Regular Programming Resumed

149

Starsky and Hutch have a weekend at a cabin to try to restore their Me and Thee bond after the unsettling feelings left behind from their undercover operation at Cabrillo State Mental Institution (Murder Ward).They realise that they are also carrying a lot of baggage from preceeding weeks – I Love You, Rosey Malone and Fatal Charm.

Sequel to ‘Me and The Interrupted’. First published 2021.

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As his consciousness registered cessation of movement, Starsky started to wake up. He blinked a few times and stretched out his stiff neck. Still half asleep, he looked around him; expecting to see that Hutch’s car was stopped at the agreed half-way pit stop, he was surprised instead to view the cabin that Arnold from Accounting had said they could use for a few days.

“What the…? Hutch?”

Irritated, he turned to berate Hutch for not waking him up; but the words of annoyance died on his lips when he saw his partner was sitting slumped in the driver’s seat, with his head back against the head rest and his eyes closed. Starsky’s expression softened.

“Hey buddy. Thought you were going to let me share the driving? Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were exhausted. I figured I’d let you sleep,” Hutch murmured.

Starsky shook his head fondly at his partner and gently placed his hand on the nearest drooping shoulder.

“You’ve been just as tired as me and now you’ll be exhausted. You’re such a dummy, ya big lug…And thanks, I do feel a little better for the uninterrupted sleep.”

Hutch’s lips curled into a small smile, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Right,” Starsky said, all business now he had a little energy, “You stay there while I do the unpacking.”

Hutch opened one eye and shifted slightly.

“I said stay there,” Starsky growled. “I’ll take everything in. I’ll give you a shout when your bed’s ready then you can crash out for a while. You look like you need to.”

“I’m alright. I can help,” Hutch protested half-heartedly.

“Nope. Stay put. You drove. I’ll unpack.”

Starsky’s fierce expression dared Hutch to disagree with his plan. Hutch decided it was best to yield rather than face Starsky’s displeasure or his full mother-hen routine.

“Okay, I’ll stay put. Thanks Starsk.”

Starsky nodded, climbed out and opened the trunk. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, grabbed a small box with one hand and Hutch’s suitcase with the other. He climbed the three steps to the front door and fumbled to find the key Arnold had given him. Once the door was unlocked, he carried the first group of items into the cabin, stepping on an incredibly creaky plank right in the entrance way. He looked around, pleased with what he saw: doors leading to a bathroom and two bedrooms; a fireplace in case the weather got really cold; a basket of logs and kindling set ready; a two-seater dark red sofa; a small coffee table; a wooden rocking chair; a medium sized table with four upright chairs; and a kitchen that had all the basics. It looked perfect for a couple of days of leisure.

Starsky used the bathroom and checked on the bedrooms then headed back out to the car. By this time, Hutch was fast asleep and Starsky nodded to himself with relief. Borrowing the cabin had definitely been a good idea. Hutch was so tired – correction, they were both totally exhausted – and a few days away from everything was just what they needed.

Once he’d made his second trip and got everything inside, Starsky carried the bag of sheets and pillow cases through to the first bedroom. He made up the double bed for Hutch – nice neat corners just like he’d been shown in the army – and then went into the second room and made up one of the twin beds for himself. Arnold and Betty had two daughters and the cabin was their haven for weekends and holidays. Starsky could tell it was a home away from home for them.

Beds made, Starsky looked at his watch and saw it was getting towards three thirty. Starsky was loath to wake Hutch, but he also didn’t want him getting a bad neck or back from sleeping in the car for too long. Very, very gently he coaxed his sleepy partner awake and supported him as they climbed the steps up into the cabin. He led Hutch across to the nearest bedroom.

“This is your room. Get some sleep, pal. You want I should wake you for dinner or leave ya?”

“I don’t know,” Hutch yawned. “Yeah, you’d better wake me before dinner or I won’t sleep tonight.”

“All right, pal.”

