Trick or Treat

It began on the 13th. That’s when all hell broke loose.

The levitating leaf was a real thing I saw on my way to work on Friday, September 13, 2019. I’m assuming it was dangling from a very thin spider’s web that I couldn’t see. I’m assuming.

And Friday, October 13, 1978 was a real thing too. So was the full moon over Los Angeles.

TV listings for Tuesday, October 31, 1978 on ABC Network:
10 pm: Starsky & Hutch “The Avenger.”

Friday, October 13, 1978

Morning

Ocean Avenue, Venice, Los Angeles, California

A light breeze blows.

Hutch woke up early for his morning run. He had been letting himself go lately, eating donuts on a regular basis (Starsky’s influence?), not going to the gym. He still ran occasionally, though not as far as before.

But today was such an enchanting autumn morning in Los Angeles, the air crisp and cool, the sky such a lovely cerulean blue, that he couldn’t resist. The light breeze blowing through the pines and palm trees reminded him of Starsky as it gently caressed his mustache and ruffled his long hair.

Even the smog seemed to have lifted out of respect for this most beautiful day.

He stopped to chat with Apple and they made small talk about the weather. Apple said it was days like this when he did his best business, as everyone was out and about. Joggers, mothers pushing babies in prams, dogs out for a walk with their humans, and teenagers skateboarding. They would buy newspapers and coffee, candy bars and cigarettes, and nudie magazines.

Without buying anything, he bid adieu to Apple and continued on his run, turning east at the corner of Washington Avenue, headed for the park.

He then saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

It was a big brown leaf, a maple leaf. Straight ahead in his path. It was floating before him, beneath the overhanging branches of a large maple tree. No, that couldn’t be right. It wasn’t floating exactly. It was……it was……levitating? Dangling as if by invisible fishing wire. Hutch stared at it in disbelief, wondering if someone was playing a prank. Maybe they were filming an episode of Candid Camera?

He looked around. There was no one there. No one to see the leaf except him. No hint of a film crew anywhere either.

He blinked his eyes, shrugged, and concluded it must be hanging from a spider’s web (But do you see a web? You can’t see even the thinnest of threads, can you, Hutchinson?).

In his mind he suddenly heard the incantation chanted by the Three Witches in Macbeth:

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!
Trick or Treat!

Trick or Treat? Where did that come from?

“Must be your overactive imagination, Hutchinson,” he said to himself, a little too loudly. He looked around. There was no one there who could have heard him.

He let out a deep breath and continued on his run.

What he didn’t see was the human finger just barely poking out from a small leaf pile just off the sidewalk.

Presently an enquiring crow approached, snagged the finger in its beak, and flew off with its prize to a destination unknown.

Same

Interior, Venice Place

The sound of coffee percolating.

When he got home, Starsky was at the kitchen counter making a pot of coffee. Hutch walked over, leaned against Starsky and embraced him from behind, his hands interlocking around Starsky’s waist.

“Mornin’,” said Hutch, kissing Starsky on his forehead.

“Mornin’,” said Starsky, resting his hands over his partner’s. “Want some coffee? It’s almost ready.”

“Mmm, I want you….” Hutch said, and leaned in even closer.

He had already forgotten about the leaf and the witches.

——————

Hutch had just started to turn on the shower and soap up when the shower curtain was pulled back and Starsky entered. He pressed his naked body up against Hutch’s from behind, one arm around Hutch’s chest, his hand caressing it, his other hand gripping Hutch’s cock and stroking it gently at first, then pumping it fast. Hutch closed his eyes and moaned.

After Hutch came, he turned around to face Starsky and kissed him deeply on the lips, his tongue moving into Starsky’s mouth and caressing what it found there. Then he kneeled down and took Starsky’s cock in his mouth, fondling Starsky’s balls with one hand and moving his other hand up to the area just below Starsky’s belly button, caressing him there.

——————-

In their haste to leave so Dobey wouldn’t ream them out for being late, they both forgot to drink the coffee.

