Surviving Survival

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Picks up where the episode left off.

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Part One

Screeching his Torino to a halt next to Humphries’ Cadillac, Starsky bolted from the car as if shot from a cannon. He ran to the edge of the road and right away spotted a human figure running into the canyon towards what he immediately recognized to be his partner’s over-turned car.

“Oh my God, Hutch!” The thought of Hutch and his car rammed off the road and tumbling down the side the mountain side was nearly enough to make Starsky sick.

He estimated, by the distance the car traveled, that it had to have rolled at least three and a half times before finally coming to a rest on its roof.

According to Colonel Sonny McPhearson, Hutch was pinned underneath it, but with all the thick brush and the angle at which the car lay, he could not see him right away.

He recognized the full-figured running man as being Victor Humphries. Somehow, he too, had been tipped off that Hutch was still alive, and Humphries was intent on silencing him for good. “Like hell he will,” Starsky thought as he continued his way down the hill behind him.

His speed was aided by an intense adrenaline rush and fueled by his hatred for the man intent on putting a bullet into his best friend’s brain to silence his testimony against him.

Within a few strides, Starsky caught up with his nemesis, tackling him. He got to his feet before Humphries, grabbed him by the lapel of his plaid sports coat and hauled him to his feet before landing a left hook to the jaw. This sent Humphries sprawling back to the ground and caused him to loose his cheap toupee which did little to hide his baldness in the first place. This time, however, Humphries did not get up, nor was he moving.

After making sure his prisoner was no longer an immediate threat, Starsky ran towards the overturned car not quite sure what he would find. The Colonel had informed him that Hutch was very much alive, but it was now almost half a day since he’d left him, and Starsky prayed silently as he made his way towards the car that his friend still was.

As he got closer, he began to make out a still figure laying on the ground with his left leg pinned under the roof of the driver’s side of his car. The driver’s door hung open, loosely attached by a single hinge as it rested on the ground near him. Hutch was positioned on his back, arms out stretched, head down in the direction of the ravine, and not moving. If it hadn’t been for the car pinning him in place, he might have slipped further into the ravine.

“Hutch!” Starsky called out as he approached the car. No answer. “Hutch!” Still no answer.

Starsky was nearly out of breath when he finally made his way around the car to his partner. He could swear his heart was ready to leap out of his own chest as he approached the unmoving form.

Starsky dropped to the ground next to Hutch and let out a loud sigh of relief as he watched his partner’s chest rise and fall in a normal rhythm.

“Hutch,” he whispered, “Hutch,” he repeated. He watched protectively as Hutch began to stir. Finally, his eyes cracked open, however, they were glazed over and unfocused.

Starsky gently lifted his partner’s head and spoke in a low soothing voice. “Hey partner, we did it.” Hutch looked like he’d just noticed Starsky was there, then he let out a weak cough.

Starsky gently lowered Hutch’s head so he could take a closer look at him What he saw chilled him. Hutch’s eyes were sunken and dark rings encircled them. His skin was very pale and dry — too dry. A deep laceration marked his upper forehead where blood, now dried, lead a trail down the side of his face. Hutch appeared worn and confused.

As Hutch continued to regain consciousness, he began shivering uncontrollably, since he no longer sustained the energy to keep his body temperature at normal levels.

Weak and only semi-conscious, Hutch could only speak just above a whisper. “Sta-Starsky?” He reached up with an unsteady hand, placing it on the side of his partner’s face as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. When he finally made contact, he let out a long sigh of relief, overwhelmingly grateful Starsky had found him.

“I’m right here, partner. I’m gonna get you out of here, so don’t you worry. Okay?”

Starsky pulled off his own jacket and covered his partner with it.

“Ho….how’d you find me?” Hutch asked in a weak quivery voice.

“Your Colonel friend informed me where I could pick up our POW.” Starsky said with a small grin as he took a hold of Hutch’s hand and gently squeezed it.

A weak chuckle came from Hutch, “Oh, that guy.”

“Yeah, that guy. Listen buddy, I have to go call for help to get you out of here. I’ll be right back, so hold on, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Starsky tucked his jacket securely around Hutch before starting back up towards the Torino. He stopped only to grab the now conscious Humphries. He read him his Miranda rights as he handcuffed him and led him to the backseat of his car.

Starsky glared at his prisoner with intense hatred, and said in a low and threatening voice that most would not dare challenge, “You make any attempt to move, and I swear I’ll kill you, Humphries. You hear me, you filthy, slimy son-of-a-bitch? I’ll kill you! You keep your ass here until I get back!”

Humphries, not feeling so powerful anymore, gave a quick nod and turned away from Starsky, expressionless.

After making the calls for rescue crews and an ambulance for Hutch, Starsky ordered a squad car to transport the prisoner to booking. The last call was placed to Captain Dobey.

Starsky opened the trunk of his car, removed four road flares then struck each one before carefully placing them on the side of the road to be easily be spotted by the approaching emergency vehicles.

Although desperately wanting to be by his partner’s side, he waited up by the road for help to finally arrive. As he waited, he silently offered up a prayer of thanks that he was able to locate his partner alive.

Within ten minutes, though to Starsky it seemed like an eternity, the first of the emergency crews began to arrive….an ambulance. Starsky stood in the middle of the road waving them down with both arms flapping as if they would’ve missed the road flares in the street, and the red mars light flashing on top of his red Torino.

He ran to the ambulance, recognizing the two paramedics as Christopher Hollander and Michael Marcado. They had accompanied him and Hutch on countless crime and accident scenes where there were live victims involved.

Starsky approached Christopher first, as he was in the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Starsky, whatcha got for me?”

“Chris, it’s Hutch, he’s down in the ravine pinned under his car, he’s been there for about three days.”

“Hutch?! He’s the victim?! Damn! Okay, man, go be with your partner, Mike and I will be there shortly, we have to gather our equipment.” Starsky nodded then turned and rushed back down into the canyon.

Chris turned to his partner next to him. “This is going to be pretty dicey, Mike.”

“You’re telling me. Let’s go, man.”

Starsky ran back to his partner’s side as fast as he could. Hutch had once again lost consciousness.

He leaned over Hutch, stroking his hair and speaking to him in a soft comforting tone. “Hutch, come on buddy, can you wake up for me, huh? Help is coming, we’re gonna get you outta here. Come on, open your eyes.”

Hutch stirred and slowly regained consciousness. He opened his glazed eyes, barely able to focus on the figure who was hovering over him.

“Mmmm….didn’t realize I was falling sleep,” he murmured.

“You’re making me nervous fading out like that, Hutch.”

“Sorry, can’t help it,” came the groggy reply.

“It’s okay, just try staying awake until we get you to the hospital, then you can sleep all you want. Okay?”

“‘Kay,” was Hutch’s only reply as he fought hard to stay awake.

The ordeal of spending three days pinned under his car had taken its toll on Hutch’s body.

He didn’t know how much longer he could have lasted in the condition he was in. He was left with no food or water, save for the sip from the Colonel’s canteen. He was unable to move, even to turn his body. His back, shoulders, and rear end felt incredibly painful, and in some spots, there were raw, burning sensations. The constant throbbing of his crushed left leg left his foot painfully numb. Added to this was the cramps in his right leg from the inability to straighten it. The leg had not been crushed by the car, but it was bent at the knee and hip due to his foot being jammed up against the body of the car. This caused extreme discomfort in his joints. His overall misery was topped off by an incredible headache.

The psychological stress was just as bad. Hutch didn’t have a clue if anyone was going to find him in time. He’d imagined the torture Starsky was going through, not knowing where he was. He remembered how he’d felt when Starsky was being held captive by cult leader Marcos’ devout followers. It had nearly driven him insane.

Hutch didn’t even know if his apartment was still in one piece. When he last left it, he had prime ribs for two in the oven and for all he knew, his place may have burned to the ground by now, along with those of his neighbors at Venice Place. This, of course, added guilt onto his list of troubles.

Starsky, already crouched next to him, noticed his uneasy look. “How ya doing, buddy?”

Hutch looked up into his eyes. “Starsk? My apartment…. How’s my apartment? I had the oven on when I left, I was supposed to be back within an hour.”

“Relax, partner, the only thing burnt was your prime rib. Too bad I didn’t get there sooner. It really looked like it would’ve made great sandwiches,” Starsky said, trying to lighten Hutch’s mood.

Hutch snorted. “Leave it to you to think about your never-ending appetite in a bad situation.”

“Hey, Mom still says I’m a growing boy. ‘Sides, I hadda keep my strength up while searching for you.”

The paramedics finally made their way to Hutch, and Starsky forced himself to step aside to allow the paramedics to access their patient.

Chris was the first to approach. He crouched down beside Hutch, noticing his lack of awareness of his surroundings. He spoke to him in a louder than normal voice. “Hutch, it’s me, Chris Hollander. Don’t try to move, okay? I’m here with Mike Marcado, we’re going to help you. I first need to immobilize your head and neck with a special collar.”

Mike approached on the left side of Hutch and dropped his pack. He immediately pulled out a rigid cervical collar which he gently applied to Hutch’s neck as Chris, now crouching directly behind his patient, gently supported the head and neck as one unit. Chris turned to Mike, “We’re going to need the spinal board to finish the immobilization once we get him out.”

Mike began to make his way back up to the road, cursing under his breath something about always having to be Chris’s ‘little errand boy.’

Chris yelled from below, “Mike, don’t forget the blankets, oxygen tank and non-rebreather face mask!”

“Yea, don’t forget to kiss my ass,” Mike grumbled under his breath.

Chris removed his trauma shears from his utility belt and cut up the seam of Hutch’s flannel shirt sleeve, exposing his entire arm. Carefully, he inspected it for any lacerations, dislocations, or deformities. Since none of these was present and Hutch denied any pain in that arm or shoulder, he proceeded to take his blood pressure which he found to be too low. He grasped Hutch’s wrist to feel for his pulse which was 115 beats per minute — it was a little too fast.

Chris checked Hutch’s respirations next and noted 25 breaths per minute…. Also a bit fast, though not dangerous, but he decided to continue monitoring him closely.

Noticing his sunken eyes, lack of color, and the dryness of his skin and lips, Chris immediately assessed that Hutch was, among other things, severely dehydrated.

In a loud voice, Chris explained to Hutch, “I need to start an IV so we can begin getting fluids back into you.”

In a weary but determined voice, Hutch demanded “No! NO IVs! Don’t stick anything in my arm! Please!” He was having flashback from only a year and a half earlier when he was forced to endure the heroin-filled needles pushed into his arm. The thought of more needles terrified him.

Starsky knelt down beside his partner, took his hand and spoke in a calming voice.

“Hey, listen to me, Hutch. You have to let him do it…they need to get fluids back into you. You’re all dried out. You know Chris Hollander, he’s good at what he does. We worked beside him and Mike at least a thousand times. Trust me, buddy. I’ll be right here the whole time. Okay?”

Hutch took a deep breath, returned a weak squeeze to Starsky’s hand then nodded. He tried turning his head towards Starsky, but the cervical collar prevented him. He just squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Starsky’s hand as he waited uneasily for what was coming.

By the degree of tenseness in Hutch’s entire body, one would have though Chris was getting ready to chop off the arm.

Chris worked at inserting an IV catheter into Hutch’s veins which wasn’t easy since his blood vessels were in the midst of collapsing from the lack of fluids. Even with a rubber tourniquet tied around his upper arm to make the veins in his lower arm dilate, it remained a difficult task.

After several attempts to successfully insert the large needle, and just as many groans and colorful words from Hutch, and nasty glares from Starsky, Chris eventually succeeded. He then attached a glass liter bottle of ringers lactate IV solution in an attempt to begin re-hydration.

Holding the bottle in his hand, Chris looked over at Starsky who had been hovering the entire time. “Here, hold this, and don’t drop it, whatever you do.”

Starsky took it and held it up, grateful he could do something for his partner, even if it meant being his human IV pole.

All the poking into his arm aroused Hutch further from his semi-conscious state. He peeked up at his car one more time. He decided right then, it was a lost cause for sure, and would need replacing.

“Damn,” he whispered to himself.

Starsky looked down at him. “What was that, buddy?”

Hutch smirked. “Looks like you finally got your way, partner. This car is a goner.”

Starsky returned the smile. “I’ll tell you what, after you’re outta the hospital, we’ll go and pick out a nice hotrod, huh? Maybe we’ll get you a Torino of your very own. We can go drag racing down the strip.”

Hutch just rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Starsky was encouraged by the slight smile on his friend’s face.

By this time, Mike had made his way back down the hill with the spinal board and the rest of the supplies. With all the equipment he was lugging, he was lucky he didn’t take a header the rest of the way into the canyon himself. He was stating a few choice words of his own as he stumbled to the scene, dropping all the equipment…except the oxygen tank, of course.

The rescue crew had finally arrived and followed Mike down. They wasted no time in assessing the scene before deciding on a plan of action to extricate Hutch.

They applied big wooden blocks called cribbing under all the spaces of the car to hopefully increase its stability and prevent the car from rolling completely onto Hutch during their attempt to move it. Next, a long, thick chain was attached from the rear axle of the car to the back of a huge tow truck parked on the road, normally used to haul semis. This also aided in securing the car from falling further, and it would be used to complete the task of dragging the car up to the roadside after its prisoner was freed.

Looking at the position of the car, they decided it would be too risky to move it while Hutch was still under it. It seemed too likely it would slide the wrong way, crushing him further. It was decided that the best course of action would be to make sure the car was totally stable. Using spades, they carefully began to remove dirt from around Hutch’s body in hopes they could create the room needed to allow them to slide him from underneath the car.

In the meantime, Chris ran his hands completely up and down Hutch’s upper body and right leg checking for possible broken bones, dislocations, impaled objects, and lacerations. Except for the laceration on the forehead, everything else checked out okay. He also asked Hutch a slew of medical questions concerning his past medical history, such as allergies, medications, and pre-existing medical conditions. He assured him the receiving hospital would be asking these same questions plus many more.

Mike ran back up the ravine to call the receiving hospital and inform them of Hutch’s present condition. The emergency room doctor instructed him to continue monitoring Hutch’s vital signs, treat him for shock, and continue to replace bottles of IV solution as they ran out. The doctor would be waiting for their arrival.

Chris placed the non-rebreather mask over Hutch’s mouth and nose and covered him with a blanket to conserve body heat, both treatments were precautionary measures for preventing shock from setting in. Chris handed Starsky back his jacket.

Hutch moaned wearily, “Starsk?”

“Right here, babe.”

“Stay with me. Okay?”

“Hey, buddy, I ain’t goin’ nowhere, I’m your IV pole.” Starsky replied with a crooked smile that Hutch couldn’t see since his eyes were closed. Starsky ran his fingers through the soft blond hair to indicate he was right at his side.

“See, I told you were good for something.”

Starsky smiled, grateful his partner could still joke.

The rescue workers spent two hours of careful digging which included fighting stubborn roots, the remains of bushes, and having to do some digging with bare hands. This was aided by plenty of grunting and cussing to help them along. Finally, they determined there was now enough space between the car and Hutch to be able to safely slide him out. This was going to be a bit tricky.

They placed additional cribbing underneath some of the spaces they had created for extra support and removed the driver’s side door to allow them more room to work.

The two paramedics got on either side of Hutch, each hooking an arm under an armpit in preparation to pull him out onto the spinal board. The board was positioned just behind Hutch’s head and supported in place by two of the rescue workers. Chris and Mike were getting in position to pull him out and onto the board in one quick, smooth motion.

Starsky just stood above Mike watching intensely as he held onto the IV bottle which had been changed two times since Chris first started it.

Hutch looked at them nervously, knowing that once they began moving him, the bone fragments in his crushed leg were going to be painfully jostled. He was breathing rapidly in anticipation, and he actually began sweating a little which stung his lacerated forehead. At least both paramedics liked the idea of him sweating. It showed he was starting to re-hydrate.

Chris looked at Mike, “Okay, on my count, one…two…three!” As they pulled Hutch out and onto the board he arched his back and let out a blood-curdling scream. Starsky gasped and threw himself at Hutch’s side.

Finally frustrated with holding the IV bottle, he passed it to one of the rescue crew. “Here, hold this,” he said, then positioned himself at Hutch’s head and began stroking his hair.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Calm down. Just relax, huh?”

Hutch squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to will the pain to subside.

