Why was Hutch so well prepared to play guitar on stage while undercover as C.W. Jackson? And why did Hutch decide to take Starsky’s place in the dance contest with Roxy?
Spoiler: All answers are about Starsky.
The tainted moonshine case was over quicker than Hutch expected, and except for the fact that a federal agent was killed and two men died drinking poisoned alcohol, he found it almost enjoyable.
For one thing, Hutch had a blast posing as C.W. Jackson and improvising on stage with the band. He certainly didn’t mind it when the bar owner introduced him as the hottest guitar picker this side of Bell County. If Starsky thought he was even a little bit hot, that was enough for him, and Starsky’s enthusiastic applause when he was introduced did not go unnoticed by Hutch.
He also quite enjoyed a drunk Starsky snuggling up to him in the Torino, giggling as he rested his head next to his thigh. Although Starsky was more than a little tipsy, Hutch got the impression that Starsky was enjoying the moment too. Those were some definite highlights of the last few days.
However, after the case was over, Hutch was feeling let down. Starsky was aggravated with him for crashing the motorcycle into the alcohol still and so he made Hutch look like a jerk in front of the judge. As if that wasn’t enough, Starsky didn’t appear as impressed with his guitar strumming skills as Hutch had hoped.
It wasn’t as though Hutch had planned all along to go undercover as a hot guitar picker. He wasn’t expecting to get up on stage this soon, and he felt he needed a little more practice. A different amateur night was coming up in Bay City at a place called the Blue Moon Hotel, and Hutch had been practicing for months.
Hutch played for the Blue Moon’s bartender and waitresses every Thursday night before the bar opened, explaining he wanted to work on his stage fright before the big night. That was true, but he also wanted to surprise Starsky and sing a special, romantic, love-confessing type song to him. And he wanted it to be perfect.
Hutch replayed the scene several times in his head. Starsky would be seated in the front row of the audience. Perhaps Starsky shed a few tears at the lyrics or sat transfixed in amazement and wonder, or simply lost himself in the sound of Hutch’s voice. In all cases, Starsky would understand that Hutch was singing to him and that the tender words were intended just for Starsky. And maybe, just maybe, Starsky would agree that they were meant to be together.
However, as is often the case with best-laid plans, things didn’t go as expected. After getting involved in the bad moonshine case, Hutch was forced to demonstrate his picking prowess a little earlier than expected, minus the romantic song and the love confession part.
It’s not that Starsky didn’t compliment Hutch and tell him he darn near knocked everyone’s socks off, but it wasn’t at all what Hutch had in mind after practicing at the Blue Moon every Thursday for three months.
It was also not in the plans for Starsky to talk exclusively about the lovely Roxy, their ill-fated dancing competition, and his foot injury, which he entirely blamed on Hutch.
So, when Roxy, with almond eyes and Ava Gardner’s mouth, came into the precinct searching for Starsky, Hutch couldn’t resist making a date with her. He knew it was petty and childish, but he didn’t care, and Roxy, who abandoned Starsky faster than whisky flowed at the Backwoods Inn, didn’t seem to care either.
If Hutch was honest, he set up the date with Roxy to both retaliate against Starsky for making him appear like a jerk in front of the judge and to make Starsky jealous. Hutch knew that was a ridiculous motive because he hadn’t even performed his love confession song yet, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
As expected, Starsky was upset by the news, telling Hutch that he didn’t even know how to foxtrot. His reaction was considerably more intense than Hutch expected, swinging one of his crutches at him, and if Hutch hadn’t known any better, Starsky might have come off as a jealous lover—at least, that’s how Hutch imagined he would act if he were.
What Starsky didn’t know, and what was meant to be a surprise, was that Hutch was not only practicing his singing and guitar playing to impress Starsky, but he was also working on his dance moves.
