Am I Ready?
"Am I ready?" Hutch asked himself as they sped through the streets, remembering the conversation of a few minutes ago.
Dobey had called, not Mildred, but Dobey, about another overdose. Hutch had heard Starsky arguing with their Captain as he approached the car, his hands full of lunch.
"But Cap, Hutch ain't ready for somethin' like this now. He's still tryin' to get over that weekend. If we go, I don't know what it will do to him." Starsky pleaded into the mike.
"Starsky," Dobey's voice full of concern. "I know that Hutch is still recovering from Forrest. I don't even think he's ready to be on the street. But, I don't have any other choice!"
Hutch had seen Starsky blow out his breath in frustration, the mike hanging loosely from his hand draped across the steering wheel. He caught Starsky's quick glance out the window, knowing he had heard the whole conversation.
Getting in the car, lunch being tossed in the nearest dumpster, Hutch looked at Starsky.
"Starsk," Hutch said quietly, looking into his partner's eyes and seeing them go from ice blue anger to cool blue worry in a flash. "I'm OK, I can do this. It's been two months since Forrest. I can't keep running from cases like this, you and Dobey can't keep protecting me. I'm ready, I can do this."
Hutch reached out and gently took the mike from Starsky, who resisted ever so slightly. He never stopped looking at Hutch, who never stopped looking at Starsky. Hutch knew Starsky was looking for the slightest bit of hesitancy and, if he saw it, they would be going nowhere.
"Cap," Hutch said. "We're going. We'll be there in just a few minutes."
"All right," came the worried voice over the mike. A voice that belonged not to the Captain, but to the man who cared for these two like his own sons. "Just be careful Hutch, both of you. First sign of any trouble, get out of there. I mean that."
Minutes later, the Torino screeched to a halt in front of the old, tired building.
"Hey Hutch," Starsky said coming around the car faster than normal. "There's a lot of people out here, why dont'cha stay down here and talk with them. Maybe they saw somethin' or someone. I can handle upstairs, if I need ya, I'll call ya."
Again, those blue eyes, the windows to Starsky's soul were pleading in words that didn't need to be spoken. Words that said 'stay here buddy, it's safe.'
"OK Starsk," Hutch said gently, touching the arm of his partner, his friend, his brother. "I'll stay down here and check around. But if there's any trouble or problems, you come get me right away, you hear!" adding emphasis by pointing his finger to Starsky.
The worry of the world melted off Starsky as he flashed his million watt smile to Hutch.
"You got it partner," he said cuffing Hutch on the arm. "Shouldn't take too long. Maybe after this we can go get lunch, seein' as how our first lunch ended up in the trash can."
Hutch laughed in amazement as his partner turned and ran into the building. Only Starsky could think of food at a time like this, or at any time for that matter.
An hour later, Hutch had talked with all the witnesses, gotten an earful from folks in the neighborhood about crime, and done all he could do. Leaning against the Torino, he glanced up to the second floor, wondering how Starsky was doing.
"Dammit," he said to himself in frustration, "I'm a cop! I am ready, I can do this." And, before he could talk himself out of it, Hutch walked into the building. While a small voice in his head still asked, "Am I ready?"
He strode purposefully into the room, and stopped cold when he saw the body on the floor. Again, the voice in his head asking, "Am I ready?"
Hutch looked down at the young girl, wondering at the cruelty of her death. He knew there was no one to hold her, to give her comfort and warmth, while offering encouragement to fight and live. No one to hold her, to keep the demons away with arms wrapped tightly around her in protection and love.
Hutch heard Starsky talking behind him. He knew Starsky was watching, ready to be by his side if Hutch were to falter.
Taking a ragged breath, willing himself to be a cop, Hutch bent down to look at the young girl. "Am I ready?" the voice in his head still asked as he reached out to touch her. He stopped, seeing a small sheen of the powder that can cause so much ecstasy and so much hell. Just a little residue on a peaceful face that was tormented just a while ago.
"God help me," Hutch said to himself, closing his eyes, "I want to touch that powder, I want to feel it sing in my blood again, to feel the ecstasy of it flowing through my veins."
Hutch reached out, to touch it, to taste it, to feel it.
"Hutch," came the quiet, gentle voice of his protector. Starsky's voice keeping those demons from pulling him into that blackness again. In anger and frustration, Hutch pulled away.
"Hell no, I am not ready," he said standing, looking down on the girl again. He turned and walked out the door, knowing that Starsky would be there for him, saddened that no one was there for her.
Months Later:
"What do you know about it?" Belinda said loudly to Hutch, her hands shaking as the withdrawal demon sunk its claws deeper into her. Vic Rankin, her chance at keeping that demon away, had gone out the window, thanks to these two cops. The fact she had sold him out for a hit of heroin not even registering.
Looking at her, Hutch thought, "Yeah, I do know. I know the joy of the high and the pain of the low. I know the cold, desperate feeling of being lost and alone. I do know."
Hutch turned his head ever so slightly. He knew Starsky was back there, still behind him, still protecting him. He could feel Starsky reaching across the space between them, feel that gentle invisible touch of visible love.
"Yeah," he thought to himself again, "But, I also know what it's like to have love, gentle hands, friendship, and a tender voice to carry me through all those terrible things. I know all about it, all about the love of a friend who is with you always.
Finally…Hutch knew he was ready.