This is my first post in "The Ink Well." It is a short story in response to this week's prompt: "footprint." The instructions are here in case you also want to take part.
The Unicorn Whisperer
Makookoo was a friendly unicorn who lived happily (for the most part) on the edge of a small village in Nunavut. For those who don’t know, Nunavut is a huge, sparsely populated territory of Northern Canada. The people there are the Inuit, who used to be referred to as Eskimo, and still are by those who are not enlightened. Makookoo was, of course, an enlightened unicorn, as most tend to be.
Most people, even Canadians who live in Nunavut, are unaware of the unicorn population in the area, which is something the unicorns prefer.
Makookoo had a good life. He came and left the village as he pleased. The villagers liked him. The husky dogs liked him. Even the polar bears out in the wild liked him, and they pretty much want to eat everyone.
However, he started to wonder whether people liked him for himself or whether it was because he was a unicorn. Many young unicorns go through this type of existential crisis at a certain time in their lives, and it is essential that they resolve it. Otherwise, the unicorn will go on to have mental health issues and be poorly adjusted, and also, it jeopardizes their ability to make rainbows.
I have been a unicorn expert for about 30 years. They asked me to come to speak with Makookoo. I am like a psychologist for unicorns. Some people call me the “Unicorn Whisperer,” but I do my best to discourage that because, as easy-going as most unicorns are, they do find that irritating.
Most people don’t realize that unicorns are complicated. Many don’t even believe in unicorns, which I think is a bad attitude.
When I came to see Makookoo, I was immediately concerned. While he looked happy, he did not look nearly as happy as a unicorn ought to appear. Typically, they are in a constant state of bliss. It might be hard for a lay observer to tell, but if you know the signs, it is obvious.
For example, the average unicorn emits sparkles from his forehead horn at a rate of approximately five million sparkles per minute. In case you are concerned about the environmental impact, the sparkles counteract pollution, and have the side effect of making people feel better and behave better towards one another.
I could see that Makookoo was not emitting the usual quantity of sparkles. I pulled out my Sparkle Calipers and measured, just to make sure.
“Makookoo!” I said, with dismay. “Only one million sparkles per minute? What is wrong?”
Makookoo looked a bit glum and said, “Yeah. And the rainbows in my wake… they have lost vibrancy.”
“Oh, Makookoo! I should have been called much sooner,” I said, sympathetically. “Show me?”
He nodded and stood up. He trotted across the room. There was a beautiful rainbow in his wake, but it was very faint, almost like a real rainbow, not like a bright, dazzling, unicorn rainbow.
“This is serious,” I said. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Makookoo looked slightly upset. Unicorns are subtle. I have learned to read them, but it takes patience. Although they should have called me much sooner to see Makookoo, I didn’t really blame the village elders. It is so hard to read unicorns. The average unicorn just will not ask for help. On top of this, there is a shortage of unicorn experts because unicorns are so rare.
Why are unicorns rare? I addressed this issue in my doctoral thesis: “Unicorns are Rare Because People.” My thesis advisor said that was a stupid title.
She said, “because people… what?”
I said, “Because… people.”
I can’t remember the rest of the argument, but, apparently, I either won or wore down her resistance because that was the published title. My main point was that unicorns feed on peace, compassion, empathy, and love. I don’t mean they consume it in the sense of taking it away. Rather, when there are these four things present, unicorns thrive. When these things are absent, as they often are in today’s world, it makes sense that unicorns are rare.
That is a shame because unicorns produce happiness and joy. They emit it. I lived among one of the few remaining unicorn tribes while I was doing my doctorate, and those were the happiest years of my life. While studying them, I discovered that each unicorn can grant a certain fixed number of wishes in its lifetime, and it is different in each unicorn family.
Try getting a unicorn to tell you how many wishes they can grant and how many they have granted so far. Actually, don’t try that because it is considered the height of bad manners, and, anyhow, the unicorn simply won’t tell you. It is taboo. They get quite insulted. In fact, it is one of the only ways you can insult a unicorn. They start huffing and they emit fewer sparkles. Their rainbows start getting weird in that there are colours missing or in the wrong order. So, don’t ask.
I waited for Makookoo to answer. I started to think he was not going to respond, but I try to make a lot of room for silence in my sessions with unicorns. They live a long time, and they don’t say very much, so silence is often rewarded, and today was no exception.
Makookoo said, “I think the people just want wishes, rainbows, and happiness. I don’t think they see me. I don’t think they even want to know the real Makookoo.”
“That is quite a problem,” I said. “You want to make people happy, but you also want to find genuine connections in life.”
“Yes, exactly,” Makookoo said. His eyes were so big and blue like most unicorns. I felt like I could drown in them. He looked so sad all of a sudden, which is incredibly rare for a unicorn. I could see a tear welling up in his eye. I quickly ran over to my desk to get a vial and a tissue. I uncorked the vial as the tear started to roll down his cheek. I swiftly caught the tear in the vial and then wiped his eyes with the tissue.
Unicorn tears are the rarest substance. However, I didn’t collect the tear to sell even though it would make me rich, of course. Makookoo instinctively knew this. I have often wondered whether unicorns are partially (or entirely) telepathic, but if Makookoo was telepathic, wouldn’t he know for sure whether people liked him for himself or not? That one unicorn tear, diluted even in a swimming pool full of water had curative abilities that were well beyond modern science. One thimbleful of the diluted tears could cure almost anything. That one tear would save millions of people, but I was still sorry Makookoo felt so bad.
“Oh, thank you,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re allowed to have emotions.”
“I have an idea,” I said.
“You do?” Makookoo said.
I laughed. “It does happen from time to time.”
Makookoo was silent. Right. Unicorns. I forget how quiet they can be.
“I wonder, with your magic, whether you could transform yourself—”
“Me?” Makookoo looked shocked.
I laughed again. Makookoo looked so surprised. Unicorns nearly never use magic on themselves. It is not forbidden like talking about the number of wishes, but it is frowned on by polite unicorn society.
“Hear me out. I suspect that people would like you a lot more than you imagine. Just for being you. So, what if you – temporarily – turn yourself into a human so that you can find out for yourself?”
Makookoo was quiet for a long time. I thought maybe I had offended him. Although I knew unicorns, I did not know Makookoo well, and maybe my suggestion seemed ridiculous to him.
“Can I have another tissue?” he said.
I was puzzled about why, but I turned to get a tissue. When I turned back, the most handsome man I had ever seen was standing in front of me. He would have been naked except he had hair that was so long that it covered his entire body. My jaw dropped.
“What do you think?” Makookoo said.
“I think we need to take you shopping,” I said. Makookoo smiled, and it seemed to take up his entire handsome face. I found an old T-shirt and jeans in the lost and found for him to wear until we could get him something nicer.
As we left the building, I wondered whether I had done the right thing. I hoped Makookoo would find the answers he was looking for. Walking to my car, the snow fell gently, and I noticed my shoes leaving prints in the freshly fallen snow. I suddenly realized that I forgot to get shoes for Makookoo. I looked at his feet, but he looked comfortable. I noticed his feet were not even touching the snow and where he walked, there were no footprints.