Quiet Time Revelations

Hutch thinks about the changes in his life.

Sometimes he thought things couldn’t get any worse, and then something else happened. Another crisis of duty or love would test his strength again.

When he really thought about it, it came down to one or the other—duty or love. It seemed his life revolved around the two. It had been a long time since he had felt he had any control over his life, any choices to make. That, of course, was both good and bad.

The good part was that he had finally found a place to belong, a sense of fulfillment, both on the job and off.

Maturity had brought a new way of looking at the job. Although frustration was often still there, it didn’t rankle as much, as he found that a more calculated, thought-out approach produced better more solid results than youthful exuberance. A planned considered attack had more lasting results and surprisingly often resulted in resolving situations that had been brewing unnoticed in the background. He no longer felt bound to justify his actions, as a quiet resolution and the respect he now both received and gave left no need.

There were few surprises now, and perhaps that was bad because it might lead to a lessening of alertness, a take-it-for-granted scenario that could be fatal. He frequently had to shake himself to keep from falling into apathy, remembering that there was more than just himself to think about. There was always “something new under the sun” and he had to be alert for it.

He didn’t like to think he cared any less, but on the bad days the cruelty and desperation in the lives that touched his seemed like a personal attack on his integrity and honour.

Most of the credit for his renewed acceptance and interest belonged on the “Love” side of the ledger. Who would believe that at his age he could find the deep soul-binding love that he had unconsciously been needing all of his life. A love that balanced him, tilted the scales in his favour changed his whole approach to everything he did.

He found it amazing that even after all this time it still permeated every thought and deed, made him a better person than he had even thought possible, its evolution a mystery that teased his intellect with insight periodically although he had long ago stopped trying to analyse it.

The down side was that it created its own set of problems that occasionally still raised their ugly heads. Acceptance had been a hard pill to swallow for many, but it continually amazed him that to those who knew him best it came as no surprise. And that gave him the courage to deal with the rest.

It also often stirred the fear in him that he could someday lose it all to the demands of the job.

But mostly his utter and complete happiness overrode it all. Even the worst-case scenario could not dent his belief in the eternity of this love.

The two most important features in his life had meshed into one element and his satisfaction with the result left him complete, releasing the need for control, his choices now made with absolute confidence.

His partner and his love were one, and Starsky alone knew how deep his devotion and commitment were, how radically the change had altered him, made him thoroughly at peace with his turbulent other self.

How much better could it get?