The Great Pumpkin Hunt

Unexpected developments on Hutch’s pumpkin hunt.

“Home of California’s Prize Winning Pumpkins,” it had said in the advertisement. Hutch had rung immediately, determined that if his partner had to have something to carve in to for Halloween, it should have a definite pedigree behind it. Now he was beginning to wish he hadn’t been quite so fastidious in selecting a place to buy. He had written the directions down in a hurry. He had been running late as usual and had scrawled down so many lefts and rights that he was now totally confused as to just how many he had gone through. Unfortunately he had also lost track of the number of “turn right on lights” and was now parked on the side of the road miles from anywhere and not a house in sight.

“Damn,” he said slapping the steering wheel. He picked the tatty note up for the tenth time and stared hard at it. Perhaps if he had written down at least a town name, he would have more idea where he was now. The fuel gauge was nosing its way slowly towards the empty mark too and thinking back he couldn’t remember passing a gas station in the last half hour.

The map book lay open on the back seat almost taunting him. Reading it seemed pointless though as he hadn’t the foggiest idea even what road he was on. To make matters worse it had now begun to rain too and the windshield was now speckled with small drops of water.

“All this for a damned pumpkin,” he said staring out of the side window. Hutch sat contemplating whether to turn back or go on. Every road had to go somewhere eventually and that seemed a better bet than heading back down the road he had just come up. He started the car engine and pulled back on to the small, winding road again.

After what seemed like a good quarter of an hour but was probably in fact no more than five minutes, he saw a small wooden house lying back from the road. There appeared to be lights on inside and a dark sedan car was parked just outside the rather ramshackle garage. Hutch pulled on to the end of the driveway and climbed out. The rain was falling much harder now and by the time he reached the front door his shirt had stuck to his back and his hair was plastered to the side of his face. The door opened before he even had a chance to try and find a doorknocker or the bell.

“Yes?” The woman standing before him looked as old as time itself. She could not have been more than four foot tall and she was dressed head to foot in black.

“I’m sorry to bother you. This is going to sound pretty dumb but I am really lost. Have you heard of Happy Acres Farm? They specialise in pumpkins.” Hutch said trying not to stare at the wizened figure in front of him.

“No. I haven’t heard of it at all. Do you have an address?” Her small beady eyes felt to Hutch like they were burning in to him. “I tell you what, why don’t you come in out of the rain and we can perhaps call.” She beckoned him in with one long bony finger. As the door opened further, Hutch noticed the small black cat that sat just behind her, its head peering at him from round her leg. For a small cat it seemed to have huge saucer like eyes of intense green.

“I really don’t want to be any trouble,” Hutch replied hovering on the doorstep, unsure of what to do next.

“Oh no trouble at all,” she said reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm. She tugged him gently. “Come in, you’ll catch your death out there.” Her face broke out in to a smile.

Hutch reluctantly allowed himself to be led in to the dark hallway and heard the door shut behind him.

She released her grip on his arm and pushed past him. “The telephone is in here, what did you say this place was called again?” Disappearing around the door in to the living room, Hutch tried to tell himself that there was nothing to fear here. The little old woman must have been in her 90s, how much danger could he be in from an old aged pensioner.

“Happy Acres Farm,” Hutch repeated unsure as to whether to follow or stay in the hall where at least the front door was within reach.

“You can come in,” she said peering back round the door in to the hall. “Its warmer in here, sit down and I’ll find the phone book.”

Hutch smiled. “Thank you.” As he walked in to the room lit by nothing except candles, he found himself staring at the animal heads that hung on the wall. Each one had a brass plaque underneath which presumably stated the date the poor animal had been shot. He sat down in an armchair and was immediately pounced upon by the cat that sat down on his lap and stared straight in to his eyes.

“Ouch!” Hutch exclaimed as the cat flexed its paws back and forth, digging its claws into his leg.

The old woman had disappeared in to the gloom at the far end of the room. There was a rustling sound as she presumably searched for the phone directory. Hutch tried to push the cat off but the action only made the cat cling on even tighter and stare even harder in to his eyes.

“I know its here somewhere.” The voice drifted back down the room. Hutch glanced over his shoulder out of the window and realised that it was rapidly getting dark. All his instincts told him to get out of there but then the voice in his head told him he was being ridiculous.

“Look I really don’t want to put you to any trouble. It’s really far too late for me to get this pumpkin now anyway. Perhaps you can just direct me back towards Venice?” The cat seemed to scowl at him as he tried to stand up.

“Venice?” The voice said in a questioning tone.

“Well just in the direction of Los Angeles would be fine?” Hutch said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

Finally the elderly woman appeared again, her face looking rather gaunt in the candlelight. Her eyes still piercing and jet-black.

“I don’t think I can be of much help. I so rarely get out these days. Silly me, I forget things so easily now. I even forgot that the phone was disconnected some years ago for non-payment of my bill. It was really such a silly misunderstanding.” She stood now in the doorway between Hutch and freedom.

Hutch again tried to get up but the cat fiercely hung on and struck out with a paw catching the side of his face.

“Such a badly behaved cat. Bad kitty,” the woman said, tottering across the room towards him. The cat hissed loudly.

Hutch felt the claws gouge a lump out of the side of his face and he leapt to his feet. Wiping his hand across his cheek, he could feel the stickiness of a trail of blood. The cat landed on all fours on the floor and stood poised to strike again.

Ignoring both the cat and the elderly lady, Hutch pushed past them both and went back out in to the hall. In one stride he was at the front door, fumbling in the dark to find the catch to release him from this hellhole. He was in luck. Within seconds he was out in the cold night air. Breaking in to a run and determined not to look back over his shoulder he headed for his car. His heart hammered in his chest; this was truly a living nightmare.

