Welcome

Bram put the glasses he had worn under the magnifying glass. He could see the scratches in the metal around the rims. The lenses were polished dark glass. He had theorized that they were probably made of obsidian. Next to him sat the book that his friend and fellow hunter was using to identify the things they had seen. The two of them relished the thought of coming across something unusual. To Bram, the stranger, the better.

Their business was always slow when it rained, so the shop was quiet. It was still before noon when the bell on the repair shop entrance jingled as the door opened. The light from outside was dimmed by the rain clouds and showers pattering against the front window pane since he opened the shop. Bram raised his eyes to see a woman walking in carrying a small box. He closed the book and slid it beneath the counter. She hurried to placed the box on the only available space she could find, where the book had been.

“Do you repair clocks?” the woman asked as she pulled back her hood, allowing her short-cut blonde locks to show. Bram watched as the woman feverishly attempted to fix her hair. He could hear her mumble, “I hate wearing that thing. I wish I could remember where I put my umbrella.”

Bram gave a simple smile before saying, “let me see it.”

She opened the box to show what used to be a cuckoo clock. It wasn’t anything fancy. The device was a newer clock, almost all electronic. The damage was much more than if it had simply fallen from the wall. Bram could see the wires and small gears and motor, making him ask how it was broken. The woman’s reply was a bit odd.

“I don’t know. I was outside and came back in to find it, and my floors scuffed.” She looked toward him with a subconscious fear. “I don’t know. I wish I did. I was only outside for a minute.”

Bram became concerned, “Is everything alright?” He leaned in, whispering, “do you need help? I can call the police if you need.”

The woman shook her head, “No. thank you. This morning I thought I saw a horse in my yard and went out to look. I took my umbrella and when I walked up to see if the animal had a bridle…. I, uh…”

Bram motioned for her to continue.

The woman turned to look around, “I only remember being in the house and seeing this on the floor.”

Bram moved some of the pieces, he pulled out one large section, but as he turned it over, his eyes went wide. On the back was an imprint he had not expected. He quickly started looking at a few other parts. He looked up to see the woman’s green eyes almost pleading as he picked up what remained of the figure. Most cuckoo clocks have a small bird. This one was different. Instead of a bird, it was a tiny winged fairy.

He held it up, inspecting the small form. But, unfortunately, the plastic figure was crushed and broken. He showed the pieces to the woman, and she gave a sheepish smile before asking. “Can you save her?”

Bram felt her plea tug at his heart as she spoke. The tiny fairy figurine has almost been pulverized. Bram looked at the manufacturer and recognized them as one who was still in business. He tapped away at his keyboard and found the small figure as a replacement item. He sighed, shaking his head, “No, but I can order a new one. They make replacements for this clock.” He then joked, “apparently, they must break a lot. I can order one if you like.”

The woman smiled, her eyes lighting up with hope when Bram told her the news. She asked how much it would cost, and Bram started working on the price.

“So, this is just your clock?” Bram asked, trying to make conversation.

The woman chuckled, “It’s mine. Well, my husband wanted a fish clock. You know that one that sings when you walk by it. But I can’t stand those things.” She looked a little embarrassed as she continued, “I had painted that little fairy up the way I thought she should be. I don’t know why. The colors they use on them just don’t seem right. I have one just like her on my shelf at home. She’s up high. It’s silly I put her there so she could see everything.”

Bram slowed his actions as her words sank in. The evidence before him was now causing his brain to put things together. As an engineer and tinkerer, he never believed in magic, that was until he bought the glasses and book from a man he had come across at the flea market. He nodded before he spoke.

“I can ask my partner to paint her if you like. it’ll be extra.” Bram said as he again examined the back panel of the clock.

The woman shook her head, “no, I’ll do it. I want her a certain way. It’s silly. When I do, it makes me feel good.”

Hearing a noise from the backroom, Bram turned to briefly look back, hearing Foster’s familiar voice griping that he stacked the boxes too high again. He turned back to the woman. “I’ll write you up. I should have the parts in about a week. Were you in a rush?”

The woman seemed to think for a moment before saying that she wasn’t. Bram asked then for her name.

“Cynthia Chandler,” the woman replied. She then looked at him, providing her address and phone. Next, he offered her a list of the repairs.

