The Price of a Life

Chapter Eight

 

 

Vestman was losing hope of seeing the detective return to the surface a second time, and he forced himself to assist pulling the two Dobey children onto the deck while he continued to scan the ocean.  Edith and the captain immediately encircled their children in an embrace, and the family comforted one another.  The lieutenant quickly wrapped a blanket around each of the children and returned to the cabin.  Pushing the throttle, Vestman turned the craft toward where he had last seen Hutch go under.

 

˜  ™

 

The Dobeys moved to the rail, worriedly scanning the water’s surface for any sign of life.  Vestman left the cabin and began to remove his own shirt when a shadow became visible just beneath the waves.

 

“There!” Cal cried out.  The youth quickly scrambled over the railing again and maneuvered himself to Hutch’s side as he broke the surface.  Hutch had enough presence of mind to draw his partner’s head out of the water as he drew air in great gasps that shook his frame.  Cal quickly took Starsky under one arm and began to assist the two men toward the boat.  Vestman threw himself flat on the deck, reaching for the unconscious detective.  Cal and Hutch lifted Starsky’s arms to the lieutenant and proceeded to push the limp form up the side of the boat.  Edith and the captain added what strength they had to pull Starsky onto the deck.  Dobey repositioned him onto his back and tilted Starsky’s head back to open his airway.  Vestman assisted Hutch and Cal back onto the boat, then ran to the cabin.

 

“Can you handle this, Hutchinson?”  Vestman waited for the blond’s ragged nod of affirmation.  “You stay with your partner; I’m taking us in!”  As the boat swung back toward land, the lieutenant snatched up the radio microphone and called in his coordinates to the helicopter en route.

 

Hutch staggered over to his partner and dropped to his knees.  Placing the side of his face close to Starsky’s mouth, he couldn’t hear his partner’s breathing or feel the exhalation of breath.  Starsky’s chest wasn’t rising and falling, either, and the area around his mouth had turned a shade of blue.  Quickly, two fingers were placed on the side of his partner’s throat, desperately searching for a carotid pulse.  Starsky’s pulse was weak and unsteady, but was present.  Still, Hutch knew he only had moments before permanent brain damage occurred—if it hadn’t already—from lack of oxygen.

 

Hutch began a litany: chin lift, head tilt, pinch off the nostrils, give him a breath, turn my head, look, listen, and feel for Starsky’s exhaled breath...  Ignore the blood that covered Starsky’s chest; ignore the throbbing of his own wound and the blood streaking down his arm; ignore Rosie’s sobs.  Oh, God!  Chin lift, head tilt...  Hutch could feel his body tremble from fear, exhaustion, and adrenaline.  How many more times could they pull it off?  Was this it, or would they live to fight another day?

 

Dobey’s voice cut through his panic.  “Slow down, Hutch, you’re giving him too much air.  His stomach’s expanding.”

 

Hutch shook his head grimly and hesitated only long enough to take a calming breath.  Easy, Hutchinson, easy.  He continued rescue breathing, but not as forcefully.  Cal knelt next to them and pressed his t-shirt against Starsky’s gunshot wound. 

 

Edith’s soothing words and gentle hands had finally calmed Rosie down.  “It’ll be okay, baby.  I promise.”

 

“Promise!”  Rosie pulled away from her mother with wide eyes.  “I promised Uncle Dave that I would tell you something!” 

 

“Shh, honey, it can wait, it can wait.”

 

“But I promised!”  Already overwhelmed, Rosie’s voice rose higher.  Edith reached out and began rubbing her daughter’s arms in a gesture that comforted them both.

 

“All right, all right.  Shh...now, what is it?”

 

Hutch continued breathing for his partner.

 

“Momma, he told me to tell you all something when this was all over.  But it’s not really over yet, is it?  Uncle Dave’s not gonna be all right, is he?”

 

“Honey, we¾”

 

Rosie plunged on, the exhaustion making her frantic, but her memory was crystal clear.  “He...he told me to tell you and Cal that he loves you, and he thinks of us as family.”

