Chapter 50

When Naomi checked the pot the next morning, her lip curled at the sight. The milk had burned away while on the stove over the night, and the ingredients had formed a brown slimy sludge at the bottom of the pot. She turned the stove off and contemplated her next move.

“Well, is it fixed?” Mr. Squibbles asked. Naomi picked the mouse up and held him over the pot so he could see the ugly mess. His nose twitched, and his tail whipped about in Naomi’s hands. “Urg, I suggest we bury the pot, but first, fish the horn out.” Naomi pressed her lips together. The mess made her want to gag. She retrieved a pair of tongs to fish around in the pot for the buried horn and finally snagged it. When she pulled it out, the pot emitted a wet plop. The horn was completely covered with the slime, and it dripped slowly off of it in gooey globs. It looked like a very straight turd. Naomi did gag. She dropped the horn into the sink and turned on the water.

“Well?” Mr. Squibbles asked running to the edge of the sink.

“Do you think it would damage the horn if I dipped it in bleach first?”

“What’s bleach?” he asked as he stared at the running faucet, fascinated.

“Never mind.” She put on a pair of rubber gloves and gingerly picked up the horn to better rinse off the sludge. The pearly white of the horn began to emerge. The gauze remained firmly brown. She picked at the gauze’s knot and got it to loosen and fall away. The horn did not split into two but stayed in one piece. She ran her gloved hands over where the break had been. A light crack remained indicating the break. She tapped the horn gently to test the bond. She feared at any moment the horn would fall apart, but she had to know if it were truly fixed. The horn didn’t break apart. She turned to the mouse for his opinion.

“I guess it worked.”

“I am very uncomfortable with guessing.”

“There’s only one way to be sure.”

“I don’t want to find out that it’s faulty when I teleport only half my body back. Could we try out any of the other unicorn horn tricks?”

Mr. Squibbles ears perked up. “I know! Put the tip of the horn against your arm and see if it’ll heal the cut!”

Naomi took off the band aid she’d placed over the cut she’d made for the spell and turned the tip to it but stopped short of touching it. She looked at Mr. Squibbles. “Is there anything I should say or do to make it heal the wound?”

Mr. Squibbles shrugged his front legs. “You have more experience with the healing property of horns than I do.”

“What if it doesn’t heal me? Oh God, what if instead of healing me, it makes me sick? Like what if it gives me bubonic plague or a staph infection? What if it’s an anti-horn?”

“An anti-horn?” He didn't sound like he was taking her concern seriously, but looking at it, Naomi firmly believed it was more likely to give her a staph infection than heal a cut.

“If you want to wait, Naomi, I’ll understand. This is a life-changing choice and shouldn’t be made lightly.”

She looked down at him. She had made her choice. She was ready to make a life-changing move. She was just being silly. If she got a staph infection, she’d go to the hospital. They could cure that. Shit, they could cure bubonic plague now too. “I’m doing this.”

“That’s my false lady.”

She couldn’t help tensing as she placed the horn on the cut. Her bottom lip curled into her mouth. She touched the tip of the horn to the cut. As soon as it touched her, she jerked it back.

“Well?” Mr. Squibbles demanded. She turned her arm so she could peer at the scratch, but there was no scratch to peer at. The skin was smooth. She brushed her thumb over the spot, but it was completely healed and showed no signs of having been cut only the night before.

“It worked,” she breathed.

“What else do you have to do before you can leave?” the mouse asked. Naomi blinked at her arm, her mind having trouble switching from the miraculous to the mundane. She pulled her eyes from her arm and stared at the kitchen floor as she thought. She needed to call work and give notice. She had to call friends and tell them she was leaving. She had to talk to the landlord about switching the lease to her brother. Her stomach churned. The idea of just leaving was more appealing than preparing to leave. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was because if she prepared that meant she was really going to do it and there would be no turning back. If she thought about just leaving, she could change her mind. Naomi knew that her apprehension was silly and illogical. She was going to go back with Mr. Squibbles to Tavik. She’d already decided, but the idea of saying goodbye to her old home and life was gut-wrenching. She was leaving all she knew for something completely unknown. She didn’t know if she could help Tavik and what would happen once she did.

