The day had started off well enough. The sun was shining; the oppressive heat of summer not having arrived yet, so the sunlight felt warm and comforting. They drove around in the red Torino, stopped and talked to a couple of their favorite people on their route, Starsky running into his favorite bakery to buy a bag of doughnuts. The couple of calls that they had they dealt with easily. A shop owner coming in to find his place robbed overnight and a lost child found before they even arrived. The morning passed quietly. Just the way they liked.
They had stopped to pick up lunch at a small café where they each could get their preferred meal. Hutch ordered a vegetarian sandwich on sprouted wheat bread. Starsky, a huge pastrami on rye with the works. They had just returned to their car with the food when a call came in for them to go to Huggy's and "see the man" concerning information on one of their on-going drug investigations. Hutch and Starsky looked at each other, their food and then at each other again. Sighing they put the wrapped sandwiches back in the bags and stored them in the back seat. Maybe after seeing Huggy they could finish their lunch.
Starsky pulled to a stop in front of Huggy's establishment with a flourish.
He loved his high-powered car and also loved teasing his partner about
it. Hutch always acted annoyed when Starsky showed off driving, but
they both knew he really didn't mind at all.
Huggy had left the front door open for them, even through he wasn't
open for business yet. They went on in, Starsky calling out a hello.
"Hey, Huggy? We're here. What'cha got for us?" Starsky cheerfully yelled.
Huggy came out of the kitchen area, wiping his hands on a towel. "Hey yourself, Starsky. Would you two like something to eat? Just made up some chili. Guaranteed to melt your socks." He grinned at his two friends.
Starsky, always ready for something that wasn't good for him, nodded happily. Hutch, surrendering to the inevitable, also agreed. Huggy went back into the kitchen to get their food and the two detectives made themselves comfortable at the bar. Hutch went around the counter to get some silverware and napkins. Just as he bent down to pick up a dropped spoon, the front door burst open. Two armed men rushed into the room. One was a small red haired man and the other dark.
"Hands up, both of you." The redhead, who couldn't have been more than twenty, gestured wildly with his gun. Starsky slowly raised his hands, not wanting to agitate the boy any further.
Behind the bar, half hidden from the two gunmen, Hutch slowly reached under his jacket for his gun. Just as he pulled it from his holster, Huggy came out of the kitchen, pushing the swinging door open with his hip, back to the room.
"What's all the yelling out here, you guys? I'm hurrying as fast as I can." His teasing stopped when he turned around and saw what was happening.
Huggy's loud entrance startled the second gunman who turned his gun on the black man and started to pull the trigger. Starsky, seeing what was about to happen, launched himself at the gun.
It all happened so fast, that Huggy never did know exactly what happened. As he saw the gun turning towards him, he dove for the relative safety of the bar, bowls of chili dropping with a loud crash. He heard one shot, then a moment of utter silence.
"Noo! Starsky!" Hutch's agonized shout, brought Huggy up from behind the bar just in time to see Starsky slowly sink to the floor, his hand still clutching the wrist of the dark haired man. His hand lost its grip as he crumpled into a heap on the floor. Hutch's shout had shaken both gunmen out of their shock. The redhead fired off a shot at Hutch, hitting him, but not before Hutch's own shot had dropped the dark haired man who had also been aiming at him. Turning quickly, the injured detective shot again, hitting the redhead in the chest. Both gunmen lay on the floor, not moving.
Hutch pushed Huggy out of his way in his haste to get to his fallen partner. Dropping to the floor beside Starsky, he lay a trembling hand on the still shoulder. "Starsk, buddy. Talk to me. Come on, Starsky. Don't do this to me." Oblivious to his own, heavily bleeding wound, he tried to stop Starsky's bleeding. Huggy, approaching his two friends in stunned disbelief, could tell that it was hopeless. Huggy could tell that there was no way Starsky, shot in the chest, would ever talk to his pleading partner again.
Huggy knelt on the floor beside Hutch. All he could do was lay his own arm around the blond detective. Hutch gave up trying to revive Starsky and gathered him into his arms. He sat rocking his partner's body as the warmth slowly faded from him. Huggy held them both as Hutch's sobs became quieter and his eyes closed.
When the police, summoned by a neighbour who had heard the gunshots,
arrived they found the two would be robbers dead on the floor of the barroom.