Afternoon

Pine Lake

Abundant sunshine.

They were called to a cabin near the lake where two bodies had been found by a local sheriff’s deputy. When they arrived, the ambulance was taking the deputy away. He had needed to be heavily sedated.

The first body was on the bed. The victim had been stabbed through the neck from below with some type of long sharp wide-bladed instrument the police had yet to identify.

No one could figure out how the perp could have lain underneath the bed while possessing enough strength to plunge the weapon up through the bed frame and mattress, through the victim’s spine, to end up protruding through the front of his throat.

Blood was pooled all around the victim’s neck and was soaking into the bed, and his head was twisted at an odd angle, the mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

The second body was found in the bathroom, slumped on the floor, with an ax buried deep in her forehead. Her eyes were open, staring. There was even more blood in here.

“Jesus,” Starsky muttered to Hutch, but as he tried to put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder to steady himself, Hutch suddenly lurched towards the toilet and vomited.

“‘It’s okay, babe,” said Starsky quietly so no one else would hear, as he gently rubbed Hutch’s back while his head remained over the toilet. As Hutch slowly started to stand up, Starsky grasped his arm and helped him to his feet, keeping his hand on Hutch’s arm for a little while.

After Hutch was able to gather himself, he and Starsky questioned everyone in the vicinity but found no witnesses.

The crime team found no fingerprints on the murder weapons, but they did find a discarded hockey mask in the woods outside the cabin. It too, had no fingerprints.

“Fucking Friday the 13th,” Hutch said softly and brought up Starsky’s wrist to check the time. He thought that this day couldn’t end soon enough.

Late Evening

Interior, Venice Place

Thunder. The sound of heavy rain lashing against the window.

Old Farmer’s Almanac Lunar Calendar for Los Angeles, CA: 92% full

They sat nestled together on the couch, Starsky gently brushing his partner’s soft hair with his fingers, soothing him. Neither had been able to stomach eating dinner.

When they finally went to bed, they lay facing each other, holding onto each other tightly, heads pressed together, hands entwined. But still, their sleep was filled with dreams most unpleasant.

Saturday, October 14, 1978

Afternoon

They were playing horseshoes in MacArthur Park near Starsky’s tree when Starsky returned to the Torino to get the bottle of root beer he had left in the front seat. That’s when the call came in over the radio that a body had been found under the bridge.

He ran back to retrieve his partner and together they drove to the crime scene about a quarter of a mile away.

It appeared to be an attempted suicide. The body was still alive. The man had put a shotgun in his mouth, which had been blown partially off. The shotgun lay beside the limp, unconscious body, the hand still curled around the handle. The jogger who called the police had assumed the man was dead.

He was dressed in what looked like a Renaissance festival version of an old dirty clown costume, complete with large ruffled collar and puffy pirate sleeves.

What was left of the poor man’s mouth leered grotesquely at Starsky and Hutch with an obscene and terrible smile.

Evening

Venice Place. On the table, a boiling cauldron of water.

Old Farmer’s Almanac Lunar Calendar for Los Angeles, CA: 97% full

Hutch sat at the kitchen table, drinking a shot glass of brandy. Starsky stood behind him, his hands on Hutch’s shoulders, massaging them. He tenderly kissed the top of Hutch’s head.

Then he sat at the table and poured them each a cup of hot spiced tea. Starsky thought a moment, considered, then took the bottle of brandy and poured a hearty measure into both cups.

Sunday, October 15, 1978

Early Morning

The Torino, driving west on Olympic Blvd.

Enter Starsky and Hutch

“I just don’t believe we have to work on a Sunday,” said Starsky, trying to lighten the mood.

“Lemme guess, you’d rather be lounging poolside with a tall blond lovely?” Hutch said, smiling weakly.

They were trying to make each other feel less stressed, less anxious about working today, but they weren’t having much luck. It had been a hell of a weekend so far.

“Only if that tall blond lovely is you, my dear,” Starsky said while doing his best Bogart impression.

