Why Didn’t I Drive that Day?

Hutch tells a therapist his thoughts about “That Miserable Day in May.” This story is a sequel to That Miserable Day in May.

Why didn’t I drive that day? If I had driven, I would have been on that side of the car. He would have been safe… so many “what ifs” from that miserable day in May.

I don’t even know why I’m here. I don’t need a shrink.

“Then why ARE you here, Ken?”

I didn’t want to see the department shrink — and I knew Starsky has been coming to see you, so…

Anyway…

Things were slow at the station that day. They were painting and we were just messing around. Dobey was hanging over us — wondering what we were up to… so I guess we decided it was time to hit the streets. We headed out to the parking lot — Starsk was teasing me about losing our ping-pong game and I was razzing him about what a three-course meal meant to me — burger, fries, and a shake.

“Ken, is that normal banter for you and David?”

Yeah, we’re always hassling each other. It doesn’t mean anything. I lo… I…

Any… anyway, we, uh… went into the parking lot and I was a little annoyed that it was taking him so long to get the car door open because he was gabbing about how much he was going to set me back for dinner. I… I was kind of irritated. Not really mad. He doesn’t really make me mad — ever. Aggravated at best — but not really angry.

I was jerking on the door handle and saying, “c’mon open up” when I heard what sounded like metal twisting. I looked up and saw a cruiser coming out of a parking space and he’d kind of cut it short and ripped into the bumper of the car sitting next to him. I thought it was kind of weird that he didn’t stop — he just kept coming toward us. Then I saw it.

“What did you see, Ken?”

There was a bright glare coming from the passenger-side window of the cruiser. I thought it was kind of strange, because the window was down and I couldn’t tell what it was the sun was shining off of. Just a split second later — I did see it. It was the rifle.

<Cough>

Could I have a drink of water please?

“Certainly.”

My mouth’s a little dry.

<Hhump, cough>

<Sigh>

“Are you okay?”

Yeah… it’s still hard to talk about.

I yelled at Starsky to get down, but he turned toward the cruiser and started to pull his weapon. I hit the ground — and just a second later I heard the rifle. And about the same time — I think I heard him scream out my name.

… sounded like the shooter squeezed off maybe a dozen or so rounds. I jumped up and pulled my weapon and started firing at the cruiser as it drove away. I kept screaming for Starsky. I couldn’t see him.

Oh God.

“You want to stop for a while, Ken?”

I was hoping… praying he’d just dropped and maybe messed up his knee or something… and was having trouble getting up. Once the cruiser was out of sight I turned to look for him again. I ran around to the front of the car and…

Oh God.

He was lying on the ground next to the car — his head in the rear wheel well. I… I froze. I couldn’t move.

“What did you see?”

He was wearing a white shirt under his jacket that day and there was a rapidly growing red stain across his chest and stomach.

“Ken…”

When I was finally able to move and I ran to him and dropped to the ground beside him. He was struggling so hard to breathe. He was barely conscious. Even though his eyes were barely opened, there was so much fear — pure terror in his eyes.

“What happened then?”

I lifted his head into my lap. I wanted him to know I was there. I needed him to know that I was there with him. God, there was so much blood. He opened his mouth. Like he wanted to say something… and all that came out was more blood. He looked so frightened. He couldn’t talk.

Funny thing is — most of the time we speak in shorthand anyway and sometimes when we’re working — not at all. We just know what the other is thinking. I wanted so much to hear his voice at that moment. I kept thinking if I could just hear his voice that everything would be okay. But, he couldn’t talk. He was breathing so hard. Every breath was so painful — so difficult. I think that’s when I knew how bad it was — when he couldn’t breathe.

“What else was going on, Ken?”

It’s all kind of a blur. I remember hearing shouting… other officers coming toward us. Someone shouted, ‘get an ambulance — hurry!’ I’m not sure who it was. I looked up and we were surrounded by officers — mostly uniforms. They all looked as shocked as I’m sure I did.

I didn’t know what to do. All I did was hold him.

“Well, at that moment, David probably needed that more than anything else.”

Bullshit!!! He needed help!!!!

<Deep, gulping breath>

Uh… I-I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to…

“There’s no need to apologize.”

The other cops just stood there stunned — talking among themselves. They didn’t know what to do, either. All I could do was hold him. I reached down and tried to wipe some of the blood away from his mouth. God, there was — s-so much bl-blood. It sounded like he was drowning. I think that’s when I first knew that one of the bullets had hit one of his lungs. I squeezed his hand and begged him to hang on. I told him that help was coming. That I was there…

I looked up and our captain was standing there — kind of dumbfounded. He too was pleading with Starsky to hang on. I felt so damned useless and helpless.

