Flash Drive, Part 3

 

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Huggy greeted them with hands on hips.  “And to where have you two taken your disappearing act all day?”  He scolded the two like a fish wife.  “If you’d a gone again, who am I to take it to?  Not your brothers in blue. ‘Excuse me, I want to file another missing persons report on two of your detectives, missing for 30 years the first time.  They just “poof” appeared at my place yesterday and vamoosed again.’  This poor mortal’s heart can’t take that.” 

 

“We’ve sort of been catching up on what happened in the world in the last 30 years, Hug.”

 

“Space shuttles exploding, kids shooting up schools, OJ Simpson on trial for murder, road rage, mothers killing their kids, identity theft, and hardest to believe – the mainland being attacked and the World Trade Center Towers destroyed?!”  Hutch got more and more distressed as he listed some of the news that he’d read today, that they had missed.

 

“You’re lucky you missed 9/11, seeing planes run in those places, people jumping out of 100 story buildings, the collapse of the towers, a big gash in the Pentagon and the PA farmland. But listen:  All’s not doom & gloom.  There’re digital cameras, the first black US President, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union, video games and HD TVs that look more real than life, Starbucks on every corner – okay that might not be completely a good thing …”

 

“The librarian showed us a little on how to research, but…”

 

“But nothin’, Hutchinson.  This world’s a completely different one than you last saw.”

 

The detective sighed.  “We realize that, Huggy.  But where else would be the best place to learn all these things than a library?”

 

“Why can’t you ask me?!”  Huggy slapped his palms on his chest.  “Didn’t you always come to me for righteous info?”

 

“Okay,” Starsky acquiesced.  “We can get some information from you, but a library has a lot more resources.”

 

“What can a library do that a laptop with WiFi cannot?  And those, Huggy’s got.  Along with these.  As promised.”  And he handed them each a new driver’s license made out to Ken Hutcheson and D. Michael Starsky.

 

“Wifi?” Asked Starsky, looking at Hutch.  The latter shrugged his shoulders in confusion Why’re you asking me?

 

“All these strange terms makes me feel like a muggle.”

 

“A what?”  Hutch looked at Starsky as if he had grown another head.

 

“You know – a non magical person?”

 

“Of course, I know.  Huggerino the Magnificent wrote the lesson on magic.  But where’d you pick up language like that.”

 

“I was skimming this book about a boy wizard named Harry.  Looked good, might get them for myself.  There’s a giant and a magic rock…”

 

“Are you sure you weren’t reading ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’?”  Hutch laughed scornfully.

 

Starsky just glared at his partner as he mouthed.  ‘Those were beans and you know it.’

 

“Uh, back to the matter as it may be.  Starsky you go ‘round usin’ words like muggle and you’ll stick out like Miley Cyrus’ tongue.  Let me get my laptop, and you can fiddle around to your heart’s content.” 

 

Their friend came back into the living room with a silver case about the size of a pad of lined notebook paper, and not weighing much more.

 

Hutch was amazed at the size and weight as he held it up and peered at it eyelevel.  “This is a computer?  Are you sure this won’t cost anything?  Just searching around it?”  He looked over at Starsky, “What did that librarian call it, Starsk?”

 

“Some sport.  Riding? No, surfing.  It doesn’t cost any money to ‘surf’ on your computer?”

 

“Nah.  You just pay a monthly fee to get connected, et voila!  You are riding the waves of the world wide web highway!”

 

“You might as well be speaking in another language, here, Hug.”

 

“Let me show you, how it’s done.”

 

“What about time limits?  Does the company you hook into have time limits on your connection to this internet?”  Hutch asked curiously.

 

“It’s open for business 24-7.  Unlike yours truly.”

 

“24-7?  You mean around the clock and open all the time?  No wonder you need a coffee shop on every corner.”  Starsky shook his head.

 

“For which I am thankful.  Any coffee you make requires a skull & crossbones.” Joked Hutch.

 

“Since I already got coverage down at the Club, how about I show you ‘round the town?  We could get some vittles, grab a few brews, maybe find a few ladies that might be interested in the three amigos.”

 

Hutch opened Huggy’s laptop and was intrigued.  “It turns on by itself?”  He was awed by this, his expression similar to that of a child unwrapping an unexpected toy on Christmas morning.

 

“The power turns on, but you have to double click the mouse over the blue ‘e’ to get onto the internet.”  Huggy explained.

 

Hutch looked at the side, held the laptop over his head and looked underneath, and then turned it around to look at the back.  “Where’s the mouse?”

