Chapter Fourteen

 

“Mr. Hutchinson?”

 

Hutch looked up at the nurse walking toward him.  Anxious for news, he sprang to his feet and met her halfway.  “Right here.  How is he?”

 

“Dr. Carson’s with your friend now, and he said you can come in.  Mr. Starsky’s awake.”  She was astonished at the transformation she saw in Hutch’s face.  The worry lines seemed to smooth out some, and he actually smiled for the first time since crashing through the emergency doors earlier that evening.

 

Hutch hurried down the hall, following the nurse into a small room near the emergency entrance.  Starsky was lying on the examining table, hooked up to two IVs¾one pumping a unit of blood, the other, a clear liquid that Hutch presumed contained fluids and medications.  Although his eyes were open, Starsky seemed groggy and hard pressed to focus on what the doctor was telling him.

 

“—the rest of tonight and tomorrow—”   The doctor stopped mid-sentence, when Hutch entered the room. 

 

Starsky’s face brightened noticeably, “There you are.”  His speech was a little slurred, but his voice was stronger than Hutch had expected.  “I just told the doc I’m fine, and I wanna go home now.  I explained you’d be here any minute to pick me up,” Starsky rambled on, hoping to enlist Hutch in his scheme to escape the hospital as soon as possible.  “Tell him I’m fine and I don’t need to stay here, okay?”

 

Hutch smiled at him sympathetically then looked over at the doctor, giving him an “I’ll see what I can do with him” look.  Hutch laid his hand on Starsky’s shoulder, hoping to reason with him.  “I’m glad you’re doing so well, pal, but I think the doctor’s right; you need to stay here.  We haven’t even heard what he has to say yet.  Besides, I mean—that’s a pretty serious wound you’ve got there.”  Hutch turned his attention back to the physician.  “Right, Doc?”

 

“As I was saying when you came in, the letter opener was very sharp and the blade very thin, so on the surface, it looks like nothing more than a small puncture wound.  However, the depth is of some concern.  Fortunately, it missed his lung and any other vital organs.  The bleeding was significant enough to cause him to pass out, but your quick action prevented him from going into shock, Mr. Hutchinson.  As you can see, he’s getting a unit of blood right now, and I’ve ordered one more.”

 

Hutch looked down at Starsky, who grinned back at him, now droopy-eyed and just a little out of it.  “So, you’re saying he’s going to be all right?”

 

“I don’t see any reason why not.  He’s a little disoriented right now, partly due to the blood loss, and partly due to the medication we’re administering through the IV.  I’d like to keep him three days, just to be safe.”

 

“That’s great news, Doc,” Hutch patted Starsky’s shoulder again.  “Did you hear that, buddy?”

 

“What’s great news?  The part about I’m gonna live, or the part about me staying here three days? ’Cause it ain’t gonna happen.”  Then, realizing maybe a nicer approach would probably work better, he added, in his most conciliatory voice,  “Come on, Hutch, tell the doc you’re gonna take me home, and I’ll follow all his orders.  Okay?”

 

“Mr. Starsky, I can’t in good conscience release you in your present condition.  There’s the possibility that physical activity could cause further internal bleeding.  You need to stay tonight and tomorrow night, then, barring any complications, we’ll release you the next morning.”

 

“Thanks, again, Dr. Carson.”  Hutch smiled at the physician.  “I could’ve told you the big dummy’s too ornery to die.”

 

Starsky gave him a reproachful look, and said with as much indignation as he could muster, “Hey!  I heard that!  You think just ’cause I got a knife in my back, it made me go deaf?”

 

Walking to the door, the doctor chuckled.  “I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Starsky.  The orderlies will be in shortly to move you to a room.  We’ve put a sedative in that IV to help you rest, so don’t fight it.  Just get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be by tomorrow to check on your progress.”  The doctor hurried down the hall to the next examining room.

 

Hutch turned back to Starsky and gave his shoulder a light squeeze, more to reassure himself, than Starsky.  “You had me worried there for a while.”

 

Starsky smiled lazily, his lids growing heavy from the drugs.  “Yeah, well you had me worried, too.  I was afraid you weren’t gonna show up in time.”

 

“I haven’t failed you yet, have I?” 

Starsky yawned, and mumbled back.  “No, but ya cut this one pretty close.  Is Lynn okay?”

 

“Yeah, she’s fine.  A little shaken and banged up, but she was too happy the two of you made it out alive to complain about a couple of bruises.”

 

“She really put her life on the line,” Starsky said.  As an afterthought, he looked up at Hutch and asked,  “Hey, where’s Sam?  I could’a sworn his big, wet nose was snortin’ around my ear back at the newspaper office.”

 

“He was there, all right.  I’d driven Mom and Dad home, grabbed my gun, and started back in town, planning to meet up with you and Lynn.  Sam begged to come along, and I let him.  I’m not sure why I brought my gun.  I just had this gut feeling that I should.”

