Thanks for Making Me Who I Am

102

Starsky and Hutch pull witness protection detail for a man who could make a great dent in Bay City’s crime world. What could go wrong?

 

 Author’s Notes: Thank you to Lapfordlass for being my beta for this story.

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As the blows rained down on him, his mind slipped to the past and the transgressions he endured as a youth, recounting endless times when he was not enough in his father’s eyes.

In his mind the conversation played out.

“Boy, stop that now, do you hear me?” his father ranted with quickly rising frustration. “For the life of me I cannot figure out why you continue with this stuttering,” his father railed repeatedly.

“Kenneth, do I need to beat it out of you?”

“N-N-No S-S-S-Sir,” he hitched between sobs, quaking in his shoes.

“You know this is unacceptable work, Kennet; a B+ in orating skills. This is completely unworthy of a Hutchinson.”

“Ye-yes sir,” came the reply.

“Now, go out and get your switch, bring it back in here, and be ready to take your punishment.”

*****

Those days as a youth did nothing to build Hutch’s self esteem, but they did teach him about inner strength and resolve. He refused to let his father see him cry when punishment was bestowed upon him.

Thanks dad, he thought to himself now.

He was in desperate need of some of that resolve right now; actually, he needed all that he could muster. The pain from repeated blows to his back and kidneys was nearly enough to bring darkness upon him. However, his tormentors were smart enough to sense he was nearing blackness and eased up until he was able to once again hurl obscenities at his captors.

“Look, Hutchinson, just tell us where your partner is hiding.”

“STUFF IT you turkeys. I don’t know where he is, and even If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You lous—”

Whack, smack, was the response. As he was fading into darkness, his thoughts were of his partner and their mission. He repeated in his head, Get moving Gordo and be safe.

A few hours later, Jim from the Montez Gang (one of the new big crime families in Bay City) said, “This is one tough cookie. He has taken a helluva beating and is not even close to giving us the information. Our usual techniques aren’t working. Got any ideas?”

Buster said, “Hey, let’s blindfold him and secure his hands and dump him in the desert. That should scare him enough to talk. All we have to do is put one of those tracker things on him. I’m sure he will spill his guts and tell us his partner’s location after a couple lost hours in the desert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jim said.

*****

A short time later, Hutch was yanked to his feet, blindfolded, and his hands were secured at his waist. Then he was led to a car and forcefully shoved into it. After a short drive, the car came to a stop and Hutch was yanked out of the car. His captors told him he had one more chance to give Starsky’s location to them or they were going to leave him in the desert.

“Go to hell,” came Hutch’s reply. The next thing he knew he was on the desert floor gasping for air. His captors, who didn’t appreciate his lack of cooperation, had delivered a mammoth punch to his gut and a quick kick to his already injured ribs before leaving him incapacitated and stranded on the desert floor.

“Okay Hutchinson, ya can’t just lay here and be a smorgasbord for desert life. Now get up!” he berated himself.

Getting to his feet was not an easy task for the blatantly abused detective. With a host of bruises and abrasions over his face and midsection, dislocated right shoulder, possibly cracked rib or two and welts on his back, and most definitely a concussion, every little movement brought considerable pain and nausea. The mantra came back: “This is nothing; I can take more,” he repeated relentlessly, while slowly getting to his feet and somehow staying there as he felt the world spinning around him. Upon standing, Hutch had to figure out a direction to go. Without the advantage of sight, he lifted his face and slowly turned until he found the sun. From what he could surmise it was about high noon. He would count to five hundred methodically, to determine east from west, then set off with the sun at his back.

*****

Meanwhile Starsky and the protected witness were headed to their next planned destination after Hutch had failed to return from the last check-in. He should have been back within 30 minutes, 40 tops. It had been three hours and no word.

“Time to move,” he told Marcus Lagusta. “I’m not sure what trouble my partner has found, but his failed return definitely indicates trouble.”

“If we move, how will he find us?” asked Marcus.

“He’ll know,” came the reply.