With that, Starsky took one hand off the steering wheel, reached over to Hutch, and held his hand tightly while they drove the rest of the way in silence.

———————–

The murder victims had been found near the tunnel, lying together on a picnic blanket. The man’s neck had been slashed with what might have been fishing wire and the woman’s tongue had been violently ripped out. It was presumed they were lovers.

There were no fingerprints, but there was a single witness, who claimed that he saw a clown wandering around on S. Alvarado Street that morning shortly before the bodies were discovered. He described the clown as possessing a huge smile as wide as his head, stretching all the way from ear to ear, and wearing a dirty costume with a large ruffled collar.

The police quickly determined that the witness was a homeless vagrant living in the tunnel whose hearty breakfast that morning had consisted entirely of a bottle of cheap whiskey.

Evening

Exterior, Venice Place

Old Farmer’s Almanac Lunar Calendar for Los Angeles, CA: 100% full

Starsky parked the Torino across the street and they both got out. As they walked towards the apartment building, something flew and swooped a few feet overhead.

They both had to duck to get out of its way.

“What the hell was that!” Hutch exclaimed.

“Looks like a bat,” said Starsky. “You ever seen any bats around here, Hutch?”

“No,” he answered.

“Weird,” said Starsky. “Must be the full moon or something.”

Together, they looked up toward the heavens and watched the bat glide and dart its way across the night sky, its silhouette turning black as it passed in front of the full moon.

Monday, October 16, 1978

Late Morning

Police Headquarters, Metropolitan Division, Room 519-Squad Room

“Where’ve you two been, you’re late!” yelled Dobey.

“Cap’n, you said we could come in late today on account of us working a double shift yesterday,” Starsky reminded him.

“That was before someone discovered a severed body part in an abandoned house! I need the two of you to get down there right now, I’m putting you on this case.”

Same

Exterior, Neibolt St.

The house on Neibolt Street was an old rotted Victorian with peeling shingles, a front lawn boasting an impressive array of overgrown weeds, and a rusted, bent metal fence that looked like it had been stepped on by a marauding giant. The windows were blind eyes, boarded up.

As they got out of the Torino, Starsky’s keys slipped out of his hand and dropped onto the leaf-strewn street below. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, a strange disfigured apparition approached them. His hair was long and matted and his bloodshot eyes bulged out of their sockets. It appeared to Starsky and Hutch that he was missing most of his nose, and there were oozing sores pockmarking his face.

He stepped nearer and bent down as if wanting to retrieve the keys. Starsky and Hutch stood frozen, unable to move, Hutch’s hand firmly grasping Starsky’s arm.

Then a patrol officer named Bernie called to the man, “Mr. Smith, there you are!” your aide has been looking for you all over the neighborhood.” He turned to Officers Starsky and Hutchinson and explained that Mr. Smith had wandered away from a nearby nursing home where he was being treated for dementia and a skin condition. He put his arm around Mr. Smith and ushered him gently across the street.

Starsky picked up his keys and he and Hutch walked towards the front door of the house, Hutch’s arm draped closely around Starsky’s shoulder.

As they approached the decrepit door, it appeared to them to open on its own. But then one of the police officers inside stepped out and motioned to someone in the street.

A child’s severed arm had been found inside the house, along with a small yellow raincoat. The arm had been discovered by a Mrs. Herbert Finch, resident of 6 Turner Street just around the corner, whose toy poodle “Rusty” had gotten loose and wandered into the old Victorian.

When Starsky and Hutch saw her, she was gibbering incoherently to a uniformed officer.

The crime team was poring over the house and surrounding property looking for any signs of what the arm used to be attached to in life.

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and sighed. This week wasn’t looking much better than the last. This was going to be a long, exhausting day.

Late Evening

Interior, Venice Place

Old Farmer’s Almanac Lunar Calendar for Los Angeles, CA: 100% full

The dishes dried and put away, Hutch sat on a chair trying to play a tune on his guitar, then began to frown. Abruptly he stopped.

