{"id":53,"date":"2016-12-10T06:34:01","date_gmt":"2016-12-10T06:34:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/?p=53"},"modified":"2016-12-10T06:34:01","modified_gmt":"2016-12-10T06:34:01","slug":"december-10th-giving-is-the-true-gift-by-dawnwind","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/?p=53","title":{"rendered":"December 10th- Giving is the True Gift by Dawnwind"},"content":{"rendered":"

Hutch scooped up a serving of mashed potatoes and placed it next to the slice of turkey swimming in gravy. He estimated he\u2019d done this now two, if not three, dozen times in the last hour. His new found practice to negate the holiday anti-euphoric sentimentalism that frequently hit him in December: helping to feed the poor at the 99th Street Dining Room.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next tray slid to his station and Hutch dished up another helping of mashed potatoes and turkey, pausing to smile at a young man with dark brown eyes. The man was dressed in dirty, well-worn fatigues. He gazed longingly at the meal, clearly hungry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave a merry Christmas,\u201d Hutch said sincerely. This was why giving was important. Helping another somehow raised his own spirits.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d the young man answered before moving his tray to the next volunteer who was handing out dessert.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis pie is terrific!\u201d Starsky assured the man with a wink. \u201cYou want whipped cream with that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPie is enough,\u201d the man said shyly, glancing back at the line of people waiting behind him. \u201cIt\u2019s more than\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave another piece!\u201d Starsky held up a plate in each hand, apple pie on the left and pumpkin on the right. \u201cFor later\u2014which do you like better?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cApple.\u201d The man pointed with a sudden smile that did wonders to his narrow, pale face. \u201cLike my mom used to make.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe guy dressed like Santa has a gift for you and some cookies, too,\u201d Starsky confided as if he hadn\u2019t said this several hundred times already that day.<\/span><\/p>\n

The man walked over to the tables, and Hutch dished up more potatoes and turkey. Starsky handed out more pie, cajoling the hungry people to take another piece or an extra dollop of whipped cream. Anything to chase the hopelessness out of their eyes for one moment.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGentlemen, thank you so much for staying an extra half hour.\u201d Caroline Hampton, manager of 99th Street Free Dining Room, said at 2:30, giving Hutch a pat on the shoulder and extending a hand to Starsky. \u201cThe Bay City Girl Scout Troop finally made it here; their leader\u2019s car had a flat. You\u2019re relieved.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Two girls dressed in familiar green uniforms grinned enthusiastically at Starsky and Hutch. Both were 16 or 17. Hutch had the uncomfortable feeling that if he stayed any longer, the redhead on the left would start flirting. He might be between lady friends currently, but a girl still in high school, no matter how pretty, was off limits.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe liked you.\u201d Starsky winked when they\u2019d removed their hairnets and plastic gloves and collected their jackets to leave.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe girl scout?\u201d Hutch asked, horrified.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Ms. Hampton.\u201d Starsky raised his eyebrows in a vague Groucho Marx leer, but it seemed forced.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s married, Starsk,\u201d Hutch said, hunching his shoulders against the drizzly rain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo wedding ring.\u201d Starsky fished out the keys to the Torino and they both scrambled inside the car. The windshield wipers swiped lazily across the glass with a scraping sound.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWould you wear a wedding ring while dishing out food all day?\u201d Hutch glanced at his friend, well aware there was something bothering Starsky, but for the life of him, he couldn\u2019t figure out what. Starsky had been uncharacteristically quiet, his banter with the Dining Room’s guests less boisterous toward the end of their shift.<\/span><\/p>\n