Mentally he reviewed the plan he and Hutch had made.

“Z, which consisted of Bay City-Modesto-Mariposa-Fresno-Monterey-Bakersfield. Then Bake Carmel Stock @Home, (which stood for Bakersfield-Carmel-Stockton-Bay City). Stay at the farthest Best Western in each city. No more than three days at each. If we have to leave early, go to nearest state park.”

“Uggh,” grunted Starsky. “Boy, I hope this plan works, Blondie. We only have a few days left. It appears the trouble has begun.”

Starsky and Lagusta made their way uneventfully to the Best Western Modesto. Starsky was more than a little disappointed that there was no one at the Hotel under the name Rafferty or O’Brien. Starsky checked in as Rafferty. Then he and Lagusta got settled in. The worry about his partner was becoming unbearable. His stomach had that feeling he got when his partner was hurt.

*****

“Dobey here,” came the terse greeting into the phone as he answered it.

“El-cap-e-tan, what say it is? Your cousin sent me a letter. You need to read it right away, ya dig? I believe I’ve the got kryptonite for the dynamic duos plan of attack,” said Huggy.

Dobey thought it best if he came to meet Huggy at his place, as the likelihood of wayward ears hearing would be minimized.

Huggy said, “Once here, you know where to go. Just one thing; what color are your trousers today?”

“What?” came the reply. Then Dobey said, “Black.”

*****

After the captain arrived and discreetly made his way to the upstairs apartment, Huggy staged a diversion making it look like the captain was using the facilities. Dress shoes placed in a stall with plungers in them and a pair of black trousers hung over them, then he locked the stall door and made his way to the upstairs apartment and Captain Dobey.

“Okay Huggy, whatcha got?” asked the captain.

Huggy handed him the note and said, “Our blond brother was quite sneaky.” He paused while Dobey read the note.

 

Hi Harold,

See ya in 3 days at most.

The weather’s been rough, had to move ahead of plans. Hopefully we can keep the storm at bay for a while longer. Got cake, modern cost. Mari said it would free Monday going East, but the baked caramel stored at home for 21 days. Park it, if fails.

See ya,

Your brother, Richard Michaels

Your Boston boy!

PS: Remember the Zoo riddles and the fun we had solving them and the maps we drew? Where we would start at home and make up words with three to see if we found one another?

 

“Well, Hutchinson definitely wrote this note. Now we just have to figure out what it means,” said Dobey.

Huggy said, “I think it’s a riddle of their plans like with the creep Marcus.”

“I believe you are right, Huggy.”

The two of them sat and and studiously worked at unscrambling the riddle from Hutch. It was about 3 hours later when they were able to decipher the apparent coded plan from Hutchinson.

*****

Hutch continued his wayward wandering through the desert. He knew it had been many hours because his back was severely burned as well as his face. The moisture on his skin was cooling now. As he picked himself up after yet another fall, he licked at the moisture on his arms. He thought to himself, I am so damn tired and thirsty I’ve resorted to licking myself. Yes, he was definitely exhausted, in pain, and so ridiculously thirsty. The thought of a night in the wilderness without sight and the ability to move easily was a little more than frightening.

An undetermined time later, Hutch stumbled and fell after running into some plant life, too tired to realize the gold mine around him. He decided it was as good place as any to sleep as he was just too tired to move. Drifting off to sleep, thoughts of Starsky and Lagusta ran through his head. He prayed that his partner and their charge were faring better than he was.

Me and Thee, partner, was his last conscious thought.

******

Starsky was not fairing so well either. He and Lagusta ran into trouble in Bakersfield. Starsky had managed to get away with a bullet in his right bicep and Lagusta had a leg injury that was limiting his mobility. Starsky realized their future and survival was dependent upon his ability to set up camp. As he was pulling out the camping gear, his thoughts went to his partner; the gnawing in his stomach had intensified. He knew if he and Lagusta had found trouble, then he was sure Hutch had as well.

