“If Mom said it was too risky, then it’s too risky, so we didn’t do it,” said Allegra. “Don’t bring it up; you’ll make her feel worse.” Allegra stuck her head out into the hall, then turned back. “I’m going up to our kitchen to make her some tea. Why don’t you go clean some cages or something?”
Nobody asked how I was feeling about finding a dead ferret. Sometimes this job really stunk.
Chapter Fifteen
THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS were pretty good. Grandma was making plans for Christmas, telling us how to decorate the house and what church services she wanted to go to. Allegra made another unicorn-hair bracelet, so Grandma had one for each hand. We had figured out that the hair wasn’t a complete cure, like the horn. It was more like medicine you needed to take all the time. Grandma must have worn the bracelets every day, because her hands got so much better that she started knitting again. I didn’t even care that I had to go pick up yarn for her at Wal-Mart. Shoot; I used some of my own money to buy her this pretty greeny-brown mix that reminded me of Moonpearl’s eyes. Figured it would make a good Christmas present. If she made me a scarf out of that, I might even wear it.
The Saturday before Christmas, as I was going over to the barn that afternoon, I noticed that the No Trespassing sign was gone from my treehouse oak. One little yellow-and-black corner was left flapping in the breeze. I checked along the property line, and sure enough, some of Allegra’s other signs were gone too. I found one under a bush and another one next to the path. They must have come off during the storm the night before. It was still deer-hunting season, so I decided I would get more signs to post the next time we went into town, just to make sure.
A couple of cars were pulled up to the house, so I knew everyone would be busy with patients. I went into the barn to muck out the stalls.
Moonpearl gave a low nicker when I came in, just to say hello. A new patient in one of the stalls, a nanny goat, started bleating, and Prissy started honking away too.
I tossed a bit of carrot to the goat, then opened Moonpearl’s stall. She nudged my pockets, looking for her treats. She was so big now, she looked wider than she was tall, even counting the horn. I gave her a carrot and threw some little bits of biscuit to the goose.
“Is there a fish in that pocket for me?” a voice rumbled in my ear. Timothy popped into view, curled up on Moonpearl’s wide back.
“No fish, but I didn’t forget you,” I said. I pulled out a napkin holding some pieces of ham and held it out to the cat.
“Don’t think that makes up for interrupting my nap,” Timothy said, but he gobbled down the ham anyway. He let me skritch his ear, so I knew I was forgiven.
Moonpearl swung her head around to watch me. “Hey, beauty,” I said, holding out another carrot. Moonpearl gobbled it up while I scratched her withers, the place between her shoulders. She liked me to do that. I stood there, scratching and breathing in that sweet unicorn smell, relaxing into the peace and quiet.
The stalls didn’t smell so sweet though, and I got to work mucking them out and spreading fresh hay.
It was Saturday, which meant now I got to do one of my favorite things with Moonpearl—take her to the pasture on the other side of the ridge, just the two of us.
“Come on, Pearlie girl, let’s go,” I said, backing out of the stall. When Moonpearl came out, I closed the gate real quick, to keep Prissy inside. Moonpearl and me stepped out into the sunshine. The light rippled down her horn as she turned her head to watch me close the door.
She clopped around the barn and up the path. I walked behind her, watching that funny lion tail switching back and forth. The woods were a lot quieter in the winter than in the summer. There were no bugs humming. Not many birds singing either. Just unicorn hooves and my sneakers crunching through the leaves.
When we got to the pasture, I hugged her neck, breathing in that wonderful smell. She shook her head, breaking my hold so I would let her get to the sweet grass. I sat down and Moonpearl started to graze. Even though it was December, the sun was still warm on my back and arms. I could have watched her all day. If heaven was all the best things ever, this was heaven for me.
Moonpearl jerked her head up, laying her ears back. I had never seen her do that before. She snorted and pawed the ground, looking around the pasture. Trotting over to me, she whinnied and pointed with her nose back toward the path. She pawed my leg with her front hoof.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Moonpearl scanned the clearing, shuffling her hooves. I couldn’t see what had spooked her. She grabbed the sleeve of my jacket with her teeth, pulling on it.