As Hutch stumbled into the bedroom and closed the door, Starsky retrieved his own bag and went and unpacked his clothes. Then he went and organised the food and drinks they’d brought with them, placing them into the ice box and cupboards. When everything was squared away to his satisfaction, Starsky went back outside to lock the car. The only things left in the trunk were Hutch’s fishing rod and waders. And a rusty, metal wine rack.  Why? Starsky had no idea where it had come from or why Hutch was hanging onto it. Sometimes his partner was just weird. Starsky shook his head as he pushed the trunk closed and locked it. Then he headed off to stretch his legs with a short walk before the sun started to go down.

Arnold’s cabin was in a little clearing all by itself, in amongst mostly deciduous trees. As promised by Arnold, a short walk down a lane behind the cabin led him to a large, tranquil lake. He regarded the view with pleasure. The trees were glorious in the late afternoon sunshine; all the colours between crimson, copper, bronze, amber and gold. Beautifully decorated branches were reflected in the lake, making the colours seem even more magical.

Starsky could see a few cabins in the distance edging the side of the lake at a diagonal from where he stood. There seemed to be little sign of activity at any of them. Close by, on this side of the lake, there was a jetty and the boathouse housing a small rowboat that Arnold and his family co-owned with another family. Maybe he and Hutch would take it out for a spin on the lake tomorrow. They could try some fishing too. Hutch would like that. It might help him unwind. He’d been wound tight as a drum the last couple of weeks. Starsky wasn’t sure why and felt bad that he didn’t. Shouldn’t he know what was bothering his pal? Maybe something had already interrupted their bond before Cabrillo. He hoped they could get to the bottom of it over the next couple of days. He wanted, no needed, to be in complete synch with his partner and best friend. It wasn’t a stretch to say that their lives, and their sanity, depended on it.

Starsky returned from his internal thoughts and went back to looking around the scene before him. A few hundred yards away, a track led to another cabin. Starsky couldn’t see anybody out on the lake today, except for one lone fisherman moored opposite. The man waved and Starsky waved back. Come the weekend, a few families might visit to take advantage of this beautiful spot and enjoy some time out in nature. Starsky breathed in the peace and quiet and, for once, felt completely at ease being in the middle of nowhere. He needed this. They both needed this. A chance to breathe, to be calm and to settle. A chance to soothe nerves that were jangling. From Cabrillo? From previous events? In his own case, it was an opportunity to settle down feelings that were still churned up by recent events. He knew his emotions were unusually close to the surface and had been before they went into Cabrillo. The experience there had just added to his sense that he was carrying a heart that was bruised and quick to feel pain. He sighed.

After checking his watch, he decided he would head back and make a start on fixing dinner for both of them before he woke Hutch. When he arrived back, he carefully walked into the wooden building, trying his best to avoid the squeaky floorboard. He set about getting some salad ready, preparing a tomato and herb sauce and then set some meatballs to one side ready for cooking. Hutch wasn’t keen on meatballs so Starsky had picked up some diced chicken pieces for his friend. He was just about to start heating oil in two pans when he was startled by a shout of fear coming from the bedroom.

As fast as a bullet, he leapt over an armchair and crashed into Hutch’s bedroom to find his partner sitting bolt upright in bed, breathing hard.

“Hutch? You alright?”

His partner stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds and then began to relax, slowly getting his breathing back under control. He ran a hand over his face, wiping the sweat away.

“S-Sorry. Bad dream.”

“Bad dream? Must have been a doozy to wake you up like that,” Starsky commented as he moved to sit on the end of the bed. “Wanna talk about it.”

Hutch looked down and shook his head. Starsky decided to let it go for now.

“I was just about to wake ya anyway. Why don’t you have shower? By the time you’re done, dinner should be ready.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Starsky left Hutch to wake up, shower and dress while he cooked their food. When Hutch finally appeared, Starsky told him to get the table ready while he served up. With a flourish that would have impressed an experienced waiter, Starsky placed both their meals onto the table and sat down.

“’Gezunterhayt,” he said as he shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.

“Bon Appetit!” Hutch responded. “It all looks good, pal. Thanks. Wasn’t sure I’d be up to eating anything at all, but this smells great.”

“Great. Now stop talking and eat up!” Starsky ordered.

