Nothing Else Matters

Pony’s title challenge. Starsky angst.

There are ten million ways to die out here on the streets. There’s a lot of cruelty, and it is no surprise when too many weeks go by seeing so many people you’re trying to help; ending up dead. Sometimes I think this city bleeds red. Even something as beautiful as the sunset can remind you of blood. Things here can get bad fast, and you can find yourself in hot water before you can say, ‘Mother, may I?’ Triggers are squeezed without thought. And the headlines always seem to be full of talk about how it’s only a matter of time before we blow ourselves to hell. Still, we cling to hope, and it’s up to us to find a way to make it work.

I was raised with the concept that when you help other people you help yourself. Take me and Hutch. We help each other through it all and sometimes we don’t know we’re doing it. We’ve been together so long we don’t even discuss the way something is going to go down. We just think it and it sorta’ happens.

Keeps you from hesitating. Doing what you know you have to do. Running down endless dark gaps between buildings. Sloshing knee deep through a muddy field to get to the next dead body. Fighting to keep your blood from turning into pools of ice when a bullet skims too close. It’s not a job–it’s a lifestyle, and you’re either in or you’re out. Having a good partner like Hutch by your side can keep you in. Save your life. Or it keeps you from choking on fear when some kid jump’s off the ledge you just spent the last three and a half hours standing on, trying to talk him off of it.

I was on that ledge, right next to him. Almost thought I had him talked out of it when he decided to jump. I just about caught his hand, but I missed. Watched him fall until his head exploded onto the pavement like a water balloon full of ketchup. Having a good partner to lean on and talk you back off that ledge, back to the ground beneath your feet, and back from the brink of insanity, is far better protection, than strapping a gun to your side.

“Hey, Starsk.” Hutch leaned over the waist high wall, reaching a hand out to me, he knew where my mind had strayed. “You didn’t kill him.” I heard him say. Straining my eyes, I looked down at the body, unable to answer.

My left hand grabbed at the bricks behind me, but there was nothing to hold on to. My right hand was closed fisted stretched out in front of me. It took a minute for me to understand what just happened. A sick feeling bubbled in my throat. The ground seemed to beckon me. I teetered, but then froze, told myself not to move. Told myself it wasn’t my fault. Told myself I should have known it would go down this way.

“I…I–“I hunched my shoulders, and eased my position back against the wall, letting my closed fist open, and fall to my side.

“Starsky, you didn’t kill him, did you.” It really wasn’t a question. I could hear the conviction in Hutch’s voice, telling me what we both already knew.

My knees began to shake, and I took a small swallow feeling something almost electric shoot up my spine raising every hair on my body.

I straightened, and half turned to look up at Hutch. “No.” His hard eyed stare telling me to be careful.

“Come on, partner,” Hutch said, in a friendly and soft voice. “Come.” He slowly reached his hand out toward me. “Come easy.” I hesitated. Afraid to move. I was shaking so bad. It was cold. I was cold. One slip and I’d plunge to the pavement to. “He was too far gone, buddy. No one could help him. You tried, Starsky. Give me your hand.” The request was clear and strong. I gasped feeling faint, but lifted my hand toward Hutch. He grasped it with a firm slap, and held tight, as he hauled me back up over the ledge to the rooftop next to him. I tried to convince myself I was fine, but I gasped again feeling as though a knife had stabbed me in the belly. I fell against Hutch. “Easy, now,” he said, fiercely dragging me against him.

“I…” my voice was so weak. I tried to take inventory of my legs but couldn’t feel them. Hutch was the only thing keeping me standing.

Like I said earlier there are ten million ways a person can die out here and you’re either in or you’re out. I chose the career in the toilet. I wanted and still want to change the world even if the world does not want changing. I grew up watching my dad do it. Stood in his shadow in awe. I wanted it. All of it. Sometimes this job can strip you down to nothing. You can’t just go home and put all the bad stuff on a shelf, never to be seen again. It becomes a part of you. Like a scar endlessly winding it’s way through your soul. Like the kid. He had to only have been sixteen. My mind knows I didn’t kill him. He jumped. But my heart feels like I had my thumb on the hammer, ready to fire.

“Hutch…..”

“I know, partner.” Gently Hutch gripped my shoulder. “There wasn’t anything you could do.” He turned his eyes on me. They were full of concern and care. Hutch was right. There was nothing I could do. Hutch knew I was hurting, but also knew, same as me, there were some things better left alone. We said nothing more about it, paused in silence. I felt the roof tilt, and I slipped closer to Hutch trying to catch my breath. I could feel Hutch measuring me. His hand on my shoulder moved to extend across my back. He sparred a few moments to rub gently, then gave me a hearty pat breaking the silence. “Going my way?” Hutch nudged his head toward the exit.

“Why not.” I tried to make my voice sound cheerful, but it fell short.

Hutch eyed the long walk back across the roof to the doorway that would lead us down the stairs to his car. I was glad he had the good sense to keep his arm wrapped around my waist; in perfect position, making sure there was no chance I would fall to my quivering knees.

“We’re off duty,” Hutch announced as we slowly walked side by side. “How about a beer, huh?” A flicker of a smile showed in Hutch’s eyes.

“For you or for me?” I tried to grin.

“Both, dummy,” Hutch said, now carefully leading me down the stairs.

“Make it a lot of beer, huh, partner?” I tucked my head to his shoulder, allowing Hutch the final task of getting me where I needed to get emotionally as well as physically.

Yes, this job takes you to places you never wanted to go. Chill’s you like a cold wind. Scatter’s bits of your heart until they lay stagnant in a swamp of rotting flesh. It is like falling straight into hell and fighting with the devil. But the cold concrete truth of it all is; as long as I have Hutch by my side, nothing else matters.