He and Starsky had had a great day so far. They\u2019d met for coffee and breakfast at a diner near 99th Street so Starsky could load up on donuts decorated with candy cane striped icing before serving Christmas Eve lunch. Sure, Starsky had given all the usual protests about using up a perfectly good day off in the service of charity, but his eyes had twinkled with delight when he and Hutch started handing out food. That light had faded to troubled sadness as the shift wore on.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky steered the gaudy car through the wet streets, past Christmas trimmings adorning every store. He didn\u2019t ooh and ah with glee at every one the way he had for the last month and a half when they\u2019d driven by the same decorations. Hutch had to probe or he\u2019d be worried for the rest of the evening.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSomething on your mind, buddy?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Starsky inhaled so fast he choked and coughed through the red light. \u201cWhat\u2019re you talking about?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Giving him a helpful pound on the back, Hutch could feel Starsky\u2019s heart racing completely out of proportion to the situation. \u201cYou\u2019re scared?\u201d he probed gently.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNah.\u201d Starsky shrugged self consciously, pulling the car onto the 110 freeway. \u201cI just\u2014kinda had some… memories, I guess you\u2019d call \u2018em, when we were at the Dining Room.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve helped out there before?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot helped.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky didn\u2019t say anything more, and Hutch let him concentrate on driving. The pavement was slick with rain. With the Christmas shopping season about to expire, and people hurrying home for the holiday, there were far too many cars on the road. Not that that was unusual any day of the week in Bay City.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was also obvious that Starsky had more to say. Hutch could almost see the little hamsters in his brain scurrying madly about, working out how much to reveal and what to keep back.<\/span><\/p>\n

This was something personal.<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky was maneuvering the heavy car onto the off-ramp for Venice when he finally spoke. \u201cI\u2019d eaten there, at 99th, a long time ago.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Damn<\/em>. Hutch couldn\u2019t come up with anything constructive or even half-way supportive to say. \u201cWhen?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAfter I came back.\u201d Starsky turned the car left then right in the direction of Hutch\u2019s apartment building. \u201cFrom Viet Nam.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch had worked that much out for himself. He\u2019d known that Starsky had a difficult time assimilating back to civilian life, but hadn\u2019t realized it had been that bad. \u201cWas the food good?\u201d he asked, which sounded lame even to his own ears. What could he say? Sorry? It had happened ten years ago.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot sure I even cared.\u201d Starsky stopped in front of Venice Place, looking up at Hutch\u2019s building instead of at Hutch. \u201cI was all mixed up inside. Like life was choking me and I couldn\u2019t get a breath. I needed a job, \u2018cause the room I was renting was eating up all the money I had\u2026\u201d He clasped his hands together, fingers knotted. \u201cAt first, it was food just so I could get by, and then\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch put a hand on Starsky\u2019s shoulder, feeling the tension begin to drain away simply from his touch. Or was it being able to talk about that time after so long?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI started to make friends.\u201d Starsky smiled shyly. \u201cMs. Hampton wasn\u2019t there back then.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t think so; she\u2019d have been about twelve,\u201d Hutch teased gently and was rewarded with an attempt at a laugh.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSixteen,\u201d Starsky countered as expected. \u201cOld Man Penworthy ran the place. Looked like a grizzled old scarecrow, but he\u2019d been on Normandy Beach in \u201844. It was like he knew exactly when to spoon a slop of mashed potatoes and gravy on your plate and when to sit down and talk for a minute. Sometimes he\u2019d slip a banana or an apple into my pocket.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA good guy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Starsky cocked his head, clearly half in the past. \u201cI was kinda, you know, afraid that he\u2019d still be there, running the show, and that I\u2019d\u2014\u201c He raised his hands, palms up as if unable to find the words. \u201cI\u2019d be caught between my old life and now. But it wasn\u2019t so bad, seeing all those guys. Some of \u2018em sad, but trying. Some of them you know\u2019ll never make it off the streets cause they\u2019re too fucked up, and some of them\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWere you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. The Dining Room was a stop along the way, and they helped me. One day, Penworthy passed along that the cab company needed drivers\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo you got a job.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I met Huggy there.\u201d Starsky shook his head at Hutch\u2019s unasked question. \u201cHe wasn\u2019t eating. He worked at this restaurant down the street that used to give the Dining Room left over stuff. Mostly bread and old carrots, stuff like that, but Penworthy didn\u2019t ever have a decent budget for enough food.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNow how would you know that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI asked.\u201d Starsky\u2019s mood seemed far lighter, less burdened by past sadness. \u201cFigured I should give back somehow. As a cabbie, I met a lot of people. Sometimes important people. You can put a bug in the right city council person\u2019s ear.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s wonderful!\u201d Hutch grinned. \u201cThey gave you a boost and you gave them one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI guess so.\u201d Starsky got out, standing in the misty rain until Hutch had hurried to the relative shelter of the door before locking the car. \u201cA couple of the men tonight\u2026\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe one you gave two pieces of pie.\u201d Hutch nodded, leading the way up the stairs. \u201cStruck a chord?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Starsky took a deep breath, ducking his head when he stood on the last step before the landing.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch pretended to fumble with his house key to give Starsky a moment. He\u2019d seen the glint of tears in those blue eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s do that again, Hutch,\u201d Starsky muttered. \u201cGive them a boost.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t have to twist my arm.\u201d Hutch swung open the door, hoping his surprise would banish the rest of Starsky\u2019s blues.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey!\u201d Starsky cried, walking into the decorated room. \u201cYou took my advice.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAdvice?\u201d Hutch snorted. \u201cMore like demands.\u201d Still, he liked the effect, particularly the red and gold candles in the window. Starsky\u2019s presence in his life had helped banish his own tendency toward annual holiday blues. He\u2019d stopped complaining so much about euphoric sentimentalism and begun to embrace the hope and joy of Christmas. He\u2019d even gone into a church a couple weeks ago, to see the children of the congregation light the Advent wreath candles.<\/span><\/p>\n