He stumbled into it one Thursday night while practicing at the Blue Moon. Lolitta, a former flamenco dancer from Mexico, happened to be the owner of the Blue Moon Hotel. Lolitta was in her mid-fifties, yet still as stunning as she had been in her youth. Her eyes were deep brown, her legs were long and thin, and her hair was wavy brown and fell down her back. She operated a dance studio above the hotel, and despite managing a restaurant and bar full-time, she had plenty of energy to teach dance lessons on the side.
Hutch had been practicing his song for a few weeks when Lolitta approached him and offered him some advice. “Your singing and guitar playing is better than you give yourself credit for, and you have a natural musical talent. You’re more than capable of performing in front of a large audience in my opinion. But if you truly want to stand out, you might think about focusing on your body language…your rhythm. You know, loosen up and dance a little on stage.”
Hutch flashed her a bashful smile, “I’m not trying to be the next John Denver or Barry Manilow or anything. I simply want to overcome my stage fright, and at the same time, tell someone very special how I feel about them. When it comes to dancing, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Let me ask you a question,” Lolitta said as she wiped off the empty tables, “Have you ever cooked a meal from scratch?”
“Sure, I have,” Hutch nodded. “Many times.”
“Has cooking always been something you knew how to do, or did it take a long time to learn?” Lolitta asked as she slung the damp towel over her shoulder.
Hutch cocked his head in thought. “It wasn’t something I knew how to do right away, but it didn’t take me long to learn. I just followed a recipe.”
Lolitta nodded. “So you see, if you can read, you can cook.”
Hutch remained skeptical. “Yes, but that’s different. Following a recipe is simply following steps that are laid out for you. It’s not hard to learn after that.”
“And dancing is just following steps laid out for you too. If you can count to eight, you can dance,” Lolitta rebutted.
“Count to eight? What does that mean?” Hutch asked.
“Take the foxtrot, for instance,” Lolitta said. “The rhythm is four-four time. A slow step is two counts, while a quick step is one count. When we do the eight-count pattern, it’s slow, quick, quick, slow, quick, quick. If you can count to eight, you can do the foxtrot!”
“I don’t know,” Hutch said. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about, but I’m afraid I’m a lost cause…”
“Nonsense,” Lolitta replied. “You’ll come up to my dance studio every Thursday from now on after you finish practicing your song, and I’ll teach you how to follow the recipe of dance!”
From then on, in addition to practicing his singing and playing guitar, Hutch spent Thursday evenings with Lolitta in her dance studio. She taught him how to feel the rhythm of the music and to let go of his self-consciousness.
As he spun her around the dance floor, he would often see Starsky’s face and body before him, his well-rounded bottom gyrating to the sexy salsa music, or his feet gliding effortlessly across the floor to the waltz or tango.
Hutch realized that dancing could be learned, even if he would never be Fred Astaire. It was a lot like learning to play the piano. While their pitches are different, seven white keys and five black ones repeat along the piano keyboard. All you had to do was memorize their locations and tell your fingers which ones to press and when. With dancing, all you had to do was figure out where to place your feet and when.
If you just focus on it, dancing couldn’t be more complicated than that.
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Hutch didn’t have much time before he had to pick up Roxy. He remembered that Starsky had said Roxy signed them up for the dance competition after they had a lot to drink one night, so as far as Hutch was concerned, his newly learned dance skills combined with getting a few drinks into Roxy might just be enough to get through the night unscathed.
Roxy instructed him to dress up, so Hutch donned his tuxedo, the one he recently obtained during a case when Starsky’s previous girlfriend happened to take a photo of a murder during a high society event. Roxy wore a low-cut, long black gown with spaghetti straps and a high side slit. They had a few drinks at her apartment to loosen up before going to the dance club. When they arrived, Roxy was giggling and grabbing onto Hutch’s arm.
Hutch scanned the crowd and noticed that others were dressed a lot less formally, in blazers and unbuttoned shirts, while some of the women were in short dresses or pants.
“Do you think we’re overdressed?” asked Hutch.
“Not at all, gorgeous. Everyone is watching us and noticing how great we look,” Roxy said, smiling at the crowd as they headed to the registration table. Hutch couldn’t argue. He and Roxy turned heads as they entered, looking like royalty dressed to the nines.
