One Horn to Rule Them All: A Purple Unicorn Anthology

by Lisa Mangum

  * * *

  Alice woke with the sunrise the next morning. She pulled on a pair of pants and her orange West Communities YMCA Summer Day Camp T-shirt. The shirt was starting to get tight across her shoulders, and moth holes let the light in on one side. She had received it with a free summer camp membership, an anonymous donation for underprivileged youth in her neighborhood. It was the best summer Alice ever had.

  She snuck down the stairs and shut the front door quietly behind her. Alice walked down the gravel road to Greggs’ brick house.

  Greggs sat on an old, wooden rocking chair on the front porch, smoking a cigarette and holding a steaming mug.

  “Mornin’,” Greggs hooted.

  “Morning,” Alice replied.

  “Those the best shoes you got?” Greggs asked, scratching under his cowboy hat.

  Irritated, Alice replied, “These are the only shoes I’ve got.”

  Greggs shrugged. “Those’ll have to do. I’ll get you a pair of boots when those wear down in a week or two.”

  Alice bit her lip, feeling heat brush her cheeks. The girls at school made fun of her raggedy tennis shoes. She had to put duct tape on the laces to keep them from breaking.

  A cloud of dust ushered in a new, green pickup truck on Greggs’ drive. A sharply dressed, heavyset man got out of the cab. His stomach spilled over the top of his jeans, and his face was the color of a cherry tomato. He carried a hunting knife about the size of her forearm on his belt.

  “Hi there, John. How’re y’all doin’?” The man approached, tipping his hat.

  The man gave Alice a curious look and leaned closer. Alice noted that he smelled like mint and chewing tobacco. “And who are you, little lady?”

  “She’s helping me for the summer, Artie.” Greggs’ bones creaked as he pushed himself from the rocking chair. He moved down the steps and stood next to Alice.

  “Taking care of the unicorns?” The man winked at Alice, who stiffened at the mention of the creatures.

  Greggs’ face remained ornery and cold. “You know I ain’t got no unicorns, Mayor. Those were nothin’ but parlor tricks my daddy put on for out-of-towners.”

  “Really? Was it a parlor trick that killed my daddy’s brother when he was just a boy?”

  “He was drunk and trespassing on our land. Wisdom says he was lookin’ for trouble. Besides, it was half a century ago. I think it’s time you stopped beatin’ that dead horse.”

  Mayor Artie’s face soured.

  “What can I do you for, Artie?” Greggs grumbled.

  “I know you’ve heard about the coyotes eating the local cattle. The Browns’ farm was attacked just last night. I’m stopping by all the farms out here, making sure your livestock is safe.”

  “Okay,” Greggs mumbled.

  “I’ve been talking to Sheriff Martell. We’ve been thinkin’ about paying all you farmers a courtesy visit. Checkin’ on your fences, securing them up for you.”

  “Well that’s mighty kind of you, Mayor. But I’d rather no one come on my property without due cause.” Greggs folded his arms in front of his chest.

  “Coyotes gettin’ at your livestock ain’t proper cause?” Artie raised an eyebrow.

  “Nothin’ I can’t handle myself.”

  Artie narrowed his eyes, taking a step back toward the truck. “I don’t suppose one of your animals have been making a mess of those cattle? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “I don’t got any animal that could’ve done that. Besides, I’ve talked to some of the other farmers. They say the marks are too clean to be coyotes.”

  “Maybe you’ve got animals on that farm of yours that could make some clean marks. In fact, I’m sure you do. We’ll see what the other farmers think of that. I’ll be back, John, and I won’t come alone. You can count on that.”

  The mayor hopped into the cab, kicking the truck into reverse. A cloud of dust followed as it barreled down the gravel road.

  “What’s stuck up his butt?” Alice looked to Greggs.

  Greggs sighed and uncrossed his arms. “That is one meddlin’, schemin’ man. Always looking for an excuse to poke around my land. C’mon, I’ll tell you about it around back.”

  He put out his cigarette, eyed Alice’s shoes once more, and walked into the house, holding open the door behind him.

  The sparse walls and mostly empty rooms made every footfall echo. The few items in the living room to the right—a couch, a folded-up blanket, a coffee table—trapped the smell of stale cigarette smoke.