“They got you out, buddy, but they need to splint your leg.”

Hutch grabbed onto his partner’s jacket. “Oh…! It hurts! Oh shit, it hurts! Starsk! Please…don’t let them touch it! Oh God, don’t let them touch it!” He pleaded.

Starsky spoke softly as he continued to stroke the blond’s hair. “You have to calm down, Hutch, they have to splint you. It’ll only hurt worse once they start moving you if they don’t.”

“I can’t! I can’t! Starsky, it hurts too much…please don’t let them touch it. The pain is too much!” Hutch continued his tight grip on his partner’s jacket. It seemed all the pent up stress was finally beginning to seep out of him, and he was loosing control of his emotions.

Starsky felt himself getting excited. “Hutch! Listen to me! The only way they can bring you out of this canyon and into the ambulance without causing more injury to your leg is by splinting it! It’ll only hurt worse if they don’t! Just take a deep breath and calm down. Okay, buddy?”

Hutch took a couple of deep breaths and, after a few moments, finally collected himself.

“All right, go ahead.” He relaxed his tight grip on Starsky’s jacket, squeezed his eyes shut and tensed up as he waited for what was coming next.

Starsky nodded towards Mike, giving him the go-ahead, but he stayed by Hutch’s side.

Mike cut away Hutch’s blue jeans, exposing the crushed leg and examined it for protruding bone fragments and impaled objects such as branches and roots. He was grateful that he didn’t find any.

Starsky winced and felt a wave of light-headedness as he stared at Hutch’s deformed lower leg. It was angled in the center as if it were a joint.

He had never been bothered that way on the streets when he had to endure the horrible conditions of the many victims he encountered. But this was different. This was Hutch. He remembered Mike telling him the other day that he had almost fainted as he watched his young son get a few stitches in his chin after falling onto the edge of a coffee table.

The paramedic team gently lifted the leg to apply the splints. Hutch arched his back and again screamed out. Without thinking, Hutch reached up to his hovering partner, grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him down on top of him into a tight bear hug. Starsky just let himself be manhandled by Hutch. Besides, he suddenly wasn’t feeling strong enough to stop him even if he wanted to.

Hutch screamed, “Please, stop! My leg! Put it down! Put it down! Starsky, they’re ripping it off!”

He was able to feel the bone fragments grinding against each other causing painful muscle spasms. It felt like a knife slicing deeply from the top of his thigh all the way to his foot.

“Okay, Hutch, nobody is ripping it off. Just let them work. They don’t want your bones moving around. They’re almost done; you’re gonna be fine. Just let them finish splinting it for you.”

Hutch just kept a tight hold around Starsky and breathed heavily into the oxygen mask.

After applying the make-shift splints and returning it to the spinal board, the pain began to finally subside. Slowly, he released his partner from his tight grasp.

“Sorry, Starsky…I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” Hutch said between heavy breaths. He was sweating more heavily now.

“‘S’okay Hutch, that’s what buddies are for.”

As they prepared Hutch for transport out of the canyon, Starsky took a moment to sit back and collect himself. He was still feeling a bit off kilter from the sight of that leg. He reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a candy bar and began devouring it. The pure sugar began to slowly return him to normal.

I wish all medicine tasted like this, Starsky silently mused.

Hutch noticed the silence and lack of movement. He darted his eyes in Starsky’s direction the best he could.

“Starsk, are you all right?”

“Oh yeah…just fine…I just need a little breather.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, Blondie, really…I’ll be okay, I just need a minute.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

The rescue crew had a wire Stokes basket brought down to the site. After strapping Hutch securely to the board, the paramedics, assisted by the now mostly recovered Starsky, lifted the board and its passenger, gently placing him into the shallow, elongated basket. They strapped the board and Hutch securely in place. Using long strips of strong bandage tape, they literally taped down the collar Hutch was wearing by running the strips across the collar and securing the ends to the board. This was to further immobilize Hutch’s head and neck. All the confinement was making him feel claustrophobic.

The three rescue members and two paramedics lifted the entire package and proceeded up the ravine with Starsky also gripping the basket with one hand and holding the IV bottle in the other.

The thick brush and steepness of the canyon made the trip to the roadway a real struggle. They were forced to stop twice along the way to catch their breaths and readjust their grips on the basket.

As they loaded Hutch into the ambulance, Mike turned to Starsky. “Go drink some orange juice, that’ll help you feel a little better. That leg did look ugly.” With that said, he took the IV bottle from Starsky and hopped in the back of the ambulance to stay with Hutch. Chris took the wheel.

Damn, he’s good, Starsky thought silently.

The ambulance sped off to the hospital. Starsky jumped in his Torino and followed. Both vehicles had their lights and sirens blaring the whole way.

While in route, Starsky radioed Dobey to inform him of the latest status.

The squad car Starsky asked for arrived to transport Humphries allowing him to be able to go straight to the hospital with his partner.

**********************

Starsky and Captain Dobey had been in the waiting area for about three and a half hours with Starsky impatiently pacing the floor for most of it. The five cups of coffee he drank only increased his edginess.

“What are they doing with him in there?” Starsky blurted out in exasperation.

“Starsky, pacing a hole in the floor isn’t going to hurry things along, these things take time.”

“I know, Captain, but no one came out even once to give us any information on what’s going on.”

“How are they supposed to work on him if they’re out here talking to you? …Let them do their job. They’ll tell us something as soon as they’re ready to.”

As if on cue, a middle aged woman dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat came into the waiting area towards the two men. “Excuse me, is one of you a Mr. Starsky?”

“I am,” came the reply. “How is he?”

“Mr. Starsky, my name is Dr. Kam Littleton and I’ve been taking care of your friend Kenneth Hutchinson. Mr. Hutchinson has given us verbal permission to release information to you since he has no family in this area.”

Captain Dobey approached Dr. Littleton. “Doctor, how is Detective Hutchinson doing?”

“Mr. Hutchinson has several medical problems right now, however none of them are life threatening. But he will be out of commission for quite some time, I’m afraid. At the moment we are in the process of re-hydrating him. He is very dehydrated. Any longer without fluids and he may have began suffering kidney failure.

“Since he had no food intake for days, his electrolytes are low, particularly his potassium and sodium levels…. We are administering them now. He’s also in hypoglycemia.”

“Wait,” Starsky said, “he isn’t diabetic.”

“You don’t have to be diabetic to become hypoglycemic, just be deprived of sugar. Haven’t you ever felt dizzy from going a long while without eating? Maybe you also had a horrible taste in your mouth?”

“Yeah, after spending unending hours in a courtroom usually.”

“Then you experienced hypoglycemia yourself.”

“Oh. Well, what else is going on with my partner?” Starsky was anxious to know every last detail of his friend’s condition.

“He has also has several dicubidi ulcers on his shoulders, parts of his lower back and buttocks. These are commonly known as open bed sores that are normally a result of laying in one spot for a long period of time. They were irrigated, packed with sterile medicated gauze, and will be closely watched for infection until they heal up. He will have to be on antibiotics in the meantime. He’s also extremely exhausted from the entire ordeal and will need lots of undisturbed bed rest.”

Starsky was looking at her with shock and asked the question he was afraid to ask. “The leg, Doc…. How’s the leg?”

“The leg is our biggest concern right now. Both of the long bones in his lower leg, the fibula and tibia, were fractured. They were broken in three places but they were clean breaks and did not break through the joint…so there is no danger of arthritis or chronic pain from this. The orthopedic team reduced the bones and placed a heavy splint on his leg.”

Starsky looked confused. “Reduced?”

“They realigned his bones, Mr. Starsky, just think of it as putting a jigsaw puzzle together.”

“Starsky…just call me Starsky.”

Dr. Littleton smiled. “Okay, Starsky. Hopefully with the proper care and with strict adherence to our medical advice, the bones should heal nicely without him having to go to the operating room for skeletal pins and/or rods.”

Starsky sighed knowing full well how stubborn his partner could be about following medical advice, especially if it was going to put him out of commission. Damn…he’s going to be a handful…I just know it.

Captain Dobey looked at the doctor. “Dr. Littleton, is that all of it?”

“Hopefully, Captain, but right now we’re monitoring his leg for a condition called compartment syndrome which is most common in victims of a crush injury, much like what he’s experienced. It’s the excessive bleeding into the spaces between the muscles and skin. This causes a pressure build up in that limb and can pinch blood vessels and nerves, interfering with circulation and nerve impulses. It’s accompanied by severe swelling and pain. We’re going to monitor the leg over the next few days which is the main reason for the splint right now. Hopefully we will be able to cast him soon which will provide more stability to the fracture.”

Starsky, was still reeling a bit from the news. “Doctor, I want to see him.”

“We have him on strong pain medication so he can sleep peacefully. Perhaps you will be able to see him in the morning.”

“Please, Doctor, you don’t understand…. I need to be there with him. For three days I didn’t know he if he was dead or alive. He’s my partner, we’re always by each other’s side…. He would never leave me here alone and I couldn’t do that to him. He was scared to death down in that ravine and he’ll probably be just as scared and confused when he awakens. I need to be there, Doc…please.”

Dr. Littleton saw a genuinely concerned man who was somewhat frightened himself. “All right, Starsky.” Her voice suddenly became very authoritative. “You may go in, but let me warn you, if you disturb him or interfere with any of his nursing care, I will see that you are tossed out of here and not allowed to return. Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, ma’am,” was his only reply.

“In that case, Mr. Hutchinson is up in room 223.” She lowered her voice to a more calming tone. “I should’ve known you would feel strongly about being in there. All the while we had him in the E.R. he kept asking for his partner.” With that said, she turned and walked away.

Starsky turned to Captain Dobey. “Captain, I don’t know how long I’ll be here with him, but I want to stay until he wakes up.”

Captain Dobey knew better than to try to put a time limit on him, so instead he just said, “I understand your concern for your partner, but the D.A is going to want those reports filled out, especially when they may result in a disbarring hearing for Humphries’ lawyer James Balford. From the information I have gathered so far, it seems he may have had knowledge of Hutch’s disappearance.”

Starsky looked at him with fire in his eyes. “I should’ve known that low-life scum was in on it.”

“You go be with your partner I’ll need to dig out more information on this crooked lawyer.” Captain Dobey wanted to stay and visit with Hutch but thought it would be best to let Starsky have his time alone with him for a while. He would be back the next day when Hutch would hopefully be awake and ready to answer some questions himself.

“Thanks, Captain, I’ll keep you informed on any changes.”

Captain Dobey nodded. “You do that.” With that said, he turned and proceeded down the hall towards the exit.

Starsky ran quickly up to Hutch’s room. When he entered, Hutch was in bed sound asleep. He was on an inflatable mattress to help keep the pressure off the ulcers. He had been bathed, his face shaved, and hair combed. The laceration on his forehead had been cleaned and bandaged. His broken leg was in a large splint that went from his toes up to his thigh. The splint was made of thick bulky cotton, with several layers of long wide plaster strips running down the inside and outside of his leg and was held together with several ace wraps. A very large bag of ice sat over the fracture site. The leg was elevated to help alleviate any swelling. He was hooked up to yet more IV bottles which continued to re-hydrate him.

Hutch looked so peaceful lying there, compared to just a few hours earlier when he was so frightened and writhing in pain down in that ditch. It almost calmed the still nervous Starsky.

Starsky stood on the left side of the bed and stared down at him for a long while. He felt infinitely grateful that he’d found his partner alive. Three days of not knowing where his friend was, was enough to age him at least 20 years. Starsky pulled up a chair next to the bed, then lowered its railing and again took hold of Hutch’s hand as if he needed physical contact just to make sure he was really there.

He looked at his watch which read 2:35 a.m. He put his head down on the mattress intending to rest his own weary eyes for just a few minutes.

The next thing Starsky knew, there was a gentle hand on his head, stroking his hair. He sat up with a start, confused for a moment as to where he was. He saw from the window, the sun was beginning to crack the horizon. He next looked down at Hutch who was watching him through barely cracked eyelids and grinning weakly. By then, Starsky remembered everything. He looked at his watch and was shocked to discover it was 5:30 a.m. He grunted at the pain in his back as he continued to straighten up.

Starsky beamed down at his partner, grateful to see him awake. He put his hand on the side of Hutch’s face and in a low soothing voice, he said, “Hey, partner, I see they have you all fixed up here. How are ya feelin’?”

Every inch of Hutch’s body ached. He only had enough energy to speak just above a whisper. “I feel like I’ve been tackled by the entire defensive end of the Minnesota Vikings.”

“Yeah, well, you look it, buddy. How’s the leg feeling?”

“Throbbing, but I suppose that’s to be expected. Starsky, you don’t have to stay here with me, I’ll be all right. You look horrible, go home and take care of yourself.”

“Hutch, I should be here in case you need anything.”

“Starsky, I’m sure all I’m going to do for a long while is sleep, I’m so tired.” With a weak smile added, “You promised I can for as long as I wanted to once I got here. Why don’t you get yourself something to eat, and get some sleep. You really look terrible.”

“Sure, what you really want to tell me is to take a long shower but you’re just being polite.” Starsky said with a grin. He was rewarded with a weak one from Hutch..

Starsky noticed he was starting to fade again. He reached up and stroked the blond hair and whispered “Okay, buddy, I’ll be back this afternoon. You just rest. Call me if you need anything at all, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Starsky stood up and smoothed the blankets around his friend.”

“I’m sorry, Starsk.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For acting like a big baby down in that ravine.”

“That?” Starsky continued in a hushed tone “Hutch, I don’t think anyone would’ve acted any differently if they were put in that same situation. Moving that leg around like that hadda hurt like hell. I know you’re tough, and I know you can take pain really well. I was just glad I was able to be there for you. Now go to sleep, you need your rest.”

Hutch was fading fast and was nearly asleep. “Okay”.

Starsky raised the railing to the bed.

“Starsk.”

“Yeah, buddy.”

“Thank you for finding me.” With that said Hutch was finally sleep.

“Any time, partner.” Starsky felt his eyes stinging a bit at Hutch’s words. “Any time.”

Starsky stared at his sleeping friend for a while before he finally left to go home. After a long shower and a bite to eat, he fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head hit his own pillow. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to sleep peacefully which he did through the entire morning.

 

Part Two

It was after 1:00 p.m. when the now more refreshed Starsky made his way back to the hospital. Hutch was sitting up picking at a very bland lunch specially prepared by the on-staff dietitian that the nursing assistant had brought in for him.

He was giving his account of the entire incident to Captain Dobey, who sat in a chair next to the bed with a pen and pad writing down Hutch’s narrative.

Starsky also noticed the basket of fruit on the night stand and worked to suppress his grin.

Big, tough, Captain Dobey can be such a softy when he wants to, Starsky thought silently.

Although, obviously worn down, Starsky thought Hutch looked better than the day before. It would be quite a while until he looked more like his old self again.

Hutch looked up when Starsky entered the room. He was pleasantly surprised to see his curly-headed partner. In a stronger but still weak voice said, “Hey, Starsky! How’s it going?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Blondie?” Starsky asked, smiling, as he walked up to the bed examining with displeasure the concoction on Hutch’s lunch tray. “Looks like a need for a food smuggling operation is in order, pal.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be great! Just don’t get caught or they’ll throw us both out.”

“How’s the leg feeling?”

“It was throbbing earlier, but the nurse gave me something for it. The doctor will be in later this afternoon to look at it again. Maybe I can get my cast and crutches and get out of here.”

“Whoa buddy, don’t be in such a hurry to get out of here. Make sure you’re ready to go before you run out the door. And this time don’t lie to the doctor and tell him you’re feeling fine when you’re not. I know you, Hutchinson. I’ll rat you out in a heartbeat!” Starsky admonished strongly.

“Yes, Mother, I’ll be good,” came the somewhat sarcastic reply.

Dobey looked up as Starsky’s raised his eyebrows and said in a half serious tone, “Starsky, it certainly is nice to for you to come visit your partner in his time of need, but in case you already haven’t noticed, I’m in the middle of taking a statement here. How am I supposed to close the case with you barging in here talking about food smuggling and ratting out your partner?”

“Oh, uh, sorry, Cap. Any leads I can follow up on?”

“Yeah, why don’t you go see this Lou Scobey person and see what he can tell you.”

“Lou Scobey? What does that snitch have to do with this?”