After their minimalist camp was set up, fire started, and dinner warming, Starsky pulled the first aid kit from the trunk. He advised Lagusta he was going to have to clean the wound, remove the bullet, and pack his wound. Lagusta paled at this directive.

Dinner was eaten after the rendering of first aid to both parties.

“Hey Lagusta, you’re not a half bad medic,” said Starsky.

“You either,” came the reply.

“Yeah, well let’s not make a habit of it going forth as I’m not sure how much more we could handle with our limited supplies,” said Starsky as they were settling into their sleeping bags.

“Blondie, you know how much I hate the outdoors. Nature boy, you should be here,” groused Starsky as he muttered to himself while laying his Beretta on his lap to keep watch for the long, cool, and very scary night ahead. To keep himself awake, Starsky imagined all the ways he would get back at the tall blond for making him endure a night in the wilderness.

He couldn’t keep up with the evil plans for retribution as that unsettled feeling in his stomach continued to nag at him. Instead, he sent prayers for his partner’s safety.

Me and Thee, buddy, always, was Starsky’s last thought as he dozed off.

*****

Captain Dobey was being paged relentlessly as he left Huggy’s. He hurried to the car as fast as his bulk would allow. Mildred was hailing him. She said that Minnie Kaplan had important information that he needed to know.

Once on a secure channel, Minnie relayed her crucial messages to the captain. “Captain, a blue sedan registered to the precinct was found in Bakersfield with multiple bullet holes, but no occupants. Secondly, a black limo that was registered to Montez enterprises, was involved in an auto accident; a semi blew through an intersection, hitting the car and killing both occupants. Within the car, the crime team stumbled onto a transponder tracking device. The blip keeps moving. It appears the object is moving at a slow rate of speed, then stops and starts again. Captain, it’s out in the Mojave Desert.” Minnie paused then asked, “Do you think those boys are okay? Captain?”

Dobey sighed and said, “It’s not looking too good. Damn, they always seem to find trouble or it finds them, I’m not sure which. I do know, however, they have certainly found some trouble.” He sighed and thought to himself, What am I going to do about those boys of mine? He paused and sent up a prayer for their safety.

The captain had ordered the transponder brought to him. Then Simmons, Babcock, and himself set out to see what was so important that it was being tracked. Dobey feared this could go well into the morning or even midday before they would be able to determine its significance.

*****

Terri was saying, ”We gotcha babe,” as the smell of chocolates chip cookies came to his mind and visions of soft roses petals that smelt of Gillian’s perfume assaulted his nose. He awoke abruptly from his feverish slumber, cold, and shivering with thoughts of cookies and flowers. Hutch could not figure out if he was delusional from fever or what exactly was going on. He moved to sit up, and his face was poked by sharp stalk of a desert plant. “Think Hutchinson, you know that smell.” He moved again and a stalk broke of; his senses were assaulted.

“That’s it. Desert Yucca,” he exclaimed excitedly. He thought to himself, They have strong sharp pieces of stalk. I can chew the inside to get liquid and some sugar. But first, I can use the stalk to cut the ropes free my bound hands.

With a great deal of pain and an undetermined time later, he was able to cut through the ropes, freeing his hands. Hutch reached up with his left hand and removed the blindfold. As he did so he slowly opened his eyes. With a yelp, he quickly snapped them shut again as the brightness of the day was too much after the total darkness of the preceding hours.

No longer handicapped by imposed blindness, he was able to take stock of his situation including his injuries and surroundings. Hutch knew he was in bad shape. There were the obvious fractured ribs and dislocated shoulder and host of bruises cuts and scrapes. He could now add second-degree burns over his back, arms, chest, and face realizing with certainty that some areas contained third-degree burns. He was dehydrated and knew his time was limited.

I’m still alive and well that’s something, he thought.

Hutch spent some time gathering Yucca branches to suck the moisture from, which surprisingly rejuvenated him some, but he knew it was a short reprieve. After pulling yucca stalks from the plants, he not so nimbly tried to tie them together to make a shield from the sun. This would also provide him a source of moisture and sugar as he continued on. To where he wasn’t sure, but he knew if he had found trouble most likely so had Starsky. He hoped his partner was at least faring better than he. As Hutch stumbled along with the rising sun at his back, he found his thoughts on Starsky.

