Chapter 25
Traff walked slowly by the side of his friend as they made their way along the white sand. The afternoon was beautiful, the sunshine streaming down from an azure sky which was almost the same shade as Starsky's eyes. Overhead, gulls cried their plaintive song and circled the water looking for their next meal. Ordinarily, the soldier loved the ocean and the beach, feeling freer here than anywhere else in the world. He enjoyed the feel on the grains of sand between his toes as his sandaled feet sank into the powdery surface and luxuriated in the feel of the sun, warm on his shoulders.
"Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy. Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry". John Denver's mellow voice sounded in his ears and if this had been any other day, he'd probably have started warbling along to the tune in his head. But today, his heart was heavy and he had a feeling of foreboding. He didn't really want to do this. He didn't want to pick a fight with his best friend even though he had the unshakable conviction that this was the only way to get under Starsky's skin and break through the seemingly impenetrable barrier in the brunet's head.
He looked around, seeing the dark wooden jetty far off in the distance, and the speck of the brown car with the waiting blond inside it. And he sighed.
Fine Tommy boy. This was your big idea. Now or never.
'How're ya doin' Curly?' he asked, hoping the change of surroundings would make a difference and maybe he wouldn't have to do this. He looked critically at Starsky. The two weeks at home had taken their toll on him. His jeans didn't cling quite so snugly to his lean hips and there was a haunted, ragged look in eyes which were circled by dark rings. He received no reply, although Starsky stopped walking when he stopped. But there was still a blank look in the eyes and his friends face held no hint of emotion. A ruggedly handsome, somewhat bruised blank canvass.
'Dave you're gonna have to talk some time ya know. We're getting' mightily sick of the silent treatment'.
Still nothing. No raise of the eyebrows, no hitch in the breath. No reaction.
Oh Curly. Don't make me do this, please don't. C'mon, gimme a sign here. Throw me a line. Smile. Do sumthin!
'You ignorant bastard. Answer me! D'ya think Hutch 'n me want to stick around if ya won't talk to us?' Traff hated himself as he saw a look of pain flash for the briefest instant across his buddy's face. But at least it was some kind of reaction and he knew he needed to keep going.
'For Gods sake answer me!' he snarled.
'No'. The one word answer was quiet, Starsky's voice low and halting.
Great! An answer. Keep it goin'. Get him mad an' he'll snap back…..I hope.
'Oh so ya can talk! What's the matter? We haven't been worth talkin' to. Coz let me tell you Curly boy, we won't be assed around any more, 'less ya start answerin' back'.
Starsky gazed at his friend as though Traff had suddenly grown two heads and the soldier almost lost the contents of his stomach on the sand. But he knew he'd started this and he needed to see it through if he was going to have any hope of his "therapy" working.
'Oh ya can hear me then! Fine. What's the matter curly top? Words not enough for ya? Actions better? Ya want me to maybe feel you up? Is that how ya respond these days?'
Oh shit! Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Too far, you've gone too far. Stop! Enough! Don't go on, you're hurtin' him too much!
'Was my fault' the brunet said softly.
'Oh for fucks sake! What was? The rape? How'd ya figure that?'
'Dunno'. Traff was reminded of a small boy who'd been caught playing truant from school. Not his fault, it was someone else who made him.
I can't do this. I'm hurting him.
But you're getting a reaction! He's talking. There's animation in his eyes.
But can I carry on?
Shit this hurts me almost as much as it hurts him!
Well just get on with it. Go for the jugular an' see what ya get.
'Coz ya liked it? Coz maybe it made you feel like a man? Or maybe ya get your kicks from hitting women?'
Traff closed his eyes as he said the last few words. Tough as he was he couldn't stand the look of pained accusation in those indigo eyes as the sentence registered with the brunet. But he was completely unprepared for what happened next.
With lightening speed considering how stiff his body had been over the past few days, Starsky spun on his heel, and with all his strength behind it, he threw a punch at Traff's chin. The soldier spun backwards and landed on his back in the shallow water, surprise keeping him from balancing and immediately Starsky was upon him, his knees straddling the soldier's midriff as Traff tried desperately to dodge the myriad of blows that were raining down on him.
He rolled them both over in the warm water, trying to catch a hold of the brunet's flailing arms as Starsky fought with him in the surf. Both men fought for the upper hand, but whereas Traff was trying to be careful not to hurt his friend too much, Starsky was lost in his rage. All the pent up feelings of the past months flowed out now, though his fists and into his target. Traff and Hutch thought he was bad for not fighting off Lewis. Well he thought he was a wimp too. But now he'd show them He'd show them just how much of a man he really was. He'd kill 'em. Kill 'em all. In Starsky's eyes he no longer saw his friend, he saw Shane Lewis leering up at him, the watery blue eyes sparkling into his as he tried to punch the memory.
Traff yelled at him. 'Curly….Dave……hey c'mon, snap out of it' but pretty soon the soldier's breath was all taken up with dodging the punches and being careful of those that he managed to land. He was almost at his wits end. What was he supposed to do now? This wasn't how it was supposed to pan out at all. He'd planned it so that he'd goad the brunet into some sort of reaction then maybe Starsky would break down, yell, maybe cry and at the end of it be the same Starsky that he's always known. Even back in 'Nam, Curly had never behaved like this. Maybe he should just knock him out cold?
