Tower of Trust

“There! At nine o’clock!” The tower could be seen from a distance. Starsky and Hutch scrambled to the little one room buildings on the roof.

The second building had no lights. Hutch broke the window, unlocked the door, and Starsky turned on the lights, to reveal a room covered in aluminum.

“We’ve gotta find this nut.”

Hutch kept taking in the sight of the foil covered walls. His back teeth had a metal feeling. “What makes a mind get to this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Commander Jim is about town.”

Starsky patted Hutch’s back, “Come on.”

Starsky tried to talk him down. “They’re gonna build you a nice room, Jim. With lead walls so you won’t get those waves…from Alpha Centauri.”

Hutch stayed with the girl, but was listening intensely. On a razor’s edge, his nerves were taut. That was his partner out here, clever, convincing, at least to a sane person. But unarmed.

The gun went off. Starsky chased Wrightwood through the corrugated wall around the tower. “Jim, don’t go up there!”

Hutch made his move, running to the opposite corner. Starsky was okay. Putting his gun away, he climbed over.

Starsky followed Jim’s lead just steps above on one corner of the tower’s frame. In no time, they were halfway up the side. Hutch climbed diligently, carefully.

But it was getting way too high. Especially for Starsky, who’s own quirk with heights came along from time to time. Hutch watched in the harsh sunlight. They couldn’t worry about that now. They had to get this guy down, safely.

Starsky kept calling up to Wrightwood. “Jim, come on down!”

“Get away from me!” It wasn’t working. Wrightwood was feeling cornered. He shot the rifle without aiming, and missed by a wide margin. Starsky kept climbing, more worried about his collar than his safety.

As Wrightwood passed a certain distance, he began to talk to the tower, as if the summit was leading him, calling for him.

Hutch kept pace across from the two of them. He took out his gun, maybe just out of habit. Wrightwood was crossing the horizontal rails towards Hutch.

Starsky tried again. “Jim!”

“Get away from me!” He was feeling claustrophobic now. His rifle fell, as he struggled for balance. A second later, he was hanging by one arm, flailing.

Starsky acted quickly. “Jim, give me your hand!” Hutch watched in disbelief. There wasn’t anything he could do. There was nothing….

Wrightwood’s scream announced all hope was lost, as he lost the ability to hang on, and fell mercilessly to his death a hundred feet below.

Starsky’s breathing was rugged, caught in the emotion. He looked to Hutch immediately, for assurance, for reaction. Oh, God. They both stared at each other.

Then, it happened. Starsky looked from over to down. Wrightwood was down there, but it hadn’t made an impact in Starsky’s brain. And then…he looked up, over, and back down. His breathing started to hitch, his fingernails began feeling the metal, his hands started to shake, and open….

“Starsky!”

Starsky grabbed at the tower. But he was trembling, going into shock.

“Starsk! Look at me, LOOK at ME!!”

Starsky followed that voice like it managed the gates of Heaven. Starsky met Hutch’s eyes. In a faint, tiny voice, he begged, “What–what am I doing up here?”

“Starsky, it’s alright.”

“No, NO, I’m up, I’m up here, it’s too high, it’s….HUTCH, I’m too high…”

Hutch took three steps towards Starsky quickly. But they weren’t at the same level.

“NO! Don’t! I wanna see you, don’t move! I don’t want you to fall!”

Hutch’s natural tree climbing boyhood was still in his heart. He stepped back to calm his partner. “It’s okay, I’m back, okay? Now breathe for me.”

Starsky clung to the rail but he was chilled, stiff and panicked. He tried a breath, it wasn’t very helpful.

Hutch came down steps below Starsky, still on opposite side. “Starsk, look at me, look over to me.” He made sure not to use the word ‘down’.

“Hutch, I’m– I’m scared. Really. Shitless.”

“I know. I hear you. I feel you. Now listen to me, just concentrate on me. Can you do that?”

“I trust you, Hutch. You know I do.”

Hutch had to smile. Bless his heart. “I know, and I you. Now I want you to watch me, I’m going to come over to you, nice and slow, okay? I’ll be under you by a few rungs. Just breathe for me and watch. Don’t say anything, it’s alright.” Hutch moved quickly, before Starsky had time to process any more stress.

Starsky watched him like he’d been asked. He stared at the plaid shirt moving in the wind. He thought about the sun shining on Hutch’s hairline. Hutch. Before he had time to say his name, he was directly under him.

Hutch turned his head up. “See? I’m right here. Everything’s okay. Now come down one rung, and I’ll go down one. We’ll just be one rung away from each other. Okay, buddy?”

Starsky looked only at his shoulders and his pearly smile. He nodded yes. His voice was too dry to use now.

Hutch set the pace, and Starsky followed. The lower they went, the more comfortable Hutch was to speed up the process. Starsky followed like a shadow, and didn’t think about the destination. Twenty to go, ten, five, three. Down.

Hutch turned in perfect time, blocking Starsky’s view of the body. At least for a moment or two. He lifted his arms up, and caught Starsky in his arms. Starsky fell in, drained, hyperventilating a bit.

Hutch whispered, “Okay, babe, I got you. We’re fine.”

Starsky muttered in Hutch’s shirt. “God, Hutch. I love you.”

Hutch brushed his cheek with his lips, a teeny touch of lip. “And you.”

Starsky moved away and saw Wrightwood. “What a way to go, I won’t forget that scream.”

Hutch would made sure he did.

Five glasses of wine later, Hutch made Starsky scream like he’d never forget.