Short Story

CATCHING UNICORNS

by

Gary Cadwallader
 

Catching unicorns on New Year's Day is cold work. Zoot had on thick gloves and "Gold Bond" powder and extra socks. He needed bright sunshine and arctic temperatures so that his expelled breath, gray and foggy like clouds, could aid in tracking the unicorns' movements. Zoot needed dim eyesight, but great peripheral vision. He needed a prayer of his own making to ward off concrete monkeys. But mostly, he needed to know good luck from bad.

The luck brought by unicorns can be as sharp and bitter as the blowing snow. His friend, Cleophus Brown, too black and too big at three hundred pounds to be really good at catching unicorns, wouldn't search for them any longer, although he always came along to hold Zoot's bag and pronounce this unicorn as "sincere" or that one as "ill,"--for Cleo's psychic powers were exceptional.

Zoot and his wife, Mitsue, looked for unicorns in overdone yards, those misplaced magical gardens covered with stick-in-the-ground flamingos and pedestal birdbaths. Here, one might find a purple martin house or flower beds spiked with plastic daisies and gnomes. Painted frogs and smooth clay gargoyles stood guard.

Zoot always worked with a group. He stayed with the gang, for safety's sake.

Cleo pronounced the next yard "full" and Mitsue and Zoot set to their tracking, heads moving side to side, but eyes focused on nothing. Their shadows were blue and cold on the heavy snow. Occasionally, the homeowner would look outside, but catching unicorns was invisible work. A woman in pale green hair curlers and pink robe looked right at Zoot and never saw him. Once a man walked outside and started his car. He nearly knocked Mitsue down. She was like snow drifting from the rooftop and he shivered but kept going.

Cleo and Zoot had often speculated on why this was so. Since people no longer believed in magic or unicorns, could it be that they refused to see? Or, was there something special about unicorn hunters? Were they invisible by the nature of their work?

No one knew the answer.

Zoot caught movement to his right and side stepped closer. "It's only a banger," he said and let the little fella go. It waddled off with a disgusted pop.

"Should we let Tommy try?" Mitsue asked. Tommy was Mitsue's son, sullenly trailing behind.

Zoot nodded, though he thought his stepson an idiot. What seventeen-year-old wasn't? But to Zoot, it seemed there was something especially cursed about this boy, as if he were stalked by bad luck.

"We all make our own luck," Zoot had told him. But Tommy always looked at him blank-faced, then retired to the basement to smoke pot and play Nintendo. Tommy was the kid who lied his way out of trouble. Zoot thought it only natural that he was therefore, always in hot water.

"Look at where you were last January," Zoot told him. "You were lying and smoking dope. We were trying to keep you in school. We failed. And where are you this January? Lying and smoking dope and we're trying to keep you from going to jail."

"I didn't do nothing. I was arrested because I'm having a bad life."

"I say you brought it on yourself. I say the universe told you to get it together and you refused, so guess what? The universe turned the heat up under your ass."

Tommy had looked at Zoot like he was a wall. Zoot thought Tommy was brain dead. But they tried to live together for Mitsue's sake.

Mitsue waved Tommy over and he left the relative security of Cleo's bulky shadow and joined in the hunt.

Mitsue caught a little unicorn to show Tommy how. Her bright eyes vacant, hands like claws, chin pushed forward beyond her boobs. And when she caught that flash at her periphery, she pounced.

"Cleo," she yelled.

He came forward. He held her canvas bag aloft. "Sincere," he bellowed then gave back the sack and quickly retreated to the street leaving huge footprints in the snow.

"What was it?" Mitsue asked. Her breath spread like a warm fog.

"You've caught a small financial success, money just when you need it, probably."

Mitsue smiled. Everybody could use a little extra dough.

Then Zoot caught a unicorn too. It was big and fought the sack. Something poked him in the side and drew blood. Zoot could feel sticky liquid trickling down his leg. "Bastard!" he cried out. "I've caught a two-way."

Cleo came to see. "It's vigorous," he said. "Probably great sex."

Zoot winked at Mitsue.

"He gets too much now," she said. "And wants more already. Let him go."

"Hey, I was happy for your catch," Zoot said, meaning it.

Mitsue laughed and looked at Cleo who held his hands up as if to say, "I don't want to know."

"I wanna catch one," Tommy said. "You guys watch me!"

Zoot frowned. "It's not good to draw attention to yourself, Tommy. Unicorn hunting takes tact."

"Ah, what do you know?"

Zoot threw up his hands and turned away. Tommy wasn't his kid. He'd often told Cleo, "God didn't make Cocker Spaniels. Man bred them. And I didn't make Tommy… but I got to live with him to keep Mitsue happy."

Cleo always told him to quit putting bad vibes out in the universe. "It's bad luck, Zoot. You've done well for yourself by being kind and making sure your luck stayed good. You've been blessed. Don't mess it up."

Cleo was right. Zoot had a good life. Few people were lucky enough to do what they wanted. Zoot counted his blessings. Today, in the crisp snow, Zoot said a little prayer for Tommy. "Lord, keep him safe."