Hutch chimed in, “He called me the day I was hit. He told me he had some information on who was doing the murders involving that extortion ring we keep running into dead ends on. Said he would only meet with me and in that sleazy joint Barnaby’s way across town. You know, the one the narcs keep busting?”

“So, you think he was setting you up?”

“I was just putting that prime rib into the oven when he called. I told him I would send you out there to see him and he said he didn’t trust you. He would only talk to me or the deal was off.”

“Hutch, why didn’t you call me? I could’ve met you out there.”

“Starsk, we couldn’t get anywhere with that case, we kept running into brick walls. Remember? I guess you can say I was desperate for some sort of break. Maybe because of that, I just let my guard down. I should’ve seen the set-up. Looking back, it was clear as day.”

“So, what happened? How did you wind up in the ravine?”

“I was on my way to see Scobey when a semi rammed me off the road. Kind of makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“That rat bastard!” Starsky said louder than he intended. He quickly looked around for anyone who may’ve been passing the room and heard him.

Dobey looked up at him, mildly irritated, “Well, now that everyone knows this Scobey is what you say a ‘rat bastard’, why don’t you find that man and get some answers from him? Just because your partner is laid up doesn’t mean you’re still not on duty. I want whoever is responsible for trying to kill one of my best detectives found and given the most severe punishment allowed by law!”

Hutch smiled. “I didn’t know I was your best detective, Captain.”

“Hutchinson, I said ONE of the best, not THE best…. Don’t let your head swell up too big, I may have to deflate it for you,” Dobey commented only half-serious then went back to jotting notes in his writing pad.

Starsky walked over to the side of Hutch’s bed, opposite of where Dobey sat. He bent down and whispered into his partner’s ear, “Chef salad with thousand island dressing for dinner?”

Hutch just gave a quick nod and darted his eyes towards Dobey, hoping he didn’t notice the beginnings of a very delicious smuggling operation.

Starsky and Hutch always smuggled food in for each other when one was hospitalized. They both agreed the food the staff served would only add indigestion and heartburn to their troubles. Of course, when Starsky was hospitalized, his requests usually consisted of a dietary nightmare, while Hutch’s stayed more on the reasonable side.

Starsky stood up. “Okay, buddy, I have to find Scobey and chat with him. I’ll be back to see you a little later. Okay?”

“Okay. See you later partner, and thanks for everything.”

Starsky looked across to the other side of the bed. “See you later, Captain.”

Dobey looked up from his pad. “The least you could’ve done was offer me a cheeseburger, Starsky. I haven’t been a detective for 25 years for nothing. I know when there’s illegal activity going on around me.”

Starsky gave him a crooked grin. “Sorry, Captain, but you have to be cooped up in here to become an accomplice.”

Starsky grabbed a banana out of the basket next to the bed and took Hutch’s hand and plopped it in there. “Eat this, you’re looking too skinny these days.” Starsky patted his cheek and threw him a wink and a smile, then slowly made his way to the door and exited.

***********************

Starsky pulled up in front of The Pits, and parked his Torino in front of the huge ‘no parking’ sign, painted in bold white letters on the outside wall. A few seconds later, he was walking through the front door of Huggy’s new establishment. He was greeted by a tall thin black man who went by the name of Huggy Bear.

In his generally high spirits, he greeted Starsky. “Well, if it isn’t the curly half of my favorite dynamic duo. What it is m’man? I’m glad to hear ole Hutch is safe and sound and tucked away nicely. I’ll stop by there later to see our hero. How’s he doing, anyway?”

Starsky had called Huggy the day Hutch was found to let him know what was going on.

“Right now they’re treating him for multiple problems, but most of all they want to keep an eye on the leg for a while. Hopefully he’ll be home in a few days.”

“Mucho glad to hear it, my friend.”

“Hey, Hug, you have any idea where I can find Lou Scobey?”

“Scobey? Maaaaaan, me and that cat don’t do business no way. What ever that snitch is doin’, I do not want to know nothing about it. I’m perfectly capable of finding trouble of my own, thank you very much.”

“He may’ve had something to do with Hutch being knocked into that ditch.”

“You kidding me?”

“Look, Hug, I’ll have to explain later, but right now I need to find him. Any ideas?”

“Last I heard he’s been hanging around that new sleaze joint called Jokers on 5th and Brookville. He knows I don’t let his kind in here. I do have some standards, you know.”

“Thanks a lot, Hug. Oh hey, and listen, one more thing, can you get together a Chef Salad with thousand island dressing? I can swing by to pick it up in a few hours.”

“A Hutch special? You got it, mi amigo.”

“You’re a good man, Hug.”

***********************

Starsky was driving towards Jokers, located in a more run down and depressed section of the city, when he stopped at a red light. While waiting for the light to change, he spotted it. His eyes grew, and his jaw dropped open.

“No way,” he mumbled to himself. “It can’t be.”

There it sat in a used car lot across the street on the corner that boasted a fleet of well-used junkers. A light brown battered, ’72 Ford LTD with a dented driver’s side door and a lighter colored front end. Three of its four tires were flat, the windshield had a spider web style crack, and a headlight was gone. That’s just what he was able to observe from where he sat.

“Ain’t no way there can be two of them. Can there?”

He kept staring at it as if it were a ghost that had come back to haunt him. It was a perfect resemblance to Hutch’s late car.

Starsky was so mesmerized by it, he didn’t realize the light had changed until the driver behind him blasted his horn. Mildly irritated by it, he yelled, “All right already, keep your pants on!” Even though he knew the driver couldn’t hear him.

Hmmm. I’ll have to keep Hutch away from that place for a while. He’s liable to want to buy that wreck, Starsky thought to himself as he began accelerating away from the intersection.

Starsky walked into Jokers and immediately spotted Lou Scobey sitting at a joker poker machine, sipping beer, smoking a cigarette, and plunking quarters into the machine. Scobey looked up at Starsky who was stealthily walking in his direction. The older man jumped up as fast as he could, which was not very, and ran out the back door which lead into a nearby alley. Starsky ran after Lou, quickly catching up to him. Starsky grabbed him by the back of his sports coat, stopping the older man in his tracks.

He quickly and not so gently spun Lou around so that they were facing each other. Starsky normally was not so rough with the older suspects he and Hutch encountered, but he couldn’t help but think that this guy was partially responsible for Hutch’s disappearance. He also could have very well been partially responsible for Hutch’s death had he not survived the accident, and therefore, Starsky felt, didn’t deserve the respect for his age.

Lou acted shocked and surprised, going into his defensive mode. “What gives?! I ain’t done nothing, man! C’mon Starsky, I ain’t done nothing!” Lou started backing away from Starsky, but the detective grabbed him, turned him around and cuffed him before spinning him back around to face him again.

Starsky demanded with clenched teeth, “Tell me what you know!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Louis Scobey, you are under arrest for accessory in the attempted murder of a police officer. And believe me buddy, I will be talking with the D.A to dig up any other charge we can pin on you!” Starsky proceeded in reading Lou Scobey his Miranda rights as he steered him not too gently towards his car.

***********************

Driving towards the precinct, he was stopped at that same light again. He was a little closer to “that car” this time. He now noticed, in addition to his first findings, one of the back lights was missing and the one remaining inflated tire was only a donut. He could not stop staring at that eye sore.

He shook his head and smiled to himself. “Who in their right mind would buy that clunker? Hutch would, that’s who.”

“You talking to me, Starsky?” came a small voice from the back seat.

“No! So keep your mouth shut until I tell you you can talk!” Starsky spit back.

***********************

Starsky, Lou Scobey and his lawyer sat in the interrogation room of the metro precinct. Starsky sat just opposite of Scobey.

“All right, Lou, I’m gonna make this easy. Tell us all you know about the attempted murder on my partner’s life, or I’ll see to it you never walk the streets again for as long as your miserable hide is alive. Talk to me, and we’ll try to cut you a sweet deal. It’s the big guys I want, but I’ll take you down with all of them as well if I have to.”

Scobey may have tried to smooth talk Starsky and Hutch in the past, but only for minor infractions. This however, was serious. This time, it wouldn’t be safe to try his luck.

Lou Scobey had been on the scene for more years than he could remember. He never really had much employment. He lived mainly on his wits, gambling, taking bribes, snitching, and drinking heavily. He was not a man of great pride. In his world, his own well being always came before anyone else’s. He would sell out his own mother if it would benefit him in any way.

Scobey looked at his court appointed attorney. “I want to deal.”

Scobey’s court appointed lawyer, Floyd McNamara, a tall, thin, redheaded young attorney fresh out of law school and short on experience, looked up at Starsky. “What can you do for my client?”

“It’s up to the D.A., but I can only recommend a sentence reduction in return for your client’s testimony.”

District Attorney Ben Stone was called in to listen to Lou’s story and to decide on what charges to pursue and sentence recommendation.

Scobey sat next to his lawyer and literally spilled his guts.

Ben Stone did all the questioning while Starsky listened intently. Ben Stone was an average sized man about 45 years old with receding brown hair with graying temples. His eyes were almost as blue as Hutch’s. Ben Stone took his position as D.A. very seriously. He was good at what he did and could gobble up attorneys like Floyd McNamara and spit them out with little effort. He was a fair man and was willing to work with suspects, but he had a tough and very no nonsense attitude. Most knew not to try and hustle him. He always did his homework thoroughly.

Scobey began. “I was approached by two men in a bar who offered me money to call Detective Hutchinson out onto Canyon road.”

“How much money, Mr. Scobey?”

“A few grand. Two to be exact.”

“Go on.”

“I told Hutchinson I had information on a murder/extortion ring, he and Starsky was working on. Word was, they couldn’t get anywhere with the case. I knew it would be the perfect story to get him to come out so I told him to meet me at Barnaby’s because I thought I was being watched at the normal hang out. I knew he had to drive Canyon road to get there.”

“Who were these people, Mr. Scobey?”

“Uh…it was, Jim Balford and some big goon he was with. Roy, I think his name was.”

Starsky chimed in “That would be Roy Slater. He’s a hitman, but of no use to us now. He’s dead. Fell off a six-story fire escape while running from me three days ago.”

“Jim Balford?!” Ben Stone shouted as he bolted out of his chair, sending it flying back into the wall behind him. This startled all that were in the room. “Defense attorney James Balford?!”

Ben Stone looked at Starsky with fire in his eyes. Then turned to Lou Scobey, “Mr. Scobey, are you absolutely sure you’re telling us exactly what transpired? Think carefully. A man’s career is on the ropes here.”

“Mr. Stone, I’m telling you exactly what happened. It was Jim Balford and that Roy fella who put me up to it, but they never told me why they wanted him to come that route…I swear they never told me they were looking to bump him off.”

Ben Stone leaned over the table in Starsky’s direction and stared at him with fire in his eyes. He demanded very slowly and seriously, “I want this bastard brought to me. I’m going to personally shred his license to practice law with my own two hands! One thing I will not tolerate is a crooked lawyer!”

Ben normally didn’t raise his voice when angry, but this time he did. He was a straight-laced attorney and had no tolerance for those who didn’t walk the straight and narrow.

Starsky jumped up. “I’ll hand him to you on a silver platter, Mr. Stone.”

With that said, Starsky was out the door and in his car, racing through mid-day traffic.

***********************

Starsky strolled into Jim Balford’s office and walked up to his number one suspect, who had a phone in his ear. Starsky grabbed the phone, put it to his own ear and said into it, “He’ll be available to talk in 15-20 if he’s lucky.” Then he slammed down the phone.

“Mr. James Balford, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer, attempted obstruction of justice, and everything else the D.A. can dig up. Oh, and Mr. Stone is waiting for your ass so he can hang it. Let’s go.”

Starsky cuffed the lawyer, read him his Miranda rights and shoved him towards the car.

As he was driving towards the station again, he passed that same corner for the third time that day and sat at that same light. Again he found himself staring at that oversized paper weight in the corner car lot.

Man, is that ugly? he thought silently to himself. I sure hope they get rid of that thing before Hutch finds it. I can just see him trying to drive that junker off the lot as is. Starsky couldn’t help but smile to himself and shake his head.

After booking Jim Balford, Starsky made his way back over to Huggy’s to pick up Hutch’s dinner. He also had Huggy add a hunk of black forest cake, and two cans of rootbeer Shasta. Hutch normally ate healthy food, but he was not totally above sweets every now and then. This seemed like a good time for Hutch let down his health food guard and indulge a little.

Starsky made his way to Hutch’s, unprepared for what would greet him. Hutch was in his bed, panting in severe pain, with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and sweat pouring out of him. His blankets were pulled off and his gown was soaked from perspiring.

“Hutch!” Starsky dropped his package and hurried to his partner’s bedside. Starsk put his hands on Hutch’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, buddy? Talk to me!”

“Starsk…my leg…. Oh God, I can’t take it. I think it’s going to explode,” Hutch said, panting.

“Hang on, buddy, I’m gonna get the doctor in here.”

“He’s already on his way. The nurse already spoke with him. Oh shit! I can’t feel my foot, my leg is about to burst open!” Hutch said as he continued to pant heavily.

A tall middle-aged man with balding white hair entered the room with a nurse and walked up to Hutch’s bed. “Mr. Hutchinson, you remember me? I’m Dr. Ellis, your orthopedic surgeon.” He turned to the other man standing in the room. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dr. Ellis, and who might you be?”

“Dave Starsky, Ken’s partner.”

Dr. Ellis looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Your partner?”

“We’re homicide detectives, Dr. Ellis.” Starsky quickly clarified before any other assumption could be made.

“Oh, of course. Mr. Starsky, I’ll need you to wait for me in the waiting area while I examine your partner.”

“No!” Hutch spoke up. “Please, let him stay, Doctor.” Hutch was still panting in pain. It was too much for him to even open his eyes.

Hutch felt like a baby wanting his partner to stay, but he was so frightened he did not care right at that moment.

“Sure, Mr. Hutchinson. Only if you’re comfortable with it. We just have a strong policy on patient confidentiality, but if you’re giving verbal permission I don’t have a problem with that. All I ask, Mr. Starsky, is that you stand on the other side of the bed so you’re not in the way.”

Starsky stood at Hutch’s side while the doctor took down the dressing on his patient’s leg and exposed his other leg for comparison purposes. Hutch’s injured calf was almost twice the size of the healthy one. The skin was taut, hot, and deep red. Dr. Ellis had the nurse administer a shot of a strong narcotic, then produced an instrument that resembled a tire pressure gauge with an extremely long needle on the end of it. Both Starsky and Hutch’s eyes widened at the sight and Hutch clamped down on his partner’s hand, making him grunt a little.

“Mr. Hutchinson.” Dr. Ellis began, “This is an arterial pressure transducer. I know the needle on the end of it is quite big, but it’s necessary so I can measure the pressure the bleeding into your muscle compartments is exerting. I’m almost positive you have compartment syndrome, but I need to make absolutely certain of its severity before I can begin treatment.”

Hutch just gave a quick nod. The medication was beginning to dull the pain, but he knew it would do next to nothing when that needle was inserted into him.

“Mr. Hutchinson, I’m going to have to insert this into several places in your calf to get several readings on the pressure gauge. This will tell me what steps we need to take next. Unfortunately, this is not going to be pleasant for you.”

“Please, Doc, just do something,” Hutch pleaded. Since his dealings with Ben Forrest and his goons, Hutch had developed a severe aversion to needles of any kind, but the pain was so great at that moment, it over-rode any of his normal objections.

The nurse swabbed a small section of the anterior portion leg with an alcohol pad and the doctor slowly inserted the needle deep into the front part of the leg.

Hutch began to groan and squirmed a little. He tried to not let on how much pain he was in. Starsky tried to comfort him knowing exactly how much pain his partner was in.

“It’s okay, buddy, you’re doing good.” Meanwhile Starsky could hardly look at that needle plunging into his partner’s leg. He was beginning to get a tingly feeling throughout his own body.

The doctor noted the pressure reading on the gauge and pulled out the needle. The nurse applied a clean gauze to the slightly bleeding wound which she would do for each injection site. Starsky took a deep breath in attempt to collect himself.

Dr. Ellis inserted the needle deep into the side of the calf. This time, Hutch felt it a little more.

He gripped Starsky’s hand hard and began breathing hard again. “Oh shit! Take it out! Please!” Hutch pleaded.