“OK, OK, I’m coming,” I said, getting to my feet.
Moonpearl pranced back a few steps, giving me room to stand. I opened the gate in the fence to let her out and we started back toward the barn. At the edge of the woods, Moonpearl stopped, her ears swiveling back and forth. I could tell she was listening hard. She started down the path, stopped, and looked back at me as if to say, “You need to come now.”
As we entered the woods, it was much darker under the trees. I hadn’t realized it was almost twilight. Every hundred feet or so, Moonpearl would pause, listening and taking in big breaths. Something in the woods was worrying her and that worried me.
We were almost to the top of the ridge when Moonpearl stopped and I stumbled into her rump. Her head was angled back, but she wasn’t looking at me. I spun around. Someone was behind us. About one hundred feet from us, a dark figure stood on the path.
Oh, no, someone has seen Moonpearl! Dr. B. will be so mad, was my first thought. I moved to try and block Moonpearl so he couldn’t see her horn. He took a couple of steps toward us. “Hey, whoever you are, this is Harper’s Woods. You’re trespassing,” I called out.
He gave a weird laugh that sounded like a cough.
Moonpearl shouldered me aside, lowering her horn. The stranger took another step toward us. Moonpearl snorted and pawed the ground. The stranger dropped down onto all fours. Big yellow eyes glowed in the dark. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t a person.
The thing crouched lower and stretched out a big paw, gently, silently, placing it down on the path. It moved like a cat, a really big cat. Closer and closer it crept, then snarled, flashing big fangs. It looked like a mountain lion, but mountain lions don’t live around here.
Moonpearl screamed and reared up, her front hoofs striking out at the thing. It screamed back, clawing at her. I scrambled to get out of the way, but slipped on the leaves and fell. Moonpearl charged the big cat, her horn flashing.
“No!”
The cat-thing leapt off the path, fleeing into the woods, and Moonpearl thundered after it. By the time I got to my feet, they were crashing through the trees.
“Moonpearl, come back!”
I ran, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I could hear them for a few moments, but soon lost sight of them. There were no flashes of white between the trees and no sign of that awful cat-thing either.
“Moonpearl, come back, please come back!” I cried. I pushed through a tangle of bushes and vines, thrashing to pull my sleeve loose from a sticker bush. Everything was blurry; I had to rub my eyes to try and see.
My foot twisted and I fell flat, cracking my chin on a rock and biting my lip. I lay there, my cheek on the cold dirt. Maybe if I stayed still for a bit, Moonpearl would come back. But maybe the cat-thing would come back first. I rolled over and sat up. My hands were all scraped up, and blood trickled down my chin. I touched my lower lip—it was wet and puffy. My left ankle throbbed.
“Moonpearl!” I called again. No sounds from the woods. It was too dark to see very far under the trees. The pain from my busted lip made my eyes water. My ankle hurt, but I could walk on it. After wiping my eyes, I limped my way back to the barn.
Chapter Sixteen
IT WAS FULL DARK WHEN I got to the farmhouse. I dreaded telling Dr. B. what had happened to the unicorn, but she needed to know about the mountain lion or whatever it was.
&nbs
p; Allegra was outside the barn and spotted me on the path. She came running, getting all up in my face.
“What happened to you?” she cried, taking in my ripped jeans and bloody lip. She reached for me, but I jerked back, avoiding her hand.
“Moonpearl’s gone; she ran away!”
“What? What do you mean she ran away?” Allegra screeched. She shoved me on the shoulder. “She’s about to have her babies! She needs our help. How could you let her do that? Why did you do that?” she yelled, and shoved me again. I let her. I deserved it. Moonpearl fought that mountain lion monster, and I didn’t do anything to defend us. I was a coward.
“Answer me!” That girl was so mad, she kept jumping around, yelling, “Why?” I was afraid she would start kicking me next and I probably would have let her do that too. I tried to explain, but couldn’t get a word in.
“Allegra! What are you doing?” Dr. B. grabbed Allegra’s arm and pulled her back.
