THE VISITOR
A/N: I recently read a story by a writer friend that had an interesting chapter dealing with Unicorns, which also happen to be my child's favourite animal. Got to pondering, and this silly bit of urban fantasy, or rather rural fantasy, was the result. Warning - Not Beta-read.
Chapter 1
Frank Jensen pulled his old Ford over, stopping a yard off the gravel road and at least as far from the man leaning against the rail fence. His neighbour, Bob Barton, nodded at him then turned back and continued staring over the fence and into the field.
"What's the problem?" Jensen asked through the pick-up's open window.
Barton looked at his friend, and jerked his head back towards the field.
"You see that? By the tree?"
Jensen swore, fumbling for his glasses. Grumbling, he pushed hard against the truck door which grudgingly decided to open, and clambered out of the vehicle. Stepping over to the fence he stood beside Barton, donned his glasses, and gazed out over the meadow.
Jensen saw a wide, open field, grass covered and dotted with clumps of horse manure. About a third of the way across the field, maybe twenty yards distant, was a massive, centuries old, oak tree. It was still early morning and the tree cast a long shadow. Something was standing beneath the tree, partly in its shadow. He squinted.
"What the…!"
Jensen turned and looked at his neighbour. He could see the man was pale. Nervous.
Jensen turned back to the fenced meadow. He noticed several of Barton's horses gathered at the far end. They appeared nervous, too. Tails twitching, ears perked up. They were as far from the big oak tree and what it sheltered as they could get.
"How long -?"
"Dunno". Barton answered the question before Jensen could finish asking it. "It was there at first light. Couple hours now, I guess."
"You call anyone besides me?"
"Yup. Sheriff. County Admin. Then Doc Wheeler. She's on her way."
"Ellie? What did Sheriff Pearly say?"
"The sheriff told me to stop drinkin'. Third time I called 'im, he swore at me and hung up."
"Sounds like Pearly. He's an a-hole."
"Yup."
"Kids seen it?"
"Yup. They're back up at the house. Trent said they'd do some 'research' on it."
"Hmm. Good luck getting an internet connection. Windy today."
The two men stared in silence at the visitor in Barton's horse paddock. It stared back, turning occasionally to look at the horses at the far end of the meadow.
"I'm no expert," stated Jensen. "But I think that's a…."
"Don't say it," pleaded Barton.
"Why not?"
"'Cuz if you do, then it's real and I'd rather this be some acid flash-back from my misspent youth."
"I never did that shit when I was younger and, unlike you, I don't drink much now that I'm older," retorted Jensen. "I say it's real. Looks real. Besides, your kids saw it too."
"Yup", Barton agreed. "It's going to sound silly when you say it out loud."
Jensen cleared his throat, looked hard at his friend and stated what was only too obvious.
"Bob. There's a unicorn in your horse paddock."
"Yup."