 

Hutch felt a catch in his throat as he watched for Starsky’s body to exhale the forced air, and tried to tune her out.  Rosie turned from her mother to face her father hovering over Starsky’s prone form.  The little girl took her father’s large hand in her two smaller ones.

 

“Daddy, Uncle Dave told me to tell you he was so sorry and that you would know what for.”  Dobey’s face grew grayer as he looked from his daughter to the motionless detective.  “And that next to his own daddy, you’re the man he looks up to the most.”

 

The captain withdrew his hand and covered his face, sinking down onto the deck bench and pulling his daughter up next to him.  Rosie’s tiny voice broke with her tears.  “Uncle Ken—”

 

“No.”  Hutch never broke the rhythm of rescue breathing.

 

“But he said that¾”

 

“No!”  Hutch paused long enough to check Starsky’s pulse before continuing.  “You’re not saying goodbye...not yet!”

 

˜  ™

 

Vestman leaned out of the ship’s cabin.  “Air Alliance ETA two minutes.  They’re dropping their medic down with oxygen instead of trying to take your partner up in the basket—don’t want to waste the time.  Ground transport will meet us onshore in fifteen.  I need two of you to catch and steady him when he comes down the line.”

 

Come on, Starsk!  Don’t give up yet; it’s not your time...it’s not our time.  Hutch’s body threatened to collapse, but he knew he wouldn’t give up until the medic could relieve him, save Starsky—save them both.  I need you, buddy, I can’t do this alone...please, Starsk!  I¾

 

At first he thought he was seeing things¾that he’d finally snapped in exhaustion and distress.  But when the ragged breath came again of its own volition, Hutch knew his prayers had been heard.  As Starsky began to cough and gag, Hutch’s first-aid training kicked in.  Cal backed away, and as gently as he could, Hutch extended Starsky’s arm.  Then, grabbing the opposing shoulder and hip, he rolled his partner onto his side as Starsky began vomiting up seawater.  I never thought watching him puke would make me this happy, came the light-headed thought.  Starsky continued to breathe in wet, ragged gasps.  As his lungs expanded and filled, pain contorted his face.  Hutch debated leaving his partner lying on his side in case he vomited more seawater, but the obvious pain that positioning caused Starsky changed his mind.  Hutch gently drew him into a seated position, supporting him with his own body and rubbing his back against the rasping breaths.

 

“Thank God...thank you, God,” he murmured into his partner’s damp hair.  Hutch could hear the Dobeys’ grateful exclamations behind him, but he couldn’t focus on their words.

 

“’utch?” Starsky rasped, disoriented.

 

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me.”  Hutch awkwardly wiped at the tears threatening to spill over.

 

“’at’s good.”  Starsky’s coughing produced more ragged gasps. 

 

“Easy, pal, easy.”  Hutch swung his long legs behind his partner and drew him back against his chest.  His right arm reached across Starsky’s torso and applied pressure against the still seeping wound.  Cal quickly offered his shirt again for Hutch to apply as a compress.  The additional pressure caused Starsky to gasp, and his head fell back against Hutch’s shoulder.  Hutch leaned his head against his partner’s, watching the rise and fall of Starsky’s chest.  “Hang in there, partner; medic’ll be here in a minute.” 

 

With a lurch, Starsky fought his way back to consciousness and tried to look around.  “Rosie?”

 

“I’m here, Uncle Dave!”  Rosie drew away from her mother, with her father a step behind her.

 

“Easy, Starsk.  She’s fine.  We’re all fine.  Just take it easy, buddy.” 

 

Starsky settled down in the blond’s arms, though his back arched against the pain.  Blood continued to trail out from under the compress, cascading down his chest and mingling with that from Hutch’s reopened stitches. 

 

Dobey knelt down next to the prone man.  “Starsky...son, I...”  Overwhelmed, he bowed his head, unable to continue.  A bruised hand reached up to grasp the captain’s sleeve.

 

“Sorry,” came Starsky’s slurred and agonized whisper, as his hand dropped to the deck.  A different kind of pain filled his eyes.  “’M so sorry.”

