CHAPTER SEVEN

Huggy Bear Brown was an entrepreneur in every sense of the word. Very few people knew the tall, thin black man's given name besides his mother, a few close friends and the IRS. For the past three years, he had owned and operated a lucrative bar and grill in Bay City called The Pits. It had a widespread reputation for it's friendly, relaxed atmosphere where trouble was kept to a minimum, good food that was reasonably priced, and some of the prettiest and sexiest waitresses in town.

Huggy was busy tending bar when he noticed the lean, muscularly build man with the scuffed leather jacket and the thick dark curls walk in the door. With a huge grin on his face, he hurried out from behind the bar and cried out, "Starsky! When did you get back in town?"

David, better known to his friends in Bay City simply as Starsky, grinned as the two men hugged in a heartfelt embrace. They had met their freshman year in high school just after Starsky moved to Bay City to live with his aunt and uncle. Huggy, as he was known even then, had helped the troubled teen adjust to his new life on the west coast and they had quickly became the best of friends. Both raised on the inner city streets, one in New York and the other in Los Angeles, they had understood each other and formed an alliance almost immediately. Cast into an upper middle class neighborhood and going to a school where he was ridiculed for his clothes and his Brooklyn accent, Starsky hadn't made many friends in those early days, so Huggy had been his only ally.

Huggy had kept in touch with Starsky's aunt and uncle over the years and knew about the brunet's miraculous rescue from a POW camp in Viet Nam after five years of being presumed dead by his friends and his family. To say that he was overjoyed to see his old friend, alive and well, frankly would have been an understatement.

"I just got in on the bus about an hour ago." Starsky told him as the two friends pulled apart. "And I sure could use a cold one."

"Coming right up, my white brother." Huggy said "Find a booth and park it."

Starsky moved to an empty booth near the back of the room and sat down. Since he had been sitting in a cramped bus seat for the past three days, it felt good to be able to stretch out his legs and slouch down so he could take some of the pressure off his lower back. Huggy came to the table carrying a tray which a large pitcher of ice cold beer, two glasses, a bowl of pretzels, and two sandwiches that immediately caught Starsky's attention after eating out of vending machines at the rest stops for most of his journey.

When Huggy sat one of the plates in front of him, he immediately picked up the sandwich and took a healthy bite. It was a juicy steak sandwich smothered with onions and garnished with steak sauce. Starsky ate half of his sandwich before stopping to wash it down with a long drink of the icy cold brew that Huggy had poured into the glasses.

Huggy watched his old friend with a huge smile on his face. Starsky had regained most of the weight he had lost in Viet Nam but he still had about ten pounds to go before he would be back up to his usual weight of one seventy-five.

"Glad to see your little vacation didn't affect your appetite any." Huggy teased him, familiar with his friends cast iron stomach and usually ravenous appetite.

"Yeah, right." Starsky snorted "It took me weeks after I got back home to be able to eat much at all without tossing it back up."

"So how are you?" Huggy asked, his tone turning serious. "Are you doing okay?"

"As well as can be expected I guess." Starsky said, deftly avoiding a more definite answer. He looked across the table at his old friend, knowing he would understand. "I really don't wanna talk about it, Hug."

"Say no more…the subject is closed. Why'd you come back here? I thought you were gonna stay in New York for good this time."

"So did I…but it's just not home there anymore." he sighed heavily as he finished his beer and poured himself another glass. "Besides…things weren't going too well and I was scared that if I stayed I'd end up picking up old habits again."

"Like boosting cars?"

"Among other things."

"So, are you gonna be staying with Rosie and Al?" Huggy asked, referring to his aunt and uncle.

"No…I don't think so. I'd kinda like to find a place of mine eventually. I was hoping maybe you could put me up for a while." he asked hopefully.

"You got it. I got an empty room right upstairs that you're welcome to use as long as you need to."

"Thanks, Huggy. I knew I could count on you." He finished his sandwich and eyed Huggy's untouched one. Huggy grinned and shoved the plate across the table towards him.

"Help yourself. I just ate anyway."

"Thanks, man." Starsky said, smiling his trademark thousand watt grin that seemed to light up his entire face. He began on the second sandwich with unfettered enthusiasm. For the first time in months, the brunet finally felt at peace with himself. The anger still boiled just beneath the surface but he could control it better here where he felt safe and among friends. He believed that he had made the right decision to return to Bay City. Even though New York had been his home longer, here was where he felt as if he belonged.

"Hey, did you bring any stuff with you?" Huggy asked as he watched his friend finish the second sandwich in record time.

"Yeah, I left it in a locker at the bus station till I found out if you could put me up or not." Starsky told him. "I'll go back and get it later. I'm good for now."

"Come on, I'll show you the room" Huggy said, rising gracefully to his feet. Starsky followed his friend through the crowded bar to a partially concealed stairway at the front of the room near the bar. The two men climbed the steps to the second floor, where Huggy unlocked the only door on the landing. He stepped aside and ushered his old friend inside.

The room was fairly large with a private bathroom. A table and two chairs sat underneath a tiny window overlooking the alley and a small three drawer dresser sat against the far wall. A tiny alcove to the left hid a double bed covered with a brightly decorated spread. The room was open and inviting, perfect for Starsky's basic needs.

"This is great, Hug. Thanks." Starsky said

"No problem, my friend." Huggy said, handing him the key to the room. "It's yours for as long as you need it. No offense but I gotta run before my staff steals me blind." he chuckled under his breath as he let himself out of the room, leaving Starsky alone to explore his new surroundings.

Smiling to himself, Starsky threw himself down on the bed and stretched out. It had been a long trip and he was exhausted. He'd rest for a while before returning to the bus station to collect his duffle bag. His eyes soon drifted shut as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

The tiny cage sat in the middle of a large clearing with no shelter from the elements. Starsky sat huddled in one corner of the wooden enclosure, shivering in spite of the blazing sun that was beating down from above. His hair and beard was long and matted with tangles. His battered, emaciated body covered with bruises and open wounds, most of them infected and seeping a foul smelling discharge. Most of his fingernails and toenails were missing, the nail beds infected and extremely painful. He could no longer walk and was too weak to move around much. Thirst and hungry were his constant companions. He was dying and he knew it, he prayed for death to come swiftly and take him away from this living hell. He didn't fear death. He welcomed it with open arms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, no longer aware of his surroundings. He didn't even notice when the door to his cage opened and his captors reached in to grab him, pulling him from the cage.

Starsky's eyes flew open, his face drenched with sweat, his breathing harsh and erratic. His gaze flew around his unfamiliar surroundings as he scrambled off the bed and huddled in a corner of the room with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. A ragged sob tore from his throat as he buried his face against his knees and struggled to control the abject terror that clouded his mind.