A few hours later with his waning strength and increased delusions he found himself once again on the desert floor, too weak and tired to move. Okay buddy, I’m not sure I’m gonna make it this time. I’m sorry pal. Images of Starsky his partner and best friend floated in as the darkness took him.

*****

Starsky was relieved to see the rising sun come into view, saying to himself, Well partner, made it a night camping in the woods, and still here. Hope you’re okay.

Despite the fact the bullet had been removed from his arm, he was aware that an infection was taking hold. They had a day and a half until Lagusta was due in court, thinking positively that they had a chance to make it. His thought became worrisome as he thought about his partner. However, those thoughts were interrupted by Lagusta’s terrified, “Run Starsky!”

Starsky was pulled from his reverie at the noise, and he saw Lagusta running toward him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the boars.

Starsky in a hurried hushed voice said, “No don’t run! Climb-at least six feet up.”

Both men scurried along with Starsky pulling Lugusta along with him while trying their best to avoid the boars, seeking out a purchase that would provide safety.

After they both deftly clambered to the relative safety of some trees, it was only a few moments later that a brown bear attacked the boars, disabling them and dragging them away. While the bear was hauling off the boars, Starsky and Lagusta relinquished their perch. Both were visibly shaken.

Blondie, next time you get the wilderness adventure.

As they returned to camp with a few more minor wounds and scratches, they decided first aid was the first item on the agenda. Lagusta bent into the tent with Starsky following. Lagusta shrieked as six little beady eyes registered the invaders and turned and lifted their tails and filled the tent with a malodorous stench. They quickly backed out of the tent, eyes watering. They blindly made it to the water jug on the table. Starsky poured water into his eyes to flush them out. Then he turned to do the same to Lagusta.

After a brief rest and their heart rates returning to normal, Lagusta said, “Well I wonder what else—“

“Don’t say it,” came Starsky’s terse reply.

*****

Simmons said, “Captain, the bleep hasn’t moved in two hours. What do you think? According to the device, we are less than one mile from it, as best I can figure. What’s the plan?”

After scanning the area ahead of them, it became apparent there was no hideout in the area. He sighed and said, “I think it’s one of my men or both. I just hope we are not too late.” Dobey hated it when any of his men appeared to be in peril. It just hit harder when it was one of his sons.

Babcock pulled the car to a stop and said, “I don’t see anything that would indicate a hideout.” They stepped from the car and started searching the vast desert.

“There!” came the simultaneous outburst from Babcock and Dobey. Both were pointing to the left—about six hundred yards away they had noted a slight movement of a form about the size of a person. Dobey handed the water bottle he was carrying to Babcock and turned toward the car and reached for the mic to call for a life flight. As Dobey, was completing the call, Simmons hollered, “It’s Hutch! he’s alive (barely) and he’s in a real bad way, Captain.”

Dobey moved the car over near where Hutch lay and flipped on the lights to help the medics see them. Then he went to his downed officer and was aghast at the site of Hutchinson. He was severely burned, every unprotected part of his body, his right shoulder was undoubtedly broken as it had an awful shape and was three times bigger than the other. The open welts were deeply burned and seeped yellow exudate that seemed to burn as it reached the surface. His semi-conscious, mostly delirious detective, looked just as bad in the front.

Simmons was trying to get Hutch to drink a little water to lessen the dried, cracking bloody lips and mouth. Hutch continued to swat at the offer, not able to comprehend that Simmons was trying to help him. “Come on Hutch, just drink a little water for me, huh?”

“No, no, get away from me. I won’t tell ya anything,” came the weak, agitated, confused reply from the downed detective.

Just a few minutes later, the medical chopper landed and the medics ran to assess their patient. As the assessments were made, they worked furiously to render aide. One medic handed Simmons a pair of scissors and directed him to cut the pants off the patient, while two of the medics ran back to the chopper for additional supplies. They returned quickly with what looked like a kiddie pool and several jugs of water and large bags of ice.

