Starsky and Hutch

 Starsky and Hutch

   William was in the corner of the yard trying to fix a puncture on his bike wheel. Anyone who has repaired a puncture knows that it is not at all easy, especially the process of removing the inner tube out, but William did it very well. While he was looking for the hole in the inner tube, his sister Jessica approached him, she was crying in a panic because she accidentally broke the fish tank while doing fitness in a YourTube session. She simply lost the balance of her body and with a quick movement to regain her body balance properly, her elbow hit the fishbowl enough to knock it to the ground. It wasn't a big tank, but ...

The fish tank was very special to his father, Paul, sometimes it seemed that Paul loved Starsky and Hutch more than his own children and wife. Starsky was a red fish that replaced the old Veronica who sadly died three months ago, Hutch was a blue fish that Olivia, her mother, had demanded of Paul, she no longer wanted lonely fish. At first, Paul didn't like the idea of having two fishes, he saw it as a threat because maybe they would not be friends. After all, Paul was more than happy with Starsky and Hutch.

"Did you put Starsky and Hutch in water ?!" William said, Jessica opened her mouth in a surprised expression, "Damn it!" shouted William and ran into the living room, easily found Starsky and Hutch, they weren't moving at all, anyway, William put them in the sink and turned on the tap, it was too late, Starsky and Hutch were dead. "now what?" William exclaimed indignantly and knowing that Jessica had had problems with her parents recently.

Jessica was 17 years old, she was hiding her boyfriend, Tom, from her parents, and that was creating constant problems for her. Jessica sometimes had to hide Tom in her room or even she would occasionally go to Tom's house in the middle of the night. William knows this and is very upset with her. Her parents knew something was happening to Jessica, well ... in fact, they already know it intuitively. But the point isn't that, William thought, the point is that Jessica should tell that has a boyfriend to them even though they sure wouldn't like it. And now, if they find out that Jessica is responsible for the deaths of Starsky and Hutch, surely it will be a bad mood at home for a long time.

William thought very fast, although he was upset with Jessica, he did not want to live in constant arguments at home, that made him sick, so William proposed a deal to Jessica, if she promised to tell her parents the truth about her boyfriend Tom, then William would say that he had broken the fish tank. After hearing Wiliam's proposal, Jessica was speechless, "Hurry to think, they'll come soon," William said, then Jessica said that she broke up with Tom. She burst into tears.

William knew his sister's crocodile tears, he didn't even believe at all about her break-up with Tom. "Okay, crystal clear, we'll tell the truth, no lies," said William, "wait!" Jessica replied, then she told him the real truth. That made everything worse than worse, now it was William's mouth that fell open. They weren't crocodile tears, she was really scared. At that moment, her parents' car was arriving.

William gave up, he was not for alibis, he was too overwhelmed. Olivia entered before Paul. When Olivia saw William and Jessica's faces, she deduced that something was wrong and said, "What's going on here?"

Then it was an intense silent dialogue, Olivia and Paul had seen the crime scene, even the corpses of Starsky and Hutch in the sink, but they knew it was not the worst, their silence hid something worse. Olivia had a hunch and then she looked at Paul, Paul read her eyes correctly, then they both slowly took a step back.

Finally, it was Olivia who spoke looking at Jessica: "oh dear, you are pregnant."

 Antoni Font Bardolet 11/08/2020, Aberdeen.

The Race

The Race

 

    In the sunburnt sprawl of the Arizona desert, two friends—Paul and Eric—decided to settle an old debate the only way they knew how: with a race. It wasn’t an ordinary race, mind you. It was the race, complete with a makeshift track stretching a hundred blistering miles, a desert party planned at the finish line, and a crowd hungry for thrill, tacos, and tequila.

Helping them organize this showdown was Charlotte, a quiet observer of life and people—a wise woman with eyes that always seemed to sparkle with a secret. What neither Paul nor Eric knew was that Charlotte had a trick tucked neatly into her leather satchel and a lesson waiting at mile 80.

Paul was the road’s golden boy—sharp reflexes, a polished car that gleamed like a trophy, and a mind that approached every turn like a strategic move in a grandmaster’s game. Nothing escaped his attention; every detail was inspected, every risk assessed. Truth be told, the race only came to life thanks to Paul’s drive, his knack for planning, and the long list of connections he could summon with a single call.

Eric was his opposite. A charming mess of a man whose car looked like it had survived five apocalypses. He drove with heart, not precision. His ride was older than most jukeboxes and made a sound like a coffee grinder falling down a flight of stairs. But Charlotte had a soft spot for underdogs.

The race began at 6 p.m., just as the desert sky turned tangerine. As expected, Paul shot ahead, his engine humming like a symphony. Eric lagged behind, coughing up dust and shaking his dashboard like it owed him money. The crowd roared, food vendors grilled with fury, and gamblers placed wild bets. Spirits were high, and so was the music.

But Charlotte wasn’t at the party. She was already waiting at mile 80, where she casually scattered a handful of tri-pronged nails across the dirt road. A small act of sabotage, yes—but one meant to level a very uneven playing field.

