Author’s Note: Part II of The Plague from an outsider’s viewpoint. This piece was inspired by the 9/25/20 Friday Fiction Prompt on the Starsky&Hutch Fans&FanFiction FaceBook page. The prompt sentence is underlined, below.
I’d never felt more helpless or useless, two things I didn’t like at all. My life had been dedicated to being in control — of everything and everyone — at all times. But ever since Captain Harold Dobey called and told me and my wife that our son could be dying, I’d been completely out of my depth.
I had refused to allow Margaret to accompany me but caught the first flight and had spent the last few days at Lincoln Hospital, not bothering to check into a hotel. I’d not spoken to anyone in authority, or made demands of the staff, as I would normally have done. I had such a sense of impotence, I attempted to remain invisible. Instead of threatening, verbally abusing those who were busily going about their jobs, or insisting on information they may not have had, I mingled with the families of others struck down by some sort of… plague. How such a thing could happen, in this day and age of miracle drugs, was something I couldn’t comprehend. Why was Kenneth in critical condition in an isolation ward?
I’d never met Ken’s partner, David Starsky, and I didn’t introduce myself now. I watched. Since there was nothing I could physically do to affect the outcome of the search I learned was underway, I put all my roiling thoughts and emotions on hold, and observed.
To my astonishment, what I saw was the kind of dedication, loyalty, support, and perseverance I’d only read about in books and studied in university psychology courses. Starsky displayed total commitment to a person, other than himself, and to a goal that seemed impossible: finding one man among thousands who held the cure for all those who hadn’t already died. Including and especially, it seemed, my son.
Dr. Kauffman and Dr. Meredith, whose names I’d heard from others in the waiting room, were doing everything possible but it wasn’t enough. Ken’s condition worsened and all I could do was stand where I was able to see through the window, when no one was around, to where he was beginning to struggle for his next breath.
Detective Starsky drew his name on that window in lipstick and I found myself hoping the letters would give Kenneth the will to continue fighting.
I listened to everyone talking to each other in the waiting room; family members of those stricken. They must have been saying things they’d overheard from staff members because the public wasn’t being told much, officially. We all knew, though, that the situation was critical and growing more so.
I was shocked when Dr. Kauffman led Starsky, gowned and masked, toward Ken’s room. He was the first non-medical person, other than Mrs. Yeager, who had been allowed to see a patient.
Starsky met my eyes for only a second and I knew he’d noted my presence at other times — he seemed to miss nothing. But since I was in no way hindering his mission, he dismissed me, possibly concentrating on whatever he planned to say to Ken.
I rose and walked to a position where I hoped I wouldn’t be noticed but where I could see what was happening in the farthest bed.
Whatever they said was inaudible but I was mesmerized by the intensity of the looks my son and his partner exchanged. After only a few words, Ken began to cough — something I could tell was tearing his lungs apart — and, suddenly, Starsky took my son’s right hand and clasped it tightly in both of his. Within moments, it was evident that Ken’s pain lessened and his breathing became slightly less agonized. I had just witnessed what appeared to be a miracle: Starsky had, somehow, drawn much of Ken’s pain away.
At that moment, my opinion of the course my son had chosen to follow, against my wishes and even commands, changed. Kenneth believed in his profession and had found a partner equally as devoted. And not simply to a job, but to each other.
I almost couldn’t wait to explain to Margaret that the man I had denigrated for not following in my footsteps and for not being able to stick to a profession of which I approved, had truly found his correct path in life. And he had done so not only without my help, but in spite of every obstacle I had thrown in front of him.
I wouldn’t tell her tonight, though, when I called. I’d wait for the final outcome of the drama that was unfolding before me; wait to see whether or not Ken would live. If he died, it would be one story to relate, face to face, after I got home. However, if he managed to live — if Starsky did, indeed, find this Callendar person for whom he and others, I was told, were searching, it would be another story entirely.
