The greatest healing therapy is friendship and love.
CHAPTER 7
BECOMING HUTCH
Ken stopped at the information desk to ask directions to David's room. He was given a police visitor's badge to wear while in that part of the hospital. They still were being careful in case there was any backlash from the trial. James Gunther still had many friends with strong connections, so they did not want to take any chances in terms of revenge or unwanted visitors. The Captain had called ahead to alert the guard, giving permission for Ken's visit.
As the elevator doors opened, his nose twitched at the antiseptic smell that greeted him. Ken hated hospitals. About a year ago he'd injured his back and had spent two weeks on complete bed rest and traction. Van came once. She said there was too much sadness there and the chairs were too uncomfortable. Alone, he'd put up with the boredom, pain and the embarrassment of a catheter and the worst thing of all-- sponge baths!
As he rounded the corner at the nurse's station, he saw the guard sitting in front of a hospital room. He headed that way and introduced himself to the older cop. While Bernie checked Ken's name on the list and engaged in some small talk, the blond man gathered up his courage. He was anxious, excited and all of the sudden, unsure about what he was about to do.
Ken felt a sneeze building so he squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to cut off the pressure he felt. He only hoped there were no flowers.
'Yeah right!', he thought. 'A hospital room without a fresh arrangement of pollen?'
He took in a deep breath, smiled at the guard, who looked as if he didn't envy the visitor, and pushed open the door to David's room. Even though it was early afternoon and the California sun was hot and bright outside, the room had a hazy cast created by the drawn blinds. The only light came from under the closed bathroom door and the brief slit of illumination that filtered in through the open hallway door. In the few seconds Ken took to absorb the surroundings, he noticed several stuffed animals, dozens of get well cards strewn all over the place, magazines stacked on a night stand and slumped in a recliner with his back to the door, was David Starsky.
And as the intensity of a sneeze grew, Ken also saw a large vase of fresh flowers. He only hoped he could delay the powerful reaction and not have a sneeze interfere with his greeting.
The blond stepped into the room and introduced himself, or at least that's what he intended to do.
"David Starky? I'm Ken Hutch--" Two things happened simultaneously, which did not seem to be a great way to start a conversation.
At the same time Ken grabbed for his handkerchief to block the shattering sneeze, he heard David's demand of--
"Get out!" David didn't turn around when he said it but remained hunched in his chair with his back to his visitor.
Realizing his mistake, Ken swore under his breath both because he'd mangled David's last name and because he felt another sneeze growing. Trying to ignore the warning sign of another allergic reaction which he could feel starting in his toes, the blond decided just to start the whole thing over.
"Starsky? I apologize for screwing up your name but again, I'm Ken Hutch--(achoo!)" Damn, another sneeze in the middle of his name. He gave up with etiquette and decided just to step further into the room and extend his hand as a greeting and as an apology.
As he got nearer, still David didn't turn around or attempt to stand up but again, the blond met with the same command as before, only louder and more insistent with a small attempt at humor thrown in.
"GET OUT-- Hutch!" The shoulders visibly shook with the effort of the emotion and a shaky fist curled up on the arm of the leather chair.
"Sorry, you didn't catch my whole name because of the sneezing, it's--" (--achoo!). As if to make a point, another one took him by surprise before he could even get his handkerchief positioned across his nose and mouth.
David scooted forward on the chair, reached for the walker and slowly stood up, using the walker for support as he'd grudgingly learned in physical therapy. He turned around and that was Ken's first sight of the dark haired man. He didn't have a T-shirt on; instead, his chest was marked by sterile dressings that did little to cover a collection of scars and stitches scattered across the man's chest and stomach. David stood, defying the blond to turn away from the brutal sight. As if challenging the other man, David let the blond take in the whole picture before him. Ken saw, even in the dim light, a drawn face with dark circles under sad eyes. His skin was pale, the lips grey. The bare arms were thin. The hands lay slack on the walker, but the left one shook. The body, obviously ravaged by illness, showed no muscle tone. Ribs were prominent. He wore sweat pants which hung low on his hips, as if nothing was there to keep them up. Hip bones stuck out above the waistband.
David slowly moved toward the vase of flowers. He briefly touched the yellow foliage. He dropped his hand and again without turning around, he spoke to his visitor.
"Here, take these on your way out, I don't need them either. Now-- GET OUT!" Ken saw the thin back slick with sweat. As David turned again, he was breathing heavy with emotion.
Intending to further intimidate his visitor by showing more of the truth, the dark haired man stared darkly at Ken. But the look that passed between the men was staggering for them both. It could have been 10 minutes that they stood staring, reading each other, instead of only a fleeting few seconds. But in that time, the dark haired man saw in those clear blue eyes something puzzling. The blond man did not back down from the second glimpse of raw emotion. David saw in the eyes that stared levelly back at him, acceptance, respect and friendship. As Ken offered himself without words, he saw the truth reflecting back in the sapphire eyes that were locked with his own. Those dark blue eyes showed anger, fear and in their misty depths, Ken also saw the unspoken request for help.
Without warning, another sneeze overtook the blond. The action broke the standoff. David shoved the flowers toward Ken, who grabbed them as he tried to subdue another powerful outburst. Holding the flowers at arms length, he made his way to the nurse's station.
After he set the vase down on the counter, Ken sniffed and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his nose.
"Excuse me. But maybe someone who hasn't had a visitor today would enjoy these flowers. Starsky doesn't seem to care for them and as you heard, they aggravate my allergies!"
