December 7th: Wrong Way, Right Direction by Daisy Morgan

“Starsk, what the hell are you doing!”

“Driving through the tunnel again—what’s it look like?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, why don’t you just admit that we’re lost?”

“We are not lost. I know where we’re going. I just don’t know how to get there. The road signs around here are incomprehensible.”

“Incomprehensible? Is that a new word you just learned?”

“Look, will ya be quiet so I can concentrate on where we’re goin’?”

“We’re going in circles, Starsk… around and around and around. Like we’re on a hamster wheel!”

“And you… you’re no help. I thought you knew how to read maps!”

“I do. I can’t help the fact that this map you bought in no way resembles the reality of the roads we’ve been driving on. You sure this is the right map?”

“It says Bay City, Oregon, doesn’t it?”

“Then why does that sign over there say ‘Welcome to Bay City, Michigan’?”

“Michigan? Didn’t it say ‘Welcome to Bay City, Florida’ the last time we passed it?”

“It did. Dammit, Starsky, what the hell is happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind! I told you we were going the wrong way. You should just pull over so we can try to figure a way out of this.”

“Do you see anywhere I can pull over in here? And is it me, or does it seem like this tunnel keeps gettin’ longer each time we go through it?”

“It’s probably you.”

“Finally. I’m gonna make a right turn this time. We can’t possibly end up back in the tunnel if I go the other direction.”

“Oh yeah, then what the hell is that?”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me! ‘Welcome to Bay City, Washington.’ I didn’t even know there was a town in Washington State called ‘Bay City.'”

“I just want to get back to Bay City, California, Starsk. Back to my nice, predictable, dangerous life where I get shot at by guys named Fat Moo-Moo from Philly and run off the road by psycho hitmen from Tucson. Anything is better than being stuck in your tomato in an endless loop where nothing changes no matter what choices we make.”

Starsky started to say something, but thought better of it and promptly closed his mouth. Telling Hutch now wouldn’t make their situation any easier to deal with.

“What about a mom-and-son duo from Cleveland?”

“What did you say?”

“Do you wanna go back to that life, too?” Shit, Starsky thought. Telling Hutch what he really wanted to say would probably have been a better idea than bringing up Cleveland. Because Cleveland meant Gillian, and Hutch had loved Gillian. But Gillian was dead, and no amount of driving in circles was gonna change that, he was sure of it.

“Are you asking me if I want to relive finding my girlfriend’s body lying lifeless in her living room?”

Starsky glanced at Hutch and saw the look of hurt and reproach on his partner’s face.

“I’m sorry, Hutch. I shouldn’t have said that. I know how much you loved her. It’s just that… you brought up perps from those other towns and Cleveland popped into my head. I’ll bet there’s a Bay City in Ohio, too.”

“I don’t think there is.”

“Does it matter? I’ll bet there’s enough Bay Cities in the U.S. to keep us driving around in circles for the rest of our lives.”

“Why couldn’t I relive meeting Gillian for the first time? Or our first kiss? The first time I took her to dinner?”

Starsky’s heart thudded in his chest. “Would you want that, Hutch?” He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“Compared to being stuck here with you? Definitely.”

Now it was Starsky’s turn to feel hurt. He couldn’t help it. That niggling pang of jealousy he felt deep inside him, whenever Gillian’s name was mentioned, always twisted his heart into little knots.

Hutch must have seen it, because his tone instantly changed from flippant to apologetic. “Oh come on, Starsk… you know I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure you did. You loved Gillian. And from the day you met her, until the day she died, you were in seventh heaven.”

Silence hung between them like an accusation as Starsky entered the tunnel for the umpteenth time that day. As the Torino sped toward the ever-distant opening at the end of the narrow two-lane tube, he debated whether he should ask Hutch the question he’d wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear the answer. He asked anyway.

“Would you have asked her to marry you if she hadn’t, ya know… been murdered?”

Hutch took a deep breath and let out a loud sigh. “I think so… yeah.”

“That’s what I thought.” Starsky could hear the remorse in his own voice and regretted ever opening his mouth. They both stared straight ahead as they passed by the sign, this time welcoming them to Bay City, Illinois.

“You never did like her, did you?” Hutch’s tone was quiet and pensive, his words more a statement than a question.

“That’s not true, Hutch, and you know it. She was a lovely girl. Kind… compassionate… a beautiful person inside and out. And she loved you.”

“Then why does my wanting to marry her make you sad?”

“Who said it makes me sad? Besides, why did my talking about marrying Helen get you so down? Don’t deny it, Hutch. I saw the look on your face when I told you that day in the park.”

They were approaching the entrance to the tunnel again. For the first time since this all began, Starsky realized that it was still nighttime, and the color of the sky had not lightened. Shouldn’t it be morning by now? How many hours had it been? Or was it days? He was starting to wonder if he’d lost his mind and was really confined to a rubber room in Cabrillo State, wearing a straitjacket and mumbling to himself. It’s the only explanation he could think of that made any sense.

Or maybe he and Hutch were both dead and this was their own personal hell. But would he really consider it hell to be stuck forever driving his beloved Torino with his best friend in the whole world by his side? That sounded more like heaven to Starsky. Maybe he’d been wrong about everything. He looked over at Hutch who was impatiently turning the map in all different directions, evidently trying to make sense of the two-dimensional representation of whichever Bay City they happened to be in at the moment.

Without further hesitation, he blurted it out. “I know you loved Gillian, and I loved Helen. But I love you, too, Hutch.”

“And I love you, buddy. But no offense, I just want to get the hell home.”

“That’s not what I meant. I love you.”

“Yeah, you already said that.” Hutch paused. “What do you mean, that’s not what you meant?”

“You’re my best friend, Hutch, and I love you as a friend… but I also love you not as a friend.”

“Well, now you’re making about as much sense as this map.”

They were approaching the entrance to the tunnel again. Starsky estimated it was about a quarter-mile ahead. But was it the same tunnel or a different one? They all looked the same, but each one had led them to a different Bay City, and never the one they wanted. Why?

Suddenly, he had an idea.

This ends now. Starsky jammed his foot down on the accelerator as the Torino sped towards the tunnel’s open yaw.

“Starsky, slow down!”

Starsky could hear the panic in Hutch’s voice, but it only made him more determined. The needle on the car’s speedometer inched menacingly closer toward the highest number on the gauge.

“I don’t just love you as a friend, Hutch. I love you the way I loved Helen. Like the way you loved Gillian.” As they entered the tunnel, Starsky reached out and took Hutch’s hand. And as the curved walls of the tunnel closed around them once again, Starsky could feel Hutch’s hand squeezing his.

Their hands remained clasped together as they sped through the tunnel at breakneck speed, and while neither of them said a word, Starsky was convinced he knew what Hutch was thinking.

As the Torino barreled past, the walls of the tunnel were a barely perceptible blur of white subway tiles and dim red lights, but up ahead, Starsky could see brightness at the other end of the tunnel. As they approached it, Starsky wondered which Bay City they would find themselves in this time.

The car exited the tunnel into the glaring sunlight of a new day. The darkness was finally gone. Starsky squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. But despite the blurriness, he could clearly make out the words on the sign. ‘Welcome to Bay City, California.’

As if on cue, Starsky spotted Ocean Avenue just ahead and made a right turn onto it. Soon they pulled up in front of Venice Place and Starsky, needing his right hand to put the gearshift lever into park, let go of Hutch’s hand for the first time since they’d entered the tunnel.

But after exiting the car and joining each other on the sidewalk, their hands once again clasped together as they walked through the doorway and up the stairs toward their future.

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