I was going to have to hear more about that story. I didn’t talk to Georgie much, but I could probably get Timothy to tell me, with the right treats.
“Still, the idea of using the unicorn hair has merit,” the doctor said. “Being around her definitely has a calming effect; I’ve felt it myself. And Prissy is much nicer since she’s been sharing Moonpearl’s stall.”
“Great!” said Allegra. “I’ll go get more hair.” She hopped off the stool.
“Stop right there,” said her mom. “Shaving off her mane or pulling out hair for our use isn’t right. We will just use hair from grooming, nothing else.” Doctors had more rules than teachers did. Still, I wouldn’t want anyone pulling out my hair all the time, so I guess this one made sense.
“I’m going to go get the hair out of the ferret cage,” said Dr. B. “You stay here.”
She came back with the lump of hair held in the tips of a metal thing that looked like a cross between tweezers and scissors.
“The ferret is breathing much better, so perhaps this can work,” she said. She was wearing a pair of rubber gloves. She took out a towel and laid the lump down on top of it. Then she opened a pad of gauze, put some surgical tape on two edges, turned it over, and put the lump of hair in the middle of the gauze. Using her fingers, she spread out the hair into a flat piece, instead of a lump. Then she rolled up her shirtsleeve and put the piece of gauze over a big red scratch that was scabbed over on her arm, smoothing down the tape.
Allegra burst out, “What are you doing?”
Dr. B. pulled down her sleeve. “I want to see if it helps this scratch that I got from the broken top of a cage. I also have a headache, a real one, not just because of you two.” She gave us a hard stare. “If this heals the scratch in less than a day, then I will try it on the ferret.” She straightened up, and collected the towel and the tweezer thingy. “Allegra, the tables in the exam rooms need to be bleached. Eric, you disinfect the empty cages in the ward before mucking out the stalls.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Chapter Twelve
THAT LUMP OF UNICORN HAIR cured the doctor’s scratch right quick. It was completely gone by the next day. I began collecting hair whenever I groomed Moonpearl, and Dr. B. let me make up little pads of gauze and hair to use. They were stored in a locked cabinet with some of the medicine. We didn’t use them on all the patients, just the sickest ones, the ones Dr. B. thought needed the most help. The hair didn’t cure everything instantly, like the horn did, but the patients got better a lot faster.
Moonpearl kept getting bigger around the middle. Her skinny little legs hardly seemed strong enough to hold her up—she looked like a marshmallow on a bunch of toothpicks. Of course, I didn’t say that to her. She was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I came over every day, even though I only got paid for a few hours a week. Dad was working late a lot and Steve was either working at the diner or hanging around with Darren and Charlie Deaton and that gang.
The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Dr. B. was in the stall, checking over Moonpearl, when I got there in the morning. The clinic was closed Sundays, so she had more time than usual, I guess.
“Morning, Eric.”
“Morning.” I snagged the bucket of grooming brushes and went into the stall. I stepped over the goose, who was snuggled down in the sawdust, and began combing out Moonpearl’s mane. “When do you think the babies will come?”
“It’s still hard to judge, but my best guess is mid to late December,” the doctor said, running the curry brush down the unicorn’s withers. “It could be later, but I’d be surprised if it’s later than New Year’s Day. The foals are still moving a lot. Do you feel them when you’re grooming?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. Sometimes I thought I felt movement underneath the brush as I smoothed it down her sides, but it was hard to tell because the skin felt so tight across her belly.
“One of them is kicking now,” said Dr. B. “Come here.” I came around Moonpearl’s front, ducking to avoid the horn. The doctor took my hand and put it on the underside of Moonpearl’s belly, below the ribs. At first all I felt was the warmth of her soft hide and then, a poke, like someone knocking away my hand. Moonpearl turned her head to look at me, flicking one ear back at us.
“I felt it,” I said. “I felt one of the babies move!” Dr. B. smiled at me, and I smiled back. There was another poke and I saw a bump move, pushing out Moonpearl’s side just a little, like a foot moving under a blanket. I laughed out loud. The doctor laughed too.
