by: Sarah Stodola

NOTES – Disclaimer – the song is by Brad Paisley. The story happens between the two Dukes movies. It does reference some ideas from “Lady Daisy”, but doesn’t happen in any alternate universe (I actually meant that fic to be true to the series).

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HE DIDN’T HAVE TO BE

Looking back, all I can say about
All the things he did for me
Is I hope I’m at least half the dad
That he didn’t have to be

*****************

He didn’t have to be my father.

I’d never met him before the night my parents died. I’d heard about my uncle and aunt who lived out in the Georgia countryside, but I’d never traveled outside of my suburban home in Alabama. But the night our car crashed, the night my world flew apart into a million dizzy, terrifying pieces, he came all that way to put them back together again.

I was only four at the time; scared, yelling for my mom and dad. Somehow, in my young heart, I knew that they were gone, since they wouldn’t answer me, but I refused to believe it. I later found out that the car had been halfway through an intersection when another car came blazing out of a side road without stopping like it should have, going something like fifty miles an hour over the speed limit. It had struck our car, both vehicles spinning and crashing into other objects. Our car had hit a fire hydrant, then a fence, and after rolling several times, had come to a crumpled halt upside down. I’d been in the back seat, and out of some instinct I had dived for the floor, seat belt and all, when I’d seen the lights coming at us. I was pinned there, in a tiny space just big enough for my body, hoarse from screaming and crying, when help showed up.

I vaguely remember lights, flashing red and blue and orange in the night, and the shouts of men as they cut the car apart to get to me. They never let me see my parents, and now I’m glad they didn’t; I can only imagine the nightmares the sight might have left me with. They took me to the police station, I think, after treating the minor glass cuts I had and checking me over to make sure I wasn’t badly hurt. I know I didn’t stop crying almost the whole time.

Then he came, a few hours later. He’d caught the quickest flight down that he could, and came running into the room out of breath but uncaring for his own well-being. When I first saw him, I just had to uncurl from my corner to look. He was dressed in blue overalls with dirt still on them, and a denim shirt underneath. His hair was mussed under his brown fedora, and his eyes grieving, yet there was something about his face, the smile lines, I guess, that made me think of Santa Claus even though his hair and beard only had a little gray in them. After talking briefly to the man at the desk, he came over to me. Kneeling down beside my chair, he slowly smiled and reached out one rough- callused finger to wipe the tears off of my cheeks. I’d stopped crying now, fascinated by this man.

“Hello, Luke,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “I’m your Uncle Jesse. You’re gonna come live with me. I know that I can’t take your parents’ place, but I’ll do the best I can if you’ll let me.”

He took me with him the very next day, on a plane flight to Georgia. I found that I’d be living on a farm, alone with him since his wife had died recently. Somehow the fact that we’d both lost loved ones brought us even closer together. And in a very short time, he *had* taken the place of my parents. All the love I’d had for my mama and dad, I turned toward him. And vice versa. I quickly learned to love the country farm life, and it’s been part of me ever since.

He didn’t have to be anyone else’s father either. Yet he chose to be.

It was six months later, just after I’d turned five, that he left me with a neighbor for the day, and came back with a little blond boy, about two and a half years younger than me. He’d just been orphaned, like I had a few months earlier. I’d been jealous at first, angry that I wouldn’t have Uncle Jesse’s undivided attention. I tried to ignore my younger cousin Bo, to pretend he didn’t exist. He was annoying; he’d take my toy cars and lose them, and cry all the time at night. I was trying to forget, I think, how much crying of my own I had done when my parents died. I was feeling like the tough, strong, proud one. And he was just a baby.

Oh, how things changed. I’m not even sure when they did, exactly. All I know is that sometimes, I started playing with him, letting him follow me around when I did my chores, and one day when I was six, I suddenly realized that I really cared about him, loved him. From that moment on, he was my brother and best friend. We’ve done everything together since; the first time we’d really been separated in our lives was these past few years. It was hard, leaving him behind and starting a life of my own. He says it was for him, too. Now we’re back together again, and I don’t think I ever want to leave this farm and my family again.

Bo wasn’t the only one. When I was ten years old, and he just eight, a third cousin came to live with us. A girl, from the city, (somehow I’d managed to forget that that had been my origins as well, and I looked down on her for it), and from a rich family, no less! Pretty little brunette Daisy Mae was a high- born young lady, unaccustomed to even getting her hands dirty, and had never worn jeans or gone fishing in her life. Bo and I both turned our backs on her, to a point, for a while after she came. As she grew to be more of a tomboy, Bo actually befriended her, and for a while I felt betrayed, like he was deserting me. But, later I finally decided that my pride could take a back seat, and gave in to being her friend as well. I discovered then that she could be a nice, fun person after all, and I was the one who planned her escape from her aunt’s manor when she’d been taken away from the farm by social services.

But, that’s all another story. Daisy lived with us from then on, again until we parted ways a few years ago. As a young lady, she’d often get mad at me and Bo for being so protective, yet there was always a lot of love between us. She never did completely lose that gracious, gentle streak, but she was always tough, too, brave and sassy and fun to be around.

I remember how Uncle Jesse would just sit back in a corner chair sometimes and watch us playing a game or something, with that soft little smile of his. I know he loved us. And we loved him, with all we had. All three of us would do about anything to please him, at least at a young age and later when we were adults, and we usually tried to keep some of our escapades, the ones that really were our fault, secret from him. Not just because we’d get punished sometimes, but also because it hurt us inside to see him so disappointed in us. For all three of us, he was our daddy, even though I in particular as a teenager gave him more than my share of grief and white hair.

He didn’t have to spend all that time and worry teaching us right from wrong. But it is perhaps thanks to his stubbornness that I’m still alive.

He could have let us grow up without check, but where would we have ended up? He taught us by the rules of the Bible, and by hand if he had to. He believed in the “spare the rod, spoil the child” bit, that was for sure. We fought him so hard from time to time, and I know that sometimes he would almost give up hope. But he never did, and for that I’m grateful now, though at the time I often thought it was unfair. Like the time I cheated on a test at school when I was twelve. He found out, and I got the whipping of my life. I sure didn’t appreciate it at the time, but I never cheated from then on. Or when I would constantly take off with the pickup without a license, or get involved with the wrong crowd and mess up somebody’s property. I was a real wild kid, from the year I hit puberty to the time I got so mad at his “overbearing” ways and ran away from home when I was fifteen.

It hadn’t been the first time I’d tried to run away… but it was the last. It was only two days after I’d taken off when he found me, somehow (I still don’t know how) tracing my tracks all the way to Atlanta. I was sure that I’d be punished then, and spat something not-too-nice about that, but Uncle Jesse didn’t do a thing or say a word. On the drive home, he just stared straight ahead. It was then that I got the first inkling that my guardian could be hurt. The next time I got the urge to yell back when I was scolded, I instead found myself crying and apologizing for all the hurtful things I’d ever said or done. I saw tears in his eyes that day, but I don’t think they were ones of sadness. It reminded me of the story of the prodigal son, when the father forgave and welcomed his boy back home, and from that day on, I fiercely refused to leave his camp again. He confided to me a few years back that that was when he stopped worrying about me ending up a real criminal, or even dead. I laughed a little when he said it, but later, thinking about it, I knew that he’d been right to worry. That kind of scared me, when I realized it.

Now, Bo… he wasn’t near as headstrong, as much trouble as I was, but he had his own set of problems. I only heard him talk back to Uncle Jesse a couple of times, and the only time he ran away, a rather childish try at ten, he was back before dinnertime. The trouble he got into was of a different sort, usually caused by his being so impressionable by others. For instance, the time in fifth grade that he was convinced by some of his school buddies to skip class to go swimming. Uncle Jesse found out, of course, and though Bo said he was sorry, he got extra chores for a week. Or the time when he went along with a group of boys in high school to a road race, again skipping school. That instance had had similar consequences, as did his daydreaming through a couple of finals and flunking a class. I think Uncle Jesse worried more about his not getting an education than anything else. As a matter of fact, the only time I ever saw him get in serious trouble, he was seventeen, and didn’t come home from a party until after midnight. Uncle Jesse was forever trying to keep us boys from getting into any sort of trouble that had to do with girls; we were pretty stubborn about wanting to, but he generally won. Daisy was much easier for him to deal with in that respect. She was much more the young homemaker.

She got into her share of trouble, though. Not as extreme as we boys, but she wasn’t always a little angel, either. She would have her fits of temper, and would often think up ways to get back at me or Bo when we’d been teasing her. She also tended to lose track of time and end up late for events or meetings. But she always wanted to please Uncle Jesse, and I didn’t see her punished many times. If he ever had a real worry about her, it would have been that her sincere caring about people would get her taken advantage of by someone who would play on her emotions. He was just as stubborn about protecting her as he was about protecting us.

I’m so glad that he had the will and love to turn this possible gangland kid into a steady young man who knew what morality and integrity was, the same young man who was able to take being drafted into the Marines with grace and pride. I think it was the thought of my family, especially Uncle Jesse, counting on me that kept me going those long years I spent in Vietnam. I know that it was because of him that I was able to keep a sense of right and wrong, because of what he’d taught me that I was able to remember that God was in control, not those wicked men. I was never sure I really could show him how truly thankful I was for what he did in bringing me up right, no matter how many years I had to try. But I think he knew.

He didn’t have to put everything aside, even if it was something important, to listen to us and help us. To love us, and even forgive us.

I remember when I was seven, and Bo and I had caught a really big trout. It had put up quite a struggle, and we were both dripping wet from falling in the pond, but laughing, when we brought our prize home. Uncle Jesse laughed with us, and before sending us both to take a bath, gave such glowing praise that we’d have done anything in the whole world for him in that moment, had he asked.

