Call the Game

A small twist in the episode otherwise known as Bad Soup.

“Hutch how can ya just drink cold soup right out of the can like that? Yuck! And clam chowder to boot.” Starsky crinkled his nose in disgust, as he tossed the empty can into the back seat of Hutch’s car.

“Starsky this isn’t a garbage dump.”

“Could have fooled me. Hutchinson you’ve got some weird eating habits.” Starsky’s usual rock gut stomach churned at the thought of the chunky white fish soup.

After a long day and no luck hunting down their newest bad guy they headed for the pits for a few beers and a game of pool.

Anita was Huggy Bear’s best barmaid; she sure had eyes for Starsky. Serving the two their beer she went back to work but kept a sly watch over the curly headed teddy bear. She was gonna have that man one day he just didn’t know it yet. Smiling to herself she went about clearing the bar and wiping it down still eye- balling the cuddly bear.

“Starsky, let’s face it huh? I don’t mean to hurt your feelings here, but I am the brains of this duo.” Hutch smirked and sunk another ball into the corner pocket of the pool table.

Taking a sip of his beer and setting it back on the table Starsky leaned down and lined up his stick to the cue ball. “Yeah well, how ya gonna prove it?”

“A little game called hide and seek. I hide, you seek just for the weekend.” Hutch’s voice was full of cocky confidence.

“What’s the prize?” Starsky now had a wide grin on his face. When he was younger, it was his favorite game and he was damn good at it. Hutch doesn’t know what he’s in for, he laughed to himself.

Hutch sunk the seven ball and reached for his beer. “We start tomorrow 8 o’clock wrap it up Monday morning at 8 okay? The prize buddy? How about two weeks salary?”

Starsky stood leaning on his pool stick grinning like a kid who just told a lie and got away with it. “You’re on partner. I’ll have you wrapped up by tomorrow night, chump.”

“Yeah, what makes you so sure of yourself huh?” Hutch placed his pool stick down on the table. This game was over and a new one was about to begin.

Starsky took a deep breath and in a voice so sure of itself retorted. “I’ve done my homework for seven years. I know how, where, when you eat, walk, sleep, and talk. I know who you know, what you know and how you know it, and ain’t no hiding behind that huh.”

Hutch had a slightly surprised look on his face that his partner could rattle that all off in practically one uninterrupted breath. Starsky sounded so confident it unnerved him some, but he came right back with confidence of his own. “We’ll talk about that Monday morning huh motor mouth.”

Both men raised their beer mugs and glass clinking against glass they downed the rest of the hops. “Game, set, and match ” they chimed in unison. The two game players headed home to get some sleep for the next day’s playoffs.

Starsky pulled up to the Pits, his first stop of the day. Think I’ll have a beer and relax a minute then get started he thought. This won’t take long at all. I know Blondie better than he knows himself. As he bounced out of his car he was met by an old man.

“Move outta the way old timer.” Starsky was anxious to get inside and the old man kept gibbering about some stupid pencil. Starsky tossed him a dime and headed into the bar. He sat down at the wooden counter and Anita poured him a brew.

“Little early to be drinking or did you just miss me?” Anita flirted.

“Hey sweetheart, you know it’s cause I missed ya.” Starsky sipped on his beer and watched the television, not in any hurry. I figure if I sit here long enough I’ll catch a sight or a word on Hutch and have this game bagged quicker than bees to honey.

Hutch stood outside the Pits scratching at the itchy beard and eyebrows that he had spirit-gummed to his face. Starsk didn’t even recognize me, his smile spread wide across his face. He wiped at the red tomato with the rag he pulled from his pocket. I’ll just wait till he comes back out. Big chump that he is, maybe I can get a dollar off him this time, he giggled to himself.

As he polished the candy apple red paint job, the unmistakable sound of gunfire hit his ears. He whirled around, it had come from inside the Pit’s. Frozen in place for a second he witnessed two men in ski masks and carrying bags, running for all they were worth. A few green bills flew to the ground as they ran.

Was this some kind of trick his partner was playing? A sick ploy to win the game? Starsky hated to lose. Hutch recalled a few games of chess and monopoly Starsk had cheated just to win. He shook his head, a sick knot appeared in his stomach. I gotta go check this out, he thought. No one will know it’s me in this get up. He hunched over and held his pencils tight and headed into the bar.

As the old geezer entered the bar, he saw Anita was the only soul left in the darkened establishment. She was visibly shaking and sobbing with the phone in her hand. She demanded an ambulance. His gaze filtered through the rest of the bar. Hawaiian blue eyes came to rest on his partner stretched out on the floor facing the bar counter.

Could be a trick, he wouldn’t put it past Starsk to use his snake-like charm on Anita to play along. He moved in closer to Starsky who was not moving. He couldn’t see any blood or any sign of trouble other than the fact his partner lay still on the wooden floor. He fumbled with his pencils as Anita flew past him.

“Pencils fine pencils, only a dime.” He kept up his act.

Anita didn’t look to him and knelt next to Starsky running her hands through his curls and sobbing. This was not how she wanted to get her hands on him.

Hutch thought she sure was one hell of an actress. Starsk must have schooled her all night on how to act. That knot in his stomach, however, refused to go away and it grew and tightened.

Anita stood finally “I gotta go see if that ambulance has come yet.” She headed for the door just noticing the old man. “Stay with him please, please stay with him.” She sobbed and ran out.

