Starsky spent the next week wandering
around the town, trying to get his footing, pondering how to go about getting a
job and what he could do; it was probably out of the question to go back to the
force now.
“How do I fit in this world as a 38
year old man, when I should be 70?
70! It blows my mind.” Starsky mumbled as he sat next to ‘his’
tree. The one Hutch had paid for back in
1975. It was now large enough to sit
beside and gather a bit of shade. “If
Hutch can do it, I can.” He resolved.
Hutch had accepted a job just
yesterday writing articles on the internet for the Legal Aid Society, and said
he had interviews lined up on the phone for next week, to do more of the same.
His partner was immersing himself to
this time and adapting. Hutch could whip
around the computer, play with the tiny music box they called i-Pod; and play
video games on Huggy’s phone and with a box labeled W-I-I, right on Hug’s
television.
Starsky wasn’t sure about taking up
Huggy’s invitation to go to Pride the
following weekend, but he was curious and anything was better than watching
Hutch play on gadgets.
The crowd was colorful – in both
dress and behavior. He used to think
Huggy dressed off color. That was
nothing compared to what he saw at the festival. Women dressed like men and vice versa,
Hawaiian leis, leather riding chaps and dog collars?! The half dressed men grinding and jiggling
embarrassed him “Hutch is more attractive than these fake muscle guys.”
At first the blatant kissing and fondling made Starsky uncomfortable,
but by the time they had to leave so Huggy could get to work, he could smile
when two people could kiss without fear.
Starsky respected, and even admired
them to an extent, because they didn’t care who was aware of what they did, how
they looked or who thought what of them.
The sights he saw that weekend
intrigued Starsky. Everyone was
friendly, happy, and having a good time.
Yeah, some displays were over-the-top and freaked him out a bit, like
the older women that looked like they could be his mother’s age – or the age he
remembered her last - throwing out condoms to the crowd.
He told Huggy that it wasn’t as bad
as he expected, and that he enjoyed himself so much that he wanted to come back
the next day.
The sarcasm Huggy threw back wasn’t
expected, “Gee, thanks for your support.”
“You got me wrong. I mean, if everyone could enjoy life like
that, crime would be low.”
“Starsky, the gay community has
crime, just like everyone else. My
brothers and sisters from around the world are just that. Gay, straight, Muslim, Judea, Atheist, Kenyan
or New Yorker. No one group is more or
less subjected to crime. Yeah, there are
bad places where crime is high. Gays
kill gays, steal from each other and cheat on each other. Straights can get killed in Japan or New
York. And politicians get murdered in
Dallas or Ghana. We all just want to get
married like everyone else, too.”
“I thought you said gay marriage was
legal in California?”
“Not if Prop 8 comes back.” Huggy’s wizened face was set in grim lines.
“Prop 8?”
Huggy went on to explain the twists
and turns of the gay marriage fight in California.
The remainder of the drive home was
spent in silence as Starsky was lost in thought about how the world was, and
all that he remembered had changed.
After Huggy dropped Starsky off at
the apartment, he found Hutch flipping through the channels of Huggy’s 50” wall
unit television
That a television was thin enough and
light enough to be mounted on a wall and used no picture tubes, awed
Starsky. He was less afraid of learning
to use that, than he was other things – like music players, digital phones and
computers.
“Find anything interesting?” He asked his partner from behind the couch.
“Did you know there are TV channels
dedicated solely to animals, and to movies, health, nature, old tv shows, and
even different kinds of music?”
“Yeah? They got one for homosexuals?” Starsky asked,
not without a little sarcasm.
“Actually, they do. I saw a commercial, but I don’t remember the
channel. Huggy would probably know.” Hutch paused, briefly. “Why?
You want to watch it?”
“Might be interesting to see what
it’s about. Seems like there’s a lot of
changes. More than just electronics and prices. More people are accepted for who they are and
differences in nationality and religion seem to be accepted and embraced. I actually had a good time, you know. Surprised the hell outta me.”