  A white blur of dog came reeling from the hallway and jumped up on the old man.

  “Down, you damn dogs,” Greggs grumbled, although he gave a gentle pet on each of the two heads.

  Alice’s eyes went wide. “That dog’s got two heads.”

  “Sure do. This here is Charlies.”

  The white bulldog set upon Alice with reckless abandon, almost knocking her over. The two heads licked at her arms and hands with their stinking, slobbery tongues. Alice cringed at her coated hands and wiped them on her pant legs.

  “Keep a’walkin’, or they’ll just keep lickin’ at ya.”

  Alice followed Greggs as Charlies jumped against her back legs, making her knees bend with every other step.

  Greggs paused briefly in the kitchen, where he gathered six apples, a stalk of celery, a pack of Pall Malls, and five boxes of black hair dye in a basket.

  When they reached the back door, Greggs quickly shut the screen behind Alice, trapping Charlies in the house. Both of Charlies’ heads whined, and its front legs scratched at the door. Greggs ignored him and continued into the backyard.

  A big, brown barn stood in front of an overgrown field, the paint peeling from its aging wood. A molding billboard rested against the side of it.

  “All right, now,” Greggs said, stopping her before he opened the gate to the field. “You strike me as the type that’s seen some things. Didn’t even look shocked to see the unicorn in the back yesterday.”

  Alice thought of her mother, who was often passed out from taking and mixing too many drugs. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few things.”

  “An old soul. That’s what you got. I can always tell when someone’s got one.” Greggs studied Alice with his beady, sky-blue eyes, and Alice tried her best not to squirm.

  “See that sign over there?” Greggs pointed to the aging but still colorful sign propped up against the side of the barn.

  Alice looked at it and squinted. “I can’t make it out.”

  “It says The Greggs Family Zoo of Odd and Marvelous Creatures.” Greggs leaned against the fence and lit a new cigarette. “My daddy bought this land for cheap from the government way back when. Wanted to make a name for himself raising cows, chickens, pigs, and the like. So he got this land, and he started clearin’ it out and puttin’ up this fence.

  “One day, he was workin’ as the sun was just settin’ down. He told me he felt a chill all down his backside, and when he looked up, a little bit of the sky had turned black right above him. Daddy cleared out of the way—no tellin’ if that was gonna turn into a tornado or some such. But he kept watchin’ it. A creature with big ol’ wings fell from that black smudge of sky. Damn near died on its way down. Daddy took it to the barn and nursed it back to health, and the thing just stuck around. Not a friendly creature by any means, but it didn’t go nowhere. So Daddy named him Wayne and let him stay.

  “Not a few months later, and Daddy found a strange horse runnin’ around on his land. Its hair was purple in the sunlight. And you can guess what it had stickin’ out of its head.”

  “A horn,” I offered.

  “Yep. It was a unicorn,” Greggs confirmed. He shifted his weight from the fence, sucked on the end of his cigarette, and opened the gate for Alice.

  “Now, my daddy was no dummy. He knew them cows and pigs were gonna cost money, but he spent all he had buyin’ up the land. See, he and my momma came up with the idea of this little roadside zoo.

  “You’d see backyard zoos all over Ne
braska and Missouri back then. People had one or two jungle cats, maybe a bear. But there wasn’t a zoo quite like this one. No, sir. These strange creatures kept on fallin’ from the sky, and Daddy kept right on collectin’ ’em. He took good care of ’em, and so did me and my brother. Daddy made a lot of money on the zoo, at first.

  “But the thing is, people don’t believe what they ain’t never seen before. The zoo became a laughingstock in town. People called us crooks. Said we put cheap things on regular animals to make ’em look funny.

  “One night, some local boys got drunk and hopped the fence. They wanted to see how we put the horns on the unicorns. They wanted to see how we fooled everybody.

  “Well, it was no joke. One of them boys spooked a unicorn so bad that it stabbed him. Went clean through his stomach.” Greggs shook his head. “That was Mayor Artie’s uncle. Of course, Artie wasn’t even born at that time. But he’s still got to remind me of the event as if he had been. He’s been obsessed with that story ever since he was a boy. He’s taken it on himself to investigate. He thinks I’m housing hellhounds or something evil. I’ve never seen a man so convinced of something in all my life.