 

“It’s built in.  See this piece in the middle of the keyboard?”  Huggy pointed to a smooth square nestled beneath the keys in the center of the laptop.  “That’s your mouse.  It’s controlled by your finger.”

 

“Welcome, You’ve Got Mail.”

 

Hutch jumped up and nearly dropped the laptop.  “It talks?!”

 

“And sings and plays movies and television and videos.”

 

“Does it think?” Starsky asked sarcastically.

 

“Afraid of being replaced by robots, Meathead?”  Chuckled Hutch, as he ran his hands over the laptop, almost sensually.

 

“Like you ain’t.”

 

“The way I see it, we have to embrace all this technology.  We’re stuck with it for now.”  He turned to Huggy.  “Why don’t you guys go out?  I’m going to stay in and play on this.”  He lifted the laptop in reference.

 

“Okay by me.  Let me get you the power cord, and you can sit at the dining table and plug it in.”

 

Starsky was bothered that Hutch wasn’t intimidated by the computers.  “You really want to stay in and play around with that thing?”

 

Hutch snickered at the look on Starsky’s face.  “Look at you.  You look at this computer as if it were a rabid dog.  Staying just so far away from it.”

 

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Huggy and Starsky came back around midnight, after having dinner and driving around, stopping for a beer here and there.  They were surprised to see Hutch still sitting at the dining room table, hunched over the laptop, only the dining room light on.

 

“You’re still on that thing?” Starsky asked, surprised.

 

The blond raised his head, and Hutch lifted his hand to rub his neck.  “You’re back already?”

 

“Already?  Hutchie, it’s past midnight.  We’ve been gone four hours.”

 

“Did you even eat?”  Starsky asked, as he subconsciously walked behind his partner to rub his neck, which seemed to be stiff from bending over the machine for several hours.

 

“Uh, no.”  Hutch looked around for a clock to confirm his friend’s assertion that it was four hours since they left.

 

“Do I know you, or what?  Good thing I brought you a doggie bag.”  Huggy held up a white styrofoam container with a roast beef sandwich.

 

Later that night, as they lay in Huggy’s spare bed, Hutch excitedly told Starsky about all he had looked up on Huggy’s laptop.

 

“People take videos of everything and post them online!  Their pets, their kids, music.  They give lessons on how to do everything from making cordon bleu to fixing a motorcycle engine.

 

There’s sites about vintage advertising, music lyrics, television and movies, games you can play on your computer.  And there’s online diaries – those are the blogs.  Something called ‘forums’ where people get together through this internet to discuss and exchange ideas on all kinds of issues – political, raising kids, entertainment.

 

You’d love it, Starsk.  You can research archaic information and all the weird things you’re interested in.”

 

“You’re the weird one.”   Starsky rolled onto his side away from Hutch.  “Can’t believe you’re behaving like a kid.”  He snorted, “my partner, the computer nerd.  Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

 

There was a quiet for several minutes.  As Starsky began to relax toward sleep, Hutch broke the silence.

 

“There are sites you can find single women. And watch pornography.”  Hutch finished without missing a beat.

 

Slowly, Starsky rolled back over.  “Porn?  On the computer?”

 

Grinning, Hutch looked over at him.  “Yep.  In the privacy of your own home.  No more going to a smelly, stained, run down theater.  Of course, you gotta pay for to watch it.”  He acknowledged with a tilt of his blond head.

 

“Seriously?  You actually went searching for pornography?”

 

“Well, no.  I didn’t know it was there, but I was looking at a few of these sites for singles, and some ads just popped up in front of what I was reading, and well… one thing led to another.”  Hutch said sheepishly.

 

“Uh, huh.  Tell me another.  I know you, remember?” 

 

“Seriously, Starsky?  How was I supposed to know all this was out there?  And there’s so much more to discover.  I could spend days on the computer and not find half the things I want to learn.”

 

Starsky pulled his arm from under the cover, and put his hand on Hutch’s forehead.  “Are you okay?  Where’s this coming from?”

 

Ignoring Starsky’s disquiet, Hutch’s face was lit with exhilaration in the dim light from the window.  “Did you know there are over 34,000 species of spiders?  And while I was reading about their importance to the Earth, I came across a video called ‘Spiders Hooked on Drugs’.  It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.  And I read that George Mallory’s body was found in 1999, but they still can’t determine if he made it to the top of Mt. Everest.”

 

“Who?”

 

“George Mallory.  The famous British explorer who disappeared climbing Mt. Everest in 1924.”