Bram remarked that it would probably be better to buy a new clock. But Cynthia didn’t even consider that. Instead, she mentioned that the clock had been in her home for several years and that she liked seeing it.

“Okay, we’ll see if we can put it back together. We’ll get it as close as we can, but it may not look the same.” Bram told her.

Cynthia agreed and asked how long it would take. When he told her about three weeks, she seemed to slump. “I guess if she comes back working, it’ll be okay.”

The woman then asked how much she needed to pay, and Bram told her she only needed to pay when she picked it up but warned her not to leave it for more than thirty days. “Of course, by then, it’ll go up for sale in the shop.”

Behind him, Foster loudly opened the door, “Hey, did that guy that brought in the coffee grinder come back yet? I almost tripped over it.” He looked up to see the woman standing before the counter, her eyes wide, staring back in surprise. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just asking if a customer has come back for something yet. But, unfortunately, things have been piling up a bit.”

Bram chuckled, handing her a receipt, “sorry, it’s been busy the last few weeks. But, we can have this repaired for you. We’ll call you when we’re done.”

The woman took the receipt and thanked them. Bram remained quiet as the woman walked to the door. He grabbed Foster’s wrist as he reached into the box. He only released the man as the door closed. Foster picked up what remained of the figure and looked at it.

“Oh, thank god, it’s not one of those fish clocks. I hate those things.” Foster looked at the small figure that used to be a fairy. “a fairy cuckoo clock. Haven’t seen one of those before.”

Bram leaned back, “Me neither, but apparently, they make them.” He showed the screen as it displayed the image of the clock. There was even a parts list included, which to Bram seemed odd. He turned to his partner.

“Ian, the fairy part isn’t the most interesting. Take a look at the back of the clock.” Bram said, pulling the book he had hidden from beneath the counter.

“It’s actually made of wood, not plastic. It looks like it just needs to be sanded and painted once we put it back together.” Ian said as he looked at the piece.

Bram flipped open the book telling his friend, “That’s not the interesting part. Turn it over.” He finally found the section on unicorns and was reading as Ian looked at the wood piece.

Ian did and could see the hoof print clearly visible, “what, did a horse step on this or something?”

Bram huffed, “It’s something alright.” He then pointed to the page showing it to Ian. “it says here that unicorns can make magic creatures obey them. And sometimes humans.” He grabbed the piece of wood from his friend. “This is a unicorn hoof print, I’m sure of it.”

Ian looked to his friend, “so what’s that mean?”

Bram smiled, “she said that this happened this morning. So, if it did, then the unicorn is probably still in the area.”

Ian scoffed, “we know that. But where? this town’s a big place.”

Bram smiled, holding up the estimate sheet he had just written for Cynthia. “I think it was at her place this morning. That gives us someplace to start.” He pointed to the back room, “Get the gear, and we’ll close up early today. I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming in anyway.”

Ian looked to the back room, “what about that coffee grinder?”

Bram gave a heavy sigh, “that guy hasn’t been back for over two months. Just put a price tag on it and put it upfront. Then, if he wants it, he can buy it back.”

Ian shook his head as he headed in the back and returned only a few minutes later. He put the grinder out and handed Bram his pack. He paused for a moment, “Hey, Dennis, you really think we should be messing around with this stuff? I mean, neither of us believed in magic before you bought that thing back here.”

Bram thought for a moment, “let’s face it, Ian. We are not going to be rich working in a repair shop.” Then, he held up the tattered book, “this and the stuff in here, that’ll make us rich and famous.”

Ian reluctantly placed his pack over his shoulder, seeming to have second thoughts about what they were doing. Dennis smiled, “Hey, if we don’t find the animal in the next few days, I’ll give up, Alright?”

Ian nodded

Bram chuckled, “come on, let’s go unicorn hunting.”

Ian shut the lights off and locked the door. Neither of the men saw the dim glow from the wood the distinct shape of the hoof outlined. The glow coalesced and became a small glowing form. The small man stood on the wood, his hands on his hips, “tch, what’s a sprite got to do to get some repairs done around here.” He looked to the pile of broken wood, “oh well. I should get started. Those two will take too long.” He picked up the remains of the plastic fairy. “Well, my dear, I hope the new one is a pretty as you.”