The Psychic: Afterthoughts

By

Katherine Atkins

He saved that kid. He won't admit it. He says it was Collandra, that if he hadn't been a psychic, the kid would have died, that we'd never have found her in time.

But I know better. I was there. It seemed like we went though some kind of role reversal, you know? I'm usually the one who finds it easy to believe in weird stuff. Hey, didn't I wear a garlic necklace after we met up with that dancer who thought he was a vampire? But I just couldn't buy this psychic stuff, and I didn't believe for a minute that Collandra was a psychic. I really thought he was probably in on the kidnapping. And I tried every way I knew to convince Hutch that he was wrong about Collandra. I didn't even want him hangin' around the guy.

Then Dobey called us back to the Haymes' place. That's when we figured out that one of us would carry the ransom to the kidnappers. I didn't want my partner to do it. When he threw me that coin and said, "Heads or tails?", I hoped it would be the "heads" I called. I cringed when it came up "tails." I could have lied to him and said it was "heads". I should have lied. He didn't even watch me toss the coin, so he wouldn't have known if I lied. Then I could have been the one makin' myself a target for those kidnappers. Except that I can't lie to Hutch.

We knew the kidnappers' M.O. These guys had killed their last victim, and the guy they used as a point of contact to get to the victim, just like they killed Julio Guittierez. And just like they did in the Haymes case, they changed the delivery instructions at the last minute. And even worse from my point of view, they killed the guy who delivered the ransom. And by the toss of the coin, the delivery man for the Haymes ransom was my partner.

Hutch and I both knew that he was in real danger. So I took some extra precautions, just to make sure I could protect my partner. Using the motorbike would make sure that I could keep up with Hutch's movements, and the "elephant gun", as Hutch called it, would let me give him long range protection. When he was in the truck, getting ready to deliver the ransom, I wanted to tell him how worried I was, but I ended up tellin' him that I'd use the ransom money to buy flowers for him.

And then he turned the tables on me, asking about the bike and whether I'd checked it out: gas, oil, chain, air pressure. He was really tellin' me that I needed to take care of myself and not worry about him. I was telllin' him the same thing when I asked if his shoes were tied. And then, before he left me he said, "You be careful." That's what I wanted to say to him, and he knew it. He just said it first.

I saw him running from telephone to telephone, running over people to get to those misbegotten phones before they rang five times. How he did it I don't know.

I saw him after he fell through that doorway, after they shot him. I was sure he was dead. I pushed my way through the crowd of ghouls that had gathered to look at him, sure that I would find his lifeless body in the broken door. When I got to him, I couldn't believe he was alive. Even wearing a bullet proof vest, he had gotten cut up by the glass and was a bloody mess. He was so exhausted he could hardly stand, and he was coughing some. And all I could do was collapse next to him and hold on to him, tryin' to get it through my head that he was really alive.

And then we found out that the kidnappers were gone. My "elephant gun" had blown up their car. They didn't get out. And, they were the only ones who knew where they left the girl.

But Hutch wouldn't quit. "We've got one more chance," he said as he swayed to his feet. He wouldn't stop to get cleaned up; he was determined to get to Collandra. Collandra was all we had. He even told Joe, "You don't seem to understand, Joe, we've got nowhere else to go." I still didn't believe in the psychic stuff, but I thought the so-called psychic might crack if he had been helpin' the kidnappers and we told him they were now toast.

It was while we sat talking to Collandra, that I started thinking I was missing somethin'. What was happenin' was familiar somehow, but I couldn't quite make the connection.

I watched my determined partner make the psychic hold Joanna's scarf. Hutch was hurting, I could tell. It got so bad, he had to stand up for a second. He had this funny little cough, and kept pressing his hand against his chest. He did that on the way to Collandra's, too, but when I asked him about it he said it was nothing. But I knew he was in pain. That bullet-proof vest saved his life, but it didn't keep him from being hurt when when the bullet hit him with enough force to catapult him through that door. I was sure of that, even though he wouldn't admit it.

