Saturday in The Park

74

Hutch is having a bad day.

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“Ouuuuch.” Uh oh, that was definitely a whine. This was probably the last straw for my partner today.

“Hutch, come on, don’t touch it. Let’s get you home and we can take care of it there.” My partner was not in a good mood, and he had every right. Hutch and I spent the afternoon in the park, working on our tans, playing Frisbee and eating and drinking from the great feast in the cooler that Huggy prepared for us. It was supposed to have been fun and relaxing, just what the doctor ordered. And it would have been, if it weren’t for Hutch the klutz.

You see, I had been down and out for a few days last week with this nasty viral thing, throwing up all day and night. It was ugly, and poor Hutch stayed with me whenever he wasn’t on duty. Hutch is a real worrywart, and his hovering can still be pretty unbearable even though it had been over two years since the shooting. But it felt nice having him with me this time, even though toward the end I admit I was ready for him to move back to Venice Place.

Anyway, we got called in on an assignment while Hutch and I were on our way home from testifying in court last week. I was still sick as a dog, but Captain Dobey needed us and I couldn’t see not taking the call. It made Hutch mad, of course, but we got through it fine. Well, I didn’t get through it without throwing up, but the case was resolved anyway.

Dobey told me I shouldn’t come back until I was really fully recovered, so that put me at home for another three days, five days total including the weekend. I went back to work. I still felt like crap, but I wasn’t throwing up anymore. Dobey gave me one look, then turned to my partner and said, “What is he doin’ here? He looks like hell. Get him out of here. And you,” meaning Hutch, “take the rest of the week off. You’ve put way over forty hours in this week. And feed him,” he was pointing at me now, “he looks like death warmed over.”

“You sure, Captain?” I looked at Hutch like he was insane. I mean, I know I’ve been out of it a lot this last week or so, but I know that Hutch has been working his tail off. My mom always told me to never look a gift equus in the mouth. My mom loves Scrabble.

Dobey was getting a little irritated, and he kept looking at me funny. “Yes, I’m sure. Now grab him before he falls down and get the hell out of here!”

So Hutch helped me recuperate. He knew I wouldn’t eat if he wasn’t around, and eating was what got my strength back up enough to really, finally fight this thing.

By Saturday, I was feeling just about back to normal and we were both feeling very claustrophobic in my apartment, so Hutch decided what we were going to do for the day.

“I just got off the phone with Huggy,” he said as I stepped out of the bathroom, toweling off my hair. “He’s going to pack us a lunch and we’re getting out of this apartment.”

“Thank God,” I said. I was feeling totally stir crazy, and Hutch was really, really getting on my nerves. Really.

“What do you mean by that?” Blondie asked. Do you think maybe he was reading my mind and heard what I was thinking about him getting on my very last nerve?

“Well, you know, we can get out, get some fresh air. Get some sun, hm?” I think I covered okay, because Hutch walked up to me and said, “Yeah, buddy. Now that you’re not looking like ‘death warmed over’, we need to put a little color back in those cheeks.” He slapped my cheek a little more firmly than necessary. I think maybe he had read my mind.

We took Hutch’s tub, even though he knew how I felt about being seen in that thing. But he was running the show today, so I reluctantly agreed. We detoured to pick up the food at The Pits and then headed to the park. We got there around mid morning and it was a beautiful morning, not too hot yet, and the weatherman on the radio had assured us that there wouldn’t be too much heat today.

We headed to the trunk to grab the cooler, blanket and a bagful of stuff to keep us occupied—books, games, the Frisbee. Hutch had been looking ahead, eyeing up the area for a nice spot. We’d gotten there so early, we had pick of the spots. But because he was looking up, he didn’t see the railroad tie that we needed to step over, and he almost fell, taking the cooler and me with him.

“Walk much?” I asked. “It’s pretty easy, just one foot in front of the other, step over obstacles that are in your path. I’d have thought you would have learned that in the police academy, if not before.”

“You’re a real comedian, Starsk.”

