Story #7: What Comes After
The silence in the vast warehouse seemed to dare them to move, to attempt the impossible.
Within this jumble of shelved boxes, scattered hunks of machinery pieces and enough junk to qualify for a dump, they had been told there were four men in the process of negotiating the drug deal of the century. Secrecy was of course the watchword to be overcome when investigating such faint rumours, but they had done their job well and anticipated sending the bad guys to their just reward.
Exchanging silent glances, eyes conveying the usual cautions, they separated and began a stealthy prowl through the debris towards the murmur of voices they could now hear.
Starsky quickly lost sight of his partner as he manoeuvred his way forward in a rambling circuit towards what he could now see was a group of offices set against the far wall.
And he could now see they were severely outnumbered. Instead of four men calmly going about their business, there were eight men, four acting as armed-to-the-teeth protection. Looked like the four businessmen didn't exactly trust each other.
He hunkered down and considered the options. There were too many possible escape routes in this place and two men had no hope of preventing the main players from slipping by. He had to get their backup in here now.
First priority, however, was to locate his partner. Cautiously he raised his head and scanned the surrounding space. No Hutch. Damn.
Suddenly from off to his right came one sound that could not be disguised as belonging in this Sunday morning pristine environment. The cat was out of the bag so to speak. He quickly called in backup, forgoing the quietude of concealment, then assumed attack stance as he surveyed the battlefield.
All four soldiers had moved out of the office and stood alertly sweeping the area, their heavy armour following their eyes. Things might have stood a chance of being handled systematically if a second loud sneeze had not erupted from just behind his right shoulder, and if he hadn't been a second too slow in attempting to conceal himself.
Two voices simultaneously called out, as four Capone-style gunmen let loose and peppered the area with enough lead to sink a ship.
"Hutch!"
"Starsky!"
Neither heard the frantic entry of backup and the subsequent half-hour shootout.
Starsky rose clear-headed and feeling great. The world was startlingly sharp and totally focused. He knew exactly what was happening around him as he watched the clean-up crew sort out the crime scene. One uniformed officer stood watch with him. As he looked down at himself he couldn't help but comment.
"This sure as hell wasn't the way it was supposed to go."
"I agree with you on that one, partner."
Starsky turned sharply as his partner stepped to his side, his voice accusing. "This is your fault, Hutchinson. We had them, damn it. You and your stupid allergies. Now what do we do, huh?"
Hutch looked back at him and shrugged with embarrassment. "Sorry, couldn't help it. There were three cats that followed me continuously. Damn things practically climbed my back."
"Yeah, yeah, always some dumb excuse."
The two stood shoulder-to-shoulder as the paramedics arrived to remove their bodies. Their fellow officers watched with quiet respect as the ritual procedure was completed.
"We're dead, Hutch."
"I see that, Starsky."
"Don't you feel anything?"
"Do you?"
Starsky looked at his partner, best friend. "Yeah, I do. Butch and Sundance, Hutch. We went out together just like we planned."
Both raised their hands, and with an energetic high-five slap, celebrated Fates generosity.
Hutch made a grab for his back pocket as another sneeze erupted, promptly followed by another.
"Damn Hutch, your sneezes are just as disgusting in this life as in the last one."
"Screw you. Damn cats are still here. See?"
Starsky watched as two black cats edged their way closer to them.
"These can't be the same cats, can they?"
"Doubt it, probably their ancestors or something. What do we do now?"
"Well, I could use a beer. How 'bout it?"
Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm. "We can't do that, dummy. We're dead. Dead men don't eat or drink."
"How do you know? I want to go to The Pits and..."
Before Starsky could finish speaking, they were standing in front of the bar in The Pits. Both exchanged quizzical glances, and then looked around as a polite female voice enquired, "What will it be, fellas?"
Starsky recovered first. "Two beers."
When the white foam-capped glasses were placed in front of them, they hesitantly picked them up, sent a challenging glance at each other, and then timidly took a sip.
Starsky beamed. "See, I told ya Hutch--beer. And it tastes wonderful." Turning to the blond barkeep, he continued, "Are you new? Don't think I've seen you here before."
"No, I've been around a long time. Just minding the place 'til Huggy gets here. I'm Harriet Flanders."
Both men exchanged greetings with her.
"I know that name from somewhere. Have we met?" asked Hutch.
"Never have. Maybe Huggy mentioned me. He bought this place from me."
"Maybe so," said Hutch, unconcerned by his lack of recall. "Let's sit down, Starsk."
They spent some quiet time sipping their beers in silent appreciation.