I remember when Daisy first came to live with us. She didn’t know anything about farm life, didn’t know anything about work or taking care of a home. But her heart was in trying, and although we boys joked about her first baking and sewing attempts behind her back, I now see how gentle and understanding Uncle Jesse was. No matter what she did wrong, he found a way to make it right, found a way to fix it. I never saw her cry over something that had gone wrong, because Uncle Jesse always took the time to help her get it right.

I remember a time when I was eleven, and Bo and Daisy both nine. Bo came running in, angry and almost in tears. He even refused to talk to me, a rare occurrence, just running to our bedroom and slamming the door. It was Uncle Jesse who went in to talk to him, who pushed past the injured defenses of a young boy to find out what was wrong. It turned out that some of the other kids at school had been making fun of him because he was too little to play basketball well. My Duke temper flared up instantly, and I started to run out the door to go yell at whoever I could find to yell at, but Uncle Jesse came to settle me down too, sitting us both down and teaching us about forgiveness. And the problem was solved in a few years, anyway. Bo went on a growth spurt that left him taller than me!

I remember other occasions… when I was having trouble with algebra and Uncle Jesse spent several evenings just teaching me at our kitchen table. When Bo was learning to drive and ran the pickup through the fence, and Uncle Jesse didn’t really get mad. When Daisy wanted to see what work in the fields was like, and put our whole schedule back a day because she wasn’t as strong as we boys and got in the way. When he taught me to play guitar. When I was a teenager and came home from a fight (again), and he patched me up without a single angry word. So many other times, too… ever since he took us under his wing, he was doing things like that, even after we’d grown up.

He didn’t have to risk his very freedom or give up the family profession for us, either. But he did.

Like the time I was on a moonshine run for a neighbor. I was just barely sixteen at the time, still wild and free-spirited and full of myself despite my new-found loyalty to my family. I figured that I, with our powerful shine car Black Tillie, could outrun anything else on four wheels. I’d been wrong. Sheriff Gerald of Kingston County got on my tail from the moment I crossed the county line, and I’d known nothing else to do but to holler on the ridge-runners’ CB channel for help. Two minutes later, Uncle Jesse, who’d apparently been following me though I hadn’t known it, raced past, spinning in front of the cop car and giving me a chance to escape. I had done so as fast as I could, speeding back into Hazzard to hide in the hills. I’d been scared when Uncle Jesse didn’t show up for a few hours, imagining him arrested and in jail. But he showed up about dinnertime, a bit haggard but smiling, with yet another tale to tell about how he’d outdriven a pursuer. I kept apologizing for being stupid enough to not watch for police, but he’d forgiven me even before I’d said I was sorry. The next day we went back out to rerun the shine, him sitting in the passenger seat. I learned a lot that day, now that I was willing to open my ears and listen, realizing that no, I didn’t know it all.

Then there was the time, years later, when Bo and I were on another moonshine run, for our own family. It was to be our last. We weren’t being cocky or doing anything dumb… we found out later that we’d been turned in by another ridge-runner, an unfriendly hermit who wanted our business. The revenuers were snapping at our bumper before we even got out of the county. They were yelling for us to stop on the secret channel, so we knew that we couldn’t call for help without being overheard. I was scared, but I refused to show it in front of Bo. He was worrying enough for the both of us. We spun and hid, leaped over a creek, and finally just plain tried to outrun them. But the revenuers were experienced, and knew how to drive. We didn’t lose them. Then we hit their roadblock, in a narrow canyon where there was no escape route. We got out of the car and tried to run for it, but men in uniform were everywhere. We were arrested and charged with not only making and transporting illegal liquor, but also with trying to evade arrest. Bo being legally a minor didn’t help the situation any, either. Things looked bleak; we were both up for a life sentence.

But then Uncle Jesse showed up in the Atlanta Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms office where we were being held. And he made a deal with the very people that he’d sworn he would never, ever give in to. For us. Because he loved us. He made a pact, in writing, that he would give up the Duke clan’s proud heritage of moonshining, never make another drop, if they would let us out on probation. I was surprised when the ATF agreed. We were on our way home after only an hour or so of paperwork. Neither of us boys could ever touch a gun again, could ever cross the Hazzard county line without our uncle accompanying us, like for a shopping trip in Capitol City, or without written permission from County Commissioner JD “Boss” Hogg. The family would be somewhat poor from now on, depending only on what we could get out of the farm. But, we were free. We had our lives back.

He didn’t have to put the farm in peril just because Bo and I wanted to do something we couldn’t on our own. In that, he went above and beyond any call of even family duty.

Just after I got back from the military, we boys decided to build a racecar, to try to finally beat Boss Hogg at his own crooked annual race. We built a powerful engine, with our mechanic friend Cooter’s help, but we ran out of money quicker than we’d thought we would, and had no way to buy a car body and fix it up. Especially when our old truck was impounded by Rosco for impeding traffic. We were in a real bind… and then Uncle Jesse risked everything he had left, just to make us happy. He went to his old enemy Boss and got out a mortgage on the farm. We’ve been fighting to not lose our home because of that ever since. In a way trying to repay him, we have used the car we built, the General Lee (which by the way did win that race), to fight for the justice he always complained was leaving our society. In Hazzard County, the power of right still reigned over wrong because of us Dukes, despite JD Hogg.

He risked the farm many other times as well, in getting Bo, Daisy, and I out of jail when Boss and Sheriff Rosco Coltrane would put us there under false charges. Numerous times we just barely got a mortgage payment to Boss’ door in time, because of the extra time it had taken to scrape up the money thanks to paying bails. But except for an occasional complaint about our being cocky enough to let our guard down and get framed, Uncle Jesse never seemed to mind. We tried for the rest of his life, but we never could quite repay him. He never seemed to want to be repaid. He just kept giving, to the very end.

Uncle Jesse didn’t have to be the man he was. He didn’t have to be our hero. He didn’t have to risk everything he had simply for the love of his kids. He could have just let me be adopted by other family members, could have done the same with Bo; after all, he was an older man living alone, hardly the “ideal” parent. He could have let Daisy stay with her Aunt Roseanne, he didn’t have to care enough to take her out of a wealthy but uncaring environment. He gave up his whole life for us. Again and again, he gave up his energy and time to raise us, teaching us to do what was right as well as giving us a freedom, a happiness we would never have known otherwise. He risked his livelihood, what was most important to him, to fulfill our dreams. He was always there whenever we needed help, or someone to cry on, or just a hug. He was our cheering squad, always making us feel that we were doing whatever we were doing really well, although now that I look back, I have to chuckle at some of it.

He didn’t have to do anything that he did. But he did… and the result, at least to my adult eyes as I glance over at my cousins standing near me, was a beautiful thing. I know that I’m not normally one to wax poetic, except maybe when I’m writing a song, but… he was in a way our angel.

We’ll all miss him. Especially I, I think, even though I’m the only one of the three of us not crying right now. Bo’s trying to act strong, his arm around Daisy, but he’s wavering; I can see it. I’m a little surprised that I’m not in the same state of shock. I was at first, a couple of days ago, but… I run a hand through my hair and look down at the green grass under my feet, at the hole in the sod that is meant to be a grave, and I can’t help but smile just a little. My eyes tear up, but it’s only part grief. Somewhere, deep inside, I can’t be completely sad. I’ll miss him, but I know he’s in a place of so much more joy now. It’s almost like his reward for all that he’s done for us. I can only hope that I can carry on his legacy, that I can be a credit to him, that I can be half the man he was.

I step forward slightly as the minister says his final words, and smile again. “You can rest now, Uncle Jesse,” I whisper. “You’ve done well by us all. You’ve been a wonderful father. Now it’s your turn to run to the arms of a Father.” I take a deep breath, glancing up at the blue, sunny sky. “You know…” I say thoughtfully, as if Uncle Jesse was here and could hear me, “He didn’t have to be, either.”

END

by: Sarah Stodola

NOTE – This vignette happens… well, somewhere late in the second season, I think.

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THE LAST

It just hit me. Nearly all my life, I’ve heard it, I’ve known it. But suddenly, as I hear playful shouts and look out the kitchen window to see my cousins fighting with the hose and bucket they’ve been using to wash the farm pickup, it strikes me like lightning. They’re the only ones out there, the only ones for miles around. We’re the last of our clan.

Why it took me this long to comprehend, I don’t know. Maybe my twentieth birthday a couple of weeks ago made me realize that I have to grow up sometime. Maybe the fact that our Uncle Jesse took my jeep to visit a friend of his for the weekend, leaving us kids alone here, made me imagine life out from under his protective wing. Maybe the boys out there acting like children made me wonder how they would survive life on their own. Whatever the reason, the fact that we four, Jesse, Luke, Daisy, and Bo, are the only Dukes left just hit me hard.

How would we survive life on our own? It wouldn’t be easy at all to leave the island of familiar safety that this farm has always been to us. I know that someday we each will have to move away, get married and have children of our own, because we have to try to carry on Duke blood in the next generation. In our culture, family, bloodline, is everything. And we don’t have any left. But somehow I can’t imagine that life, can’t imagine having to take on that responsibility. I have to admit it — I’m scared. I don’t want to think about having to be a completely serious adult, having to start my own family. I don’t want to think about moving away. Someday I want to get married and have children, but not anytime soon. I’m still a kid myself! Aren’t I?

Biting my lip, I look out the window again to see Bo, my blond cousin just barely younger than I am, chase our older cousin Luke around the side of the pickup. They’ve left the water war, now that they’re both dripping wet, for the fun of chasing each other around. I have to smile. Somehow I think that they’re more kids than I am. At least they are when they’re with each other. I really love them both, those boys. But really, I guess being the last of our family line would be even harder for them than it is for me. To be honest, I don’t have a responsibility quite like they do, cause I’m a girl. I should try to keep our blood alive, if not our name. But the boys have to do both. And I know for a fact that neither of them is interested in getting married. They both like going to dances and flirting around, but when it comes to anything serious, they’re admittedly girl-shy. I think that at the root of it is the same problem I have — they’re scared of having to grow up and leave home.