“Yeah, well, watch your step, will ya? I don’t wanna lose all these good eats just because you can’t stay on your feets.” Hutch rolled his eyes, as expected. I could tell he was thinking of a way of getting back at me for the comments about his clumsiness. I decided I’d better stay alert for any funny business.

We found a nice spot near a tree that would give us some dappled shade once the sun got high in the sky. We laid out the blanket and set the cooler near one end. I would have been happy to sit and relax for a second, watching the scenery, but Hutch had other ideas.

“Starsk, grab the Frisbee and let’s head over to the beach.” He had challenge written all over his face.

“You sure you got your land legs, buddy. Don’t want you topplin’ over some long-legged beauty out there. That’d be pretty embarrassing.”

“I’m ready for anything you got.” Oh yeah, we were going to have some fun.

We tossed the Frisbee back and forth on the walk over to the beach, watching carefully that we didn’t throw it into the path of sunbathers and picnickers. The sunshine was dazzling; we weren’t being blessed with the ever-present smog that usually haunts us in southern California. There was no breeze and we certainly didn’t need it. It was a picture perfect day. Great for picnicking, great for playing, a little too cool for swimming, but that was okay. We’d packed plenty of stuff to keep us busy.

I think I’d started to daydream because I was suddenly hit in the face with the Frisbee. I guess Hutch was serious about wanting to get started.

“Hey, you could knock an eye out with that thing.” I complained as I walked along the beach, trailing my partner in crime.

“Yeah, it’s got real sharp edges, Starsk. You need some first aid?” Hutch was being a real smart ass.

“Nah, I’m fine. I can beat your ass in Frisbee tossin’ with my eyes closed.” I guess that was probably an exaggeration. Hutch laughed and seemed really happy. It’d been awhile since I’d seen that face without worry lines.

It was best that we get a feel for the disc before we started in hot and heavy on any competition. Hutch and I could be real competitive, and that competitive streak sometimes manifested itself in a negative way, like with that stupid hide and seek game where Hutch came so close to dying from botulism. Or like with Kira.

To be honest, I didn’t even want Hutch to throw it off target. I normally would because it would give me a reason to strike up a conversation with one of the pretty, leggy beauties dotted around the park. But I really didn’t want that today. I wanted nothing more than to spend some quality time with my best friend. We had come off a long stretch of some pretty intense cases, and then I got sick. Between him working long hours and me being sick all week, we really hadn’t had a chance to just spend some time together and have fun.

But I think Hutch had other ideas about how he wanted to play.

We had been tossing the Frisbee for a bit when suddenly Hutch heaved the thing hard and fast and it took a trajectory that was going to take it way over my head. I put all I had into my jump, and I was just able to grab it with my flying leap before it went zooming over toward a family picnic.

“That’s nice, Hutch. I hope you’re ready to play hard, buddy-boy.”

“Give me your best shot dirtball.” I had the disc in my hand and although I made it look like I might send the Frisbee toward his left, I actually used some clever misdirection and heaved it right. He had started left already and had to make a quick correction to head over to where the Frisbee was actually heading. Unfortunately, my misdirection seemed to work on some people watching, as they started walking right in the path for which Hutch was quickly changing direction. It happened so fast I only had time to yell Hutch’s name, but that was enough for him to turn and catch sight of the little boy who he was going to collide with. Somehow, Hutch was able to shift his body enough to avoid the collision, but he was dangerously off balance and ended up slamming hard into the sandy beach, square on his back.

I ran to him, as he had hit pretty hard and he wasn’t moving. He avoided the little kid, and the kid’s parents were hovering near Hutch, too, not sure what to do. The little boy was near Hutch’s head and he bent down and said, “Hey mister, are you okay?” I didn’t hear an answer and was really concerned now that Blondie might really be hurt. That he might have caused some serious injury to his back or head.

I slid to a stop, which kicked dirt up and some of it sprayed over Hutch’s chest. We had both taken our shirts off once the real Frisbee playing started. I took a close look around his head to see if maybe he’d knocked it on something when he landed.