*****

Hutch tentatively headed toward Starsky. If it was a ploy, he didn’t think he would be recognized. He came around to the other side of his friend. His mouth dropped open and his entire being went dead cold at the sight. Starsky lay still, blood soaking his shirt and jacket and more blood spilling out of him onto the floor of the bar. Starsky’s eyes stared, vacant and open wide, his mouth was slightly open silently gasping in air. This is too real. This is no ploy. Game over Hutch thought as he stumbled against the bar in shock.

Starsky saw the old man his eyes wide and unblinking. He felt so alone he reached out but his arm wouldn’t move. Only his fingers grappled at the peanut shells that lay blood covered on the floor next to him. His mouth opened and closed trying desperately to take in air.

Hutch caught the movement and shook himself from his shock. He landed on his knees with a thud next to his partner. “Oh my god.”

Starsky knew the voice but couldn’t connect the face to it. Why was the pencil man talking like Hutch? He tried to speak but all that came out where gags and gasps.

Hutch ripped off the Halloween mask and gently turned Starsky from his side onto his back. As far gone as he was Starsky now understood “Hu…” was all he could get out before he coughed and choked blood trickling out of his mouth.

Hutch took off the Salvation Army jacket and rolled it up pressing it to his partner’s abdomen hard. Blood soaked through the thick jacket in seconds. Starsky seemed unaware of the pressure on the gunshot wound his eyes staring upward blankly and his blue lips rasping to get any amount of air they could.

“Partner, hold on, just hold on. You hear me Gordo? Don’t let go, ambulance is on the way.” Hutch kept up the pressure with both hands and kept his face above Starsky so he could see him.

Starsky had mustered up the last of his life’s strength and reached up with both hands getting a death grip on Hutch’s shirt. He tried to speak. He had to tell Hutch what he had seen on TV before the two alpine skiers decided to blast him into the next life.

“Sou….so.” He coughed and rasped blood still trickled out of his mouth. How was he going to do this? He kept his steely blue eyes locked onto Hutch.

“Starsk sh sh sh don’t buddy. Don’t talk.” Hutch felt the knot in his stomach explode; he knew his partner was in a bad way.

Again Starsky gave it his all he had to let his friend know had to save Hutch before he slipped away. “S….soup…..TV..poison…”

“Please Starsk sh don’t, don’t. You need to save your strength. Come on buddy, please, for me, just lay still.” Hutch pleaded. He knew his partner couldn’t last much more if he kept using his breath to talk.

Starsky grabbed at the shirt in one last attempt with all his heart and soul he pulled himself up to Hutch’s face. Hutch let go of the army jacket he had both his hands on to hold Starsky close up to him. Starsky’s eye’s still held a vacant look and his face was turning bluer by the second as he gulped in air. “Hospital… you got to go… soup you drank…. kill you… TV. watch the TV..”

“Okay pal. Okay, I’ll watch the TV it’s okay. Buddy, come on relax, just breathe for me, come on just …”Hutch watched as Starsky took in two short ragged breaths in quick succession and never let a breath back out. His hands lost their hold on Hutch’s shirt and fell to either side of his body and his head dropped backward limp, vacant blue eyes still open wide.

Hutch knew he was gone. Sobbing he placed a hand behind Starsky’s head and raised it up to fall against his chest. He sat in a pool of blood his clothes and hands and face covered in red.

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, He bolted up straight and immediately looked at his hands, looked around the room. His bedroom, he was in his bedroom. Oh my god, it was a dream but so real, too real. Ring, ring, ring, he wiped away the tears that streamed down his cheek and answered the phone.

“Hutch, Hutch.” The voice on the other end held panic and worry. “Turn on your television quick what was the name of that soup you ate yesterday partner?” Hutch still half crying from the dream he just had headed to the living room.

Soup? Hutch thought back to his dream or was it real, he still was out of it. He flicked on the tube. He slowly sank to the couch as he watched the news flash. “Be careful what you eat. Chicken gumbo, and clam chowder, Ryland Soup Company, poison, hospital.” Where the only words that his foggy mind comprehended.

He did feel a knot in his stomach as he went back to the bedroom and picked up the phone. “Starsk hey that is the soup I ate. How did you know?”

“Remember buddy I know when you eat, where you eat, how you eat, what you like to eat, what you don’t like to eat, the names of the stuff you eat, the restaurants you like to eat at, I know my partner.”

“Okay, Starsk you made your point.” Hutch started to rummage for his clothes, guessing he was making a trip to that familiar white, antiseptic, sadistic place where you felt like a pin cushion all the time. He silently thanked god he wasn’t making the trip to the morgue.

“You feeling okay Blondie?” Starsky’s voice held great concern.

“I don’t feel too bad, just a knot in my stomach is all.”

“I’ll be right over. They said on the TV if you get treatment quick there should be no problem. Get dressed Hutch GAME’S OVER.”

It was a quick trip to the house of horror and back. Hutch was to rest up a few days, he would have little more then flu symptoms.

Hutch sat on his coffee table Indian style. “Buddy, you know I didn’t mean it when I said I was the brains of this duo. You’ve got brains too mush mouth. ”

“Uh Hutch I don’t think you’re gonna think that for too much longer.”

“Why’s that Starsk?”

“Well I think I just put your new Buddy Holly album in the oven instead of the pizza.”

Hutch smelled the air. “Doesn’t smell like pizza, does it Starsk?”

“Sorry Blondie, I’ll make it up to you.” Starsky dropped his head down in shame.

“It’s okay Starsky. You already did partner, you already did.”

THE END