Starsky bent over and whispered into his ear, “Shhh, Hutch, try to calm down. It’s okay, you’re doing great.” Meanwhile Starsky wasn’t doing so hot himself. He was now beginning to feel the return of that same light-headedness he had felt down in the ravine.

Damn, he thought to himself, get a hold of yourself, Starsky.

After taking a pressure reading, the doctor withdrew the needle. “Okay, Mr. Hutchinson, I’ll need you to roll to your side so I can test the back part of your calf.”

Starsky helped him roll over so that he was facing him. “Come on buddy, just a few more times and you’re done.” Meanwhile, Starsky was having a harder time collecting himself. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The nurse swabbed a section of the posterior calf and the doctor slowly inserted the needle again.

This time, Hutch let out a yell, wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled him close and buried his face into his stomach knocking the oxygen mask off his face. He screamed wordlessly at the unbearable pain.

Starsky stroked his sweat-soaked hair. “Hutch, come on, buddy, try to relax.” He started rubbing his back. “Shhh, it’s okay, buddy. I know that’s gotta hurt like hell.”

This time, not only was Starsky feeling light-headed, but his vision was getting a bit cloudy. He just closed his eyes and tried to shake the cobwebs out.

“Mr. Starsky,” Dr. Ellis said as he withdrew the needle once again, “are you feeling all right? You’re looking a bit pale”.

“Oh yeah, just fine.”

“If you’re not feeling well, then feel free to lie down on the other bed.” Dr. Ellis gestured to the empty bed on the other side of the room.

“No, I’m fine, really. Thank you, anyway.”

Starsky was trying not to let his friend know he was feeling fuzzy at the sight of him being stuck.

Hutch, finally calming down, pulled away from Starsky and looked up at him. “Starsky, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about me, buddy. I feel just great.”

“Mr. Hutchinson,” Dr. Ellis said, “I need to do this one more time to the back of the calf.”

Hutch took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around his partner. He was trembling this time. The pain from that needle was more unbearable than he thought he could handle. Starsky just held onto him and rubbed his back.

“Last time, buddy, then it’s over.” Thank God for small favors.

For the last time the doctor plunged the needle deep into his posterior calf and waited for a reading to show on the gauge.

Hutch tightened his grip on his partner, buried his face into his middle again and screamed into it.

Dr. Ellis withdrew the needle, Hutch loosened his grip on Starsky, and Starsky took a few steps backward before finally completely passing out on the floor.

The nurse ran out to call for assistance and Dr. Ellis pulled an ammonia capsule from his white lab coat, broke it open, and held it under the fallen man’s nose. Two orderlies came into the room and Dr. Ellis ordered them to put Starsky on the empty bed in the room.

Hutch quickly flipped over and sat up looking towards his partner, but by then the narcotic was beginning to take its effect on him.

“Starsshky! Wuzz goin’ on?” Hutch slurred, as he was fading out himself.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Hutchinson.” stated Dr. Ellis, your friend just passed out from all the excitement. We’ll see to it he’s okay.” The doctor gently encouraged Hutch to lie back. Hutch, who by this time was feeling the strong effects of the pain narcotic did little to protest although his now glassy eyes stayed on his partner.

A few minutes later, Starsky began to stir and finally opened his eyes. The first sight was a nurse standing over him placing a cold rag on his forehead. He had to admit it felt nice. He turned his head and looked towards Hutch. Dr. Ellis and his residents were milling around him., changing IV’s taking his blood pressure, temperature, and pulse. One resident had a stethoscope to his chest listening to his lungs as he took breaths. Hutch sat there silently with a lethargic glazed-over look from the medication. The nurse charted all data as the orthopedic team worked him up.

Starsky forced himself to a semi sitting position although he was still quite groggy and weak.

“What’s going on?!” he demanded.

Dr. Ellis turned and walked up to his bed. “Mr. Starsky, your partner has compartment syndrome pretty badly. We need to take him to surgery to do what we call, a ‘decompression’ to the leg.”

“What? You’re gonna what?” Starsky moaned as he was trying to regain his bearings.

“We need to relieve the pressure in his lower leg immediately before it permanently damages the nerves and blood vessels. I’m afraid it’s not going to be nice. The only way to relieve the pressure is to make two very large incisions on either side of the calf and leave it open for a few days while the blood drains out of the muscle compartments. Hopefully, after a few days we can close it back up, apply his cast and finally send him home.

Starsky fell back onto his bed and put his hand to his forehead. He was stunned. “Oh my God. You really have to slice him open? How much?”

“I’m afraid it may have to be the entire length of the lower leg. How are you doing, Mr. Starsky?”

“A little better. What happened”?

“You just went into what we call psychogenic shock…you just passed out. Nothing serious. It’s not too uncommon among our visitors. It happens to the best of them and it’s self-reversing.

“How’s your head? You banged it pretty good when you went down,” Dr. Ellis asked as he ran his hand over the back of his head.

“Oh, I think I have a lump on it, but I feel okay.”

Dr. Ellis then began running his hand down the back of Starsky’s neck and the rest of his spine, palpitating it for deformities. “How’s your neck and back? Does any of it hurt?”

“Feels fine, Doc.”

Satisfied with Starsky’s answers and also with his exam of his spine, Dr. Ellis said, “I think you’ll be all right. I don’t see the need to have you admitted. The nurse will have some orange juice and graham crackers brought to you, and when she decides you’re feeling up to it, you can go. But don’t over-tax yourself for the remainder of the day, and stay away from hospitals from now on. Okay?”

“That’s always been my goal, Doc, but they keep finding me for whatever reason. I’ll be in the waiting area. Please let me know when it’s over.”

“You got it.”

Starsky looked up towards his partner who was lying silent and motionless in his bed. Hutch was staring at nothing in particular.

“Hey, buddy?”

Hutch managed to weakly turn his head and look towards his partner with glassy eyes and said nothing.

Starsky continued. “I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back. You’re gonna do fine.”

Hutch just stared at him emotionless. Finally he was wheeled out of the room followed by Dr. Ellis and his team.

***********************

Starsky had recovered from his fainting spell and was back pacing the waiting area nervously when Dr. Ellis came walking towards him with his usually bouncy happy gait. It had been two hours since he brought Hutch to surgery. Starsky liked this doctor. He had an extremely pleasant way about him and was honest and straight forward. He didn’t pull any punches when it came to explaining things, and Starsky liked that.

Starsky walked towards him and shook his hand when he finally approached him. “How’s he doing, doc? Can I see him?”

“First off, how are you doing, Mr. Starsky?”

“I’m doing just fine, and please, call me Starsky or Dave. Now, how’s Hutch?”

“Mr. Hutchinson is on his way back to his room. The procedure has been completed. We had to put a thick dressing on the leg to absorb the drainage so we couldn’t apply a splint to support the fractures. We’ll be changing them several times daily. We had to temporarily put the leg in traction to keep the fragments in place and to prevent muscle spasms.

“Can I see him, Doc? Please.”

“Dave, he’s still doped up pretty heavily. He won’t be awake until some time tomorrow.”

“I still need to see him. I promise not to disturb him.”

“Okay, but whatever you do, do not look at his leg. There will be quite a bit of drainage soaking through the dressing. We don’t need another episode like earlier, Dave,” Dr. Ellis warned with a smile.

“No, we don’t, Doc,” and Starsky was on his way to back to room 223.

Starsky quietly walked into Hutch’s room where he lay peacefully in his bed. His blanket-covered leg was now slightly suspended from the bed and weights pulled his leg slightly upward and longitudinally. Starsky knew it was to help with discomfort, but to him, it looked like some sort of medieval torture mechanism.

He pulled a chair close to the bed before sitting in it. He lowered the railing and took his partner’s hand and held it while just staring at him. He sat there for over an hour, compassionately watching over his partner as he slept. He knew Hutch was in for a rough few days and would be totally confined to his bed. His hopes of going home would be held off for another few days at least.

Even after leaving the hospital, Hutch would be dependent on him for basic needs. He wouldn’t even be able to drive his own car with a cast on his leg — not that he even had a one anymore. Starsky was bothered by how miserable and depressed Hutch would be from being so helpless.

Finally, Starsky stood up, raised the rail and silently walked out of the room then made his way out to the parking lot and got into his car and drove off. He drove until he came to that same light again. He sat there at the light staring at that same jalopy he had been staring at all day long. The light finally turned green, but instead of driving off down the road, this time he drove into the car lot and pulled up to a run down small mobile trailer and turned off the engine.

He slowly walked up to the trailer and lightly tapped on the door. The door opened and there stood a man, all of four feet tall, staring up at Starsky.

“Hi, welcome to Stanley’s used cars. I’m Stanley, but you can call me Stretch.”

“Stretch?” Starsky asked with a bit of shock before he got the joke. “Uh, Stretch, my name is Dave Starsky and…um I’d like to talk to you about that LTD you got here.”

“You would?” Stretch asked with shock then suddenly changed his expression when he thought he might sell that hunk of metal taking up space on his lot. “Oh, yes sir, right this way, please.” The two men began walking towards the car. “It’s a very fine car, Mr. Starsky. It’s slightly used so it may need a few things done to it. But it’s a fine piece of machinery, I assure you.”

“Yeah, I just bet it is,” Starsky mumbled to himself. He was hearing the tell tale signs of a very smooth sales pitch coming on, but it wasn’t really necessary. He was gonna buy that car regardless. His partner was going to have something to look forward to when he got home, besides being confined to a heavy cast.

“Uh, Stretch, I want to make this easy on the both of us. Just tell me what you want for it.”

Stretch looked stunned, but knew when he heard desperation.

“Like I said, Mr. Starsky, it’s a fine piece of machinery, and with a few small repairs, this baby will purr like a kitten. You’ll never regret your decision to buy this beaut.”

“The price, Stretch, just give me numbers.”

Stretch pulled a pen out from behind his ear, and a note pad from his shirt pocket and began jotting down math equations before looking up at his customer. “I’m asking five thousand dollars for her, sir.”

“Five thousands dollars! Are you nuts? Do I have the word ‘sucker’ written on my forehead, Stretch? I ain’t paying that kind of money for that piece of junk and there ain’t a sane person alive that would pay that much for it!”

Starsky turned and began walking off the lot when he heard the pitter patter of Stretch’s little feet running up to him. He hid his smile from his not-so-smooth salesman.

“Wait a minute, Mr. Starsky,” he was now talking fast and with a hint of desperation. “That was just my asking price, please, feel free to counter my offer.”

“Look, little man, I’ve been on the streets too long to let anybody take me for a ride.” It was now Starsky’s turn to do the smooth talking. “I know what you’re tryin’ to do and it ain’t gonna work. The most I’ll pay for that thing in that condition, is…” Starsky thought for a moment before coming up with a ridiculous price “…four hundred dollars.”

“Four hundred dollars?! Mr. Starsky, please…be reasonable! I’m a business man, I gotta make a little profit.”

“I’m gonna have to put a ton of money into it to get it reasonable once I get it off the lot.” Starsky took a deep breath. “Okay Stretch, I’ll go up to four fifty.”

“Eight hundred.” came the counter offer.

“Five hundred.”

“Seven hundred.”

“Five fifty.”

“Six fifty.”

“Five seventy-five or I walk off this lot right now, and you keep the car.”

Stretch thought for a moment and with defeated note in his voice said, “Okay, if that’s all I can get for it, then five hundred and seventy-five dollars is it, I guess. I’ll get the papers drawn up.”

Starsky followed the short man back to his trailer and filled out the necessary paperwork. Since the banks were already closed for the day, he told Stretch he would be back the next day with his money.

Starsky stopped off at Merle The Earl’s body and fender and told him what he was having towed to his place the next afternoon. Merle was not happy at what Starsky was asking of him. After a lot of yelling and jumping up and down on his part, and after a bit of pleading and begging on Starsky’s, and telling Merle the story concerning Hutch’s last car, Merle relented. He agreed to take the car in and attempt to make it run, but after hearing what Starsky already told him about it, he wouldn’t make any promises.

Starsky just made him promise not to decorate the interior with that fuzzy stuff this time.

“Starsky,” Merle began, “I don’t know why you two keep challenging me by bringing me one heap after the other.”

“That’s because we love to see an artist in action, Merle.”

“Well, ain’t you a jive turkey? Just keep in mind I can only work so many miracles.”

Starsky just smiled, “Call me after you’ve looked at it. But only call me. This is a surprise for Hutch, he’s not to know anything about it, Merle.”

“Is this the kind of presents you give to your friends? I sure hate to see what you give to your enemies.”

Starsky could not help but laugh as he started towards his car. “See you later, Merle.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” came Merle’s reply.

Starsky sat at the bar at Huggy’s staring none-to-interestedly into a mug of beer. His depression was evident to the bar owner. Starsky explained Hutch’s setback to Huggy, his eyes remaining lowered to the surface of the bar. Of course, he conveniently failed to mention him falling flat on the floor during the testing procedure being performed on Hutch’s leg. He knew Huggy wouldn’t say anything now, but at a later, happier date, he may feel the need to bring it up on a regular basis for the rest of his life.

“Man Starsky, I thought he was getting better?”

“Yeah, me too. Even if this is the worst he’ll face, he’s got a long road ahead of him.”

“Well, you tell my friend I will be there tomorrow with a dinner personally created by yours truly that will tickle his palate enough to make him forget his troubles.”

Starsky looked up from the bar at his friend and managed a faint smile. “Thanks, Hug. I know he’ll appreciate it. So do I.”

“Hey, anything for my favorite dynamic duo. You just go tell Hutch to get better. Okay?”

“Okay.” Starsky tipped his beer and emptied it in one gulp. Afterwards, he got up from the stool and patted Huggy on the shoulder. “See you later, Hug.”

“Later, my man.”

***********************

Starsky made his way back to Hutch’s room around 8 p.m. that evening. When he got there, the orthopedic tech was cleaning up after performing a dressing change on Hutch’s leg. He turned his head at the old bloody dressing that she was gathering up until it was properly disposed of. The orthopedic tech, a 5’7″ medium build woman with long brown curly hair and blue eyes, began to gently reapply the traction apparatus after having to remove it for the dressing change. All the while, Hutch remained asleep, still somewhat under the effects of the anesthesia.

Starsky looked at her name tag. “Oh, uh, excuse me, Ms. Karen, I can come back if you’re not finished in here.”

Karen looked up at him and smiled. “Oh no, that won’t be necessary, I’m just about done. I’ll only be a minute.”

Starsky kept watching her. She had a very unusual job where, among other things, she handled all the traction, casting, splinting, and bracing. Most people found this intriguing and liked to watch. Getting bombarded with questions from patients and visitors was quite the norm.

“Hey, Karen, how did his incisions look? I mean, were they big?”

“Yes, they extend down the entire lower leg, but it’s a clean cut. Hopefully, the scarring should be minimal.”

“Doesn’t all that traction hurt him?”

“Nope, it’s just the opposite. The weights that pull on his leg work to fatigue the muscles which forces them to relax. When the muscles are relaxed, they stop spasming. You don’t see Mr. Hutchinson complaining, do you?”

Starsky looked down at his friend who had not moved or even opened his eyes.

“No, I guess not.”

She looked at him again and this time her eyes widened and she cracked a smile. “Oh! You must be Dave Starsky, Ken’s partner?”

Starsky smiled back, “Yeah, we’re detectives. We’ve been partners for a few years.”

“I know, Mr. Starsky, I heard all about you.”

“You did?” he asked, a bit surprised.

“Sure I did,” she answered matter-of-factly, “You’re the one the orderlies had to scrape off the floor earlier.”

He blushed but did not say a word.

At that moment, she heard the operator paging her to the emergency.

Karen finished her procedure on Hutch, gathered up the rest of her things, and headed for the door.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens all the time. Oh and, FYI, visiting hours end in one half hour, but as far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen you in here. I’ll be back around 11 p.m. before I leave to check his dressing and examine his incision again. These things drain quite a bit and need to be changed often.” With that, she winked at him and exited.

 

Part Three

Starsky turned off the main overhead light to the room, leaving on only the small, dim nightlight mounted on the wall, over the bed.

He sat at Hutch’s bedside, lowered the rail, took his friend’s hand and held it in his own two. He stared down at his partner for a long while thinking about how he almost lost the best friend he had ever had. Starsky found himself unable to go home for some desperately needed rest. As absurd as it sounded, he felt that if he were to leave, Hutch would disappear again.

