Wednesday 26 June 2013

Attempts to Capture and Tame a Unicorn (40): The Era of Animal Help, No 9: A Penny Drops

The Merlungh appeared slowly from the lake, piece by piece, before taking the salmon out of the water to examine it.  Her eyes kept flicking up at me, though, examining me as well.

"A fine, big specimen, human," she informed me.  "And these salmon aren't too bad either," she added, making me feel a little nervous right from the off.  "Whatever work you want me to do, I hope we can have some fun along the way."  There was eyebrow movement at choice moments.

"Indeed... and, yes," I began uneasily, I wasn't used to this sort of talk, whatever sort it was.  "It's a unicorn, actually, the work, I mean; a mare that I've been trying to capture and tame her for some time." 

The moment I said unicorn there was a change in her face.  I'm not sure if it was a scowl or a look of pity, or of fear or surprise.  Or a knowing look as I gave her a brief unicorn 101.  I’m sure now it was the latter.  She knew just how doomed I was.

"Sure, I can help with that.  For these beauties I could do a lot more."  Then that look returned again, or a variation of it, and she asked slowly, "Why is she so important anyway?  Why all the effort?  Shouldn't you be spending your time on a more womanly shape?"

"I'd rather not go into all that with a stranger," I replied shirtily.

"Very well," the Merlungh said raising her eyebrows a little and beaming again, "Shall we get going?  Why don't you show me the clearing?"

We waded through the surf, the Merlungh’s large, flat and webbed feet becoming visible, and walked up the beach, our clothes and bodies drying off quickly in the sun.   When we were half way up the beach, she, half a pace or so behind me until now, caught up and nudged my arm with her hand.  "We forgot to shake on it," she said brightly. “And my name is Victoria by the way."  I told her mine, shook her hand and we started over, walking and talking about our different lives.

Victoria was my age and had been coming onto land to see and ride horses ("and a unicorn on a couple of occasions") since childhood, had been taming them since 15.  "Never a unicorn, though; it should be an interesting challenge," she told me with relish.  I told her of myself - my job, my family, this endless quest - but I was careful not to answer her previous questions.

After a while, Victoria asked about John, who had been sitting in my shirt pocket the whole time, just as he did every week during the era of animal help.  I told her how we had met and how he helped me out.  She was extremely intrigued and asked, "May I hold him for a bit?"  I agreed, of course, and John seemed more than happy to ride on this lake creature's shoulder for a while, quickly moving from my pocket, up to my shoulder and along my arm, crossing over at her hand. 

And so I walked a few yards ahead while Victoria and John became better acquainted.  We journeyed like this for about five minutes before I realised Victoria's footsteps and the sound of her breathing had ceased.  The day had been so peaceful and still I guess I must have tuned out of our merry ensemble and into the birdsong all around us, both distant and near. 

I turned quickly to find the pair missing.  "What the-?" I thought and immediately started to walk back along the track to try and find where they had left it.  I did, quite quickly - Merlungh tracks were difficult to miss, they step quite heavily on land, less used to the lack of friction from air. 

They had started slowly before speeding up, possibly because they had heard me coming or maybe they had realised the need to act fast, that they didn't have time to dawdle.  Whatever; ultimately they didn't move fast enough.

The tracks took me to a place where a circle of trees formed a natural shelter surrounded by bushes with a depth of up to five metres of bushes and enclosed overhead like a small vaulted room.  I found the entrance and crept incredibly quietly along a winding path that formed part of a maze.  I didn’t worry about this defence and just kept following the Merlungh tracks that were now partially covered by a set of unicorn tracks. 

Not far from the end of the path I saw them.  Through a 'door' that acted like a frame I could see the Merlungh sitting cross-legged and conversing with the unicorn‘s head, neck and front feet.  I didn't see John at first as I was focused only on the two flapping heads.  Then I dropped my head a little and saw the little sneak perched on the unicorn's front hoof.  A hoof I hadn't noticed was missing a piece and had been since that day I cooked the porridge.

And it all quickly became clear as the world tumbled down around me.  I could see it all, every attempt I thought I had made, had thought I'd set up myself, had been staged.  So much had happened out of sight or partially out of sight - Salazar charging her with his snakes, the Magical Mole transporting her about the forest - all just smoke and mirrors.  Each set-piece no doubt arranged in meetings the like of which I was now witnessing.

The mouse must have been a separate entity, the magic not being strong enough for a psychic link, only a cohort.  Hence their plan had now fallen in.  When I had jokingly suggested the Haunted Lake, the mouse had panicked and thought only of the Great Lake and spiralled into setting up something unplanned before he could stop himself.  (Or herself, or itself).  Which led to this impromptu meet-up, presumably a way to make last minute changes in an emergency.

What I couldn't quite understand, though, was Victoria's change of heart.  She had been, genuinely I guess, willing to help, even if she had also tried to steer me away altogether.  Yet here she was, a quick word-in-her-ear later, helping to plotline and direct another play.

*

I stood staring for only a few seconds before the unicorn looked up and saw me, John melting instantly back into her foot and to make it whole again, the spell broken.  Victoria gave me a look as if to say "I told you so," or "it's impossible, stop trying" before seeing the hurt in my face and mouthing, "Sorry."


And that is when I turned my tail and walked away, not wanting to listen, not wanting to hear, just wanting to get away from what I saw as deceit.  If we were to play, I wanted it to be on my terms.

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