  “Anyway. Daddy had to close down the zoo after that boy died. Daddy died a few months after that. We had enough money to keep the farm goin’. And these creatures keep comin’ from that same spot in the sky.”

  “That’s amazing, Mr. Greggs,” Alice said.

  “Just Greggs, kid.” He looked amused.

  “Okay, Greggs. Did your dad ever figure out what that thing is? Up in the sky?” Alice asked.

  “Nobody knows what it is. It’s like some other place started throwing their trash through it. All these unwanted animals and such. I think my daddy figured it was our job to take care of these dysfunctional creatures. So that’s what we continued to do after he died. Now it’s just me, as you can see. And I’m so old I’m practically growin’ cobwebs.”

  Greggs started toward the barn, carrying the basket full of odds and ends.

  “So you’ve got all these unicorns in your barn?” Alice asked.

  “Most of ’em. Can’t keep ’em locked up all day, though. So I got the idea to dye ’em. You know, with hair dye?” Greggs shook a box of dye in the basket. “As soon as a new one comes through, I color the purple coat black. If anyone sees one of ’em from the road, all they see are black horses. You can’t even see the bone on their heads from that distance.” Greggs smiled in satisfaction.

  “Clever.” Alice wondered if Greggs didn’t have one or two screws loose.

  “I know,” Greggs said, turning toward the barn.

  A hissing sound stopped them both in their tracks.

  “Careful, now,” Greggs whispered.

  Alice noticed a dark figure on the barn roof, blocking the sun. The figure spread its enormous, black wings and jumped from the roof. It made a twirling and hissing sound as it dove. Then it screeched.

  Greggs casually pulled Alice clear from the dark creature’s path.

  Alice clutched Greggs’ muscular forearm in panic.

  The creature smacked into the ground face-first.

  “And that’s Wayne,” Greggs said, leading Alice closer to the incapacitated creature.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Alice grimaced.

  “Daddy took to calling him a werebat. You know those stories about werewolves? Well, one of those mixed with a bat. Don’t he look just like that?” Greggs squatted next to Wayne and carefully rolled the creature onto its back.

  Alice’s stomach turned with disgust. Wayne’s body, where it wasn’t covered in matted, black fur, was slick and shiny like plastic wrap. Dark dents and scars lined its hairless head. The bridge of its nose was ribbed, and huge nostrils flared at the base.

  No matter how repulsive the werebat was, Alice felt a pang of pity for it. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Greggs sighed and gathered Wayne in his arms. “Can you grab that basket, kid?” he said over his shoulder as he walked to the barn.

  Alice grabbed the basket and jogged after him.

  Greggs raised his voice. “I think ol’ Wayne here is supposed to be one of them horrific creatures. Like the ones on The Twilight Zone.”

  “What’s The Twilight Zone?” Alice asked.

  “Oh, hell,” the old man laughed, “never mind. Can you grab the door?”

  Alice slid open the enormous barn door.

  “Anyway,” Greggs said going into the barn, “Wayne can’t fly. I think he’s supposed to, but I ain’t sure. He keeps tryin’. And he keeps on fallin’. So your first chore is to keep an eye out for Wayne. Can you do that?” Greggs plopped the creature onto a large, wooden worktable.

  “What if he lunges at me again? I can’t carry him around,” Alice said, evaluating Wayne’s weight.

  “He’s actually pretty light. See?” Greggs hooked his finger around one of Wayne’s ankles and half-lifted the creature from the table. “Don’t worry, kid, he’s all scream, no bite. Knocked all his teeth out from fallin’ so many times, anyway.”

  “Okay,” Alice said, still unsure. “Just carry him in here if I find him like that?”

  “Sure thing. Oh, and he gets six apples a day. Only the red ones, no Granny Smiths. Just mush ’em up real good and leave ’em out somewhere easy to find. I don’t think he sees real well.” Greggs unloaded the apples next to the worktable. “Now, ready to see some geese?”

  “I guess so,” Alice said, following Greggs as he exited the barn.

  Greggs led them to a chicken coop the size of a playhouse. Alice peeked inside. Gray, long-necked geese sat on nests. The white males flapped to the doorway, threatening Alice and Greggs away from the females.