“Hutch?” I asked. My voice was a little shaky. I know I tend to get nervous when Hutch gets hurt, but I needed to keep it together here. A small crowd had gathered now, too. That was just what I needed.

“Hutch, are you okay?” I reached for his face and neck and felt gently for any bumps or bleeding. I also brushed the sand off his face and hair as best I could. “Hutch, can ya wake up, buddy?” What was going on here? I was about ready to have somebody call for an ambulance when I finally heard a noise from my partner.

“Uhhh.” That was better than nothing. Then he took a huge breath and I realized that he’d probably just had the wind knocked out of him.

“Hey, you okay? Take it easy, just relax.” He wasn’t trying to get up, but he’d finally opened his eyes and looked at me and then with his teeth clenched he said, “So you even double clutch when playing Frisbee, huh?”

I have to tell you, hearing that felt like a bullet going through my chest, and I know whereof I speak. My whole body tensed up. And just like Hutch had the wind knocked out of him, I felt it getting a little hard to breathe. But I knew that I had to make sure that Hutch was okay before I started to think about what he’d just said.

You see, a few years back Hutch and I had a pretty bad accident. We were chasing some suspects in a robbery and they made a pretty good move on me and to avoid hitting a truck I had to veer off the highway and we barreled hard into a construction site. I got knocked around a bit, but Hutch got the brunt of the injuries, and he decided to play a little trick on me by faking amnesia.

He’d blamed me for the accident and getting him hurt so badly and he wanted to “teach me a lesson.” Well, he was pretty convincing, it was a great performance, and I thought I was going to lose my partner and best friend for good. It was one of the scariest times I’ve ever been through, even though I tried to project calm so as not to aggravate him. I tried to get him to remember some of the stuff we’d been through as partners, friends, but it didn’t seem to work. Not until I started talking about Terry did he seem to come around, and that’s when he told me he was faking it. He said it would teach me to double clutch him into a truck.

I looked up and saw what I would describe as fear in Hutch’s face. I guess he’d realized the impact of his comment, because he was reaching up to me and although he still hadn’t got his second wind he was trying to talk to me. He grabbed my arm and rubbed it and said between heavy breaths, “Hey… I was just kidding… you know that, right? It was a joke.” He looked really upset, and I knew at that point that he really didn’t mean it. He knows, though, that I have lingering guilt over that episode in our past and I tend to take things real personal. But I didn’t want him worrying about me when he was still laying flat on his back.

“Hey, I know you were kidding,” I lied. “Come on, let’s get you sittin’ up, make sure you’re okay. You are okay, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Here, help me up.” He reached his hand over, and I pulled him up as we both stood up. “Hm, how’d I get all this sand on me?”

“I mighta kicked some up on you when I reached ya. Sorry.” This day wasn’t turning out quite right.

“Hey, that’s all right. Here,” and before I had a chance to look back up, I had a handful of sand thrown at me from the big blond. He must have been feeling better, because he quickly picked up the Frisbee and ran for his life toward our blanket. I looked over at the kid and his family and said, “I guess he’s feeling better,” and I took off after the blond lightning.

By the time I reached the blanket, Hutch had made himself comfortable and was sitting with a beer between his legs and was offering one up to me. I grabbed it and said, “You cheat.”

“Oh, and that fake left wasn’t cheating?” He was laughing and I loved seeing and hearing that laugh. I tousled his already messy hair and sat cross-legged across from him on the blanket.

“No, that was pure strategy and skill. Maybe it’ll teach you to pay better attention. Good thing you don’t react like that on the streets.”

“I suppose I deserve that, payback for the double clutch joke.” Boy, it didn’t take much to send Hutch on a guilt trip.

“No, dummy, that was just a joke, too. Do you think we’re just gettin’ overly sensitive in our old age?” I didn’t think we were, but it was weird how we both managed to say something to upset the other today.