Turning away from the window, I go out of the kitchen and to the living room. I was going to head for my bedroom, but I pause in front of the hearth to look at the framed photograph hanging there. It’s really a cute little picture; our uncle, Jesse, is standing behind three children, aged nine, nine, and eleven. That was just the year after I came to live at the farm. I hadn’t fit in at all for a while, but I’d learned, and the three Duke cousins became an inseparable team in very short order. We’d run through the woods together, galloped on horseback cross- country together. We’d gone swimming and fishing and hiking together. We’d even won a brief ‘war’ with a group of older boys once together. Nowadays, things haven’t changed a whole lot. We still hide in the woods, we still race each other on horseback, we still go fishing. We also tease the local law, we win every fast-paced road race in the county, and we have to rescue each other from the trouble we get into on a regular basis. And from the start, at the hub of it all, has always been and will always be Uncle Jesse.

He had been a widower with a farm to care for and no one to love. Then he took in the boys when their parents died, and then me, and we became a family. He was father and mother to us all. He made sure we all became best friends. He taught us about honor and loyalty and love. And we learned our lessons well. We love him the most of all. He’s been our protective hovering shadow, fierce like a mother hawk. We fight our own battles much of the time, but we know we can always run back to him when things get too rough, and we often do. It would be so hard not to have that leader figure in our lives. Our family structure is really very simple. Uncle Jesse is the head of the home and the one who approves all decisions, Luke devises most of the plans and is the main speaker for the family, and me and Bo are spies, actors, and getaway drivers, at the bottom but for the most part happy to be there because we feel safe that way. We make a good team as long as we all do what we’re expected to. And I don’t want that to change.

I’m scared of it changing.

Sitting down on the couch, I curl up in a corner and hug a pillow to my chest, looking around at this familiar room. It’s a part of my life, part of my world. I want it all to stay the same. I want my *life* to stay the same.

The front door opens, and I turn my head to watch the boys come in, soaked but at least no longer actually dripping. Luke heads straight for their bedroom, but Bo, always quick to pick up on emotional currents, glances at me, his grin fading as his dark blue eyes soften. “What’s the matter, Daisy?” he asks.

I muster a smile, meeting his gaze with one the same color. “Nothing really. Nothing in the here-and-now. I was just thinkin’ about something.”

He crouches on the floor next to me. “So? Tell.”

I take a deep breath, then let it out. “I was just thinking that we’re the last of our clan.”

He smiles again, as though he thinks I’m being kinda silly. “I know that. We all know that.”

I sit up, tossing the pillow aside. “But it’s not a game anymore, Bo! We’re growing up, and someday soon things are gonna have to change. We’re gonna have to leave here, have to try to keep our bloodline alive. But I don’t want things to change!”

“Why do they have to?” comes a third voice. Luke comes out of the boys’ room, now in dry jeans and tucking in a clean blue denim shirt.

“…Huh?” I blink and frown at him, not comprehending. “What do you mean?”

He leans against the wall casually, his fingers slid into his jean pockets and a slight smile quirking the corners of his mouth. “Daisy, you do have a point. We are the last of our line, and we do have somewhat of an obligation to continue it. But,” he holds up a hand as I open my mouth, “you and Bo, at least, are still kids. You just turned twenty. Don’t worry about life away from here yet; we won’t have to face that for a while.”

“Besides,” Bo picks up, and I turn to look at him, “Uncle Jesse says that what we want to do matters more. He says that we’re individuals, and we shouldn’t be forced into life if we’re not ready yet.”

“How do you know?” I finally manage to get a word in edgewise.

Luke speaks up again. “Cause we both had a talk with him about it only two days ago.”

I blink. That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. “You did?”

My older cousin’s smile softens, and he comes over to sit down beside me. His light blue eyes capture mine, and he nods. “Did you think you were the only one who ever thought about having to leave home, Daisy? I thought about it a long time ago. I talked to Jesse then, and he said he wouldn’t make me go if I’d rather stay. Then, a couple days back, Bo comes up with the same worry, and talks to me about it. I told him what Uncle Jesse said to me, but the three of us had the conversation all over again too. Uncle Jesse said that neither of us boys have to feel like we should leave.”

“He even said he wants us to stay,” Bo pipes up, eyes bright and candid. “That he’d be lonely if we left.”

I find myself smiling just a little. “I guess the same applies to me.”

“Even more so!” Luke laughs. “You’re a girl; you couldn’t carry on family name!” Gently, he places a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry about it. Just cause you ain’t officially a teenager anymore don’t mean you can’t still be a kid. For as long as you wanna be.”

Feeling tears sting my eyes, I lean over to wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes and laying my head on his shoulder. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be right now. Someday I want to grow up and get married, have a husband and children of my own, but not yet. Right now I want my older cousin, my big brother, to be the man I trust to take care of me. I’m not ready to grow up. And I don’t have to, the thought finally sinks in. I don’t have to. “I’m glad,” I whisper. “I don’t want to lose this farm, this home. Or Uncle Jesse. And I don’t want to lose you boys either.”

Luke chuckles, and hugs me briefly before leaning back to look at me with a seriousness belied by the teasing twinkle deep in his eyes. “I don’t wanna lose you either. I mean, who’d do my laundry?”

“Or the cooking,” Bo supplies helpfully with a grin.

I clench my fists in mock anger, fighting to keep from laughing. “Grr! Is that all I am to you?” Then, as the boys both jump to their feet and head off at high speed, “Hey, come back here, I’m talkin’ to ya!”

They don’t even pause, just keep on running into the kitchen, laughing as if daring me to chase them. After a moment, I do, leaping up to dash through the doorway and out the screen door after them.

“You fellas come back here! I’m gonna get you for that!”

But there’s not a sound in reply. I pause, glancing around. Where’d they go? They’re fast, but not that fast. They’re hiding somewhere. I turn slowly, my eyes tracking across our land. In the big oak… no. In the corral… only the horses, snorting and looking at me curiously. In the barn… could Luke and Bo have gotten that far? Nah. I don’t think so… maybe. I take a single step in that direction.

And then spin around just in time to duck sideways as Bo leaps out from around the side of the house. Stupid me, I forgot to look there! I yelp and start running, aiming for the oak. I can feel my cousin on my heels. I leap for the lowest branch and scramble up with a speed born of desperation. I thought *I* was chasing *them*; how did this happen? Bo’s right behind me, so I keep going. Finally I slide out to the end of a long, narrow branch, one that bends under me and that I know won’t hold his weight. He knows it too; he hesitates next to the trunk and scowls playfully at me.

“No fair, Daisy! I can’t get out there!”

I grin, unable to keep an impish tone from my voice. “Well, cuz, all’s fair in love, war, and tree-climbing!”

“Yep.” That’s Luke’s voice, and I spin in surprise to see him sitting on the branch directly below mine. I tense, eyes widening.

“Oh, no, you don’t!”

He grins, slowly, mischievously. “Oh no I don’t what?” Then he reaches up and grabs my leg, pulling hard. With a yell, I fall, right into the pile of hay underneath the branch. The boys leap in after me, and we get in a brief wrestling match before falling back to rest, breathing hard and not caring one bit about the hay in our hair and clothes.

I sigh and look up into the blue sky, still grinning like a little kid. I feel like one too… free, safe, with no cares. And I can stay that way for as long as I want to. So can young- hearted Bo, and even Luke. I know that now. And I love it.

We’re the last of our clan. That will never change. With us dies the bloodline. That will never change either. But we have years, many years, ahead of us in which to think that way. And to tell the truth, being the last has a strange pride to it. Almost as if we’re unique, different, special. That idea feels good, in a funny way. Right now, and for some time to come, all we have to be is ourselves. Us. The wild ones. The best drivers in the county. Ridge-runner Jesse’s kids. The Duke cousins. The Duke heirs.

The last.

END

by: Sarah Stodola

NOTE — Many thanks to Rose O’Thorns, for allowing me to use some ideas from one of her stories. You should probably (though it’s not imperative) read “Mining The Past” before reading this one. It happens not long after the episode “The Legacy”.

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NO SUCH THING AS MONSTERS

“Lukas?”

My older cousin paused in his pacing to turn, pale blue eyes startled in the faint light. In all my twenty-two years, I had never called him that. Bo did as a fond nickname, Uncle Jesse did when he was ticked off, and Cooter did playfully in his rhymes, but not me. Never me. But right now, I felt like calling him that anyway.

“What?”

I hugged my knees close to my chest and forced myself not to bite my lip, from either fear or the pain from my left ankle. Luke had checked it and said it wasn’t broken, but it hurt enough to be. I had tripped in some rubble while trying to get out of the collapse zone in a big hurry, and though the makeshift wrapping we’d made out of some old rags we’d found in a corner helped, it didn’t stop the swelling or the periodic shooting pains. I’d be pacing too, except that it would hurt too much. But what I was forced to admit was almost as bad, though true. “I’m scared.”

Luke hesitated for a moment, then came over to me and sat down on the moonshine barrel to the left of mine. I wasn’t the only one injured. Even in the dimness, I could see the blood on his forehead where he’d fallen, and he was favoring his left shoulder too. Left must be our unlucky side, huh? We were a real pair of wounded soldiers, me and my cousin. Slowly, he reached out and took my hand in his, squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to be, Daisy. They’ll find us. I’m sure of it.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. I know that too. But I’m scared anyway.” I eyed the flickering candle set on a metal pail far away from the explosive whiskey nervously. It only had about an inch to go before it died.

