The Unicorn in My Sock Drawer

The Unicorn In My Sock Drawer

By Jeff Van Dell

Being a miserable bastard came naturally to me because my father never married my mother and depression ran rampant on her side of the family. Poorly planned Felony Grand Theft Auto ran on my father’s side, which explains him not marrying my mother. Becoming a trial lawyer was a natural career choice for me and I slid into the routine of suing doctors for honest mistakes, reducing them to shells of their former selves.

I’m an obese man who sweats through his wool suites, not just the shirts, the entire thing: undershirt, vest, and coat. This has not hindered me from winning cases. Even though I’m obese and damp, something fantastic happens to me when I’m in front of a judge or jury arguing a case. It’s almost as if I can read all their thoughts at once and I know exactly what they need to hear to sway them to my side. My win record was so good that when the doctor’s insurance companies found out I’d be closing the case some settled immediately to cut their losses. Last year I was asked by a lawyer’s instructional company to make a video explaining how I won. They were going to pay me half of everything they made on sales of their materials. I made half a million dollars for six hours of work and receive quarterly royalties that allow me to have whatever I want. Being a miserable bastard paid handsomely.

            My life has not been all bliss however. I recently received a lot of unwanted media exposure after the wife of a doctor I destroyed in court shot at me as I was leaving for work one morning. My extra blubber slowed the bullet enough to prevent it going straight through to any of my vital organs. It damaged me. The doctors said I should not stay on my feet for more than ten minutes every four hours until I lost two hundred pounds. Men as fat as me don’t lose weight quickly so I’ve been living in a modified wheelchair for eight months. I’ve shed thirty pounds but it’s slow going. The firm wants me to have a gastric bypass operation because I lost my first case in four years. They believe standing will enable me to win. I was actually getting used to the wheelchair. I showed my partners several heartwarming episodes of “Ironsides”. It was an old black and white drama starring Raymond Burr about a wheelchair bound lawyer who always won. My partners insisted that I get the bypass

            Did you know that being obese prevents certain activities? Running was impossible, although I could shuffle slightly faster than my aged pet poodle, “Danny”. Tying my own shoelaces was out. I used a long metal shoehorn to wedge my feet into modified Italian wingtips. Bending over to pick things up off the floor was problematic. Last year I dropped the television remote way under the couch and had to watch Spanish television until one of my underlings came over to retrieve it for me. All my clothes drawers were empty from the waist down because I couldn’t bend over that far. This all changed when I started my wheelchair existence. My secretary moved all my clothes so I actually used the lower halves of my dresser for the first time since I’d bought the house. That was when I discovered the unicorn in my sock drawer.

I was getting dressed for work listening to the Today show. I had a crush on that Asian woman who did the news. When I opened my sock drawer I dropped the long tool I used for putting my socks on and swore at myself.

            “I’m so stupid! Why am I such a load?” I yelled, reaching towards the floor where it had fallen.

            “You’re not a load. Stop saying things like that about yourself.” Said a voice from my dresser.

            “Who’s there?” I asked. My heart was pounding in my chest.

            Looking toward the drawer I saw a long, thick, golden, horn emerge, then the head with its blue eyes, and finally the rest of its sleek, white body. Don’t ask me how it all came out of a small space like that. I have no answers.

            “Here I am!” Spoke a distinctly feminine voice.

            “What are you? What are you doing here?” I asked, staring in openmouthed disbelief at a fairy tale creature standing in my bedroom.

            “I’m your unicorn! Are you surprised? Most people are.” It said.

            “Where did you come from?” I asked it.

            “Jesus said you needed some help so I came. Isn’t it great?” It pawed my hardwood floor with its golden hooves, leaving a pile of oak wood shavings.

            “Am I dreaming?” I asked, pinching my leg to make sure I was really awake.

            “This is real honey. Don’t you remember what your grandmother said? I know when you were at school the kids teased you mercilessly.” It said.