But after Collandra told us he was seein', and we figured out where the kid might be, and went to the scrapyard, neither of us was worried about Collandra. Like I said then, we didn't have anything to lose. When we found her in that old panel truck, and Hutch untied her and held her in his arms, I just sat and watched. He had done it. In spite of the kidnappers' brutality and my skepticism and Collandra's unwillingness to help, he had done it. The girl was safe.

We had argued about calling for backup while we were in the car. I wanted to call Dobey, and tell what we were thinkin'. But Hutch was afraid we might be wrong, and Dobey was with the Haymes family. My partner didn't want to get the family's hopes up if we were wrong. So when we found her, I went to call Dobey and the paramedics while Hutch just sat in that old truck and held her, assuring her over and over that she was safe and she's see her family soon.

The paramedics checked her out at the scene, but they decided to take her to the hospital. Hutch stood beside me while they checked her. He was still sweating, and he was breathing hard, like he was still running around answering phones. His hair was a mess, plastered to his head like he'd just come out of the shower.

Now that it was over, he was looking pale and tired. Dark circles seemed to form under his eyes as I watched him. I could see the paramedics watching him too, but I caught the eye of one of them and shook my head. Hutch is stubborn. He wouldn't let them check him even if they asked.

Our job was really over. We'd have to turn in our reports, but Dobey told me when I called in that for once we could do that later. He knew about Hutch goin' through that door. He told us to go home.

But my partner said, "Okay", when I suggested he ride in with the girl. She was pretty shaken up, and she kept lookin' around, makin' sure he was still there when they were checkin' her out. He was the first security she'd known since the kidnapping. She needed him to hang around 'til the paramedics got her to her folks.

After the ambulance left, I got in the car and drove to the hospital. I took a detour, though, and stopped at the precinct to turn in the ransom money and log us out. Dobey would have to account for all the money before it was returned to Mr. Haymes. I called Collandra, too, just to make sure he knew. Of course, he assured me that he already knew we'd found her. I didn't argue.

By the time I got to the hospital, the girl was sittin' with her father in the waitin' room. Her mother was waitin' at home, but I'd told Joanna I'd see her at the hospital, so she and her father waited for me so they could thank us. Dobey was already gone. Hutch was leaning against the wall, using it for support. I kind of waited in the background. I had helped, but Hutch was the one who wouldn't give up. Again, I felt like I'd been through somethin' like this before, but I still couldn't remember when.

Mr. Haymes shook our hands and said "thank you". He told us if we ever needed anything, to let him know. We just nodded. We're cops after all. We can't accept rewards. Besides, we weren't doin' it for rewards, other than seein' the girl alive and back with her family. Even with all we'd been through, that was reward enough for us.

As the old guy and his daughter walked away, I turned to Hutch. "Ready to go, Partner?"

He nodded. He pushed himself away from the wall, but he stopped. He looked down at his legs, as if he were trying to make them work. He got this real surprised look on his face. He reached out to me as he started sliding down the wall. "Starsk?"

I took his hand and went to the floor with him. "Right here, Buddy."

"Tired, Starsk." He muttered. His eyes started glazin' over.

I knelt in front of him and put my free hand on his shoulder. He was even paler before, and he seemed to be havin' a hard time breathin'.

I pushed him back to rest against the wall and started yellin' for help. Hutch was starin' straight ahead. I don't think he knew I was there.

A resident in a white coat knelt next to me, putting his hand on Hutch's wrist. He seemed to know what was wrong without me sayin' anything.

"What's his name?"

"Hutchinson. Detective Sergeant Ken Hutchinson."

"Sergeant Hutchinson," the doctor said firmly. Hutch didn't seem to hear him. The doctor straightened his shoulders and said firmly, in a louder tone, "Ken!"

Hutch blinked, and looked at the doctor without recognition.

"I want to you to stand up, Ken."

My partner just stared. The doctor looked at me. "Talk to him, see if he'll respond to you."