He was startled back to his surroundings when the hand he was holding softly squeezed back. He looked down at Hutch who was looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Starsky grinned, then softly spoke. “Hey pal, welcome back. How’s the leg?”

Hutch took a deep breath. The lingering effects of the anesthesia left him with just enough strength to whisper.

“Better. How’s your head?”

“Oh that?” Starsky rubbed the small knot on the back of his head. “You know how rock hard it is. It can really take a good knock. I’ll be fine.”

“Starsk.”

“Yeah, pal.”

“What’s bugging you?”

Starsky quickly looked away then back down at his friend. “Bugging me?”

“Something’s on your mind, I can tell.”

“You just take care of yourself. I’ll be okay. Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? I’ll sit with you for a while.” Starsky smoothed the blankets around his partner’s shoulders.

“Can’t. Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Starsky took a deep breath and smiled. “Hutch, I don’t know how you can read my mind even when you’re only half conscious.”

“I’ve known you too long not to. Now give.”

Starsky took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, nothing is really wrong. I’ve just been doing a bit of soul searching, that’s all.”

“About what?” Hutch was becoming more alert now.

Starsky looked down at his hands and the hand he was holding.

“I don’t know what to say, partner. I mean, when you disappeared the way you did, it was so hard to think of what might have happened to you. I felt so sick, I didn’t know what day of the week or time of day it was. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight. All I could think of was my partner is God-knows-where, by himself, in trouble and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had no idea how badly you were hurt, but I did know that, for whatever reason, you were unable to call me, unable to come home.”

Starsky felt himself choking up and took a moment to compose himself. He kept his eyes down at his hands.

“I felt so helpless. There was this horribly sick feeling in my gut that I just couldn’t shake. I knew it wouldn’t go away until I found you. That was the worst feeling I ever felt in my life. Then Huggy told me there was a contract hit out on a cop that may have already gone down. I just went to my car and cried like a baby, praying to God it wasn’t true. The thought of you being dead was too much to bear. The only time I ever felt as helpless was when Forrest and his goons grabbed you. All I wanted was my partner back, and didn’t know if it was ever going to happen.”

Starsky felt the tears stinging his own eyes. Hutch softly squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture but still avoided eye contact.

“Hutch, you’re my strength in life. You know, I never told you this before, but you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Better than becoming a cop, better than finding that Torino of mine. Until we met, I never knew true friendship. The so-called friends I had growing up in New York were not friends. I could never count on them like I can with you. If they did me any favors, they never let me forget it. I would be owing them for years, so I could never really ask for any. I could never be myself, or express my feelings with any one of them like I can with you without being made to feel like some sort of weakling. I would’ve been targeted as some sort of fairy in Hell’s Kitchen and probably jumped by every gorilla in that neighborhood. Hutch, you give so much of yourself to me and never ask for a thing in return. Sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to deserve you.”

Starsky cracked a small smile. “Remember when we first started hanging around each other, and you dragged me to see that weird movie ‘Love Story’ and I wound up crying my eyes out? Most guys would’ve laughed and ridiculed me about it for the rest of my life. You just put your arm around me until I got it together again. You did that right in the middle of the theater and didn’t care what other people thought about it. I think everyone around us must’ve thought you were my boyfriend or something.”

Hutch chuckled softly at the memory of that day.

“It was just a dumb movie, but it showed me I didn’t have to put up such a tough front with you like I always had to do with other guys. I could be myself around you. That meant more to me than you’ll ever know. God, I can’t even be myself around my own brother, Nicky. I got to put on this damn macho front all the time.” Starsky finally looked up into Hutch’s eyes.

“Hutch, you know you have a long road ahead of you. It’s not going to be easy. Even now, you’re confined to this bed for the next few days. I don’t want you to worry, I’m gonna stay right here the whole time and take care of everything for you. You hear me, buddy?”

Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he tried to regain control over his emotions. “Thank you, Starsky.” He paused to take another deep breath before continuing. “You mean the world to me, too. More than you’ll ever know. But I don’t want you to have to stick around here all the time just for me. Go home and get some rest.”

Starsky felt the lump in his throat growing. He adjusted his grip on Hutch’s hand. Starsky hated not being able to keep his emotions in check, but it seemed the events of the last few days were finally taking a toll on his own emotions.

“Hutch, I can’t leave you here. What if you need something? What if something happens? I need to be here with you, just in case.”

Hutch’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at his partner who was teetering on the edge of breaking down completely. “Starsky, please don’t cry. I’m going to be okay…really.” He grasped Starsky’s hand more firmly and pulled him a little closer to him. He spoke in a stronger but gentle voice. “Starsky, I’m not going to disappear this time. I’ll be right here when you come back. I promise.”

Hutch relaxed his grip on Starsky’s hand and smiled. “Besides, if you stay around here, who’s going to smuggle in my breakfast?”

That last comment finally produced a smile from Starsky. He sniffed a few times, and wiped his face with a few tissues he’d retrieved from the Kleenex box on the night stand. He cleared his throat. “Leave it to you to read me like a book.” He reached out and put his hand on the side of Hutch’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you, Hutch?”

“Buy me breakfast so I won’t get sick eating the hospital crap.”

Starsky let out a laugh, and Hutch smiled back at him.

“Starsky, go home and get some sleep. If you attempt to sleep in that chair tonight, you’re not going to have much in a way of a back by the morning. I’ll be all right, really.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Starsky kidded.

“I’m just trying to get you to stop worrying so much. Besides, since I’m cooped up here, I need you to do a few things for me.”

“Name it.”

Hutch closed his eyes and yawned. “I need you to water the plants.”

“Hutch, how will I know who needs what?”

“The care instructions for each plant are written down in a notebook on a shelf by the door of the greenhouse on left as you walk in. The name of each plant is written on a plastic tag imbedded into the soil of its pot.”

“Okay, consider it done.” Starsky began to rise up to leave until Hutch began speaking again causing him to sit back down.

“Can you also bring a few of my movie magazines? I’m gonna be cooped up in here for a while. I need something to pass the time. The new issues are supposed to be on the newsstand tomorrow.”

“Okay, you got it pal, I’ll bring ’em,” Starsky said as he started to rise up again only to sit down when Hutch continued to speak.

“Oh, and my shaving kit. The last time they tried to shave me, they nearly cut my throat. I’d rather do it myself, so don’t forget my hand mirror as well.”

“Magazines, shaving kit and hand mirror. Gotcha.” Once again, Starsky began to rise up from the chair when Hutch spoke again.

“Starsk, can you bring my radio? There’s nothing but boring soaps on TV during the afternoons.”

“Shaving kit, mirror, movie magazines and radio. Got it.”

“Starsky, you are going to bring breakfast, right? I can’t eat what they serve in here, it’s disgusting.”

“Hutch, why don’t I just hire a couple of big guys, and we can just move your entire apartment in here?”

Hutch laughed and said in a very drowsy voice, “I was being that bad, huh?”

Starsky smiled. “Nah, not at all. I’ll get all that stuff for you, buddy. You just rest some more. I’ll be back in the morning. Okay?”

He looked down at Hutch and waited for a response, but by this time, he was sound asleep again.

Starsky sat for a few minutes watching over him. He straightened out the blankets, then pulled them up to Hutch’s shoulders. He started for the door when it swung open. Karen, the orthopedic technologist, walked in carrying an armload of dressing.

She smiled at him. “Oh, Dave, you’re still here. Will you be spending the night?”

“Oh no, I was just leaving. Are you going to…you know, change the dressing again?”

“Yep, the last time before I leave for the night. Then the resident will have to do this himself until the daytime orthopedic tech comes in at 06:30,” Karen explained as she very delicately began to dismantle the traction apparatus before taking down the dressing. Hutch never woke or moved the entire time. His brief encounter with consciousness had exhausted him too much.

Starsky took one look at what she was doing and started walking towards the door in a hurry. “Uh…good night, Karen. See you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay, see you.”

Starsky exited the room and started for his car.

**********************

Starsky made his way home and collapsed into bed only to be back up by 6 a.m.

The only time Starsky had ever awoken this early was usually at Hutch’s strong insistence. This included: turning on the stereo, ripping the covers clean off , opening the curtains so the bright sunlight beamed down into Starsky’s eyes, and on cooler mornings, Hutch would open the windows wide, letting the room’s suddenly cool temperature take its toll on his slumbering partner. Eventually, Starsky would reluctantly decide it was easier to just get up than to try and hold out for more sleep. Of course, Hutch would have dirty looks and a few colorful words tossed his way for a few minutes following.

Today, Starsky was motivated by another agenda: to take care of his partner’s needs.

First, it was off to Hutch’s apartment to begin the chore of watering each plant individually. It took him almost 2 hours, since he had to look up each plant’s water allotment in Hutch’s notebook. Starsky had witnessed Hutch do it all within 30 minutes on many occasions.

Afterwards, Starsky gathered Hutch’s requested items into a small gym bag, and then called Huggy to put in an order for Hutch’s breakfast.

After going to the bank, he went to see Stretch and paid him for the car. Stretch promised it would be towed to Merle’s that morning.

On his way to Huggy’s, Starsky stopped at the newspaper stand to pick up the new issues of Hutch’s movie magazines, the daily newspaper, and as a second thought, a Hustler magazine. He shoved it in the bag the newsstand attendant provided. This would be a special surprise for his partner, he thought with a grin. After paying for his purchase, he headed over to Huggy’s to pick up Hutch’s breakfast.

Huggy greeted him in his usual upbeat mood.

“Well, good morning, Mr. Earlybird. Not too often I get to see you at this bewitching hour.”

“Morning, Hug. Hey I’m in kind of a hurry. Do you have that order?”

“No problemo, mi amigo.” Huggy handed Starsky the package containing his breakfast special. “I threw in breakfast for two since I doubt you slowed down enough to take care of yourself. Just be careful. There’s hot coffee in the bag.”

“Hug, you’re a good man. Thanks buddy.”

“Yeah, well, just tell Hutch I will personally be delivering his dinner tonight.”

“Will do, Hug. See ya later, pal.”

Starsky made his way to Hutch’s room by 9:30 that morning and found Hutch still sound asleep. Hutch normally didn’t sleep in this late. He was usually up before the sun.

Starsky didn’t feel too guilty waking his partner up to eat breakfast. He still wasn’t satisfied with Hutch’s pale, drawn look. Starsky believed the more he fed his friend, the better he’d start looking.

Starsky sat the packages on the table. He removed the untouched breakfast tray the kitchen staff had left and set up Huggy’s breakfast. He leaned down close to his partner’s ear and whispered, “Time to wake up, Blondie.”

“Hmmm,” was the only response he received.

Starsky was not deterred. “Hey Blintz, the nurse wants to stick this harpoon-sized needle in your butt, so you gotta wake up.”

This time, Hutch fought himself awake, opening his eyes and trying to blink the cobwebs out. He lifted his head off his pillow and spoke like someone with a whole lot of sleep still left in him. “Hummmmm, wha, wha needle? They’re gonna do wha?” He turned his head to see Starsky stooping over staring at him and wearing a big grin.

“I figured that would get your attention, babe.”

Hutch dropped his head back onto the pillow and let out a huge sigh of relief. “Well you sure know how to wake a person up real quick, Starsk.”

Starsky went to the foot of the bed and began cranking the head of the bed from its flat position to a more upright position.

“Your breakfast is going to get cold if you don’t eat it. Huggy made it special for you.”

Hutch looked at the set-up and although he was still a bit tired, he managed a small smile, before producing a huge yawn. Huggy certainly knew him well. His breakfast consisted of Granola cereal with skim milk, whole wheat toast with boysenberry jam, a banana, orange juice and coffee.

Starsky eyed it not-too-pleasantly. “Boy, I sure hope Hug packed me a real breakfast.”

He unpacked his and was happy to see scrambled eggs, sausage, toast with butter, pancakes with syrup and more butter, and coffee.

“See, Hutch, I told you Huggy likes me better.” Starsky teased as he began devouring his mess.

Hutch looked up at him from his granola, “You know some day you’re going to pay for eating that junk.”

“I already did this morning. Two dollars and fifty cents, to be exact.”

Hutch just smiled and continued eating.

After breakfast, Hutch began digging through the small gym bag Starsky had brought, and took inventory of the contents. After seeing the shaving kit, radio, and newspaper, he pulled out the bag containing the magazines and began sorting through them.

“Hey, Starsky, I really appreciate you going through the trouble getting my– whoa! Wait a minute! What’s this?” He held up the Hustler magazine and stared at the front cover then darted his eyes towards Starsky.

Starsky looked up sheepishly from cleaning up the breakfast cartons. “Uh, well, I thought since you’re gonna be stuck in here for a few more days, you’d want to keep entertained. If anything can keep a bed-bound man entertained, it’s gotta be that.”

Hutch turned back to the magazine. Up until then he had never owned or really viewed anything pornographic. His white-bread upbringing forbade it. There had been one time he and Starsky had to secretly meet Huggy, and the only safe place was an X-rated movie theater. Even then, he had felt uncomfortable and did not really watch the steamy movie playing.

Hutch stared at the cover not knowing what to make of it. He looked like an innocent boy just entering adolescence, then he broke into a smile. It was at that moment he decided to forget what his parents told him and let his hormones take over.

He began flipping through the pages, studying each photo closely. It took only a minute before Hutch abruptly slammed the magazine closed and shoved it under his pillow, then dropped his head back onto it and sighed. “Uh, I think I should save this one for later.”

Starsky began laughing at the sight of his flustered partner. “It got to ya, huh? Those magazines will do that to a man, buddy.”

Hutch blushed deeply and leaned back with his eyes closed, silently willing his raging hormones to calm down. He was, at that moment, very grateful for the blankets covering him.

Starsky was enjoying himself at Hutch’s expense. It was actually, the first good laugh he’d had since before Hutch’s disappearance.

“Oh, shut up, Starsk, it’s not funny.”

“Only from where you’re sitting it isn’t, buddy.”

Without warning, the door to the room swung open and the woman entering scared the both of them.

She was 6’4″ over 300 lbs., mostly solid, and had fiery red hair tied up in a bun. She wore a nurse’s uniform, and looked very, very serious. Hutch thought she could be the twin sister to Huggy’s weekend bouncer, Bubba.

Hutch was the first to speak up. “Um…uh…can I help you, miss?”

She spoke in a no-nonsense, military-style hardy voice.

“I’m Bertha, your nurse for today. According to your chart you’re bed-ridden for the next few days. The orderly assigned to you today is out sick, so I’m here to give you a sponge bath, Mr. Hutchinson.”

Hutch’s immediate reaction was to grab his blankets, pull them firmly up to his chin and slowly sink down into the bed.

Starsky eyes widened with shock, and he tried very hard to suppress the grin threatening the corners of his mouth. He thought she was every patient’s nightmare come true, and as sorry as he was that Hutch had to be here, he was grateful that today, he wasn’t the patient in the bed.

It was well known that when Hutch became nervous he stammered considerably. “Uh…no…no ma’am, I don’t need one today…uh tha…that won’t beuh…um…..necessary really, I was just going to shave today, tha…uh, that’s it.”

“Don’t argue with me, Mr. Hutchinson. You’re due for your sponge bath, and I have to see that you get it. Now either you can cooperate, or we can do it the hard way. Your choice, but either way, I gotta wash you down.”

Bertha turned to Starsky. “You’ll have to leave in the meantime,” she stated stoutly.

“Yes ma’am, I was on my way out anyway.” He bent down to speak into Hutch’s ear. “Now you be a good boy and let the nice nurse clean you up. I’ll be back later.” He patted Hutch on the cheek.

Hutch grabbed Starsky’s arm in desperation. “Starsk, please…please, don’t go…. Don’t leave me here alone with her.”

“Why? Still worked up over that magazine?”

“Hell no, not anymore, but…but…but I don’t want to have to sit here while she….”

“Mr. Hutchinson.” Bertha boomed, capturing both men’s immediate attention. “If you don’t let him leave, I’ll have to call security in here and have your friend escorted out, then you’ll be restrained until the procedure is completed.”

Hutch suddenly realized he was on the losing end of a battle. The last thing he wanted was to be tied down while Bertha bathed him. He hesitantly relaxed his tight grip on Starsky’s arm and relented, but he still held that scared-to-death look.