“Mom!” Allegra called, appearing at the barn door. “Phone, emergency call!”
Dr. B. sighed and gave Moonpearl one last pat. “No rest for the wicked, even on Sundays.”
Moonpearl tossed her head and shook out her mane. “Hey, I just smoothed that out,” I said. I brushed her mane back so it all lay on one side of her neck. Her mane looked soft, but the hair was actually kind of thick and coarse. I finished grooming her and gathered up the combs and brushes. She huffed at me as I carried them to the bench, then nickered louder.
I laid out the brushes and took a regular comb, the kind people use, to tease all the hair out, collecting it into a big ball. I got out a bunch of gauze pads and put some hair on each one and stacked them up to use later.
Moonpearl nickered again and tapped the side of the stall door with her hoof. I turned to see what was bothering her. She craned her neck, trying to look around me to the bench.
“Oh, do you want to know what I’m doing?” I asked. She nodded.
“We found out that your hair has healing powers too. Not as strong as your horn, of course, and it seems to wear off after a while, like medicine you have to keep taking. It can help the patients and doesn’t make you tired,” I explained. I held out one of the pads with the wad of hair on it for her to see. She seemed to consider that for a bit.
“Is that OK?” I asked. Moonpearl made low rumbles in her throat and nodded again. The matter settled, she stepped back and nosed in her feed trough for a few stray bits of hay.
We were going to visit Grandma soon, and I was thinking about how just a few little unicorn hairs helped her move her crippled-up hands. The hairs were gone the next time I went to see her and her hands were all curled up and stiff again. She would always check my shirt for hairs, saying she was looking for evidence I was visiting my “other white-haired lady friend.” There weren’t any, because now I made sure I had time to change my clothes before we went—Dad insisted we dress in our “Sunday best” for her.
Maybe I could take some and stick them on my shirt for her to find. I pulled some hair off one of the pads and stuffed it into the pocket on my T-shirt.
“Are more pads ready?” Allegra said over my shoulder. I jumped. Shoot. That girl could still sneak up on me.
“Here.” I shoved the stack of pads with hair into her hands. She took them and then looked at me real sharp. She reached out and pulled the unicorn hair from my pocket.
“What were you doing with this?” she asked. “This is enough for another pad; you know we need those.”
“Nothing.” I snatched it back and spread it on a pad.
“You were going to take it, weren’t you?” Allegra said. “Why? You’re not sick.” I could tell she was working herself up real good about it. Why did she have to be so nosy?
“I’m telling Mom,” she said. She whirled and stomped toward the door. I couldn’t let her do that; Dr. B. might think I was going to do something bad with it. I rushed after her and grabbed her arm.
“Wait, it’s not what you think,” I said. She pulled her arm away, but stood still.
“So, what it is, then?” she said.
I looked at my feet. She made me feel like I had been caught stealing. I was the one who figured out the hair had healing in it, not Allegra or Dr. B. That should give me some rights to use a little bit of it if I wanted, if I needed it.
“I want it for Grandma, for her hands.”
“Oh. You told m
e about that. I guess I forgot, I was so excited about helping our patients,” Allegra said.
“I was thinking if I could get her more hairs, use a pad of it, it would cure her hands, or maybe even her heart.” Maybe she could even move back home, I thought.
“You can’t just slap on a pad with unicorn hair, people would think that was strange,” Allegra pointed out. I hadn’t thought that far ahead, I was just focused on getting Grandma to touch the unicorn hair again. The best thing would be to have Moonpearl use her horn, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“I have an idea,” Allegra said. She went back to the bench and dumped the pads on it. She took one of the brushes and tossed another to me. “You groom her tail tuft, and I’ll work on her mane.”
“I already brushed her mane.” Allegra ignored that.
“Hey, Lady,” Allegra crooned as she slipped into the stall. Moonpearl blew out her lips, like making a raspberry at her. It wasn’t rude though, it was just her way of saying hello. She stretched out her nose to me to be petted as I came in. So, of course, I stroked her velvety muzzle before moving down to her hindquarters. That tail was the only thing I didn’t think was absolutely beautiful about Moonpearl. It just seemed she should have a long flowing tail like a horse, not this lion’s tail thing.