I spent many hours holding Helen Yeager’s hand, when she wasn’t in Richie’s room. We didn’t talk very much, we mostly silently supported each other. But the portions of her story she was willing to relate touched me: deserted by a husband who had run off to Canada; raising a son on her own; and now desperately in fear for the boy’s life.
Although I was tempted, I didn’t share my conflicting concerns with her. I couldn’t because Margaret deserved to know before anyone else. Except Ken, of course, if I ever got the chance to speak with him again.
When Captain Dobey agreed to immunity for Callendar and Dr. Kauffman and Helen went on live television with an appeal, everyone in the waiting room quieted. Their words were moving but it was Starsky’s last statement that affected me most. He looked directly into the camera and allowed every viewer to see into his soul. “I know you got a heart, Callendar. Every mother’s son got a heart. No matter what gone down.”
He probably didn’t even realize that his tension had taken him back to what might have been the speech patterns of his childhood.
If Callendar had seen or heard that, I sincerely hoped he’d have the courage to help all the innocents who would probably die, if he didn’t turn himself in.
I waited, like everyone else, and did something I hadn’t done since I’d been very young. I prayed.
We all heard the shots fired outside the hospital but it wasn’t until later that I learned what had happened. Callendar had shown up and been ambushed by the man he’d been hired to kill, someone named Roper.
Callendar had been wounded but would very likely live to take advantage of the deal Starsky had offered. His blood would provide the antibodies needed to create a serum and save Ken’s life, as well as Richie’s, and all the others who would otherwise have died.
Again, I waited. When I did speak to Ken, I wanted it to be after I knew he was almost completely recovered. What I needed to say to him would probably surprise him and I didn’t want to be responsible for any untoward reactions.
I knew, from the hospital grapevine, that Dr. Kauffman was leaving and that Kenneth and his partner would be escorting her to the airport. I grabbed a taxi in front of the hospital and asked the driver to follow the bright red car, which I had discovered belonged to Starsky. How, I wondered, did he and my son ever manage to surveil a suspect in that distinctive vehicle? The thought had me smiling all the way to Bay City International.
When Ken, Starsky, and Dr. Kauffman entered the terminal, I paid my driver, took my valise, and went in, remaining well behind them as they said their goodbyes at the boarding gate.
Afterward, preceding my son and his partner down the escalator and outside, I waited next to the Torino.
As they came out of the doors, I saw Starsky spot me and his expression hardened immediately. He put a hand on Ken’s arm, stopping their progress. “That guy’s been following us, Hutch,” I heard him say.
The look on my son’s face went through several emotions: confusion, recognition, then complete surprise. “It’s okay, Starsk.”
With his partner trailing only half a step behind, a look of suspicion in his intense eyes, they crossed the traffic lanes toward me.
When we were all standing on the sidewalk, I held out my hand to Ken.
“Father,” he said, as he firmly shook my hand, his tone giving away nothing of what he might be feeling. “What may I ask are you doing here?”
“Your captain called us as soon as you were admitted to the hospital. I knew there was nothing I could do but I had to come.”
“And mother?”
“She wanted to be here but I forbad it.”
“You forbad it?” Ken dropped my hand as if it had been scalded.
Never having been very good at apologies or asking for understanding, I tried to do both. “I know what that sounds like but please let me explain.”
As if remembering his manners, Ken turned to his partner. “Dave Starsky, meet Richard Hutchinson.”
Still wary, Starsky stuck his hand out to me. “You were at the hospital…. A lot.”
I took the offering; the grip was firm but not crushing, and nodded. “I was. And now you understand why.” I turned to Ken. “Can we go somewhere? I have about half an hour before my flight and I’d like to talk.”
Ken glanced at the waiting car before smiling at his partner. “Well, since you don’t have a ticket yet, maybe we could all go back to the coffee shop?”
Starsky shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you want, buddy.”
I picked up my valise and, without another look at me, my son led his partner and me back through the glass doors of the terminal and to the closest cafe. After we’d taken seats at a table and given the waitress our orders for “just coffee,” I stared at my son for a few moments, not having prepared a speech. It was somewhat difficult but, eventually, and without either of them pressing me, I found the words.