Mike, the pilot, said, “He is suffering from severe heatstroke and critical dehydration. His core temp is 105.2. We have to get his temp down quickly to minimize internal organ damage, if we’re not too late.”

Simmons methodically cut away Hutch’s jeans. Cindy and Sam were preparing the cooling bath. Captain Dobey held Hutch’s thrashing hands and talked softly to him as he’d seen Starsky do on all too many of occasions.He was thinking to himself, Why isn’t anything simple for these two?

Babcock was busy being the IV pole as he held a bag of lactated ringers and 5% dextrose water. As a team, they moved Hutch into the ice bath, and the officers watched with abject horror as the ice melted before their eyes.

Mike said, “Rectal probe is showing temp is still climbing, 105.7.”

Sam quickly added more ice the bath. Hutch continued to thrash in an agitated state, then went rigid and started convulsing.

“Damnit, were losing him. Give Phenobarbital IV push 10 mg /kg,” Mike said.

Cindy grabbed the necessary medication and astutely administered it through the IV port. Approximately 35 seconds later, Hutch stopped convulsing.

Sam, said, “He’s not breathing.”

Mike reached for the laryngoscope and deftly intubated Hutch. Cindy started bagging him. The crew prepared to get Hutch ready for transport while Mike told the officers he didn’t think Hutch would make it to the hospital alive. Dobey asked if he could ride with his man; his request was granted. After Hutch was loaded and emergency measures were switched to flight systems, they began their departure to Bothin Burn Center at UCSF.

Simmons hollered, “We’ll meet ya there Captain!”

*****

Starsky and Lagusta had decided on leaving the minimal camping supplies behind as they were worried about their safety, not wanting to draw the bear’s attention back to them. As they were nearing the campground exit, the stolen car began sputtering. Starsky pulled into a campsite down the road. The family looked on suspiciously, as the father herded his family behind himself and into relative safety of the woods at the campsite’s edge. As Starsky exited the sizzling car, he reached for his badge. He said,” I’m Detective Starsky and this is my friend, Mike. I need to commandeer your vehicle for police business. The car will be returned, and you will be compensated for your trouble.”

The man nodded slowly, reaching into his pocket for his keys and stepping closer to Starsky. He said, ”I’m Clint Wilkes, retired pol—“ and startled back mid-sentence as the smell got to him. He managed, “Nice cologne you got there.” He turned his head away from Starsky while flipping his hand in front of his face, trying to push the unwanted smell from his nostrils.

Starsky stepped back and confirmed the man’s cut off statement. Starsky sighed and said for the man to wait until after 9:00 am the following day to contact Captain Harold Dobey, Metro Division and to speak with him or officer Minnie Kaplan about this situation. Clint nodded his understanding and finished retrieving his car keys and tossed them to Starsky. Then he called to his wife. “Lois, everything’s okay. Please come help me put together some food for these guys.”

Lois emerged from her hiding place and allowed the children to come with her. She efficiently put together peanut butter and jelly, bread, and two hotdogs, which was all that was remaining in the package, and an open bag of chips and a few bottles of water into a box and gave it to her husband. It was obvious to Starsky that she and Clint had been together for a long time, as she smiled sympathetically at Starsky and said, “I wish you save travels. I hope you make it to your destination. You look pretty peeked and rough.” As she looked at her husband imploringly, Clint nodded his consent. Lois said, “I’m a trauma nurse and I think I could be of assistance to you both. Let me get my kit.”

An hour later, Lois was completing her ministrations on the two injured men. The children had made sandwiches and chips for the inured men. Starsky again advised them not to speak of this to no one except Captain Dobey or Minnie Kaplan at metro after 9:00 Monday.

Clint said, ”I understand and you two be careful.”

Lois said that Starsky really needed antibiotics, as his wound was showing signs of infection. She apologized that she was not able to help them get rid of skunk smell either. Then she said, “Mike, you are not far behind in the infection department. That boar snagged your leg good.”