They headed to the dance floor, which was in the center of the room with a large disco ball hanging over it. The disc jockey was set up on a stage at the front of the floor, announcing songs and instructions over the microphone.
Hutch spotted a familiar face in the crowd. “Lolitta!” he said as he saw his private dance instructor come toward him. “What are you doing here?”
“Hutch!” Lolitta exclaimed. “I’m one of the judges.” She turned to Roxy, “Are you two entering the dance contest?”
Roxy giggled and slurred, “Yes, we are. I can’t wait to show off my moves with Hutch here. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Lolitta chuckled. “You both are. Good luck to you.” She turned and whispered to Hutch. “Is this the person you’ve been practicing your song for all this time?”
Hutch shook his head. “No, uh, it’s not. That person isn’t here tonight, which at this point, I’m starting to regret.”
“I see. Well, just remember to breathe and count to eight,” Lolitta said with a smile, heading back into the crowd.
“All contestants on the dance floor,” the disc jockey announced as the strobe lights came on.
“How does this work, anyway?’ Hutch asked Roxy as they entered the crowded dance floor.
“There are three judges who circle the floor,” Roxy explained. “If a judge touches a dancer on the shoulder during a song, it signals the couple’s elimination, and they leave the floor. The last couple on the floor is the winner.”
The first tune was fast, and Hutch took Roxy by the hand as she twisted and twirled her way in and out of his strong and steady arms. Much to his surprise, he didn’t miss a beat, counting five, six, seven, eight, twirl, spin, turn. Hutch ensured his posture was straight, his knees were bent, he kept smiling, and no matter what, he didn’t stop counting.
As the music reached its crescendo, it was time for a dip. Hutch reached his right hand out and gently placed it beneath Roxy’s head, holding her back steadily with his other arm.
As he dipped Roxy, Hutch saw a different face staring at him. It was his curly-haired, midnight blue-eyed, broad-smiling partner gazing up at him with love.
“You dip even better than Ramon,” said the face.
Hutch blinked and refocused just as Roxy smiled and bounced back up, jumping and clapping in delight.
“You’re a terrific dancer, Hutch!” she said excitedly. “We’re still in it!”
Hutch reciprocated the smile. They made it through several more songs, some fast and others with a moderate tempo, still requiring some hip action and twirls, but at least Hutch was able to catch his breath between twists and turns.
Roxy jumped again with excitement, happy they had so far not been eliminated. The next song was “Fever”, which Hutch immediately recognized as a song for the foxtrot.
Hutch began to count and concentrate on the beat. Slow, quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, as they made their way across the floor.
He gazed around the dance floor, feeling a little more at ease, and took in the crowd that had gathered. Only four dance couples remained, and he couldn’t believe his inexperience and Roxy’s tipsy dance routine had gotten them this far.
As the spectators cheered and applauded, Hutch realized that dancing was more work than he thought it would be, and until now, didn’t appreciate how naturally it came to Starsky. Starsky could dance to anything, and Hutch didn’t mind watching him from afar whenever he did.
Thoughts of Starsky made Hutch silently wish he was home playing chess, watching television, or simply enjoying a beer with him.
He squinted as he scanned the crowd, the room barely illuminated by the huge disco ball. He thought he spotted a dark-haired man standing near the bar at the back with a cane in one hand and a beer in the other. Hutch blinked, the man’s curly hair and easy smile reminding him too much of Starsky.
Hutch came back into focus. Five, six, seven, eight.
His mind must have been playing tricks on him. He thought he saw Starsky as Ramon earlier. Was he seeing Starsky in every face in the crowd?
Six, seven, eight. Wait, where was he again?
Slow, quick, quick. Or was it quick, slow, slow?
Was he on count six or seven?
He turned his head again, seeing the shape of the same man bouncing to the music with a brilliant wide smile.
