The High Cost of Unicorns

Nikki lived in a barn, which wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Every morning she woke up in a small studio that comprised the barn’s second floor, and was surprised to find the room full of magic. On winter mornings, the light was soft and delicious, like butter. In the summer, it was a harsh gold that came crashing through the window and splintered into triangles on the floor. Sometimes it was so beautiful, she had to remind herself how to breathe. Today, the light moved slowly, meandering over the window sill and tiptoeing across the opposite wall.

She sat in silence for a minute, cataloging the things she could hear. The family of songbirds that lived under one of the eaves, a nicker from a horse awaiting breakfast in a nearby stall, a bleat of a goat penned somewhere outside. Nikki smiled when she remembered that it was Saturday – tonight was Cecily Thompson’s birthday party. An evening gown hung from the door of her closet, a column of purple silk that she’d bought on the internet, fully intending to return it after she wore it.

Without getting up, Nikki reached out and pulled her black notebook from her nightstand. She opened it, sliding her finger between the pages that were blank and the pages that refused to lie flat, heavy with ink. She wanted to check the numbers one more time. The top of the page said “August.” Then, in neat rows: Studio rent: $800, Mari rent: $500, Food: $500, Random crap: $300. Underneath that, she’d listed all the odd jobs she’d done this month. Cleaning the Johnson’s house: $150/week. Gardening for Carolyn: $120. Babysitting for Jenny: $600.

After tonight, she’d get to stop counting. After tonight, she’d be making money that would get comfortable in her bank account, instead of vanishing on the first of the month. Tonight she’d be all dressed up, sashaying through a mansion with her beloved horse, and getting paid to do it.

Cecily Thompson, the wealthy woman who owned a mansion just down the dirt road from the farm where Nikki lived and worked, was known for hosting extravagant, costumed birthday parties. This year, the theme was fantasy, and guests were required to dress up as otherworldly creatures. Cecily had hired Nikki to dress Mari up as a unicorn and parade her around the party. Mari was a gypsy horse that Nikki had owned since she was 15.

Cecily had been adamant that her party needed two unicorns, so Nikki had invited Dara and her horse to come too. There were a thousand things to do: manes to be braided with ribbons, glitter to be applied, horns to be affixed. Nikki’s head started to fill with tasks, and she felt her anxiety rising. She needed to run, to burn off this nervous energy that cooked in her bones and built up in her muscles and limbs. She chugged a glass of water, then stepped into running shorts and out into the cool morning, before she was too awake to change her mind.

***

Dara arrived right on time, a cloud of dust following her truck like a tail behind a galloping horse.

Nikki started hollering as soon as Dara parked, a smile stretched across her face. “There ain’t no party like a unicorn party, baby, ‘cause a unicorn party don’t…start without us!” Nikki was practically bouncing, she was so excited.

“Hey, hey!” Dara stepped out of her truck and started shaking her hips to the pop music that drifted out of the open door, and Nikki knew she’d invited the perfect friend to work this gig. “I cannot wait to party in the house that Coke built.”

Cecily Thompson’s fortune had come from her years as a marketing director for Coca-Cola, so, despite never having set foot on the property, Nikki’s friends referred to the mansion as “the coke house” or something similar.

“Yeah, me too, I’ve never been to one of her parties, but I’ve heard so many stories.” Nikki led Mari out of her stall and tied her up at the wash rack.

“You think any of the old rich guys are going to get wasted and demand a unicorn ride?”

“God damn, I hope so!”

Both girls spent the next three hours scrubbing dirt and mud from every inch of their horses. Usually Nikki loved the feeling of dirt on her skin, loved it when the water ran brown after it hit her hands. But today, the dirt and grime of the barn were foes to be tamed, forces to be held at bay.

***

Several hours later, Nikki, Dara and their two unicorns walked up the road to the coke house, their hair, manes and tails silky and lifted by the gentle breeze. Nikki kept tucking her hair behind her ears, trying to keep her straightened blonde strands out of her lip gloss.

Although she’d driven past this house a thousand times, Nikki never caught more than a glimpse of it, thanks to the forest that surrounded the structure. From far away, the trees looked like soldiers and the forest looked like an army, but up close, Nikki realized the trees were more like small gems that surrounded a large diamond. She’d heard stories of love affairs that began between these trees, fueled by fine champagne and moonlight.

It was impossible to enter a party with two horses without making an entrance. As they approached the outdoor gathering, someone let out a gasp of wonder, and Nikki felt the tenor of the party shift. Suddenly, dozens of eyes were the girls and their horses, and Nikki smiled like a beauty queen at the ones who didn’t look away. But it was clear that they’d interrupted a presentation, and Nikki stopped Mari and turned her eyes to the man who was speaking.

“And that’s why, dear Cecily, I’ve gifted you this sculpture. It’s an original Kahn and I do hope you’ll cherish it.” A man in a top hat was standing at the edge of the sculpture garden, his pompous tone lending an incongruous air to his generous gesture. “They’re exceedingly rare, but I was able to snag one.”