“We need long, coarse hairs. Get as many as you can,” Allegra said, running the brush through the unicorn’s mane. I combed out the tuft on the end of her tail, and collected a bunch of long hairs.
“Give them here,” Allegra said, holding out her hand. I gave her the silvery hairs. She sat on the stool by the workbench and pulled long hairs out of the brushes, then smoothed them flat. After bundling them up, she pulled a bead out of her pocket and slipped the bundle through the hole. She tied a knot in one end, then braided the hairs together. She tied a knot in the other end, fiddled a bit more, and held it up. It was a little white circle, a bracelet of unicorn hair with a blue bead in the middle.
“There,” she said. “You can give her this and I’ll bet she’ll wear it. And the nurses won’t throw it out, because she’ll tell them it’s a present from you.”
I took the unicorn-hair bracelet from her and slipped it over my own hand. Some of the hairs stuck out and were a little bit scratchy, but it looked like those string bracelets a lot of the girls at school wore.
“It’s nice. How did you know how to do that?” I asked. I couldn’t help but grin. I just knew this would work. Grandma would be sure to wear it a lot, and her hands would get better, and she would get better. It didn’t pay to think too much beyond that, but I could hope. Maybe she could visit for Thanksgiving, and Christmas too. This would be the first Thanksgiving that we weren’t eating at the farmhouse, the first Thanksgiving without Grandma there. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do. I almost forgot Allegra was standing there, until she spoke.
“I made friendship bracelets all the time, where we used to live,” she said.
I could just barely hear her say, “Back when I used to have friends.” I almost wanted to say I was her friend, but I didn’t.
“Thanks,” I said instead. It kind of meant the same thing.
Back at my house, I wrapped the bracelet in a tissue and stuck it in a little box that I kept a dead June bug in. I dumped the June bug out first. Even though I knew Grandma would like the swirling colors on its green shell just like I did, I figured they wouldn’t appreciate June bugs at the nursing home.
I changed into Sunday clothes and went out on the front porch to wait for Dad and Steve. The little box was tucked safe in my back pocket. Dad came out and sat down next to me. He bumped my shoulder with his, and I bumped back. He fished a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with Poppaw’s Zippo lighter. I liked the click it made when he flipped it closed. Dad blew a stream of smoke up into the air. The mintiness of the menthol didn’t cover up the warm toastiness of the tobacco. I know cigarettes are all kinds of bad for you, but I sure did like that smell.
“Steve!” Dad hollered. “Get your rear in gear and get on out here.” He blew another stream and bumped my shoulder again. “That boy can take longer primping than your mother ever did.” I perked up at that. Our mom died when I was two and I don’t really remember her. Dad and Steve don’t talk about her much, and I hadn’t heard that detail about her before. Then Steve came clomping out, calling, “Shotgun!”
“No fair, I was ready first,” I cried, swiping at his leg as he went by.
“You snooze, you lose. You gotta call it,” said Steve as he strode around to the passenger side of the car. Dad grabbed me in a headlock and messed up my hair. I yelled, “Cut it out,” but really, I was too happy to care.
At the nursing home, the usual crew was out front, checking out all the visitors. The nurses at the desk waved as we went by.
Grandma had her eyes closed when we first walked in. She looked even tinier than usual, with the covers pulled up and her skinny little arms straight out on top. Dad leaned over and kissed her and her eyes popped open. “There’s my boys,” she said, her raspy voice hardly above a whisper. We had missed last week, on account of her hall was locked down because of the flu. They closed it off to keep the flu from spreading to the other halls, but I don’t know if it helped much. Grandma hadn’t caught it, but she still didn’t look so good.
Steve clicked on the game. Football this time, the Panthers versus the Steelers. Soon he and Dad were ignoring us, as usual.
“How’s my blue-eyed boy?” Grandma whispered. I sat on the bed next to her, my back to Steve and Dad.