“No.” Hutch sat for a moment, considering. “Think maybe we can chalk it up to a stressful week for both of us?” I definitely did. I nodded my agreement and decided to move on to more important matters.

“You hungry?” It was about eleven thirty and even if he wasn’t hungry I’m pretty sure he would agree to eat, since we were back near the food. And I was hungry, so it made sense to get started, right?

“Sure Gordo, whatcha got in there?”

“Let’s see, looks like we got some sandwiches and a coupla salads to start. Hey, look at this. Huggy put real plates and napkins in here. And glasses? What’d he think, we were on a date or something?”

“Could be.” I looked at him. We smiled at each other. We knew the talk that went on at the precinct, it had been going on ever since the academy. I mean, not us, together, but the talk. It hasn’t been a big deal for us. The only thing that they talk about that doesn’t happen between us is the necking and the sex. We probably love each other more than most husbands and wives. So we just go with the flow. We never feel the need to deny anything, I mean, with our reputations with the ladies.

“Well babe, today you are my idea of the perfect date. Cheers.” We clinked our beer bottles together and took a good swig before diving into the food.

“Thanks, honey. So, what kinds of sandwiches are in there?” I took a look at the labels; Huggy was nothing if not efficient in his packaging. “Roast beef and Swiss with tomato, onion and honey mustard. That’s mine.” That brought another roll of the eyes from my partner.

“Hey, you know I like roast beef. Do you really think Huggy made this sandwich for you, mister bean sprouts, desiccated wheat germ, dried goats hair weirdo that you are?”

“Probably not.” That was easier than I thought. I read the next label, “Goat’s cheese, see, I knew there’d be a Hutchinson special in here. Goat’s cheese with arugula—what’s arugula—roasted peppers and avocado. Yuck. Here.” I handed it to him. He had a smile on his face and he was shaking his head. “What?”

“I asked Huggy to put something together to get just that reaction from you. You know, buddy, you’re pretty predictable.” When it came to food, he was absolutely right.

“Yeah, whatever.” I scooped up some potato salad and fruit salad and put it on a plate. I handed it, a fork and a napkin to Hutch. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my own food, but he looked so comfortable up against the tree I didn’t want him to bother moving—not like he had made any effort to help.

He placed his sandwich on his plate; both his hands were now occupied, when suddenly the beer that had been leaning against the inside of his knee started to tip over toward his crotch. He started to fumble with the plate, trying not to spill all the food, in an effort to re-arrange his hands to grab for the beer. My hands were unoccupied, so I grabbed for the beer, but tripped a little on the blanket and ended up flying, my head aiming for a precarious position between Hutch’s legs. Hutch pulled back in an effort to give me more room to land and to avoid such an embarrassing spectacle in public, and all of his food flew, his beer fell, as expected, and he knocked his head hard into the tree.

Ouch!

I did a push up and looked up to see what was going on with my partner. I had heard his head whack against the tree, so once again today I would be heading to look at that hard head. He had pasta salad and fruit all over him, but his sandwich had landed unscathed on his left leg. I grabbed it and placed it out of harm’s way and scrambled up. I heard laughter all around us and knew that we’d just given some people in the park their free entertainment for the day. I grinned as my eyes met Blondie’s. He looked okay, just a little messy.

“Jeez, you’re a klutz sitting down, too. Wouldn’t think that was possible, except I know you so I don’t know why I’m surprised. Your head all right?” I moved his head away from the tree and took a look. He was probably going to develop a lump, but the skin wasn’t broken. His eyes were clear, although his expression lacked the smile from moments earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, leave it alone, will ya.” He was a little grumpy now, and it was only noon.

“All right. Let’s see what Huggy packed in here for cleaning up. Hopefully there’s a big bath towel in here.” No roll of the eyes this time. “I guess you’re lucky you didn’t put your shirt back on yet, huh?”

“You know, Starsk, you’re really not as funny as you think. You realize that most of the laughter that follows you is at your expense, don’t you?”