Naomi got ready for the day, deciding that making an appearance in person at the bank was more civil than calling to inform them of her departure. She could pick up the few things she had there while she was at it. She called a couple of her girlfriends and made plans to meet them for lunch. She would tell them the news then. As she set out to do her tasks, she wondered if she could take Mr. Squibbles up on his offer of just staying for a while first, maybe a year. She could let the people adjust to the idea of her leaving. It was pretty shoddy of her to drop this on their laps and then blithely walk away.

Naomi beat her head against the steering wheel of her car. She was parked outside the bank. If she put it off, would it be easier to leave later? She hated the question because that wasn’t what concerned her. What twisted through her mind was the reason she had to go back. Tavik was in trouble. He needed her help. Yula and Agatha needed her, too. Could she stay comfortably in her world while they struggled in theirs? Mr. Squibbles had said that time was not really a concern with the unicorn horn. Once she left, she would arrive soon after Mr. Squibbles left. Time wasn’t an issue then, but Naomi couldn’t be so cold and practical as to accept this fact. Time would still go by for her. If she waited a year, or waited at all, could she face the others when she went back without guilt? Could she face Mr. Squibbles? Naomi beat her head on the steering wheel again. This moral dilemma was giving her a headache physically and mentally.

She straightened in her seat and took a deep breath through her nose. She was tired of contemplating this. She wanted it decided. She opened her car door and got out. She walked up to the bank, went to her boss, got her alone in her office, and gave her resignation. She told the woman she was moving away. Naomi was surprised and touched when her former boss assured her she would be happy to be a reference for her without prompting. She thanked her and assured her she would and quickly excused herself. She felt tears forming in her eyes. She went to her desk and collected her personal things. She told her coworkers that were present of her departure. They expressed surprise and wished her well. She thanked them and went back to her car shaking. She’d done it. She’d quit her job. There was no going back now. The ball was in motion. She started the car and headed to the restaurant to meet up with her girlfriends.

Naomi had always had friends, but they drifted in and out of her life freely. There was shock at her news but no tears. They asked eagerly for a description of Tavik. Naomi told them a little, enough to confirm their romantic ideas but not enough to shatter them. Naomi suspected they thought she was going to wed a prince and become a princess with a tiara and everything. They made her swear to keep in touch, and she did swear, but her fingers were crossed under the table.

When she let herself back into her apartment, she felt ready to collapse. She’d stopped at the landlord’s to inform him of her departure and that her brother would finish out the lease. Her parents had cosigned with her when she’d gotten her apartment, and so the change of sibling didn’t worry the super, especially since the deposit would not have to be refunded or maintenance done. She also paid the next four months of rent, which he happily accepted. He’d wished her good luck on her move. She hung her coat up in the closet and wandered into her living room. She’d been about to call out to Mr. Squibbles but stopped with her mouth open. Bobby stood in her living room with a tape measure extended over the sofa.

“Hey, sis. How’d your day go?” he asked.

“What-What are you doing?”

“Rory’s got a big screen television, and I’m checking to see where best to put it.”

She felt homeless. Her brother was moving in before she was even gone. Her mother came out of her bedroom. “Welcome back, dear.”

She turned to her mother and wanted to cry to her, but her mother was in on it. She held a stack of towels from her bedroom bathroom, clearly taking them away to give to some shelter or something. Naomi’s cozy home was being stripped from her while she stood there.

“I’m really tired,” she told them.

“Then go lie down. We can manage on our own,” her mother assured her.

That was not what Naomi wanted to hear. She wanted Bobby to put away his tape measure, for her mother to put the towels back, and frankly, for both of them to leave. She moved past her mother into her bedroom and flopped onto the mattress. At least her mother hadn’t stripped the sheets yet. She knew that thought was unkind, but couldn’t they be a little more paralyzed with grief over her leaving, instead of pushing her out the door? She closed her eyes, deciding that she was grumpy due to exhaustion, and a nap was clearly in order. She yelped when something crawled onto her stomach.

“Hide me,” Mr. Squibbles said.

