The Perfect Party

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

The Perfect Party

By Plot Roach

Sam grumbled under his breath as he switched the outside light bulbs from the red and green Christmas colors to red white and blue in order to help celebrate Memorial day. Why can’t we just buy the damn white ones and leave them up all year, he thought to himself. Then I wouldn’t have to climb up this damned rickety ladder again the day after Thanksgiving to do it again.

He sighed and tossed on bulb into the bucket below him as he twisted another one into its place. He loved his wife, Martha, but felt that there were times she went too far when entertaining the locals. He had agreed to the barbeque, and to the fireworks that they would be setting off afterwards, but why she had to have everything perfect was beyond him. No neighbor would frown if the grass was half an inch too long, if his mouth was full of Cajun style pork ribs and a hand holding a chilled beer. No one that he knew would be looking at the crab grass that grew between the cracks of his driveway when blossoms of color exploded in the sky that night with the show that Sam had planned. But he loved his wife, and thus had to pay the price for that affection, making sure that everything was perfect in her world so that he could tolerate things in his own.

He ran out of blue light bulbs as he reached the end of the strand on the edge of the garage. Martha approached with a critical eye as she handed him a cold beer, and Sam could tell what she was about to say, before she could even say it.

“Sam, I don’t think-”

“I know, Martha. It doesn’t match, but I ran out of blue light bulbs and I don’t want to go running off to the store just yet. Let a man rest on his day off for once, and I’ll pick up some more on the way home from work tomorrow."

“It’s just that I want everything to be-”

“Perfect, I know. But the party won’t be until the day after tomorrow, and I promise that I’ll get it up first thing after I get home. I promise, love.”

She made a face and handed him his beer. “You better call it a day then, I don’t want you drinking and up on that latter. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ve only had one sip, not a six-pack.” he hissed. “A unicorn falling from the sky is far more likely to happen than me falling off this ladder. Now let me finish my work.”

A great shadow passed over him and for a moment Sam thought that a plane had passed too low to the ground, but there was no sound of an engine, except from far away. There was a great thud behind him that he felt more than heard. “Oh, look Sam!” Martha exclaimed, as a big wooden crate came to rest in their front yard, crushing the birdbath even as the parachute connected to the cargo tangled itself in the nearby tree.

So much for having the yard perfect the day after tomorrow, Sam thought. No way we can replace the birdbath in time. And I’m damn sure that the crate dug a groove in the lawn.

“What do you think it is?” Martha asked as they approached the wooden crate.

“Only one way to tell.” Sam said. “Bring me my crowbar from the top of my tool chest.” Sam circled the crate, looking for any distinguishing markings. All he found was a small card stapled to the top that read “Einhorn Exotics box 7 of 20.” There was no address nor a telephone number. He tapped on the side of the box, but it sounded mostly hollow. He had heard of things falling from planes before, but mostly it was just engine parts or frozen passenger poop. Never something that had been a part of actual cargo. He wondered what it would be worth.

He started prying open the side of the crate, as Martha watched from a safe distance. While she was curious as to what the box held, she was also afraid that what they were doing was illegal. “I think we should call the police, Sam. It’s not ours and maybe someone will give us a reward if we give it back to them intact.”

“Don’t you know that these things are usually insured up the wazoo?” Sam asked. “So whomever lost it will be reimbursed. In the meantime maybe we’ll find something that’s worth the price of replacing our birdbath.”

A few wooden planks pried off, and the side of the crate gave way. In the depths of the dark interior Sam could hear the sound of breathing. “What the hell could it be?” he asked. He continued to look inside the dark box while Martha fetched a flashlight to give them a better look at the cargo.

“It’s some kind of beast,” Sam said. He wondered if the creature was dying, but the box had drifted down with the help of the parachute, so he doubted that the ride had cause the thing any major harm. He remembered that some animals had to be heavily sedated before taking long trips in a plane and chalked that up to the creature’s lethargy. Even in the beam of the flashlight he couldn’t quite make out what it was. It seemed to be build almost like a mule or small horse. Its hide was mostly black, but with zebra stripes along its legs and rear. The head and ears reminded him of a mule deer. And rising from its forehead was a single black horn, that spiraled toward the back of the beast.

Slowly it opened its eyes and got to its feet. “Easy now, boy.” Sam said, suddenly wishing that he had followed his wife’s advise and left the crate closed. But there was no going back now, as the creature began to walk toward the sunlight. When Sam looked over his shoulder, Martha was nowhere to be found. I hope she’s calling animal control, Sam thought. But no, she returned a moment later with a mixing bowl full of water and a few carrots dangling form her hand.

“What are you up to with all that?” he asked her.

“The thing looks like it’s had a long trip, Sam. Maybe it could use some refreshments.”

Oh there she goes again, he thought. If she’s not making the neighbor’s happy, she’s trying to help some stray animal. He shook his head and was about to walk away, leaving her to tend the animal, when he saw the creature charge. He pushed his wife out of the way of what would have been a fatal blow. As it was, he became entangled in the creature’s horn and as it ran off down the block, it took Sam with it.

He held onto the beast with all his strength as he tried to disengage himself from the animal. He was carried for what seemed like an hour, though he was later told that the incident had only taken fifteen minutes. The thing rampaged through the manicured lawns of his city and tried to make a break for it by jumping into the manmade lake. At some point during the journey, Sam was certain that he would drown thanks to the creature and lost consciousness about the time that animal control became aware of the being that threatened the city’s tranquility.

Sam was rescued after the creature was brought down by a tranquilizer dart. When he was released from the hospital, all in time for the barbeque and the festivities of the black party, Sam noticed that some thoughtful neighbor had changed the white light bulb on the edge of the garage to a blue one and had finished all the lights in front of the house as well. The birdbath had been replaced and a large settlement had been offered to pay recompense for the damages the creature had caused. It seemed that Einhorn Exotics dealt with mutated creatures found in nature and transported them to the highest bidder. The “unicorn” that dropped on Sam and Martha’s front lawn had been born in a local zoo and was on its way to a private collector in New York.

And try as he might, Sam could not relax and enjoy himself during the festivities. While everything had been deemed ‘perfect’ when he returned home, there was one small detail that nagged at him. As the fireworks exploded overhead, they highlighted the new birdbath that sported a streamlined unicorn rearing at its center. And while this little detail would not have bothered him a week earlier. The only unicorn Sam wished to see was the beast that took him for a ride, preferably gutted and cooking on his barbeque.