Hutch sat open mouthed, just staring
at Starsky. “Did you undergo some kind
of brain transplant?” At Starsky’s look
of disdain, Hutch explained. “Homosexuality
used to make you uncomfortable. Discussing it, faced with it.”
Starsky was affronted. “I always treated gays with respect.”
“No one said differently, buddy. And you always did your job. But you can’t tell me that being confronted
with John Blaine’s secret life, didn’t bother you. I also remember you being troubled by people
like Peter Whitelaw and Harvey Milk. And
I remember how angry you were when you read an article that suggested Eleanor
Roosevelt might’ve had a lesbian relationship.”
“Yeah, well tarnishing a great lady’s
name like that…” And Starsky trailed
off, realizing how he sounded. “Okay, I
did feel that way then. But I don’t
now,” he insisted.
“Why?” Hutch persisted.
Starsky shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s Huggy. We always knew he swung.”
“But we never talked about it.”
“No, but he never changed. Even now, years later, he’s still the same
Huggy Bear. But today everyone pretty much behaved and
had a good time. Sure, some things were
embarrassing. But most of ‘em were just
regular people, having a good time and celebrating their openness.”
“Okay, I’ll give that you can change
perspective on that. But what about the
other?”
Starsky had a look of confusion. “Other?”
Hutch clarified. “Back before, you were crazy about technology
and were constantly spending your paycheck on the next craze.”
“Says Mr. Seaweed and
Biorhythms. Besides, it’s not the
same.” Starsky scowled.
Hutch just raised his eyebrows.
With a sigh, Starsky explained what
he meant. “We knew ahead of time about
new products coming. And everything went
from A to B to C. Not A-Z with maybe a
stop at J in between. It’s like going
from a horse drawn carriage to a Ford Mustang with no Model A first.”
“Or cave drawings to Gutenberg’s
Press. I get it. I do.
But you have to learn some time, buddy.
There’s no other way to live in these modern times without learning the
existing technology.”
Starsky narrowed his eyes in
displeasure. “Who says we’re staying
here? You better not have any big
ideas,” he snarled.
“Starsky, we don’t even know if we can get back to 1981. Besides, I don’t think it’s so bad here. You’ve
got to be open to new things.”
The despondent man walked around the
couch and sat down heavily. “I know,
Hutch. It’s just hard. Who are we now? We can’t be Dave Starsky and Ken Hutchinson
if we stay here.”
Hutch reached out to touch Starsky’s
arm. “Yes, we can. To each other. And Huggy knows who we are, in truth.”
“But no one else will. What about my
brother? Your family? They can never know. We can never see them again if we stay here.”
Hutch’s eyes were sad. “As far as everyone knows, we’ve been dead
for 32 years. Don’t you think coming
back into their lives now – as we appeared at age 38 – would hurt them and
cause confusion? Our friends and family
have probably had some measure of healing by now.”
Starsky winced at the words “we’ve
been dead”.
His partner also reminded Starsky that
if they just showed up as themselves without aging in 30 years, they’d be
subjected to government scrutiny, people who believed in alien abductions,
cults, and who knew what other kinds of groups.
“I wish I could reassure you
somehow.”
“But you can’t.” Then, with a change in character that could
be jarring if the accompanying grin weren’t so infectious, Starsky slapped his
hands on his upper legs, and stood. “You
know what? While I’m here I can at least
put my military and police expertise to good work as a volunteer. Maybe with the veterans. I’d even volunteer as a school guard if it
gives me something to do.”
“And volunteering is a great way to
make connections in finding a paying job.
Not to mention building up some job references.”
Starsky felt better – a little. “Hey, maybe when we get back, we can take all
we learned, invent stuff first and retire in style.” Seeing Hutch open his mouth, he allowed, “if we can get back.”