"Shit," Tommy said. "I can't see the damn things. Where are they?"

"Well, you gotta stay quiet, Tommy," Mitsue said. "Look for them where you can't see. Look out of the corners of your eyes."

"You're a nutcase, Mom," he said.

"Just do it," Zoot said.

Tommy tried jutting his chin out like he'd seen Mitsue doing. Nothing seemed to happen, then after the hard sun shimmering on the snow began to blind him and his eyes were watering, he must have seen something for he turned quickly to his left. "I feel them!" he cried. "They're right here, just beyond my reach."

"Spin around the opposite way," Zoot said. "Grab 'em quick."

Tommy spun to his right. Zoot and Mitsue could both hear a clunking sound as his arm obviously made contact.

"Ow," Tommy said and put a bloody finger into his mouth. "Damn thing got me."

But they began to laugh for it was only a small cut, and from the shaking of Tommy's canvas bag, it was clear he'd made a catch. "Wait for Cleo," Zoot said.

Tommy was already looking in the bag. His face turned white and his nose began to bleed. "What the hell?" he said.

"I said, 'Wait for Cleo!'"

"Too late," Cleo said. "He's got something bad. I can feel it."

Tommy was crying. He dropped his bag and staggered towards his mom. Mitsue grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "Tommy, what's wrong?" she yelled.

Tommy's nosebleed was small at first, then gushed from his face like a waving red flag. Zoot grabbed Tommy's bag and held it at arm's length. His boots squished in the snow as he headed for the street.

"What the hell we got here, Cleo?" Zoot asked.

Cleo sniffed around the bag. His breath steamed in and out like a horse. "It's not good," he said. "I smell disease."

"Damn!"

"Let me have it," Cleo said. Zoot handed him the bag and Cleo kicked it into the street. A small brown thing scrambled out and huffed at them. Zoot and Cleo were between it and it's home. "Don't let it back in the yard," Cleo said.

It came at them, horned lowered like a bull. Zoot gave it a kick, but not before he got a good goring.

"Stomp him!" Cleo yelled. "Kill it!"

The brown unicorn was back on his feet in the slushy street, its black mane waving in the cold wind. It was slipping as it tried to run at them. Zoot brought up a big boot and stepped on the unicorn's back. There was an awful squeal. Zoot thought it felt like a rat under his foot. Cleo joined in, kicking the unicorn's head. Finally, the horn came off and blood gushed from its forehead. The unicorn disappeared with a pop. Cleo and Zoot looked at each other.

Mitsue screamed.

They turned to find Tommy had passed out in her arms. He was bleeding steadily from the ears now, as well as the nose. "What'll we do?" Zoot asked.

"You've got to give him some of your luck, Zoot. It's the only way he's going to get out of this."

"I don't have anything that potent."

"I know," Cleo said. "You're gonna have to catch something really good."

"Shit, Cleo… the good stuff is way in the back."

"And you can't take us with you," Mitsue said. "We'd be too obvious."

"You'll have to face them by yourself," Cleo said.

Zoot shuddered. He'd been on personal quests before. But always when he'd had a full bag of outstanding luck. Enough so that he was invincible. Today's hunt had just started. He felt naked. He'd probably be okay, unless he hit a sticker… or a deuce.

He took a final look at Tommy and Mitsue. Snow flew from the roof and spread across them making them look like Michelangelo's "Pieta" - a white, marble Jesus dead in his mother's arms.

Zoot pulled his collar up and walked around the side. There was a concrete gargoyle with a chipped wing at the corner. It tried to bite him, but Zoot deftly sidestepped and kept on going. The snow was deeper here - up to his knees. He was panting by the time he reached the back gate.

Damn, Zoot thought. I'll never get this gate open… got to climb over… which means I've got no fast exit.

His rubber boots slipped, but he got over the gate. The backyard was eerily still as if things were waiting for him -- things not sincere, but ill intended. Things waited with concrete claws and porcelain teeth, things with dagger-like splinters and hard brick fists. And somewhere among these sick things there must also be hope and good luck. Zoot could smell it. He could always smell it.

He was a lucky man.

Something crashed against his ankle. It drew blood and he fell sideways into the snow. The snow was up his nose and in his eyes. Something was jumping on his legs. He felt the bite of a concrete monkey and Zoot kicked hard and pushed it back. He crawled away and felt something brush against his cheek. Then there was a pin-point of pain above his jaw.

He pulled a unicorn's broken horn out of his face. Zoot looked at it strangely. It was rough and twisted like a seashell. The unicorn that it belonged to was whimpering and scampering behind a barren, snow-covered oak. Zoot got a glimpse of its gray and white mottled coloring - it looked like a slug and he was suddenly depressed.

How could he possibly go on? His chances of a successful hunt were poor. His leg was bleeding profusely. He had a hole in his cheek. And Tommy was already in trouble with the law. More misfortune for him was probably a certainty. What was the use? he wondered.