And a sight that none of them would ever forget. The three friends
united in the last minutes of life. Life that only one of them would
go on to live, alone. Huddled on the floor, one cradled in the lap
of the other, with the third's trembling arms wrapped around them both,
the last thing he could do for them. The men who had died saving
him. His brothers to the end.
********
The ringing of the alarm startled him out of a deep sleep. Not wanting to leave the oblivion that sleep had given him; he groped for the offending clock. Not being able to reach it, he had to open his eyes to find it. Peering at the clock face, he knew that he had to get up to greet this day, as much as he didn't want to.
Grief hung on his shoulders like a heavy robe. What sleep had hidden from him came rushing back in the glare of the sunlight across his bed. His two best friends, gone. He didn't know how he was going to face this day, the first day after.... Well, after. The memory was as fresh this morning as if it had all just happened a moment ago.
Rising from his bed, he staggered into the bathroom and took a hasty shower. Looking at himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see his face unchanged. He thought that the horror he had lived through the day before would have left some kind of mark on him, other than just the empty place in his heart. Turning his back on the man in the mirror, he finished preparing for the day. The first day of the rest of his life. The first day without them in it.
Arriving at his bar, he was surprised not to see the bloodstains on the floor. <Some of the staff must have came in last night and cleaned up. That was kind of them.> He'd have to find someway of thanking his people for that kindness. He didn't know if he could have survived seeing that evidence of his friends' deaths.
Putting on the coffee, he wandered back into the kitchen, trying to decide if he should even bother opening today. Maybe it would be a good idea, though. Other friends, other people whose lives they had touched would need a place to come to, to talk, to cry together. He needed that too. Getting to work, he started some soup, losing himself in the mindless movements.
The sound of his front door opening woke him from his trance. Not ready yet to face anyone, he simply shouted, "We're not open yet. Come back in a hour." Getting no response, and carrying the knife he'd been using to chop vegetables, he cautiously opened up the swinging door.
Behind the bar stood a tall, blond figure, laughing at the curly haired one sitting on a stool at the counter. Turning, the blond man's face lit up like sunshine when he smiled.
"Hey, Hug. We just helped ourselves to the coffee. Did you find out about Jacko's deal last night?"
Huggy gaped at the apparition in front of him. He couldn't believe his eyes. No, it couldn't be Hutch. Could it?
"I think Huggy must have had a real late night of it, Hutch. He looks like he's still asleep. And what are you wearing Huggy? All black, not even a lime green vest to liven up the look? You're slipping my friend." Laughed the other apparition.
The stunned man stared at the two, looking back and forth from one to the other. His mouth worked, but no sound emerged. The blond, realizing that Huggy was terribly upset, approached him cautiously.
"Hey, Huggy. What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost or something. How 'bout you put that knife down and sit down over here. Starsky, get him a cup of that coffee and we'll try to find out what's bothering him."
Taking the knife out of his suddenly boneless hand, Hutch led him to a chair and sat him down. All Huggy could do was gape in wonder at this miracle before him. Hutch knelt down beside the chair, hand resting on Huggy's arm. Starsky came and pulled a chair up on the other side, holding out the mug of coffee.
"Here, man, drink some of this before you faint or something." Huggy drank a couple sips of the hot, sweet coffee. This more than anything convinced him that the two were really here. Starsky had fixed the coffee the way he himself always drank it, extra sweet.
Peering into Hutch's concerned face, he started laughing. Hutch and Starsky exchanged looks and Starsky took the mug away from Huggy. Both detectives were startled when Huggy threw his arms around Hutch's neck, giving him a quick hug then did the same to Starsky.
"Oh man. I can't believe it. You're really here. Both of you. It must have been a dream." He was laughing so hard he was crying. "I dreamt that you both had died, shot to death right there on the floor." Pointing to where he had witnessed their 'deaths'.
Hutch and Starsky looked at each other over their laughing friend's head and shrugged. Starsky shook his head and grabbed Huggy's hand. "Hey, pal, I think you'd better lay off the Tequila shooters and that Firehouse Chili of yours. That's what probably gave you the weird dream. You can see that both Hutch and I are just fine."
Drying the tears of laughter and joy from his face, Huggy threw an arm around both of his bemused friends' shoulders. "You better believe it, Starsk. I never, ever want to dream anything like that again. I never want to feel like that again, ever. Don't you two ever get yourselves dead. I just couldn't take it."
The three, as fond of each other as brothers, hugged each other tight.
And simply went on with their day. But one of them said a little
prayer in thanksgiving that he wasn't alone. Anymore.