Nor a Lender Be

“Mission accomplished,” declared Starsky as he brushed his hands and surveyed the Eastside Home for the Aged dining room. Only he, Hutch, and the endearing, well-intentioned couple who had started a frantic search for a bomb remained. “All ready to get messed up again for dinner.”

Hutch shook his head at Starsky’s choice of words. “Hey, partner, I think it’s time we hit the road, leave these good people to digest the delicious meal Huggy Bear provided.”

“Excuse me, Detectives? May we have a word?” asked the elderly lady.

“Oh, Sarah, I don’t think this is a good idea,” her husband said softly but emphatically.

“Now, Henny, these officers have probably seen and heard everything under the sun. And this is something we both want, isn’t it?”

Sheepishly, Henny nodded, but avoided eye contact with the four blue eyes studying them.

“Please, Sarah, continue,” encouraged Hutch.

“Yeah, jus’ say it. Me and Hutch’ll do what we can for you.”

Sarah glanced sideways at Henny before drawing a deep breath. “We have a favor to ask,” she said, her voice shaky with disquiet. She paused.

“We’re listening,” said Hutch while Starsky close-lipped smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Uh, you see, Henny and I have always wanted to try … something, but we didn’t know how to go about … finding what we needed. Well, since you’re policemen, we were thinking maybe we could borrow …” Sarah blushed, unable to complete the request.

“Our guns? You wanna borrow our guns?” asked Starsky.

Sarah and Henny shared a quick look. At her nod, Henny said, “No, no, not that, heaven forbid. We’d, uh, like to borrow your … handcuffs.” The last word was barely audible.

It was Starsky and Hutch’s turn to exchange a look. Starsky shrugged.

“Ah, would you mind repeating that, Henny? My partner and I didn’t hear you,” said Hutch amiably.

Henny stood up straighter, mustering his courage. “Handcuffs, Detective. My wife and I would like to borrow your handcuffs. Just until tomorrow.”

Sarah nodded vigorously.

Again, Hutch and Starsky looked at each other, expressions of gobsmacked amusement.

Starsky arched his bushy eyebrows. “Why don’t you handle this one, partner?” he said smugly, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Gee, thanks, Starsk,” Hutch responded irritably. He turned to face the couple. “Henny, Sarah, we’d like to loan you a set of ‘cuffs, really we would, but we, uh, can’t. They’re property of the police department. You understand, don’t you?” he asked sweetly, struggling to stay on an even keel.

The elderly couple’s faces switched from hopeful to deflated. “We understand, Detective Hutchinson.”

Starsky, unable to bear seeing their disappointment, chimed in, “Have ya thought about using neckties? It’d be easier on, you know, the anatomy.” His reluctant smile telegraphed his discomfiture.

“Henny only has bow ties, Detective Starsky.”

“And all of those are clip-ons,” the old man added.

Starsky, lopsided grin firmly planted on his face, waved his hands around as he replied, “Well, you’re smart. You’ll figure something out. Won’t they, Hutch?”

“Oh, yeah, they will. Sorry we couldn’t help you out with … this, but if we think of anything, we’ll get in touch, all right?”

Sarah patted Hutch’s forearm several times. “Thank you, Detectives. We appreciate you taking our request in stride. Now, off with you. We’ve already taken too much of your precious time.”

S&H

Hutch placed his hand on the roof of the Torino while Starsky unlocked the car.

“You know, Starsky, I can only hope at that age, I’d be willing to try something new.”

“You mean there’s stuff you haven’t tried yet, o ye of little imagination and lots of chickenheartedness?”

Hutch sneered at his friend. “At least I don’t have cheesy mirrors all around my bed.”

“They’re not cheesy. They’re … conversation pieces.”

“Is that what they are? I thought they were props for porno movies, Flesh Gordon.”

Starsky scowled. “Get in the car, putz!”

the end

July 2019