“Whatsa matter?” Starsky asked, sensing his partner was frustrated about something.

“I just can’t seem to keep the guitar in tune tonight,” Hutch grumbled. “I’ve tuned it three times already.”

“Maybe try the piano,” Starsky suggested helpfully.

Starsky had been reading from “Ripley’s Giant Book of Believe It or Not,” published in 1976, which contained over 1,400 true stories of human oddities and natural wonders.

One of the stories was an interview with a priest who discussed the finer points of exorcism. He said that unlike what was depicted in the movies, those who are possessed by demons in real life are usually possessed by more than one. And sometimes, there could be as many as 10.

He decided that perhaps tonight was not the best time to read about such things.

So he continued to the next story, about a doll named “Robert” who resided in a Key West, Florida museum. Many believed Robert the Doll was either cursed by voodoo or inhabited by a ghostly spirit. He had beady black eyes and his face was covered with nicks that looked like scars.

Some people claimed to have seen the doll move on its own from window to window. Others heard footsteps in the attic where……”Okay, I think I’ve read enough about this doll,” Starsky said. “Maybe I’ll just try one more story.”

The third story Starsky read in his book was about a two-headed rattlesnake named “Double Dave” that had been found by two herpetologists named Dave in New Jersey. This one was much better. He settled into the couch.

Hutch gave up trying to play the guitar and joined Starsky on the couch. He lay his head against Starsky’s stomach while Starsky read the story aloud, holding the book in one hand while softly stroking Hutch’s neck with the other.

Suddenly they heard an eerie howling noise coming from outside. At first it appeared to get louder, but then seemed to go off in the distance. Hutch got up and looked out the window, but saw nothing.

“What was that?” Starsky asked.

“Probably just a coyote or something,” Hutch replied.

Had he looked out the window a few seconds earlier, he would have seen a shadowy, hairy, hulking figure shambling down Ocean Avenue, tilting its head back, baying at the full moon.

Wednesday, October 18, 1978

Early Evening

Interior, Venice Place

Thankfully they had the day off. They had worked double shifts the past two days, during which Starsky had caught a cold. They were overworked and exhausted.

Starsky reclined on the couch wrapped in blankets, a thermometer in his mouth. Hutch, standing next to him, picked up Starsky’s wrist, looked at the time, and removed the thermometer.

“99.9 degrees,” he announced.

“Terrific,” answered Starsky.

Hutch went to the kitchen and checked the pot on the stove. He was making chicken soup from scratch. He had gone grocery shopping that afternoon to gather all the ingredients while Starsky napped. He took a taste, added a pinch of salt, tasted again, and decided it was perfect. He then spooned a healthy portion into a soup bowl, placed the bowl on a tray along with a spoon and a napkin, and carried it over to Starsky.

Starsky sat up and Hutch propped pillows behind him so he could sit comfortably, then handed Starsky the tray.

Hutch then brought over a bowl of soup for himself, placed it on the coffee table, and knelt on the floor beside it. When they were finished, Hutch put the bowls in the sink, then turned on the radio to a local news station.

He removed the pillows that were propping Starsky up so he could lay back more comfortably, and squeezed next to him on the couch, snuggling against him under the blankets.

Almost immediately, Hutch regretted turning on the news. In addition to reports of the murders they had spent countless hours investigating recently, there were also reports of child abductions; strange sightings; animal sacrifices; desecrated graves, and suspected satanic activity.

“Oh for God’s sake!” Hutch nearly yelled, then got up and switched off the radio with more force than was necessary.

Thursday, October 19, 1978

Late Afternoon

Towards the end of their shift, a call came in about a body that had been found down by the canal. It was swollen and bloated. There were no obvious signs of cause of death. The medical examiner would have to determine that during the autopsy.

Night

Interior, Venice Place

Moonlight streaming in through the greenhouse windows.