"It's nice, isn't it?" commented Starsky.
"What's nice?"
"This feeling of completion. The lack of tension and worry. A kind of satisfaction in having it over."
Hutch gave his partner an appreciative look and saluted him with his glass. "You hit the nail right on the head, Starsk. Well said."
An eternity later Starsky said, "Hutch."
"Yeah, Starsk."
"Shouldn't we be sad, or worried, or somethin'?"
"About what?"
"Well, we're dead right?"
"Right."
"What about our friends and family. Shouldn't we be sad about them, or about ourselves?"
Hutch spent some time thinking about that. "I don't know Starsk, this is new to me. I don't feel sad or angry. Feel quite content actually. Just feel like we're waiting for something."
"Yeah, me too."
"Maybe I can help, gentlemen."
Neither man had noticed the arrival of a third person at their table. The woman who sat opposite them would qualify for your typical grandmother-cum-saint image. She radiated comfort and peace, with eyes that twinkled humour, compassion and understanding. There was no guessing her age, she seemed timeless, yet was so down-to-earth Hutch expected her to offer some warm-from-the-oven cookies.
Both men stood in respect, as they would for an elderly family member. She waved them down with a warm chuckle.
"Thank you David, Ken. It's been awhile since I've had the pleasure to meet such nice boys. My name is Pepper Ann Salte."
Starsky couldn't help it. As much as he tried, he could not stop the laughter at hearing her name. In fact he roared with such amusement and glee that Hutch and Pepper joined him in innocent delight.
"My momma had a wicked sense of humour," Pepper said, "and I suffered from it all my life. I think she figured that it was the only thing she could give me that would make me fight. Poor Daddy, he never understood momma."
Pepper's muted skin tone certainly stated her heritage, but her goodness and pride made you ignore it completely. She was all heart and soul.
They chatted amiably for what seemed like hours before Pepper turned to more serious business.
"You have both accepted your death remarkably well, and that will make the next step easier. David, earlier you asked why you weren't sad or worried about family and friends. How do you feel now?"
Starsky didn't hesitate. "There's still a little concern, but it’s fading. It's like I don't care. That feels wrong but somehow normal. Why?"
Pepper nodded when Hutch signalled his agreement. "When you cross the line between life and death, you are stepping into another world, another life being offered. It is one of the blessings of the transition that memory of past life is removed. Most make the transition without fear, accepting what is."
Starsky and Hutch exchanged startled glances as they realized that basically they could not recall the specifics of their past and had just haunting memories of some things just being right--like The Pits, and the name Huggy.
"However, there are many that can't be reached because they are tied to their previous existence by deep emotion or circumstance. We have decided to try an experiment. We want the two of you to act as investigators. We have been waiting for your arrival to initiate this project."
Hutch blinked at Pepper's transition into modern businesswoman mode. This place was going to take some getting used to.
"Why us?" both voices queried.
Pepper's soft, loving smile glowed over them with such emotion they both experienced a fleeting moment of Mother Love.
"You two have been my special project for a very long time now. I've watched you meet in life after life, unerringly finding each other. Coming together in whatever circumstances to help create a vision of what could be. Your example of the basic goodness in humanity and your love of fairness and justice have healed many wounded souls and brought them comfort. Each life developed your trust, love, and dedication to each other to a greater degree, and to the point where we now feel confident that it is unshakeable. You are almost as one, yet retain your individual and delightful selves."
As Pepper spoke both Starsky and Hutch had been experiencing a kaleidoscope of images: dark and light fighting back-to-back on the Steppes; dark and light astride matching horses charging to the rescue; dark sitting in quiet respect as light lectured at the University; dark and light trying to stop all the blood of battle. And in each scenario, eyes met in shared acknowledgement and conviction.
There was awe in their eyes as they once again looked at each other, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, and knowing that they were fated. In sheer delight they exchanged a rib-cracking hug.
In complete harmony they turned to Pepper, eager to hear about her project and their part in it.
A small, warm smile of acknowledgement from her accepted their willingness to listen.
"No doubt you have heard many "ghost" stories?"
Starsky responded with an energetic "Of course."
Hutch just nodded.
"They are all true. Many souls find they cannot make the transition due to ties they cannot break free of on their own. They remain in limbo frantically seeking what is not yet known. They are incapable of seeing beyond their obsession and therefore remain forever lost."
Both men felt waves of sadness overwhelm them as they thought of the lost souls. Pepper nodded as if able to read their reaction.
"How can we help?" asked Hutch.