After Starsky went to take a shower,
Hutch sighed and shook his head. Starsky
would never give up the dream that they could get back to 1981.
ef
Over the next weeks, both men settled
in more comfortably.
Hutch found himself first as a
volunteer for the Legal Aid Society at the neighborhood social center, then, as
of August 1st as a part-time Counselor, which, along with his blog
work brought in a fair wage, though not enough to find an apartment of their
own yet.
Starsky began volunteering for the
VFW, eventually helping out at parades and funerals.
It still bothered him that he wasn’t
helping out financially. He also worried
that he and Hutch were impinging on Huggy’s love life by being there all their
time, but Huggy assured them that he could make do as needs be.
In mid-August Starsky was asked if he
could help out with security in two days at the funeral of an Army private
killed in the Middle East, working alongside The Hell’s Angels.
“Who do we need to keep out? I mean who does the gang normally keep an eye
out for?” Starsky asked.
The coordinator for family services
looked a little oddly at Starsky, as he mentioned the Westboro Baptist Church.
“Oh, yeah; them.” In reality Starsky was confused why a church group
were the bad guys and a motorcycle gang the good ones.
Over dinner, Starsky mentioned the
screwed up situation to his best friend.
“What does it say about this world that the Hell’s Angels are the ones
keeping the bad guys out. But you’re so
gung-ho on staying here.”
“If I had my way don’t you think I
wouldn’t want to go back?”
Starsky let his silence speak for
him.
“I might, but I just don’t think it’s
possible.” Hutch clarified. “For me it comes down to why dwell on
it. Let’s deal with what’s been thrown
at us one day at a time.”
“Well, I guess I’m not as accepting
as you are, Mr. Open Mind,” Starsky said
sarcastically, then tossed a crumpled pop can into a nearby small garbage can.
“Hey!” Hutch objected. “That’s a can.”
“Yeah, so?”
“That’s recyclable. It goes in the green bin beneath Huggy’s
sink.”
“It’s just a pop can.”
“Starsky, do you have any idea the
problem with conservation? If everyone
in California threw only one can in
the regular trash, there would be 35,000,000 cans in landfills. They’re already filling up with items that
can’t be reused or recycled. Do you know
how long it takes a cigarette butt to breakdown?” He didn’t wait for Starsky, but answered his
own question. “Five years, that’s how
long. An aluminum can takes 200 years.”
There was cynicism on Starsky’s face
and in his voice. “Where did you get
those facts?” Then held up a hand to
prevent Hutch from answering. “No wait,
on the computer, right? Hutch, there
haven’t been aluminum cans for 200 years; so how would anyone know that? They’re just making stuff up and putting on
the computer. And neither of us smoke,
so what do you care how long it takes a cigarette butt to decompose?”
“Don’t be so particular; that’s not
the point I was trying to make.” Hutch
brushed aside Starsky argument like a cobweb in front of his face. “The point is there are certain items that
should be recycled to lessen the problem in the landfills, and that we should all care about what goes into the Earth.”
“If we were back in 1981, we wouldn’t
have to worry about it.”
“And therein lies the problem.” Hutch pointed out, before turning back to the
tv.
Grumbling about his formerly sloppy
and lazy partner - who never before cared where he threw something out – “like
my car” – Starsky walked over to the small garbage can and took out the pop
can, discarding it in its proper receptacle, mimicking his partner.
“You have to adapt, Starsky.”
“There’s so much to learn, Starsky.”
“Computers are our friends, Starsky.”
The blond leaned over the back of the
couch. “I never said that!”
“Yeah, well apparently that’s how you
feel, the way you treat them. Maybe you
can ask the Supreme Court to let you marry a computer.”
“So you have been paying attention
when I talk about today’s news. Hutch’s voice had a smirk in tone.
His partner walked up and smacked
Hutch lightly on the back of his head.
“Ya dummy. I went to the Pride
parade and celebration in West Hollywood.
Or did you forget already?”