Hutch awoke with a start and sat up in bed, breathing heavily. He tried to catch his breath but found he was unable to. Calm down, Hutchinson, you just had a bad dream. His chest felt tight and his lungs felt as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen. While he could take deep breaths, he got little satisfaction from it. It felt like he was suffocating, although he knew he wasn’t. It was maddening, but it had happened to him before; he knew what it was.

He didn’t want to disturb Starsky who was sleeping peacefully, so he got up and went into the greenhouse, trying to calm himself.

He grabbed the watering can and began watering the plants, trying to distract himself from the feeling of suffocation. It was as if his skin was too tight for his muscles. The doctor had told him it was anxiety and to focus on something else, anything else, for as long as he could, until the feeling passed.

Suddenly there was a tap against the window. He looked up and saw a bat, floating before him on the moonlight, a light mist forming around it. It was beckoning to him, calling to him. “Open the window and let me in.”

He walked towards the window as if in a trance. The bat appeared to be hovering, floating aloft. He reached out towards it, touching the glass on the inside as the bat came closer. The wings flapped against the glass and he heard a voice. “Come to me, my sweet one,” it seemed to say. “I want to ravish you, my love.” Hutch realized dimly that the voice he heard was male. “I want to suck your hard cock…..”

He suddenly realized his erection. Jesus, where did that come from?

“Won’t you let me in…..”

The greenhouse windows couldn’t open, so he would need to open the door……..

What the hell are you doing, Hutchinson? his brain screamed at him.

“FUCK YOU!” he suddenly yelled at the bat, and threw a plant against the window. It fell to the ground, displacing its contents of root and soil on the floor.

The bat flew away, discouraged.

Shaking, Hutch climbed back into bed. Starsky was facing away from him, still asleep, so Hutch snuggled close behind him and put his arm around Starsky’s waist, nestling his head in the crook of Starsky’s shoulder. He still had the erection. Shit!

“Not tonight, babe, I have a headache,” mumbled Starsky groggily. Then he took Hutch’s hand and held it close as he fell back asleep.

The distraction of the bat had made Hutch forget all about the suffocating feeling, but now it came back to him in full force.

He lay there for a long time, holding Starsky, the uncomfortable feeling of suffocation remaining, unable to sleep.

Monday, October 23, 1978

Evening

Interior, The Pits

Huggy brought them two specials and two beers, their usual order. “How’s it going, my friends?” he asked them. “I haven’t seen you two around here much lately.” He seemed to genuinely miss them.

“Why don’t you sit down and eat with us, Hug?” Hutch offered but Huggy shook his head.

“Can’t Hutch, I’m down two waitresses tonight. Wish I could.”

“Another time, Huggy,” Starsky said, and squeezed Huggy’s arm. “Might not be too soon, though. Looks like this week’s gonna be murder for us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, man,” said Huggy. “Well at least Dobey is keeping you two busy.”

When Huggy left to tend to another customer, Hutch said to Starsky, “Play some pool, Gordo? Loser pays the tab.”

“You’re on,” said Starsky, who proceeded to beat Hutch in two out of three rounds.

As they got up to leave, Hutch considered welshing as he usually did, but decided this wasn’t the time. Then he walked over to the cash register and paid the tab.

He put his arm around Starsky’s shoulder as they exited the establishment.

Tuesday, October 24, 1978

Late Evening

Squad Room

They were trying to catch up on filing and paperwork. They were joined by a few other detectives also catching up on work, but the room, along with the rest of the fifth floor, was mostly empty.

Someone had turned off the lights in the hallway, and shadows lurked everywhere.

“Want some coffee?” Starsky asked Hutch, who was standing at the file cabinet.

“No, I’m good,” said Hutch.

Starsky poured himself a cup of coffee, his seventh cup that day. He took one sip and spit it out. It tasted rancid.

Friday, October 27, 1978

Late Evening

Interior, Venice Place

It was the end of the worst day at the end of the worst week. They had had three cases lose in court; one because the assistant DA didn’t think there was enough evidence to guarantee him a win, the second because the victim got scared and changed her mind about testifying, and the third because the perp, who had been charged with kidnapping three young women, got off on a technicality.

