Crisis of Identity

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Hutch tries to find an explanation for Starsky’s strange behaviour.

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Hutch couldn’t believe he was doing this. What gave him the right? Why did he need to? If Starsky ever found out he doubted he would be alive to tell the tale. But he honestly felt he had no other recourse. He had tried every conceivable angle, trick, emotion and deceit to find out what the problem was, to no avail. He had tried to interest Starsky in joining him for some bowling, pool, or anything today. But with what had recently become a practiced routine, Starsky had put him off.

So here he was, sitting in a borrowed car at 1 pm on a Saturday afternoon in a stakeout/tailing operation that he hoped would lead to some answers. He sat nervously convincing himself that what he was doing was necessary for both him and his partner.

He was at a total loss to explain Starsky’s behaviour of late. He did his job with the same quirky professionalism and intuition that balanced Hutch’s more conservative, intellectual approach. What was missing was the emotional fire, caution-to-the-wind response to personal encounters of any kind, even with his partner. Starsky went through his days confidently and did his job, then disappeared. Several times he had been unreachable when duty call them back in – unheard of before. Even Dobey had quietly questioned Hutch about it. And all of Hutch’s attempts to feel his partner out about possible reasons had met with a firm, unruffled no comment. That alone set off alarm bells throughout Hutch’s system.

So he had resorted to police tactics. He had been sitting in his borrowed car watching Starsky’s place for over an hour now, expecting that Starsky would follow his normal first-Saturday-off-in-a-month late rising routine. What he did not expect to see was a yellow cab pull up in front of Starsky’s place and the Starsky in question emerge and hurry up to his door. What the hell?

Before he could rationalize it, he was out of the car and up Starsky’s steps pounding on the door. He waited. No response.

Pounding again, he bellowed “Starsky you open this door now, or…”

The door opened and Hutch faced a seemingly rational put-out Starsky. Except his eyes were read and swollen as if he’d been crying. His approach softened, as it always did when Starsky was in pain.

“Hey Starsk, what’s going on buddy?”

He reached out to offer a comforting hand and met only air. Starsky had deftly avoided his touch, and something deep inside him hurt.

“Starsky, how can I help?”

“Hutch, please just let me be. I’m O.K. Honest.”

Starsky’s controlled emotionless response only goaded Hutch on.

“You’re not O.K. You haven’t been for weeks and I want to know why, here and now.”

“You only make things worse, Hutch. Please go.”

That he could be the cause of Starsky’s pain confused and enraged Hutch. He tried to push by Starsky into the house but was met with a solid palm on his chest preventing him from advancing. A wall had gone up around Starsky that Hutch could practically see. Never had Starsky shut him out so completely.

Practically begging Hutch said “Explain it to me Starsk. Help me understand how I can help you. I can’t stand this anymore. What is wrong?”

At Hutch’s words Starsky spoke with the first real emotion Hutch had seen in weeks, desperation and anger colouring his reply.

“You are the problem Hutch. I can’t deal with it anymore. I can’t think, can’t sleep. Everything is upside down and I don’t know how to fix it. I gotta fix it or everything’s gone. Get out of here now!”

With that Starsky violently shoved Hutch back from the door and slammed it closed.

Hutch stood on his side of the door frozen in shock, his mind a blank. After what seemed hours of immobility, he suddenly awoke in a fury and started pounding on the door, virtually shaking it on its hinges in rage.

“STARSKY. STARSKY OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!”

Nothing happened. Softly now, “Starsky, please.” Still nothing.

Painfully bewildered, hurting and with tears beginning to blur his vision, Hutch made his way back to the car.

Inside the apartment Starsky lay tightly curled on the sofa, lost in a pain so strong he longer felt or thought. He didn’t hear the screech of brakes from outside, nor the sirens minutes later. For hours he ignored the phone and the knocks on his door.

Hutch slowly rose to consciousness bewildered by the strong but familiar sounds around him. He reached out with his mind, straining to hear that one voice that would bring him comfort and security. Would make it all better. He began to panic when it wasn’t there, beginning to flail helplessly and murmur his mantra “Starsky. Starsky, please Starsky…”.

A hand gripped his but he knew immediately it wasn’t Starsky. His vision cleared and he looked into Huggy’s caring eyes.

“Hutch, relax. It’s O.K. I’m here bro.”

Hutch began to fade into oblivion again. “Starsky?”

When next he awoke he knew where he was, but not why, and he was alone. No Starsky. Then he remembered and everything inside him died. Starsky didn’t want to see him anymore, be with him, didn’t love him anymore. And the tears started.

When Huggy quietly entered Hutch’s room later, he though the man was asleep. He lay completely lifeless. Huggy could just barely detect a breath, but as he drew closer could see that Hutch’s eyes were open and staring into nothing.

“Hutch, how ya feeling?” No response. He gently shook Hutch’s shoulders, bending over him.

“Hutch. Hutch.”

A blink of the eyes and Hutch focused on his face. The empty yearning look in those eyes caused him to draw back and gasp.

“Hutch what is it?”

“He’s not coming, is he Hug?”

The softness of the words could not hid the pain and loss.

“Hutch, we can’t reach him. There’s no answer at his place or on the phone. He’s probably out of town for the weekend. Don’t worry he’ll be here.”

Hutch’s gaze turned blank and upward again and he didn’t say another word. Huggy began to be afraid, and left Hutch’s room just as quietly as he had entered. He left on a mission.