“He lost Moonpearl! I told you we should never have let him help! I knew we couldn’t trust him!” she cried.
Dr. B. crouched down next to me and took hold of my chin, inspecting my busted lip. “Eric, is this true?” My throat was so tight, I could hardly speak, so I nodded.
“Tell me what happened,” she said.
“We were coming back from the pasture, and someone was following us. At least, at first I thought it was a person, because it was walking on two legs. But then it snarled at us and dropped onto all fours. It looked like a big old mountain lion, but it couldn’t be that, it had to be something magical. Moonpearl fought it and chased it into the woods.”
“It sounds like a wampus cat,” Timothy said. He twined around my ankles.
“What’s a wampus cat?” Allegra asked.
“Legend has it that the first wampus cat was a Cherokee woman who changed into a mountain lion. Although why anyone would want to turn back into a human when you can be feline, I’m sure I don’t know,” Timothy explained. “Their usual range is in the mountains, so this is most troubling.”
“Why is that?” Dr. B. asked.
“Such powerful creatures don’t leave their homes without a reason. I have never heard of one in this area before. You were fortunate you were with the lady.” Timothy’s tail was lashing back and forth. He looked up into my face.
“They don’t like men. Or boys. Few survive an encounter with a wampus cat. They are not kindly creatures. But they are also harbingers.”
“What’s that?” Allegra demanded.
“Harbingers announce the coming of an event or person. Wampus cats are death harbingers. Seeing a wampus cat means that someone will die soon,” Timothy said.
“Does that mean Moonpearl is going to die? Or one of her babies?” Allegra cried.
And I had left Moonpearl alone in the forest with that. I pulled away from Dr. B. “I have to go find her, I have to find Moonpearl!” I couldn’t let that wampus cat be right. I couldn’t let Moonpearl die.
“I’ll go with you!” Allegra cried.
“You’re not going anywhere, either of you,” Dr. B. said, grabbing each of us by an arm. “It’s too dark to find anything in those woods now.”
“But Mom, she needs us!” Allegra shouted, trying to pull away.
“Moonpearl has survived on her own all this time just fine. I doubt we could find her if she doesn’t want to be found. If she wants our help, she will come back.” Dr. B. pulled us in the direction of the house.
Allegra didn’t look happy at this. I wasn’t too happy about it myself. “But she needs us!” Allegra protested.
“Right now, what we need to do is have dinner. Eric, I’ll call your father and tell him you will be eating with us. Now come inside, both of you,” said Dr. B., her arms crossed.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. Allegra looked mulish, like she was going to say more, but she twirled around and fled into the house.
I picked up Timothy, rubbing my face on his fur for comfort. I followed Dr. B. inside. She had me sit on a chair in the exam room so she could clean up my face. Timothy stayed on my lap, purring while she worked.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. You don’t need stitches after all,” she said as she dabbed some Neosporin on my busted lip.
“Thanks,” I said. Timothy must’ve decided I was all better now, so he hopped down. I washed my hands, inspecting the damage in the mirror. My bottom lip was still puffy and a bruise was starting to show on my chin. It looked like I had been in a fight, but I hadn’t fought back at all.
Georgie was in the clinic kitchen, dishing out the evening meal for the patients that were staying overnight. As I helped her, I explained what happened, while Dr. B. went upstairs.
“I should’ve helped her fight that thing, that wampus cat,” I told Georgie.
“It sounds like everything happened so fast, there wasn’t anything you could have done. Besides, any naturalist will tell you that there is nothing more dangerous than a mother animal defending her own. Moonpearl was protecting you,” she said.
That made me feel a bit better, that Moonpearl defended me because I was hers.
“Eric.” Dr. B. was standing in the doorway. She looked serious.
“Did one of the patients die?” I asked. “Was it Tank?” Tank was a pit bull; he was pretty chewed up and Dr. B. suspected he was a fight dog.
“I talked to your dad. Your grandmother’s had a heart attack and is in the hospital. He wants you to stay here tonight,” she said.
“Is she gonna be OK?”
