Mr. Jared sat there, tapping on my window. I stared at him but tried really hard to pretend like I was ignoring him. I was still mad. Yesterday, he took Hutch away from me. He stole him from me, along with my will to live. The only thing I did all night was pace through my room, back and forth looking at the backboard. “Hutch” it read. I couldn’t ignore it; his name was right next to mine directly above our beds. My body slowed. My mind ached. It hurt all night passing back and forth just looking at his name board in our bedroom.
“Starsky!” Jared was yelling at me, trying to get my attention.
I continued to ignore him. I wish he could have seen the anger in my face, but it’s kind of hard. The window is at a weird curved angle and makes everything look disproportionate. It made Jared’s face look chubbier than it actually is.
“Fine,” he exclaimed, “I guess I’ll talk to you after baseball practice if you change your mind.”
I turned the other direction and felt him stomp away.
Wandering back and forth, I can’t help but think of how he stole my best friend. The only one I could ever communicate with. The only one I could ever actually connect to. I pause every few moments, looking through the window, wishing I could be with Hutch. I miss him. He was the only one who knew my darkest secrets. It’s unfortunate how fast depression sets in when someone so close to your heart is taken from you. I have all these memories of times we chased each other and other times we spent sharing meals. Sometimes I wish what they say about a three second memory were true.
I turn around and look up at the backboards above our beds again. “Starsky” and “Hutch.” If only times could be the way they were. He had such a wonderful, bright personality; like chain mail made of gold that glimmers different shades of ginger and orange in the light. The kind that knights used to wear for protection in the medieval times; at least according to the book sitting on the desk next to the window. His individuality glistened in the sunshine, creating an orange and yellow glimpse making everyone happy; while at the same time shielding his emotions. He was a conservative who, just like me, loved Mr. Jared up until the incident. We hardly ever showed our appreciation for Jared even though he took care of us through thick and thin. He was always there when we were sick and definitely made sure we were always smiling. And he was always making us food.
Then it happened. I woke up one morning and there was Hutch, upside down on his back; eyes wide open, mouth shaped wide like an O. His chest wasn’t moving. Jared comes to the window and peers inside. I scatter and hide in the bushes next to our back boards. I close my eyes and start praying for help. Next thing I know, I open my eyes and Hutch is gone. I hear the toilet flush in the next room. I start crying, but no one notices… or cares. I swiftly scramble and flail around my room looking for Mr. Jared; I can’t see anything. I’m looking out the window, but his plump, chunky face is no where to be found. Jared stole my best friend.
That night I finally fell asleep under Hutch’s name board next to his bed. It was a rough night. Everything was quiet and it was so dark and murky that not even the moonlight that came through my window cast a shadow. It got fuzzy once it hit water. I woke up every five minutes, thinking I’m hearing Hutch’s echoing voice. Our kingdom just isn’t the same without him. It’s too large of a room, and now there’s always food left over.
All of a sudden, it gets sunny, like someone switched on a light. I feel Jared’s heavy footsteps come running up to the window.
“Look what I’ve got,” he said as he held up a bag full of water with someone inside.
I silently glared at Mr. Jared, then at the guy in the bag. He was orange and white. No Hutch.
“Starsky,” he said with a grin plastered between his lips, “meet Hutch Two.”
He lifts the bag over my head and dumps it into my room.
“No one can replace Hutch,” I try to scream at him. But it only comes mouthed out as a bunch of O’s.
Jared continues to smile and stares at us for a moment. This new guy is scampering around, being entirely too restless and petrified. All I can do is glare at Jared. I thought about how much I hated him for a moment. Then I turned away slowly, glanced at ‘Hutch Two,’ who was still scurrying in circles, and proceeded to swim slowly into the darkness of my castle to fall asleep.