 

The dark curls shook, Starsky needed to clear his head.

 

“There are videos from around the world of newborn animals from zoos – koalas in Cleveland, pandas in D.C., dolphins in Chicago, polar bears in Toronto.  So many things about the world that can be seen or found with just the flitter of fingers!”  He snapped his fingers, remembering more.  “Oh, and there’s dances called…something mob.  Where people get together and dance elaborate steps to popular show tunes in the middle of public places.  I also read about OJ Simpson, who got acquitted of murdering his ex-wife, but now is in jail for armed robbery and kidnapping.  It’s sad to see what he’s become and what he looks like.”

 

Starsky just stared at his partner, animated in the dark.  “O.J. Simpson an armed robber?  Videos of strangers dancing in public places? Spiders on drugs?  Hutch, have you lost your damned mind?!”

 

He saw Hutch’s face fall, and apologized.  “I’ve never seen you this worked up about something mechanical.  It’s freaking me out that maybe you changed when we went through the time warp, or whatever it was.”

 

“But there’s so much we missed, so much to do and see and discover.  I want to absorb it all.”

 

“If you don’t shut up about it, you’ll absorb my fist.”

 

“All right.  You don’t have to get violent.  I didn’t realize that missing decades makes Starsky a grump.  Thought this kind of stuff would be right up your alley.”  And Hutch rolled over to the other direction, put out that his partner couldn’t share his enthusiasm.

 

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The next morning, they woke to marvelous smells.  Their hunger pangs took them to the kitchen where they found Huggy Bear cooking up maple syrup pancakes with cinnamon butter, honeydew and cantaloupe melon with sour cream & coconut dip, and the aroma of spiced coffee lingering above it all.

 

Without turning around, their friend knew the former detectives were there.  “Since it’s Sunday – and this entr-e-pre-neur closes on God’s day, we should get you two duded up.”

 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Starsky complained, looking down at himself.

 

“Nothing.  But tell me this, Starsky?  You got anything else to wear?”

 

When neither answered, Huggy nodded knowingly.  “Uh huh.  Styles haven’t changed too much, but those sneakers of yours, Starsky, are passé.  And your flairs won’t cut it anymore.  Boot cut – that’s the way to go now.”

 

“But what about money?  I’m sure my credit cards are no longer any good.”

 

“It’ll be like old times – you’ll owe me,” Huggy deadpanned.  “So it’s settled then.”  He clapped his hands.  “The three of us will hit Targé and get you as fine as yours truly.”

 

Hutch snorted in amusement as he looked at the lanky man’s outlandish outfit of bright red pajama pants with what looked like a cartoon of an angry cardinal, and an orange trimmed blue satin robe.

 

He made a suggestion. “You know what I like, Starsk.  Why don’t you two go shopping?  I’ll stay here.  I want to work some more on your computer, if that’s okay, Hug.”

 

With hands on hips, Starsky was adamant.  “No, Hutch!  You were on that damn thing enough, yesterday!  Six hours between the library and here.  You barely ate, your neck was sore from bending over, and I’ll bet your eyes hurt from staring at that thing all the time.

 

Now, sit down and eat this delicious breakfast Huggy’s got prepared for us.  Then we – all of us – are going shopping.”

 

Hutch held up his hands, as if he was a mime in a box, as Huggy walked gingerly back in the kitchen.  “Okay, okay….”

 

And he sat down, muttering all sorts of names aimed at his best friend.

 

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“$235!  Just for a couple of pair of pants, a few Henley t-shirts, and other essentials?  That’s a crime!  Charging people for what we used to be able to get for less than a hundred dollars.  And they’re not even all that well made!  Look at the stitching?!  What about the sizes?  I haven’t worn a size 36 pant in my entire life; they must be making them smaller.  And did you see the prices of food in that place?  Since when did retail stores start selling food, and how are they going to convince me to buy from them at those prices?”

 

Huggy leaned across the front car seat toward his passenger.  “You wanted to bring him.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m beginning to see that maybe he should’ve stayed back at your place.  At least playing on the computer keeps him quiet.”

 

Addressing the complaining blond in the back seat, Huggy yelled, “Hutch, you should know that prices are going to rise in the 30 years you’ve been missing.”

 

“I know, I know.  Brands change, things become obsolete, and taxes get higher…” he turned his head to the right, distracted by something out the side window.  “Did that sign say $4.07!  For gas?!  Is there some kind of gas or oil crises? Because if not, that’s criminal!”

