I was raised by a single mom in an era when that was the
exception, not the rule. She honestly tried her very best and although her love
for me was never in question, she fought mental illness and debilitating
physical problems all of her adult life.
The summer before I was to enter the 6th grade,
people who loved her convinced her to sign herself in to a mental health
facility. The next question, of course, became “What to do with me?” I spent a
month with my aunt and her kids in a distant state, then flew across the
country to live with my dad and his family, sorta kinda.
He had remarried (to the Wicked Witch of the West), and
sired two rug rats. I was pretty inconvenient…again. The decision was made. I
would go to boarding school, a Military Academy at that. As I reflected later,
the depths of her desire to keep me away were indeed deep. The private school
was relatively expensive and they were not rich.
At the end of the summer, I was prepared to matriculate at
San Rafael Military Academy. I had a footlocker; uniforms both Olive Drab and
Dress Blue; and all my clothes had tags sewn in. I was to begin this new stage
of my young life in two days.
I was staying with my grandmother, a wonderful lady full of
love and fun. She lived fairly close to the new school and was a convenient
place to stage all my stuff. About six o’clock in the evening the phone rang.
It was mom.
To say I was surprised would be an understatement. Hi Mom. Wow, I’m surprised to hear from you.
I didn’t think they would let you use the phone in the hospital. You’re not?
Where are you? You’re here? Sure I want to see you. Ok, I’ll stand by the
mailbox on the curb so you can find us. Then, in a few minutes….Hi Mom! Cool! I didn’t know you had MayBeth with you! MayBeth was her
sister-in-law and I had a secret crush on her from the moment I first saw her. Yeah, I’d like a soda. Sure I’ll go with you
to get one. I didn’t know the soda they were taking me to get was halfway
across the country.
I got in the car, and before I knew it, we were on the
Freeway headed for the Great State of Texas. Did I feel kidnapped? Not really.
After all, I was with my mom. We had done so many road trips together
over the years that a moving car was like a second home to me, and I was always
up for an adventure.
Things went pretty smoothly from my perspective, but there
was stuff going on of which I wasn’t aware. Mom planned to cross the state line
in Needles. There are only so many highways that leave the state. By this time
my dad had figured out not only that I was gone but also that my mom was the
perp. If you know who the ‘Unsub’ is, do they become simply the ‘Sub?’ In any
case, the APB was out, and the local cops pulled us over in Needles. Turns out
I was the ‘Droid they were looking for,' and I was taken into protective
custody. Mom and MayBeth were not arrested, but I got a ride in the patrol car.
It is interesting being in protective custody, at least it
was back in the day. First of all, let me say that I was no stranger to the
inside of a jail. My mom used to date a county Sheriff. She would visit him in
the evening as he worked at the local lock-up. I would go along and while she
was visiting, I would play draw poker in the cell block with the inmates. So
yeah, I knew what the inside looked like. For the Needles Mounties, I was a bit
of a problem. I wasn’t a criminal and hadn’t done anything wrong, so they
couldn’t just throw me in a cell and forget about me, but I might be a kidnapping victim, and until
that was sorted out, I needed to be ‘protected’ from everybody, it seems.
So what does a small town cop do with a ten year old? I
slept in a cell by myself, but during the day I had the run of the station. I
became a self-taught expert at taking my own fingerprints. I recall the ID form
to be filled out when someone ran afoul of the law. Ten fingerprints and a
space to describe any identifying tattoos; location and picture or words. That
may be when I decided to forego ever getting a tattoo myself. The sheriff had a
deal with the local doughnut shop, and brought in breakfast and lunch from
their selection of day-old goods at very reasonable prices. Doughnuts and milk
for breakfast. Doughnuts and milk for lunch, then a nice nutritious hamburger
for dinner.
The whole Custody thing was a mess. Mom had physical custody
of me as a result of the divorce, and when she went into the hospital, I was
just sent to my dad’s. As far as I know, there were no modifications to the
custody order, so she had as much claim to me in California as she did in
Texas. So was I really kidnapped? Or was
she just picking me up under the old “Easier to ask forgiveness than permission”
thingy.
On the third day, Mom won some sort of legal tussle and they
released me into her custody. Lickety-split, we were across the state line into
Arizona, and home free. I heard later that my dad arrived in Needles to collect
me hours after we crossed the border.
The balance of the trip was unremarkable. I returned to Texas
and back to regular school. Two years later, Mom was committed to the same
institution, I repeated my trek west, finally did enter the Military Academy
for a year, and have lived in California ever since.
Mom? She only left the State Hospital to go to a rest home,
where she died at the age of 57. Her “Treatment” consisted of numerous
Electroshock Therapy sessions. I was never able to have a normal conversation
with her again.
