The Weight

By Lin P.

 

Dedicated to Linda H.

 

 

 

Tipping back a beer, Hutch's eyes traveled across the bar to the crowded dance floor. Strobe lights pulsated wildly, keeping rhythm with the bodies moving under them. Through flashes of silver and black Hutch finally spotted his partner.

 

Starsky was dancing to his own drummer, spinning the petite brunette woman in front of him in a jive-like whirl. Arms stretched to their limits, she had no time to regain the balance she was starting to lose when he pulled her back into his arms.

 

She met his grinning expression with a look of exasperation when he suddenly dipped her backwards.

 

Hutch rolled his eyes.

 

Starsky pulled her up quickly, pressing her into his chest, and looked triumphantly down into her flushed face.

 

Dancers crossed in front of Hutch's view and he lost sight of them. He took another sip of his beer, his eyes following a tall, blond woman who had just walked by.

 

When she too was lost in the crowd, his attention went back to the dance floor. The petite brunette was striding off, giving her shirt a quick tug downwards, a look of irritation on her face. Starsky was standing by himself amid the moving throng and loud music. Swaying slightly, hands open as if in question towards his retreating dance partner.

 

"Uh oh." Hutch muttered to himself as he slid off his stool. He pushed his way through the dancers to his partner.

 

"Hutch!" Starsky exclaimed happily and grabbed an arm.  "Come on, let's dance."

 

Hutch quickly steered Starsky back to the bar and onto a stool. Starsky immediately picked up the nearest beer bottle and, raising his head, drank the last half of the contents without a break. Slamming the bottle back down on the bar, he turned to Hutch.

 

"Hutchie..." He beamed drunkenly at the blond man who had sat back down next to him.. "Hey, Blintz...."

 

Hutch smiled weakly back.

 

Turning around to the man sitting on the other side of him, Starsky slapped the stranger on the shoulder.

 

"Hey, got another cigarette, pal?" Starsky patted his black t-shirt, as if it had pockets. "Still haven't made it to the machine."

 

With a small grimace the man gave him a cigarette. Starsky lit it awkwardly. "Thanks! I owe ya."

 

"Yeah, right." The man turned back to his conversation with a friend.

 

Hutch watched Starsky take a drag from the cigarette then quickly cough and sputter. Recovering himself he spoke up just as Hutch was going to say something.

 

"This is the life, huh?" Starsky picked up Hutch's beer and waved it once around the room. "Cigarettes, baaaad whiskey, and wild, wild women."

 

Hutch took the bottle from his hand and put it back on the bar.

 

"You don't smoke. You're drinking beer, and the women in here look pretty tame to me, Starsky. Why don't you settle down a bit, huh? "

 

A look of feigned surprise from his friend.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because you've had more than enough. And I swear you're going to hurt someone out there," he motioned to the dance floor,  "with one of your...moves."

 

"Hey!" Starsky flagged down the passing barman. "Another one here!" He then turned back to Hutch.

 

"You're just jealous, Blondie. 'Fraid I'll show you up."

 

Hutch chuckled.  "Okay." 

 

The bartender brought another beer and Hutch watched as Starsky raised it to his mouth and tip his head back. It had a sheen of moisture on it as did his partner's face. As Starsky drank Hutch saw the perspiration under his arms and down the middle of the tight t-shirt. He watched the damp Adam's apple bob with each swallow. Starsky put the bottle down. He looked back up to Hutch and was suddenly held by the piercing blue eyes.  The music and sounds around them waned then diminished in a sudden hush. The crowd slowed, stopped, then seemingly dissolved...till the only two living, breathing people in the room gazed at each other in ghostly silence... an unworldly stillness....

 

Still their gaze held...searching....

 

Starsky looked away and the room exploded to loud, vibrating life again.

 

Hutch quickly turned his attention to the crowd, disappointed and relieved.

 

Starsky slid off the stool, taking a moment to make sure he was actually standing straight enough to walk.  "Goin' to the john. Be right back." He muttered.

 

"Sure."  Hutch picked up his beer.

 

After a few moments Hutch saw Starsky standing by the tall blond, attempting to chat with her. She looked bored and put off as he hovered over her, his drunken leer looming close to her face. She turned and walked away, getting lost in the crowd. Hutch watched as Starsky searched the room. His eyes roamed, fell on his blond partner then quickly darted away. He made his way over to a lonely looking woman standing near the wall. At first she smiled and replied cheerfully to his questions but when he stumbled into her, spilling her drink, she too quickly disappeared.

 

Starsky made his way back to Hutch. He dejectedly took his place on the stool.

 

"Strike out?" Hutch asked with a wry smile on his face.

 

Retrieving his beer, Starsky sneered.  "Happy?"

 

Hutch was taken back.  "What're you talking about? I was only joking, Starsk."

 

Starsky took a long swallow of his beer, then set it down on the bar and studied the bottle for a moment.

 

"Who's gonna to fix it?" He asked quietly, his mood visibly darkening.

 

"What?"  Hutch watched his friend's thumbnail slowly scrape  away at the wet label.

 

No answer came. Hutch found himself reluctant to ask again. Finally Starsky spoke, never taking his eyes from the bottle.

 

"Who's gonna fix..." He stopped. "...who's gonna take it away?"

 

Hutch's heart stirred at the tone in Starsky's voice.

 

"Starsk?"

 

Midnight-blue eyes looked at him and through their liquored haze, Hutch saw sadness and despair. And something else too....

 

"I need someone.." Starsky pleaded quietly "..to take it away."

 

Hutch waited.

 

"How you break my heart." Starsky finished.

 

As Starsky turned his gaze back to the bar Hutch stared at him, numb...uncertain....

 

Then he stood up and took the darker man by the arm. Starsky turned towards him, confusion on his face.

 

"Come on." Hutch said quietly as he pulled Starsky up from his seat.

 

Without letting go of his grip on Starsky's arm, Hutch weaved through the noisy crowd till they found the door. Stepping into the night air they immediately felt the coolness caress their faces and travel soothingly into their lungs. Starsky mutely let himself be led till they were in the dark parking lot.

 

The clamor of the bar was replaced with the softer sounds of the evening. The flashing strobe lights inside were replaced by only a steady beam shining down onto a billboard. Two figures, silhouetted by this single light, stood facing one another. One head leaned forward, slowly and tentatively and the other leaned in to meet it... extinguishing the light between them.

 

 

The End

 

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