I was five the first time I saw the unicorn.
I was playing in the basement of our split-level home when a flash of silver at the window made me look up. I didn't see anything right away, but being a child who was attracted to shiny things in general, I clambered up on the back of the couch to get a better view. The windows were set flush with the ground, so when I managed to peep my little nose over the windowsill, I found myself with a worms-eye view of... something.
Gradually I realized I was looking at an animal- a small, blindingly white animal. This in and of itself was not a big surprise- living as we did in the woods I was very used to seeing all manner of creatures go creeping about our property- and I knew that rabbits and foxes both could go white in the winter.
Except it wasn't winter; it was spring.
The animal cocked its head at me and I suddenly realized what I was seeing.
"Ohhh!" I breathed, for there could be no doubt about it- stubby as it was, the single horn spiraling out of the creature's forehead marked it
unicorn. And a
baby unicorn, at that! For three whole heartbeats I was frozen with delight- then I jumped down off the couch and went racing up the stairs to our front door.
It was gone by the time I got around to the side of the house, of course. And even as I searched through the surrounding trees I began to doubt what I had seen. I wanted very badly to believe in magic, in unicorns- but the truth was I had a bit too wide of a practical streak in me. By the time I turned back to the house I'd already chalked the sighting up to wishful thinking.
***
I was twelve when the unicorn appeared again, nearing the end of a girl's natural unicorn-obsession-cycle. I had not yet given up the posters and figurines that decorated my room, however, and I still had a battered old stuffy that I slept with- when I wasn't at a sleepover, anyway.
I would have remembered that day even if I hadn't had an encounter with a unicorn, because that was the day the long-anticipated Period arrived. Contary to popular-teen-magazine predictions, there had been nothing mortifying about the experience; I'd gone to the bathroom, looked down, and had a split second of irritation that my favorite underpants were ruined. Then the full force of what said ruination implied hit me, and I'd started grinning like an idiot.
My mother and father made just the right amount of Deal about the occasion- pride was expressed, a garnet ring bestowed, and a special meal prepared. But now I needed some time to myself, so as violet twilight settled on the woods I found myself walking alone and ruminating on my new role as A Certifiable Woman.
And then I wasn't alone. The back of my neck prickled and I
knew someone was watching me. Not some
thing (for I was long accustomed to the wary eyes of animals marking my passage): some
one. I turned slowly, and found to my surprise that I'd been mistaken: it
was an animal, some sort of- albino deer? I took in the graceful limbs, the liquid eyes- and then my gaze hit the spiraling horn, and it was as though I was five years old again.
"Ohhh!"
The creature tossed its head in what I would have sworn was a laugh, and then danced closer to me- but not close enough to touch. I remained unmoving, hardly daring to breathe. As of this morning I was officially no longer a child, and I knew that what I was seeing absolutely was
not a figment of my imagination.
It took another dancing step towards me, and then another- until it was at last close enough for me to reach out and stroke- but still I did not move. I noticed a faint floral scent strangely reminiscent of curry and coconut milk... and then with a silver flash the unicorn was gone.
***
When I was sixteen I fell in love. His name was Dougie, and I had decided he was The One. Oh, he had his flaws- he was prone to secrecy and depression- but these traits just made me love him all the more, because I knew I was the only one who could keep his darkness at bay. He needed me- and I of course needed him. We'd told our parents we were going on a hiking picnic, and we were- but we were also planning much more than that.
We left the trail and found a secluded clearing to spread our blanket in. We didn't bother unpacking our lunch- that could wait until afterward. Dougie leaned over and began kissing my neck, and I closed my eyes in nervous excitement. Just then an errant breeze brought sweet and exotic smell to my nose.
"I like your new shampoo," I murmured. "It smells delicious."
"I don't have a new shampoo," he said into my hair. "Same as it's always been." I inhaled again as his hand crept under my shirt- there was definitely a new smell. But it was also vaguely familiar.
"Is it your cologne?"
"Mmm-mmm," came the negative reply. I couldn't keep my eyes closed anymore- the scent was too distracting, and to tell the truth his groping hands were suddenly annoying.
"Hold on a second-" I said, halting his progress.
"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go too fast- I thought you wanted-"
"No, no it's fine. Just be quiet a second. I'm trying to remember." Dougie looked vaguely scandalized, as though I'd just thrown a bucket of ice water on him.
"Oookay," he sat back and ran his hands through his hair. I stood up, ignoring him, and inhaled deeply.