“You could be right, Hutch, but I like to think that the laughter is putting a bright spot in someone’s otherwise boring, mundane day. Here, Hug put some wet cloths in a plastic bag. Man, he really thought of everything, didn’t he?”

“Do you think he packed some cigarettes?” What was Hutch talking about? I looked at him quizzically, and he burst out laughing.

“What?” I must have missed something.

“Starsk? You know, for later? After we’ve…” He wiggled his eyebrows knowingly. Ohhhh, I got it.

“Nah, don’t need ’em. If we did it, the whole room would be on fire.” And I wiggled my eyebrows right back at him.

We both laughed for a while at that while Hutch continued to clean himself up and I started on my roast beef. The day was looking better. I figured Hutch had all the mishaps he was going to have for this Saturday. What was I thinking?

We finished lunch. The weatherman was right, it really was one of the prettiest days in recent memory. We drank a little more and it got just a little too comfortable on that blanket to get up and do anything at all physical. We played a few games of chess. Hutch and I really shouldn’t play chess anymore. There’s no way he can beat me, not unless he figures out a way to shut my mouth.

“Check.” Hutch had to know that move was going to do him in. I think he was tired of losing, so I quickly put him out of his misery.

“Checkmate, pal. Had enough?” Yep, I could read him like a book.

“I give up officer. Take me in.” He held out his wrists, together, like I was supposed to put handcuffs on him.

“We’ll save them for later, Blondie.”

“Oh. Right.” And he sent a big wink my way. What a goof.

There was a mess of plates and bowls and stuff all around us and it was starting to draw bees. Hutch was leaning back against the tree re-reading “To Kill a Mockingbird.” It was one of his favorite books and he was truly captivated by what he was reading, so I got up and started to clean everything up. “Want some help?” he asked disinterested and completely without feeling. I ignored him.

I had to shoo away a bunch of bees and bugs while I put all the plates, bowls and utensils back in the cooler. I grabbed everything that could be thrown away and stood, looking for a trashcan.

“Hey, Hutch, I’ll be right back.” I walked to the nearest trashcan and tossed everything. As I approached our blanket, I noticed Hutch leaning away from the tree, his hand over his left eye. I got up close and kneeled in front of him.

“Whassamatter?” He didn’t look up and he didn’t remove the hand. “Here, move your hand, what’s wrong?” I tried to peel his hand away, but he had it firm up against his eye. And he was obviously in pain. I was starting to think that he’d burst a blood vessel or something, but I guess maybe there would have been blood if that had happened. I didn’t know, but I was getting real worried again. Finally, Hutch spoke.

“Ouch! Dammit.” He took the hand away and the entire left side of his face was bright pink, with a white bump just below his left eye, high up on his cheek.

“Wow. Bit by a bee, huh? Looks painful.” It really did. “Um, are you allergic to bee bites, because that’s quite a reaction so quickly. I don’t remember ever seeing you look like this after a bee bite before.” I fished out one of the unused towels that Huggy had packed for us for Hutch to use as a compress. I handed it to him and then quickly threw everything on the blankets in its appropriate place so we could get out of there quickly.

“Ouuuuch.” I didn’t want him passing out on me and he still hadn’t answered my question. He started poking at it with his fingers.

“Hutch, come on, don’t touch it. Let’s get you home and we can take care of it there.”

“You don’t have to worry, Starsk. I don’t have seizures or anything. It just looks real bad.”

“Okay.”

“And hurts.” He was looking like a sad little boy.

“Sometimes I get nauseous.” Uh oh. I looked at him closely. “I’m not right now.”

“Let’s get going and we’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way home and see what we should pick up to make you feel better, okay buddy?”

“Okay.” Hutch continued to hold the compress to his face while I gave him a hand up. I carried the blanket and the bag of stuff and one end of the cooler while Hutch grabbed the other and we headed back to the car. We got the stuff in the car, and Hutch headed for the passenger side.

“Sorry.” I heard from the passenger seat.

“Sorry about what?” I asked, reaching over and massaging Hutch’s neck. His muscles were tense, and I could feel the warmth from the redness on his face.