Starsky patted Hutch’s arm. “See you later, buddy, I have a few things to do. I’ll be back in a few.”

Hutch threw him a hateful glare, knowing full well he was enjoying the whole situation. Starsky just smiled and offered up his final words before leaving the room.

“Behave yourself, Hutchinson or no dessert tonight.” Then he was gone.

Hutch looked up at Bertha and nervously smiled as she move closer to the bed.

“Okay, Mr. Hutchinson, let’s get this started.”

She grabbed the blankets and threw them off her patient. Next she reached for his gown.

**********************

Starsky sat in the interrogation room at Metro police station for the better half of the afternoon interviewing Jim Balford and Victor Humphries separately. Both men held firm their denial of any involvement in the attempted hit on Hutch.

“Humphries,” Starsky said angrily, “you’re sitting there telling me to my face you had nothing to do with the hit on Sgt. Kenneth Hutchinson’s life. That you had no knowledge of his whereabouts on the dates he was trapped down in the canyon off of Mountain road, pinned underneath his car, and that you had no involvement in the cause of him ending up there. However, not only do you have probable motive for killing my partner, but I witnessed your car at the scene of the incident and you descending into the canyon, running with a loaded and cocked Saturday night special in your hand towards where my partner lay helplessly. That gun, with your finger prints all over it, has been recovered and is in the possession of the BCPD along with your car. I have stated in an official police report and signed an affidavit stating every detail of that incident, and will testify in court under oath over it.

“There were also several other county officials who were at the scene who witnessed you there while in custody, and they have also sworn to it. However, you are still denying your involvement in the entire incident. We have you dead to rights. You basically have no defense ,Victor. You’re wasting your and our time with this. I’m gonna nail you and your soon-to-be-disbarred attorney to the wall with this and enjoy every second of your misery.”

Humphries was in the interrogation room with a new defense attorney, Peter Macky, who was just an average run-of-the-mill defense attorney, trying to make a name for himself. If he could somehow get Humphries cleared of all charges, his reputation would soar and so would his fees. A few of the better ones Humphries tried to hire had refused to touch the case after reviewing the overwhelming evidence against him, and after Humphries refused to plead guilty to lesser charges.

“Sgt. Starsky,” Peter Macky began, “we’ve been over this already. My client had no knowledge of Sgt. Hutchinson’s disappearance or of the hired hit on him up until the day he went looking for him. It was his ex-attorney Jim Balford who contracted the hit. Once my client found out, he went out looking for your partner.”

“Since when did he suddenly find a soft spot in his heart for my partner? He tried to kill him a few days prior during a sting operation on his car theft ring. What reason would he have to want to save his life? He knew Sgt. Hutchinson was the only witness who could close him down and put him away. With my partner dead, he would walk away squeaky clean.”

“When my client found out that his then attorney put the hit out on Sgt. Hutchinson, he was afraid he would be charged in his death which is much worse then an organized car theft charge. With organized car theft he could’ve been walking the streets in five to seven years with good behavior. The death of a cop, well, that’s a whole other ball game. My client was trying to save your partner’s life, not because he was in love with him, but because he was worried about being wrongly accused of murder, like he is now. And the gun was for his own protection against Jim Balford, not for killing Sgt. Hutchinson.”

Starsky shot out of his chair, leaned over the table and stared Peter Macky right in the eye. He shouted with disgust, “What is with everyone these days? Everyone thinks I’m some sort of sucker! First some shady used car dealer, then Jim Balford, now you. You think I’m gonna buy that shit? You’re nuttier than Stretch if you do.

“Do you know what Jim Balford told me? He told me it was all your idea, Victor. He said you threatened him and his family with their lives and that he was getting ready to call us about the hit just before we found him. He tried to sell us some story about turning himself in as soon as he spoke with his lawyer. You want to know what I think? I think I need to buy a pair of boots because the shit has been piling up pretty damn high in here lately. Furthermore, I think the both of you had full knowledge of the hit and were involved in its planning and execution from the very beginning. The one thing you didn’t count on was my partner surviving. So, not only are you going away for running that stolen car ring because my partner is still here to take the stand, but for the attempted murder of a police officer…and I don’t think there is any room for dealing.”

Starsky walked towards the door and left the room. He told the uniformed officer standing outside to take the prisoner back to his cell. He then looked up to find Ben Stone standing at the one-way mirror…he had been watching the entire interrogation.

“Well, what do you think, Ben?”

“I think, for starters, we might be able to convince the judge to deny bail then take the evidence against both parties and use it to make a judge and jury so scared of them, they’re sent to jail for so long that when they finally get out they will be too damn old to commit any other crimes.”

“Well, I certainly hope so. See you later, Ben.” Starsky turned and headed down the hall towards the exit.

**********************

It was about 6 p.m. when Starsky made his way back to Hutch’s hospital room. He poked his head through the partially opened door carefully looking around the room. He spotted Hutch sitting upright in his bed listening to a jazz station on his radio and negotiating the daily papers New York Times Crossword puzzle in pen, like he’d always done.

Hutch looked up from his newspaper. “Lose something?”

“Oh, uh, Bertha isn’t in here, is she?”

“The coast is clear. We’re safe for now.”

Starsky made his way in, approaching Hutch’s bed, and smirking. “So, uh, how was your day?”

Hutch glared at him. “You mean how did my session go with big Bertha?”

By this time Starsky’s smirk had grown into a full blown grin.”Well now that you brought up the subject, how was it? Did you get your jollies off this morning?”

“It’s not funny, Starsk. She wasn’t all that gentle with me…and she said she’d be back tomorrow. I may have to fight her next time.”

“Yeah? You’d only lose,” Starsky said while laughing. “No offense, partner, but I think even on your best day, she’d kick your ass from one end of the hospital to the other.”

“Yeah, well, you know she found that Hustler magazine. She tried to take it away, but believe it or not, she didn’t get it. I won that battle.”

“You did? Really?” Starsky remarked with surprise.

Hutch reached behind his pillow and pulled out the now torn porn magazine and waved it at his partner. “See? Victory won, and most of the pictures survived the attack.”

“You mean you fought for that magazine? Mr. straight-and-narrow-choir-boy put up a brave battle for such smut? Hutch, I’m shocked,” Starsky taunted.

“It’s that outside bad influence that flew in from New York one day.”

“Oh well, I’ll have to meet this guy one day and have a talk with him,” Starsky joked.

“Good luck, buddy. Tell me when you find him. Oh, by the way, did you know Bertha is in fact Bubba’s sister?”

“Bubba’s sister?! Bubba as in Huggy’s weekend bouncer, Bubba?” Starsky almost screamed out in amusement.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“You mean to say that Bubba’s baby sister gave you a sponge bath?” That was too much for Starsky and he doubled over and nearly fell on the floor from laughing so hard.

“Oh Starsky, shut up, it’s not funny at all!” Hutch grabbed his pillow and belted Starsky over the head with it.

It took a while, but Starsky finally regained control over himself. He wiped his eyes dry and looked over at his partner who still had a weak look about him. He then became serious. “So, tell me partner, how are you doing? I can still tell you’re not quite a hundred percent yet.”

Hutch leaned back and sighed before speaking. “Better…I feel myself getting stronger little by little. Dr. Ellis was by today to look at my leg.”

“Yeah? What’d he have to say?”

“He said it was draining nicely and closed the incision partially with a few sutures. He told me if it continued to drain the way it has been, he would close it up a little more each day. Hopefully he can close it completely the day after tomorrow, then I can be taken out of this traction, casted up and finally sent home.”

“Really? That’s terrific, Hutch!”

“You’re telling me.”

The door swung open and in came Huggy carrying Hutch’s dinner as promised. He walked into the room and up to Hutch’s bed with the usual bouncy gait he had when he was in his happy-go-lucky mood.

He smiled at Hutch “Well, well, well. And how is my patient this evening?”

Hutch hadn’t seen his friend since before he disappeared. He was pleasantly surprised. Starsky forgot to mention Huggy would be bringing his dinner to him.

“Huggy! Come on in, buddy. It’s about time you came by to see me. Thank you for the breakfast this morning.”

“My pleasure, m’man, but that was just a warm up. What I have with me here is a true blue Hutch delight, for the one and only, from the one and only.” Huggy gave Hutch one of the two packages he was carrying and handed Starsky the second.

“Here you go, Starsky. I take it you never stopped long enough to eat, yourself.”

“Hug, you’re a man after my own heart,” Starsky told him with a smile.

“Yeah, well, careful how you say that, folks may start thinking those wild things folks start thinking when suggestive words are spoken, if you get my drift.”

Both men opened the packages containing their dinners, and once again Huggy had proven to know each of the men’s dietary habits very well. Hutch finally got his chef salad with thousand island dressing, and Starsky was delighted to see a 1/2 pounder greasy cheese burger decorated with just about every topping known to man. It was accompanied with a mountain of French fries staring back at him when he opened his container. Each got 2 cans of rootbeer Shasta and a huge hunk of black forest cake.

Starsky stared at Hutch. “I hope you don’t think you’re not going to eat that. You need to put some more weight on, pal.”

“Don’t worry partner, I’m not too worried about my diet today. All of this looks great. Thanks Hug.”

“Yea, thanks Hug.” Starsky echoed through a mouthful of burger.

“My pleasure, gentlemen.” Huggy looked at the traction apparatus attached to Hutch’s leg. “My goodness, Hutch, you gonna sit there and let them torture you like that? That’s gotta be killing you.”

“Actually my leg hasn’t felt this good since the accident.”

“Well, to each his own, I say. Well, my fine dashing duo, I have a restaurant full of patrons waiting to partake in more of Huggy’s specials. Later for now, I’ll be back tomorrow with another one of my delightful specials, Hutch.”

“Okay, bye Huggy, and thanks again.”

“Yeah, thanks again,” Starsky echoed Hutch once again through a mouthful of fries.

After they finished eating, Starsky took the untouched dinner tray left by the hospital dietitian and dumped the food contents down the toilet in the bathroom. He didn’t want any of the staff, especially one certain nurse, thinking Hutch was not eating and something was wrong with him. Starsky stayed with Hutch the entire evening. He told him about the interrogation with Jim Balford and Victor Humphries and what Ben Stone thought of it. They played countless rounds of gin, then finished the entire New York Times crossword puzzle together. Starsky surprised Hutch by contributing quite a bit to the completion of that puzzle.

They were watching the L.A Dodgers and the Philadelphia Phillies on the TV in Hutch’s room. The television was the only thing illuminating the dark room. It was a close game and Starsky’s eyes were glued to the TV. He was lounging in the visitor’s chair with his feet propped up on the foot of Hutch’s bed on the opposite side of the injured leg. He was so engrossed in the game that he didn’t notice Hutch had fallen asleep.

He was back at the bottom of the canyon pinned under his car. It was the dead of night. Not much of the city lights made its way down into that canyon, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds that formed in the sky.

He’d forgotten how long he’d been down there, but he knew he had to get out soon or he would die. He begged for Starsky to find him. Footsteps were running towards the car. “Someone knows I’m here. They’re coming to get me out, right? Oh please, God, let it be Starsky.” As the footsteps got closer, he noticed there were two sets of feet approaching, not one. “Who were they? What did they want? Was it Starsky coming with backup? Who else would it be? It couldn’t be anyone else. Right?”

They finally approached the car and stopped, Hutch looked up to see the darkened silhouettes of two men standing over him. “Starsky? Is that you, partner? You came to get me out, right, buddy?”

After a moment, the clouds finally gave way, sending the moonlight down over the two shadows revealing them to be Victor Humphries and Jim Balford staring down at him and laughing. They were pointing at him, taunting him, enjoying their complete power over his powerless body. Then they each reached into their sports coats and produced a revolver. “No, please, don’t shoot me! Oh God, please, think about what you’re doing! I’m a cop! Jim, you’re a lawyer for God’s sake! Lawyers don’t shoot cops!” They both laughed at him as he pleaded for his life. Simultaneously, they pointed their weapons towards his head and squeezed the trigger.

Starsky was startled out of his concentration on the game by the sounds of Hutch thrashing around and screaming. “Oh God, they’re gonna kill me! Please! No! Don’t shoot me! I’m a cop! You can’t shoot a cop!”

Somebody was shaking him, they were making sure he was dead. They were checking for life after sending two bullets into his brain. “They’ll shoot me again if they think I’m still alive.”

“Hutch, wake up!” Starsky had Hutch by the shoulders trying to shake him from his nightmare. “Hutch, come on buddy, wake up for me. Open your eyes.”

Hutch, still asleep, tried to fight him off. “Get away from me! Please…don’t…please…. Don’t kill me! You can’t shoot me.” Starsky shook Hutch harder and raised his voice in an attempt to awaken his partner.

“Hutch! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare! You’re all right, come on open your eyes, babe, open your eyes for me!”

Hutch’s eyes flew open wide. He had a tight grip on Starsky’s upper arms. He was panting hard and looking wildly around the room before his eyes finally rested on his friend. His trembling body was soaking. He slowly began to realize his surroundings.

“Hutch, you’re okay. You were just having a nightmare. You’re here in the hospital, you’re gonna be fine, buddy. Just try to relax, babe.”

Hutch did not say anything. He just laid his head back against his pillow and continued panting.

“Come on, Hutch, try to calm down, buddy. It’s all right…you’re gonna be fine.”

Hutch was doing everything he could to prevent it from happening, but despite his attempts, his eyes filled with tears and his panting grew heavier, eventually turning into sobs. It broke Starsky’s heart to see him hurting. He sat on the edge of the bed, scooped Hutch up into his arms and held him tight while his friend completely broke down. “Shhh, it’s okay, buddy. I’m sorry…. I didn’t know it was that bad. I didn’t know it’d gotten to you this badly.” Starsky rubbed his back soothingly, hoping it would help Hutch to relax.

Hutch cried for long minutes before he finally regained some control. He still trembled thinking about his nightmare and kept his tight grip around Starsky. It was too comforting to let go just yet. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and spoke with a strangled voice. “I’m sorry for putting you through this with me.”

Starsky continued rubbing his back while keeping his tight grip on his friend. “Hey, this is me, remember buddy? You don’t ever have to apologize to me. That had to be some pretty bad nightmare. You want to talk about it?”

Hutch took several deep breaths before he was able to speak. “I was back down in the canyon, pinned under the car, and Humphries and Balford found me. They each pulled a gun out and shot me in the head. I thought I was dead, Starsk. I thought they killed me. God, it was so real.”

“You’re not dead, buddy. You’re right here. You’re going to be just fine, babe. How long has this been going on?” Hutch didn’t respond. “Hutch, how long have you been having these nightmares?”

Hutch finally pulled away from Starsky and leaned back onto the upright bed. Starsky gripped his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes, making Hutch look back into his. “Hutch?”

He answered in a choked whisper. “Every night since.”

“Every night? You’ve been having these nightmares every night and this is the first you’re telling me? Hutch, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I just didn’t want to worry you with another one of my problems. I’ve been having quite a few of them lately in case you haven’t noticed. Besides, what can you do about them, anyway? They would have kept coming whether you knew about them or not.”

Starsky still did not like that Hutch kept things like that from him, but he did not want to argue. Perhaps they would talk about it later. “You look tired, why don’t you try going back to sleep. I’ll keep an eye on you for a while, make sure you don’t have any more of them.”

Normally, Hutch would have insisted Starsky go home but he was too tired, so he gave in this time. “Okay.”

Within minutes, Hutch was asleep again. Starsky stayed with him a few more hours. He finished watching the ball game, then stuck around for the late night news. When it seemed Hutch would sleep peacefully for the night he got up, replaced the chair, turned off the TV and quietly left. He would be back again the next morning with his breakfast.

Part Four

After bringing Hutch his breakfast the next morning, Starsky drove over to Merle’s to see about Hutch’s car.

All Merle could do was shake his head as he explained to Starsky what he would have to do to get it up and running. “Starsky, I don’t know why you would want to torture me and your wallet with this over-sized paper weight. Not only does it need all new tires, front and back lights, and a new windshield, it needs a starter, alternator, battery, water pump, fuel pump, valve covers, all new belts, and a complete brake job.”

“But the motor is working, right?”

“Oh yeah, it’s just fine. If there is one thing I can say about these junkers, it’s that they have powerful motors…. But that’s all I can say. And even that will need a complete tune up. Now, why don’t you do the sensible thing and forget about this jalopy and put me and it out of our misery?”