  Something clanged down a metal shoot below the coop. Bending over a bucket, Greggs picked up a marbled, brown egg. He rapped his knuckles on it. “Solid wood. About as useful as a sixth toe.”

  Alice reached for the wooden egg in wonder.

  “I don’t know what else to use ’em for but my whittlin’.” Greggs grabbed a second egg from the bucket and stuck it in his pocket. “Just put ’em on the table on the back porch. Also, feed the geese a couple handfuls of grain a day.” Greggs pointed to a large, broken-down ice chest. “Feed’s in there.”

  Alice took note of the feed, and then quickly followed Greggs past the geese. He walked quickly, taking them to the edge of a small, smelly lagoon.

  “And these”—he pulled out the pack of Pall Malls from the basket—“are for the merlady. I call her Marilyn.”

  “Merlady?” Alice’s eyes bulged.

  Greggs whistled. The soupy surface of the lagoon broke, revealing the ratty, orange hair of the merlady.

  As she pushed the top half of her body onto the small, grassy bank, Alice couldn’t help but curl her lips in disgust. Marilyn’s face wrinkled with extreme age. Bags of skin sagged from her arms and waist. Her breasts hung down to her bellybutton like deflated party balloons. Three slits on either of her cheeks opened and shut. Gills, Alice realized.

  “Hey there, Marilyn,” Greggs cooed at the wretched crone. “This is Alice. She’ll be bringing you your cigarettes from now on. But don’t you worry. I’ll be here at sunset for our evening smoke, like usual.”

  Greggs squatted next to the merlady. He stuck a smoke in her mouth and lit the end for her. Marilyn sucked in deep. Using her brown fingernails, she plucked the cigarette from her lips and exhaled. She let out a satisfied-sounding sigh.

  “I don’t know if she knows what I’m saying, but she sure likes her Pall Malls.” Greggs pulled one out for himself, lighting the end.

  The two flicked the tips, letting the wind carry the ash, and looked out at the land. Alice sighed, crossed her arms, and watched the lagoon.

  As she watched, the murky water parted again, this time revealing a three-headed snake twice the size of Greggs. Greggs’ head was turned away from the lagoon, and the snake came closer and closer to the bank.

  “Greggs,” Alice whispered sharply to warn him.
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  He turned his head to the snake. The heads hissed, their green scales and black eyes sparkling in the sun. “Oh, don’t worry, kid. They’re vegetarians. Throw some celery to ’em.”

  Alice’s hands shook as she peeled ribs of celery off the stalks. She limply threw the pieces in front of the snake. The three heads darted to the celery in the water, snapping the crisp ribs in their mouths. When they finished, the heads turned to Alice and hissed.

  “Well, keep goin’,” Greggs encouraged.

  Alice threw the ribs carefully until the stalk was gone. The hydra hissed once more at Greggs, then slid back into the lagoon.

  Greggs put out his cigarette stub, stood up and brushed off the back of his jeans. “Why don’t you light another one for Marilyn before we go? Takes her no less than ten minutes to do it on her own with them webbed fingers.”

  Alice exhaled, dreading the experience. Her hands still shook from feeding the hydra. As she flicked the flint to ignite the cigarette dangling from the merlady’s lips, Alice remembered lighting cigarettes for her mother. She asked Alice to light them when she was too strung out to do it herself.

  “You okay, kid?”

  Alice shook her head. “Yeah. It just smells out here, is all.”

  “Yeah, it does. But they seem to prefer it.” Greggs held up his hands. “Don’t ask me. I don’t get it.”

  Greggs started back toward the barn, leaving Alice to one last, lingering look at the saggy merlady.

  Alice ran to catch up with Greggs just as he opened the barn door. Greggs pointed to the empty table where he had set Wayne. “See? Gone already. Sneaking off, doing his sneaky werebat things.”

  Alice nodded, surprised that the werebat survived his earlier plunge.

  Greggs pointed beyond the table to two long, wooden rows. They walked farther into the barn. In each stall, a black unicorn stood. Most contently chewed on hay, absently watching the old man and young girl.

  “I’ve got thirteen unicorns. A few of ’em pass away when they fall, but most of ’em make it out okay.”

  Alice squinted at one of the unicorns. An unusual creature slept peacefully on its back. “Is that a cat or something?” she asked.