Paul was the first to reach the trap. His tire hissed, then slumped. He slammed the brakes and stared in disbelief. He had never changed a tire in his life. He popped the trunk, searched for the jack, fumbled with the sleek, modern hubcap that refused to budge. The sun dipped lower. Paul’s frustration climbed higher.

Then, from behind, came the coughing, sputtering approach of Eric’s rusty chariot.

Just as Charlotte planned, Eric hit the nails too—pop. But unlike Paul, he didn’t panic. He’d changed more tires than he could count—on the road, in the rain, once even on a hill. His old car was simple. No hubcaps, no nonsense. Just six bolts and a wrench.

While Paul wrestled with his over-engineered car and cursed at the instruction manual, Eric calmly changed his tire with practiced ease. He glanced over, gave Paul a nod, and even offered him his tools. Paul looked up, a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration on his face—as if to say, you got me, well played. With that, Eric overtook him and drove off toward a well-earned victory.

Eric won the race—by a mile and a metaphor. The crowd went wild, Eric laughed until he coughed, and Paul... well, Paul stood beside his car with a shattered hubcap and a bruised ego.

At the post-race party, no one talked much about who won. People were too busy dancing, drinking, and reliving the chaos with laughter and half-true retellings. But a few curious minds still asked Charlotte what really happened out there.

She just smiled, sipped her drink, and said, “Let’s just say experience comes in different shapes.”

Somewhere near the stage, Paul stood with a drink in hand, watching Eric tell the story for the fifth time—grinning, animated, surrounded by strangers who suddenly knew his name. Paul chuckled to himself, shook his head, and muttered, maybe it’s time I learned to change a tire. Then he raised his glass to no one in particular and let the music take it from there.

 Toni Font Bardolet 22/08/2019, Aberdeen.

Charlie's Fate

Charlie's Fate

   The four of them sat in a clearing on the mountain: Oliver, Amelia, James, and Charlie. James and Oliver were deep in a nonsensical debate about the gender of angels. Amelia, thoroughly bored, gazed off into the distance, while Charlie remained his usual quiet, contemplative self. Without warning, the serene sky turned ominous, dark clouds rolling in rapidly. A cold wind swept through the clearing, chilling them to the bone. The realization dawned on them all at once: they were in serious trouble. The car was at least an hour’s walk away.

As the first icy drops of rain began to fall, the four of them broke into a run. A bolt of lightning struck alarmingly close, its crack deafening. Amelia and James were terrified, running as fast as they could, while Oliver led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure they were following. Charlie trailed behind, calm as ever, accepting whatever fate awaited them.

Another lightning strike hit even closer, its brightness searing. Fueled by fear, they pushed harder toward the car. Oliver arrived first, panting as he turned to wait. Amelia and James arrived shortly after, drenched and trembling. “Where’s Charlie?” Oliver asked, panic creeping into his voice. Amelia and James exchanged uneasy looks before Amelia admitted, “I don’t know. We thought he was right behind us.”

“You saw him after the second lightning strike, right?” Oliver pressed. James shook his head. “No, we just ran. That last strike was way too close. Do you think… do you think the lightning hit him?”

“We have to check,” Oliver said firmly. Despite their fear, they turned back into the storm. The rain had softened, but the air was still electric. They found Charlie lying on the ground, one side of his jeans singed. But to their amazement, Charlie was alive — and smiling.

“Oh my God, Charlie!” Oliver exclaimed, rushing over. “Are you okay?”

Charlie chuckled, his voice tinged with amusement. “I’m fine. Looks like God decided to point his fiery finger at me. Guess I’m enlightened now.”

“This is no time for jokes,” Oliver said sharply. “Can you stand?”

Charlie nodded, and with Amelia and James’ help, he got to his feet. His steps were unsteady but functional. Still grinning, Charlie quipped, “Guys, I’m fully charged now. How do you like my new hairstyle? Got that curly lightning look, huh? Hand me a light bulb, and I’ll show you my powers. I’m a walking energy plant!”

“Enough,” Oliver interrupted. “Just give me the car keys. You’re in no condition to drive.”

Charlie’s grin widened. “Who needs keys? I’ll just touch the car and start it myself.”

Amelia groaned, clearly annoyed. “Stop messing around. You need a hospital, not a spotlight.”

For the rest of the trek to the car, Charlie stayed quiet, though his occasional smirk hinted at lingering amusement. Once they arrived, he reached into the burned pocket of his jeans and retrieved the keys. But they were ruined, melted by the lightning’s heat.

“Great,” James muttered. “Now what?”

Charlie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Now, I show you what I can really do. No more talk — just action.”

Placing his hand on the car door, Charlie grinned as the lock clicked open. He climbed into the driver’s seat, put both hands on the steering wheel, and, to everyone’s astonishment, the engine roared to life.

Oliver, Amelia, and James stood in stunned silence before Charlie leaned out the window and said, “Get in, folks. It’s time to put my new powers to the test. Let’s get this party started.”

Antoni Font, Aberdeen, 06/08/2019