Then they had to investigate a crime so grisly and brutal that even the medical examiner considered quitting rather than having to perform the autopsy.

By the end of the week, Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson were running on fumes. Starsky had almost gotten into a physical altercation with one of the perp’s lawyers, causing Dobey to have to physically restrain him. This happened while Hutch was in the interrogation room trying to get a confession from a man they believed was responsible for a series of brutal attacks in underground parking garages. He had stepped into the hallway just moments before the altercation happened and was too far away to restrain Starsky himself.

By the time the detectives got back to Venice Place, having eaten only peanuts from the candy machine for dinner, they were both so physically and mentally drained that they climbed into bed without even saying goodnight.

Then Hutch started crying.

Starsky was lying on his back and was almost asleep when he heard the faint sound of sobbing. But before he could ask Hutch what was wrong, Hutch turned over, leaned his head on Starsky’s chest, flung an arm over Starsky’s shoulder and sobbed into his t-shirt.

Starsky wrapped both arms around Hutch and held him tightly, running his hand through Hutch’s soft golden hair.

“It’s okay, babe, it’s okay” he said, almost feeling like crying himself. Then Starsky remembered saying that same thing a few weeks ago when Hutch had vomited. Apparently he was wrong that time; it wasn’t okay. He prayed this time it would be.

He couldn’t wait for this godforsaken month to be over.

After a while, they fell asleep, Starsky still holding Hutch in his arms.

Saturday, October 28, 1978

Late Afternoon

They were driving slowly down E. 110th Street searching for the suspect, passing by some commercial properties and industrial warehouses. As they continued, they found themselves in a rundown residential neighborhood made up of decrepit 1920s bungalows with leaning front porches, peeling paint and decaying lawns.

The sun was starting to go down and they wanted to find him before it got completely dark. The sky seemed almost luminescent. It glowed with the pastel colors of yellow, pink, and lavender. It almost felt otherworldly.

Ahead of them, a thin, mangy dog ambled aimlessly across the street before wandering off down a narrow alleyway.

In the rearview mirror, Starsky could see a child’s ball rolling into the street behind them and a small child wearing only a pair of ragged shorts running into the street to retrieve it, his pregnant mother scolding and spanking him as she dragged him back to the sidewalk.

As they approached a particularly rundown house, Hutch saw strange things hanging from a tree on the front lawn. As they passed by, he realized they were makeshift ghosts fastened from old sheets. They were the size of men and swung eerily in the breeze. Hutch suddenly had the oddest sense of time stopping and of the Torino moving in slow motion. The air had an odd blurriness about it and Hutch had the unsettling feeling that the ghosts were watching them.

“Did you see that?” he asked Starsky.

“See what, the perp? Where?” Starsky asked eagerly.

“No, those ghosts,” said Hutch.

“Ghosts? What are you talking about, Blondie?”

“Never mind,” Hutch said, resignedly.

Starsky reached over and placed his hand on Hutch’s thigh, squeezing it. He wondered what was bothering his partner.

Monday, October 30, 1978

Morning

The fourth victim was found at 6:47am that morning, the body pale and white, seemingly drained of blood, but the only thing to account for it was two small pinpricks the medical examiner discovered on the victim’s neck. Just like all the others. There were no fingerprints found at the scene, and no witnesses.

It was another dead end.

Afternoon

Starsky and Hutch were walking to the deli around the corner from Metro to get a bite for lunch when they saw the homeless man. He was sitting on the corner of Beacon and W 8th St., hunched over, shoveling handfuls of something black what the hell is that? into his mouth while cackling maniacally at passersby.

With dawning horror, they realized the man was eating bugs. Flies and spiders, from the looks of it. Then he burped and up came a large bird feather. It stuck out of his mouth and remained there, dangling. Hutch hastily ran towards the Torino to call Dispatch. He told Mildred to send a black-and-white over to pick up the man and take him to the psych ward. Starsky, not wanting to be anywhere near the hunchback, had grasped Hutch’s jacket and followed closely behind him to the car.