More than anything, though, he wanted to celebrate his friendship with Starsky. That was the gift that kept on giving, even if Starsky did demand he buy a Christmas tree, ornaments, and holiday food.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI only draped the tree with a garland and lights,\u201d Hutch said, waving a hand at the pile of ornaments beside the evergreen. \u201cI figured you\u2019d\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky didn\u2019t have to be told. He was already lifting red and blue balls out of the box with the delight of a six-year-old. \u201cHutch, these are terrific! Did you get the candy canes? And maybe some popcorn to string?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLet me heat up the hot chocolate and find the bottle of peppermint schnapps you hid so obviously in my cupboard.\u201d Hutch laughed, rooting in the kitchen for milk, chocolate powder, and a pot. \u201cHad enough of mashed potatoes and turkey for the year. Huggy\u2019s bringing over ham and mac and cheese for dinner.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d Starsky hung two balls onto a branch and added the slightly demented Santa he\u2019d given Hutch for Christmas the year before. \u201cAs long as there\u2019s something for dessert.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAfter spiked hot chocolate, you still want dessert?\u201d Hutch rolled his eyes, but it was only for effect. This was what made him happy; making Starsky happy. It was going to be a great Christmas Eve. And in the morning, they\u2019d still be together, cruising the streets of Bay City, watching for holiday criminals.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch!\u201d Starsky groaned, placing a gold ball onto the tree next to the little Matchbox red Torino that Hutch had given him last Christmas. \u201cGotta have cookies. And pie. It\u2019s Christmas!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Didn\u2019t matter that the Jewish elf wasn\u2019t raised to believe that Jesus was born on December 25th, it was celebrating the pure love and optimism for new life that counted. Something Starsky celebrated 365 days of the year.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re in luck, then.\u201d Hutch hauled out the box his sister had sent after her two daughters made cookies. \u201cAll the gingerbread cops you can eat.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMerry Christmas, Hutch!\u201d Starsky declared, selecting the cookie policeman with the most icing decorations, including m&m\u2019s for buttons.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMerry Christmas right back at you,\u201d Hutch said, truly joyful.<\/span><\/p>\n

FIN<\/span><\/p>\n

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Hutch scooped up a serving of mashed potatoes and placed it next to the slice of turkey swimming in gravy. He estimated he\u2019d done this now two, if not three, dozen times in the last hour. His new found practice … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-53","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-gen"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=53"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":193,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53\/revisions\/193"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=53"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=53"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2016\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=53"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}