Pepper couldn't seem to stop smiling at them. "You two have a unique empathy that draws people to you and allows you to force them into revealing truths and information they were guarding, and in some cases hadn't realized they were privy to. It’s a talent that few have, especially in stressful and dangerous situations. Our lost souls can be dangerous in their tenacity."
At their disbelieving looks, her features solemnized and her tone deepened. "You've heard the expression 'scared to death'? Well, it has truth at its foundation. For too long now we've been too busy to give these souls our full attention, and it pains us. We want you to reach these souls and show them the way home. Find out what is holding them and release them so they can continue on their path."
"Do we have a choice?" Starsky asked with an enquiring soft tone that somehow managed to be more of a request for information than a rejection.
Pepper smiled at his direct, obvious attempt to get down to it. "Yes, of course you do. Your future path is no longer directed. You have free choice."
Starsky and Hutch exchanged one of their patented deep silent conversations. Hutch nodded, and Starsky continued.
"Then we're not in heaven?" Starsky queried.
"Not exactly. You have earned admission, without a doubt, but we feel that your special talents and needs would not be met in that environment. You need fulfillment and challenge. Need to be able to use your talents in aid of others. That will never change for you. And, you need to be together, that is your place, your destiny. Basically, what we are offering is the chance to continue doing what you do best for the greater good. However, I must warn you that there is danger to your souls, and it appears to us that the need is so great, that it would be an eternal assignment."
Hutch's protective antennae shot up, and he stole a quick glance at Starsky. "What kind of danger?"
Pepper carefully considered her reply.
"There is power in death that rivals that of life. Some of our lost souls, intentionally or not, draw that power to them. It can overwhelm an unprepared or vulnerable psyche and turn it from its path to be lost beyond redemption. That power can drain the life force and use it to further empower itself. It can be a violent, destructive thing when used by a soul that no longer has control or recognition of itself."
Starsky and Hutch were suddenly inundated with shockingly dark, whirling impressions of being lost and powerless in unseen hands. They reached for each other naturally and were instantly settled back in the calm comfort of the Pits. They turned challenging, fearless eyes on Pepper.
"That was a glimpse of Power. Exciting, wasn't it?" Her proudly impish tone matched the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips. "Oh my, this is going to be such fun. I haven't felt this good about anything in too many millennia. Well boys, want to think about it over another beer?"
Both men scowled and raised a finger to retaliate against her unconcern for their welfare, but had to grin in response. She was hard to argue with, and they felt the warmth of camaraderie and 'fun' that underlay her confidence in them.
Without having summoned her, Harriet appeared and put two full mugs on their table, nodded and left. When they looked, Pepper was gone.
Silence reigned.
"What are you thinking, Starsk?"
Starsky gave him an untroubled, unruffled look.
"Same thing you are, Hutch."
"Which is?"
A 'get real' look from Starsky. "Pepper's right. Could you really live forever just hanging around on a cloud, smiling every now and then as the bluebird of happiness floated by?"
Hutch chuckled deeply at Starsky's homegrown idea of heaven. "No I couldn't, and neither could you. But, do you want to spend eternity rescuing lost souls and putting yourself in jeopardy again and again?"
Somehow, the answer was important to Hutch. His eyes clouded for just an instant at the thought of Starsky being lost to him.
"Hutch, it's who I am, who you are. Don't you feel it?"
Hutch read the truth, love and beauty before him and knew his own truth as well. "Yeah, Starsk I do; was ever thus, Me and Thee."
Raised, touched beer mugs confirmed an already sealed in granite partnership. They relaxed in comfort and waited.
"Well that was easy, and short," said a delighted Pepper, taking her seat again. "Shall we get started?"
"Whoa, slow down a minute, Pepper." Hutch cautioned. "Don't we get a training period, or something? How are we going to know what to do, and how to do it?"
"Ken, David, all the knowledge of the universe is yours to use, but your natural talents are all you will need. You already know the most important things necessary. However..." Pepper placed a small parchment cylinder on the table in front of them, eyes ordering one of them to pick it up. Starsky obliged.
"David, what do you know about Ronald Campbell Thurston?" Pepper asked.
"Who?" Starsky asked, and then stopped in wonder and surprise. He stammered out an answer, slowly gaining confidence as he recited facts and figures.
"He was born April 23, 1709 in Boston, Massachusetts. He was a ships chandler, married with two children. His parents were from Ireland and immigrated to Boston with his two brothers in 1708. He died in 1747 at the age of 38 after a stack of crates fell on him in his store."
