Unicorn – or Carol, as she was also known – wanted to settle down. She was a registered nurse and he was a Certified Public Accountant, despite hating accountancy with a white-hot fury people normally reserved for disease and despots. They’d always railed against the conventional life, but somewhere along the line they’d changed. She’d changed. It was her sister having the baby. It had done something to her. Starchild didn’t know what, but something, man. Something. Suddenly she wanted to be an old lady – his old lady – and settle down and do the Johnny Square thing.
It was heavy.
Starchild – or Darren, as he definitely did not like to be known – had never fit in. He was a man out of time. He should’ve been born to reach his peak in the Sixties, but no. He’d been born in 1980. Nothing good had happened since 1980. Not one damn thing. He’d been miserable as a child until he’d caught something on late-night TV talking about flower power. It had spoken to him. It was as if the universe had reached down into his mom’s basement in Winston, Oregon, tapped him on the shoulder and said, Hey – this is your purpose. Become a citizen of the world. From that moment, that had been the plan.
Sure, to keep his parents happy he’d gone to community college and got his diploma, but then he’d embraced his dream. He’d met Unicorn over ten years ago and they’d clicked. Two people out of time, together, getting out of their minds.
The van veered as Starchild searched for a pen. He had to write that down. That was a lyric. Two people out of time, together, getting out of their minds. He’d broken his guitar and, truth be told, he couldn’t really play it anyway, but he was going to learn. And then they were going to get the band back together.
The one thing about roads like this was that as long as you kept the wheels on the thing, you weren’t going to crash. Finding someone to run into here was an achievement. It was a long and lonely road.
Then it hit him. Maybe the drive was the trip. The lesson. This was what the universe had been trying to show him. That no man was meant to travel these long roads alone. He needed a companion. Damn it. He would go see Carol – Unicorn – and sort their shit out. She had said she didn’t want to give up the life altogether, just, y’know, hang out on both sides of the fence. Suddenly, that seemed pretty alright to Starchild.
And there it was. He was no longer just driving. Now he was driving towards something and that felt right.
The road was long, but not flat. As he cleared the ridge, he was surprised to see people at the side of the road. Even more surprised to see the airplane that lay crumpled on its side behind them.
As they waved him down, Starchild pulled over the van. You had to help. We’re all in this thing together. OK, he’d been jacked a few times, but c’mon, man – give peace a chance.
They were an unlikely looking bunch.
An old guy with two metal cases. A dwarf. A young guy. A woman. And a big, scary-looking dude. Must’ve been, like, ten feet tall.
Starchild rolled down the window. “You folks alright?”
The woman did the talking. “Hi. Yeah, we kinda broke down.”
“In a plane?”
“It’s a long story.”
“What’s up with him?” asked Starchild. The big guy was shaking slightly and mumbling to himself.
“He’s a nervous flyer.”
“Yes,” said the old man in an English accent, “and none of us greatly enjoyed the crash.”
“We got down, didn’t we?” said the dwarf.
“Gentlemen,” snapped the woman. “Now is not the time.” She smiled at Starchild. “Could we get a lift to the next town?”
“It’ll be a little cramped,” said Starchild.
“When isn’t it?” muttered the old man.
“It’ll be fine,” said the woman. “We’d really appreciate it.”
“OK, then.” Starchild got out of the van and went around to open the side-door. There was a real knack to it.
The woman and the young dude guided the big guy into the back.
Starchild picked up the old man’s cases. “We can put these on the roof.”
“You shall do no such thing.”
“What’s in there?” asked Starchild.
“The brain of JFK.”
“Wow. OK. Heavy.”
Eventually, they got everybody in. The dwarf and the smiling fella sat in the front with Starchild, and everyone else was in the back. The van started up on the third attempt and they were off.
Starchild took a joint out of the ashtray and lit it before turning to his two companions in the front seat.
“So, where are you guys coming from?”
“Nowhere,” said the dwarf.
“Ohhh, OK.”
“Actually,” he said. “Could you tell me where we are?”
“Sure.” Starchild grabbed the map on the dashboard, turned it over and pointed.
The two men looked at it for a few moments.
“Wow,” said the dwarf. “Never would have guessed there.”
THE END