            The unicorn used its pearly white horn to pick up the sock I dropped and deftly flicked it to me. It got next got the sock tool in its mouth and held it out for me. I took it and held it out from me like a weapon. “Stay away from me.” I said.

            “Oh don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you honey. You could use some help and I’m here to see that you get it.” It said.

            “I don’t need any help. I’m fine really! I’m scheduled for gastric bypass and no one will ever, er…tease me again.” I said, pulling on my sock and wondering if I was having a stroke.

            “Don’t you remember what your mommy and nana used to tell you?” It shook its mane began pawing the wood floor again. Yellow buttercups, fragrant and small, sprung from its mane and rang like bells when they hit the floor. Looking down at them, I was stunned by a rush of overwhelming joy. Then I wheeled my chair on to the remote and the television got much louder, shocking me back to my senses.

            “How are you going to help me? You’re either a figment of my imagination or that wacky broad killed me and I’m in some kind of lawyer’s purgatory. How did you get out of my sock drawer anyway? You’re too big to fit in there now.” I asked.

            The unicorn ignored me and said, “Now what did your grandmother say to you at night? ‘Now I lay me down to sleep…” It prompted me in a sing-song voice.

            “Mostly she told me not to bother my mother when she had migraine headaches. She also told me to have another slice of pie.” I was mostly dressed and thought that if I made it out of the house I could send someone to check it later.

            “No, that’s not what I mean. When you were going to sleep every night she’d come into your room and say true things to you. She wanted you to know…Him. It’s so important that you remember because time is short and the days are evil.” Its tail swooshed around and knocked over all the books on the headboard of my bed. When it swooshed its tail Lilacs fell all over my bedspread.

            “Hey, you want to watch it with the tail? I can’t afford to have you knocking things over around here.” I said, pushing my wheel chair out the bedroom down the hall to the front door. It followed me across the plush carpeting. Hoof marks the size of dinner plates dotted the blue carpet.

            “Listen honey, I’m here to help. You just think about what your grandmother said, ok?” It said.

            “What’s your name anyway? If I’m hallucinating I may as well call you something.” I hoped it wasn’t Mr. Ed.

            “That’s it!” It said.

            “What’s it?” I asked as I pulled open the front door and prepared myself for the sixteen-yard waddle to the waiting car.

            “If you can remember my name you’ll remember the stories!” It said.

            “Why don’t you just tell me? Does it have to be so complex?” I asked.

            “Well, the Master said there are rules and you’re so young…” It pushed its nose against my shoulder.

            “If you’re still here when I get back I’m calling animal control.” I said and slammed the door behind me.

            In the limousine I asked the driver to go back into the house and get a stack of papers in my bedroom. I didn’t actually need them but I wanted to make sure I was only having some kind of post-traumatic stress induced vision. The other possibility was too scary for words.

            “Sir, here are your papers. Your dog…it messed on the carpet. I cleaned it up best I could sir but you’ll have to have the rugs cleaned. I thought you had a poodle but you must like the big breeds too. There were weird marks all over your carpet. I swear they look like hoof prints!” He laughed nervously.  I thanked him and handed him a fifty for his trouble.

            Between conferences with clients, preparing for trial, returning phone calls, and formulating strategies, the workday went by quickly. I had my secretary call my housecleaner to clean the carpets and pick up any other mess my visitor may have left. When I got home I went into the bedroom and checked my sock drawer. Nothing was there and I made an appointment with a surgeon to talk about getting the gastric bypass scheduled. The number for a psychiatrist was in my wallet and I briefly considered calling her then abandoned that idea. Strange things had happened in my life and maybe this was just another.

            The next morning I opened my sock drawer and the unicorn came out just like it did the previous day.

            “Good morning sweetheart! Did you sleep well? I hope you remembered what your mother grandmother used to say to you when you were going to sleep. I know you must miss them.” It said.

            “Listen, I appreciate the help but I’m doing fine on my own. I made an appointment with a surgeon and things are getting back on track.” I said, watching nervously as the thing’s tail whipped closer and closer to some antique porcelain I had purchased at auction last year. “Hey watch the...” I yelled as its tail flicked a thirteen-hundred-dollar Japanese bowl onto the floor. It didn’t break when it hit the ground but the unicorn’s hoof crushed it as it waltzed around the large room singing “Jesus Loves Me”.

