I Caught a Break Today

Starsky gets wounded while capturing a perp, and they meet a guardian nurse angel while being cared for at the hospital.

Author’s Note: Once again, the seed was planted by someone else. This one’s for you, Paula.

I listened closely to the ER doc as I watched my partner dozing. We’d apprehended two robbery suspects as they tried to get away down the alley behind the electronics store. It was a shame we had to bother, they hadn’t gotten away with anything. No money, no equipment, nobody got hurt, but they had used a knife in their attempt to hold up the store manager. One of his employees saw what was going down and pressed a silent alarm, the call for which happened to come over the radio just a few blocks from where we were parked eating our lunch.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said to my ever-hungry partner. He had just about the messiest burrito I’d ever seen him eat in his hands. There was no way he could drive and eat that thing. He was going have to toss it, and to say he was conflicted about it would have been an understatement.

I heard a sigh, and then I saw him toss the greasy mess out the window. “Hutch, I swear it’s a conspiracy. I’m getting the feelin’ somebody up there thinks I’m too fat.” Hutch watched as Starsky put the car in gear and quickly reversed direction to get us to the electronics store.

“I don’t think that’s it, Starsk,” I said to my now irritated partner. I held on for dear life as I tossed the Mars light on the roof. A mad Starsky in a hurry was not exactly my idea of a safe ride. “It’s more likely somebody up there wants you to live a little longer.” Of course, if that were the case, somebody up there wouldn’t have given Starsky such a heavy foot. “Hey, you wanna watch where you’re driving, buddy?” I asked, just a little bit perturbed myself. Starsky just barely missed the pick-up in the right turn lane.

“Don’t give me grief about my drivin’, Hutch. I’m not in the mood.” Gee, who could tell?

We pulled up with a screech of the tires as we saw two people heading hurriedly out of the store. They saw the red light flashing on the roof and made a dash for the alley. I flew out of the car and headed down the alley as Starsky took the Torino around to close off their exit around the block.

I was making little progress catching up to them. They found just about every piece of trash to throw back in my path. I heard the Torino’s tires screeching again as Starsky jumped out to block their forward movement. I saw what looked like a mirror between the one perp and Starsky. And then I saw the perp lunge for my partner. It wasn’t a mirror, but a knife glistening in the midday sun. Starsky was wearing a t-shirt and a light, loose shirt to hide his holster; it was a sweltering day and even his navy windbreaker was too much for this heat.

Suddenly, a dark spot appeared on his shoulder and down his arm. He grabbed for his upper arm, as if to hold the cut closed, and then slowly fell to the ground. The two robbers looked shocked and seemed stunned as to where to head to next. It gave me just enough time to pull my weapon and yell, “Hold it! Down on the ground.” With no response or reaction from either of them, I used my most menacing tone and added, “You’ve assaulted a police officer. I’d think twice about fleeing now. It’ll go down easier on you if you give up, right now.” My eyes went briefly to Starsky, who was still conscious, but losing blood pretty rapidly. I needed to get this over with quickly.

“Okay, okay. I give up.” The black suspect did as he was told and got down on the ground. His friend didn’t look ready to give up quite so easily. I kept the gun aimed at him as I landed my knee heavily into the other one’s back. Keeping my eye on the one still standing, I quickly got the cuffs on the perp on the ground.

“What’s it gonna be?” I asked. In my business I have had ample opportunity to watch as suspects work through their options in those few seconds they have to make a decision to try to make a run for it or give up. This guy was taking more time than I liked. I heard Starsky groan and was briefly distracted, looking his way. The other suspect turned to make a run for it. I raised my gun and shot into the air.

“Stop, or the next one’s going in your leg. Do you know what it’s like to get hit with a .357 Magnum? Have you seen ‘Dirty Harry’?” I asked as I aimed the gun at his leg.

“Uh… uh… all right, I’m down,” he said as he flew for the dirt.