All Zoot wanted was to lay down and rest. His eyes felt so heavy. His knees were cold from crawling through the wet snow. His pants were soaked. He just needed to sleep for a few moments.

Just to sleep….

Suddenly, he felt big hands pulling him to his feet. He looked up to see Cleo's welcome black face. "Get up and get going," Cleo said. "Whatcha think, you got all day?"

"Tired," Zoot said.

"Poor baby." Cleo stripped Zoot's coat and clothes off and rubbed his body with snow until his skin was red. Zoot shivered, but the color was coming back into his eyes.

"Dammit, Clee. You're freezing me."

"S'okay… Mitsue thinks you're hot stuff."

Zoot managed a weak chuckle. "What you doing in the back yard, Clee? I thought you were scared of these little bastards?"

"I am," he said.

Something was nuzzling Zoot's bare leg. He looked down and saw nothing. Then he looked away and saw a small bright unicorn. He picked it up and bagged it.

"Intuition," Cleo said. "That's a good one. Use it! Make snap decisions."

"Okay, I think I'll put my clothes back on."

Cleo picked him up and tossed him back into the snow. "Smart ass," he said.

Zoot landed on top of something and grabbed it without thinking. "I know this one," he said. "Love."

"Give it to Tommy and it will become 'doing what you love'".

"Really?"

"Hey," Cleo said. "Either listen to me when I'm trying to save your life, or I'll wait back in the front where I belong. I don't know how you got me back here with these little devils? Damn pointy things! I still got a scar runs all the way down my leg." He was muttering now. "Thought I was gonna die."

Zoot had his clothes on and was walking with his neck stuck out like a wild turkey. He was sniffing around the bare trees and evergreen bushes. "I think there's a whole hoard of them in here," he said.

"Watch yourself. You're still bleeding."

Zoot felt his sticky pant leg. "Fuck it," he said. He grabbed a broken tree branch and poked the bushes. "How come we never catch 'flying'?"

"You can learn Yogic Flying from Swami Chidandaroop."

"Really? Where do you come up with these things?"

"Esoterica.com." Cleo said. Something ran across his foot and he kicked it to Zoot.

"Got it," Zoot said. "Hey, Enchantment!"

"That's a good one. You're on your way now."

Something big and dark ran from the bushes and hit Zoot in the stomach. He was thrown backwards and landed in white snow, which rapidly turned red.

Cleo ran to him. "What the hell?"

Zoot moaned. Cleo looked scared. There was a huge hole in Zoot's mid-section and blood was gushing everywhere. Cleo looked up and saw a cloven-hoofed unicorn staring at him from across the yard. The evil-looking thing seemed to smile.

"Oh man!" Cleo shivered. "That's freakin Evil or some damn thing. I just know it." He hesitated… then something seemed to glimmer in Cleo's big brown eyes. "You bastard!" he screamed and charged the unicorn.

The unicorn seemed to smirk and then lowered his head. He leapt at Cleo. They met in mid-air with Cleo grabbing at the horn, trying to force the creature's head up and away. Blood was turning Cleo's hands red. This is why I don't try catching these things anymore, his face read.

Another unicorn was on top of Zoot. His wounds were healing rapidly. He opened his eyes and recognized Joy. Then he saw Cleo struggling with the dark thing and he grabbed up the happy unicorn and flung him into the struggle. It bounced off the evil unicorn and ran into the bushes, but Evil was distracted long enough for Cleo to get leverage on him. Cleo used his huge bulk to break off the horn.

The evil unicorn backed away, pus dripping from the open wound. Cleo felt laughter coming from the wounded unicorn. "This is only temporary," it seemed to say. "We'll meet again."

Zoot and Cleo sat in the snow. Great puffs of fog came from their breath. Neither of them had enough strength to speak, but they held hands and Zoot nearly smiled.

"Fuh… fuh… fucking unicorns," Cleo managed to say.

The joyful unicorn came to them and slipped quietly into Zoot's bag. "We have enough to save Tommy," Zoot said.

"We wouldn't be here if you were normal."

"Fuck normal, Cleo. You wouldn't hang out with us if that were the case." Zoot stood up slowly. There wasn't a muscle in his body that didn't hurt. "Let's go. Tommy ain't my kid… but I'll be damned if he dies while he lives with me."

"You think these people will come outside tomorrow and wonder what the hell happened to their bushes?"

Zoot looked around. The ground was covered with footprints. There was blood covering two-thirds of the yard. Zoot waved his arm and spoke the true name of Wonder, a name unknown to Cleo. The blood seeped into the ground. The snow was red, then pink then white again. The bushes began to straighten.

Cleo's eyes popped and Zoot grinned. "That's just so you don't think we wasted the whole day," Zoot said, and he laughed heartily as huge snowflakes began to fall filling in their footprints.



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Gary Cadwallader lives in Kansas City, Mo. Once a painter, he turned to writing as the most visual medium available. His email is: rmcheal2@aol.com.

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