When Hutch tried to apologize
awkwardly, saying he had forgotten, Starsky pounced. “Understandable. After all you should be 70. The brain remembers even if the memory
doesn’t. That must be why you need to
sit in front of a box all day – losing your virility in your old age.”
To prove that he was just as quick as
his smaller partner, Hutch used his upper body to launch himself over the couch;
tackling his partner to the floor as Starsky tried to scoot away.
Hutch quickly put Starsky in a Front
Headlock wrestling move. But to both
men’s surprise, Starsky lifted his head up and planted a lingering kiss on
Hutch’s lips before dropping back to the floor.
The two men stared at each other for
several minutes, awed and confused at the feelings reflected on the other’s
face, before Hutch lowered his head to Starsky’s and repeated the kiss.
Though astonished that Hutch kissed
him back, Starsky opened his mouth wide and drew his best friend in. He aggressively pushed back, tipping Hutch so
that now they were on their sides, behind the couch.
When they separated for air, both
began chuckling, and Hutch tucked his head into Starsky’s shoulder
“Weird.”
“How’s it weird?” Starsky asked. “Because we’re men?”
“No.
That it just came up now. With
all we’ve been through together and all the times this could’ve, should’ve come up.”
“I think it was there all along,
Hutch. These feelings. But now we don’t have to worry about the
consequences – like being kicked off the Force or getting assaulted, and that’s
why it’s okay for them to come out. Like
you said – things are different now.
It’s okay to love each other.
Even Huggy finally…”
“Even Huggy finally, what? And what are you two doing on the floor
imitatin’ a bacon wrapped calamari?”
Huggy’s voice floated from above them.
Startled, the two friends scrambled
to get on their feet. Hutch was caught
between Starsky and the couch, but also had a hold on the front of Starsky’s
shirt.
“Hutch, let go!” Starsky said behind gritted teeth.
Blushing, Hutch released his fistful
of cotton. He didn’t realize that he had
grabbed onto Starsky’s shirt.
The two hurriedly stood up and ran
hands through hair and over clothes, to make themselves somewhat presentable.
Huggy stood before them with a
knowing look on his face. “Should I have
the spare room professionally cleaned of your DNA?”
Both men blushed.
“Uh listen, Hug. This just happened. Nothin’ else.
We didn’t get far enough.”
Starsky rambled on, continuing,“Not for want of trying. At least for me. I didn’t know if Hutch would want it. Sex, I mean.”
“Starsky, it makes no never mind to
me if you want to experience lovin’ a man in all his glory – and by the looks
of it, Hutch is glorious.” He nodded
toward Hutch who had a very visible bulge in his pants. “Don’t let me stand in your way. But beware that goin’ down that path isn’t
easy – even today.”
“Maybe we should talk to you first. About what it’s like. How do you know who’s on top? Doesn’t it feel submissive and degrading to
give a bj? Does it make you less a
man? What do tell people? Do you even say anything?” Starsky kept peppering Huggy with questions,
all the while his partner’s blush was getting deeper and deeper in the pink
spectrum.
“Look, Curly, just go with the flow and let it
happen naturally. I could tell you all
about making love to a man, but you’ve got to experience it yourself. As a suggestion, might you try ‘The Joy of
Gay Sex’ if you really think you might need some help in the bedroom.”
“What about all the porn that Hutch
keeps seeing on the computer?”
With that, Hutch tried a stuttering
explanation, but neither men were paying attention to him.
“You might want to stay away from
those for now. You might just shock
your heart into age 72. Might be a bit much to see it all up front in
vibrant color, with 96 dpi.”
“DPI?
Should I ask?” Hutch queried,
finally able to get his voice, if not lose his color.
“Dots per inch.”
Hutch didn’t even want to know how
the term was coined, especially in this instance.