For a moment Starsky exchanged glances with Hutch.
"Whoa, Pepper, how did that happen?" Starsky exclaimed, placing the cylinder back on the table.
Pepper handed the cylinder to Hutch. "Ken, what do you know about Lee Chen Yee?"
Hutch accepted the cylinder and sat with it in his hand for a moment, understanding its purpose.
"He was a railway worker in British Columbia, Canada. He was brought to that country as cheap labour to help build the transcontinental railway. He was born in Hunan province, China in 1864, one of seven children of a poor family. He was sold to agents of the Railway in 1881. He died at the age of eighteen trying to set an explosive charge."
Both men sat quietly as Pepper explained.
"For each soul that we ask you to investigate, we will provide you with similar information on their lives. What we cannot give you is precise data on their daily activities, contacts, friendships, concerns, fears or commitments. That will be for you to discover in your effort to release them. Which is where your unique abilities come in. You will have to approach each one and attempt to understand what is holding them, and then take steps to show them how to overcome that and move on. The danger is that you may have to face their fears, the very thing that imprisons them. It would be like getting inside their heads, yet remaining your own self."
Pepper showed no concern at all for their well being as she once again smiled at them.
"But that is what makes you so well equipped for this task. Together you stabilize and protect each other, each providing what the other needs, knowing instinctively where the other is going and how to help. You challenge and meet all obstacles with a united strength and will guided by a trust and faith that looks for truth only in each other. You are remarkable in your knowledge of each other, and your understanding of the individual and their unique situations. Just what we need."
Pepper sat back and once again beamed at them with confidence and love. What could they say? Her words left little room for doubt and their exchanged glance only confirmed that, with each other as backup, they had faced and overcome some mighty powerful and dangerous enemies.
"O.K." said Hutch, "What now?"
Starsky suddenly seemed to think of something. "Wait Hutch, just a minute."
Two pairs of eyes questioned him.
"Well, um...I just want to know..."
"Come on Starsk, what?" pushed Hutch.
"Well," his little boy glance going to Pepper, "Do we get vacation time, and food? You got pizza and burgers around here?"
"Starsky!" exclaimed a disbelieving Hutch.
Pepper sat there for a moment as if stunned by his questions. Then once again she roared with laughter, tears streaking down her face.
"Oh David, don't ever change. I just love you to pieces."
Hutch was trying to pretend he didn't know the guy sitting next to him. Starsky was looking kind of stunned himself, just realizing to whom he was talking. His head went down to hide.
"David, look at me," Pepper said.
Starsky raised a red face, trying to look contrite.
"First of all, if you can't be yourself here, of all places, then none of us belong here. Every part of you is known to us, and we like you just fine as you are. Secondly, think of the most delicious pizza you ever had."
Starsky blushed, and then got very thoughtful thinking of cheese, and pepperoni, and onion, and more cheese, and.... And then he got this rapturous expression on his face, his eyes growing large.
"Wow. Hutch that was the most delicious thing I ever tasted. Try it; you've got to try it."
"Later Starsk, O.K."
Starsky was still a little lost in wonder as Hutch turned back to Pepper and asked, "What's first on the agenda?"
Pepper laid another cylinder on the table. "As you complete each case, this will be replaced with another, and another, and so on. Should you feel the need to rest and recoup, or just talk, remember this place and you will return. There is no quota, no time limit, nor any right or wrong resolution. We do not ask you to judge, condemn, or assume responsibility for the souls we ask you to aide. We only ask that you do your best to release them so we may help them on their way."
Pepper rose, ready to depart. "Oh, one other thing." She paused, waiting until she had their complete attention before proceeding. "There will be times one of you feels overwhelmed or weakened. When that happens you need only touch each other, even by look, to be renewed and strengthened."
Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances with lifted eyebrows—she was telling them something they already knew, had known since the day they met. Hah.
Pepper chuckled. "Just had to say it boys, before one of you asked. See you." And she was gone.
"O.K., partner, you ready?" Hutch asked.
"Let's do it Hutch." Starsky replied, picking up the cylinder then passing it to Hutch to share.
Instantly they were in total darkness, the only sound heard was a heart-wrenching sob that came from their right.
"That's a child, Hutch," said Starsky, his compassion and pain reflected in his voice. "We need light."
Amazingly, a small candlelight began flickering and they took in their surroundings. They were in a small, 5x5 earthen room fitted with only a small table, a few bags of stored food supplies and several blankets piled in a corner. The sobbing was coming from the blankets.