“You said the motor’s strong. That’s good enough for me. Do you think you can have this thing running in two days?”

“TWO DAYS?! Starsky, are you out your cotton-pickin’ mind? You smoking those funny cigarettes, or something?”

“Come on, Merle. This is really important. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.” Starsky pleaded with his puppy dog eyes and the most pitiful look he could make.

Merle just let out a long breath. “I will do the best I can, but even as an automotive artist, I can only do but so much.”

“Merle, I owe ya. I’ll call you later to check on the progress.”

“Yeah, but don’t expect any miracles out of me,” Merle called after Starsky as he was leaving the garage.

Starsky cruised the streets for the next few hours checking on a few known hot spots where trouble was a pretty common occurrence. He did more thinking than he did eyeing the neighborhood

Starsky approached the Captain’s office and knocked on the door but entered before Dobey could respond to the knock.

Dobey looked up from his lunch and stared, not too pleasantly, at Starsky.”Starsky, hasn’t anyone ever told you you need to wait for a response somewhere between knocking and barging in?”

“Oh, sorry, Cap. I was wondering if you heard anything on the bail hearing for Balford and Humphries.”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Dobey grumbled through a mouthful of sandwich. Meanwhile, Starsky was already eyeing the candy bar sitting on his desk. He was sure it was dessert, but who’s dessert it remained to be seen.

“What did they have to say?”

“Bail hearing is scheduled for tomorrow at 2 p.m.. Ben Stone will be there for the both of them.”

“That’s terrific. It’s about time we get our turn at them.”

“Don’t go throwing any parties until after the hearing. You don’t know what the judge is going to say about it.”

Just then, the phone rang. Dobey snatched the receiver off its cradle.”Dobey,” he grunted into it. Dobey jumped up and began pacing the room, spitting into the phone. “Edith, what do you mean the plumber wants to put in a new toilet and tub?! I only wanted him to check the drain in the kitchen sink!”

As soon as Dobey’s back was to Starsky, he quickly slithered over to his desk, and, in one smooth motion, snatched the candy bar, turned and walked out of the office. He headed out of the department and was proceeding out to the garage towards his car when he heard a loud and thunderous bellow.

“STARSKY, YOU GET RIGHT BACK HERE WITH THAT!!!!”

****************

That evening Starsky made his way back to Hutch’s room. Hutch was sitting up in the bed with the morning newspaper in his hand and the phone in his ear.

“Yes, I’m doing much better these days. What? Oh no, the car is totaled. There’s no way they can fix it, it’s gone. What do you mean, that’s good?” Hutch laughed. “You’re gonna come and pick out a new car for me? Starsky made that offer already. He’s talking about getting me a hotrod. No, I think I can manage to buy my own car… No, I wasn’t blinded when I bought the last one. No, I’ll be okay…really, I’ll do fine. They may be letting me out of here real soon. No, I won’t be going back to work right away. It looks like I’ll be stuck at home with a big cast on my leg for a number of weeks. No, I don’t think it’ll be necessary for you to come all the way out here, I’ll manage fine. Besides, I don’t think Starsky is going to give me a moment’s peace the whole time, anyway. Okay, I love you too, Mom. Tell Dad hello for me. Tell him to call me, I’d love to speak with him. Goodbye, Mom.”

Hutch looked up after hanging up the phone and smiled.

“Mom says hello.”

“How’s your mother doing these days?”

“Okay, I guess.” Hutch smiled “She was ready to jump on the next plane here to make sure I was being taken care of.”

“What?” Starsky asked in exaggerated surprise. “You mean you’re going to deny your mommy the pleasure of taking care of her baby boy? Why, Kenneth Hutchinson, I’m shocked at you.”

“Well, don’t be. The only reason why I turned down her offer is because if she comes out here, she’s sure to be accompanied by Dad, who will undoubtedly spend the next few weeks trying to convince me to it’s time to stop playing cops and robbers, and come to my senses. I think I’d rather contend with Bertha than put up with that.”

Hutch looked at the cartons in Starsky’s hand and decided to change the subject. “What did Huggy send me this time?”

Starsky unpacked the containers and set up another of Huggy’s specially prepared healthy dinners for Hutch, and another greasy concoction for himself.

“Speaking of our darling Bertha, did she get you again today, partner?” Starsky asked with a taunting grin on his face.

“You know, Starsky, I’m beginning to lose my dignity with that woman coming around every morning…and I use the term ‘woman’ loosely, I might add.”

“Don’t worry, pal. When you get outta here, we’ll go and rough up a couple of suspects, then we’ll spend the evening at a couple of real sleazy strip joints, and you’ll get it all back again.” Starsky teased.

Hutch just laughed and dug into his dinner. Tonight it was grilled chicken breast on a kaiser roll with lettuce, tomato and mustard. It was accompanied by a pickle, coleslaw, two cans of orange Shasta to wash it down, and a healthy slice of Mississippi mud pie for dessert. Starsky, on the other hand got a 12-inch Philadelphia cheese steak hero with onions, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, a mountain of fries on the side, two cans of orange Shasta, and a healthy slice of Mississippi mud pie.

They made casual conversation as they ate. Hutch was explaining his ever-improving prognosis and that he might be going home tomorrow. Starsky told him about the bail hearing for Humphries and Balford that had been set up for tomorrow. He assured Hutch that he would be in court during the hearing and come by to pick him up if he got discharged that same day. Meanwhile, Starsky was busy thinking of how he was going to surprise Hutch with his car if it wasn’t ready in time.

I almost wish Hutch’s discharge was held up a day so the car can be ready before he gets out. Now there’s a selfish thought. I know he wants nothing more then to get out of here. Oh well, I’ll think of something.

They both ate in silence until Hutch noticed Starsky staring out into space.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Starsky snapped his head up. “Huh? Did you say something?”

“Yeah, penny for your thoughts. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Starsky was looking down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with Hutch.

“Nothing? Come on Starsk, you’re in another world.”

Starsky squirmed in his chair, then adjusted himself before finally looking up at Hutch. “You. I’m thinking about you.”

“Me? What about me.”

“I want you to be honest and tell me everything is all right with you, or tell me what else is going on. I mean, you held back on me about your nightmares. Hutch, we don’t keep things like that from each other. Why did you hold out on me? Are you hiding something else?”

It was Hutch’s turn to avoid eye contact with Starsky and squirm a little.

“I…I…Starsk, I just didn’t want you to worry about me anymore. When you told me what you were going through when I disappeared, I thought…. I didn’t want you to worry anymore. So I kept my problems to myself. It’s no big deal, Starsk, they’re just dreams. I can handle them. I had them before, and I’m sure to have them again at some point in my life. You told me how much our friendship meant to you. Well, it means more to me than you can ever know, and I just don’t want you to going around worrying about me all the time. And no, I’m not holding out on anything else.” Hutch held up two fingers “Sea Scouts honor.”

Starsky looked at him and could not help but smile. “Yeah, well, I still can’t understand how you were a sea scout in Duluth.” He then got serious. “Okay, Hutch, I appreciate your concern for me, but I still would feel better if you would just tell me these things when they happen. Okay?”

Hutch produced a small grin. “Okay, I promise.”

The door opened, and in walked Dr. Ellis accompanied by Karen and an orthopedic physician assistant, Margie.

Dr. Ellis extended his hand towards Starsky and both men shook hands. Good evening, Dave, I’m here to examine Mr. Hutchinson’s leg. Now Dave, I will have to insist this time that you sit in the waiting area while we do this.”

Starsky wasn’t going to argue about staying this time. “Would you mind if I waited outside the door? I really would like to know what’s going on. I promise not to look.”

“Sure, Dave. I’ll let you know when we’re done and what we need to do next.”

Starsky left, and the attention of the orthopedic team was now on Hutch.

Dr. Ellis shook Hutch’s hand. “Now, Ken, we’re going to have a look at your leg to see how it’s coming along.

“Okay, doctor. Then what?”

“Let’s just take a look first, then we’ll talk some more. And please, call me John. Okay, Ken?”

“Okay, John, whatever you say.”

Dr. Ellis was a kind man with a happy-go-lucky demeanor, but he was good at what he did. He had an uncanny knack for getting patients to relax in such stressful situations, and Hutch was no exception.

“Why don’t we give you some pain medicine before we start.”

“No, I’ll be okay, John. Really.”

“You’re not just acting brave, are you Ken?”

“No, really, I’ll be okay.”

Hutch was very leery of taking any narcotics due to his past problem with heroin…a past he certainly wasn’t quick to share with anybody.

When the dressing was removed, Dr. Ellis examined the opening he had made in Hutch’s leg and the amount of drainage on the dressing. After his assessment, he smiled and looked up at his patient.

“Well, Ken, I’m very pleased with the way things are looking. The drainage is minimal, the swelling in your leg has gone down and there is no sign of infection.”

A grateful smile streamed across Hutch’s face. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks, John. So, what’s next?”

“What do you say we sew the rest of this up and put you in a cast? We can have you up on crutches tomorrow morning and on your way home by the evening.”

Hutch’s smile widened at the news. “I say, let’s do it.”

Dr. Ellis poked his head into the hallway. Starsky was leaning against the wall reading an arthritis pamphlet he’d found on the ledge of the nursing station. As soon a he spotted Dr. Ellis, he stood up, quickly folded the pamphlet and stuffed it into his back pocket.

“Hey, John, what’s the verdict?”

“Well, Dave, I’m very pleased with the progress your friend has made. We’re going to close up the incision then cast him. I would like to send him home by tomorrow evening.”

“That’s great, doc! That’s the best news I heard in weeks!”

“Well, Dave, why don’t you sit in the waiting area, and we’ll call you when we’re done.”

On his way to the waiting area, Starsky strolled by the nurses’ station and snatched a pamphlet about cholesterol and high blood pressure. He figured he was going to need reading material to pass the time…besides, it was free.

An hour and a half later, Dr. Ellis came out to inform him the casting was completed and he could return to his partner’s room. Starsky thanked him and proceeded to his friend’s bedside once again. Starsky walked into the room and eyed the cast that went from Hutch’s toes all the way up to his thigh.

“Hey Hutch, I don’t get it. You only fractured the lower leg, why did they extend the cast all the way up the entire leg?”

“To prevent me from bending my knee which would cause the bones to shift out of place. Hopefully, in three weeks they should’ve have healed enough for them to change it to a short leg cast, one that goes below the knee. He also said if I progress well enough and if I stay off of it, they may be able to let me walk on it by then.”

“Well, Blondie, in that case I better not see you trying to walk around in that cast until the doctor says you can. Do I make myself clear, buddy boy?”

Hutch just looked at Starsky. “Maybe I should have Mom and Dad come out here. They won’t nag me as much.”

“Yeah, but will they bring you a new issue of Hustler?” Starsky teased.

“Are you kidding? They wouldn’t even bring me new issues of my movie magazine. I’d have to spend the next six weeks reading nothing but Newsweek, The Wall Street Journal, Weekly Fortune, and Business World. My father would spend what time he could trying to convert me into some stuffy business tycoon like himself, since I wouldn’t be able to escape.”

“Wow, Hutch, that kinda reminds me of that movie, Invasion Of The Body Snatchers.

**********************

That evening was very similar to the last few evenings they had spent together in that hospital room. Starsky told him about his day’s events, including snatching Dobey’s candy bar, netting a hardy laugh from Hutch. They played cards, and completed the New York Times Crossword puzzle in pen.

Dobey and Huggy eventually came by and spent a while chatting casually about various tid-bits. They talked about how the L.A Dodgers were doing that year and about how glad they were the Vietnam war was finally over. Dobey griped about his plumber wanting to replace just about every plumbing device and pipe in the house. Huggy mentioned that Jimmy Carter was going to pre-empt every good show that night for an hour so he could put on yet another one of his presidential speeches. This didn’t please Starsky, since he knew Hutch was going to make him watch it with him. Each one of them took turns writing their name along with get well wishes on Hutch’s plaster cast. Starsky, of course, couldn’t help but scribble some obscene remark on it, getting a laugh from everyone in the room.

It was about 7:30 p.m. when Dobey and Huggy wished the two good night and took their leave.

Starsky and Hutch watched the presidential speech, much to Starsky’s dismay. He would have much rather watched a ballgame or monster movie, but this was nearly enough to put him to sleep.

Starsky excused himself, telling Hutch he wanted to run down to the cafeteria for coffee. He found a public phone and placed a call to Merle.

“Merle, this is Starsky. How’s the car coming along?”

“Starsky, I put a team of my best men on that car. They’ve been slaving all day long, and they’re still not done. I don’t think the it will be ready by tomorrow.”

“Com’on, Merle, you practically have the whole day tomorrow to get that thing ready. Hutch won’t be getting out until late afternoon. Can’t you get your guys to finish up by then?”

“I told you before, don’t expect no miracles. I will do only what I can do. Call me tomorrow.”

“Please, Merle, just try your best for me, huh.” Starsky hung up the phone. Jeez, now I know what it’s like to play Beat The Clock.

Starsky walked out of the hospital and made his way across the street to a 7-11 and bought four bottles of beer. He concealed them inside his jacket, then made his way back to the hospital and up to Hutch’s room. He couldn’t get out of the hall and into the room quick enough. Hutch took one look at him and knew something was up.

“Starsky, you look like the cat who ate the canary. What gives?”

Starsky made his way up to the bed. “Oh nothing, partner, I just thought now that you’re out of the woods, you might like to indulge a little.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a beer, handing it to a pleasantly surprised Hutch. He’d been wanting one badly for over a week.

“Thanks, buddy! Just don’t let anybody see you with these.” Hutch stated as he tried to remove the cap before realizing it was a pop top bottle and not a twist off. He frowned at the bottle. Starsky reached into his pocket, pulled out his Swiss army knife, flipped up the bottle opener and opened both bottles.

Hutch drank half of his in one gulp. It tasted so good to him. It had been a while since he had a beer. Starsky nursed his.

They talked and watched the baseball game. In the meantime, Hutch finished his beer along with the other two, and much to Starsky’s amusement, developed a nice buzz.

Hutch put his hands to his head and slurred, “Wow! I didn’t ththink thossse ththrree could do thisss to me.”

Starsky laughed at him. “Good thing they didn’t want you trying out your crutches tonight, you’da been back in here with another cast on.”

Just then, the door swung open and Bertha stealthily walked in and up to Hutch’s bed. Luckily Starsky had hidden all the empty beer bottles in the bathroom earlier for just this reason.

“Mr. Hutchinson, I’m here to check your vitals.” This was a usual routine that took place every four hours of the day and night. She checked his blood pressure, pulse and temperature as Hutch tried to conceal the fact he was on his way to being totally drunk. She smelled the alcohol emanating from her patient and gave him a stern look. “Mr. Hutchinson, were you drinking?”

Hutch smiled then took hold of Bertha’s hand between his own two. He seductively peered into her eyes with a romantic bloodshot gaze. He pulled her reluctant body closer to his and spoke in the sexiest voice he could find under the circumstances.

“All I’ve been drinking is the vision of your loveliness, my darling. Why don’t you uh…stick around and we can get to know each other better?”

Bertha jerked her hand away from his, straightened her body and placed both hands on her hips. “Mr. Hutchinson,” she stated firmly, “I don’t know where you think you are or what you think you’re trying to prove, but for your information, this is a hospital. We conduct ourselves like professionals, and we expect our patients to maintain a certain sense of decorum. Now, you say good night to your friend and tell him to leave. I’ll be back in the morning for your bath.”

As she turned to walk away, Hutch’s face broke out into a broad smile and he stated loudly, “Okay, whatever you say, baby.” Then before Starsky could stop him, Hutch brought back his arm and gave a Bertha a very healthy smack on her rear end.

In one smooth, reflexive motion, Bertha swung back around and returned the smack to Hutch’s left cheek. “One more move like that, and I’ll have you restrained!” With that said, she turned and marched out of the room.

Hutch sat with a dumbfounded look on his face and rubbed his now reddened cheek..

Starsky was nearly on the floor laughing out of control at the scene that had just taken place. It took several moments for him to regain his composure and speak again. “Looks like Romeo strikes out again.”

“Wow! That woman needs to lighten up a bit. Don’t you think so, Starsk?”

Starsky wiped the tears from his eyes. “I just think you need to get some sleep, pal.”

