AFTERMATH

114

Some missing scenes taking place after the end of Voodoo Island. Starsky starts to piece together some memories of what happened ion the clifftop and is worried it isn’t just a dream.

First published 2021.

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Hutch tried to concentrate on reading his book but it was difficult when Starsky kept grabbing his arm every time Rodan or Godzilla appeared on the screen. He would never understand how his partner could watch the same dire monster movies and still get excited by the less than stellar plots. But that was his partner – just a big kid sometimes.

He smiled to himself and re-read the same paragraph for the third time. Gradually, he lost himself in the novel as the in-flight movie came to a close and Starsky settled down, quietly looking out of the window into the darkness.

Hutch came to the end of a chapter and decided to take a break from reading. All around him people were settling down to sleep, one by one turning off the little lamps above each seat. There would just be time to get a couple of hours’ sleep before the flight arrived at their first stop and they had to change planes – first change of several on their ridiculously long journey home.

They could have waited three days and got a more direct flight but neither of them had wanted to wait once they’d found out that Papa Theodore had escaped from jail. Each of them had been bewildered by the news. Bewildered, scared, unsettled – Hutch didn’t know which word best described his feelings. He had been scared for one brief moment: he could admit it to himself and maybe to Starsky.

Starsky had been terrified by the news – Hutch had seen it in his eyes – that was why he had been so insistent that they leave the island as fast as they could. Hutch glanced at his partner, fully expecting to see him dozing, instead he saw his partner was considering him sombrely; his right hand curled over the left, protecting it almost.

“You feeling all right, buddy? How’s your thumb?”

Starsky looked down at his hands and slowly revealed the thumb that had been hurting since he’d dreamed about catching it on something sharp in a box held by the bokor. Hutch drew in a sharp breath; the tip of Starsky’s thumb was blue-black with a bruise that looked as if it must hurt beyond belief.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Starsky lifted troubled eyes to meet his.

“Hutch? How? How can something I dreamed have done this?”

Hutch gave a little shake of his head. “I don’t know, pal. I don’t know anything anymore about what’s possible or impossible. That island didn’t seem to operate by the normal rules of nature.”

Starsky nodded. “That’s for sure.”

“I think you should get it checked out when we get back, make sure it’s not broken.”

Starsky grimaced. “If it is, there’s not a lot anyone can do about it. It’ll just have to heal.”

Hutch looked at his friend’s strained face. “No, but the doctor could give you something for the pain.”

Starsky shrugged.

“Why don’t you try and get some sleep, Starsk. You look rough.”

“You don’t look that brilliant yourself,” Starsky quipped.

Hutch smiled. “You know what I mean. Get some rest. I’ll wake you a bit before we’re due to land.”

“Okay.”

Starsky grabbed the small pillow that had been provided and tried to get comfortable. Within a few minutes, he was dozing fitfully. Hutch laid his jacket over his friend and hoped that he’d be able to get a couple of hours of rest before they had to make a move on the next leg of the journey.

*****

When they finally landed at Bay City airport, both of them were about ready to go home and fall into bed and not move for a couple of days. As they collected their luggage and walked out of the doors looking for a taxi, they spotted their captain waiting for them. He was wearing a grim look.

During their brief conversation by phone, he’d already told them to take a day off before they came into the office to file their official report but they weren’t surprised to see him; he would want a first-hand account of what had happened to his old friend, Walter Healy.

It was Healy who had asked for their help in the first place, catapulting them into a weird world of voodoo dolls, a seemingly imprisoned millionaire and several murders. Both Starsky and Hutch felt the full weight of the failure to protect Healy even though Walter had died before they had arrived on the island.

As he drove them away from the airport, Dobey listened in silence, just nodding occasionally. He pulled up outside Starsky’s apartment and helped the detective carry his luggage, apparently realising that exhaustion was starting to set in with both of the younger men.

“Get some rest, Starsky. I will expect to see you fully fit and ready to work day after tomorrow.”

“Yes, Cap,” Starsky managed to mumble as he let himself into his apartment and locked the door behind him.

Dobey frowned and returned to his car. As he started the engine, he looked at Hutch, who was starting to look pale with fatigue.

“Are you and your partner all right? What happened to his thumb?”

“Not sure. He must have banged it on something  – don’t know what.”

Hutch wasn’t sure he could explain what had happened; it all seemed too bizarre.

Dobey drove Hutch to his apartment and helped the weary detective gather up his bags and golf clubs and carry them up the stairs. He didn’t comment, just raised an eyebrow at the amount of luggage Hutch had taken with him. Hutch had the grace to look sheepish.

“Get some rest, Hutchinson.”

“Yes, sir. Thanks for the lift.”

Dobey waved the thanks away with a hand and left Hutch to pile up his luggage just inside the front door. Hutch looked at the cases and debated unpacking and getting started on his washing; stifling a yawn, he instead went and had a shower, put on a pair of clean boxer shorts he found in a drawer and crawled into bed.

*****

Starsky slept for almost a day, only waking briefly to use the john, have a glass of water, take some pills for the pain in his thumb, eat some toast and then crawl back into bed. He slept fitfully for the first few hours, plagued by strange dreams, half held memories and visions of Papa Theodore that left him sweating and gasping for air. Gradually, he calmed and began to sleep more deeply. When he finally came to, it was late in the afternoon and he felt rested. He got dressed in a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt; it was a warm day but comfortably so – not like the island which had been unbearably humid and hot at times.

He unpacked and put some of his dirty clothes into the washer. His thumb still throbbed but was less painful and not such a horrible colour. He felt relieved to be away from the island and happy to be home but the memories of the dreams he had had lingered on. He decided he would go see Hutch. There was something he had kept dreaming about and he wanted to ask Hutch about it – whether it had really happened or not.