They decided to skip lunch.

Evening

Interior, Venice Place

They were playing chess in the greenhouse when they heard a crash outside the apartment building. They ran downstairs and looked around, guns drawn. Someone had thrown a bunch of eggs against the window of Chez Helene’s. Starsky and Hutch saw a group of kids laughing and whooping as they ran down the block.

A red balloon floated on the breeze, wafting past them on Ocean Avenue, but they didn’t see it.

“Kids,” Hutch said to Starsky. “Mischief night, I think it’s called here. We called it Devil’s Night in Minnesota,” Hutch added.

“Mischief night? Devil’s Night? I don’t know about you, but in New York we called it Goosey Night. That’s the only proper term for this esteemed holiday, my friend.”

Hutch smilingly remembered how he and his group of friends, urged on by Jack Mitchell, would roam around their Duluth neighborhood the night before Halloween, egging houses, dropping pumpkins from the highest roofs they could maneuver, and strewing toilet paper everywhere.

They looked at Hutch’s car, parked directly in front of Venice Place, and noticed the toilet paper first. Then, they noticed that it, too, had been the victim of egg-throwing.

“You know that there’s something in the chemical composition of eggs that can eat through the paint, right?” Starsky asked helpfully.

“Great, I’ll let them sit and do their thing then, might improve the paint job even more,” Hutch said, fully aware of how that would guarantee setting off his partner’s indignation.

Then they looked across the street at the Torino and Starsky yelled, “Sonovabitch, my car!” Hutch muttered “Shit!” and then giggled as Starsky ran upstairs to get a bucket of water and a sponge.

Together they cleaned the eggs off the Torino before falling exhausted into bed.

Tuesday, October 31, 1978

Halloween

9:07am

While driving around on their beat, Starsky and Hutch heard an All Points Bulletin on the radio about a mental patient who had escaped that morning from Cabayo Point Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The person was considered armed and dangerous. He was described as a white male, 6’3″, and was driving a tan station wagon which he had stolen from one of the hospital’s doctors.

3:15pm

The dog’s body was found behind a dumpster on Walker and 7th, a German Shepherd. Its back had been broken, snapped completely in half as if by some sort of powerful mythical creature. It lay lifeless on the pavement in a funny, bent way. An unnatural way.

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other in disbelief, not understanding how the dog could have gotten like that.

Behind the dumpster they found another body. This one belonged to a raccoon that looked like something had been eating it.

When they got in the car, Hutch put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder and kept it there.

5pm

While driving back to Metro, a call came over the radio about a break-in at a hardware store over on S. Mesa. Starsky turned the Torino around and headed over in that direction. The patrol officer at the scene said that someone had thrown a rock through the plate-glass window, setting off the alarm. They didn’t steal any money, just a few items. The manager wasn’t sure what exactly was taken, but thought it looked like maybe some Halloween masks and a couple of knives.

There were lots of fingerprints found at the scene but sorting out who they belonged to was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Between the employees and the customers, the fingerprints could have belonged to anyone.

6:48pm

Squad Room

Their shift was supposed to end at 7. They hoped to God that Dobey wouldn’t ask them to work overtime. They had very special plans for tonight.

They sat at their desk in the squad room waiting for the minutes to tick by. Hutch peered into the top of the piggy bank. Starsky picked up a copy of the day’s newspaper and had just begun to read it aloud to Hutch when Dobey poked his head out of his office.

“Simmons, Babcock, I need to see you in my office. I want you to assist the search for that escaped mental patient tonight.”

He then looked at Starsky and Hutch. “Boys, why don’t you two go on home? You’ve had a busy schedule the past couple of weeks and I know it’s been getting to you.”

“Thanks, Cap’n,” they said gratefully to Dobey and dashed out before he could change his mind.