"Hutch?" I kept my voice soft, but the doctor was shaking his head. So I raised his voice a little. "Hey, Blintz. Look at me!"

Hutch blinked slowly. I opened my mouth to raise my voice again, but the blond head turned slowly and glazed blue eyes looked at me. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. I could read "Starsk" on his lips.

"Let's get him up."

"Hutch, come on Buddy. We gotta get up."

He still didn't seem to understand what was going on, but with the doctor supporting one arm and me the other, we were able to get him up. Very slowly, we moved toward an ER examining room. I practically had to tell Hutch to put one foot in front of the other, but we got there finally, and the doc and I eased him onto the examining table. They made me leave, then. I didn't like it, but I went.

After thirty of the longest minutes I've ever spent, the doctor came out and beckoned to me. Hutch was lying on the gurney, his eyes closed. "Your partner will be fine, but he's totally exhausted. I think we need to keep him overnight," the resident began, but Hutch was shaking his head.

"Take me home, Starsk. I want to go home," he whispered, laboring for each word.

The doctor shook his head. "His chest muscles and some of his ribs are badly bruised. That's why he's having such pain when he breathes."

I nodded. A high powered rifle bullet that hit hard enough to propel him into a storefront doorway, and pushing his body beyond it's limits to meet the kidnappers unreasonable demands had both contributed to my partner's breathing problems. Those things and his sheer determination to save this kid.

"He's bruised all over and cut up pretty good, especially on the left side. The cut on his forehead is minor; it didn't require stitches. But he has a deep cut on his left arm, near the elbow. I stitched that one and cleaned all the rest of the cuts, but there's not much I can do for the bruises. In general, he'll be very stiff and sore for several days. He, also, has a slight concussion."

Hutch was trying to sit up. I ignored the doc's exasperated look and went to help him. I supported his back, deciding not to mention how badly his body was trembling against my arm. "Can he go home?"

The young doctor sighed. "There' really not much we can do for him except make him comfortable." He consulted the chart again. "I can't give him anything for pain because of the head injury, but I'm prescribing an antibiotic. Some of those cuts were pretty dirty, and I don't want to have to worry about infection. He needs absolute rest for a day or two. No excitement, and no undue exertion. And see that you get some liquids into him. And make sure he eats. Understand?"

(It didn't occur to me to wonder why he assumed I'd be takin' care of Hutch. It was natural to me. I wouldn't let anyone else do it, even if there was a line of volunteers a mile long.)

Hutch glanced at me and rolled his eyes. I glared at him and nodded at the doctor. "Yeah, Doc, I understand. I put a little extra emphasis on the "I", and Hutch rolled his eyes again.

The resident shrugged. "All right. Just get him out of here, so I can treat people who appreciate my expertise."

I smiled as hard as I could, and even Hutch grinned a little. The doctor grinned and left, with my partner's "Thanks, Doc" echoing down the corridor after him.

He didn't want to get in the wheelchair the nurse brought, but I honestly know how I'd have gotten him out to the parking lot without it. When he slid off the gurney, his knees almost buckled. I put my arm around his waist and helped him take the two steps to the chair. He wouldn't have made it on his own, and he nodded in silent thanks as I eased him to sit in the chair.

When we got to the car, he was able to get out of the wheelchair by himself, and he sighed as he sat down in the passenger seat. He didn't appreciate me arranging his body in the seat, but he didn't seem to have the strength to pull his legs into the car. I couldn't drive with his feet hangin' out the door could I? When I asked him that question, he just rolled his eyes again. It seemed like that was the only thing he had the strength to do.

I think he passed out on the way to the pharmacy. He didn't move or make a sound when I stopped the car and said, "I'll get your prescription filled, Blintz." He was still in the same position when I came out 20 minutes later.

Getting him up the stairs to his apartment was an ordeal. When I stopped the car he revived a little, and he tried really hard to help me as much as he could. We had to take it one step at a time, with a stop for him to rest on each step. Eventually we made it to the top, and I half-carried, half-dragged him to his door. I propped him against the wall while I retrieved his key from over the door and let us into his apartment.