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

They ate in contented silence for a while. As they began to slow down, Starsky popped the caps off two beer bottles and handed one to Hutch.

“Cheers. Here’s to us.”

“Cheers.”

They finished their meal and then took their drinks over to the lounge area and set them down on the small coffee table. Starsky decided to try out the rocking chair while Hutch roamed the room, sticking his head into Starsky’s room to view the layout, and then opening the tall closet near the front door. It contained shelves with a selection of books, puzzles and games. He found a pack of playing cards and brought them with him as he settled down on the sofa.

“Thanks for giving me the double bed. Next time I’ll take the twin room.”

Starsky shook his head. “I don’t mind a single for a couple of nights and you’re taller than me, you need more room for your legs.”

“Okay, thanks.” Hutch smiled. He pulled the cards out of the pack and asked, “You want to play cards for a while? I don’t think my brain can cope with anything more taxing tonight.”

“Sure.”

As Hutch shuffled the cards, Starsky ventured a question, “You wanna tell me about your nightmare now?”

Hutch grimaced. “It’s not important.”

“But it’s something to do with Cabrillo?”

Hutch shook his head. “Not exactly…but maybe because of it.”

“What does that mean? Oh. Has it got something to do with you being drugged?”

Hutch heard the concern in Starsky’s voice and made eye contact with him. He knew full well that his friend had been worried that being drugged by Doctor Matwick might cause Hutch some flashbacks to his time on heroin.

He was quick to reassure his partner, “No. Surprisingly, no. It’s not to do with that.”

“Well, what is it to do with? You may as well just tell me or I’ll keep asking you questions all night.”

Hutch sighed. He knew that Starsky was in dog-with-a-bone mode and would be true to his word if Hutch didn’t answer the question.

“All right. You want to know what’s on my mind…It’s that Deek used a knife,” he said, as if that was enough explanation and perhaps it was.

Starsky frowned at him for a moment and then let out a long sigh of understanding. It was only two weeks since Hutch had been attacked with a knife in his own home by that completely mad and dangerous woman, Diana.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, pal. I should have realised what was going on. You’ve only just started sleeping properly after that nut job…” Starsky almost choked on his own anxiety and guilt, “- after that incident and now this! I should have realised. I should have checked how you were coping with it all before now. I’m sorry.”

Starsky grabbed his beer and took an angry swig. He felt he’d let Hutch down again by not understanding that Deek threatening Hutch with a knife was bound to have triggered some bad memories. Realising his bottle was almost empty; he jumped up, glad of the excuse to get away from Hutch’s gaze. He strode over to the ice box, mentally shaking his head at himself. He collected two more Coors, which he deposited onto the table in front of Hutch.

“Hey.” Hutch waited for Starsky to look back at him before he carried on speaking. “Don’t you start thinking that you’ve let me down somehow. The whole reason we’re here is because we’ve both been ‘stretched thin’. Your words, remember. We’ve both got things we need to talk through… We’ve both been through a tough few weeks. This weekend was just the last straw.”

“I guess we have both been unsettled.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Me with…her.” Hutch couldn’t bring himself to say Diana’s name yet. “And you with-“

“-Yeah. I know.” Starsky interrupted before Hutch could mention Rosey’s name out loud. He didn’t want to go back down that road tonight. He looked away from Hutch’s concerned gaze. They’d talked long into the night about Rosey before they’d gone undercover at Cabrillo. What more was there to say? That she was the first girl since Terry that he thought he might have been able to make a life with and that it hadn’t worked out? That it hurt almost as bad as losing Terry had? He blinked back tears. He didn’t want to go down that road either. What a year! He looked back at Hutch and saw the same worried look on his partner’s face.

“It’s still painful,” he acknowledged. Sighing, he added, “It’s been a pretty awful year, one way or another, hasn’t it? Think we can fast forward the rest of ’77 and go straight into ’78?”

Hutch huffed a laugh. “You’re not wrong about that and if only we could! Is it any wonder we both needed to get away and recharge! And maybe we’ve got more to talk through than either of us realised? Maybe this is about more than what happened at Cabrillo?”