“Stay put, head in the dirt. Put your hands behind your back.” I didn’t know how I’d be able to get Starsky’s cuffs and keep an eye on this guy when I suddenly heard the beautiful sound of sirens heading our way. As soon as the black and white skidded to a halt, I headed to my partner, yelling for the uniforms to get the other one cuffed and to call for more back up and an ambulance.

I got down on the ground with Starsky. He was leaning against his tire well; at least this time he wasn’t unconscious up against that tire. I shivered thinking about that day, that day where I almost lost him. That picture is ingrained in my memory. It was the worst day of my life.

I shook that vision out of my mind and got down to business. “Hey, buddy, what’re you doin’ down there? I could have used your help over here.”

“You seemed to have things under control. I was feelin’ a little tired, thought I’d take a rest. D’you mind?” Starsky didn’t seem too out of it. Maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as I thought. But there was an awful lot of blood. The entire right arm of his over shirt was now that dark brown color that blood gets when it soaks through cloth. The collar and the right pocket were also soaked.

“Here, let me take a look at what we’ve got here.” I tried to peel the shirt off of him, but he wouldn’t move his left hand. “Hey, take a break for a minute, huh Starsk? I’ll apply pressure.” He responded to my command, immediately dropping his left arm to his lap. He seemed exhausted from the effort of applying the pressure; he’d been doing it steadily for a few minutes already. And I think the loss of blood was also adding to his increasingly listless state.

Thankfully, the paramedics arrived and I was relieved of any further ministrations, except trying to ease my friend’s concerns. He seemed a little worried; he was most likely worried about what kind of bench time this injury was going to cause him. There was nothing Starsky hated more than recovering from an injury. I think that was partly because of what seemed to both of us an inordinately large number of times that he has had to take time off or work at a desk due to being injured on the job. He’d been injured more times than anyone I knew. Of course, he’d also been involved in more solved cases than anyone I knew.

But I also knew the other reason he hated to be sitting on the bench was because it took him off the street and, therefore, made it impossible for him to cover my back. Of course, whenever possible, Dobey would assign me to desk duty, too, especially if the recovery time was just a few days. But sometimes Dobey and the department couldn’t afford to sit two of their detectives down, especially if one of them was perfectly healthy and capable to work. So we often would get paired up with other detectives, due to illness or vacation, or work solo. And that always bothered Starsky. I can’t say I was too crazy about it when that happened either.

The paramedics had things under control. An IV was started and they got him ready to transport to Memorial. “Hutch,” Starsky called quietly. He was getting sleepy, probably a side effect of the blood loss, the painkiller they had injected and a little bit of shock.

“Yeah, Starsk?” I asked.

He looked at me with droopy eyes and said, “Don’t leave my car here, okay?” I wanted to ride with him to the hospital, but I knew, since he was still fighting to stay awake, that he would pester me about leaving his car in a less than friendly neighborhood. And I didn’t want him to worry about that. I only wanted him to worry about resting and getting better.

“Okay, I’ll meet you at Memorial, okay?” I patted his uninjured shoulder firmly.

“Thanks, Hutsch,” he replied, very close to sleep.

I looked up at the EMT and she said, “Don’t worry, Detective, we’ll take good care of him. It looks to be pretty deep, but he’s stable. I’m sure he’ll be fine. See you there.” I moved away as they loaded him into the back and closed the door. She looked back at me through the window and smiled. I smiled back, but it was just a courtesy. I definitely didn’t feel like smiling at that moment.

I swung past Metro and dropped Starsky’s car off there and picked up mine. I figured that since he wouldn’t be using it for a couple of days it would be safe and secure there in the garage. And I got the feeling that Starsky would be staying with me for a few days anyway while he recovered.

So here I was, listening to the instructions from the doctor on how to care for the wound and what the two prescriptions were for. Starsky was being released to my care, which worked for me and definitely would please my sleepy partner, once he was awake enough to understand what was going on.