I could feel his eyes on me, studying me thoughtfully in that quiet, seeing way he has, and averted my gaze to a far corner of the room. But even though I was embarrassed, I knew, down deep, that he’d never laugh at me. The soft tone of his words, when they finally came, supported that knowledge. “Daisy… are you afraid of the dark?”

I tensed involuntarily, but finally nodded. There was nothing else to do. “Not sorta dark, like at night… just pitch black. Like this cave’s gonna be when that candle goes out.”

Even though I still hadn’t met his gaze, he reached out and pulled me into a strong but gentle hug. I couldn’t help but relax a little in his arms, feeling a bit safer when I was close to him. I guess I understood how Bo felt sometimes, now, the way he depended on our older cousin. Luke responded by tightening the hug briefly. “Hey, sweetheart, we’re gonna get out of here,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

I finally swallowed back threatening tears and sat up, away from him, to meet his eyes. “You know what it really is?” I confided quietly, my voice still echoing off the hard granite walls. “It ain’t really the dark itself that scares me. It’s all the things I can’t see that I just *know* are creeping up on me from behind, even if they aren’t really there. It sounds stupid, I know, but…”

Luke smiled slightly, then reached out and rubbed his thumb under my eyes, wiping away the betraying tears that had leaked out despite my efforts. Then he sat back, hands on his knees, looking a little uncertain but determined. “Daisy? Would it help if I told you I know how you feel?”

I could only stare at him at first, and then giggle despite myself. “Luke, you ain’t scared of the dark, are you?”

“No… not anymore.” The hesitant truth in his voice made my laughter disappear instantly. I studied my cousin’s face intently.

“What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, then suddenly jumped up, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, to pace the floor with a tense, almost urgent stride. I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about whatever this was.

“Luke? You… you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want,” I offered quietly.

He turned and looked me straight in the eyes. “No. I’ll tell you. When I first came back from the war, and was frightened of the dark, and of gunfire Remember?”

I certainly did, and nodded wordlessly. The sound of fireworks had had him refusing to go to town on the Fourth of July. And getting stuck in a cold, dark pit had nearly driven him crazy with terror. It had scared me more than anyone, I think, because Luke had always been so strong before, and I had never imagined him any other way. But slowly, surely, he had gotten over both fears, gotten his life back to normal.

“I understand what it’s like to feel like you can’t see, and there’s things comin’ at you from all sides,” he continued, his voice growing almost haunted. “I know what it’s like to imagine things, terrible, unreal things, creeping up from behind. I know, Daisy.”

I did bite my lower lip that time, and reached out a hand toward him in compassion. “It’s okay, Luke,” I found myself reassuring softly. “It’s all over.”

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, and his eyes glinted faint amusement behind the fondness. “I’m all right. Even though I still hate really dark places, I’m not gonna fall apart on you or anything. I was just remembering…”

“Well, good,” I attempted to joke. “The last thing we need in here is two freaked-out people.”

The little twitches widened into an honest smile. “Yeah. You’re right about that.” He finally came back to sit down beside me again, joining my stare at the candle. “I wonder how much longer it’ll last, and how long it will take Uncle Jesse, Bo, and Cooter to find us,” he said conversationally, as though it were nothing. “I mean, we have enough air in here, but we will need food and water eventually.”

“Not to mention a bath,” I wrinkled my nose, shoving my hair back from my eyes with a dusty hand. “That cave-in didn’t do my hair or clothes much good.” I said it half to get my mind off my ankle, half just to get Luke to laugh. He did chuckle a little.

“That’s a girl for ya. Always worried about their looks,” he teased. I mock-swung at him, and he caught my fist in his palm easily. “And they can’t fight, neither.”

I snapped the other fist out from my side, pulling my punch just before I hit his jaw. “Uh-huh,” I drawled out sarcastically. “Girls are such sissies, huh?”

“Well…” he seemed to ponder it, then grinned. “Yeah. But you ain’t most girls, Daisy.” He lightly cuffed me across the jaw, then opened his arms. I leaned into the offered hug, smiling too despite the pain.

“You know what?” I said quietly. “I love you, Lukas.”

I heard his smile in his voice, even though I didn’t look up. “Love ya too, cousin.”

Just then, the candle flickered violently. I jumped and looked over at our only light source with wide eyes. I clenched my jaw, determined not to panic, though it felt like my heart rate had just doubled. “Uh, Luke..?”

“I know,” he whispered. The candle was going to go out pretty soon. “I guess here is where we both face our monsters, huh?”

“Monsters?!” I buried my face in his shirt, purposefully overreacting to try and lighten the mood a little.

He laughed softly, though tensely. “Oh, Daisy, don’t be silly. Not real ones. I meant figuratively. Hey, talkin’ about that, remember when I was six, and Jake Kelly told me there was a monster under my bed?”

I quirked a little smile and nodded, remembering. “Uh-huh. And you were so convinced that you convinced me and Bo. You boys both slept in my room for about a week until Uncle Jesse got wise.”

“And then he told us there was no such thing as monsters, and made us go with him to look under my bed, and Bo’s bed, and all over the house, until we were satisfied there weren’t any.”

“Yeah,” I whispered fondly. Uncle Jesse had always kept us safe, and we’d even been sure he could fight a horrible kid-eating beast if necessary. “You know what, Luke? There’s no monsters in here, either.”

“Nope. Not so much as a snake.”

At that thought, I shivered. “Please, don’t make me think about snakes.”

“Sorry.” He still hadn’t let go of me, almost as though he were seeking as much comfort as I was. I didn’t mind, either; I wasn’t ready for him to let go. “There ain’t any snakes down here, I promise.”

“Okay.” I finally sat up and away from him, playing with my hair in my fingers nervously. “I wish Uncle Jesse was here right now,” I spoke up after a long silence.

“Yeah, I know. Me too, to be honest.” I glanced over to see his eyes surprisingly open and emotional. He normally hid much of what he felt, unlike me and Bo. He was always the steadying force in our group. He still was being strong now; he was just showing what was inside himself too. I felt suddenly like I’d been given a precious gift — the inner feelings of my older cousin.

I took his hand and squeezed briefly. “When do you think he’ll be here?”

“I don’t know. He will, though. He will. He knew we were coming out here to check out the old Rainbow Mine in case there was any more hidden moonshine.”

I patted the side of the barrel underneath me. Exploring around this afternoon, we had found this other room, where there *was* more. Then the cave-in had happened, and the mine shaft had collapsed. The rooms below it hadn’t been harmed, though, so we were okay, just stuck. “Yeah.”

“When we don’t show up for dinner, they’re gonna come digging for us. We’ll be fine till then.”

Just as he said that, the candle flickered sharply again, then once more… then sputtered and went completely out, drowned in the melted wax, leaving two young Dukes completely in darkness. I gasped and grabbed for my cousin, gripping his denim jacket in my fists. “Luke..!”

He fumbled around until his hand rested on my shoulder. “Shh. We’ll be okay, Daisy. Don’t get scared.”

Slowly, I managed to let go. Still keeping one hand in Luke’s so I didn’t lose track of where he was, I held up the other in front of my face. I brought it close to my eyes, until I smacked myself in the nose, but still couldn’t see a thing except the pained stars that filled my vision. “It’s… it’s like being completely blind,” I stated, rubbing my nose gingerly.

“…Yeah.”

I glanced over toward my older cousin, even though I couldn’t see a thing. He sounded almost scared… almost. My mind flashed back to his terror of years before, and I wondered if he was really as over it as he’d said he was. I didn’t say a word, though, just leaned against him and sighed, determined to fight back my own fear.

After a while, I heard, “Daisy?” The word was tense, surprisingly so.

“Yeah? What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Let’s talk for a while, until they get find us. I don’t want it to be quiet. If it’s quiet, I start hearing shouts and artillery fire.”

I turned my head sharply to stare through the blackness in his direction. His voice was a little shaky… scared, I realized. That scared me, because he was always the brave one. “You gonna be okay?”

His answer was a split second too late to be convincing. “…Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

I bit my lip. All right. Looked like we two were in the same boat. Hurt *and* scared. Suddenly I was seeing Luke in a completely different light… I had a sudden feeling that this was part of what Bo saw, when he always stood behind him with a fierce sort of loyalty that seemed to have nearly as much protectiveness in it as trust for protection. “Okay. What do we talk about?”

“Well… we were talking about back when I thought there was a monster under my bed.” I could hear an attempted smile in his voice. I had to laugh a little.

“Yeah. You know, the kind of monsters that are real are really more scary when you come down to it.”

He paused. “What d’ya mean?”

I shifted position on my barrel. “Well, since we’re talking about when we were little, remember Freddy Harrison?”

His answer, when it came, was laced with traces of old anger. “Yeah. He used to follow Bo around, and when I wasn’t there he’d pick on him and beat him up.”

“Bo just wasn’t strong enough to fight back. I was pretty scared of Freddy too, remember?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. He used to steal all the girls’ lunches cause they couldn’t fight back.”

I smiled to myself, and squeezed his hand. “But finally we Dukes got sick and tired of it, and you taught us both to fight behind Uncle Jesse’s back.” He hadn’t wanted us to learn to hurt others at that young age, but Luke had figured there was no other choice. We’d all gotten in trouble… sort of. Our uncle was really kinda proud of us, and getting rid of the bully had been worth the week’s grounding. We hadn’t even gotten whipped for it.

He chuckled. I could hear his smile as he put my thoughts into words. “And then came that day when he tried to pick on Bo again, and you two ganged up on him.”

“He didn’t know what hit him!” I giggled.

Luke sighed. “Yeah. I remember. He didn’t turn out to be such a monster after all, just a coward who picked on little kids cause he wanted to seem tough.”

I scooted over a little and laid my head against my older cousin’s shoulder, closing my eyes and feeling perversely safe in his strength despite both our fear of the dark. I sighed. “What about other ‘monsters’?”