“I got something for you,” I whispered and pulled the little box out of my pocket. I held it out to her.
“You open it for me,” she said. I took the lid off and picked up the unicorn-hair bracelet. “Now, where did you find that?” Grandma flicked her eyes over at Dad, then back to me. She held out her left hand, and I was just able to slide the bracelet over the crumpled-up fingers.
“I didn’t find it; it was made for you.”
“Was it now?” She held up her arm. The white bracelet hung from her skinny wrist. I held my breath, waiting for her fingers to move, to be healed. Slowly, she reached her other hand up, and one bent finger brushed the white hair. “By your other white-haired lady friend?” Grandma asked. The bent finger hooked inside the circle, then gently pulled away, straightening as it went. The bracelet was working!
“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s hair from that white horse I told you I was taking care of. Allegra, she made it.” Grandma looked at me sharp.
“Allegra?” Steve broke in. “Who’s Allegra? Hey, Dad, did you hear, Eric’s got a girlfriend!” Steve poked Dad in the side and pointed at me. “Ah-lleggg-rah. She makes bracelets,” he said, in a singsongy voice.
“Hush now, Steve. I didn’t notice you bringing me anything from that girl of yours or even on your own account,” Grandma scolded him. I tried not to let my grin show. She always did like me best.
Dad’s big hand reached past me and took Grandma’s wrist, the one with the bracelet. “What did you say it was made from?” he asked. Bending over me, he pulled her arm up higher so he could examine the bracelet. Grandma gave him a hard look and he let go.
“Just white horse hair. From the horse the vet’s paying me to help take care of,” I said. “Allegra’s the vet’s daughter, remember?”
“Right, that bossy little girl,” he said. He sat back and quit looming over us. Sometimes I forgot how big he was.
Both Dad and Grandma kept looking at me. I squirmed a bit, wondering what I had done wrong. I could see the bracelet was working. Grandma was rubbing it between the fingers of her left hand and the fingers were straight and soft-looking. She got a determined look on her face.
“Eric, hand me that doohickey,” she said, motioning to the bed control box. I handed it to her, and she raised the head of the bed to a sitting position, then straightened her robe and fluffed up her hair.
“Boys, I’m not spending Thanksgiving in this sorry old place
,” she announced. “You’re going to carry me home and we will do it up right. Not only that, but we are inviting the new neighbors, that doctor and her child, to share with us.”
“Yay!” I yelled.
“Now, Mama, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dad asked.
“All right, touchdown!” said Steve, paying no mind to us.
Grandma laughed. “You boys, what are you gonna do without me?”
Chapter Thirteen
THE NEXT FEW DAYS were real busy. We had to get the house ready for Thanksgiving. I guess we weren’t too bad for a bunch of guys. We generally kept the trash off the floor, and Dad insisted that the dishes get washed every night. But it wasn’t Grandma-clean, that was for sure. I was much better at house-cleaning stuff now, on account of the work I did at the clinic—all that sweeping and mopping and disinfecting. But we still had a lot of work to do.
Grandma was calling the house every night, telling Steve what to buy at the store, reminding Dad when to come by to take her to the beauty parlor to get her hair fixed, asking me to make sure the mantel above the fireplace was dusted, the windows washed. Allegra told me she called them too, making sure Georgie was coming and asking about their favorite foods.
I still went to the clinic every day. I couldn’t stay away from Moonpearl. It seemed like she couldn’t get any rounder, but she did. Even though Dr. B. still thought the babies would come in December, I was worried they might come while Grandma was here at Thanksgiving, and I would miss their being born. Dr. B. hadn’t said I could help, but I had promised Moonpearl I would be there. Breaking promises is bad, but it should be double bad to break a promise to a unicorn.
Early Thanksgiving morning, I went with Dad to get Grandma. Steve stayed at the house, fixing the turkey. He had grumbled a bit about missing Thanksgiving at his girlfriend’s house, but got excited when Grandma shared her pecan pie and stuffing recipes. He was getting pretty good in the kitchen, though not as good as Grandma.
The Unicorn in the Barn Page 7
