Shadows

By M. Willow

Chapter Six

The storm raged over Lamb House as Hutch climbed in bed late that night.

He had avoided Starsky most of the day by postponing the treasure hunt for the next day claming he needed to make business arrangements for his aunt’s estate.  Hutch needed to talk to Starsky about Sandra’s pregnancy, but couldn’t seem to broach the subject.  How could his parents believe something like that and not even mention it to him?  If they had, he could have told them that they hadn’t done anything except make out, and even that was questionable since they had both been barely out of grade school, and really didn’t know what they were doing.

It was the story of his life—his parents beloved what they wanted about him and Starsky trusted him completely.  The brunet never even bothered to ask him about Sandra.  He just knew Hutch would never lie to him.  But he had, not in words, but by omission and that was the same as a lie.  It was just a matter of time when Starsky would meet his dysfunctional parents.  Just a matter of time when he’d learn the truth and Hutch would see the pain in the dark blue eyes.  When that happened their partnership would be over and he’d have no one.  Kelly was the only relative he really cared about, but she had her own life.

Hutch shuddered against the cold, as the wind and rain battered the window.  This was an especially bad storm with flashes of lightening, and thundered that made him jumpy.  He should make a fire, he thought.  It would definitely chase the chill away.  Maybe even make him feel good enough to forget one of the worst days in his life.  He still couldn’t figure out what happened in the east wing.  Had he really seen a shadow, or had his imagination been playing tricks on him?  Either way he was in trouble.  He was an emotional wreck, hanging on by a thread, hoping against hope that everything went well, and that he’d come out in the end sanity and friendship in tact.  But he knew better.  It was going to hit the fan and take everything he cared about with it.

Hutch started when a brief flash of lightening illuminated the room.  It seemed like there was always a storm whenever he visited Lamb House.  But now the storm made him uncomfortable, like something was about to happen, like the steady pounding at the window wasn’t really the wind, but something trying to get in. 

The room was pitch black.  Hutch focused his attention on the corner by the window.  He was able to make out a small table with a lamp.  The table held a large vase with flowers.  It was Mrs. Clydestones attempt to put cheer into an otherwise dreary room, but in the dark it resembled a woman in a long white dress, her hands clasped in front of her.  He was reminded of how things looked different in the dark.  As a child he’d cry out when suddenly a toy would transform itself into a monster.  His father would charge into the room and demand that he stop crying.  He would turn on the light and shout at him for being such a baby.  He would tell him that he needed to stand up and be a man.  But he was hardly that at the age of seven.  At that age he just wanted his mother to hold him.  At that age he wanted his father to tell him everything was going to be okay, that he would chase away the monsters.  Instead, he spent the night desperately trying to silence the sobs as he cried himself to sleep. Even now he felt the tears threatening to come, the house making him remember the past and the pain he had spent years trying to forget.  He had thought he had succeeded, but now that he was back, they were tearing him apart. 

How could he deal with seeing his parents again?  He’d had a childhood that left wounds.  They were wounds you couldn’t see.  Not the kind that came from parents who abused you physically, but deep emotional wounds.  Some would say he had a privileged childhood, that he was lucky to be born a Hutchinson.  But what he really wanted was love.  He wanted his parents to love him unconditionally.  And that they had denied him.  Almost from birth he’d been a disappointment to them.

A sudden movement caught Hutch’s eye.  It had happened just as the lightening flashed.  He was sure he had seen something move in the corner near the window.   Hutch tensed, his heart beating a frantic rhythm.  He thought of calling Starsky, but thought better of it when he realized Starsky would never return to Bay City if he believed he was losing his mind.  He closed his eyes.  It had to have been his imagination, the stress of coming here having a bad affect.  All he had to do was turn on the light and he would see that there was nothing there.  

He opened his eyes and reached for the lamp, his eyes never leaving the corner.   And then another flash of lightening revealed what was in that corner.  Hutch couldn’t stop screaming.

 TBC