“Starsk, Starsk, wake up, sunshine.” I tried to coax him awake. The day had really done a number on him. The good part was that he hadn’t lost as much blood as it looked, so they didn’t have to keep him overnight. He had lost some, and although they had replenished it during his time in the ER, it was probably still contributing to his sleepiness.

He blinked a few times, and yawned and asked, “Where’re we goin’?”

“Home. Come on, the sooner you wake up, the sooner you can go back to sleep in a comfy bed.” I helped him sit up. He was still drowsy, but understood that he was released from ER hell, so he was becoming more alert pretty fast.

“Sounds nice,” he said as he got to his feet, wobbly, but on his feet nonetheless.

“Okay, Detective, here’s your ride.” The nurse came in with a wheelchair. Starsky gratefully started to sit, holding on with just one arm and plopping not too gracefully into the chair. He knocked his right arm a little as he fell in, and you could see the resulting pain in the grimace on his face.

“Slow down, Starsk. Let me or the nurse help you.” He put his head down and leaned it on his left hand.

“Can we get outta here, Hutch?” My partner had reached his limit for the day.

“Sure. Hey, Nurse…” I tried to read her nametag, but she moved around to push Starsky’s wheelchair and said, “Betty, my name’s Betty.”

“Um, Betty, could you take my partner down while I go bring the car around?”

Betty smiled sweetly and said, “Sure honey. It’d be my pleasure to spend some time with curly here.”

Starsky looked up and smiled. Even half asleep, he was still getting the girl. I wanted to puke.

“Thanks,” I said, shaking my head as I went to fetch the car.

I saw Betty and Starsky chatting when I walked up the sidewalk. I knew that if Starsky were feeling better I’d be in for all kinds of crap from my partner today. I just had to hope that he wasn’t feeling quite up to chastising me today.

“Whassa matter?” Starsky asked, his eyes crinkled from smiling at cute Nurse Betty.

“Car won’t start.” I said flatly, hoping that would be all I’d have to say.

“My car won’t start?” Starsky asked, incredulous. “I just got it outta the shop. It’s gotta start.”

“Not your car. My car won’t start.” Here we go.

“Your car? Why do we have your car? Where’s my car? I thought you were gonna drive my car out of that neighborhood. How could you leave my car there? Come on, let’s go.” He started to get out of the chair unassisted, and found he could not get enough purchase with just the one good arm and the other severely aching one.

“Your car is safe. It’s in the police garage. I figured you’d be unable to drive for a while and you might feel more comfortable with it parked in a safe place. Did I mention you’re staying with me while you recuperate?” That seemed to shut him up, but only for a second.

“Thanks. I think. But now how’re we getting home?” Starsky seemed to be tiring quickly, and he was leaning hard on his left side, as if even attempting to remain upright was too much of a strain on his injured arm.

“Hey, let me drive you home,” Nurse Betty offered.

Starsky and I looked at each other. A nurse. Knowing where we live. We didn’t have good experience with this kind of thing.

Starsky started to reply, “No, that’s okay. We can get a taxi.”

“Okay. You can join me in my taxi. My husband drives one, and he’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Your husband, huh?” I smiled, and looked toward my partner, who I was getting ready to tease. After one look at his face, I stopped short on the teasing. Though surprised himself that his almost-conquest was married, he also seemed totally disinterested. It was time to get my buddy home and tuck him in.

“Hutch, take the lady up on her offer. You can get the car looked at tomorrow. Nobody’ll be interested in that tub. It’s safe here. It’s safe anywhere.” I would say today was Starsky’s lucky day, because this was a second thing that I wouldn’t bother him about today. But it really wasn’t Starsky’s lucky day.

“Okay, Betty, we’re all yours.” She smiled at me, and this time I really did feel like smiling back.