Starsky drove to Hutch’s place and parked behind Hutch’s car. He walked up the stairs, with only a little less than his normal energy, and banged on Hutch’s door.

From a little way off, he heard his partner call, “Be there in a minute.”

He waited impatiently and, when Hutch opened the door to let him in, said, “What took you so long?”

Hutch shrugged. “You want a beer?”

Starsky nodded and threw himself onto Hutch’s couch.

As he returned with two bottles of beer, Hutch asked, “Did you get some sleep? How’s your thumb?”

Starsky showed the offending digit to his friend, observing, “It’s a bit better and yes I got some sleep. You?”

Hutch nodded. It was only then that Starsky noticed Hutch was wearing a thick shirt with a high collar.

“Hey! Aren’t you hot?”

Hutch flushed slightly. “A bit. Waiting for my clothes to dry. I’ve run out of t-shirts.”

“Oh.”

They sipped their beer and Starsky wondered how to ask his question.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah.”

“I kept dreaming last night…I’m not sure which bits were just dreams and which bits might have happened. My brain’s all jumbled up.”

“Just dreams, buddy. I’m sure you won’t have any more once you get back to normal routine.”

Starsky sipped on his beer and persisted with his line of thought: “It’s just some of the dreams were so vivid…They felt like memories. I know the bokor wasn’t on top of that cliff with us but, when I dreamt about it, I kept seeing his face.”

Starsky couldn’t bring himself to mention Papa Theodore’s name; the thought of the man and his strange hold over people, including him, and his disappearance was still something that was freaking him out if he was honest.

Hutch shifted uncomfortably. “He wasn’t there, Starsk.”

“No, I know. There’s another thing – I remember rushing at you and us falling off the cliff but I don’t remember much about the first climb up or what happened just before I rushed at you…Got a bruise on my backside that tells me something musta happened but I don’t remember doing it.”

“That’s odd,” Hutch said. He stood up abruptly. “Want another beer?”

Without waiting for Starsky’s answer he went towards the fridge. Starsky frowned and got up and followed him.

“Hutch? What happened before I rushed you?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me!” Starsky protested. “I feel like I’m going nuts. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Did I fall over and bang my back?”

Hutch reluctantly turned to face him. “I’m sorry about that. I had to use a wrestling hold to take you down.”

Starsky stared at him. “You wrestled me to the ground,” he said slowly, as if trying to piece together snatches of memories. “Hutch? What was I doing that you had to wrestle me?”

“Look, you weren’t yourself. What happened doesn’t matter.”

Starsky reached out and grasped Hutch’s arm. Hutch could feel his hand trembling through the material of his shirt.

“Oh my god,” Starsky’s voice was strained with horror. “Hutch? Did I…Did I try to strangle you?”

Hutch looked like a deer caught in the cross hairs of a rifle.

“Show me,” Starsky whispered. “Your shirt…You didn’t run out of t-shirts, did ya.”

Hutch thought about refusing then, reluctantly, undid the first few buttons on his high-collared shirt.

Starsky gasped when he saw the bruises on Hutch’s skin made by his own hands. Suddenly, he let go of Hutch and swung away from him, walking towards the door. Hutch sprinted after him and blocked his way, preventing him from going out of the door.

“Starsk?”

“I nearly killed ya, Hutch. He nearly made me kill ya.”

Hutch could see the fear, the anguish and something else in Starsky’s eyes.

He said softly, “I’m still here, buddy. You didn’t hurt me.” His words echoed the very ones he had said to his partner when he had looked at him in utter confusion after they fell from the cliff top into the sea. The fall and subsequent dunking had probably saved their lives, as it had broken Starsky out from whatever enchantment he had been caught in. “I’m fine,” Hutch added reassuringly.

Starsky closed his eyes and muttered something.

“What?”

“I said ‘no thanks to me’.”

Hutch frowned and contemplated his friend’s face.

“Starsk. It wasn’t your fault, you know that. I don’t know how Papa Theodore does what he does.” He noticed Starsky tremble at the bokor’s name. “I don’t understand any of it. I mean neither of us knows how he got out of jail and we don’t remember how we got from that hut to the beach. He affected both of us…I could just have easily have attacked you.”

Starsky looked doubtful. When he spoke, it was as if he was seeking a glimmer of light in the dark. “Hutch? You really mean that? You don’t blame me?”

Hutch was completely confused by the question. “Why on earth would I blame you?”

“Well, ya don’t think he chose me ‘cause he knew somehow that I’d be more susceptible?…I know you think I’m an idiot sometimes because of some of the things I believe in…Maybe you’re right, Hutch, maybe I got a weak mind and he could sense that, could sense whose mind would be easiest to bend.”

Hutch frowned at his partner. “That is a load of twaddle,” he exclaimed definitively.

Starsky was so startled he actually laughed: “Twaddle?”

Hutch grinned, looking slightly embarrassed. “A character in my book said it. It seemed to fit!”

Starsky was still looking worried; the smile that had been briefly there, left his face. Hutch looked at him and raised a finger.

“Listen up ‘cause I am only going to say this once; Papa Theodore could have chosen either one of us to take out the other. It could have been me just as easily. You didn’t really hurt me and I am still in one piece.”

Starsky searched his partner’s eyes.

Hutch stared back, imploring his friend to believe his words. “All right?”

Starsky let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Yeah, all right, pal…Thanks.”

Hutch knew his best friend needed a final measure of reassurance and pulled him in for a brief hug.

As he let him go, Hutch said, “Come and sit back down and finish your beer. You can turn the radio on if you want.”

“What are you gonna be doing?” Starsky asked as he settled on the couch.

“The rest of my washing,” Hutch informed him. “I really have run out of t-shirts!”