When we finally reached his bed, he just collapsed onto it. I pulled him to a sitting position, holding onto his shoulder to keep him upright while I took off his jacket and shoulder holster with my free hand. When I let him go, he collapsed onto the bed like a sack of grain. I took his belt and his shoes off. I woke him up enough for him to take the pill the doctor prescribed and take a few sips of water. He was sound asleep before I lowered him to lie back on the pillow. He was lying on top of the bedclothes, and I didn't have the heart to move him anymore, so I just covered him with a blanket. I don't think a siren going off in his ear would have woke him up.

I scrounged around his kitchen, and actually found a few edibles. I popped myself some popcorn and fixed a grilled cheese sandwich and opened a beer, and sat down on the sofa to watch TV. I really wasn't concentratin' on what was on the screen, though. I kept rememberin' that feelin' I had, the feelin' that there was somethin' familiar about what had gone down.

I finally turned off the TV and just sat on the sofa. That feelin' was really beginnin' to bug me, and I knew I wouldn't sleep until I figured it out. So I got myself another beer and sat back down. I rested my head on the back of the sofa and closed my eyes.

I thought about the kidnapping and the murder of the Guittierez kid, and about my partner running from phone to phone for Joanna Haymes' life.

And I thought about how I felt when I saw him fly through that door. Thought about my rage and my cold determination to get the guys who had hurt or killed my partner. About how I guess I stopped thinkin' then, and just reacted. I got 'em, that's all I cared about. But the shot that finished them off guaranteed that we wouldn't have any chance at getting them to tell us where Joanna was.

And I thought about Hutch refusin' to give up. He'd barely had the strength to stand, but he said we had one more chance and he was determined that Joanna Haymes would have it. I'd never seen him like that.

And then I had it. I knew what I was rememberin'. It wasn't seein' Hutch as determined as he had been today that I remembered. I was rememberin' people tellin' me about this Hutch, the determined Hutch I had never met. First it was Captain Dobey and Cheryl Jennings, tellin' me about Hutch refusin' to give up when Cheryl's father hired Vic Bellamy to poison me. When Hutch brought me back to the hospital after I shot Bellamy, the doctor told Dobey and my partner that I only had two hours of life left. Dobey, himself, told me that he'd given up and said, "Well, I guess that's it." But Hutch wouldn't buy it. Cap quoted him to me, "Even if we've only got two minutes, we're not giving up." And then there was, Cheryl, tellin' me how Hutch had refused to let her father off the hook, how he had kept at the Professor until he told him where the antidote was.

I didn't see any of this. I only knew that Hutch had taken care of me, holdin' me when I hurt and supportin' me when my strength was gone, and refusin' to shoot Vic Bellamy because he thought he was the only person who could give us the antidote.

And I was rememberin' what happened in that Italian restaurant when I was shot. Hutch carried me into the back office, so I didn't see what went down in the restaurant. All I knew was that when Hutch was with me in that little office, I felt safe and protected. He took care of me; the doctors told me he saved my life. I didn't see the Hutch who was determined to save a restaurant full of people. With me he was only gentle and loving. Teresa, the waitress, told me that he defied the hitmen, insisting that he would go to me if I needed him, and daring them to do something about it. He refused to give up, and he saved us all that night.

I'd never seen him like he was today. My quiet, soft-spoken partner is usually nothin' like that coldly determined man who wouldn't take Collandra's refusals for an answer. He's usually nothin' like the man who ignored his own physical ailments and my disbelief to make sure that a girl he didn't even know had a chance at life.

It was almost midnight. Now that I had figured out what was buggin' me, I realized how tired I was. And with my luck, Hutch would be up with the sun., no matter how tired he was when I put him to bed. I got ready to go to sleep, and grabbed a blanket and pillow from the closet and sacked out on the sofa.