Fortunately he had not bothered to lock the car door and he was soon safely back inside. Fumbling for his keys, he could hear the rain drumming on the roof. Again, luck was on his side and he put the key in the ignition and prayed for the sound of the engine’s throaty roar. Nothing appeared to have followed him, he hit the accelerator and the car, skidding slightly on the muddy roadside, slewed onto the road. It didn’t seem to matter any more to Hutch which direction he was going just as long as it was away from here.

Looking back on the whole experience, Hutch had no idea how long he drove after that until he found a gas station. He fuelled the car and went inside to pay. The man behind the counter was immediately suspicious of the blond haired man, soaking wet and with scratch marks all over the side of his face.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Hutch shook his head. “No, I am lost. I was trying to buy a damned pumpkin but found something a whole lot more sinister. Where am I anyway?” He handed over a $20.00 bill to pay for the gas.

“Looks like you had a run in with something? You been out in the woods?” The man said staring at the marks on the side of Hutch’s face.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I just want to get back to Los Angeles,” Hutch said, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

The gas station clerk frowned. “Makes you wonder just who you are sonny. You come in here all scuffed up like this. Maybe you’re wanted? There a price on your head?”

“I am a Detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. And right now that is exactly where I wish I were. Now, please, just give me the damned directions.”

The clerk wasn’t giving up so easily though. He pulled a small handgun from out of the till and pointed it at him.

“I think we’ll just check that out if that’s OK with you. You stay right where you are while I make a call?”

He reached across to the phone with his free hand and without taking his eyes off Hutch dialed a number.

“Hank? It’s Jerry at the station. I got a real suspicious looking guy down here. Want you to come and check him out. Says he’s a Detective but I ain’t so sure.” There was a short pause. “He don’t look like no Detective I ever seen before. Kind of shifty looking, soaking wet and huge scratches down his face.” Another pause. “He ain’t going nowhere. I got him covered.”

Hutch stood leaning on the counter too tired to do anything but comply. He heard Hank put the phone down again.

“You mind if I at least sit down?”

“You stay right where you are. Hank’ll deal with you.”

Evidently whoever Hank was he wasn’t far away and from the sirens Hutch could hear in the distance, he rapidly came to the conclusion that he was the local law officer. He was proved right when the door opened and the Sheriff walked in.

“This him, Jerry?” Hank said.

“Well there ain’t no one else in here aside from me.”

Hank walked over to Hutch. “Tell me all about it then son. Who are you and what you doing in our nice, quiet little town?”

Hutch took a long deep breath and pulled himself back upright off the counter where he had been leaning. “I am Detective Ken Hutchinson, not that that is of any relevance to why I am here. I was up here buying a pumpkin for a friend, got lost, had a run in with a pet cat and now all I want to do is get back to LA.”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I can call to verify who you are?”

Hutch sighed. “Yes, call Metro in LA and ask to speak to Captain Harold Dobey. I hope you don’t treat all the visitors to your little town with so much suspicion or I should think your tourist industry must really suffer.”

Hank ignored the comment and reached across the counter for the phone. It took him a couple of moments to get the number and several more to confirm with Dobey Hutch’s identity. Then Hank replaced the receiver and turned to face Jerry.

“Seems he is exactly who he says he is. In fact turns out that his partner has already been out looking for him. They were extremely pleased to hear that Mr Hutchinson here is still alive and well. I suggest you give him the directions he needs and send him on his way.” Turning his attention then to Hutch, he smiled broadly. “Guess you’ll be pretty pleased to be back home again, back in civilization, hmmm?”

Hutch nodded. “You certainly have that right.”

By the time Hutch finally got back to Venice Place, it was virtually ten o’clock. He parked his car and sat for a moment contemplating the afternoon’s events. In two short hours it would be Halloween. It seemed to him that he had already lived through a Stephen King novel. All he wanted to do for Halloween was avoid it. Every bone in his body suddenly seemed to ache and his head was beginning to throb. What he needed more than anything else was a long hot shower and to clean up the scratch marks that the cat had left on his cheek. He opened the car door and climbed out on to the sidewalk. Glancing up, he noticed it was full moon and then his eye travelled immediately to the window of his apartment where, staring straight down at him was a large candlelit orange face. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt his stomach lurch. The pumpkin had two large teeth and a very crooked smile.

“You like it?” A voice said, out of the darkness.

Hutch recognised it as his partner’s immediately. “Starsky?”

Starsky walked out on to the street. “I never figured you would go out and get one so I thought I would save you the effort. I picked one up at the shop down the road, they had a great selection this year.” He walked over to Hutch. “Where the hell you been anyway? I spent nearly four hours today trying to track you down. You any idea at all how worried I have been about you, you big lug?”

As he got closer to his partner, Starsky noticed the scratches. “You want to tell me what happened?” Then realising how shaken up Hutch appeared to be, he reached forward and squeezed his shoulder. “You OK?” As he still didn’t get an immediate reply and feeling concerned how, he gently put his hand behind Hutch’s head. “Let’s get you indoors and in to some dry clothes. We can talk later.”

Hutch ambled up the stairs behind Starsky. Too tired to even contemplate explaining anything. Finally back within the safe confines of his apartment, he flopped in to a chair. “Starsk, just do me one favour.”

Starsky shut the door behind them and walked over to join his partner. “Sure, anything, you know you only have to ask.”

“Ditch the pumpkin OK?”

Starsky frowned. “Huh?”

“Just do it … please. For me. And wake me on November 1st.”

Hutch closed his eyes, wet clothes, scratched cheek, whatever, all he wanted to do now was sleep knowing that his partner was there, as ever, to watch over him.