Within twenty-five minutes we were in Betty and Bob’s cab and on our way to Venice Place. Starsky was settled in, comfortably leaning his head on my shoulder and holding his right arm. He had a sling, but the jostling of the car made it necessary for him to hold onto the arm as well. He was semi-asleep, and groaned a couple of times. He seemed to be radiating heat, and I felt his forehead. He was warm and sweating a little.

“Betty, he seems a little hot. Is that a problem?” I was worried that maybe Starsky had been released too soon.

“The doctor didn’t mention that to you? It’s on his release instructions. He may have a slight fever until the antibiotics really kick in. We’ll stop at the pharmacy and get your prescriptions filled before we drop you off.”

“Thanks, Betty.” I noticed a slight accent when she spoke. “Um, you’re not from these parts, are you?” I asked, wanting to be friendly. I also knew that speaking softly had a slight sedative effect on my partner. We would often be in the middle of a conversation on a stakeout, speaking softly in the car, when suddenly I would hear soft snoring coming from him. He never seemed to catch on, although you’d think he’d wonder about all those unfinished conversations.

“Nope. We’re from South Carolina, low country born and bred.”

“Pretty country. What brought you all the way out to the opposite coast?” I always marveled at the reasons people had for moving away from their roots. I felt I had good reason to leave mine.

“Yeah, it is pretty country. And we go back every year to visit family, not in the summer, though. It’s unbearable there in the summer.” Betty still hadn’t provided her reason for moving to California.

“And now you’re in California.” I said, hoping to hear more of the story.

“Yeah. We just up and moved. I got on a game show and got lucky. Won a bunch of money and Bob and I talked about where we wanted to live. It had to be some place warm most of the year. I mean, South Carolina is horrible in the summer, but we were used to warmth and couldn’t see moving to some place like Minnesota or nothing.”

“I can only imagine.” I responded wryly. Starsky sunk further down and moaned again, the movement not quite waking him. His head was now comfortably positioned on my lap, his legs curled up, his right arm held tightly against his body. My arm rested on his stomach, partly to keep him secure should there be any fast stops, but mostly for comfort and reassurance for my aching partner.

“He’s going to be sore for a while. It was a pretty deep cut. He’s had some serious injuries; we noticed the scars as we were treating him.” Hutch could tell that Betty was curious. She had obviously not been on staff long if she didn’t know Starsky’s history.

“Yeah, well, we’re cops. It’s what we live with. But Starsky has been particularly unlucky where on the job injuries are concerned. And he survived an assassination attempt. He went into cardiac arrest and they thought he wouldn’t survive. They also thought he wouldn’t make it back to being a cop. Everybody was wrong, I’m grateful to say.”

“You’re very close. I haven’t seen that kind of relationship before. We treat a lot of cops, firemen. I can’t say that I’ve seen any of them react to each other the way you guys do.” I’m not sure what she was looking for here. Maybe she just wanted to chat, I don’t know.

“I love him.” I looked up and saw Bob staring at me in the rearview mirror. “And he loves me. We’ve been partners a long time and we’re best friends. I guess all those things coming together don’t happen very often.”

“I guess not. It’s a shame it doesn’t happen more.” Bob said as he continued to drive us home.

We stopped for Starsky’s prescriptions and Bob and Betty helped me get Starsky out of the car and over to the entrance to Venice Place.

“Thanks so much for your help today.” I shook hands with Bob and Betty reached up and gave me a kiss. Starsky was leaning pretty heavily into me and I could tell I wouldn’t be able to keep him upright much longer.

“You take care of yourself, David. Let Ken here take care of you, too. You’ll be back in fine form in no time, so long as you listen to your partner.” She leaned over and gave Starsky a quick kiss.

“Thanks, Nurse Betty. And thanks for the ride, I really feel like I caught a break today.” I looked at him like he was delirious. Betty put voice to what I was thinking.

“You got knifed and you had to wait a half an hour longer at the hospital for a ride and you think that you caught a break today?” Betty couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yeah, but I got a ride in a nice taxi. You haven’t seen that bucket of bolts he calls a car!”

The End