Tempers Flare

It’s hot in Bay City. Both partners are affected by the heat.

Temperatures were soaring, tempers were flaring and nerves were fraying all across Bay City. This was especially true inside a beige Ford that had no air-conditioning and hardly anything that worked properly.

Starsky was grumbling again about the lack of aircon and Hutch had had it.

“Give it rest, Starsky! It’s not my fault it’s hot and it’s not my fault that your highly strung car needs yet another tune-up! You don’t like my car: get out and walk!”

Hutch pulled over to the curb and glared at his partner, hoping to make his point and expecting Starsky to settle down into a sulk. At least then, he’d be quiet for a few minutes. He didn’t expect his partner to open the door and get out. He stared in surprise as his partner stalked away.

In his astonishment, Hutch just sat there for a moment and then shook himself into action and pulled the car back out into traffic, keeping his partner in sight. He went to press on the horn but thought better of it. His partner’s shoulders were set hard in irritation. If Hutch beeped at him, he might explode.

But they were still on duty for another two hours…

Hutch deliberated and then picked up the mic.

“Dispatch, Zebra Three. We’re going on a meal break for twenty minutes.”

“Acknowledged Zebra Three.”

Hutch checked which way his partner was heading—no longer stomping, more a stiff gaited walk as the heat began to get to him. Hutch shook his head at his partner, at himself, at the temperature then sped up to get half a block ahead of Starsky. He pulled up in front of a small food truck and jumped out. He queued and bought cold sodas and two sandwiches then settled at a table under an umbrella and waited.

When Starsky arrived, Hutch wordlessly offered a drink. Starsky hesitated only for a second and then took the drink and sagged onto the bench, glad of the shade offered by the striped umbrella. They both drank their cold sodas gratefully and then started on a second one. Hutch pushed the sandwich across the table and was relieved when Starsky took it and ate hungrily. It was then Hutch realised they’d both missed lunch.

He ate his own sandwich and then looked up to see Starsky leaning back, looking more relaxed and slightly sheepish.

They both spoke at the same time: “Sorry.”

They both laughed.

Starsky looked at his watch. “Ninety minutes to go,” he sighed.

Hutch pulled him to his feet as he said, “We’ll make it…beers at Huggy’s after our shift?”

Starsky nodded and followed Hutch back to the car.

Hutch said, “Tell Mildred we’ve finished our meal break.”

Starsky picked up the mic. “Mildred, honey, we’re back on duty.”

“Acknowledged Zebra Three.”

“Hey! We missed lunch,” Starsky said as Hutch started the engine.

“That’s why you were so grumpy,” Hutch said, but the tone was teasing.

Starsky snorted. “Me? What about you?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Temperatures were still soaring but tempers and nerves had been soothed and a cool drink at Huggy’s later would be a good end to the day…and tomorrow maybe the heat would die down just a little.