“Like what?” He sounded a little more at ease now, and I felt more that way, too. He was right; talking helped. It didn’t give you room to imagine.

I thought. “Well… what about Sheriff Little?”

He shuddered dramatically, and I grinned at my older cousin’s rarely-shown playful sense of humor. “Now *that’s* a monster.”

I shrugged. “Well, yeah. But at the same time, think about it. He’s out to get us Dukes, yeah, but we’re safe as long as we stay in Hazzard County, and you have to admit he’s honest.”

“Um.” He sighed. “Guess you’re right. As long as he thinks we did something crooked, he’d be more than happy to put us all *under* his jail, but when he finds out who really did it, it’s them he carts off, ignoring us.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, shifting position slightly and wincing. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Concern filled his voice.

“I’ll be all right. My ankle just hurts. A lot.”

“Well, it’s pretty badly sprained. You know, if there was anything I could do to help, I would.”

I squeezed his hand again. “Your just being here helps. Let’s keep talkin’.”

“Okay…” Luke paused. “Okay. Big jumps.”

“Huh?”

“We were talking about things we used to be scared of.”

I half-smiled, incredulous. “You used to be scared of jumping?”

“Yeah.” He sounded a little sheepish, and I wished I could see his face. I had a feeling he was probably blushing. “The guys all would have contests, but I’d always find reasons not to participate. The first time I lived through a jump, when my friend Jared took his car over Catfish Creek without warning me, it scared me to death. I didn’t show it to him, but I felt like crawling under the seat and staying there”

I giggled a little. “I’m sorry, but it’s funny to think of you not wanting to jump!”

“Well, I was.”

I reached down and touched my ankle carefully, and bit back a hiss of pain. To get my mind off it, I asked, “What changed your mind?”

“Actually, it was two-fold. Being forced to learn to parachute in the Marines helped a whole lot. But when I really, finally knew I was over it was when Bo flew the General Lee over the river that first drive. When we took off, I felt that same twisting in my gut, that terror, but I guess my trust in my cousin overrode it. I was a little shaky at first when we got back on the ground, but his excitement just wiped out all the fear, and I ain’t refused a reasonable jump since.”

I slid my arm around my older cousin’s waist and hugged him briefly. “You both taught me to fly. A car, anyway. Darcy taught me to fly a plane. I think learning to jump kept me from ever being afraid of really flying. I mean, if I could handle without wings, then with wings was no big deal,” I shrugged with a smile.

“I guess it wouldn’t be,” Luke agreed. Without completely letting go of my hand, neither of us wanting to lose track of the whereabouts of the other, he stretched his arms over his head, then groaned.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. My shoulder aches.” He shifted on his barrel. “Wonder what time it is.”

“I don’t have a clue. I don’t have a watch.”

“I do, but it ain’t much use in the dark anyway.”

“Too bad pocket watches don’t glow,” I teased lightly.

He chuckled. “Um. Yeah. I like mine the way it is, though. Uncle Jesse gave it to me on my twelfth birthday.”

I smiled thoughtfully. “There’s really something special about those watches, huh? You know what used to put me to sleep when I was really little?”

“What?”

I closed my eyes, imagining. My voice softened as I thought back. “I’d lean against Uncle Jesse’s chest, snuggling in, and close my eyes and listen. I could hear his heartbeat, and the watch in his overalls pocket. The sounds put together would make me relax and go to sleep.”

Luke was quiet for a moment. “Uncle Jesse was kinda the mother you needed in a way, huh?”

“Sort of, yeah,” I smiled to myself. “He had all of my love. Still does.”

“What about us boys?” he half-seriously complained. I was almost sure I could hear a hidden smile.

I hugged him briefly. “Oh, I love you too. Not quite the same, though. You’re my brothers. I looked up to you, Luke, but not quite the same as to Uncle Jesse. Uncle Jesse could do anything, I was sure.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes I think Bo still thinks that way about *me*.”

“He sorta does. But even he looks to Uncle Jesse more.”

A pause. “You know what? I just thought of something. He’s more our daddy than our uncle.”

I felt a bubbling up inside of love, so strong and deep I couldn’t contain it, and felt almost like crying. “Yeah. He’s *my* daddy, I know that.”

“I never really thought about it before now… but he’s mine, too.”

I smiled and leaned against his shoulder. I was glad that the side I was on was not the one he was hurt on, cause it made me feel a lot better to have that contact. “I wonder when he’s gonna get here.”

There was no answer for a few seconds, then, “I don’t know.”

We lapsed from there into a long silence, until I sighed and shifted position again, a bit uncomfortable from lack of movement. “What else can we talk about?”

“Huh?” Luke sounded startled. He must have been thinking, rather deeply, about something else. That was the only time you could startle him. “Oh. Well… what about one of us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah. You, me, or Bo.”

“What about?”

“I dunno. Something…”

I nibbled on my lower lip thoughtfully, dying to ask a certain question yet afraid to. Finally I decided to ask anyway. I bolstered my courage, and before I could change my mind, spoke. “What about you? What was it like, being in the war?”

I could feel his tension, his drawing away, even before he released my hand and stood up. “Daisy, I don’t wanna talk about it. I already did talk to Bo, and a little bit to you and Uncle Jesse. Ain’t that enough?”

I shrugged, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “But I want you to talk to *me*. Really talk, not just a little. Luke… what happened that made you so terrified of dark places?”

He drew a loud, shuddering breath. I winced, almost feeling his pain. But finally he answered. “I guess you have a right to know. I… I was captured for a little while.”

“What?” I felt myself pale. “They never said so…”

Luke sat down beside me. “I was on a special intelligence mission.”

“Oh…”

He slid his hand invisibly into mine. “I wasn’t really tortured, Daisy… not like some of the others. I pretended to be nuts so they’d figure I didn’t know anything worth bothering with. I didn’t have enough food or water, and the hotel accommodations stunk, literally…” He squeezed my hand gently, and I could almost feel the slow, rueful smile I heard. “But I survived it, and was rescued not a full month later. They never had a chance to write you a ‘missing in action’ letter.”

I leaned hard into him, wrapping my arms around my cousin, my brother, in the comfort I wished I’d been able to give to him back then. “You talked to Bo?”

“Yeah. I ain’t told anybody else up till now.”

I sighed, deeply, then winced at another shaft of pain from my ankle. I held my breath until it abated.

Luke noticed. “What’s wrong, Daisy?”

“Just my ankle.” I winced again, tensing involuntarily at another flare-up. “It’s hurting more.”

“I think that’s because you’re sitting there, without moving. Not good enough circulation. You’ve either got to put it up, or move it.”

I whimpered slightly. “I don’t want to move it. It hurts!”

“I know. But you ain’t really got a choice. It’ll help in the long run. C’mon, I’ll help you.” Before I had the chance to protest again, strongly muscled arms lifted me carefully to my feet. I lifted the bad foot before it touched the ground.

“No!”

“Daisy…” His voice was stubborn, that flat, almost-but-not-quite warning tone I had often heard Uncle Jesse use. He wasn’t gonna take no for an answer. Gritting my teeth, I slowly brought my foot down.

I almost cried out when I put part of my weight on it. Luke didn’t say a word, but slid an arm around me, supporting about half my weight. He took a slow, careful step forward, and I followed, unwilling to let go of the only other human being around.

“We can’t see,” I informed him after ten steps. Yep, I counted every one. I wasn’t placing much weight on my sprained ankle, though, and moving around a bit *was* helping despite the discomfort. “So, what are we gonna do?”

My cousin sighed. “I know. Let’s go back. I don’t want you tripping on a rock and getting hurt worse.”

We turned and started a slow journey back, counting the steps out loud to find our starting place. Then, holding hands so as not to lose each other, we both cast around with our other hands to find our perches of before. I couldn’t find anything, and so turned to Luke. His silence started my heart pounding in panic. “Where are we?” I whispered. “Luke, we’re lost. We went the wrong direction…”

He hugged me close, comfortingly. “It’s okay. We were as good as lost before. We’ll just sit down on the floor.” He helped me down, carefully, first, then sat down crosslegged next to me. I moved close to him again, like I had been for most of the time we’d been trapped in this cave. It made me feel so much safer. I sighed and finally let go of my fear. We were going to be all right. We just had to wait until we were found and dug out. It shouldn’t be too much longer, I rationalized.

I stretched out my legs to keep circulation going to my ankle, then thought back, attempting to pick up the threads of our conversation. “Luke?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Why… why exactly were you so scared of the dark? You never quite answered the question.”

His abrupt exhalation was audibly unhappy, but then he shrugged, a movement I could feel through the arm I leaned against. “What the heck. Might as well get it out.” He sighed again, deeply. “It ain’t the dark itself, really. It’s being lost, alone, in a cold, enclosed place. It does something to me subconsciously, suddenly makes me scared to death cause I imagine being back in that camp. It makes me think of rats and snakes and hidden things in the corners ready to strike.” He shivered, hard. I reached out and slid both arms around his shoulders, holding him carefully.

“It’s okay, cousin,” I whispered. “It’s all over, it’s been over for years. It can never come back.”

“Except in my dreams.” He swallowed audibly. “Bo still has to wake me out of nightmares once in a while. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever be all over.” His voice was trembling, and I could tell that he had started imagining things…

I grabbed his shoulders, even the sore one, to which he made a complaining noise, and shook him firmly. “Snap out of it!” I ordered half-angrily, knowing that that was the only way I could get through to him before he got lost in whatever world his mind was in. “Lukas K. Duke, you listen to me! It’s over. Over!”

He jerked away, then I felt his whole body go limp with fatigue. “Yeah,” he whispered after a long several minutes. “I’ve… I’ve gotta face it, Daisy.”