“It’s no secret that I’ve been somewhat displeased with the life choices you’ve made, Ken.”
My son actually chuckled and Starsky’s grin was crooked. Apparently, Ken hadn’t been reluctant to tell his partner about our family’s history.
“No, sir,” Ken replied. “That has never been a secret.”
The waitress brought our cups, I took the check, and she left. None of us drank, though. They waited me out.
“Well…” I swallowed the constriction in my throat. “What I wanted to say — before I go home and tell your mother everything I’ve seen recently — is that I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The expression that finally settled on my son’s face was one of amazement.
“I’ve talked to a lot of people during the last two weeks,” I went on quickly, “while you were recovering. I’ve even had conversations with your Captain Dobey, although I asked him to keep our talks confidential, until I’d had a chance to speak with you myself.”
“And…?” my son prodded.
“And what I’ve come to understand is that you…” I looked at Starsky — who was no longer staring daggers at me, but who was plainly undecided about what he thought of me — before turning back to Ken. “You both are doing what you were meant to do. You’re standing up for those who can’t defend themselves, and you’re helping people.”
My son was obviously taken aback.
Starsky blinked, then sat up straight, before he grinned at Ken. “There ya go, partner! Our second miracle in as many weeks!” He looked back at me and stood up. “Mr. Hutchinson –”
“Richard,” I said. “Please.”
“May I get you a bagel or something to go with that coffee, sir?” he asked.
“Yes, you may, Detective Starsky. Plain, please. No embellishments.”
He graced me with a version of the gentle, kind looks I’d seen him bestow on my son. “Dave,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he walked toward the counter.
I looked back at Ken. “He’s someone I would never have approved of as a friend for you, but now that I’ve seen him in action, and the results of his deep affection for you, I believe I understand why you’ve chosen him. He is, most definitely, one of a kind.”
Ken glanced fondly toward his partner, who was chatting with the waitress. “He’s a keeper, all right, Father.”
Dave brought bagels for himself and me, and wheat toast for Ken. In companionable silence, we ate until the public address system announced my flight.
I took out my wallet, extracted a five dollar bill and placed it, with the check, under my saucer.
We all stood and Ken stuck out his hand. “Thanks for coming. Give my love to Mother.”
I took it and held his gaze. “I certainly will. And believe me when I say I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!”
I picked up my case and walked away, knowing they were both staring at my back. What they said to each other after that I have no idea but I was extremely pleased that my son and I were on much better terms than we had ever been. I even had the idea that I should ask Margaret to invite them for Christmas.
Awesome story, Pat! When I first started to read it I thought it would be Dr Kaufman’s POV. That would have been fine but I was more eager to keep on reading when I realized it was Hutch’s Dad. You did a great job of drawing his personality. You kept his hardness but threw in helplessness to change the man we’re used to. What a great way for him to learn about Starsky and their closeness by observing them undetected. The ending was lovely, with Richard admitting his mistake about his son’s career choice and the 3 men sitting amiably. And the thought of Hutch’s parents inviting both men for Christmas was sweet. Well done!
Thank you, ChocolateEgg; I’m really glad you enjoyed it. The prompt took a while to percolate in my brain but, once I thought of Hutch’s Father’s POV and The Plague, the story more or less wrote itself. I’m happy to know it struck good chords with you. I appreciate your reading and then taking time to leave your detailed comment. They both mean so very much!
Take care and stay well.
Pat, this was a very enjoyable read. I am impressed by the way you portray Hutch’s father. He only wanted the best for his son, even if he seems to have gone about it in a misguided way. I think that’s the way it is for many parent/child relationships. I really love how he just observes their relationship, without any interference, for the bulk of his time there. He learns more about them, their relationship, and also about Starsky, who he is quite impressed by, that way than he could have ever done otherwise. Great story! Thank you!