Huggy spent the rest of the day and night tracking Starsky, in search of information. By Sunday noon he had fit all the pieces together and knew what his friends problem was. He cursed him up one side and down the other for being the stupid white boy he was. And Huggy was angry. So angry that when Starsky showed up at his place later that afternoon he dragged him into the back room and threw him roughly against the wall. Starsky made no protest, just leaning against the wall as if it were the only thing holding him up. Then he slowly slid down into a dejected ball.

Huggy paced angrily back and forth, back and forth muttering to himself trying to regain his control. Finally stopping in front of Starsky he literally bellowed at him.

“How could you do that to him! Hurt him so bad and then leave him laying in that hospital bed alone and dying inside.”

Starsky’s head jerked up with an almost audible snap as Huggy’s words sank in.

“Hospital bed! What hospital bed!”

Fear renewed his energy and he leapt from the floor to grasp Huggy’s arms and shake him.

“What hospital bed! Huggy what happened? Where’s Hutch!”

“As if you care,” said Huggy.

“Huggy please tell me.”

Starsky was in a panic and his eyes burned into Huggy’s, pleading for help to take away the fear that was causing him to shake uncontrollably. Huggy’s love and compassion surfaced and he sat Starsky down at the small table and told him all that he knew.

He explained that Hutch had been hit by a car outside of Starsky’s place. Fortunately the car had not been moving fast and Hutch had suffered minor cuts and contusions, a bruised kidney and a mild concussion. He expected to be released from the hospital on Monday. Dobey had been advised and was taking care of the paperwork.

As Huggy spoke Starsky slowly calmed down and now sat like a little lost boy waiting for someone to take him home.

“What do I do. Hug? I caused this and I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid to see him.”

Huggy placed a gentle hand on Starsky’s knee.

“Starsky, I know what your feeling and why. But it ain’t wrong Starsk. Loving someone is never wrong can’t you see that?”

Starsky stared at Huggy in disbelief. How could he know? How could he accept it when Starsky himself couldn’t.

“Starsky, what is it that your afraid of? Do you think your less of a man because of it? Do you think Hutch would run if he knew? Do you think your friends and family would disown you, or don’t you think you can handle the names people would call you? Faggot, cock sucker, ass fucker, fairy…”

Starsky issued a groan of despair and desperately placed his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out Huggy’s words.

“No, no, no,” his head shaking violently.

“Starsky, do you love Hutch?”

A soft “Yes.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Another, more hesitant “Yes.”

“Ah man Starsk, then what more do you need. You and Hutch are special man. Anyone can see that. I have from the beginning. You are more together than you ever could be apart. He is so much a part of you and you him that there is only Starsky and Hutch. How can you even question a love like that. It doesn’t matter what the package is, as long as the love is there. I though you were smarter than that, but I guess your just another dumb ass white boy.”

Starsky barely smiled at that, lost in the reality of Huggy’s words. He was afraid. Afraid of all the things Huggy had mentioned. But despite those fears, he had not been able to leave Hutch though he had tried. He realized now that his greatest fear belittled all the others, his fear of losing Hutch. How could he survive without his constant companion, brother, friend, partner. His love for Hutch had grown from those very soul deep feelings and he had never denied them. How could he then deny the love? How could he deny Hutch? And now Hutch was in hospital along, afraid and in pain all because of him. Because of what he could not accept and acknowledge.

The sudden peace and acceptance that overwhelmed him surprised him.

“It is O.K., isn’t it Huggy?” his whole being seeming to glow with happiness.

“Yeah man it is,” Huggy said as he drew Starsky into a bear hug that was enthusiastically returned.

Plans were set in motion between the two friends and Starsky went on his way with the greatest joy and anticipation he had ever felt in his life.

Huggy picked up Hutch at the hospital on Monday as arranged, saying very little. But then Hutch wouldn’t have heard anything he had to say anyway, responding only in monosyllables to those questions necessary to get him out of the hospital. He moved slowly and stiffly as directed like a zombie, his expressionless face and eyes not acknowledging anyone.

After opening Hutch’s door and safely seeing him in, he acknowledged the other party in the room and quietly left.

Hutch was on his way to the sofa when reality hit: the only light in the place was from several lit candles; the table was set with candles and his best dinner and tableware; the centerpiece on the table was a beautiful bouquet of red roses set in a crystal vase; there were delightful aromas issuing from the kitchen, and his partner stood near the table in his best suit with a smile that rivalled the sun.

Hutch was struck dumb.

Starsky approached him and handed him a wine glass full of a sparkling brew that could only be champagne.

“Only one glass allowed tonight,” Starsky said softly. Then stepped close and gently kissed him, enclosing him in a warm caressing hug.

Stepping back he said “I love you, Hutch, and I’m so sorry I caused you one moments pain. Can you forgive me?”

Hutch’s heart had stopped beating he was sure several minutes ago. The romanced in the air defied logic. His brain tackled it anyway: red roses, champagne, candlelight, dinner, a kiss and a declaration of love. That was romantic, right? Right. But, did he realize that it was Starsky who was the other half of the romantic couple? Yes. YES!

Starsky had kissed him, Starsky’s eyes were radiating love at him, and his passion was practically burning into his soul. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply of the romance in the air, he felt something give way inside and float away leaving a lightness that sparkled it’s way through his entire being.

His eyes open once again, Hutch slowly raised a hand to caress the face before him, delighting as it melted into his palm.

“I forgive you, David.”

Starsky’s eyes widened in joy at the use of his name.

“But if you ever do anything like that again I will personally drive you naked through the streets of town flogging you every step of the way.”

As an afterthought he said, “And, take away the Torino.”

Starsky broke out in joyous laughter as he replied.

“Deal. Now lets eat.”