I saw the guy with the rifle. I knew it was pointed at Hutch. I yelled to him, but the rifle fired, and I saw his body jerk and the force of the bullet hitting him sending him barrelling though a glass door. I was running toward him, pushing through a crowd of people, yelling at them to get out of the way so I could get to him. Dobey and Mr. Haymes and Collandra and Huggy were all there, watchin' the show. The crowd parted. I stopped. A skeleton wearing a bullet proof vest lay in the broken door. "Hutch! Huutch!!"

"Easy, Partner. I'm right here. It's okay. It's a dream, Starsk. Just a dream."

That soft soothing voice calmed me, just like it always did, just like it did when he held me when the poison was killin' me. I opened my eyes. Hutch was sitting on the edge of the sofa, patting my shoulder and whispering calming words.

"Hutch?" I reached out, touching his face as I had when I found him in the broken doorway. "Hutch?"

"Right here, Buddy." He grinned at me. "Okay, now?"

I nodded. "Sorry. I had a bad dream."

"I could tell," he told me. "Want to talk about it?"

"No. Yes." I sighed. "It was about when they shot you today. You fell through the glass in the door, and when I got to you, all I found was a skeleton, wearing that bulletproof vest."

He rubbed my shoulder, gently. "It's okay, Starsk. We're okay, the girl's okay."

I sighed. "Yeah, no thanks to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"If Collandra hadn't been able to pinpoint Joanna's whereabouts for us, she'd have died in that truck, Hutch."

He nodded. "Yeah, but we did find her. So everything's okay."

"Yeah, but all I did was blow up the kidnappers before they could tell us what they did with her." I sat up, holdin' a pillow in front of me.

Hutch scooted back on the sofa and put his arm around my shoulders. "You did what you had to do, Gordo." He tightened his grip and I leaned against him. "It's not your fault."

"I blew it, Hutch. I saw you go down, and I lost it. All I could think of was you fallin'. I thought you were dead," I admitted. I shivered.

I looked up in surprise as he chuckled. "So did I for a minute there, Buddy. So did I." He straightened a little, clearin' his throat. "You gotta remember something, Starsk."

"What's that?" I sat up, too. He was startin' to breathe hard. I don't think him talkin' was a real good idea.

He shrugged. "Sure, they were the only ones who knew where she was. But they were getting away. You did your duty, you stopped them. What if you hadn't? There's no guarantee they'd have talked. We don't know that they would have told us where Joanna was. They never did before. The victim back East was never found. If you hadn't stopped them, they'd have been free to do this to someone else, to tear another family apart. Even if we hadn't found Joanna, you kept them from hurting anyone else." After he finished talkin' . he leaned back, exhausted.

I sat there for a few minutes, thinkin' it over. I still didn't feel real good about what I did, but I did feel a little better. Just knowin' that Hutch didn't blame me made me feel better. I sighed. "Thanks, Pal."

I looked up again. Hutch's head had fallen against the back of the sofa. He was asleep.

I stood up and took his hand. "Come on Blintz. Wake up so I can put you to bed."

He opened his eyes and looked around like he was confused. He started to take a deep breath, but it cut off short, and he leaned forward, coughin' that same little weird cough from before.

I sat beside him and helped him sit up straighter. I just sat with him, pattin' his back while he got his breath back. When he stopped coughin', I got up and got him a glass of water and stood over him while he drank it. "Come on, Pal. It's time for you to go to bed."

He didn't object. I knew that meant he was really feelin' bad. Whatever energy he'd been able to gather up was gone. He'd used it all up when he heard me and got up to soothe me out of the nightmare. Takin' care of me, just like always.

I pulled him to his feet and he stumbled to the bed and just sort of fell into it.

"Get some sleep, Blintz. Dobey says we can have tomorrow off, so don't get up too early, okay?"

"'kay."

I covered him up again and went back to the sofa. Tomorrow would come soon enough. And me and my partner would be ready for it. I said a little prayer of thanks before I went to sleep. My partner was alive. Everything was gonna be fine. I didn't even need Collandra to tell me that. Whatever it the future held, we would handle it, as long as we were together.

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