The nurse nearest the desk looked over at the handsome blond visitor. She studied him, sure that she'd never met this man before. She looked at David's chart and saw the note from Captain Dobey giving Ken Hutchinson permission to visit David Starsky. She was curious about this new visitor who referred to the man in room 501 by just his last name.
Tammy put the chart down and approached the blond man.
"So he threw you out huh? Even some of the nurses won't go in there. Me... I just wish he'd let somebody help him" The nurse pulled the vase of flowers closer to her and savored their beauty. So much sadness and pain in her job, but it was worth all the heartache.
"Well, he just didn't want the flowers. He only thinks he's seen the last of me!" Ken stood for a minute longer, intentionally giving Starsky time to calm down.
Bernie stood up as Ken came back toward the room. He had heard the harsh words that the dark haired man flung at the blond. He felt like he needed to defend the detective.
"He don't mean nothin'. It's the pain talkin'. He's a good guy. Before all this, he'd be the first to offer help when needed. Now he's just scared." Bernie spoke quietly but his voice was strong, his head held high. He was proud to be a cop and proud of his role as David's guard.
"I know Bernie. I only just met him but he's tough. He wouldn't have made it this far without a hard assed attitude. I appreciate your belief in him, and I know he does too." Ken patted Bernie on the shoulder.
He pushed open the door, ready for another confrontation. But he was determined to find that crack in the wall David had built around himself. Ken sighed as he walked into the dimly lit room. He turned on the small night duty light. This provided the nurse just enough light to check vital signs without turning the glaring fluorescent bulb on above the bed.
He was surprised to find David sitting up in bed, a deck of cards on the table in front of him, as if he was waiting for his visitor to come back.
Ken stood inside the door, considering his next move. He could turn around and walk out. That would be his usual way of dealing with unpleasant situations. But the voice in his head told him to explore the source of the pain that he had witnessed and to find more of that playful spirit that had surfaced briefly.
"Captain Dobey said you'd be in a good mood after lunch. What happened to that?" He remained standing but moved further into the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed; his eyes dancing with humor instead of accusations.
The patient's gaze never wavered from his visitor. A slight grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth. It didn't reach his eyes but it was the first positive emotion to appear on that face in months.
"I wanted a beef and bean burrito with onion. What I got was runny mac-n- cheese and chicken noodle soup." The half smile disappeared as he rubbed his stomach. Eating was still a problem. He could only handle a soft food diet rather than the spicy, rich foods he longed for. He tried to ignore the ever present, nauseous feeling that cramped his stomach.
The detective pushed his hand through his dark curls. He winced and grabbed his stomach as pain flared through his chest and belly.
The blond was startled by the reaction. He moved closer to David, ready to reach for the call button.
"You need help, buddy?" Ken scooped up the cards that sat abandoned on the table. David raised his head off the pillow and sighed before he spoke. He grabbed the cards away from the blond and glared at his visitor.
Frustration bubbled up and finally the dark haired man found the words to express himself. Unfortunately, Ken was the target, not the cause.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Don't think you can come in here and treat me like some lab rat. What gives you the right to poke your nose in my life? You think you're gonna be my saviour? You think you can just pull up a chair and make everything better?" His nose flared with agitation and his eyes grew darker.
He hated the sympathy he saw around him daily, but worse was the cloying way everyone wanted to anticipate his needs. He supposed it was only because people cared, but all it did was to reinforce the message that he was helpless and that he needed to be protected.
Ken backed away, unsure how to respond. Maybe he was being foolhardy, but he didn't take it personally. He saw more than anger smoldering in the eyes that held his gaze. Again, Ken felt challenged. It ws like David wanted to push the blond away, but at the same time, there was a silent plea for understanding. The room was tense; the atmosphere crackled with it.
Ken cleared his throat and ran his hand through his blond hair.
"Are you done with the temper tantrum? What if I promise to smuggle in a burrito without onions, will ya give me a break?"
This time the smile that pulled at the corners of David's mouth stretched into a genuine response. The anger melted away and was replaced with curiosity about this very stubborn and gentle visitor.
"You wanna play Pinouchle?" Without defending himself or apologizing, Starsky invited Hutch to sit and stay. He felt like this man understood him. He hadn't backed down and he was still here, but he still wasn't sure what it was the blond expected from him.
Hutch smiled again. He hadn't expected anything when he'd requested this first meeting. Suddenly, he realized something had passed between them and he had discovered more than he could ever have anticipated. He still saw doubt in the dark blue eyes.The blond wasn't about to push. He didn't want to break the thread of a connection.
Deciding to see where this day would take him, the blond pulled up one of the chairs with a padded seat and back. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and agreed to the game.
"I'm warning you, I'm pretty good at this card game. We had a tournament goin' in college and I was the winner!"
"Terrific." Starsky grumbled under his breath. He slid the cards out of the pack and picked them up in his left hand. The hand shook, separating some of the cards from the deck. They slid across the table and plopped softly on his lap. He let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
"Sorry, my hand's shakin' too much. I won't be able to shuffle the damn cards. It's pretty fuckin' frustrating!"
Hutch silently picked the cards up, shuffled them, then placed the deck back in front of the dark haired man. He cocked his head toward the blond, accepting the gesture. Suddenly, he knew everything would be alright. Without a word, Starsky cut the cards and the game began.
