Embracing Insanity

By M. Willow

Strange thing about insanity is that sometimes it’s down-right comforting.  Starsky had come to that conclusion over the last year.  He’d been sane when Terry died.  He’d processed her death on an intellectual level, believing that his angel had gone on before him, but that one day they would be reunited.  He even pictured it in his head—his dad and Terry waiting’ for him on the other side.  Oh, sure, there had been the emotional Starsky too.  The one who felt cheated, the one who sat on the floor with his best friend crying.  But soon the mourning period ended and everything went back to normal.  He’d even fallen in love again, or so he told himself. 

But then a day came when the grief struck him.  It had drug him down into a hole and stumped on him.  It had had the last laugh.  The world had expected him to go on--to live till he stopped.  To have a life.  There was only one problem--life was Terry as far as Starsky was concerned.  So one year after her death Starsky found a way to cope:  He’d started lying to himself.  He’d started lying to Hutch.  Hutch thought he was okay.  But he wasn’t. 

Starsky stared at the clock on his bedside table.  2:00 Am. The telephone had awakened him about an hour ago.  He’d been sleeping soundly too which wasn’t something he was used to doing.  Most of the time he’d be up all night, pacing the floor, crying sometimes.  Sometimes he’d bring a girl back to numb the pain, but that had stopped a few months ago.  Neither his heart, nor his body was really into it.  He just wanted Terry.

Terry used to call him at night.  She had radar that let her know when he was having trouble sleeping and would call and talk till they both had fallen asleep, phone still clutched in their hands.  But that had been before the bullet had taken her away from him. 

Starsky crawled out of bed.  He was somewhat hungry and he wasn’t likely to fall asleep again.  Might as well make himself something to eat.  That way old Hutch didn’t have to know just how bad off he was.  Every since Terry died eating had become a chore, almost like filling your gas tank with gasoline.  It had to be done or the car wouldn’t run.  He had to eat or he wouldn’t run.  If Hutch realized he was losing weight, he’d go into mother hen mode and Starsky would never hear the end of it.  The blond was smart too.  He’d put the pieces together and figure out that Starsky was going a little loopy in the head and worry himself to death over it.  One death was enough.

Starsky sat on the side of the bed and wondered when it had all started.  Was it the time he forgot that Terry was dead and tried to call her?  Was it the time he’d seen a woman on the street who looked just like her?  Either way, Starsky was in serious trouble because less than an hour ago he had lain in bed, listening to the telephone ringing, imagining it was Terry on the other end. 

What was it that the old man said…embracing insanity. That was it.  Embracing insanity.  That’s what he’d been doing.  Starsky recalled the story the old man told about a widow lady who’d taken to ironing her husband’s shirts, and sitting a place for him at the dinner table.   “That poor woman is embracing insanity,” the old man had said.  Starsky had only been eight at the time and had wanted to know what he meant.  The old man told him that if he lived long enough he’d find out.  Now he knew.  Insanity could feel good.  He knew first hand.  It was easy to pretend that Terry was walking’ down the street the other day.  Or that Terry had called him an hour ago.  He was in serious trouble.

Starsky made his way to the kitchen. Once there, he made a sandwich befitting Dagwood Bumpstead.  It tasted like cardboard, but he ate it anyway, washing it down with a beer.  Then he headed back to the bedroom and sat staring at the telephone.  It started ringing almost immediately. 

Now if he had been a sane man, he’d figure it was a wrong number. Hutch wouldn’t call because he knew how long it took Starsky to fall asleep lately.  Dobey wouldn’t call because Hutch had told him to call him instead.  His Ma wouldn’t call because she went to bed with the chickens.  That left Nicky or a wrong number.  Starsky was betting it was Terry because it felt good to believe it.  He was embracing insanity big time.  He was certifiable.

Ring

Ring

Ring

And he sat there till he lost track of how many times it rung.   He listened like it was a symphony.  He imagined the conversation they would have:   He’d tell her how much he loved her. They would plan their wedding.  They would make up baby names for their future children. Insanity would allow them to grow old together. And he wanted that more than anything. 

Ring

Ring

Ring

 Starsky pictured his son.  The child’s name would be Kenneth.  He pictured his partner playing with his namesake.   He cried out, anger ripping through him at all he lost.  Then insanity took hold of him, dragging him back, and Terry was alive and on the other side of the telephone. 

The phone stopped ringing.

Dead silence followed and he sat there staring at the thing, willing it to ring again.  And when it didn’t he clutched the covers to his chest and lay there reliving Terry’s final moments.   He said goodbye to her, listening to her painful gasps.  He closed his eyes against the memory, hoping to shut them out, but nothing could do that.  He was only half a man and everyday his heart was cut away.  How could he continue to live in such pain? Is insanity not a better choice?   

Starsky cried out, “Help me.  Help me.”  And a hand touched his face and he opened his eyes to see the face of an angel.  The angel sat down next to him, wiped the tears from his face.  Hutch.

“Huggy said he couldn’t reach you.  I got scared and came over.”  Hutch’s face looked bone white, the eyes mirroring the fear in Starsky’s heart. 

“M’ scared, Hutch.  I ain’t getting better.  I ain’t feeling better.  I miss Terry more than anything.  I think I’m losin’ my mind.”

Hutch shook his head.  “No you’re not, ‘cause I’m here and I’m not going to let that happen.  I’m going to help you with everything I have.”

Starsky saw determination in the blue eyes.  Hutch wouldn’t let him fall.  Wouldn’t let him lose his mind.  The blond would fight for him and never stop fighting. “I ain’t got the strength, Hutch,” he said slowly. “I don’t know how to go on.  I don’t know how to get back to sanity.”

“Then let me guide you.”

Starsky met his partner’s eyes.  No words were spoken. None were needed. He was safe, yet only moments ago he’d been afraid.  He had embraced insanity and hadn’t known how to come back.  But now his partner was there to guide him home.  

Fin

This story was inspired by my husband, Aka MWH.    I’ll miss you dearly.