whites. I don’t think she gets that much for one. She has to be careful about selling gold that pure. She mostly sells it to jewelers. Besides, Prissy doesn’t lay eggs that often. I know that Moonpearl shouldn’t be forced into helping, especially since it makes her so tired. Maybe it’s just part of being a doctor—you’re always tired.” I hadn’t thought of Moonpearl as a doctor, but I guess that’s what she was, a sort of magical doctor.
Allegra pulled a bunch of hair out of the comb and let it drift down into the sawdust. I remembered the unicorn hairs Grandma picked off my shirt.
“I got an idea,” I said. I told her about how the hair helped Grandma’s hand. “I think there’s power in the hair too, not just the horn. We could take the hair that we clean out of the curry brushes and combs and use that to help the patients.”
Allegra looked at the comb in her hand. “You’re right.” That was a first, Allegra admitting I was right about something. “I always feel better just being around Lady Shimmershine Moonpearl.” I could hardly believe she still used that stupid name. Allegra pulled another bunch of mane hair out of the comb. “Gimme your brush,” she said, holding out her hand.
Same old bossy Allegra, I thought. She worked the comb through the brush, collecting a big fluff of unicorn hair. “That should do to start,” she said. She tossed the curry combs into the bucket and ran out of the barn. I could hear her calling for her mom and Georgie as the screen door slammed.
“I better go see what she’s up to,” I explained to Moonpearl. It was my idea and I wanted credit for it. I patted the unicorn’s flank goodbye and followed Allegra.
When I got inside, Allegra was in the ward room, eyeing the cages. “Mom’s in the surgery and Georgie is assisting,” she said. “Sewing up a tomcat’s ear.” She put the fluff of hair down on a counter next to a birdcage, then covered it with a paper towel.
“We could try it out,” I said. “The ferret isn’t doing so good; he could use some help.” The ferret had been mauled by a couple of dogs when it escaped from the owner’s house. With half its hair shaved off, a cast on one back leg, and bandages around its middle, it was a sorry-looking thing. Its breathing didn’t sound good either, a raspy wheeze.
“What should we do, just put it in the cage?” she asked.
“I think the hair needs to touch him,” I said. I took the towel off the front of the cage. The ferret was asleep, curled up on a pile of wood shavings, his tail curved over his leg cast. Gently, I pulled the cage off the shelf and put it on the counter where we could see better. The ferret jerked his head up a little, sniffed a bit, then dropped it back down. The card on the cage said his name was Slinkydink.
Allegra uncovered the hair, then rolled it down into a skinny lump. She opened the cage door and slowly reached in, then dropped the lump onto the ferret’s side, between the bandage and the cast. He twitched and the lump slid off onto the bedding.
“That won’t do anything; we’ve got to get it back on,” I said.
“I know that,” Allegra snapped. The lump was behind the ferret, on the opposite side of the cage door. “I don’t want to move him and I don’t want to get bitten.” She pulled a pair of latex gloves out of a drawer and put them on. She reached in over the ferret, then stopped.
“I can’t see it from this angle,” she said. I could see though; her hand was close.
“Reach straight down,” I said. Her fingers closed, but got only shavings. The ferret stirred and began breathing hard. She pulled her hand back out.
“The ferret is getting too stressed. It’s not good for him,” she said.
I turned the cage and leaned over and tried to blow the lump onto the ferret. That only blew a bunch of shavings onto him and made me sneeze.
“That was dumb.” That girl never cut me a break.
“Got a better idea?” I said, brushing shavings off my shirt. More to sweep up later. Then the jar of tongue depressors caught my eye. I took out one of the flat wooden sticks and used it to push the lump of unicorn hair up against the ferret’s back.
“What are you doing?” Dr. B. asked.
I jumped and jabbed the ferret with the stick. The poor thing flinched and raised up his head, hissing and showing me his teeth. I backed away from the cage.
Dr. B. stalked into the room just then and snatched the stick out of my hand.
“Mom, it’s OK,” said Allegra, jumping between us. “We aren’t hurting him, we’re trying to help.”
“Get out. Both of you. Wait for me in the kitchen.” I’d never seen her so mad.
We went into the kitchen and sat on the stools at the counter. I began to worry. Maybe I was going to get fired. I didn’t care so much about the money, but what would I do if I couldn’t see Moonpearl anymore?
> Dr. B. came in after us and faced us over the counter. “Now tell me what you were thinking.”
Before I could open my mouth, Allegra jumped in, explaining about my grandma’s hands and the unicorn hair. I didn’t even get to tell my own part of the story, but she did say the bit about the hair was my idea.
“Using her hair won’t make Moonpearl tired, but it could make the patients better,” I said. “We were trying it out on the ferret ’cause he’s in such bad shape.”
“You should have come to me with this idea first. The patients are my responsibility and I can’t allow them to be experimented on,” she said.
What did she mean now? In school, experiments are good things; it’s what you’re supposed to do to find out stuff. Moonpearl didn’t need that hair anymore. What was the problem? Allegra looked puzzled too.
“But Mom, if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t hurt anybody,” she said.
“We don’t know that. Also, you both know you aren’t supposed to handle the patients without permission. There’s so much I still don’t know about these magical animals, what might be safe for them, what they might pass onto others. What if Moonpearl has some sort of virus that could infect Slinkydink?”
“But Timothy goes everywhere,” I said.
“He doesn’t go into the clinic rooms. He also lived with a family with other pets for a while before he came to us,” Dr. B. said.
I hadn’t thought about where Timothy was before.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Georgie brought Timothy to us. She found him as a stray and he lived with her and her pets for two years before he had his little visibility problem.” The doctor laughed. “Georgie said she wasn’t sure which was more shocking, that his middle was missing or that he talked. That’s how she came to work with me and why we trust her with the special patients.”
The Unicorn in the Barn Page 6
