Ouch!
June 1976
"Mr Hutchinson! Oh, Mr Hutchinson!"
Hutch was just on his way home, from his usual Saturday morning run around the area where he now lived, when he heard someone calling his name. He'd only been at the apartment at Venice Place for a couple of months and he was already getting to know his neighbours quite well. Kiko's mother had said it was a friendly place to live and she was right. He jogged across the street to where Mrs Wilson stood, leaning over her garden fence and looking enquiringly at him.
"Morning, Mrs Wilson. What can I do for you?"
"Well, young man, I wondered if you might have a few minutes to spare to help me with a trailing rose that's causing me trouble."
"Of course. It would be a pleasure."
Mrs Wilson led Hutch across her small front yard, which was stuffed with plants of all shapes and sizes, along the side of the little house and round the back to a small garden, which was also brim full of plants. It was an odd shaped garden and built slightly on a slope. Trailing along a broad wooden fence at the back of the property, Hutch could see the rose in question: an American Pillar, with its bright pink flower buds just about to bloom. Bursting out from the neatly tied strands were three or four long, green spurs of new growth.
"I bet this looks wonderful when it's all in bloom," Hutch said.
"It certainly does," Mrs Wilson replied. "Come and have a coffee with me in two weeks' time and you'll be able to see it in all its glory!"
"Thanks, I'd like that. Now, what would you like me to do exactly?"
Mrs Wilson handed him a pair of thick gloves, a ball of string and some scissors.
"Well, see how that shoot is coming forwards like that. It needs to go that way, don't you think? And that one there? Well, if you could tie it in on the left, I think it would look much tidier. I'd do it myself but my nephew has banned me from climbing up there anymore. He's worried about me breaking a hip or some such nonsense."
"Well, I'm happy to have a go," Hutch said, as he set about putting on the gloves.
From inside the house, there was the sound of a ringing telephone.
"Oh, I'll just go see who that is and then I'll make you a cold lemonade for your trouble," Mrs Wilson said.
Hutch nodded his thanks then turned his attention to the rose, treading carefully between the many delicate plants in the flower bed, heading up the incline that was steeper than it had at first appeared to his assessing eye. He tried to find some purchase on the ground in front of the many-thorned beauty that required his attention.
"Well, now, let's see," Hutch muttered.
He decided to start with the smallest shoot first and successfully tied it in on the lowest wire that adorned the fence. Then he peered at the longest shoot that had curled itself over until it was heading away from where it really should be. The end tip of it was also starting to tangle in another shoot lower down. Hutch teased the thorny limb carefully back towards him and tried to ease it sideways to where he could tie it up. Suddenly, as if it had been possessed by a malicious spirit the thick green shoot pinged back towards its original place, scraping across Hutch's back as it did so and impaling its thorny fingers into his t-shirt.
Shocked with pain, Hutch swore and then clamped his mouth shut, hoping that Mrs Wilson hadn't heard him. He tried to take a step to the side to disentangle himself from the evil creature that held him in its clutches. Forgetting that he was on an incline, he stumbled slightly, tried to avoid Mrs Wilson's prize Lupins and somehow found himself with another thorny shoot wrapped around his shorts and digging in painfully.
He paused, frozen in mid-action, trying to breathe through the pain and wondering just how he was going to get himself out of this predicament. He didn't want to call Mrs Wilson as he knew she would be mortified if she thought he had been hurt doing the job she had asked him to do. No, he'd just have to get himself unstuck.
Gingerly, he leant forward to try to pry the lower shoot from his legs. As he did so, the thorns that were stuck in his back scraped across his skin and then finally pinged away from him, taking some of his t-shirt with them.
With clenched teeth and thinking some very unkind thoughts towards the rose, Hutch removed the small piece of material from his thorny enemy and hid it in his pocket. Then he battled the springy monster into place and tied it up with vicious pleasure.
"That'll teach you," he muttered.
Finally, he tied the last shoots into place and carefully made his way back down the bank. Mrs Wilson was just returning with some glasses of lemonade. Hutch hurriedly turned so that his back was hidden from view.
"Oh Mr Hutchinson, that looks so much better. Thank you."
"Anytime," Hutch said.
He drained his lemonade and chatted for a moment before making his excuses and heading home. Once in his apartment, he peeled off his t-shirt carefully, sure that he could still feel some thorns lingering in the material. He went into the bathroom and tried to look at his back in the mirror. Craning his neck to see, he spotted one long thin scratch right between the shoulder blades. There were a few tiny spots of blood. Not as bad as he had feared but painful none the less. He took some antiseptic cream from the wall cupboard and tried to rub some of it into his back. Because the scratch was right between the shoulder blades, he couldn't quite reach it.
He'd hoped not to have to mention the incident to his partner but he was going to need help to get the cream on the small wound. Sighing and bracing himself for the inevitable, he picked up the phone and dialled. Even before Starsky answered, Hutch swore he could hear his friend's laughter.