            “Hey that was an expensive piece!” I yelled.

I waddled around the room trying to pick up the pieces as the beast pranced around like a show stallion.

            “Now, now, now, it’s no use getting all upset. The important thing is to remember the stories your grandmother read to you. There is a wonderful plant for your life.” It said.

            “I don’t care what my grandmother, God rest her soul, said to me. She never said anything worth repeating and neither did my mother. What will it take to get you to leave and never come back?” I asked.

            “Just as soon as you remember who you really are, then I’ll go back where I came from never to return.” It said. “You should pet my mane. It will give you a good feeling that lasts for hours.” It pushed its neck against my face and I pushed it away. My hand brushed against its mane, soft as silk, and the image and emotions of my first kiss with Susan Draher bloomed in my mind. My reverie was broken when my driver honked four times to let me know he was there.

            I dressed quickly and ignored the unicorn’s attempts to get me to join in on a chorus of “Rock of Ages” . As I opened the front door the creature pushed it closed with its long horn.

            “You can’t go until you hug me.” It said.

            “I don’t want to hug you!” I said, pulling on the door.

            “Then you don’t get to leave.” It said and pushed its wet nose against my thousand dollar silk coat.

            “You got nose goo all over my jacket! I have a meeting with an important client and…never mind.” I gave the unicorn a hug and wondered what caliber bullet it would take to put it down.

            “Now don’t you feel all warm inside?” It asked, letting me out the door.

            “Yes, I’ll see you later. Don’t poop on the…” Too late.

            I had to have the jacket cleaned and it cost a hundred bucks. Once again I had my secretary call the house cleaner to do the carpets again and thought about getting a hotel room for the night. It was too much trouble of course and I went home to a clean house minus one antique porcelain bowl.

            The next morning nothing happened when I opened my sock drawer and I thought I was home free. I wheeled myself to the front door and as I stood up to open it I heard the thunderous sound of galloping from behind me. The unicorn was coming straight at me, knocking expensive paintings off the wall and trampling them under its hooves. I thought it was going to ram me with its horn when at the last second it stopped and licked my face with its huge, wet tongue. The scent of roses came from its mouth.

            “Oh geez! What did you do that for I already had a shower!” I said, wiping the unicorn’s saliva off my face with a silk handkerchief.

            “I’m so sorry I was late! I was busy with another little girl and I lost all track of time. I thought I could read some bible stories to you before you go to school. Would you like that?” It asked

“I don’t really have time but I do remember one thing my Ma used to make me say.”

            I recited the “Lord’s Prayer” as I made a mental note to purchase a large pistol and several clips of ammo. The unicorn was so excited it went up on its hind legs and came crashing down on my 18th century Italian table. I groaned inwardly. “Can I go now? I’ll remember more if I’m on time for work.” I said.

            “Oh of course, and you keep on remembering. I won’t be late tomorrow Jennifer. I’ll be right on time.” It said, giving me one last lick across the face.

            “My name isn’t Jennifer, it’s Jeffrey you moron. How could you possibly think my name was Jennifer? Jennifer’s a girl’s name.” I said, yanking open the door and stepping forward.

            The unicorn’s horn thrust past my face and slammed into the front door slamming it shut. The horn’s tip pierced an inch into the oak. The unicorn asked me, “What did you just say?” Its voice changed and it sounded more like “Dirty Harry” than a child’s imaginary playmate.

            I swallowed and said evenly, “My name is not Jennifer, it’s Jeffrey.”

            “So…you aren’t Jennifer?” The breath from its nostrils still smelled of roses, but now had a hint of copper mixed in.

            “Um…no. I’m not.” A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face.

            “So you’re not a little girl?” It asked, in a tone that I recognized as the one I used when I was cross-examining a witness.