It was said with the tone of a man pronouncing his own death sentence. I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He pulled back a little and gripped my lower arms. We couldn’t see in this blackness, yet I knew he would be studying my face if we could. “I’m afraid of being alone in the dark. But I have to face it somehow… it’s the only way I’ll get over it.”

I wrapped my hands around his arms as well. “Luke, I guess I don’t have a good reason like you. But I feel that way anyway. Just don’t leave me alone. That’s what scares me. Don’t leave me alone.” I fought to keep my voice from trembling, but I’m not sure it worked.

“Somehow,” my older cousin said slowly, “I think we have a similar problem. And it probably has a similar answer.” Without a warning, he stood up and moved away. I reached out for him, in vain.

“Luke!” I cried out. “Don’t leave me!”

“I have to,” he said very seriously. “I have to. I ain’t goin’ nowhere… just around the walls and back.” I heard a little hitch in his voice there at the end, and knew he was more scared than he was letting on.

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do, and forced my hand back into my lap. This was something important to him. I couldn’t stop him, it wouldn’t be right. I could survive a few minutes alone, I told myself sternly. “Then… go, Lukas. There’s no such thing as monsters, remember?”

A startled short silence, then a little laugh. “…Yeah. You’re right. No such thing.” He reached out and brushed my shoulder with his fingers. “I’ll be back. Be quiet, okay? We both have to get over our fear by facing it, alone.”

I shivered, but swallowed to get my voice back and nodded. “All right. God go with you.”

He hesitated. “Yeah. Thanks, cuz.” Then he moved away, and was gone.

I heard his footsteps, quietly, as he searched for the wall and then followed it around the room, but that was all. A wave of fear rose up in me, imagining someone else being there in the dark, creeping up on Luke, creeping up on me… “No,” I whispered to myself. Not sure what else to do, I did what Uncle Jesse always did when we were in trouble. I prayed, looking up toward the invisible ceiling. “God, help me. Help Luke. It’s the only way we can get over this. And Lord… make Uncle Jesse find us real soon. Amen.”

I bit my lip and curled into a ball, but somewhere deep inside me, I knew I was too stubborn to just give in to the terror. I was a Duke, and Dukes were stubborn. I couldn’t give up on this. I was alone, but there was nothing to be afraid of, I told myself firmly.

Yet… I couldn’t see a thing… Fear started to creep up inside of me again, and I started whispering to myself once more, ordering my emotions to obey my will. “There’s nothing in here, Daisy. No bad guys, no animals, no creepy crawlies. There’s nothing to hurt Luke, nothing to hurt you…” I kept on talking to myself, rocking back and forth until, slowly, I actually started to believe it. It felt like light cutting into my heart, chasing the fear away, pushing it back inch by inch. I didn’t even realize I’d started singing quietly until I jumped when I heard my cousin’s voice beside me, joining in in a half-whisper. I reached up, fumbling around, until I found his hand, and then pulled myself up to stand on my good leg, keeping most of my weight off the hurt ankle.

Luke squeezed my hand, then pulled me into a surprisingly gentle hug. “Everything’s okay, Daisy,” he said quietly, his voice rough with hidden emotion. “It’s okay.”

“I know it is.” I wiped my eyes and put my hands on his shoulders, steadying myself on my one good leg. “We’re gonna get out of here, Lukas. I really believe that. Don’t you?”

“…Yeah.” His tone was strangely thoughtful. “I guess I do. Daisy?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Just wanted to ask something… why are you calling me Lukas? Normally that’s just Bo that does that.”

I shrugged, smiling wryly to myself. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess I feel like you’re my big brother who’s always gonna take care of me, I guess.”

Luke chuckled. “That’s quite a bit of guessing. You sure?”

I hugged him tightly for a moment, then moved back. “I ain’t sure of much right now, but I’m sure I love you, cousin.”

He chuckled again, but the sound held much more softness than humor this time. “Love you too, little sister.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and the sound seemed to ring through the cave, lighting up my heart even if it didn’t get rid of the inky blackness around us. I decided I wasn’t even gonna ask about Luke, how he felt after forcing himself on that short journey. It must have seemed like forever. I hoped he’d conquered his ‘monster’. I thought he had, by his attitude. He wasn’t quite as tense as he had been before. Still a little worried, naturally, but stronger, more confident, not scared. It was the way I usually saw him, and it felt much more right for him to be this way than how he had been earlier.

We sat down again on the hard floor, and started telling stories again to pass the time. Only this time we were both consciously not speaking of fears or fright. Now it was jokes, re-telling the shine tales Uncle Jesse had told us so many times we had them memorized, making up puns and the like. I realized then that Bo had rubbed off on Luke quite a bit more than my older cousin would admit. He could be very serious… but he could be a real jokester if he wanted to, too.

We lost track of time in the darkness. I don’t know whether it was hours or just half an hour. It felt like a long time, though. But halfway through a story, I heard something… a scratching noise… and went silent, tensing with the anticipation of hearing it again.

“What is it?” Luke asked quietly, a slight edge of hope in his voice.

“I’m… not sure…” Then I heard it again, a definite scratching, and then, suddenly, voices! I screamed. I couldn’t help it; I just didn’t know any other way to express my joy. We’d been found! The voices paused for a second, and Luke jumped to his feet.

“We’re here!” he yelled. “We’re here!” He laughed out loud and reached down to squeeze my shoulder, tense with contained excitement. “Daisy, they’ve found us! Stay here.” With that brief order, he was off, moving as quick as possible through the darkness in the direction of the sounds.

The scraping and digging noises were getting louder now, closer as they dug through the wall. I was suddenly very glad that the wall of this cave was near a cliff face. They could get straight to us. Luke kept talking, guiding them to our exact location, and more and more I was able to pick out specific voices. Bo’s excited yet worried tones, Cooter’s lower-pitched sensibility, Uncle Jesse’s calm leadership. I bit my lip, so glad to hear the people I loved that tears stung my eyes. Within minutes a shaft of light, the first I had seen in hours, sliced through the cave as a shovel pierced through the wall. It wasn’t daylight, though, more that of a lantern. I’d figured it was night by now, but now I knew.

The hole grew quickly, and I had to shield my eyes from the light until they could get adjusted. Through the joyous sounds of reunion, mostly between Luke and Bo, I heard footsteps running toward me, and slowly cracked my eyes open just in time to reach up to my Uncle Jesse. Wordlessly, he knelt down to wrap his arms around me, joy-filled tears glistening in the dim light, rolling down his cheeks and into his beard. I hugged him tightly back, not wanting to ever let go.

“Daisy,” he finally said. “Daisy. Are you hurt anywhere?”

I swallowed back my own tears and nodded. “My ankle’s bad sprained. But other ‘n that I’m fine.”

“Which one?”

“The left.”

While he busied himself looking at my ankle, I grinned up at Bo, from whose bear hug Luke had finally managed to free himself. The two boys were still standing almost close enough to touch each other, though. “Hey, you okay?” my blond cousin asked.

I squeezed his hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just real, *real* glad to see you fellas.”

Luke and I also greeted Cooter, Enos, and even Rosco, who’d come out on off-duty time to help look for us, even though now he blustered and fussed about only wanting to make sure we’d survived so our family couldn’t accuse him of doing anything. Not one of us bought it for one second, and he looked downright embarrassed when I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

Rosco eventually left for home, though, complaining about how late it was, and then while I rested in the pickup, the other men checked out by the light of high-powered lanterns the old shine Luke and I had found. With tools from the back of Cooter’s tow truck, they smashed the aged barrels apart to let the bad whiskey spill out to soak into the dirt of the cave floor, and the last moonshine (at least officially; not counting the few jugs Uncle Jesse had hidden in the root cellar for parties and medicine) left Duke land.

Cooter headed for home too then, giving Enos a ride back to town. And Uncle Jesse, Luke, and Bo all crowded in with me into the pickup’s cab. It was close quarters, but more cozy than anything else, certainly not uncomfortable. At least, not to us, who were sort of used to it. I found myself feeling suddenly incredibly tired in this warmth and safety, sandwiched comfortably between Uncle Jesse, who was driving, and Bo.

“Hey, Luke, Daisy?”

I looked over at my younger cousin, smiling. “What, Bo?”

Even in the moonlight, his dark blue eyes burned visibly with uncertainty, yet inexorable curiosity. “You were stuck in there for a long time, all alone. We weren’t even sure where you were… Did you get scared?”

I leaned forward and looked past him at Luke. Our eyes met, and shared a message at the same moment. We both grinned.

“Yeah,” Luke said, “we did at first. But you know what?”

Uncle Jesse chuckled. “What?”

The two of us refugees looked at each other, and at the same moment proclaimed loudly, “There’s no such thing as monsters!” Then I broke down giggling, feeling amazingly lighthearted, and Luke started laughing too.

Bo frowned, looking back and forth between us, a little annoyed at our not making any sense. “Course not,” he stated with the certainty of the child he still was inside in some ways. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

Luke rested his arm around our younger cousin’s shoulders, still chuckling. “I promise we’ll tell you the whole story. Tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I yawned. “I just wanna go to bed.”

Bo finally shrugged, seeming to give up on us, and smiled at me. “You can rest on me, Daisy.”

“Thanks.” I yawned again and accepted the offer, leaning against his lean yet strong frame and closing my eyes. The dark little world around me was warm, felt safe, and I started to relax in the gentle swaying and bouncing of the pickup over the dirt road leading across the acres toward home.

It wasn’t very far to the house… but feeling content, happy, and safe, I decided there was nothing wrong with going to sleep anyway. There was nothing to be scared of. I’d faced my fears, as had Luke. And we’d both triumphed.

*Thank you, Lord,* I thought. Then I yawned once more, relaxed completely, and slipped into dreamland.