 

Dobey’s head jerked up to negate the need for an apology, but the detective had passed out.  Hutch sighed raggedly and reached out to his superior and friend.  “There’ll be time for that later, Cap’n.  He knows.” 

 

Dobey nodded and wiped his eyes, standing unsteadily.  The unmistakable sound of an approaching chopper caused them all to look to the skyline, and within moments the forced breeze began to lift their hair and clothes.  Dobey steered Cal toward the bow to assist in the line descent of the medic.

 

“Rosie?” Hutch called out quietly to the little girl.  He looked down at his unconscious partner, reassured by the sight of the battered chest rising and falling.  “What did he want you to tell me?”

 

Rosie approached him almost shyly, as if afraid of waking Starsky from sleep.  In a puzzled voice she tried to explain.  “It...it didn’t make a lot of sense.  He just told me to tell you ‘me and tea.’  He said you would know what that meant.”

 

Hutch fought the lump in his throat.  A short bark of laughter escaped that was more like a sob.  “Me and thee.”

 

The blond head briefly lowered and rested against Starsky’s, in sweet reunion.  When he nodded at the waiting girl, a single tear finally made its way down his cheek.  “Thank you, Rosie.  I...yeah, I know exactly what that means.” 

 

˜  ™

 

The hospital room was dark except for the single fluorescent light above Starsky’s bed.  Hutch made up the excuse of needing a cup of coffee, and gave the captain’s arm a squeeze as he passed by him in the doorway.  The two had talked before in quiet, gentle voices in the waiting room as the surgeon removed the bullet from Starsky’s shoulder and repaired the muscle damage.  Dobey’s voice had been broken as he apologized for his harsh words, but Hutch gently cut him off, understanding the fear that had consumed him. 

 

There wasn’t much to discuss on the captain’s “case,” though follow-up would occur to ensure the arrest of any other affiliates of Andrews who hadn’t perished in the explosion.  Once Starsky was out of surgery and listed in stable condition, Hutch finally allowed his superior to usher him back to the ER to have his own wound re-stitched.   

 

Starsky had slept through the first two days following the rescue, still being given fluids and antibiotics intravenously.  Initially, he had been given three pints of blood to replace what had been lost, and spent the first day on oxygen to ease his breathing.  The doctors were pleased with his progress and were optimistic about his recovery.  Breathing treatments would soon follow to ward off the onset of pneumonia. 

 

Today, Starsky had spent a few hours of wakefulness between periods of drowsing.  Dobey had checked in on him periodically throughout the day, but this was the first time Starsky had been awake while he was there.  Hutch spied him haunting the doorway and made up an excuse to give them some privacy.

 

“How’s your shoulder?”  Starsky’s voice was raspy and fatigued.

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”  Dobey eased himself down into the chair Hutch had vacated, and adjusted his sling.  “The doctor reset the collarbone and told me to take it easy.” 

 

The silence that followed was tense, pressure building, until both men spoke at once.

 

“Captain, I’m so sorry¾”

 

“Starsky, I’m sorry for what¾”

 

Starsky smiled slightly, and Dobey chuckled, shaking his head.  “All right, since I’m your commanding officer, I get to go first.”

 

Starsky closed his eyes and nodded, finding a measure of peace in his captain’s eyes.

 

“Starsky...I...well, I’m sorry for the things I said to you.  I’ve already talked to Hutch, and he figured it was just that with all that was going on, well, that I¾”

 

The captain’s speech was interrupted by the soft snore emitted from the bed.  Dobey looked at the now-sleeping figure and shook his head—at first mildly annoyed, then with fond amusement.  “Probably the first and last apology you’re ever going to get from me, and you fall asleep.”

 

˜  ™

 

When Hutch returned from the hospital cafeteria, two cups of coffee in hand, he paused in the doorway, warmed by the sight before him.  Captain Dobey still sat in the hospital chair, pulled close to Starsky’s bed, his eyes closed.  The older man’s lips moved slightly in silent prayer, his large hand gently resting on top of Starsky’s.