It was apparent the booze was causing Hutch to lose his battle with consciousness. Nevertheless, he objected. “Oh no, no I’m all right re…uh…reeeally. Put the TV back on. I wanna watch the news, Starsk.”

“Hutch, you’re gonna pass out in about two minutes, I can tell.”

“No, I won’t. Come on, Starsk, I wanna see the news.”

Starsky just shrugged and gave in. Hutch wasn’t going anywhere anyway, so there was no point in arguing. He turned on the news, took a seat, propped his feet up on the bed and stared at the TV. As he predicted, Hutch was asleep within minutes. He decided to stick around for a while just to make sure he would be all right.

The news ended, and Starsky watched an old Star Trek rerun that followed. He jumped up when Hutch began to thrash around in the bed. Hutch was also moaning this time. Starsky noticed he wasn’t screaming out like last night, but he was still sure Hutch was having another nightmare. He sat on the edge of the bed then grabbed Hutch’s shoulder and began shaking him.

“Hutch! Wake up! You’re having another nightmare. Come on, buddy wake up, open your eyes!”

Hutch continued thrashing and moaning. He tried to knock Starsky’s hands from their grip around his shoulder. Starsky was positive the beers were making it harder to arouse him from his sleep. He regretted ever bringing them in the first place.

“Hutch! It’s me. It’s Starsky, wake up!”

Hutch’s eyes opened, but he continued thrashing and moaning and trying to sit up as he continued to push his friend away from him. Starsky was trying to get Hutch to relax and quit trying to fight him off when Hutch finally lurched forward and threw up onto Starsky’s shirt. Hutch then fell back into his pillow relieved. He was breathing heavily, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Starsky froze in shock.

After taking a moment to absorb what had just happened, he slowly stood up, unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. He rolled it into a ball and threw it into the trash can in the bathroom.

He returned and sat down on the edge of the bed, then pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, using it to wipe Hutch’s mouth and chin..

“I’m sorry, Starsk. I kept trying to push you away.”

“It’s okay. I thought you were having another nightmare. I was trying to wake you up.”

“A nightmare? Oh no, I was having the spins from those beers, they made me nauseous. I was trying to push you away so I could grab the basin off the night table. I didn’t think just three would do this to me. I guess it mixed with all that medication they keep pumping into me.”

“Oh…I guess I had it coming then, huh?” Starsky could see Hutch’s eyelids growing heavy. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow with your breakfast and then in the evening to pick you up. Okay?”

Hutch spoke barely above a whisper. “Okay, Starsky. G’night buddy.”

“Night, pal.” Starsky straightened the blankets over his friend then put his jacket over his bare chest, zipped it up and slowly made his way out of the room.

**********************

Starsky sat along with Dobey and district attorney, Ben Stone, waiting for the bail hearing against Balford and Humphries to begin. It was originally scheduled for 2:00 p.m., but it was now 2:30 p.m., and there was one more case to be heard before theirs.

Starsky excused himself, telling Dobey he would be in the main lobby making a phone call and to get him when the case was called. He made his way to the public phone booth and dialed Merle’s number. “Merle, what’s the word on the car?”

“Starsky!” Merle started with frustration in his voice. “There is just no way that car’s gonna be ready by today! We’ve been working on it all day and it ain’t near ready. It’s gonna take at least another day, maybe two.”

“TWO DAYS!” Starsky said louder than he intended. Slightly embarrassed, he quickly scanned the lobby to see how many folks may have heard.

“Starsky, some folks expect me to pull a rabbit out of my hat. You want me to part the Red Sea!”

“Can’t you at least try?” Starsky pleaded.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. I have parts on order that won’t even get here until after four o’clock and then it’ll take at least an hour to install each of them. And my guys quit at six o’clock, sharp.”

“Damn!” Starsky exclaimed. “All right, all right. Hey, listen Merle, thanks for trying, okay? I know you tried to do this for me, and I appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Starsky, but it just couldn’t be done.”

“Thanks anyway, Merle, and just call me when it’s finished, okay?”

“Will do.”

Starsky hung up the phone and just stood there, feeling disappointed. After a few moments, he dug into his pocket, pulled out a dime, deposited it into the phone and called Hutch’s room number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Hutch, it’s me. Just calling to see how things went. Did you get your crutches?”

“Not yet. The orthopedic team will be tied up in the clinic for most of the afternoon, so physical therapy is going to come by to measure and show me how to use them. I should be released about 5 o’clock this evening.”

“Okay, hopefully the case should be starting soon, and I’ll be there to pick you up.” Starsky smiled. ” By the way, how’s your head this morning, Don Juan?”

“It’s not my head that I was worried about. It was waiting for Bertha that scared me the most. She was even less gentle this morning, and boy, did she have some attitude.”

Starsky laughed. “Well, next time I’m bringing you nothing stronger than carrot juice. You’re trouble when you’ve had a few.”

Starsky looked down the hall where Captain Dobey was poking his head out of the courtroom door motioning to him. Their case was being called.

“Oh Hutch, they’re gonna begin the hearing. I’ll come by to get you when we’re done.”

Starsky hung the phone up and swiftly made his way to the courtroom.

**********************

During the pre-trial hearing, the judge heard Starsky’s, Humphries’, and Balford’s account of the events that took place, from before the disappearance of Hutch, up until the time Starsky found him in the canyon.

Each one’s account was totally different than the others’.

Going over the evidence, the judge believed Starsky’s account held more validity than the other two whose stories did nothing more than point the finger at each other. However, he decided instead of holding them without bail, he would release Humphries on $150,000 bond, and Balford would be released on a $200,000 bond. His license to practice law would also be suspended pending the outcome of the trial. Balford tried to argue the judge’s decision and was slapped with an additional $3,000 contempt of court fine. Both men were led away to jail in handcuffs.

**********************

The pre-trial went a lot quicker than Starsky thought it would. This left him with enough time to rush home and change out of his suit and tie and into his jeans. How he hated ties.

***********************

His current problem was that the car he’d bought for Hutch was not ready to be presented to him. He actually had planned to pick him up at the hospital in it, thinking it would really brighten his day. Well those plans are shot to hell, he thought. He was driving towards the hospital when the idea hit him.

He turned the car around and headed towards Merle’s Body and Fender.

**********************

Starsky walked up to Merle who was busy under the hood of Hutch’s car-to-be and tapped him on the shoulder.

Merle, startled, jumped up and spun around to see Starsky standing next to him. “Starsky, I TOLD YOU, the car ain’t near ready, and it ain’t gonna be ready for another two days! You coming in here ain’t gonna make things move along any faster.”

“I know that, Merle, but I need you to do me one other favor.”

“Oh no, Starsky, please don’t tell me you have another car for me. Please, don’t tell me that.” Merle pleaded.

“No, that’s not it. I need you to have this car brought to the hospital for me.”

“WHAT?! I THOUGHT you were out your mind before when you asked me to fix this hunk of junk up, now I KNOW you’re totally out of it, man!”

“Merle, listen to me, I know this car doesn’t run yet, but I really want to surprise Hutch with it. Can’t you just have it towed there, just for Hutch to see it then you can have it towed right back here? Please, Merle. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t that important. Come on, what do ya say, huh?”

Merle just looked at him long and hard with a look of disbelief before he finally uttered a word. “Well it’s your money, my man. You spend it any way you like. You want it towed to the hospital, I’ll tow it to the hospital. I’ll tow it all the way to Vermont, if you want. Gimmee the dough, and away we go.”

“Hey, thanks a bunch, Merle. Hutch goes home at 5:00 this evening. Can you have it there before then?”

“Like I said, it’s your money.”

“That’s great. I gotta go. I’ll settle up with you later.” With that, Starsky turned and was headed out the garage door when he heard Merle yelling to him from behind.

“I don’t know why you want to tow this thing to the hospital. Ain’t no use. You ought to have this thing towed to the graveyard, if you get my meaning!”

Starsky couldn’t help but laugh at that comment.

At four thirty that evening, Starsky pulled into the hospital parking lot to see the old LTD sitting right near the entrance doors.

Starsky walked up to the car and began circling around it, smiling at the close similarity it had to the previous Hutchmobile. When he made his way towards the back, he leaned over and using his finger, wrote in the dirt of the rear window, ‘condemned, 1847.’ He laughed to himself and began making his way towards the hospital. He took a few steps then stopped, did an about-face and made his way back towards the car. He opened the driver’s side door, crouched down, reached under the dashboard and began fiddling with a few of the wires. After about five minutes, he got up, closed the door and made his way to Hutch’s room.

When he opened the door to his partner’s room, he found Hutch in almost a wrestling match with Bertha. He was sitting up in his bed with no gown. His blankets were the only garments he was wearing at the moment, and he wasn’t about to give them up.

“Bertha!” Hutch moaned as he was trying to grab his shirt from her tight grip and push her away at the same time, “I can do this myself. I only have a broken leg, I’m not paralyzed, ya know.”

Bertha was holding on to the garment and successfully managing to hold off her struggling patient by literally keeping him at arm’s length. Her hand was on his shoulder, pushing him away from her, and since her arms were a few inches longer than his, he couldn’t reach her or the shirt.

“Mr. Hutchinson, I was sent in here to make sure you were ready for your discharge, and that’s what I’m going to do. Now, quit fighting me so I can get you dressed.”

Hutch turned to see his amused partner standing at the door smirking.

“Starsky, ” he said with a mixture of exasperation and desperation, “get her away from me before I arrest her for assault.”

Starsky finally walked up to Bertha and took the shirt out of her hand. “Bertha, I think my partner’s dignity has been compromised enough. Let the guy keep what little he has left. Okay?” he said only half serious.

She sneered up at Starsky. She did not like it when anyone interfered with her work, especially outsiders. “Fine, but I’ll be back in 15 minutes to make sure he’s ready to go.”

With that said, she turned and walked out of the room. Starsky tossed the shirt along with the rest of Hutch’s clothing onto his bed.

Hutch grabbed it and began dressing. “Thanks, partner. I swear that woman has it in for me. I really believe she thoroughly enjoyed torturing me. I’ll be happy to put plenty of distance between her and I.”

“I don’t know, partner, I thought you were actually enjoying it.”

Hutch glared at him. “In her dreams, partner. I just think it’s about time I finally won a battle with that woman.”

Starsky laughed. “Hey, listen, I have to go talk with your doctor to get all the info you’re gonna need. I’ll be back in a few.”

“I’ll be here.”

Hutch finished pulling on his black turtleneck shirt, then reached for his boxers. It was then he made the grim discovery he couldn’t bend his casted leg in order to dress himself. He made several attempts at getting the boxers over his foot but they were all without success. He laid his head back against his pillow and sighed. “Damn,” he thought out loud. “I don’t believe this.” He lay there for a few moments, cussing under his breath before hesitantly lifting the nurse call pad and pushing the button. A few seconds later the door opened and Bertha slowly walked in and made her way towards the bed.

She stood there with hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. “Having a bit of trouble, Mr. Hutchinson?”

“Uhhhh, yes ma’am. It seems I can’t get my, uh, ummm, my uh, boxers on. I can’t bend my knee.”

“That’s why I was in here in the first place. Now, are you going to let me finish what I originally came to do earlier, or are we going to tangle some more?”

“Uh, no ma’am, I mean yes ma’am. I mean, uhh, what I mean is, I’ll cooperate.” Hutch said in a defeated voice.

Bertha grabbed the boxers out of Hutch’s hand and pulled away the blankets and with a stern down-to-business demeanor, slipped the shorts onto her patient. When she had them half way up his legs, he grabbed the waistband, and wasting no time, pulled them up around his hips.

Next, she took his jeans and looked at them.

“These won’t fit over that cast. I’ll have to take out the seam of this one leg.”

Before Hutch could object, Bertha, grabbed the bottom of the left pant leg with her bare hands and pulled at the seam until it tore apart. She split them almost all the way up to the hip then slipped them onto Hutch’s leg. He grabbed them by the belt loops and quickly pulled them up around his hips, buttoned and zipped the fly.

“Ill be back with your wheelchair, Mr. Hutchinson. When you’re in it, I’ll help you with your sock and shoe.”

As she was leaving the room, Starsky opened the door and walked right smack into her. He bounced off her and stumbled back a few feet.

Bertha did not move at all. “You need to watch where you’re going, mister. You’re gonna get yourself hurt one of these days.”

Starsky regained his composure and stared at her. He walked around her towards his partner and mumbled, “And you’re gonna really hurt someone one of these days, lady.”

He walked up to Hutch’s bed with a confused look on his face. “Hey, I thought we got rid of her. What was she doing back in here?”

Hutch just looked up at him a bit embarrassed. “I uh, had a little trouble getting dressed after all. I can’t bend my knee with this cast on. I actually had to call her back to help me out.”

Starsky smirked. “Well, Hutch, at least she was able to get one more good look at ya before you leave this joint.”

“Oh, why don’t you fly a kite?”

“How about I just give you your shoes?” Starsky said as he handed Hutch his right shoe along with a sock.

By the time Bertha returned with his wheelchair, Hutch was more than ready to get in it and get out of that hospital. After she placed it next to his bed, Hutch eagerly got out of the bed using his crutches and plopped down into the chair.

“Do you have everything, Mr. Hutchinson? Make sure you didn’t leave anything behind.”

“I have everything, thank you.”

“Did you sign your discharge papers and receive all of your discharge instructions?”

Starsky waved the papers in his hand. “I have them all right here. I signed all the papers for him. We’re ready to blow this joint.”

Bertha wheeled the chair to the exit near the parking lot. “Here you go, Mr. Hutchinson.”

Starsky spoke up. “Why don’t you just let me wheel him to the car. He may still be a little unsteady on those crutches. You wouldn’t want him falling in the parking lot and hurting himself all over again, would you?”

“Suit yourself.” Bertha turned and walked back towards the patient care area, then Starsky got behind the wheelchair and pushed his partner out to the parking lot.

Hutch looked up at Starsky. “So, how did the trial go?”

“Well, all Balford and Humphries did was try to place the blame on each other and take it off of themselves. The judge didn’t seem to buy any of it. He set Humphries’ bail at a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Hutch whistled. “What about his lawyer, the smiling barracuda?”

“Balford? He ain’t smiling no more. Not after the bail the judge set on him.”

Hutch laughed in delight at the news. “It’s too bad, he’s one of my favorite people,” he said sarcastically.

Starsky continued pushing Hutch towards the Torino, but when he approached it, to Hutch’s surprise, he went right by it.

Hutch spoke up, flipping his thumb back towards the Torino, “Hey, uh, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you for a little stroll.”

“What? What for?”

“Surprise, surprise.”

Hutch spoke up. “What for?!”

“I want you to take a peek at your new wheels.”

“Oh, Starsky, you know I love you, but ou-ou our taste in wheels don’t exactly match.”

“I know. Mine’s better.”

Starsky finally stopped the wheelchair in front of ‘the car’. Hutch froze at the sight. His reincarnated LTD stood right before his very eyes.

Starsky put on his best W.C. Fields/salesman pitch. “Yes, sir, you’re going to love this little buggy, a genuine Hutchinson original. Or, should I say, a replica of the same. Complete with the same dents and dings and putrefied upholstery, not to mention an added extra which I’m gonna throw in ’cause I like your face….”

Hutch, using his crutches, swiftly hoisted himself out of his chair without taking his eyes off the car.

Starsky opened the driver’s side car door and the horn started blaring away.

Hutch hobbled up to his car with an annoyed look on his face, then using one of his crutches, he pushed the door shut, disabling the loud horn.

Starsky was staring at the car, and sounded almost surprised and a bit disappointed, “What’sa matter? Don’t you like it?”

Hutch looked grimly at the car as he adjusted his balance. Finally, after a few moments, he spoke with sentiment. “Starsky.” He paused and licked his lips. “It’s beautiful!” He looked at his partner, smiling and nodding his head. “It’s just beautiful.”

Starsky expressed a look of disappointment. After all, even with all the work Merle put into it, in his eyes, it still looked like crap. “That’s what I thought you were gonna say.”

Hutch straightened up and held his crutches out to his side and smiled broadly. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

He hobbled up to his partner, threw his crutches down, grabbed him in a bear hug and planted a big kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, buddy. This is just about the best thing anyone has ever done for me. You’re the best, you’re truly the best.”

THE END