END

by: Sarah Stodola

NOTES — To picture this story completely, you have to understand a couple of things. The universe most of this happens in is a strange mix between Covington and the Hazzard of later stories. It is not the Hazzard you know, though it is a very real one. It is hilly country, with mostly dirt roads, and the town is small. But the climate, trees, etc. are very much Appalachian, hence the snow, and the farmhouse especially is like the one in those few episodes. (Which really is, by the way, two-story; Bo made that clear in “High Octane” when he talked about “coming down” when he was teasing Daisy and Miss Huntley in the kitchen.) Other details, however, especially about the house interior and community chapel, are unique to this universe and not in the television series at all. Also, a few important points — the boys never got put on probation, the Duke family still runs moonshine, and Rosco’s basset hound Flash is already there. So sit back, open your mind and heart, and come with me into a very complex, very wonderful, very real world. For this, my friends, is a true story, as well as I can tell it. Take it as you will, as fantasy, as not… but it is something that has become very dear to my heart. Our story starts one night in 1998, and 1978, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, and on Christmas Eve…

*****************************************************************

I’m dreaming. I have to be. Because I’m not in my room, not in my bed, not even in my own house. I’m somewhere else, somewhere strange yet also strangely familiar. I’m not even certain that I am myself. I feel more than see my surroundings, for I can’t quite see; it’s like everything’s blurred out. It’s… weird, in a way. But beautiful. Not in a physical sense, more emotional, but beautiful is still the best word.

It’s so quiet, the thought comes without my thinking it. So calm, I’m so relaxed. But, what else could I be, here in my home, with my family?

Wait a minute..! Suddenly I realize that I’m *not* really myself, not even in my own world anymore. I’m still a girl, though; young yet adult too. No older than myself, I think… Who am I?! I struggle, fighting against this strange mixture of two sets of thoughts and emotions, feeling almost as though I’m drowning!

Then, suddenly, I slip into this other place entirely, completely losing the one that my own body and mind are in, and with it the brief whirlwind of fear and confusion. Instead, different feelings fill me… and I am suddenly quite content to be where I am.

A CHRISTMAS TALE

Yawning slightly, I open my eyes and look around, a little puzzled. Why would I be confused about this, the place I’ve lived all my life? I must have dropped off into a dream for a moment there. What a weird dream, too! I smile inwardly to myself; the mind can do some funny things sometimes.

I’m home, of course I’m home. Where else would I be on Christmas Eve evening? As a matter of fact, I’m lying on my stomach near the fireplace in the living room. There’s a soft, worn fur rug under me, over the regular carpet. It’s warm in the room, so very comfortable. But I can feel the tinge of cold coming from the window. It’s snowing again outside, gentle flakes leaving wet spots on the glass every once in a while. I wonder idly how much we’ll get this time. It’s been falling off- and-on for the last several days, but never enough to do anything fun in.

I’m not alone here; I’m rarely really alone anywhere, to tell the truth. There is someone lying beside me, a dark-haired young man leaning on his elbows and reading aloud excerpts out of an illustrated guide to local history. It’s a Christmas present, one of the few that were under our tree. We just opened them half an hour ago, and the two of us have been looking over this one together. I glance up from the book under his hands to his face. He glances over at me at the same time, and smiles. Though his expression is simply light and friendly, his eyes are gentle, saying more than his words ever will; he isn’t often inclined to say his emotions out loud. Those eyes are so light blue that they could be called icy, and have on occasion by someone he’s unnerved with that cold threatening stare of his. But right now they’re too soft and warm for me to ever think of ice when I look at him.

Luke. He’s my cousin. But much more like a brother, especially since we’ve grown up together all our lives. I feel safe in his presence. He’ll always protect me, always take care of me. I trust him with my very life, and love him. As he looks back down at the book and points to a picture, commenting on something, I rest my head on his denim jacket-clad shoulder and close my eyes briefly. He’s… my hero, my protector, my friend. I feel like he’s big and strong and brave and will always be there. To put it that way sounds sort of childish, I know, but that’s exactly the way I feel. He’s my white knight who’ll always come to my rescue, my big brother. He is a bit of a paradox at times, though. I mean, I’ve seen him shoot down a deer with perfect accuracy and skin it, and not even flinch at the blood or anything, yet I’ve had him take care of me or carry me, like if I’m hurt or sick, and he’s always so gentle then. He’s a real conniver, a schemer, and maybe a little crazy sometimes, but… it’s hard to put into words, cause he’s just a *really* complex person. He’s my big brother. He protects me, holds me when I’m scared, helps me do things. And I love him.

He’s not the only one here. Another young man is lying on Luke’s other side, chin propped on his hands on the floor. Bo’s dark blue eyes are staring unfocusedly into the fire, not really paying attention to the rest of the world, daydreaming again. His eyes are usually open, free with all his emotions, but sometimes they can be deep and mysterious, and right now is one of those times. Sometimes he seems to live in an imaginary world half the time; even though he has a quick temper and a lot of energy, he does have his quiet side too. His blond hair looks about the same as it did when he got up this morning, tousled after a day of running his hands through it. Of course, what else is new?

Bo and I have a unique relationship, in a way. We’re buddies, best friends. He’s someone I play with, share all my secrets with, and sometimes go a little crazy with. I mean, we’re the ones who’ll race down a dead-end road to see who can jump their car farther across the gully. We’re also the ones who’ll leap into trouble without thinking first, and usually end up getting bailed out by our older cousin. He’s the energetic one who’ll start a snowball fight for no good reason, or a water war in the summer, and I’ll almost always retaliate. We’re also almost twins! I say that because he’s only two days younger than me. My birthday is November 14th, his is the 16th. Weird, but neat, huh? We often share a party on the 15th; as a matter of fact, Uncle Jesse and Luke got a special surprise party together when we turned eighteen just over a month ago. And though his hair is blond and mine brown, we both have the same unusual dark blue eyes. That, combined with our living together and having the same last name, is enough to make out-of-towners think we’re siblings even if they don’t guess we’re twins, and that Luke is our older brother. In a way, they’re closer to the truth than not, because we have grown up that way. But by blood, the three of us are only cousins. Of course, by blood sometimes doesn’t seem to mean much; we’re all just one close-knit family. And I honestly love it.

The entire atmosphere is one of warm peace. I know who I am now, know everything, as though I’d never, briefly, forgotten. My name is Daisy. Daisy Mae Duke. I live in Hazzard County, in northern Georgia, on my Uncle Jesse’s farm. It’s been my home, a home I never want to leave, since before I can remember. I can still smell the turkey we had for dinner, the cinnamony flavor of the cider simmering in its pot on the back of the stove. The light scent of pine from the tree fills the room as well, as does the apple-cinnamon-oatmeal-raisin smell of the cookies baking in the oven. I can feel the dry heat from the fire, feel the softness of the rug under my hands and poking through between my fingers. I see the little colored lights on the tree in the corner glowing softly. It’s somewhat dim in the room, but it’s a cozy, secure kind of dim.

I just feel so warm, so safe, so content. Nothing in the whole wide world is wrong right now. We have each other, we’re here at home together, and that’s all that matters.

Then a familiar voice comes to my ears, one that sparks memories of kindness and firmness, quick anger yet gentleness, all in one. A rush of emotion fills me as I think about it, a love so strong and deep that it almost brings tears to my eyes. I feel like I could never really voice what bubbles up inside of me from time to time. There aren’t words. The best I can do, with all my heart, is, ‘I love you, Uncle Jesse’. Something I can never quite say enough times to the man who rescued me when I lost my parents at a very young age, who took me in and raised me as if I were his own along with the two also-orphaned boys who have become my brothers, who has been both father and mother to us all. I know Bo and Luke feel the same way, though they show it differently. Luke doesn’t usually say anything, just sorta goes over to sit near Uncle Jesse from time to time with a magazine or something, being close without sacrificing his independent male ego. Bo has no such problem with openly showing affection, even though he isn’t that good with words; he just curls up next to our uncle on the couch and leans against him with that bright yet soft smile of his, eyes glowing happily.

“Cookies are done, kids, if you want some.”

Luke looks up, smiling slightly as our uncle comes over to sit near us in his favorite chair after setting the tray of cookies and cider down on a low wooden coffee table. Bo blinks himself out of his dream world to sit up and move closer to the table, snatching two cookies in one hand and a steaming mug with the other. The other two of us finally get up to go over and take our share of the snack too, before he eats it all, then settle on the floor, anticipating what will come next.

I watch Jesse open the old Bible he’s carrying, his callused hands rustling the pages as he searches for the right one. Our livelihood has always been in those hands, hardened by years upon years of farm work. But to three young children, they were and still are always full of love. Not always gentle, though; our almost-father can be rough with us when we disobey him, and we honestly fear his anger more than we do the law. After all, we can always escape from jail. We couldn’t from Uncle Jesse, even though physically it would be possible; we just respect him too much. But we all know that he loves us very deeply, and the feeling is returned wholeheartedly.

I smile, leaning up against Luke again. He shifts position, stretching a bit as he rests back against the arm of Uncle Jesse’s easy chair. I can feel his strength in the movement, the latent power in his muscular build, and relax trustingly in it. Like our uncle, he has his rough side, and can be a little bossy sometimes thanks to his time in the Marines, but Bo and I both look up to him, glad to have him as our leader, even when we do complain, because he always means well. Even though he isn’t one to say how much he cares out loud, his love is proven in how he’s willing to protect us no matter what. Luke has left the country, been to war, and has the strength and fighting skill to literally be able to kill with his bare hands. Yet he’s one of the most careful people I know, and maybe the least likely to get into a fight unless defending a family member or close friend. He has a very long-suffering temper, unlike me and Bo, who tend to blow up easily. He’s really the only one of us, I guess, who’s seen how evil the world can be. And as a result, he’s very protective of us. I think he’d literally die to keep us from being hurt. That thought is kind of scary, really, yet makes me feel so secure, so safe, that I never even imagine him not being there when I need him.