 

˜  ™

 

Some September days in Southern California could be glorious, and this Saturday was no exception.  Captain Dobey flipped the hamburgers over, their juices causing the flames to dance and sizzle.  He looked around his yard contentedly, his family enjoying the balmy day as much as he was.  Edith sauntered by, a salad and bag of chips in hand.  With a saucy arch of her brow, she paused to lean toward him and kiss him soundly.  With a grin, she walked away.  “Just following directions!”

 

Dobey smirked and smoothed out his moustache after setting down his spatula.  Maybe the “Kiss the Chef” apron wasn’t such a bad gift after all. 

 

Another glance around his backyard served to tell him what he already knew¾he was fortunate to have such as family.  Each one of them had shown extraordinary bravery during the nightmare earlier that summer, and they had returned to their lives a little wiser and a little more appreciative of each other.  Andrews had demanded three million dollars ransom—a million each for the three most priceless blessings a man could have.  Dobey knew the moon and every star in the heavens combined wouldn’t have equaled the price of their lives.

 

And now, the horror had dissipated and their scars were healing, and life seemed to be getting back to normal for all of them.  All except...  The captain’s gaze swung back over to the pool.  Cal and Hutch were lobbing the Nerf ball back and forth, just as they had last Father’s Day, his son hurtling himself off the diving board with each catch.  At the shallow end, though, was a much calmer scene.  Starsky, again in his ridiculously loud swim trunks, sat on the edge of the pool with Rosie, both dangling their feet in the water.  The little girl hadn’t entered the pool since the incident on the Stingray, much to her parents’ concern.  They agreed not to push her too soon and give her time, but it forced them to hide the heaviness in their hearts from the loss of Rosie’s innocence. 

 

Starsky casually slipped into the shallow water, using only one arm to push himself off the edge.  His wound had since healed, and physical therapy was gradually increasing his strength and mobility.  Still, an angry pink scar marked the violence that had almost taken his life. 

 

Starsky moved out a few more feet and turned to face Rosie.  He snapped his fingers as if he’d just had an idea.  “We could play tidal wave.”  His good arm was extended and he spun around, sending a wave to lap at the little girl’s legs.  Rosie simply stared at her feet and shrugged her shoulders. 

 

“Or...” Starsky enthused.  “I could bend my knees, and you could jump off them backwards.”

 

Rosie stood up, her expression suggesting she was about to walk away.  Starsky watched her intently until she spoke.  “Uncle Dave?  Do you ever think about what happened?”

 

Starsky nodded.  “Well, sure.  What happened was pretty scary.”

 

Rosie finally met his eyes.  “Were you afraid?”

 

“Yes, sweetheart, I was.  We were all afraid.”

 

Rosie’s voice became so soft, he almost missed it.  “I was really scared.”

 

Starsky nodded and realized everyone was discretely listening to their conversation.  He hoped he could find the right words to encourage her.  “But you were very brave, Rosie.”

 

The little girl looked at him skeptically.  “I didn’t feel brave.”

 

Starsky smiled gently.  “You know, Hutch is a lot smarter than me, but I’d never tell him that to his face.”  He knew full well Hutch could hear every word.  “And he told me once that being brave isn’t the same as feeling brave.  Being brave is doing what you have to do, even when you feel afraid.”

 

“You think I was brave?”

 

“Yes, you were definitely very brave.  And I think that no matter what other scary things you might have to face someday, you’ll be able to handle them, because you’re already very, very brave.”

 

Rosie looked at Starsky for a few minutes, thinking hard.  Without a word, she turned and slowly walked away.

 

Starsky sighed, disappointed he was unable to get through to Rosie.  He felt Hutch’s hand grip his shoulder, and he nodded, accepting the quiet comfort and support.  He was just turning back to climb out of the pool, when the sound of running feet slapping against the wet pavement got his attention. 

 

Starsky and Hutch turned just in time to see Rosie propel herself off the end of the swimming pool in their direction, her little voice shattering the silence. 

 

“Cannonball!”

 

Harold Dobey smiled widely.  All was going to be right in his world once again.