            “No, I am not a little girl.” I said. My legs were turning to jelly, maybe from under use, maybe from fear. The unicorn’s body was now radiating waves heat and its muscles were rippling with pent up energy.

            “And you’ve known that you weren’t a little girl named Jennifer the entire time we’ve been talking over the last few days?” It asked as it pushed its face up against mine.

            “Yes, that’s correct.” The unicorn’s iris changed from bright blue to fiery red in an instant.

            “I see.” It said. “I’ll have to get back to you. You can go now.” The unicorn wrenched its horn out of the door and backed away letting me out. Its eyes, like twin furnaces, watched me as it retreated.

            I told the driver to take me through the drive through of a fast food restaurant where I indulged in four breakfast sandwiches with extra bacon. My bypass was scheduled for the next morning and I wouldn’t be able to eat solid food for a month or so. When I got home that night nothing was out of place. There weren’t even any hoof prints on the carpet. My paintings, which I thought were ruined, were put back on the wall with no dents in them. I was unnerved because of the order. The chaos would have felt better but I wasn’t sure why I thought this.

            I had no unicorn visit the next morning. I got to the hospital and was prepped for surgery. My doctor came in and explained the procedure to me again, reassuring me that his team had performed hundreds of G.B’s. Under anesthesia I slept blissfully and awoke to a pleasant Jamaican nurse telling me that everything had gone perfectly.

            In the weeks after my surgery I ate little, lost weight, worked from home, and watched too much television. One day I was able to stand up and dress myself, even tying my shoelaces for the first time in fifteen years. That night I moved all my clothes back to their proper drawers, enjoying the new me.

              A few months later I was lifting weights in my home gym, a first for me, and I heard a rattling sound coming from my bedroom. I picked up my Glock .45, another first for me, and ran to the bedroom wondering if I could actually unload into an intruder. The brass handle of my sock drawer was vibrating. I took aim. The drawer sprung open about an inch and I let loose with the entire clip expecting unicorn blood to spill out.

            Smoke filled my bedroom and my ears were ringing from the loud reports of the gun; empty, smoking, and suddenly very heavy. I put my arm down and walked toward the drawer, now closed from the impact of ten hollow point bullets. I winced as a splinter from the shattered dresser impaled my heel. I pulled the drawer open and saw nothing but shredded socks, splinters, and exit holes.

            I felt something behind me and turned around only to find myself face to face with a huge mountain gorilla.

            “Are you quite done shooting dear chap?” It said in prim British English.

            My mouth dropped open and I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

            “Let’s get this over with shall we?” It said, advancing on me.

            I raised my gun and pulled the trigger but it was out of ammo. The gorilla grabbed me around the waist in a vice-like grip and ran down the hall on two legs and one arm. I had never been held so tightly.

            “What are you doing?” I screamed and tried to wriggle out of its grip.

            “I’m sorry about the mix-up. You know how things are sometimes. One of us gets sent to the wrong house. No harm done of course, to the innocent that is. Yes my magistrate friend It’s not a perfect world, but in due course it shall be. Your situation will all be set right in a matter of moments!” The gorilla set me down in the living room in front of my weight set and proceeded to take circular weights off of my bar.

            “What do you want with me?” I asked, trying to get away from the beast. I lurched toward the telephone table but the gorilla slapped my arm so hard that it broke.

            “Ahhhh!” I screamed, nearly blacking out.

            “Sorry, can’t have you getting away, wouldn’t be good form to lose you now that we’ve finally worked out who goes where.” It said. “You know some would say that it was a mistake, but I think the Master wanted to give you one last change to repent. He’s good that way.”

            The gorilla took the barbell and bent it with its unimaginably powerful arms into a “C” shape. Then it put about a hundred pounds of weight on it and wrapped the bar with the weights around my ankles as if it were soft taffy. I heard my ankles break and screamed again.

            “Why are you doing this? Who sent you?” I moaned.

            “Ah right! Well, you see, this was the mix-up. Jewel, the unicorn, was supposed to go to Jennifer Thaxton. Jewel came to you instead because names on the orders got reversed. You know how it is. Fortunately there are safeguards built into the system. The innocent are never punished, only disciplined.” He said.

