One Man’s Trash and Alfredo’s

55

Story 1: Starsky is fed up with Hutch’s car looking like a junk pile and offers to clean it out.

Story 2: Starsky decides enough is enough.

 

First published 2023.

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ONE MAN’S TRASH…

Starsky looked in the back of Hutch’s car before he climbed into the passenger side. He shook his head in bewilderment. It was still there. Why?

As he settled in his seat and Hutch pulled away from the curb, he asked a question.

“Hutch? How come you are so neat at home and such a slob in your car?”

Hutch shrugged.

“I mean: how often do you actually clean this car out? Once a year?”

“Christmas and birthdays,” Hutch retorted.

“Whose birthday? Your birthday or the car’s?”

“The car’s.”

“All right. So when is the car’s birthday?”

“I forget.”

Starsky sighed. “Look, this weekend,” he offered, “I’ll help ya. It won’t take more than half an hour to clear all that trash out.”

“What trash? All of the stuff there is useful. I collected it from junkyards.”

“Exactly! Junkyards! It’s in the name, pal! It’s junk!”

“I’m reusing stuff! I hate seeing waste.”

“The wheel, Hutch, what are you going to use the wooden wheel for?” Starsky demanded. “That thing has been sat there for six months! Just tell me why?”

“It’s for a project.”

“What project?”

“I was going to make a herb planter…but I haven’t got around to it yet.”

Starsky thought about this for a while. As they pulled up outside Metro building and got out of the car, Starsky asked, “What else do you need for it?”

“For what?”

“For your project?”

“Wood, rubber lining, some soil. That’s it.”

“And herbs.”

“No, I’ve got the herbs growing already. I will just need to plant them up.”

“All right then.” Starsky nodded to himself.

Hutch looked at him sideways as they headed up the stairs and asked: “All right what?”

“This weekend, we’ll get the stuff we need and build your planter.”

“What about your plans with what’s her name?”

“I’ll tell her I can’t meet her till Saturday evening. Your project won’t take all day.”

They headed into the squad room and Hutch poured himself a coffee, which Starsky took from him. Hutch poured himself another.

As they settled at their desks, Hutch said, “Okay.”

Starsky looked up from his coffee. “Okay?”

“Yeah, if it bothers you that much, okay, we’ll get it done this weekend.”

Starsky grinned. “Great.”

Hutch smiled. “You know, Starsk, it will be good to get this project done. Thanks for the suggestion. It will give me some more room in the car for items I find when I visit the junkyard next weekend.”

Hutch feigned innocence as Starsky choked on his coffee.

ALFREDO’S

The time had come. This was it; no more procrastinating. Starsky was going to clean out the back seat of Hutch’s car.

He pulled the Torino up behind the Blintz’s vehicle (he couldn’t bring himself to call it a car) and climbed out. He opened up a trash bag in readiness and slipped on a pair of gloves. Gingerly, he opened the back door and began pulling things out: three styrofoam coffee cups, a dried out banana skin and some sandwich wrappers went straight in the bag.

Next he pulled out a box of tiny, striped tiles. Who knew what Hutch wanted them for? Starsky put them on the sidewalk. Next, he found a multicoloured blanket. He folded it neatly and put it on top of the tiles. An LP appeared next. Starsky tutted. Hutch was lucky it hadn’t broken with everything that had been thrown on top of it.

Just then the door to Venice Place opened and Hutch came out. He did a double take.

“Starsky? What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m saving you from catching something! Old banana skins! Yuck!”

Hutch peered in the trash bag.

“I only put trash in there,” Starsky protested. “You don’t need to check it. The important stuff is here.” He indicated the small pile on the sidewalk. “You should take that lot in.”

Hutch picked up the LP.

“I wondered where I’d put that,” he said.

Starsky threw a box of tissues (he’d just found) at his partner.

“In the car or inside your place?”

Hutch threw them back.

“In the car.”

Hutch picked up the box of tiles and the blanket and took these and the LP inside. Starsky carried on sorting. He discovered a large pizza box and stared at it. The logo was from a place called ‘Alfredo’s’.

When Hutch returned, he was still staring at the box; a frown covering his face.

“That can be thrown out,” Hutch observed.

“Where’s Alfredo’s? I ain’t never heard of it.”

“It’s over near the Arboretum. I took a date there. We got hungry so we shared a pizza.”

“What kind of pizza?”

“All sorts.”

“Hmm. Any good?”

“Yeah, it was great. They did a mean vegetarian pizza.”

“Hmm.”

Silently, Starsky finished pulling items from the back, sorting them, handing Hutchables (weird things for projects) to his partner and throwing the last few sticky, smelly wrappers in the bag. The car looked a lot better when he’d done. Still not talking, he tied up the bag and handed it to Hutch. Then he headed towards his car. Wordlessly.

“Starsky?”

The dark-haired man paused and looked back over his shoulder

“Thanks.”

Starsky shrugged and climbed into the Torino. Hutch dropped the bag and hurried after his partner.

“What’s up, partner?”

“Nutthin’.”

“Not buying it. Something’s up. What?” Hutch thought for a moment: Starsky’s demeanor had changed when he found the pizza box.

“Are you upset I didn’t save you any pizza?” he guessed.

“I’m upset you didn’t even mention there was a new pizza place in town! I love pizza! My own partner keeping me from good pizza!”

Hutch stared at his partner, eyebrows asking, Seriously? But then he thought to himself that this was his partner after all and they were talking food.

“How about we go to Alfredo’s now and I buy you a pizza as a thank you?”

“Took you long enough, Blondie! Chuck that trash away and let’s get going!”