7:05pm

Starsky and Hutch were waiting on line to pay for the pizza they had ordered to go. Behind them were a young boy and his mother. The boy, wearing an astronaut costume with American flag insignia on the arm, was trying to convince her that he had seen the boogeyman outside his school that day.

He said he had been walking home carrying a pumpkin when some kids tripped him, making him fall on the pumpkin and squash it. They then teased him about how the boogeyman was going to get him that night.

His mother told him not to make up such stories and that the kids were just trying to scare him.

Hutch, who had been listening to the boy’s story, turned to Starsky and smiled. As they walked out the door with their pizza and sodas, Starsky said, “Kids,” and smiled back.

They weren’t there when the boy told his mother about how the boogeyman had followed him down the block in a tan station wagon.

7:35pm

Interior, Venice Place

Knocking within.

There was a knock on the door and the sound of children gleefully shouting, “Trick or treat!”

Starsky walked over and opened it. “Happy Halloween!” said Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia together in sing-song.

“Hey Kiko, Molly, come on in!” he said.

“Did you get that thing I wanted?” Starsky asked Kiko.

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Kiko said and handed Starsky a brown paper grocery bag. Starsky hid the bag behind the piano before Hutch could see it.

They were going to be making a jack-o-lantern and Starsky was his usual bubbly self.

“You know, I’ve never carved a pumpkin before!” he said to them excitedly.

“Me either,” replied Kiko and Molly in unison.

They laughed, walked over to the kitchen table, and began scooping out the insides while Hutch was busy putting slices of pizza on plates.

“Man, I never knew the inside of a pumpkin was so cold!” exclaimed Kiko.

“Or so squishy!” exclaimed Molly, who promptly threw a handful of the squishy stuff at Starsky. Kiko proceeded to burst into laughter at the pumpkin innards which were clinging to Starsky’s face and hair.

Hutch looked over from the counter where he was working and drolly observed that it was an improvement.

“Oh, no, you didn’t just do that!” Starsky said, and gave Molly a mock-threatening look. Then he grabbed a handful himself and lobbed it right back at Molly, who ducked at just the right moment.

Hutch had been walking towards the table carrying the plates of pizza on a tray, along with some napkins. Just as Molly bent down, Hutch dropped the napkins, causing him to lean over to catch them, and so the flung pumpkin innards missed Molly and landed splat against Hutch’s face, while the napkins floated down to the floor.

Starsky, Molly, and Kiko all bent over in hysterical laughter. When he could finally compose himself, Starsky went over to Hutch, picked up the napkins, and cleaned off the pumpkin from Hutch’s face. He then picked off the strands that were clinging to Hutch’s mustache and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Let’s eat so we can finish carving the pumpkin. Then we can make popcorn and watch the movie,” Starsky said excitedly.

After they finished eating and carving, the four of them sat in the living room and watched “Creature from the Black Lagoon” on the TV while munching on popcorn and candy.

After the movie was over, Hutch reminded everyone it was a school night. Starsky drove Molly and Kiko back home while Hutch cleaned up the mess in the kitchen.

When he returned, Starsky took the paper bag out from behind the piano, removed its contents, and crept up behind Hutch, who was drying and putting away the dishes. He tapped on Hutch’s shoulder. Hutch turned around and promptly jumped at the sight of Starsky wearing a gorilla mask.

“Very funny, Starsk,” he said, pretending to be annoyed.

Starsky removed the mask.

“Happy Halloween, partner,” said Starsky and kissed Hutch deeply on the lips.

Hutch smiled. “Happy Halloween to you too, buddy,” and kissed him back just as deeply.

11pm

A love song playing on the record player.

They lay on the couch snuggled together under a blanket, arms wrapped around each other in a tender embrace. Two near-empty mugs of hot chocolate that Hutch had whipped up from scratch rested on the coffee table. It had turned out to be an unusually chilly evening and they had cranked up the fireplace for the first time since last winter.

They had tomorrow off and planned on spending the entire day together in bed.

And they did.

Flourish. Exeunt.