“Huggy, the last few months, I’ve
seen men that were so outrageously dressed that it makes Sugar’s Marilyn Monroe
more Laura Ingalls Wilder. I’ve seen men
in nothing but leather chaps and leather undershorts; in chockfull of color
that makes you look tame; in tuxedos with tennis shoes, hell even in dog
collars! I’ve heard about bondage, BDSM,
cock rings, nipple piercings, Prince Alberts, master/slave games, auto
fellatio, auto erotic asphyxiation and all sorts of ‘autos’, golden showers,
and other weird practices. I don’t think
you can shock me anymore.”
“Apparently, your partner still can
be.”
Starsky turned to look at Hutch,
whose face kept getting redder and redder with all the descriptive words the
other two men were using. “Can I talk to
you in private?” Hutch asked,
intentionally lowering his voice.
“Anything you need to say can be said
in front of Huggy.”
Hutch’s eyes glared a burning hole in
Starsky’s psyche. “I’m not used to
discussing my personal life in front of others.”
“I’m just gonna head to my room and
change into something more comfortable.
I’ll let you head off to yours to,” and Huggy waved his hand, “do
yours.”
As Hutch and Starsky walked to their
bedroom, Huggy overhead the former ask, “What does Princess Grace’s son have to
do with it? Is he gay?”
Huggy, overhearing, shook his
head. “You really are countrified,
Blondie.”
ef
Behind the closed door of their
bedroom in Huggy’s apartment, Hutch faced his partner. “Okay, where is the David Starsky I’ve known
for the past 10 plus years?”
“Don’t you mean 40 plus?” Starsky’s eyes twinkled with mirth and
excitement.
“You’re exasperating, you know that,
Starsk?”
“That’s why you love me. I keep you guessing.” He grinned widely.
Hutch ran a rand through his
hair. “I think I’ve loved you always;
but there’s been so much change in our lives in the past three months. Should we even embark on this change? Is this the answer?”
Starsky came up to his best friend
and smooth his hands down Hutch’s arms.
“You’re my balance, Hutch. I feel
more comfortable, knowing we could have a future together – an open future –
here in 2013. If we have to stay, let’s
go whole hog.”
With those words, Hutch’s eyes
softened and he smiled gently at his would-be lover. “What you do to me,” and he shook his head.
“Is it okay, Hutch? It’s gotta be something we both want and
Huggy’s got a point. Even now it won’t
be easy for us. And if we get back to
1981? Well, it’ll be that much harder.”
“I want to love you, Starsk, but…”
Trying to combat the end of that
sentence, Starsky broke in, “that’s all we need to at least give it a
shot. I love the way you feel next to
me. I love your beautiful face and
sparkling eyes when you look at me. I’ve
always liked touching you, and now I want to touch you in ways that’ll make you
feel like you’re at the top of the Empire State building.”
Hutch dropped his head in
embarrassment and shyness. “You always
know how to get to me.” He raised his
face to look into Starsky’s. “But what I
was going to ask if we can wait until we get our own place? I don’t want to take advantage of Huggy’s
generosity.”
With fingers running down Hutch’s
face, Starsky agreed. “It’s kinda like
having sex in your parents’ house, huh?”
Chuckling, Hutch nodded.
“Okay, we wait until we get our own
place.” Then Starsky pulled down the bed
covers. “There’s nothing wrong with a
little necking in the meantime.”
They leaned in close and kissed
lightly.
“Your lips taste like honey. I could probably get off just lying here
kissing you and nothin’ else,” Starsky
remarked as they drew back.
“Yours taste like bacon.”
Starsky grinned wickedly. “Maybe I should see if they make a cock ring
from bacon. You know what they say? Everything tastes better with bacon.”
ef
6 Months Later, February, 2014
Starsky and Hutch had settled down in
the last few months –literally. By early
fall, they’d moved into their own bungalow in Glendale.
Starsky still harbored a desire to
return to 1981. For now he couldn’t see
a way to get back to their own time – as he called it – for now, especially
since he didn’t know how they’d arrived in 2013 in the first place.