Starsky stayed quiet for a moment then wrinkled his nose, before speaking: “Hutch?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we leave the talking for tonight? Can we just play cards for a bit and then call it a night? I can see you’re tired. I know I’m tired. To be honest, I don’t think I can even take anymore thinking about what we’ve both been through these last few weeks and months, let alone talking about it tonight. Can we leave all the talking till tomorrow?”

“Of course, we can. That sounds like a sensible idea,” Hutch said, with as much reassurance as he could put into his voice and eyes. “I agree we both need to get lots of rest. See? We’re getting back in synch already. There’s nothing to worry about; more talking can certainly wait.”

Starsky favoured him with a smile. “Thanks, pal.”

With a nod, Hutch began dealing out the cards he’d shuffled and the pair of them settled down to a game of Pinochle.

*****

Hutch crept out of his bedroom, only to find his partner was already in the kitchen. Clearly, neither of them was having the best night’s sleep. As he walked past Starsky, Hutch patted his friend’s shoulder and peered at the slightly steaming mug he was holding.

“I found a tin of rock hard cocoa powder in the back of a cupboard,” Starsky explained. “It’s awful, but there’s some made up in the pan if you want any.”

“You make it sound so delicious, how can I resist?” Hutch asked with a grimace.

Nevertheless he walked over to the stove and poured the remaining lumpy mixture into a tin mug. Eyeing his cocoa suspiciously, he took it over to the table and sat down opposite Starsky. Almost theatrically, he took a cautious sip.

“Ick!”

“I did warn ya!”

“Then why on earth are you drinking it?”

Starsky shrugged, before asking, “You just restless ‘cause of sleeping earlier in the day? Or did you have another nightmare?”

Hutch made a face and then admitted, “The latter. Not as bad as earlier but…”

“Diana in it again?”

Hutch shook his head and shuddered. “No. Just a shadowy figure in the woods around the cabin…and the flash of a knife.”

Hutch looked at his friend to find sympathy on his face. He nodded at him. Forgetting for a minute his decision not to drink anymore cocoa, he took a sip and nearly spat it straight back out. Starsky chuckled slightly as Hutch pushed the offending substance away across the table.

“What about you, Starsky? Why are you up? Bad dreams?”

“Mmm.”

“About?” Hutch prompted.

It took a moment for Starsky to be able to grind the words out. “Being locked up forever in that place…Straightjackets. Bars on windows. Being gagged.” All of a sudden, the hesitancy was gone and it was as if Starsky couldn’t stop talking even if he wanted to. “I’ve never felt so vulnerable, Hutch. I knew it would be an uncomfortable experience going in undercover there, but I guess I never really thought about just how bad it could be. About how they might be treating the inmates. It was barbaric. I know some of the people there need locking up for everyone else’s safety. I know that. I do.

But not everyone’s a psycho like Deek. Some of them aren’t in much worse mental condition than Eddie Hoyle. Ya know what I mean. They shouldn’t be being treated like that. Nobody should be treated like that. And what about Freddie? I mean he’s delusional but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. But they’ve treated him rough, real rough. Drugged him for putting a step wrong and irritating the staff. Drugged him. Tied him down. Threatened him with…”

Abruptly, Starsky realised he was crying and Hutch had moved swiftly to his side to put an arm around him. He grabbed onto Hutch’s t-shirt and held on tight.

“Hutch, I…Hutch…”

He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath and realised he was in danger of hyperventilating. Hutch seemed to realise it too. One hand moved to turn his partner’s face towards him so Starsky had to look into his eyes.

“Easy, buddy. Slow, small breaths, Starsk. It’s all going to be okay. You’re safe and you’ll never be going back to that place. Easy, take slow, small breaths. That’s it. You’re safe here. Okay? I got you.”

Starsky’s breathing gradually returned to normal. He nodded at Hutch, trying to show he was back in control and attempted a weak smile. Hutch nodded back.

“You’re right that the place was barbaric, but try to think positive. The County Administration Review Board is ripping that place apart right now, getting rid of all the staff we’ve listed in our report as being abusive. They’ll replace them with good people. It’ll get better there for Freddie and everyone.”