But all thoughts of the fight flew from his head as Starsky seemed to get renewed vigour. Suddenly the attack redoubled in force and the brunet flipped his friend over in the shallow water, forcing Traff's head beneath the surface. Struggling now for his life, the soldier prized himself up, thanking the fact that his friend was not as yet at full strength. He pushed upwards with all his might and managed to struggle round beneath the lithe body above him. Thinking that maybe face to face he may be able to reason with the brunet, Traff opened his mouth to speak, only to see a fist driving like a pile driver into his cheek. The last thing he remembered thinking was that while Starsky may not be well yet, he could still pack a punch, when suddenly the lights went out.
As Traff's body went limp below him, Starsky came slowly back to his senses. Gone was the frightening vision of Shane Lewis and with the reality check came the knowledge that he'd just knocked one of his best friends into unconsciousness. Starsky looked down at the handsome and blood spattered face with sorrow and wearily he got to his feet, dragging the body of the soldier out of the surf and further up the beach to safety. He knelt by the side of his friend and felt for the pulse in his neck. It was there, strong and steady. Great. Out cold, but no major injuries to worry about. Other than the fact he could cheerfully have killed his ex army buddy a few minutes ago he felt fine. But there again, a few minutes ago, all the brunet had seen before him had been his rapist leering up at him.
Starsky got to his feet and staggered a few feet away. Dropping to his knees, he deposited his lunch onto the sand, heaving until all he brought up was filthy water. He stayed, braced on his arms and head hanging down for several seconds, wondering what he was going to do now. He'd just fought with his friend because of Shane Lewis. He'd beaten his girl because of Shane Lewis. Hutch had been hurt because of Shane Lewis. And the whole of the precinct……maybe the whole of Bay City thought it was his fault because of Shane Lewis. There was no way he wanted to hang around. There wasn't much point in waiting. After the fight, he felt that Traff and probably Hutch too would want to distance themselves from him. After all, he'd been a royal pain in the butt to the both of them.
No, it was better if he just left. With him out of their lives they'd be able to get on with things. Without him there like the proverbial thorn, they could carry on. He couldn't face the goodbyes and he couldn't face the accusation he felt Hutch would surely heap upon him and so he swiftly searched Traff's wet shirt and came up with a wallet containing credit cards and 100 in small bills. He took the money but left the cards, carefully tucked the billfold back into his friends shirt pocket and with a final look at his friend he got up and staggered off down the beach trying to blot out the ache in his head and the heaviness in his heart.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Hutch sat in the car watching the sun starting to dip down in the sky. He fished his half hunter watch out of his pocket and stared at the hands for the hundredth time. Three hours! It was too long. Something must have gone wrong. Hutch's "partner senses" were on high alert and much as he loved and trusted Traff, he felt that maybe this treatment was just too heavy handed and barbaric. Getting out of the car, he took his binoculars out of the trunk and focussed them on the place he'd last seen Traff and Starsky, way off down the beach.
He didn't see either of them now. The white sand ended in a rocky headland a little way further down and the blond didn't think they'd have both climbed over the jagged rocks there. So where were they? Something like panic clawed at his chest as he started to walk from the car, down to the water where the sand was packed harder and the walking was easier. Steadily he walked towards the headland, his eyes scanning continually up and down the sandy beach for his two friends. Two grown men couldn't just disappear, surely! They had to be around here somewhere. Hutch cursed under his breath. He cursed Shane Lewis, Joe Newman, Dougy Stuart and all lawyers. This was their fault! If it hadn't been for the trial, this would never have happened and he and his partner would be back on the streets, working, playing and picking up the threads of their lives.
Lost in his dark thoughts, Hutch reached the rocky outcrop at the end of the beach and slowly turned back. He couldn't have missed them could he? Two six foot tall men? He looked back the way he'd come. Some of his footprints were washed away by the small waves lapping at the shore, but ahead, picked out in stark relief by the lengthening shadows of the evening sun, he saw two parallel lines up from the water to higher ground. Hutch surged forward and followed the lines up the beach and over a small rise in the sand. There. laid out in the sun was the unconscious form of the soldier, arms thrown wide and eyes closed. Hutch cursed and sank to his knees besides the limp form, noting the fresh cuts and bruises marring the handsome face.
'Traff. Can ya hear me? Tom?'
He heard a low groan and with relief saw the emerald green eyes blink open. Traff groaned again and rubbed his hand over his eyes as he tried to sit up.
'What happened? Where's Starsky?' Hutch asked.
'Aww shit. Fuck!'
'Gone? Gone where? What happened?' Hutch persisted.
Traff sat up and pulled his knees up so that he could rest his elbows on them. He ran his fingers through his short curls and sighed. 'It was goin' pretty well. I was startin' to get some reaction from him, so I ploughed on. Oh God! I'm such a stupid fuckin' moron! I thought I could get through to him, I really thought I was makin' progress. And then I kinda mentioned Molly and…..'
'What?' Hutch asked carefully
'He hit me! He just turned on me like he'd lost his mind and started walin' away at me. Took me all my time to hold him off' Traff snorted. 'Didn't do too good a job, did I?'
'Are you ok?'
The soldier considered. 'Yeah, nothin's broken, 'cept maybe my pride got a bit dented. Where is he?' he asked, looking around.
Hutch looked concerned. 'That's what I was gonna ask you'.