 

To tune Hutch out, Huggy turned on the radio to 80’s hip hop and street music.  At the sight of his friends grimacing slightly, Huggy started to apologize, but then thought better of it.  “This is nothing guys – grandma’s muzak.  You do not want to put an ear to the ground and hear the Gangsta Rap.”

 

As they turned off Santa Monica toward Christopher Street to Huggy’s place, the street became more colorful and cleaner, the people dressed more fantastically. 

 

Momentarily distracted from Hutch’s complaining, Starsky stared at the flags draped from poles that were brightly colored with rainbow motifs.  The air of newness – from the renovated old buildings to the clean streets with well dress and a well behaved populace – shown in the delight on most faces.  Especially some of the women.  In fact, Starsky highly suspected that most of them were men.

 

“Hey, Hutch?  Remember Sugar – the female impersonator?”

 

“They call them drag queens now, though some are transgender.”

 

“Transgender?”

 

“Believes they are in the wrong body.”

 

“Like possessed?”  Starsky was confused.

 

The front conversation caught Hutch’s attention and stopped his rant about the cost of everything.  “No, someone who actually believes they are a female, but were born male.  And vice versa.  The term was really just starting to be used in the late ‘70s.  Most of the time they dress as the other sex – the one they believe they are.  Most states still do not allow for gay marriage, though California does now.  And you can’t be fired for being gay anymore.  In fact there are gays on the police force now.”

 

Starsky turned to look behind him with a sour look.  “Give the man a cookie.  You’re very up on the gay lifestyle.”  He added pointedly.

 

Ignoring his partner, Hutch continued.  “West Hollywood wasn’t so bad in the ‘70s.  Lots of artists and musicians lived here.  I knew a few; went to some of the clubs as well.”

 

“I beg to differ.  There was still a lot of drug and crime then.  And it wasn’t so bright and clean.”  Starsky countered.  He turned away back to Huggy.  “Anyway, whatever happened to Sugar.  Is he still around, or…”

 

“No, she passed on in the late 80s – the big C.”

 

“Is the ‘Green Parrot’ still around?”

 

“Not per se.  It’s been made into loft apartments with a coffee and bake shop, street level.”

 

“Is anything still the same?”

 

“Hutch’s place in Venice is still standing.  Oh, and the canal house is still there…somewhere.”

 

That confused them, so they asked Huggy for clarification, and he explained about the re-emergence of the city and the canals, and how million dollar homes now stood along the various canals with lots of lush greenery.

 

“What little we saw, kind of surprised us.  Made me sad to miss out.  Venice Place must be worth a fortune by now.”  Hutch said gloomily.  “Can we go back now?”

 

Starsky responded with a biting critique.  “He just wants to go on your computer some more.”

 

“So?  I happen to find it interesting.”  Hutch pouted from the back seat.

 

Starsky continued to stare out the window – intrigued by all the costumes, the festive decorations, and the friendliness of the people greeting each other.  Then a more disturbing thought came.

 

“Did Society regress and force all the homosexual people to live in one area?”

 

“Like the Beatles, they decided to ‘come together’ and create their own neighborhood.

 

Now, it’s not as big a deal.  Heck, even some states – including California – gays can get legally hitched.”

 

“No shit?”

 

“Some of your most influential people are gay, including yours truly.”  Huggy stated what was always obvious, but never said aloud.

 

“We always knew you played both sides, Hug.  That didn’t make you less to us.”  The deep brown and light blue eyes met in the rear view mirror.

 

“I know, and I appreciate that you respected yours truly, even though the whole idea seemed to bother Mr. Straight and Narrow here.”  And Huggy turned his right thumb in the direction of  his front passenger.  “I am one of those glorious beings who loves the sum and the total.

 

Starsky, baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.  Let me bring you down here for Pride next weekend.  It will blow your mind.”

 

“Careful, he doesn’t have much left to blow.”  Hutch piped in, jokingly.

 

“And you’re going to have even less, the more you play with that portable contraption.”

 

Huggy was confused by Starsky’s aversion of his laptop, or any technology that made life easier, and said so.  “You used to dig all sorts of weird minutiae, my friend.”

 

Starsky grumbled and glowered about so many changes, and his fear that he wouldn’t be able to cope or understand “this new world” he was stuck in.  Ignoring his car mates, he turned away again, looking out the window.

 

He liked what he saw visually about this strange ‘new’ world, but it left him off kilter.  And he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to understand the technology behind everything.

 

 

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