Chapter 19

August 12th, 1989

Hutch sighed as he looked around the tiny cluttered apartment. Unopened boxes were stacked against one wall and piles of clothes lay on the bed sitting against the far wall. After trying to make their marriage work for the past three years, Lizzie and Hutch had agreed to a trial separation. Hutch had been the one to move out and into an apartment in Venice. It wasn't far from the apartment where he had lived during his bachelor days. He enjoyed the familiarity of the neighborhood and the nearby beach.

In his heart, Hutch knew that he was just postponing the inevitable. But, even though a second failed marriage seemed to loom in his future, he wasn't ready to admit that it was over. Hutch had realized that he really didn't love Lizzie the way she needed or deserved to be loved. He was just trying to fill the void that was in his very soul that was Starsky sized. Lizzie couldn't fill that. No one could so, Hutch and Lizzie both finally came to the realization that they couldn't be for each other what the other needed or wanted. Staying in a marriage that was slowly deteriorating wasn't fair to either one of them.

"You will always have a very special place in my heart Kenneth Hutchinson," were the last words that Lizzie had spoken to him the day he had moved out. Hutch wasn't as devastated as he thought he would be at the failure of his second marriage. It was then he knew that he wouldn't really feel whole and complete until he kept his promise to Rachel Starsky about finding her son.

Deciding to leave any further unpacking for later, Hutch grabbed his keys from the coffee table and left the apartment driving through the early evening traffic to The Pits. The bar was crowded with the usual assortment of customers: power drinkers, a few hookers looking for a quick trick, college students out slumming, local businessmen stopping in for a drink on their way home from the office, and a few straying spouses hooking up with a one night stand. Huggy Bear was busy working behind the bar while his waitresses worked the floor.

Hutch slid into an empty stool at the end of the bar and signaled Huggy for a drink. Within minutes the tall thin black man had sat a frosted mug of draft beer in front of the big blond. Hutch picked up the glass and downed half of the drink in one long swallow.

"You planning on eating? Or just drowning your sorrows?" Huggy asked as he ran a cloth over the gleaming surface of the bar.

"Not very hungry," Hutch mumbled as he took another sip of his beer.

"You finally get unpacked?" Huggy asked trying to engage his old friend in conversation.

"Not yet," Hutch told him blandly. "Not much reason too…I'm not there that much."

He smiled thinly "Just like I was never at home very much either."

"You need to stop beating yourself up, Blondie." Huggy said "Things happen for a reason. If you and Lizzie are meant to be together then you'll get back together. If you aren't, then you'll both move on."

"Maybe we both moved on a long time ago without even knowing it," Hutch suggested. He finished his drink and motioned for another. "Keep 'em coming." He ordered.

Huggy sighed but didn't object. He knew if he didn't serve Hutch, then he would just go somewhere else to get drunk. At least here Huggy could monitor his intoxication and put him to bed upstairs if he had too much to drink as frequently happened. Although Hutch could hold his liquor, he had started drinking heavily after Starsky's disappearance using alcohol as a crutch to mask his pain. Like a lot of people that Huggy knew, alcohol had become Hutch's way of coping with his repressed emotions. Unfortunately, Hutch either became a belligerent, aggressive drunk or an emotional mess who dredged up memories of his missing partner and friend. Either way, Huggy would be there to protect Hutch from himself as best he could.

That evening, however, Hutch kept his drinking at a minimum, and instead of becoming "down on the floor" drunk, he became regrets and discouragement. His second failed marriage had hit him hard. He knew now that he had unconsciously used Lizzie in much the same way he was using the alcohol that was passing through his lips. He liked Lizzie very much but he never felt that deep down love that two people needed to feel in marriage. He again wondered if irrationally he had always blamed Lizzie for Starsky's disappearance in the first place.

"No," Hutch quickly corrected himself. "Whatever happened to Starsky…the blame rests solely on me. I was the one who looked my best friend straight in the eye and lied to him the night that he disappeared," Hutch thought sadly. Hutch downed the last of his mug of beer and whispered softly, "How could I have been so unfeeling…so callous to my own partner? Some friend I am…".

Remorsefully, Hutch suddenly realized the bitter truth and vowed to spend the rest of his life alone. It was easier than giving part of himself to someone else and having them end up disappointed in the end.

Settling up his bill, Hutch left around midnight without saying goodbye to anyone. He drove home in the darkness, lost in his own thoughts. Distracted by his memories…

"How many times have we cruised down this very street together either in the tomato or in my clucker of a car?"

"Remember the time…"

"Hey Hutch, when ya gonna mothball this vintage car of yours…"

"Who was the best driver in the academy Blondie…"

Suddenly there was a smear of red light…

brakes squealing…

the blaring of a car horn…

"What the…

What's wrong with you…

DRUNK…

You'd better watch what you're doing…

MANIAC!"

The blaring of the other driver's horn and his angry words startled Hutch out of his memories of the past and into full alertness. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had accidentally run a red light, barely avoiding an accident.

Shaken by the close call, he pulled over to the curb and slammed the car into park. He took several slow deep breathes as he struggled to bring his pounding heart rate down to a more acceptable level.

"Who was the best driver...certainly not me my friend…" Hutch thought as he placed his aching head in his hands.

When he finally regained his composure, he started the engine and carefully pulled back out into the street. He drove the rest of the way to his apartment taking care to observe his surroundings attentively. Parking in front of his apartment, he climbed out of the car and slowly trudged up to the front door. Sweeping his hand across the top of the doorframe, he closed his fingers around the key he kept there.

"Old habits die hard don't they Starsk…"

Unlocking the door, he went inside. He closed the door securely behind him and locked it, walling himself away from the outside world and again allowing himself to be lost in the security of his memories.