"Coconut milk," I muttered- and then a movement behind Dougie caught my eye. I turned towards it, and there was the unicorn, standing deep in the trees and looking at me with such sorrow I thought my heart would break. I could see now that the last time I'd seen him he hadn't been fully mature: he'd been slender and almost gangly then, but now he looked sleek and dangerous. It was like the difference between a boy's muscles and a man's. An echo of an academic voice came unbidden to my mind:
The unicorn will only allow virgins to approach it.
And in that moment, I knew Dougie was not The One. Because if he had been, he would have been worth losing the unicorn. But the sick feeling in my stomach told me he absolutely was
not.
***
Neither were the next couple of boyfriends, as it turned out. Any time we'd start to go beyond kissing, I'd think of the unicorn and I'd realize that not a one of them was worth never seeing it again.
I know, I know- it made no sense. I'd only seen the thing three times, never even had a real interaction with it. It was probably some twisted manifestation of the patriarchy that was subconsciously convincing me that I had to remain "pure" to be of any value in society. I didn't care: I wanted that unicorn more than anything I'd ever encountered, patriarchal manipulation be damned.
Finally I gave up on dating. There didn't seem to be much point, since most of the boys I dated eventually wanted to have sex, and the ones who didn't struck me as... not good matches for me in the long run. It might have been easier if I myself hadn't been interested in sex- but I was, in theory. Just... not with any of them.
I'd taken to spending all of my free time wandering the woods in solitude. It was on one such hike that I was faced with the most important decision of my life. In the three years since I'd last seen the unicorn I'd decided to become a zoologist (with a minor in mythology) and I was returning to university in a few weeks. I wondered if I'd ever see the unicorn again, if they were a species found across the world, or if they were indigenous to the forests of Alaska (a scenario which seemed highly unlikely to me).
A silver flash in the corner of my eye made me smile. I didn't whirl to look this time, didn't freeze up. I twined my fingers together in front of me and turned my gaze to the pale blue sky.
"I was just thinking of you," I said.
"I know," came the reply, and I tripped in shock. The unicorn moved over to where I lay sprawled and lowered his head until his nose was by my own. Because as soon as I heard that voice, I had no doubt that the unicorn was male.
"You can
talk," I choked.
"I know that, too," and I thought I saw a smile in his eyes.
"Wow," I pushed myself up into a seated position and tried to really appreciate what I was seeing. He looked exactly the same as he had when I was sixteen- well, maybe there was something a little wiser about the eyes.
"Kaitlyn, the time has come for you to choose."
"To- to choose?" I felt like an idiot, stumbling over my words, but the truth was that my brain was doing the best it could to deal with the impossible situation.
"To choose what you will be."
"I've already chosen what I'll be," I said. "I'm majoring in-"
"No, not what you'll
do, Beloved. What you'll
be." I didn't have a response for that- the unicorn had called me 'Beloved'. And it felt right.
"You have remained a virgin," he continued, and I blinked.
"Wait wait wait- is it true that's the only reason you'll get close to me? Because my stupid
hymen is intact?" Again the look in his eyes that I felt was a smile, albeit an embarrassed one.
"That's not... strictly accurate," he said. "If you had given yourself to a mortal man, I could still approach you. There just wouldn't be much point."
"
Excuse me?" The dazzle of talking to a real-life unicorn was wearing off, and mostly what I was feeling was irritated. The unicorn took a step back from my glare.
"I should explain better," he said.
"I'll say."
"Kaitlyn, every unicorn that is ever born is a male."
"That's ridiculous and impossible," I snapped, ignoring how ludicrous it was to make such a statement to a unicorn. "Unless you're like those amphibians that can change gender."
"No, we cannot change gender. But we must have mates, and so we seek them out. If we hope to reproduce we must find a female creature willing to give up her form for that of a unicorn's. But she cannot do that if she's given herself to a male of her own species. We believe in mating for life, you see."
"Well that's inconvenient," I said, suddenly feeling a bit fluttery in my stomach.
"It's not so bad," he said. "We never have to worry about inbreeding, for one thing," I couldn't help but laugh at that. I reached out a hand and touched his gleaming cheek- it was like cold silk beneath my fingertips, and he closed his eyes in response.
"What- what does that have to do with me?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. The liquid eyes opened again, and he pressed his head into my touch.
"I've chosen you, Kaitlyn. I chose you years ago, when we were both children. But now we are adults, and you must choose me in return."