You’re most welcome, Shazta! Thank YOU for reading and for the lovely comment, with details! I love knowing what worked for my readers. We really have very little in canon about Hutch’s parents but this is the way I’ve always pictured his father: authoritative and unforgiving. The prompt for this story gave me a chance to portray him a little differently. I’m so glad you approved. Take good care and Happy Holidays.
What a wonderful observation by Hutch’s father. The emotional coldness of this man seemed to melt away with each paragraph. The thought about an invitation for Christmas was probably the warmest this relationship has ever been.
Thank you for this little insight into the Hutchinson family.
You’re welcome, KB; I thank you for the time you took reading and then leaving your kind words. They mean a great deal to me. Happy Holidays and stay well into the new year!
Wow, what a great story! I love when someone writes about the boys from another person’s point of view and you wrote a great Mr. Hutchinson (though I’m not sure any parent could be satisfied with just watching when their child is almost dying in front of their eyes). Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Sandra; I’m happy that you liked it.
The way I felt about Richard Hutchinson’s character is this: he’d never allowed himself to care about his son in a personal way before, so he was incapable of showing concern during his vigil. But his observations and conclusions were able to change his perspective and show him the son he’d always had but never tried to know.
Thanks so much for reading and for taking the time to let me know you enjoyed it.
Happy Holidays.
This was a very moving story. I loved seeing the story unfold from an outside point of view and thought you painted a great picture of Hutch’s father and his changing view of his son and Starsky. Great job.
Thank you, Lapfordlass; your kind words mean a great deal to me. The outsider’s POV is one I enjoy writing, if I feel it’s valid, and in this case, I thought it was. I’m so glad to know it worked for you.
Take good care!
(Sniffle) You are still the S&H story-teller master craftsperson.
You’ve written a beautiful story, DPPatricks. I like how Hutch’s father is able to accept his son’s life and let go of the past. And Starsky going from protective to warm acceptance of Dad Hutchinson is so in character. Thank you!
To the elves – Thank You, too! Great illustration.
You’re very welcome!
What a kind thing to say, MatSir, THANK YOU. I’m pleased with this story on many levels and you mentioned several of them; thanks for seeing them. I really appreciate your reading, and then letting me know you liked it. I’m grateful!
Stay well and Happy Holidays!
I so love missing scenes from the Plague and this is a brilliant one. Loved how Starsky was so focussed and protective right to the end. And Richard standing back and watching, keeping his distance was so credible. Let’s hope he remembers his insights and doesn’t revert to type when he gets back home. How dare he forbid H’s mom from coming! I can’t wait to find out what happened at Christmas! (Hint hint). Thank you so much for this.
As an aside, the picture of Richard looks so like a judge on a British cookery show that I did a double-take!
I’m glad you think “this is a brilliant one,” Kate. That means a lot to me!
Actually, I wrote the ‘prequel’ to this story three years ago (not really, but it IS a Hutchinson Family tale and it’s my favorite of all the S&H gen stories I’ve written. It appeared on Day 2 of the 2017 Advent Calendar. If you’re interested, here’s the link {I hope}: http://advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net/2017/calendar/?p=122 )
Thanks for reading and then for your lovely comment.
Dear Elves:
I ditto MatSir’s comment: great image! You’ve topped yourselves yet again! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Awwww, Pat, this is beautiful Just beautiful!
It was the perfect reconcilliation for Hutch and his father.
Thank you for this lovely story!
KUDOS
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Nancy. I loved writing it and I’m thrilled that it’s gotten a nice reception from readers. You’re most welcome. I thank YOU for reading and then for the lovely comment.
Take good care of y0urself and stay well.
It’s nice to read a story about Hutch’s parents. Many writers portray his father as being a tyrant and unfeeling. Refreshing to see him from another point of view. Stern and unyielding in the beginning, but underneath all his bluster, it’s nice that in the end his love for his son shines through.
What nice things to say, EdieCee; thank you! When the idea came to me, I thought it might be a good time to investigate ideas I’d had about Hutch’s father’s new feelings. I’m so glad they struck the right chords with you. I really appreciate your reading and then writing.