            The gorilla grabbed my unbroken arm and dragged me down the hall, outside to the deck around the pool. My broken ankles and arm sent waves of pain to my brain until I passed out.

When I came to it was night. The moon was full and low in the horizon. The gorilla was sitting on a piece of broken lawn furniture grooming itself and speaking to other animals gathered around the pool.

            “Oh God, what’s going on?” I moaned.

            “Ah, you’re awake! That is so good to see. I wasn’t sure if I’d been too rough with you and permanently injured you. It happens sometimes because I forget how weak you all are.” He said.

            “Why are you doing this to me? I’ve never done anything wrong.” I said.

            I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my lips. A cacophonous sound struck my chest like a clap of thunder. All around us animals hooted, laughed, chuckled, honked, whinnied, and roared. Hundreds of eyes reflected light from the moon. They were cold eyes and full of intelligence. The gorilla was rolling on the ground laughing hysterically. He settled down and sat next to me, pushing his face right against mine.

            “I must say, you have a thick sense of humor old boy, absolutely thick! I’m so glad the Master has allowed us to have language and intelligence like you do, even for a short time. Let me tell you why I am here. Six years ago a little girl was taken away from her mother and grandmother. You convinced a judge on behalf of the girl’s father and his wench, that mummy was some kind of religious lunatic; making her daughter pray before every meal and so forth. You said you took the case ‘pro-bono’ but really, wasn’t it out of simple malice? You used your gift of persuasion to take a little girl away from a Godly influence on her life. She’s been living with daddy and his harlot girlfriend, who’s been trying to convince the little girl to abandon her faith. Recently at her new school the little girl prayed over her lunch, thanking the Master for her food. Other little children laughed at her and refused to play with her. The harlot girlfriend got wind of it and forbade her from praying at all. The little girl’s lost the path her mother and grandmother put her on and there’s no hope for the father and his lust funnel. The Master sent some bees to deal with them so in the end it will all work out for Jennifer. Isn’t that comforting?”

            I remembered the case. I thought it was nothing at the time.

            “When you say you never did anything wrong you were lying of course, it’s the curse of your species. The creator gives you speech and you destroy it, just as you destroy all the other gifts he’s given to you. Soon now things are going to change. The straight ways will be made crooked and the crooked ways made straight. You won’t live long enough to see the stars fall from the sky and the nations fall dead in terror because of the roaring of the sea. You won’t even live to see the sunrise in a few hours.”

            The gorilla grabbed the barbell with one hand, my broken arm with the other and hoisted me over its head.

            “Wait! I need to know what the grandmother told the little girl!” I screamed. Anything for a few more seconds of life, I thought.

            The gorilla put me down at the edge of pool and said, “Well, if you must know the girl’s grandmother used to recite this verse to her.”

            ‘Blessed are you when men persecute you because of me.’

            “But I never persecuted anyone I…” I started to say when the gorilla picked me up again and I screamed, “Please God no! I don’t want to die. Talk to me, please!” My body was numb. I could barely feel the pain of my broken bones.

            The gorilla said in a booming voice. “I have a message for you, a verse from the Master’s own lips.”

‘Woe to you who cause one of these little ones to stumble. Better you should be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around your neck.’

All the animals were gathered at the edge of the pool, except for a pair of geese who were slowly paddling the placid surface. Lit from the pool lights below the animals looked like a jury.

“In you go.” The gorilla’s last utterance was the most animal-like sound I’d heard it make.

            It threw me hard into the water and I sank quickly to the bottom. I held my breath and tried to swim up. I’d never been in the pool until that moment because for as long as I’d owned the house I always thought the water was too cold.

            I looked up and saw the animals at the edge of the pool looking down at me: the gorilla, two cats, two wolves, two ravens, two mice, two giraffe, two foxes, two panthers, two ferrets, two lions, and the unicorn. Its eye was once again, blue. 

The End