Starsky thanked her and then said that they really needed to get going. He and Lagusta climbed into the car and sped away.

“Now what?” Queried Lagusta.

“We drive, we keep moving until I can deliver you to the court Monday morning.”

“Okay, but where do we sleep and how do we eat after Wilkes supply is gone, cause I don’t think too many people are going to let us in, the way we smell.”

“We will be okay. Get some sleep now as I might need company later.” Starsky watched as Lagusta slowly closed his eyes and stretched his injured leg out and placed it on top of the other. Soon there was a soft snore coming from his right, but it wasn’t like Hutch’s. The thought of Hutch brought worried and dark thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Starsky thought to himself, Okay Blondie, I hope you’re okay because you haven’t caught up to us, and that has me quite worried. Be well and safe buddy.

*****

Simmons and Babcock met up with Captain Dobey several hours later. He was outside the operating room, sitting in an ill fitting hard plastic chair. The fear was evident on Dobey’s face as the men approached.

Babcock said, “Captain, how’s Hutch doing? Got got any updates yet?”

Dobey said, “We’ve lost him twice, but he’s still with us. He had a seizure in flight and another once in the ER and he also coded. They were able to pull him back and he’s been in surgery for about three hours.”

The detectives dropped in chairs alongside the captain for the long wait.

A short time passed before Huggy joined the the small group. “What it is Captain? Any word yet on the blond half of the dynamic duo?” asked Huggy as he took up residence in a chair beside the others waiting for news. Dobey shook his head and all the men settled down for the long wait.

It was approximately 90 minutes later when a surgeon came through the swinging doors and said, “Hutchinson, anyone—“

“I’m Captain Dobey. Detective Hutchinson is one of my men as are these men.” His wave included Huggy, who didn’t balk at the inclusion of being a police officer.

“Very well, I’m Doctor Jasper,” he stated with awe. “Miraculously, Detective Hutchinson is still alive but his road to recovery will be harrowing. That is, if he survives the next 24 hours.”

*****

Hutch, despite being heavily sedated, made it through the night with a restless intensity the staff couldn’t recognize, but Dobey and Huggy did. It was the fact he was separated from Starsky, possibly even worried to the extent it seeped through his unconsciousness. Simmons and Babcock had returned to duty looking for any sign of Starsky and his charge. When Huggy returned to the hospital, he brought with him a change of clothes for the captain as well as breakfast and a piping hot cup of his special brew. Huggy planned on staying with Hutch while Dobey went to the courthouse.

*****

It was 0919, and there was still no sign of Starsky and Lagusta. The Judge was losing his patience about the missing witness and was dressing down the prosecution about wasting taxpayers’ money. Suddenly there was a commotion in the hallway—shrieking, raised voices and a scuffle could be heard. Then the unmistakable yell, “Captain!”

Dobey said, “That’s my man!” and quickly rose and went to the courtroom doors as they swung open somewhat forcefully as Starsky directed Lagusta into the courtroom. Both were bedraggled and barely able to stand due to injury fatigue and fever, but it was the stench that drew the sharpest reaction from those in the corridor and the courtroom. Starsky had his weapon drawn in his right hand. His face was flushed with fever and his left hand swollen and blue. He had a soiled dressing over his upper arm with multiple red streaks extending beyond the dressing. He was stumbling with exhaustion and guided a very hobbled Lagusta toward the judge.

Starsky searched the room and then locked eyes on Dobey. When he couldn’t find his partner amongst the group, he slurred, “Cap-Hu-Hutch, where is he?”

Dobey  said, “We got him,” as he advanced and caught his exhausted detective before the ground came up to meet him.

Lagusta gave his testimony and was whisked into witness protection.

