Lin P

   It arrived in the mail. A flat box, wrapped in plain brown paper and addressed to one David Starsky. It seemed innocent enough. How was Hutch to know the emotions that would spill out of it?

   "Starsk! The mailman left this for you outside your door." Yelled Ken Hutchinson as he placed the box on the coffee table and shrugged out of his black leather jacket.

   " 'kay. Be right there." Came the response from the bedroom. In another moment Starsky emerged tucking a shirt into his jeans. With a quick smile at Hutch he went to the kitchen counter and picked up a coffee mug. With a few quick gulps, he finished his cooling morning coffee.

   "Ready?" He asked as he headed for the door.

   "Aren't you going to open your package?"

   "Oh yeah." With a grin he retrieved the box off the table and read the top of it. "It's from my mother." He said with a little bewilderment. "Not my birthday. Wonder what she's doin' sending..."

   "Open it and find out." Hutch rolled his eyes.

   Starsky tore off the paper wrapping. Picking at the tape sealing the edges of the box he finally lifted its lid and reached in. He pulled out a small handwritten letter. His expression sobered as he read it. He slowly sat down on the couch and put the letter on the table. The box rested on his lap as he gazed down at it.

   Hutch watched, curious but silent.

   A hand finally went back into the box. Out came a neat pile of papers, big and small, yellowing with age, some folded, some paper clipped together. Starsky gazed down at them.

   "What is it?" Hutch asked quietly.

   "...uhhh...stuff my mom sent." Starsky replied in a whispered voice. "Stuff my dad had saved."

   Hutch crossed over to the couch and sat at the far end.

   "That's nice, Starsk." He said with a kind smile.

   "Yeah." Starsky still hadn't opened the papers up.

   "Why don't you look?" Hutch prodded gently.

   Fingers gently unfolded the first paper. A small smile crossed Starsky's face. After gazing at it a moment he passed the paper to his partner. Hutch looked at it. There was a crayon drawing of a police car, it's cherry light on top flaming with bold red strikes upwards. Inside the car a round, crudely drawn face of a policeman smiled out and waved four fingers. At the bottom of the picture was a child's printing. 'My Dad The Policeman'.

   "Ma said she forgot about this package." Starsky explained, his voice soft with emotion. "Dad kept it at work and when he was killed they sent it home to her. But she hadn't seen it in years. She just found it and sent it to me."

   Hutch grinned at him. "That's nice, Starsk. It's nice to get."

   "Uh huh."

   A few more drawings done by a young Starsky in bright colors were looked at, every one bringing small chuckles from both of them.

   After lifting another picture off the pile, Starsky's hand stopped in mid-air at what he saw below it. Hutch leaned over to look at what had so caught his partner off guard. On top of the dwindling pile was a small black and white photo. A tall man stood beside a small boy by a picket fence. The man was in baggy trousers and a light shirt rolled up to his elbows. One hand hung at his side holding a baseball glove. The other arm was around the boy, pulling him in close, almost tripping him. They both beamed gleefully at the camera.

   Hutch's heart swelled at the smiles on the two in the photo. Wide, white grins that laughed with life. So similar to each other.

   A drop fell on it.

   Hutch looked at Starsky as his friend quickly wiped the tear off with his sleeve. He put a hand on Starsky's arm.

   "Hey." He said. "Brings back memories, huh?"

   Starsky nodded quickly when another tear spilled out. Clearing his throat and closing his eyes Starsky fought and gained control over his emotions.

   "Yeah..." He said in a shaky voice. He raised the photo up and smiled at it. "I remember this day...I remember."

   "What do you remember?" Hutch asked softly.

   "Oh...he took me to the park for a while. We played catch."

   "You did that a lot with him, didn't you?"

   Starsky nodded. Then his tone was hushed with love and amazement. "I was a lucky kid."

   Hutch could only nod his agreement too when he saw more tears suddenly well up and roll down Starsky's cheeks.

   "Starsky...what?"

   Starsky turned to him. His eyes brilliant with sadness, he tried to smile again but failed miserably.

   "We practiced for a long time, till we were sweaty and tired. On the way home he picked me up and threw me over his shoulders...you know... upside down. We were laughing." He paused to steady his voice. "When we got home Ma wanted to take a picture with her new camera. Finish the roll. We stood there and giggled while she fiddled with it."

   Hutch never took his eyes from Starsky's as he waited silently for more.

   "It's just...that was it. He died a week later."

   Starsky looked down the picture again and Hutch watched as he softly caressed his thumb over the man's face.

   "I loved my dad." He whispered.

   "He loved you. I can see it in this picture...Hey."

   Starsky looked up.

   "Your father's still in you." Hutch said. "When you smile...there he is."

   Hutch reached over and ruffled the dark hair. "He was a lucky dad."

THE END