Roxy whispered, “Hutch, what’s going on? You almost stepped on my foot?” Hutch turned to face her and cleared his throat, “Sorry, honey, I lost count there for a second.
Four, five, six.
”I just need to get my rhythm back.”
Seven eight.
“Hutch, watch out, we almost bumped into that other couple!” Roxy said. “I think the foxtrot is not your thing, honey.”
“I’m sorry,” Hutch apologized, tripping once more over his own feet.
Hutch took another look at the audience. Most of them were swaying to the music, smiling and cheering on the contestants. The man at the bar was gone, and Hutch felt a twinge of regret. Even though he knew it couldn’t be Starsky, he wished it was.
Then he felt it, the tap on his shoulder. “Sorry, Hutch, you and your dance partner had a really good run, but I’m afraid your time is up,” Lolitta said regretfully.
“I’m sorry, Roxy, this is my fault,” Hutch started to say.
Roxy smiled. “Are you kidding? We were the fourth-to-last couple on the dance floor! I didn’t expect to get that far even with… wait, it’s Dave!” she exclaimed.
“Dave?” Hutch asked, turning around. “Starsk?”
“Hey,” said Starsky, leaning on his cane and greeting them both. “You were terrific.” Roxy threw her arms around Starsky’s neck. “I missed you! But Hutch here was fantastic!”
Starsky’s eyes raked Hutch up and down, then locked his gaze. “Yes, he was fantastic.”
Hutch felt his cheeks flush as he looked at his shoes. He lifted his eyes and saw Starsky’s eyes twinkling right back at him.
“Hey buddy,” Hutch said. “What are you doing here? Is your foot okay?”
“My foot is fine. The doctor said I won’t even need the cane in a couple of days,” Starsky said, his gaze not moving from Hutch. “I thought I’d come to check out you and Roxy, you know, see what I was missing.”
Roxy giggled. “You missed a great night.” She leaned over and kissed Hutch on the cheek. “Hey boys, I’m going to head over to the bar and get another drink.” She turned and kissed Starsky on the cheek. “You’re both fantastic.”
Starsky smiled at Roxy and turned back to Hutch with a look of desire that Hutch only saw in his dreams. Hutch thought his mind was playing tricks on him again and had to be sure. “Maybe you should go after her, Starsk. I’ll bet Roxy is glad you’re here, and wouldn’t mind if you took her home.”
Starsky shrugged, and before he could answer, the crowd went wild with applause, as the final couple on the dance floor was crowned the winners. Lolitta finished congratulating them and came over to stand next to Hutch.
“Lolitta, I’d like you to meet my partner, Dave Starsky,” Hutch said.
Starsky reached out to kiss her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Lolitta.”
“You are Hutch’s partner?” Lolitta said, then glanced at Hutch. “The one you told me about?” Hutch felt his cheeks turn pink.
“You told the dance judge about me, Hutch?” Starsky said curiously.
Lolitta looked at Hutch and whispered, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. But it’s so obvious from the way you look at him.”
Hutch looked at Starsky, who was swaying to the music, engrossed in watching the winning couple take another bow.
“Is it that obvious?” Hutch whispered to Lolitta, taking the handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow.
“Only because I am already aware that you have a secret love, my dear,” Lolitta assured him. “But I think it’s time.”
“Time for what?” Hutch asked, his hanky now wiping the back of his neck. Lolitta gave him a knowing wink. “Time for you to sing.”
“Sing?” Hutch stammered. “Amateur night is still a couple of weeks away. I need more practice,” he insisted.
Lolitta smiled and said, “I believe the D.J. has a guitar. The crowd could use a slow dance after all these wild gyrations.”
“But…” Hutch said one last time as Lolitta took off toward the disc jockey.
“What was that all about?” Starsky asked, the twinkle still in his eyes.
“I, um, well, you see, Starsk…” Hutch’s words were cut off by the disc jockey.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat tonight. One of our dance contestants has agreed to sing a slow song, and I welcome everyone to grab their partner and come up on the dance floor. Please give a round of applause for one-half of our fourth-place winning couple tonight, Ken Hutchinson.”
