Little Distinctions

Starsky observes a kid stealing candy. What does he do?

A small hand reached around the edge of the candy aisle and snatched a handful of Hershey bars seconds before a boy with bright red hair darted out of the grocery and onto the street. He nearly collided with Hutch walking toward the cashier’s checkout lane.

Starsky saw it all. He waffled, caught between I did that once upon a time, and the letter of the law. Stealing was stealing. And while grabbing a couple of pieces of candy for free was possibly a childhood rite of passage, he’d certainly collared several people for doing exactly that. His favorite pretend daughter Molly/Pete being one. Oh, and sweet, deaf Larry. He and Hutch had actually hauled Larry into the station with an entire sack of purloined candy.

That action had uncovered a nasty ring of criminals, in the end. So did the end justify the means?

Without running, he stepped outside Von’s, glancing up and down the street. Several small children in sight, but nary a one with red hair and incriminating chocolate stains around his mouth.

An unsolved case for another day.

“What’re you doing?” Hutch asked, unwrapping his sandwich from the deli section. “I thought you wanted to buy lunch.”

“I did.” Starsky grimaced, holding up a finger. “Be right back.”

He chose a bowl of hot mac & cheese from the to-go counter, paid his two fifty, and left an extra fifty cents in the little jar with the sign—take a penny if you’re short— by the cashier. There, crisis averted.

Thing was, there was so many times when Starsky commiserated with the so-called law breakers. He wasn’t any kind of bleeding heart like Hutch who gave dollar bills to the alkies in the alley. But he could also see why or when a situation might be so dire that stealing was the only way to survive.

He could easily recall his mom pretending to clean the kitchen instead of sitting down to eat with her sons after his father was killed. He’d known even then that she wasn’t eating her dinner so that she could provide he and Nick with enough food.

Taking his macaroni to Hutch’s beater, Starsky slid into the passenger’s seat. “You ever smoke mary jane?” he asked, well aware the question seemed to come out of nowhere. But it followed the subject on his mind.

“I’m assuming you mean toke, and not send the blonde in dispatch to make sausages,” Hutch said with a lifted eyebrow.

Starsky scowled at him. “I mean—what’s the harm? It’s one of those laws that seem like somebody’s pushing an agenda without ever dealing with the people on the street. Same as shoplifting or…”

“You saw him, too?” Hutch nodded, chewing his turkey and bacon sandwich. “As for marijuana, yes, at college a few times. Never was caught, never told the police department when I signed the registration papers.”

He licked his lips, looking over at Starsky with a sweet love that had the power to buoy up Starsky’s flagging faith.

“You can’t possibly have made it through ‘Nam without at least a contact high,” Hutch continued. “We’ve all done something at some time that probably flaunts the law. It’s balancing the little transgressions with overall goodness, and a recognition of where and how to draw the line between the gray area and the criminals with evil intent.”

“One toke over the line, Sweet Jesus, one toke over the line…” Starsky sang softly, offering Hutch a forkful of mac & cheese, very glad to be sitting beside him.

Who do you love? I hope it’s me
I’ve been changing, as you can plainly see
I felt the joy and I learned about the pain
That my momma said.

Now I’m one toke over the line
–Brewer & Shipley