I really enjoyed the story, particularly because I am drawn to stories about the episode “The Plague”, which had some of the best hurt/comfort moments of the series, although not enough of them (in my opinion). I always found it odd that no one in Hutch’s family came to visit him, but I know that was probably more about the writers’ need for movement of the story line than Hutch actually not having people in his life. So, next time I watch the Plague I will look in the background for Hutch’s father peering around corners and standing in the background while Starsky pines for his partner- well at least I will see him in my imagination!
Cheers and Happy Holidays
Thank you so much, shfan! ‘The Plague’ does seem to lend itself to fanfiction imagination, doesn’t it? I’m really glad you enjoyed my contribution. We didn’t get much in canon about Hutch’s family because, in those days, every episode of nearly all TV series was only about that particular story line; nobody cared about backstory or continuity or character development. And that’s one of the reasons why fanfiction thrives, I guess. Yea!
Thank you, again, for reading, and then for taking the time to let me know it was a pleasant experience.
Stay safe and well.
Well done! I believed this totally. I’m so happy that Richard talked to Hutch (and Starsky). I’m happy about this! Thanks so much.
What a kind thing to say, kat, that you believed it totally. You’re very welcome and I’m glad I could make you happy. Thank YOU.
That was wonderful. I love the new stories and this one especially because it centers around one of my favorite episodes! I really appreciate the work you put into your stories!! Thank You and Happy Holidays!
Thanks so much, dawn pressley. The Plague is a favorite of many SH fans, I guess, and this particular prompt allowed me to investigate an aspect of it I’d never thought of before. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
Take care and Happy Holidays.
“The Fix” is my favorite episode, but I have others too with “The Plague” one of them. But I don’t see as much “The Plague” fanfiction as I’d like to, so it was great reading your story.
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Robbin. The Plague was never one of my favorite episodes but it did seem appropriate for this prompt, the way I thought of it. I really appreciate your reading and then taking the time to leave your lovely comment.
Interesting story involving Hutch’s Dad having a change of heart, Pat. Very stern guy. Cold, bossy and controlling. Her son is dying and Hutch’s mother doesn’t come. Whoa! That is one meek woman. Her husband forbade her to come and she obeyed. Your take on Hutch’s parents explains some of Hutch’s issues.
I’m glad you found it interesting, Ursula. I always felt Hutch’s father was, as you say, a stern guy, and very controlling. And, as for the mother? You’re younger than Hutch, Starsky and I are, so I’m not surprised that my depiction of her makes you uncomfortable. Women of that time, especially of her social status, didn’t make waves when their husbands made decisions. I don’t see her as meek, so much as pliant. She went along to get along, as it were.
Anyway, thanks for reading and then for taking the time to leave your considered comment.
Happy New Year!
Lovely story, and I love the outside POV!
Thanks so much, Queenafoster; I’m so glad to know you enjoyed it. I really appreciate your reading and then letting me know it appealed to you. THANK YOU
Outside POV stories give the opportunity to explore different aspects of S&H’s dynamic, and you’ve used it so well here. Not to mention, it’s so nice to have (at least) one of Hutch’s parents make an appearance at such a critical moment. Thanks, Pat!
You’re more than welcome, Baby, I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I love Outsider POVs too, and the unique look they can give us of the guys we love so well. I agree, at least one of his parents *should* have been in the script but we all know how uncaring the producers/writers were in those days. So we in fandom fill in the blanks.
Thanks so very much for reading and then, even more, for taking the time to let me know it struck good chords with you. Happy New Year, and please Stay WELL.
I read some time ago a third-person story from Hutch’s father’s POV during “The Plague.” It was good, but this one fit my head canon much better and the use of first person was excellent in giving Richard his own distinctive voice. Well done.
Thanks, Maria, I’m glad it worked for you. Do you remember the title or author of the other story? I think I read it, too, but am not sure. Email me about this, please.
Happy New Year and please stay well.