ROAD WORK AHEAD: EXPECT DELAYS
CHAPTER 3
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Fifteen minutes later made no difference in the position of the traffic. The same green Chevy sputtered in front of Hutch's LTD. The same flagman stood by the side of the road with flag in hand. But one difference was, he'd been joined by two other orange vested workers. The three of them shared a joke and smoked their cigarettes.
Starsky turned off the ignition, as had many of the cars around them.
The inside of the car was stuffy. All the windows were down but no hint of a breeze to cool down the occupants. It grew quiet as Starsky continued to glare at the men standing on the side of the road. Hutch took advantage of the quiet and the stillness. He had his head back against the seat and his eyes closed. He hoped that by doing so, it would prevent Starsky from launching into another verbal attack of the road crew or worse yet, try engaging him in a game of trivia.
He raised his hand to absently scratch at his neck.
Hutch felt another sting to his arm and scratched again.
"Hey, what's the matter with you? Hutch? The blond's peace shattered as he felt a punch to his upper arm.
He lifted his head and turned toward Starsky, slowly opening both eyes. The itchy feeling had moved to his ankle as he bent down to scratch. Fully awake, he concentrated on his ankle, trying to relieve whatever had caused the distraction.
"What the hell?" Starsky stared in alarm as red welts suddenly appeared on Hutch's neck and hand.
Hutch slapped at his knee. "I think I'm being attacked by ants!" All of the sudden more tiny black moving dots appeared. They showed up on Hutch's shirt, and then Starsky found one on his own leg. The dark haired man scratched his head while at the same time, opening the car door.
He jumped out, stomping his feet and brushing his hands down his arms and legs in an attempt to shake off the offending insects.
"It figures this damn car would be a breading ground for roaches," Starsky mumbled, as he reached toward the driver's seat to brush at unseen critters.
Swatting at the gathering of ants, Hutch grumbled back at Starsky.
"My car is not infested with roaches, mushbrain, they're ants! Now, forget the car seat, help me!" Hutch fumbled for the door handle, which broke off in his hand.
"Starsky!" ,he yelled. The driver ducked his head to see Hutch fuming. Starsky couldn't tell if his face was red because he was mad or if it was due to the fast developing hives appearing all over the blonds' face and neck.
Quickly, he ran around to the passenger door to open it. Hutch jumped out and started the same stomping dance Starsky had performed. He stripped off his shirt which revealed more welts along his chest.
"Don't blame me like I know ya want to buddy. Remember, this is your car", Starsky complained, as he searched the back seat for the thermos of water and a rag.
While Hutch continued slapping at the insects, Starsky rummaged around the back seat of the LTD. He came up with the thermos of water and handed it to his friend. Hutch gratefully opened the lid and poured some on his chest. The cool water helped soothe the sting, evidenced by Hutch's sigh of relief.
Hutch lost track of Starsky and really wasn't paying attention to the continuous ramblings he heard coming from the back seat. It wasn't until his friend grew quiet that Hutch turned back toward the interior of the car.
"Starsky? Hey,…" Hutch could see a jean clad leg sticking out of the back seat. He winced as he noticed the different things taking up space in the back of his car. He saw a book, How To Grow A Happy Fern and grabbed for it. He'd bought the book a month ago while on dinner break but forgot about it when they'd been involved in a car chase.
"Huuttccchh!", Starsky bellowed as he backed out of the car. His hair held a few gum wrappers and a once white sock peeked out of his shirt pocket. In his hand, was a sandwich sized plastic bag; the contents at first unknown.
Hutch stood back, scratching at his collar bone with one hand as he reached with the other to grab the bag. He looked sheepishly at his friend. At that moment, he longed for the cleaner confines of the Torino. He knew he was in for a large dose of the – 'I told you so's'- from his partner.
"Uhh, thanks for finding all this for me. I'd been wondering where that stuff was." Hutch tried to smile but cringed inwardly at the dark look of frustration that met his clear blue eyes.
"Just what the hell is that?" Starsky pointed at the bag Hutch held at arms length between them.
"Well, you see, this book recommended feeding ground up bone meal to plants, particularly ferns, once a month to make them green and hearty. I.. bought the book and I collected the chicken bones.", Hutch pointed again to the dingy, gray bag, "but guess I forgot about them both huh?"
Obviously the bones had become food for something other than the intended plants. Little black dots slid around the inside of the bag. The chicken bones were no longer white, but black with the ants which now called the contents home and dinner.
During this whole scene the traffic hadn't moved but the men had attracted the attention of more than just ants. People in the cars directly in front of and behind their car had gathered outside of their vehicles, watching the men dance around. But everyone quickly forgot about the entertainment when the cars began to move forward.
Hutch didn't move fast enough so Starsky hopped behind the wheel and moved the car to the side of the road. They needed to get rid of the offending chicken bones and somehow get Hutch taken care of before they took off. Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
This was turning out to be one hell of a day.