“Making you drive my car.” He was right, he owed me one for this.

“That’s okay, Blintz. You can hand wash and wax my car as payment.” He took the compress off to allow for the full effect of the Hutchinson glare.

“Oooh. Ouch. Put that back on your face. It looks painful.” I knew that it was. I felt bad for him. He must have felt like this was the Saturday from hell.

“It is.” And that was the last thing he said for the rest of the ride. I stopped at the pharmacy and they gave me a cream antihistamine that would help cool the area and relieve the pain. The pharmacist also gave me a brochure on allergic reactions just in case Hutch had something more than nausea from this bee sting.

I got him into my apartment and we went immediately into the bathroom and carefully used a cold compress to clean the wound. Hutch was acting a little strangely, kind of embarrassed about my helping him out. I daubed the cream on and made him lay down in the bed. He was real quiet through the whole thing and he was starting to piss me off with this attitude.

I went back to the bathroom and grabbed some aspirin and then headed to the kitchen for a glass of ice water. I took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom. I set the glass on the table, sat on the side of the bed and stared at my partner. He was staring at the ceiling but I figured he couldn’t ignore me forever. He finally looked my way.

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” I gave it my best shot, continuing to stare into his eyes, daring him to try and look away. I had to give him credit. He wasn’t looking away, but he wasn’t talking either. I shook my head, grabbed his hand and placed the pills in it. “Take these.” I handed him the water. He drank it down gratefully and reached to put the glass down.

I grabbed it angrily from his hand and stalked out of the room. It bothered the hell out of me when he did this. It was okay for him to care for me when I was sick, or hurt. But he resisted the same comfort and concern when I tried to reciprocate. I didn’t get it. We were closer than any two people I knew. And I know a lot of Hutch’s problem goes back to his problems with his family. Somehow every time I think we’ve gotten past this, it rears its ugly head. But two things were certain: he didn’t have to accept my help and I didn’t have to stand there and accept the slap in the face.

I grabbed a book and slouched on the couch, not really interested in the novel I’d grabbed. I put my head back and closed my eyes. Maybe I should just sleep it off. I knew myself almost as well as I knew Hutch; I’d forgive and forget about the slight by morning.

I hadn’t fallen asleep and I suddenly sensed a presence in the room.

I opened my eyes and saw Hutch standing between the living room and bedroom, just staring at me.

“Something wrong? You feelin’ sick?” He didn’t look good, which I could attribute mostly to the distorted coloring on his face. But he didn’t look like he was going to throw up either.

“No. Just tired.”

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” I sat up on the couch, wondering what was going on in that head of his.

“Wanted to say I’m sorry. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. Forgive me?” Aw, Hutch, you big softie.

“Already did.” I got up and walked towards him, a big yawn accompanying my last strides to my partner.

“I’m tired, too.” He smiled.

“Well, you had a big day little boy. Let’s go tuck you in.” I pushed him back into the bedroom and made sure he was comfortable in bed before I turned to leave.

“Starsk, why don’t you sleep here? You’ll sleep better in your own bed, and there’s plenty of room.”

“Are you propositioning me, Detective?” I grinned as Hutch started to laugh, stifling a yawn at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m offering you half of the bed. And don’t steal all the covers.”

“Hutch, you know it’s only four o’clock, right?” I kicked my shoes off and yawned for about the fifth time since walking back into the bedroom.

“Uh huh. Can ya pull the blinds, babe?”

“You’re so romantic, Blondie.”

“Um hmm.” Hutch would be asleep in about two minutes, no more. I crawled under the covers and lay there thinking about our relationship. I could understand why people might think we were a couple and for some reason it didn’t bother me at all. A couple could only hope to have what Hutch and I have in our relationship. The deep feelings we have for each other is a gift, we know that. Life without him would be, well it wouldn’t be a life that I would want to hang around in for too long.

The bed shifted and Hutch moved over on his right side and threw his left arm on my chest. I chuckled. If only Dobey could see us now.

The End