“It’s too soon to tell. Your dad’s going to stay there with her,” Dr. B. said.
“She’s gonna be all right though; she’s coming home for Christmas,” I said. Could this day get any worse? First Moonpearl was lost in the woods, now Grandma was in the hospital.
“I hope so,” Dr. B. replied. The clinic front door buzzed, and she glanced down the hall.
“Are you going to be OK?” she asked me.
I nodded, getting real busy with the dishes. She gave me a long look before leaving. Allegra and Georgie were both smart enough not to ask me about it. We all just went about our business, feeding the animals, cleaning up, like nothing was wrong.
We had dinner upstairs, in the new kitchen made out of my dad’s old bedroom. It was strange, seeing his old closet turned into a pantry full of food and a refrigerator where his dresser used to be. Dr. B. made popcorn shrimp, my favorite, but I could hardly taste it.
Dad called after dinner. I wanted to talk to Grandma, but she was sleeping.
“She’s stable for now,” he told me.
“Then she’ll get better soon—it can’t be that bad, right?”
“I don’t know, son. They’re doing everything they can. Steve will come pick you up tomorrow evening and bring you over. You behave yourself, now.” I said I would and we hung up. Steve was spending the night with his friend Richard; they were planning to drive to Charlotte for the football game in the afternoon.
Dr. B. made up a bed for me on the couch in the room they used for a den.
After I brushed my teeth and got under the blanket, Allegra came out of her room. She handed me a necklace with a big braided white disk strung on it.
“I made it with twice as much hair as the bracelets. Maybe if she wears it touching her chest, it will help her heart. You can give it to her when you visit.”
“Thanks,” I said, and slipped the necklace over my head. I held it to my nose and caught a faint whiff of damp earth and roses. Allegra must have gathered some of the hair that day for the smell to still be there. It made me feel a bit better. Surely Moonpearl would come back in the morning.
After Allegra went to bed and Dr. B. closed the door to her room, I lay back down on the couch, listening to the night noises of the house. It sounded different from when Grandma lived here. It had some of the same creaks and the grandfather clock was still ticking, but now there were some rustling sounds from the animals in the clinic.
I don’t know how long I lay ther
e, not sleeping, just fretting about Moonpearl and Grandma. Under the ticking of the clock, there came a soft humming sound. It got louder, the notes sliding up and down, almost like singing. It was coming from downstairs. I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could, but the third step from the bottom still creaked—that hadn’t changed. The singing stopped for a moment, and so did I.
The humming started back up. Definitely coming from the clinic ward room. I eased the door open and peered inside. Tank was asleep in his crate. The birds had their covers over their cages. Across the room, near the window, I could just make out a dark shape in the glass jar of squonk water. There was a tiny swish, and the singing filled the room, sweet and rolling, like a lullaby.
I listened for a long time, standing there until my ankle started throbbing. I must have made a noise when I shifted my feet, because the singing cut off with a “bloop” of water. I waited, but the singing didn’t resume. I slipped into the room.
“Hey, little squonk,” I whispered. “I know you think you’re ugly, but that was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.”
I eased down on the floor, taking care not to jar my bad ankle, and rested my head against a cabinet. This had been the worst day of my life. But I got to hear a squonk sing. There was still magic here.
Tank was snoring softly. The room was warm. Dr. B. kept it hotter in here than the rest of the house so the animals wouldn’t get chilled. It smelled like disinfectant, fur, and wet newspaper, the mix of things that came from taking care of creatures who needed help. I closed my eyes, breathing in those good smells.
Chapter Seventeen
“ERIC, WAKE UP,” SAID DR. B., shaking my shoulder gently. I opened my eyes, only to see the floor underneath the row of cages. It was pretty dusty under there, with little bits of kibble scattered around. I sat up.
“I must have fallen asleep. Dr. B., I heard the squonk singing! It was beautiful!”
“Really? I’m envious, I haven’t heard it yet,” she said, reaching down to help me up. I slipped in a wet spot on the floor and she caught me by the arm.
The Unicorn in the Barn Page 9
