Just a Cold

52

Hutch isn’t feeling well. Starsky gets worried when he doesn’t hear from him.

 

Post The Plague.

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Hutch dragged himself out of bed. He was a little surprised to find it was so late in the day. Even though he’d been exhausted after a long week, it was usually hard for him to sleep in when the sun was shining and the joys of a free Saturday morning were calling.

He stumbled through to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk, which he drank slowly as he thought about what he was going to do first. Go for a run? Care for his plants? Practise the piano? Head to the store to get groceries for the weekend?…Or go back to bed for an hour?

He put the glass down on the counter and swayed slightly as a sense of lethargy gripped him. He knew he should get on with something and not waste the day but his body felt leaden. Maybe returning to bed and having an hour more of sleep would help? Hutch gave in to his body’s wish to lie down and crawled back into bed. He was asleep within seconds.

*****

When he woke two hours later, he felt no better. In fact, as he tried to sit up, he realised he felt worse. A slight fever seemed to be running through his frame and he was desperately thirsty. The kitchen seemed too far away to go for a drink. He staggered to the bathroom, relieved himself and drank handfuls of water from the tap. Then he wobbled his way back to the bed. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel so awful? The phone rang and the harsh jangling went through his skull like a jack hammer. He covered his ears and hoped whoever it was would give up soon.

*****

Starsky hung the phone up with a slight frown then shrugged. Hutch was obviously out, making the most of the sunshine. He’d have to tell him about his mother’s good news later – at Huggy’s. They’d made a tentative plan to meet there tonight or to ring each other if they changed their minds. For now, he would take advantage of the weather and time and take his camera out to the beach and see what interesting shots he could line up.

*****

Hutch fell back into a restless slumber, lurching from wakefulness to dozing every few minutes or at least that’s how it felt. He awoke shivering and realised it was getting dark. He felt terrible. It crossed his mind that he should drink something, take something and ring Starsky but he couldn’t seem to turn the thought into action. Sleep called to him again and he drifted off. He dreamt the phone was ringing but he couldn’t find it to answer it.

*****

Starsky arrived at The Pits and sat in their usual booth. Huggy nodded and came over as soon as he was free.

“Hey Starsky, what it is?”

“Hey Hug, has Hutch been in?”

“No, no sign of our blond brother. You expecting him?”

“Kinda. We arranged to meet. At least I thought we did…I’ll try calling again.”

Starsky headed over to the phone on the wall and lifted the receiver. He dialled and stood with a coin between two fingers, ready to push it into the slot when required. There was no answer. A little chill of unease ran through him.

Huggy appeared behind him.

“No answer?”

“No.”

“He probably hooked up with some luscious lady.”

“Probably.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

Starsky shook his head. He couldn’t explain that after the week they’d had, neither of them had the energy to show their best side to a new lady. He also couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling.

“I’ll go check on him. Maybe see you later.”

Starsky hurried out to his Torino and drove the few miles to Hutch’s place. It was in darkness but his partner’s car was parked outside.

He jogged up the stairs and reached for the spare key. He opened the door quietly and peered in, listening.

“Hutch? You here?”

He couldn’t hear anything. He turned on the light and looked around. Everything seemed in order as he stepped further into the apartment. He heard the groan before he reached the bedroom and hurried forward.

“Hutch?”

“Starsky?” The voice sounded weak but grateful.

Starsky hurried forward, turning on the lamp so he could see his friend. Hutch winced and covered his eyes. Starsky laid a hand on his friend’s head.

“You’re burning up! Why didn’t you call me?”

“Wanted to but couldn’t.”

“Stay put,” Starsky said unnecessarily. It wasn’t as if Hutch could do anything else.

He hurried through to the kitchen for a jug of water and a glass then through to the bathroom for the first aid kit. He found Hutch’s thermometer and some Tylenol. He also dampened a face cloth with cold water and brought it through, placing it on Hutch’s forehead.

“Mmm, feels good.”

“I need to check your temperature,” Starsky said.

He slipped the thermometer under Hutch’s tongue and then kept an eye on the time with his watch. When a minute had passed, he removed the thermometer and checked it. 102.

“It’s high. Maybe I should get you to hospital. It isn’t that long since-”

“No. No hospital…please.”

Hutch had been in hospital for a long stay earlier that year. He didn’t want to go back if he could avoid it. Starsky hesitated then relented.

“If you do everything I say and we can get your temperature down, then okay. First take these,” he handed the pills to Hutch and then held out the glass of water, “and you need to drink plenty.”

Hutch struggled to sit up a little on one elbow. He put the pills in his mouth and drank them down. He drank more water then sank back.

Starsky checked the damp cloth that had fallen down. It was warm already. He went and held it under the cold water again and replaced it on Hutch’s forehead.

“When did this start?”

“This morning,” Hutch responded weakly. “I felt unwell so thought I’d go back to bed…but it just got worse.”

“I see.”

“Did you ring me earlier?”

“Yeah.” Finding Hutch was ill had made him forget the news. “I was ringing to tell ya Ma’s coming out for a visit next month. She won first prize at bingo – it’s enough to cover most of a plane ticket.”

“That’s great.”

Hutch started shivering again and Starsky realised his t-shirt was drenched through. When he placed a hand on the bed, he found the bedsheets were damp with the sweats Hutch had gone through.

“Blintz, we need to get you into fresh clothes and fresh sheets. Think you can sit on the couch for a while if I help you out there?”

“Don’t know…but I’ll try.”

Starsky helped his weak friend out of the bed and through to the couch. He covered him with a blanket.

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Starsky quickly stripped the bed and made it up fresh then he found clean pyjamas. He took them through to Hutch and helped him change. After that small effort, Hutch’s energy was gone and Starsky almost carried him back. Hutch sank gratefully down and Starsky pulled the blanket up.

“That feels better…thanks.”

“Rest now. I’ll get Huggy to bring over some of his famous chicken soup later but for now get some sleep.”

Hutch was already drifting off.

“Starsk?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Starsky turned the lamp out and went into the living room. He called Huggy and filled him on Hutch’s condition.

“One of the admin staff had a bad cold last week. I bet she passed it on to Hutch. The plague left his immune system really weak. It’s only been three weeks since he went back on duty.”

Huggy could hear the worry and did his best to reassure. “You’re doing all the right things. I’ll bring that soup over in an hour. He’ll be better soon.”

“Yeah.” Starsky felt some of the panic easing. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Hug.”

“Anytime brother. See you later.”

Starsky hung up the phone and went back to check on Hutch. In the dim light from the living room, he could see Hutch was sleeping peacefully for now. Hopefully, he had got there in time to stop Hutch getting to a point where treatment at home wouldn’t have been enough. Starsky breathed out a sigh of relief. The plague was too recent a memory. The fear of losing his friend still lingered in the background. It would take a while yet for them both to forget how close it had been; a while before a cold was just a cold and nothing to worry about.

Starsky stayed where he was for a few minutes before finally retreating to sit on the sofa and finding something to watch on the TV. He was very glad that the weird sixth sense he and Hutch had for each other’s wellbeing was still working fine. It hadn’t let them down this time and he prayed it never would.