Starsky slowly released his grip on Hutch’s shirt, sniffed and wiped at his face. A little shakily, he said, “Yeah, I know. I know it’s going to get better, Hutch. We helped make that happen. We did good, didn’t we, pal?”

“Yeah, we did, Starsk.” Hutch squeezed Starsky’s shoulders. “Okay now?”

“Yeah. Thanks, pal. I guess I just needed to say out loud how I was feeling. I got all this stuff going round and round my head. That’s why I haven’t be able to sleep, I guess. Although, to tell the truth…I already wasn’t sleeping great.”

Hutch nodded with understanding. “Still feeling raw from Rosey?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And then this assignment happened. No wonder you’re not sleeping.”

“I hate feeling like this – so out of control with my emotions. And I’m sorry to throw all this nonsense on you.”

Hutch shook his head. “Two way street there, pal. I think you really needed to offload all that stuff and I’m glad you were able to. It’s what we do, isn’t it. That’s Me and Thee, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Starsky said quietly. “You’re right. Me and Thee like always.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be able to sleep properly from now on. Letting go should quieten your mind down some. As to being out of control with your emotions – don’t forget, you were drugged about a hundred times in one weekend. It’s bound to mess with your head!”

Starsky attempted a joke. “Nah, wasn’t that many, Hutch. Only about fifty times. You’re always exaggerating!”

Hutch snorted at the lame attempt at humour, knowing it would make Starsky feel better. Starsky took a deep breath, stretched his shoulders and back as if he was physically throwing off a heavy load and then turned his full attention to his friend.

“And what about you, pal? Your turn to ‘fess up. How are you doing really? Diana did a number on ya and we should have realised the aftermath wouldn’t go away overnight…At least, I should have realised.” Starsky looked at his friend with guilty eyes. “I’m sorry, Hutch. I’m sorry I didn’t take your concerns about her seriously. And I’m sorry I assumed that you would just bounce back to normal.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. Just because I started to get the feeling she was a little odd – let’s face it downright strange doesn’t even come close – doesn’t mean it should have been easy to recognise that she was really crazy. Especially, as she did a good job of hiding it…at least at first.” He shook his head and added, “I’ve been injured before. I don’t know why being attacked by a knife has unsettled me so much. You’d think being shot would be worse, wouldn’t you?”

Starsky shook his head. “Don’t know. I mean some of the victims we interview seem pretty messed up when it’s a knife attack.”

Hutch frowned and, as if feeling his way through a maze of thoughts, said slowly, “Being attacked is something we’ve come to accept as part of our job. I guess we don’t usually allow ourselves to feel like victims. Like that’s a bad thing, if we do. A weakness…Don’t be a victim. I can hear some of the cops in the squad room saying that like they’re saying ‘Buck up. Pull yourself together!’ Know what I mean, Starsk?”

“I guess.”

Hutch turned his gaze away as if he had found something fascinating to stare at on the wall of the cabin. “What you said earlier about feeling vulnerable…I guess I felt like that after Diana attacked me. Like I’d lost control of my life. Like I had no power anymore. But I figured I had to pull myself together and get back to work. Take control. Be a man. I guess Deek brought all those feelings of vulnerability back.”

Starsky nodded but stayed quiet. They hadn’t really talked about how the attack by Diana had affected Hutch. Starsky had been more concerned with Hutch’s physical condition. That was something he knew how to deal with and he knew what he could do to support his friend. As for the internal disruption that might be going on, as a result of being a victim of assault, that was something he didn’t know how to begin to help with.

They’d both dealt with assault victims on the job. They always tried to be kind and gentle, but the nitty-gritty of the emotional and psychological damage, well, that was something that was dealt with by others – shrinks, victim support and so on. It was way out of his wheelhouse.

Looking at his friend’s strained face, he could see Hutch had more he needed to say on the subject and maybe his job was just to listen like Hutch had done for him. When anything really disturbed his partner’s equilibrium, it was best to just give him space to work through everything that was going on his brain and wait for him to put it into words. So Starsky waited.