They slowly approached and gently lifted the blankets to reveal a young girl, maybe ten years old who cowered in fear as they lifted the blankets off her. This must be the Martha Louise Barnes whose life was detailed in the cylinder.
"Shhh. It's all right Martha," Hutch soothingly said, "We're here to help you."
"No, no. Please don't hurt me, please go away. My daddy will be here soon and he'll shoot you dead. Go away, go away."
The girl tried to disappear into the wall, clutching the blankets to her to hide once more, all the while getting more and more upset.
"It's O.K. sweetheart, we won't hurt you," said Starsky, seating himself close to her in her corner, but not touching. "We came to help you get out of here. Don't you want to get out of here and go home?"
She couldn't help but answer his quiet loving question, nodding her head. "Yeesss. But Daddy told me not to come out until he came back. He kept telling me over and over, telling me not to be afraid, to be brave and he'd come back for me, but he never came back."
Tears flowed again, and when Starsky took her into his arms she clung desperately to him, her fear and doubt communicating directly to his soul. He held her and rocked her until she drifted off in exhausted sleep.
Hutch settled beside them, his comforting arm wrapping around Starsky's shoulders. They both knew Martha could not move on until she was calm and could be convinced that her father was waiting for her, so they settled in to wait, recalling Martha's life story.
She had been born in 1861 and had died in the Apache Indian Wars in 1871 at her family's homestead between the Salt River and Camp McDowell, Arizona. Hers had been a hard life, a struggle to help her family survive, and she had died alone in great fear.
It seemed the hours had drifted by in only seconds before Martha was waking, withdrawing quickly to her corner when she saw them.
"It's all right Martha," Starsky said, with his warmest smile. "I'm Dave and this is Ken. We're friends of your father. He sent us back to help you reach him."
"But what about the Indians. We can't get out, they're all over, everywhere...yelling and screaming...riding round and round...shooting all the time...they won't go away...they frighten me." She was getting hysterical, her hands covering her ears trying to block out the sound, moaning softly. "They shot Daddy, I saw them...and they started to drag him off behind their horses. I saw them! Daddy can't come back. I have to stay until he comes back, he told me, he told me..."
"Martha, we know where your Daddy is, and we can take you to him but you have to be brave. We'll take your hand and show you, help you find him. We can do it together, you, Ken, and me. We can do it, sweetheart, if you want to try. Do you want to try?"
Starsky had moved to her side again, pulling her onto his chest, letting her tell her fears, getting them out. Slowly she subsided and pulled back looking at both of them.
"But I don't know where to go, only Daddy knew how to get to the Camp. It's far, far away. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, sweetheart, we know where it is, and you'll be safe there, you and your Daddy. Do you think you can make it?" Starsky asked.
"I think so. Will you come with me?" Martha asked in a little girl's lost and helpless way.
Hutch spoke up for the first time, having let Starsky work his magic to gain the girl's trust. "We will be with you every step of the way Martha, but you have to open the door. Can you do that for us?"
Martha looked fearfully at the door sagging on its leather hinges, shrinking back again, memory of what lay on the other side widening her eyes again in panic, shaking her head in denial. "I can't, they're out there."
"No, no sweetheart, they're not out there," Starsky said soothingly. "Do you hear them out there? Do you hear their voices, or their horses, or guns?"
"No."
"They have gone, Martha, and we can go meet your daddy now." Starsky rose to his feet bringing Martha up in his arms. "Your daddy needs you, needs to see that you are okay. Let's go tell him."
Martha whispered softly, "Daddy." She straightened in Starsky's arms and he set her down on the floor. Taking her hand in his, and smiling confidently at her, he stepped towards the door.
"Open the door Martha."
She reached tentatively, hesitantly for the sagging door and began to pull, then stopped. "I can't; it won't open."
"Yes it will, but you have to want it to," said Hutch. "You have to want to see your Daddy again Martha to make the door open so we can find him. It's like magic and only you can make it work, make it take you to your daddy. Try again Martha, please."
While Hutch was talking Martha looked straight into his eyes, and he could see her belief come alive, belief in what he was saying. She turned without hesitating and opened the door.
The white light beyond the door was momentarily blinding, but then Martha jumped for joy, dropped Starsky's hand and ran into the light—"Daddy!"
The two stood in wonder as they experienced the love, tears and warmth in the hug that Martha and her father exchanged, and when they heard the whispered "thank you" drift back to them from Jason Barnes they exchanged their own looks of completion.
"Well," said a slightly choked voice from beside Hutch, "that was easy. What's next?"