Mrs. Thompson, who in all her years had never received such an opulent gift, even at her own party, tried to be gracious. For one thing, it was a rather crude piece – something a high schooler might read as a phallus -- and for another, it didn’t match any of the other sculptures in her collection. Most of all, she could tell when someone was trying to buy her affection and attention.

“Thank you so very much, my friend.” Cecily’s mouth smiled, but her eyes didn’t crinkle, and Nikki thought she was either working to hide an emotion, or she’d recently had plastic surgery. “What a brilliant addition to the collection.” Cecily clapped her hands in what she hoped passed for delight.

Blessedly, this brought an end to the gifts. The sun was beginning to set and the guests, in clusters of three or four, turned their bodies westward to watch the sky change colors as they continued their chatter.

Just then, someone popped a bottle of champagne and a faint cheer rose from a small crowd. Mari, unaccustomed to the party life, tensed at the sound.

“Hey Mari, hey,” Nikki was careful to keep her voice soft and level. “It’s ok,” Nikki kept repeating these two words like a prayer, even after Mari started pawing the ground with her front leg. This was a bad sign -- Nikki knew what happened next. “Please, Mari. Shhhh, I’m here.”

But Mari wasn’t listening. She reared up on two legs, tossing her head violently. Nikki held onto the rope with all her might, but she was no match for fifteen hundred pounds of terrified.

The rope slipped out of Nikki’s fingers, and off Mari went, her lead rope trailing on the ground behind her. Nikki’s first thought was to look around for something green, something to lure Mari back. This was ridiculous – they were in a garden. Everything was green, but Nikki could hardly just yank a plant out of the ground. And then, for several seconds, Nikki was paralyzed by the beauty of her horse, at a full gallop, silhouetted against the sunset sky. Then the adrenaline kicked in and she remembered where she was. She grabbed her gown in one hand, hiking it above her knees so she could chase her horse across the most beautiful landscape she’d ever seen.

But then Mari took a sharp right turn, towards the sculpture garden.

Nikki looked on in abject horror, gasping as she watched Mari plant her hooves next to the brand new statue, put her head down and kick her back heels up. There was a stomach-churning sound as Mari, with one fluid two-legged kick, smashed the sculpture into a million little pieces. The party gasped, with someone saying “Oh, oh, oh.”

Nikki’s stomach hit the floor and she was certain that she’d vomit. She sprinted over to Mari, who had decided that she was done galloping, and would rather stand proudly in the wreckage of a rare sculpture.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Nikki was frantic. “I’ll pay for the sculpture. What did it cost?” Nikki thought of her black book, of the hours she’d have to spend scrubbing the bathrooms at the Johnson’s house.

A crowd had gathered, and the man with the top hat stepped closest to her. “Well, it’s rather rude for you to ask, but if you must know…”

Cecily, emerging from the crowd, cleared her throat, and Top Hat was silent immediately. “Nikki, please don’t worry about it. It was an accident, and I will certainly not require that you replace it. Please, let’s get back to the party.”

Nikki couldn’t feel her legs as she picked up Mari’s lead rope and buried her face into her horse’s neck.

***

Nikki had never been so happy to see her phone read 10 pm. It was time to go home.

Cecily, still resplendent in her gown, handed Nikki a heavy box and said, “We have some leftover champagne from tonight; I’d like to send it home with you. I’ve also attached a note for Mari – please don’t lose it.”

***

Back at the barn, their hands aching from trying to scrub glitter off their unicorns, Nikki and Dara practically fell onto Nikki’s couch.

“Oh my god, I need a drink so badly. What a party, what a shit show.”

“Want to know the best thing about champagne?” Dara’s eyes were afire as she balanced a bottle on her hip and aimed the cork at the ceiling. It flew off with a pop and Nikki smiled with her whole body. “No need for a corkscrew.”

Dara took a swig, then passed the bottle to Nikki. “There’s a note taped to the box, too.”

“Yeah, I figure it’s just a thank you card.”

Dara shrugged and casually swiped the card off the top of the box. “Always open an envelope from a rich person.” She ran her fingers over Mari’s name, enjoying the feeling of ink on heavy, expensive cardstock. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

Dara slid her finger under the flap, trying not to rip the beautiful paper. It gave, and she eased the card out. A piece of paper, small and flimsy, fluttered to the ground in front of the couch. A check. “Yes, fuck yes! I told you. I knew it!” She picked it up. “Let’s see how many zeros this baby has!”

“Seriously? There’s a check? God damn!” Nikki opened the card and everything suddenly felt mysterious and preordained at the same time.

In perfect cursive, the note read:

My dear Mari --

Tonight, you saved me a great deal of trouble, and for that I cannot thank you enough. These funds are for your board and care.

With my appreciation, as always,

Cecily Thompson