Fear of falling
“Funny how the dope makes you mind stand still and rush around in circles at the same time. Here I am on top of a fence and Starsky's there, holding out his arms; smiling, laughing; waiting to catch me. This time he's going to get me down from the damn thing. Not like the other wall….not like back then…
Not for the first time; Ken Hutchinson wondered if he had really done the right thing in enrolling in the Bay City Police Academy . The work wasn't hard – he'd done enough pre-law for that to be a breeze. But the old fear of failure was there; haunting him.
He was a misfit here too. A mid-westerner from a family wealthy enough for him to have little in common with this mixture of blue collar kids hoping to do better than their Lockheed line working fathers. He looked around the class room; there was one other man who didn't seem to fit in. The rumor machine ran strong about him; and even Ken had heard the echoes when he walked past the tables in the canteen where there never seemed to be an empty chair for him. Some said the guy had a background with the mob and that he was really being trained to go back deep undercover. Other versions had him as a be-medalled vet of the war most of them had prayed they wouldn't have to take part in. Another story went that he was here because a cop with influence got him through the entry procedure. Whatever the story; Ken had never found an opportunity to get close enough to find out the truth.
The speaker's words filtered through to Ken's brain. “Monday. Six o'clock sharp at the assault course gentleman. The last man there will take the course twice.” Chairs scraped the lino as the twenty four cadets stood up and snapped a salute to the instructor as he left the room. They went off to their weekend activities; most of them going home to families and girlfriends and maybe even wives; Ken would stay in the dorms alone.
The wall loomed above him bringing back memories of kneeling in front of his father's desk waiting for the verdict. The old man expected results and Ken spent a miserable ten minutes once a month while his father read his report card. He knew what was coming…he hated math and try as he might, he couldn't rise to his father's standards.
“A ‘c', Kenneth. A ‘c' is not good enough. Come with me.”
Then came the stinging pain of the switch on his bare ass while his mother and sister tried to avert their embarrassed gaze. They knew they had to watch. The old man had standards; one was that Ken's punishment should not just be painful but humiliating too “I'd take you out on the front lawn if I thought it would do any good”; His mother's careful make-up didn't always disguise the result of her trying to protect her son. His sister's soft whimpering behind her bedroom door, punctuated by the ‘whup' of the slipper, only proved that it was best to say nothing.
Failing here wouldn't bring physical pain but Ken had been conditioned over the years to avoid the possibility of humiliation.
He stared up at the obstacle and tried to figure out how fast he would have to run to have a hope of getting high enough to succeed.
“It's easier than it looks.” The voice came from behind him; floating on a trail of sweet-smelling cigarette smoke. He turned. The other man stared at him and he put his head to one side as if trying to figure Ken out. He finished his smoke and ground it out carefully on the lid of a tin that he slipped into his pocket.
“Wouldn't want anyone to find a roach out here; would we?” he said with a lop-sided grin. He walked over..”
“Ken Hutchinson.” He held out his hand.
“Your momma call you Kenny?”
“No.”
“That's a relief; Hutchinson 's too much of a mouthful – can't shout it out in a hurry when the chips are down and the enemy has you in the crosshairs. I'll call you Hutch. A few of my friends call me Dave; my mom gets away with Davey but you…” he fixed Ken with a deep blue stare, “you can do what everyone else does and call me Starsky. Unless one day I let you call me Starsk.”
Starsky led him away from the wall. “So what's the problem?”
“It's high. That's the problem.”
“Yeah it is, isn't it?”
They spent the weekend practising. Starsky taught Ken how to launch himself and use his momentum to get to the top. Each failed attempt was rewarded with encouragement… “hey you got a bit higher that time”. And then it happened. Starsky was astride the wall and Ken arrived to sit next to him.”
“Wow; I did it!”
“Yeah, you did it. Now we have to deal with other problem.”
“What other problem?”
“Getting off here without looking down….I'm scared of heights!”
“Me too.” They sat on their perch and laughed. Finally Starsky closed his eyes and held his nose like a kid about to jump off a high board.
“Geronimoooooooooooo”
He did it. He passed the assault course and he passed the training. Starsky became his best and closest friend; his partner. They went through thick and thin together trusting one another with their lives and most of their demons too. But Hutch had never been able to share his fear of humiliation and its roots with his friend who had only known his father for the first thirteen years of his life and remembered all of them with fondness and sadness.
As I roll off this fence into Starsky's waiting arms, I know it is time to explain my fear of failure. Now I'll let him hug me and keep me safe from my fear of falling
on to The lockers have ears