 

The narcotic beginning to take effect, Starsky found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.  “Where’s he now?”

 

“I called Sabrina, and she came and picked him up.  I was trying to save my folks a drive back into town, but they came anyway.”

 

Touched by their concern, Starsky gave him a crooked little smile.  “Oh, yeah?  Your dad, too?”

 

“I don’t wanna burst your bubble, partner, but I’m pretty sure Mom strong-armed him into coming.  Don’t take it personally.”

 

Two young orderlies entered the room, pushing a gurney.  “Next stop, our luxury suite overlooking the beautiful Redwood Valley Hospital parking garage.  Are you ready, Mr. Starsky?” the younger of the two men asked.

 

“Yeah, right…I never miss an opportunity to rub elbows with the rich and famous,” Starsky mumbled back, the sedative really beginning to do its job.  He yawned widely and looked up at Hutch.  “Why don’cha go home and get some shut-eye?  You look terrible.”

 

Hutch arched one brow.  “You wouldn’t be saying that if you could see the sorry state you’re in.”

 

“But I’ve got an excuse.  You, on the other hand, look like somethin’ Sam dragged out of the dumpster behind The Pits.”

 

“You really know how to hurt a guy.”  Hutch feigned a bruised ego, while stepping back to let the two orderlies transfer Starsky to the gurney. 

 

“You can go up to his room with us, if you like,” one of them said.

 

“Thanks.  I think I will go along.  He’s a terrible patient,” Hutch said, nodding toward Starsky.

 

“Me?  What about you?  I haven’t forgotten when you faked that amnesia, or the way you were makin’ time with Dr. Kaufman while I was out poundin’ the pavement tryin’ to find Callendar.”

Hutch shrugged at the orderly, implying that Starsky didn’t know what he was saying.  “I don’t know where you come up with this stuff, Starsk.”  Turning to the orderly, Hutch whispered, “Come on, let’s go.  Maybe we’ll all get lucky and the sedative will hit him soon.”

 

˜ ™

 

Starsky woke to find Hutch sitting in the visitor’s chair, sound asleep.  It was almost dawn, and he’d expected Hutch to go home hours ago.

 

“Hey.”  He reached out and gently tapped Hutch’s knee, waking him from his uncomfortable slumber.

 

“Hmmm?  What?”  Hutch woke with a start, then quickly glanced around the room.

 

“What’re you still doin’ here, Blintz?  You should be in bed, asleep.”

 

“I meant to go home, I guess I must have dozed off.”  Hutch rubbed his eyes, then stood up and stretched, before looking at his watch.  “I guess I will go.  I can still catch a few winks before the funeral.”

 

Upon first waking, Starsky had forgotten today was the funeral.  Hutch’s words brought it all back with renewed clarity.  “Listen, buddy, I’m sorry I won’t be there.”

 

Hutch sat back down.  “Don’t worry about it.  All you need to do right now, is concentrate on getting well so we can go home.  The sooner things get back to normal, the better.”

 

Starsky studied his partner’s face and realized Hutch hadn’t shed a single tear, nor expressed his grief in any apparent fashion since they’d found Karen’s body in the woods.  That worried him.  He knew Hutch pretty well and figured he was trying to keep his emotions under control for his parents’ sake, but Starsky knew it would eventually take a toll.  Reluctantly, he broached the subject.  “You gonna be okay?  I mean, it’s all right to be upset…”

 

Uncomfortable with the turn their conversation was taking, Hutch rose from the chair again, walked to the window and gazed out at the parking deck below.  “Don’t worry about me.  I’m fine...just a little tired.”

 

“Hutch, this is me you’re talkin’ to here,” Starsky persisted.

 

“Goodwin’s dead,” Hutch said, without turning around.  “That’s not going to bring my sister back, but at least we know some bleeding-heart judge isn’t going to put him back on the streets in six months.” 

 

Starsky heard the bitterness seething just beneath the surface, but still Hutch held back.  He turned from the window, but avoided Starsky’s probing eyes.  “I guess I better get going.  Sure you’re gonna be okay?”

 

Starsky chuckled softly and replied with just a touch of humor,  “Are you kiddin’?  Have you seen the nurses in this place?  I’ll be better than okay.”

 

Hutch smiled back and headed for the door.

 

“Hutch,” Starsky called after him, “don’t try to come back here today.  Honest, I’m fine, and you should be with your family.  Okay?”

 

“Okay.  If you need anything, though, have them call the house.  See you later, buddy.”

 

Starsky lay back on the pillow and tried to imagine how he’d feel in Hutch’s place.  It wasn’t a pleasant thought.  He just hoped his friend would come to grips with his grief soon.  It was painful to recall the anger and the feelings of helplessness he’d wrestled with after his dad died.  If it hadn’t been for Aunt Rosie, he may never have been able to get through it.  When Hutch needed him, he’d be there.  That was all he could do.

 

˜ ™