“The fact that she got into my home…destroyed my home, killed my plants, ripped my sofa to shreds, broke my guitar into p-pieces…”

Hutch’s voice faltered with emotion and Starsky felt his throat tighten in response. He leaned forward and patted Hutch’s arm. Hutch turned to look at him again.

“I feel like my safe place had been violated…That’s pathetic, isn’t it? I sound pathetic. I sound like-”

“-You sound like you’ve been the victim of an assault by a frightening nut job. Your home was violated, Hutch. It’s not wrong to feel like that way. It’s okay to talk to me about it. It’s okay to let those feelings out. I get it. What you said about being hurt on the job…That’s different, isn’t it? I’m suddenly realising how different it is from being attacked in your own home, in your personal life. I think I finally understand just how bad that would feel. I hope you believe me and feel you can talk to me about it anytime you need to.”

Hutch swallowed and nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that, pal.”

They both yawned and then laughed.

“Think we should try to get some more sleep now?” Hutch asked.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. And let’s sleep in if we can,” Starsky said as he stood up. “Then maybe we could take Arnold’s boat out later in the day. I saw the lake yesterday evening, it’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

Hutch’s face brightened. “Can I do some fishing, do you think?”

Starsky nodded. “Definitely. Night, pal. Sleep tight.”

“You too. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

Starsky rolled his eyes and then headed off to bed. Hutch placed the mugs of undrinkable cocoa in the sink, turned out the lamp and then headed back to bed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a couple of weeks. Talking to Starsky had definitely helped to soothe his state of mind.

*****

Early the next afternoon, Hutch retrieved his fishing gear from the trunk of his car and set off with Starsky down to the lake. Between them, they managed to successfully uncover the green rowing boat and manoeuvre it out along the edge of the short jetty. Hutch lowered his fishing gear carefully into the boat while Starsky climbed in and carefully settled himself on the wooden slat across the back. Hutch went to climb in, all long legs and unbalanced centre of gravity.

“Thought you were a Sea Scout,” Starsky demanded, as he tried to calm the rocking boat. “Where are your sea legs? How long is this going to take?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting there!” Hutch said.

The boat rocked alarmingly as Hutch finally got both legs on board and attempted to move forwards.

“Woah! Sit down, for goodness sake!”

“Starsky?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up! You’re scaring the fish!”

Starsky grinned as they both picked up their oars and started rowing out towards the middle of the lake. Once they’d reached what Hutch felt was the optimal distance, they stopped and set the oars inside the boat carefully. Starsky helped Hutch twist the lengths of his fishing rod together and watched as his partner attached the bait and then cast the line.

After a few minutes, Starsky started rummaging in the small bag he’d brought with him.

“What are you looking for?”

“A candy bar. I’m hungry.”

“Already? That’s a record even for you!”

Starsky tore the wrapper off the bar and took a large bite.

“So,” Starsky said, showering crumbs over his lap, “You sleep any better?”

“Yeah, much better. You?”

“Yeah, I slept good. How are you doing today?”

Hutch looked thoughtful. “Feeling…better, less stretched out. You?”

“The same.”

“Good. That’s good but now can we keep quiet so we don’t scare the fish?”

Starsky sighed. “Oh yeah, sorry. I’ll keep quiet.”

The silence lasted about five minutes.

“Any sign of a fish yet? I’m bored.”

“You’re hopeless. Can’t you just sit and think quietly for a while?”

“Think about what?”

“I don’t know. Life?”

“What about life?”

“That it goes on. That it’s a beautiful day on a beautiful lake. How many fish are there and why aren’t they biting?”

“I was just wondering that. Let’s play a game. Twenty questions.”

Hutch sighed. For a second, he thought about launching into lecture, but stopped himself. Their trip was about spending time together, not fishing.

“All right.”

He pulled his line in and set the rod down. He looked up to see Starsky watching him with wary eyes.

“What?”

“Thought you might be cross I was stopping you fishing.”

“Life’s too short, Starsk, and we’re here to spend time together so…”

Starsky grinned and then rubbed his hands together with glee.

“I got a good one. You guess first.”

“Is it member of the animal kingdom?” Hutch had played this game with Starsky before and knew he needed to make his questions specific or Starsky would mislead him.