Starsky’s eyes widened, followed up by a roaring cheer.
Hutch gazed at Starsky and began to relax. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, maybe his entire life. He walked up to the disc jockey’s stage and picked up the guitar that was leaning against a stool. Hutch sat down and adjusted the microphone for his height.
“Tonight, I’d like to sing a song that I’ve been practicing for a while. It’s called “Make It With You’ by the band “Bread.”
Hutch searched the crowd for Starsky, easily locating him near the front, Lolitta standing next to him with a hand on Starsky’s shoulder. Hutch locked his gaze with Starsky and began to play.
The dance floor filled up with couples, some holding each other tight, others spinning their partners to the slow music. It didn’t matter to Hutch. He barely saw the crowd at all, as all of his stage fright melted away.
The singing came easily to him, and Hutch felt more relaxed on stage than he ever thought he could, a smile as wide as the Mason-Dixon line spreading across his face. Starsky returned the smile, just as Hutch imagined he would.
Hutch strummed the final chord and closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, the magnificent feeling of his love confession finally being set free.
When he opened his eyes, Starsky was standing next to him on stage, grinning from ear to ear. He tilted his head and signaled to Hutch to meet him outside where it was quieter.
Hutch put down the guitar and took a final bow, then saw Lolitta, who smiled up at him, her hands clasped together and a smile on her face. “Go to him,” she said. “I’ll make sure Roxy gets home safe.”
Hutch beamed and mouthed the words ‘thank you”, then headed outside. What he would find, he wasn’t sure, but there was no more time or reason to wonder.
As he stepped into the coolness of the night air, Hutch loosened his tie and took a deep breath, looking around for his partner. He suddenly felt two hands on his waist, pulling him behind a wall into the darkness.
“That was beautiful,” Starsky said, as he gently pushed Hutch against the wall. Hutch was sure he could see moisture in Starsky’s moonlit blue eyes.
“Are you saying what I hope you’re saying?” Hutch asked, letting Starsky’s fingers roam through his fine, soft hair.
“I want to make it with you too,” Starsky replied. “I love you.”
Starsky pressed his body against Hutch’s and their lips collided, the feel of Starsky’s lips sending Hutch to the moon, the kiss more glorious than Hutch had ever dreamed.
As they came up for air, Hutch raked his hands through Starsky’s curls and watched in awe as beams of moonlight danced across Starsky’s smiling face.
“You’re not mad about Roxy?” Hutch had to know.
“Are you kidding me?” Starsky said, shaking his head. “Roxy doesn’t hold a candle to you. She never did. Neither did anyone else, for that matter. Just how long have you been practicing that song anyways?”
“For a few months. I wasn’t expecting to sing it tonight. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“Believe me, Hutch, it was perfect. Now let’s go home, partner. You can sing that song to me again and again, forever if you like. But it will never be more perfect than tonight.”
“I love you,” Hutch whispered in Starsky’s ear.
Starsky smiled, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Hutch inhaled deeply, grinned, and followed, thinking about moonlight and moonshine, twirling and dipping, breathing and counting, and how happy it would make him to sing, dance, dip, and foxtrot with Starsky for the rest of his life.
“Make It With You.” By Bread
As sung by Hutch to Starsky.
Hey, have you ever tried
Really reaching out for the other side?
I may be climbing on rainbows
But baby, here goes
Dreams, they’re for those who sleep
Life is for us to keep
And if you’re wondering what this song is leading to
I want to make it with you
I really think that we could make it, babe
No, you don’t know me well
In every little thing, only time will tell
But you believe the things that I do
And we’ll see it through
Life can be short or long
Love can be right or wrong
And if I chose the one I’d like to help me through
I’d like to make it with you
I really think that we could make it, babe
Baby, you know that dreams, they’re for those who sleep
Life, it’s for us to keep
And if I chose the one I’d like to help me through
I’d like to make it with you
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