Then a really amazing thing happened. I heard a voice saying, ‘Hutch, he’s getting shocky.’ It was Bernie… Bernie’s an older uniformed officer. He’s a good guy. He’s done some amazing… some courageous things for Starsky and me. He started applying some pressure to the wounds and trying to do what I couldn’t. Bernie was holding it together for everyone. He was doing what needed to be done.

God bless Bernie.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear… in Starsky’s ear. I begged him to please hang on. Please don’t die.

<Sobs>

“Ken, why are you crying? It’s important for you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

He’d opened his eyes a little wider. He wanted so much to talk — to tell me something. All I saw was fear. Fear and love… then tears. A tear rolled down his cheek. I think he was trying to say goodbye. Then amazingly, he gave my hand a squeeze — not a very strong one, but it was a squeeze. And I told him to ‘fight — fight dammit!’

I could hear the ambulance coming. I saw his mouth form a few silent words. His eyes closed… he… I thought he was…

I need to stop for a few minutes. P-please.

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

I think I’m ready to continue now. Thanks for the break.

“Ken, what did David say to you before he lost consciousness?”

He… uh… he… his mouth formed the words, ‘I l-love you.’

I think he thought that was the last time he’d ever see me again.

“Go on…”

Before the paramedics moved in to take over, I leaned down and whispered one more time. I told him that I loved him, too — to please hold on. ‘I can’t do this without you.’ He was so still after that. I was afraid he was gone.

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

I don’t remember much about the ride in the ambulance. I remember the paramedics were really working hard… I think they were really scared they were going to lose him.

So was I.

So damned much blood.

I know he must have completely bled out between the time he was shot and the time they got him to the hospital. If it weren’t for the transfusions, and the fact that the paramedics got there pretty quickly, I’m sure he would have bled to death.

I wanted to hold him, but they made me stay back while they worked. They were right, of course. They needed their space. They were trying to save his life.

It seemed to take forever to get to the hospital — then the waiting while they operated. Did I tell you he was in surgery for over six hours? Someone would come out every now and then and update us — tell us that he was still alive… tell us how bad it was. At one point, one of the surgeons came out — there were four of them working on him — anyway, he came out and he looked pretty rough. He shook his head and said he’d never seen that much damage done to a human being. Then he went back in and worked some more.

I didn’t get to see Starsky again for about eight hours — and then it was through a glass window once they’d moved him to intensive care.

Captain Dobey was there, and a friend of ours named Huggy.

“Yes, David’s spoken very fondly of your captain and of your friend Huggy.”

They kept saying that there was a chance that he would make it. I kept saying, ‘He’s dying.’

I guess if I have any regrets about anything during the whole ordeal — it was that. I think I’d given up on him. What the hell kind of friend is that?

“A realistic one… I’ve talked with David’s doctors — for all intents and purposes he should have died. They don’t know how he survived. One of them told me, ‘he must be tenacious son-of-a-bitch — he wasn’t ready and by God, he wasn’t going to go.’ “

<Brief, mutual chuckles, followed by solemnity>

I wish I’d been more loyal in that respect.

“Ken you’re loyal where it counts.”

“Tell me about intensive care.”

The first time I went into his room was when the doctor told us he was in a coma. I remember not really believing him.

“Denial…”

Yeah, I-I guess. I went into the room and just sat there next to his bed. I was overwhelmed by all of the machines and tubes that were being used to keep him alive. He looked so fragile. Starsky’s such a vivid spirit — always in perpetual motion. To see him lying there, so still… it was overwhelming to say the least.

I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. Like I thought he would break.

I wanted to stay with him… but I also knew that I couldn’t. I needed to find the son-of-a-bitch responsible for…

Dobey didn’t want me to go… Huggy didn’t want me to go… but I knew that I had to find them… well, now we know — him…

“And you found the responsible party Ken… and he’s in prison and will never get out again.”

James Marshall — Fucking — Gunther. Prison is not good enough. I want him dead. I want to execute the bastard myself.

“Ken… as normal as your feelings are… I don’t think you really mean that…”

Oh, yes I do. I wish when he’d pulled that gun on me in his office — that I would have fired. It would have been justifiable. Doctor, no matter how much time he serves… it will never be even. My partner has been through hell. His recovery has been long, painful; lonely… no one deserves that — especially someone who is as good as David.

“I know you’re angry — but as angry as you are — you can’t possibly tell me that it overshadows the sheer joy you felt when David awoke from his coma. It’s okay to be angry, Ken… but you have to weigh that anger against the overall outcome. David is alive.”

Why the hell didn’t I drive that day!!!???

“Call it karma, Ken, or call it just dumb luck — but you didn’t drive that day — because David needed you. David is here today because of your devotion, your loyalty, and your love. That is why you didn’t drive that day.”