She looked down her body at the mouse perched on her abdomen. She hadn’t thought about the possible danger of the mouse with others in her apartment. Her mind suddenly shot to the horn. She’d left it in the kitchen. She scooped up the rodent and raced to retrieve the horn. Her mother was already there going through the cabinets. The horn sat on the counter where Naomi had left it. She picked it up and turned to go back to her bedroom when she stopped and turned back to look at her mother. She was staring into a cabinet.

“Mom?”

Naomi’s mother sniffled quietly and turned a watery smile to her daughter. “Go get some rest, dear.”

Naomi moved over to her mother and put her arm around her waist. Naomi’s mother leaned her head onto Naomi’s shoulder and sniffled again. “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

“Oh Mom,” Naomi said feeling her lip quiver.

Her mother slipped away from her arm and pushed softly on her shoulder. “Go get some rest. I mean it. I’ll order us some pizza in a few hours. Your father will stop by, and we’ll have a nice dinner.” Naomi nodded and wandered back to her bedroom. She lay back down and let Mr. Squibbles crawl onto the bed. She stared blankly at the mouse as he came to sit by her head on her pillow.

“We don’t need to leave so soon,” he reminded her.

“It’s done. We leave tomorrow.” Mr. Squibbles nodded and didn’t say anymore. She closed her eyes and drifted off. She awoke when her mother came to the door to get her for pizza.

She entered the living room tentatively. All of her furniture seemed to be still there, though rearranged. Her family was gathered there with slices already arranged on plates. She took a seat on the couch between her parents and put a plate on her lap.

“Have you taken care of everything?” her mother asked.

She nodded and took a bite. She chewed it slowly. This was her last slice of pizza. It was her last American meal. “I paid for the next four months of rent. Consider it a housewarming present, Bobby.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Thanks, sis.” Maybe she could show Yula how to make pizza. It couldn’t be that hard.

She moved and got her purse. She took out her key ring and dropped it into her brother’s lap. “You can have the car, too.” She knew how to ride a horse now, sort of.

“Sis?” She’d given him practically all of her worldly possessions. She shrugged and retook her seat.

“Can’t take it with me,” she said. The old saying ‘Can’t take it with you’ and what it implied fluttered through her mind. She brushed it aside. Her father sat on the sofa stone faced. His slice of pizza lay growing cold in front of him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said.

“Phil,” her mother said.

Naomi turned and looked at him silently. He could be right, but she couldn’t not make this mistake. “I have to do this, Dad.” Her father scrubbed his hand across his face.

“Will you ever come back?” His voice was a touch ragged, and though Naomi doubted her mother and brother truly understood the finality of her departure, her father did and was struggling with it. Naomi slung her arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

“I hope so,” she murmured. Her father slipped his arm behind her and rubbed her back. Her mother moved her hand behind Naomi, and she could feel her overlap it with her father’s.

“We’ll miss you,” her mother whispered. Naomi nodded mutely. Her throat had closed up. After her family left, Naomi went to bed. She refused to think about the next day.

She felt criminal as she penned a note to her parents. They'd wanted to send her off. They figured that she would be leaving on a plane. She’d had no way to dissuade them without hurting their feelings or raising their suspicions. She wrote that she had left already because she didn’t want to say good bye. She would contact them if she could but not to worry about her. She was leaving them, but she would have family in the place she went who cared about her and would help her just as much as they had. When she was done, she collected Mr. Squibbles and took up the horn. A stillness had settled over her. Her actions felt like they occurred under water. She held the mouse in the flat of her hand. She brought him up to eye level.

“What should I do?”

“How did it work the last time?”

“I pricked my finger, and the horn absorbed a drop of blood. The next thing I knew I was in Harold's Pass.”

The mouse nodded. “It’s that simple then.”

Naomi set her finger on the horn tip. Mr. Squibbles retreated into her shirt pocket. Naomi pressed the sharp tip into her finger till it pricked. A drop of blood welled up, and the horn absorbed it. Naomi felt the strange sensation again of total displacement. Her grip tightened on the horn. When her setting settled, she looked around. Her eyebrows knitted.

She stood in the middle of a desert, but the sand was a lavender color. The air was very dry. Mr. Squibbles peeked out from her pocket.

“Oh, crap.”

She felt light headed like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. “This isn’t right is it?”

Continue to Chapter 51.