"Hutch? Hutch?" I heard my name. I thought it was my name. Who kept calling my name?
"Hutch? Come on buddy. Let's get you into bed." I was being lifted, well it was a combination of being lifted and dragged, over to the bedroom. I was starting to feel a little woozy and planted my feet, stopping my forward movement. I heard someone trip and fall. I looked down and saw my partner sprawled on the floor.
"Hutch, what'd ya do that for?" Starsky asked from the floor. Then he looked at me kinda funny. And before I knew it, he was at my side, guiding me to the bathroom, where I proceeded to puke my brains out in the toilet. I really didn't think I would ever stop throwing up. Starsky was leaning over me, rubbing my back. Finally, after some dry heaves, I was finished. I could feel my partner's hands on my arms, easing me up slowly to a standing position. He closed the lid on the toilet and flushed it, then set me down on the seat. He kept one hand on my shoulder, knowing that I was still pretty unsteady and might fall off the toilet without the extra support.
My eyes were shut, so I was surprised to feel the soothing coolness of the wet cloth that my partner had pressed to my forehead. It felt so good.
I had been feeling hot and had a headache all afternoon. When we finished up for the day, Starsky drove me straight home and told me to take some aspirin and go to bed. He left, heading home to get ready for a date.
I sat on the couch and decided that I was done for the day. There was no chance of getting off of the couch. I didn't want to eat. I didn't have the energy to get to the bedroom. And I definitely didn't have it in me to find the Tylenol. I decided I would just die on my couch that night.
I know I fell asleep at some point, but I tossed and turned on the couch, growing hotter and developing an ache in my back. And that's when Starsk showed up.
He removed the cool, wet cloth, which I missed immediately. He gave me a glass of water and told me to rinse my mouth. I did as I was told. Then my partner helped me up and to the bedroom. He pushed me softly onto the bed. "Hutch, can you get your clothes off?" I think Starsky asked me something just then. I was having a real hard time concentrating on words.
I watched my partner unbutton my shirt and remove it. Then he pushed me back on the bed and unzipped my pants. I started to laugh. "Hutch, it would help if you'd lift your hips up a second." I laughed again and said, "I'll bet." I think I heard him say, "Oh, brother." And I laughed at that, too.
I was still lying on the bed, my feet touching the floor. I wondered how long he was going to make me stay like this, because there was no way I was going to be able to sit up on my own. First, I didn't have the energy. Second, the room was spinning as it was. Trying to get up would just make the whole room tilt right out of the apartment.
I felt something soft and warm on my legs. I think I moaned, a satisfied moan, and I heard a pretty annoyed, "Hutch!" come from my partner. Then, Starsky grabbed both of my hands and lifted me up to a sitting position. I smiled at my best friend. He grinned back at me and shook his head. Then, he lifted me up and leaned me against his chest while he pulled the warm, soft pajama bottoms up to my waist.
"Hutch, sit." I sat. He seemed to be having fun with this. No, maybe that was me. Just as quickly as I was laughing, I felt like I was going to be sick again. And again, Starsky was right there, helping me up to the bathroom one more time. This time wasn't as bad. More dry heaves than anything else. I was feeling pretty weak now and wasn't having fun anymore.
Again Starsky helped me to the bed. He pulled my t-shirt off over my head and put my pajama top on and buttoned it up. He tucked me in and left the room. Again, I felt the sudden coolness of the wet washcloth. "Hey babe, you're feeling pretty bad, huh?" Starsky, the master of understatement, at least today.
"Yeah." I laid my head heavily against the pillow, trying to breathe easier from the last bout of nausea.
"Yeah." My partner sat on the edge of the bed and wiped my face with the cloth, and then wiped down either side of my neck and down my chest. I know I was running a temperature, but it wasn't too bad just yet.
Starsky got up and left the room again. I wish he'd sit down for a minute; he was making me dizzy, which was not a good thing.
I felt the bed move again. I opened my eyes to the intense stare of my best friend. "I need ya to take these. Here's some water." He handed me three Tylenol. I took them with the water. Then I put my head back on the pillow. I felt Starsky's warm hand push the hair off of my forehead. And then I shot off the pillow. Starsky forced me back down.
"Whoa, there, Blondie. What do ya think you're doing?"
"Starsk, you had a date tonight. What are you doing here?" I can't believe he broke a date to take care of me. It was just the flu.
"Well, I'll tell ya, and then you're gonna try and get some sleep. Deal?" He gave me the 'don't even try fighting me' look.
"Deal." I was pretty tired and figured I would fall asleep soon enough. Might as well let him think he won this one.
"Okay. So, Janey…"
I interrupted. "Janey? She finally agreed to go out with you?"
"Very funny. So, Janey and I went to that nice Italian restaurant…" Here we go. "…you know the one over on Ventura? Anyway, we get there and they serve our salad and I mentioned that you were sick. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her. And then I told her how guilty I felt leaving you alone like that. I said that we usually took care of each other when we were sick, and then I guess I got a little carried away and mentioned things like, you know, what would happen to you if you choked on something in your weakened state, or what if you tried to get up and got dizzy and passed out." I was staring at him like he'd gone insane.
"Starsk, it's just the flu!"
"I know that. I guess, you know, I just got carried away thinking about all these things that could happen. They could happen, Hutch." He was trying to justify what he was going to tell me next, loving sincerity all over his face.
"Anyway, Janey used to be a nurse and she couldn't take it any more. She told me to go see my partner and make sure you were all right." He had his head down, and looked up at me sheepishly. His mouth was set in a crooked grin and his face showed the satisfaction of a man happy with his choice. I loved him for that.
"So, you think you have any shot at seeing her again after tonight's performance?" He didn't seem overly upset; I think he already knew the answer to that question.
"She said she expected a rain check." And again, the devilish Starsky grin. "Okay. Sleep. I'll be in the other room if you need anything." He gripped my shoulder firmly, and then left the room.
I was feeling better already. I was pretty sure it was just a twenty-four hour bug and it would be over in no time. But I had to admit that there is nothing like having my partner, my best friend, around when I'm not feeling well. I know this is going to sound weird, and I don't ever wish to be ill, but I looked forward to each time I was sick. My partner's caring and concern always made me feel better. For that I was forever grateful.
The End