He continued to volunteer with LGBT
and veterans groups, which led to a studio vice president recommending him for
a job as a research assistant to several television shows; while Hutch
continued his studies in social work, he also began campaigning for
environmental issues.
Having a job helped Starsky calm
down, but once he did, his burgeoning amorous desires kept Hutch on his
toes. They never broke their promise not
to make love at Huggy’s, but eventually gave in to their cravings once a week
at a local Days Inn.
Starsky also began taking a digital
media course, hoping to someday save enough for an expensive digital camera,
like the Nikon D7100.
The other big expense he’d been
saving for, along with Hutch….
“Okay, that’s the last of the stuff!” Hutch slipped an open box in the backseat of his
latest car – a sand colored 2005 Toyota Prius.
He didn’t hear anything, so he turned his head and looked behind him –
where his lover should be carrying their pets.
“Starsky!” The blond yelled to the open front door of
the framed bungalow. “We need to get
moving!”
The two men had plans for a cruise up
the coast of California, Oregon and Washington.
It was the first opportunity they had to take some vacation time since
settling in their rented home.
“Starsky, we’re gonna miss the
boat! It takes off at 5:00!” Hutch continued to yell. “Without us unless he makes ever makes it out
here!” he grumbled after lowering his voice.
Finally his partner made an
appearance, locking the door behind him.
“Hutch, do you have to yell?
You’re hurting the kittens’ ears.
Not to mention mine.” Starsky was
carrying their pet kittens in a gray animal crate.
“Did Daddy Hutch’s loud voice bother
you? He doesn’t realize how his voice
sounds to your tiny ears,” Starsky sing-songed in a softer register.
“Do you have to speak to them like
babies?” There was disbelief on the
blond’s face.
“They are babies, aren’t you? Yes, you are.
You’re just a few months away from your Mommy.”
“I can’t believe I let you get away
with giving them such cutesy names. But
the constant baby talk is just too much.
They’re cats.”
“What’s wrong with the names we gave them?”
“It was your idea. Do you honestly
think names like ‘Pickles’ and ‘Onions’ sounds like something I’d come up
with?”
“You’re right. You’d have given them
some esoteric names. And just so you
know, I saw you letting them eat on the couch last week.”
Hutch winced in embarrassment. “Okay, I guess we both spoil them. But that doesn’t change the fact that we need
to drop them off with Jessie first, and it’s already….” He grabbed his lover’s wrist that wasn’t carrying
the cat crate, and turned it to look at the fancy new Movado watch. “2:30,” he finished.
“Okay, but this is the first time
we’ve left them with a sitter. I want to
make sure they’re comfortable.”
“Which is why we need to get a move
on.” Hutch moved to the driver’s side,
settling in behind the wheel.
They drove a few blocks to their
friend’s home, where their friend was waiting outside for them. She immediately
took the kittens out of their crate to cuddle them. Hutch walked the box holding their belongings
and set it down in front of her.
As they got back in their car, after
spending a few minutes so each could say good-bye to their pets, Hutch grabbed
Starsky’s wrist again to look at his watch, but this time gave it a kiss. He set his lover’s wrist back down, but left
his palm on Starsky’s forearm, needing the connection, no matter how light.
“I still can’t believe you paid $800
for a watch.”
“Hey, this is a great watch! Titanium, so even you can’t break it. And I wanted to get something nice for myself
with my first big paycheck. Besides,
look who’s talking. If Bill Gates and
Rev. Sally Bingham* had a baby, you’d be it.”
“I take that as a compliment.” Hutch leaned in for a light kiss and they
both had big grins on their faces, as Pickles and Onions watched their daddies
drive off.
ef
The End
*Environmentalist and Episcopal
priest, who is the founder of Interfaith Power & Light Campaign – an
organization which focuses on environmental and spiritual issues being
interconnected.
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