*****

Initially, the detectives were in two different hospitals; Starsky was at Memorial and Hutch was in Bothim Burn Center. This was not conducive to anyone’s peace of mind and overall healing for both detectives. Starsky’s relentless nagging for updates on Hutch and pleas for himself to either to be released or transferred wore thin, quickly. The staff at Memorial Hospital also knew how close the detectives were and how they healed better in one another’s presence and were more compliant with their medical regime if they were together. Dr. Franklin coordinated Starsky’s transfer after three days of fluids and triple IV antibiotics and steroids. Whereas Hutch was barely conscious yet, but those awake periods he did nothing but call for his partner and was extremely agitated and inconsolable, to the point he was hurting himself more inadvertently.

The day Starsky was was transferred into Hutch’s room, Hutch had been in surgery most of the day for work on his shoulder and arm. Eventually, a very groggy and agitated Hutch returned to the room and was clearly restless and in the throes of a drug induced nightmare or possibly reliving his past, which Starsky hoped was not the case.

Hutch was mumbling in a pained voice, weak from his condition. “Dad, please stop, please dad don’t hurt me anymore. Please dad stop! I’ll do better. I’ll be good, please dad stop. I’ll make you proud,“ were the weary but desperate pleas for his father to stop hurting him.

Starsky slid out of bed, dragging himself and his IV pole over to Hutch’s bedside where he took residence. He began to gently Croon to his partner that he was there and going to be all right. After a few minutes, Hutch began to settle down. However, the same pleas returned 3-4 more times.

In the times between the nightmares, Starsky contemplated this new information and couldn’t believe or didn’t want to believe that Hutch, the strongest, bravest compassionate man he knew had so blatantly been abused as a youngster. It also made him angry that a father would hurt his child so deeply. It was obviously deep as Hutch had never talked about it or it had never come out during times of other injuries or illnesses. Of course he knew it; they saw it all the time on the job. Then it clicked: it wasn’t just a soft spot in his buddy’s armor, it made his hurt come to the surface.

Several days later with Hutch much improved and Starsky so lost in deep thought he hadn’t noticed his partner had returned from x-ray until he said, ”Penny for your thoughts?”

Starsky gulped. He knew he had to talk to Hutch about the nightmares content and their validity. He sighed as then said, ”Hutch, I gotta ask you something about your nightmares.” They talked, connected on a deeper level.

In the end Hutch said, “I guess I really ought to thank my dad for making me who I am, huh?”

“No,” Starsky said. ”You are a strong, compassionate, caring person who finds value in all things, despite him. You did that buddy, not him.”

*****

Five weeks later, Starsky came bouncing into Hutch’s hospital room as his buddy was being released today.

“You ready to go, Cheese?” asked Starsky.

“What?”

“Well, after watching them do all those debridements with that thing that looked like a cheese grater, I decided you must be the cheese.”

“Oh okay, yeah, Stinky, I’m ready to go.”

“Hey now, wait a minute,” Starsky said as he sniffed at his underarms.

In unison, “Stinky cheese, yuck!” Both were laughing. Hutch recovered first and said, “I think we should stick to Gordo and Blintz, don’t you?”

Within minutes Huggy sauntered in with a beautiful nurse on his arm and a wheelchair. He had driven Starsky to the hospital to get his partner. Starsky was still unable to drive. Although his left arm was now almost healed from nearly losing it to infection, the nerve impingement from inflammation hadn’t fully resolved yet. Hutch’s biggest remaining issue was the one welt mark high on his upper back that had refused to heal and the three surgeries he had undergone (to repair his shoulder and arm) and left him in a crazy brace that strapped his arm to his chest.

As they were preparing to leave hospital, Huggy made the mistake of asking, “So what are you guys gonna do with your time off?”

“Certainly not go camping. Got that, nature boy,” stated Starsky emphatically.

“Well, I’m not gonna roast in the sun, pool side somewhere,” stated Hutch.

“Then home?” queried Huggy.

“Yeah,” they again answered in unison. “It’s safe for us,” Starsky added.

Until it’s not, thought Huggy, reminiscing about crazy nurses and professors, gangsters, and any other riff-raff that want to do harm to his brothers from another mother.

 

End