Unicorn Blood and Groceries

 “Ah, Cooper? Why is unicorn blood on our shopping list?”

“Because,” he replies, absorbed by the Lego castle he’s constructing.

What am I going to do with this kid? Since we’ve been sequestered at home 24/7, he’s actually become less communicative. I would’ve thought that with all the time we spend together, just the two of us, we’d be practically telepathic by now.

“Cooper. Would you please look at me?”

I watch him struggle to divert his attention from his elaborate creation and turn his gaze in my direction.

“I need you to help me understand why exactly we need unicorn blood. Can you do that?”

He sighs and rubs his hand across his temple, an elderly man in a nine-year-old child’s body. I am obviously trying his patience.

“So, you remember reading the Harry Potter books when I was little?”

“I do remember that,” I respond.

Cooper and I had spent weekends and evenings in the early pandemic, a full year ago now, plowing through Rowling’s hefty tomes. The neat resolution at the end of each book gave us a sense of control that we didn’t have in the real world what with my company shutting down, schools going virtual and my mom succumbing to COVID-19. We found the suspense and magical twists in the Harry Potter series preferable to the reality of the death and economic devastation in our everyday reality.

“Cooper, what does Harry Potter have to do with our grocery list?”

“Well,” he rubs his chin where whiskers are likely to sprout in six to seven years. “I just thought it would be good to have some unicorn blood on hand, just in case.”

I walk over and sit next to him on the rug.

“Just in case what, Buddy?” I gently rest my hand on his back.

Cooper looks down, fiddling with the draw bridge at the front of his Lego castle. He picks up the tiny Lego queen and the tiny Lego prince, moves them into the center of the castle, and abruptly slams the draw bridge shut.

“Well, if you remember,” he says, “unicorn blood can bring you back to life even if you’re an inch from death. And I thought we should keep some on hand just in case COVID finds us.”

He looks up at me, hope and fear mingled in his beautiful eyes.

“Oh, that’s right,” I respond, squeezing his shoulder. “Good thinking.”

He favors me with a tremulous smile. I stand, reach out for his hand, and help him to his feet.

“C’mon. Let’s see if Costco can add it to our grocery order this week.”