“Yes.”

“Does it have four legs?”

“When you say legs, do you mean legs? Or do you mean limbs? ‘Cause I don’t want you to tell me I’m cheating when you lose.”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Okay limbs. Does it have four limbs?”

“No.”

“What after all that!” Hutch huffed and moved on to the next question: “Can it fly?”

“No.”

“Is it an insect?”

“No.”

“Can it swim?”

“Yes.”

“Is it found in freshwater?”

“Um maybe.”

Hutch frowned. “Creatures related to water are usually found in freshwater or seawater? Not both.”

“Well, okay,” Starsky stated with a shrug. “Freshwater.”

“Hmm. Does it live in water?”

“No.”

“So it lives on land but goes in water?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s got to be an amphibian then and they have legs, four of them.”

“It’s not an amphibian,” Starsky stated firmly.

“Then I give up. You win.”

“One to me,” Starsky said with a grin. “Your turn.”

“What was it then?” Hutch demanded. “You have to tell me otherwise how do I know you didn’t cheat?”

“As if I would! But if you need to know; it’s a duck. There’s one over there,” Starsky said, pointing at a mottled white and black water bird.

“I think you’ll find that’s a Common Loon, which seems quite appropriate given who’s in the boat with me,” Hutch said in a teasing tone. Then he frowned as a thought occurred. “Hang on. I asked you if it could fly and you said no!”

“It swims, it doesn’t fly!”

Hutch looked around as if saying ‘Is it me?’ to an imaginary audience. “Of course it flies, Starsky! How do you think it got here?”

“Swam.”

“But before that?”

Starsky shrugged. “Walked. I’m not an expert on ducks! And what makes you suddenly know all there is to know about ducks?”

“Like I said before, it’s not a duck, it’s a Loon!”

“If you say so, Blintz.”

Hutch picked up his oars. “Right, get rowing, Gordo.”

“Why?”

“We’re going over to the Loon.”

“Why? Are you going to ask it if it flies?”

“No, dummy, if we head over there it will probably take flight to get away from us. Then you’ll see!”

“Okay, all right. I believe you. Loons fly. It’s not worth rowing all the way over there and back again.”

Hutch looked triumphant. “Zero to you. One to me.”

Starsky rolled his eyes. Hutch grinned at him and suddenly they were both laughing.

“We haven’t done enough of this recently,” Starsky observed. “You know just goofing around, laughing at silly stuff.”

Hutch nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. This is good.”

“Yeah, feels like we’re getting back to our normal.”

“Yeah, regular programming resumed.”

“Huh?”

Hutch started laughing again. “I’ll explain later. You want to head back and eat something. You look hungry, though as that’s a constant state for you, it’s probably not urgent.”

Starsky made a face at Hutch. At the same time, his stomach started rumbling.

“Now it’s urgent,” Starsky declared.

Chuckling, they both set their oars in the blocks and started rowing back to the jetty and the boathouse. Once there, Starsky leapt out and tried to hold the boat still for his partner. Hutch threw his fishing gear onto the jetty and then stood up. Hutch lurched to one side. The boat tipped at such a sharp angle, it was impossible for Starsky to hang on to. Comically flailing his arms like a helicopter as if he hoped it would help him regain his balance, Hutch fell backwards into the lake with a loud splash. All the nearby wildlife scattered.

As Hutch spluttered to the surface, Starsky reached out a hand to help him up onto the jetty, saying, “You were right about the Loon. It flew off.” He started chuckling again.

Panting, Hutch retorted, “So help me, Starsky, that’s not funny! Stop laughing! Or do you want to end up in the lake too?”

Smothering a laugh, Starsky kept a safe distance from Hutch and his long arms as they righted the boat, restored it to its home and then covered it up for the coming winter months.

“Come on, pal. Let’s go get a fire going in the fireplace and get you warmed up and your wet clothes dried off.”

As Hutch squelched his way back to the cabin alongside his occasionally giggling friend, Starsky said, “You get into some other clothes and I’ll make you a hot drink.”

“Thanks pal. That would be great…As long as it’s anything but that cocoa!”