Unicorn Rod Shop
Chapter 1
Home Sweet Home

Indiana wants me
Lord, I can’t go back there
Indiana wants me
Lord I can’t go back there
I wish I had you to talk to.
June 9th, 1975.
Monday morning, 8:45am

The words of the song kept running through my head, only it was “San Diego wants me….” Every case I heard, every gavel strike. Most of these others were miscreants, ne’er do wells. Standoffish criminals, drug addicts. I wasn’t one of them. I just didn’t want to be near any of them. To say I wasn’t scared would be a lie. I didn’t want to be near anyone after the crash. I had hidden myself up at my grandparents house in Alpine, but an assessor came and plans were made to tear it down. I stole a battery and go my Fathers Plymouth Cricket running to leave San Diego. He’d parked it there after he said it had developed a knock. It sounded okay to me; I just never had enough money to leave. It had suddenly started really banging when I gave up and attempted suicide. Now here I was, in a court room, waiting to find out where I was going to live.
“Michael Stairr.”
My name, It was my turn.
I approached the bench, and stood facing the Judge with my knees shaking.
“Mr. Stairr; you are here for violating a previous order, and for failing to attend school. You can not live on the streets. You can not live without supervision. What is your plea? He boomed.
I tried to speak but nothing would come. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and tried again.
“Guilty, sir.” I squeeked.
“Mr. Stairr. You should go to Juvenile Hall for this violation; but it has been made known to me that an alternative has been found. Mr. Deville, approach the bench.”  He said.
“Mr. Deville, apparently you found Mr. Stairr and saved his life?” He asked.
“Mr. Pinkerton and I found Mr. Stairr in his car, sir.” Said William.
“And it is you petition for temporary custody of Mr. Stairr?” Asked the Judge.
“If Mr. Stairr wants it, sir.” Said William.
“Mr. Stairr; you have a choice between Juvenile hall, and Mr. Deville’s home. What is your choice?” Demanded the Judge.
“I would prefer to live with William Deville, sir.” I said.
“It is so ordered that Michael Stairr, a minor, be remanded into the temporary custody of William Tate Deville. Good luck, son. “He said, dismissing us.
Then followed about 2 hours of paperwork before we could leave. I eavesdropped on the two others conversation. The girl was apparently named Katy, and the boy Uri (Uriah, actually) and Katy really like to talk! Uri didn’t say much, but I got the impression he was older than he looked. We walked outside onto the busy downtown sidewalk.
“Wait here, guys. I’ll go get the truck.” Said William.
“’K, Bill.” Said Katy. When he was gone, she turned on me.
“So, Michael, what’s your story?” She asked. I looked at my shoes.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, like, my parents are in jail for drugs, and they think my dad killed someone. Uri’s parents…..well, he can explain.” She said.
Uri looked down; I think he was more embarrassed than I was.
“My parents are hippies.” He said.
“Um; I’m, I’m an orphan…..”I said. This was the first time I’d talked about the accident. It wasn’t easy.
“Your parents are…….?” She asked. All I could do was nod.
“Wow, what happened?”She cried.
“KATY!!”Uri cried.
“What; I’m just curious.”She said.
“It’s okay…….” I said. I wanted to talk about it; I just didn’t know who to trust.
“You don’t have to, Mike.” Said Uri.
“It’s okay. There was a plane crash in North Park almost a year ago.”I said, holding back the tears.
“Your parents were on that plane?!”She asked. I shook my head.
“On the ground?”  I nodded.
“Your mom and your dad?” she cried.
“My entire family…..Thanksgiving……” I couldn’t continue, I walked away, heading for a bus stop bench I saw through tears.
“Geez, Katy; why’d you have to drill him like that?” I heard Uri ask.
I struggled with the tears for a moment, and then composed myself in time to see William drive up in an old primered Chevy truck.
Katy got in first, sitting next to William, then Uri, then me. The old truck had no seatbelts, but it was surprisingly clean. It ran well, the exhaust sounded tough and had to be dualled out.
I stuck my chin on my arm and tuned out the chatter, closing my eyes while the sunlight played on my eyelids. We ended up in the sticks of Lakeside somewhere near a freeway construction site.
The house was old and dilapilated, the yard fairly clean, but unkempt. There was a mangled mass of rusty steel tubing near a shed and………my dad’s Plymouth!!
“The cops let us haul it up here after we found you. Told ‘em we knew you.” Said William.
“Thanks, William.” I whispered.
“Call me Bill. Come on; I want to show you your room.” He said.
I followed him into the house, which was neat and clean. He led me into a room with a bunk bed.
“You’re going to be sharing a room with Uri. Law says I can’t have boys and girls together. Plus; you’re old enough to be separated anyway. I have some rules, but they can wait. Welcome aboard, Mike.” He said.