I think he does try to understand his more emotional cousins, though. He really does. He manages pretty well, too, to be honest. I know that guys always have trouble understanding girls, and Bo is… well, Bo is unique. He’s emotionally very open, almost unnaturally so. He’s very young at heart, very trusting, a trait that has gotten him into trouble before. He’s the bright point in all of our lives. Even when something goes wrong and things look mighty dark, he almost always has a joke or lighthearted comment to make. Bo is not a complex person at all, almost the opposite of Luke. You can always tell what he’s thinking or feeling. It just radiates, almost. When he’s teasing, his eyes sparkle and dance. When he’s angry, he storms around like a thundercloud. When he’s gleeful or just really happy about something, he shouts. When he’s hurt or sad, he cries. You can almost look into his eyes and see right through them into exactly what he’s thinking. And Luke, I have to admit, does a pretty darn good job of understanding us both, despite how different from himself we are.

Uncle Jesse’s voice comes soft now, mixing with the quiet, beautiful Christmas carols coming from the old radio in the corner as he reads us the Christmas story, a family tradition. I cannot even imagine life without our white-bearded, stern yet kind father figure. Just like Luke and Bo, he’s always been there and always will be. I can’t even remember life before the farm, with my parents; that’s how young I was when they died. *This* is my family, my sole kin. And I’m actually happy with it being that way; I’ve never wished that my life could be different. I listen to the rise and fall of the familiar, comforting voice, closing my eyes and starting to drift. It’s just so warm… and I’m so tired. I yawn, sigh lightly, and relax.

The next, and last, thing I remember is Luke carrying me to bed.

<><>

The next morning, I burrow deep under my down quilt and squeeze my eyes shut when I hear Bo’s voice coming down the hall. Sounds like he’s getting everybody up. That’s normal, and the protests from Luke are also normal. Just a part of everyday life at the Duke farm. Without our little, somewhat silly, I admit, traditions like this one, life might get boring. But as it is, with the four of us half-wild characters all living in one house, there’s no such thing as boring!

I hear my door fling open and brace myself as Bo lands beside me on my bed, just barely missing landing *on* me, and snatches my pillow away. I grumble and pull the quilt over my head, only to have him jump off the bed and haul the covers off. I yelp and shiver briefly as the cool air in my room hits my skin, even through my flannel pajamas.

“Daisy!” he laughs. “I know you’re awake, get up! We’ve got enough snow to play in!”

That gets my attention. I bounce up and out of bed, and run over to the window to look out. Oh, wow! Bo’s right! There’s a good foot of snow, with deep drifts over the pickup and tractor and against the side of the barn. The early morning sun glows and glimmers off the snow crystals, making it look like a winter wonderland. I laugh out loud, my cousin-brother’s simple joy infectious, and spin around to shove him toward the door. “Out! I gotta get dressed.”

After he runs out and I shut the door, I yank my closet door open and grab a light purple sweatshirt off a hanger, and a pair of dark blue jeans off another. I pull the clothes and some socks on quickly, hunting for my belt and finally finding it halfway under the bed, then brush my straight brown hair as quickly as I can and run downstairs, where most of our house is. Only the boys’ room and mine are upstairs; the rest of the second floor is a large attic. Even Uncle Jesse’s bedroom is downstairs, off the living room.

I swing around the corner and veer sharply to the right to avoid the table; our staircase is merely a narrow passageway inside the west wall of the kitchen. Luke’s already there, sipping at a steaming cup of coffee, and he smiles good morning at me. I grin back. With his free hand, he’s pulling on his jacket, a dark green coat of a heavier weight than his normal denim one; his boots are already on. I grab my boots from next to the kitchen door, just as Bo bounds down the stairs after me. My blond cousin grins at both of us.

“Good morning, everybody!” he sings cheerfully, grabbing his dark blue jacket and putting it on quickly before reaching for his own footwear. I have to grin back; not only is his attitude infectious, but he looks funny, hopping a little on one foot as he pulls a boot on the other. He obviously has energy to spare this morning. I notice that he’s wearing the same gold-and-brown plaid shirt and blue jeans that he was yesterday. Luke’s in solid blue, except for his coat. Course, what else is new? That’s his favorite color. I’m not sure I have a favorite color; I like ’em all. My own jacket is tan.

Luke finally sets his mug down, and the three of us head outside together. I laugh out loud as Bo trips on purpose on the porch steps to fall into a drift off to the side, and comes up shaking snow out of his hair and giggling. Luke grins, shakes his head, and aims for the barn.

We’re supposed to be doing chores. Like milking the goat, gathering eggs, and getting some more firewood from the stack the boys cut earlier this summer. But, c’mon, chores have gotta wait when there’s snow to be had!

I close my eyes for a few seconds, breathing in the crisp air. It almost hurts my chest to breathe it in, but not quite. Good and cold; this snow won’t melt today. I run my hand through a cold white drift up against the porch, then scoop some up and form it into a ball with my hands. Looking around, feeling a bit mischievous, I aim for the first person I see — Bo. I cock my pitching arm back and throw. I always have had good aim; I’m right on target, and he drops the wood he was picking up, diving behind the woodpile. He comes up over the top with a barrage of three snowballs thrown in quick succession. One strikes me in the shoulder. Well, now it’s war!

I run, ducking another snowball, and hide behind the big oak tree in the center of the yard. “I’m gonna get ya!” I yell, giggling despite myself.

“You started it!” he yells back, and we both start ducking and throwing in earnest, Duke competitiveness coming to the fore. Neither one of us wants to lose this battle.

“Hey you guys, don’t hit me!” a third voice calls. I peek out from behind my tree, tossing another snowball Bo’s way just to hold him off for a split second, to see Luke heading for the porch with a pail of milk. “Ain’t you supposed to be doing your own chores?”

“Um, yeah,” I start, but then have to dive for cover again from another snowball. I return fire. “Later!”

“Well, it’s your fault if you get in trouble.” But our older cousin pauses, watching our snow war, with a look of almost comical indecision on his face. Finally he sets the milk down on the porch and makes a flying parody of a swan dive into a snowdrift. He comes up all white and laughing. Uncle Jesse pokes his head out the door, looks at all of us, smiles and shakes his head, and comes out to rescue the milk before it gets knocked over. He and it disappear back inside.

Bo sends a couple of snowballs at Luke, and he retaliates. I use the moment of peace on my front to build up my arsenal, then leap out from behind the tree, tossing snow as I go, to dive into the drift that covers the tractor sitting over to the side. I bury myself down deep under the machine and wait.

I don’t have long to wait. I see a pair of jeans coming. That’s all I *can* see, but I know it’s one of the boys. I tense, waiting for just the right moment. Almost… Whoever it is pauses in his careful approach, turns as though looking around.

I pounce, leaping out from under the tractor to hit my victim squarely in the midsection! It’s Luke. We go flying into the snow, and he twists around so he’s lying on his back, mock- glaring up at me. “Daisy!”

“What?” I tease, sitting on his chest with my fists on my hips. He could throw me off easily, but he rarely does, even when I beat up on him a little. Of course, when I do, it’s never on purpose to hurt him; it’s just that we can all get rough when we play.

Uncle Jesse opens the door again. “Boys, Daisy, I need some eggs for the baking!” he calls.

Uh-oh. I forgot. The eggs were my chore. That and feeding the goats and horses their morning grain. I scramble up off my cousin and run for the barn. My feet move from crunching snow to damp, straw-covered dirt just a few steps under the roof. It smells good in here, too, the smell of warm milk, hay, and animals. One of the horses whinnies at me, and I pat him on the neck. “Hi, Caesar. How’re you doing?”

The big gray draft horse snorts and paws the ground in his stall, shaking his lighter gray mane. He wants breakfast, and he wants it now!

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” I feed him and the other animals, then go into the small area where the chickens lay their eggs. I slip one hand under a hen and find a little pile, small and hard and warm. She clucks nervously at me and cocks a baleful red eye as I pull my hand out from under her soft feathers with her entire clutch of four. I chuckle and stroke her back with my other hand while slipping the eggs into my coat pocket, shaking my head slightly. Only a chicken would try to hatch a brood in December.

I leave the barn with both pockets full of breakable cargo, holding up both hands and calling to any boys that might be laying in wait, “Don’t hit me! I’ve got eggs!”

“Aw!” Bo stands up from behind the woodpile and slaps his leg with one hand in frustration. “Shoot, and I was just gonna get ya too!”

I give him a sassy little smile and toss my hair back. I’m feeling admittedly cocky, so I saunter right past him, not looking back. He wouldn’t dare.

A snowball hits me hard right between the shoulder blades, and I spin around to glare at the culprit. He wasn’t supposed to do that! Bo just giggles. He dared.

“Breakfast!” Uncle Jesse calls from the briefly-opened kitchen window, and we all head for the porch. I make it through the door first, giving my uncle the eggs then taking off my coat. Bo is right behind me, still giggling uncontrollably. I give him an annoyed look, thinking about how easy and tempting it would be to reach out and tickle him in revenge. He’s asking for it.

Luke comes in behind him, something in one hand. He winks at me, putting a finger to his lips for silence, and tiptoes up behind Bo. The blond boy has just hung up his jacket, and Luke suddenly reaches forward, grabs, and dumps a handful of snow down the back of his shirt. Bo yelps, eyes wide in absolute startlement that quickly becomes tinged with anger, and spins on our older cousin, chasing him out of the kitchen through the wide doorway into the living room. A few seconds later, they streak back in, Luke fleeing for the stairs. But he’s grinning, not one bit repentant. I fight to hide a giggle; it *was* funny.

The boys disappear upstairs. The floor sounds like it might cave in. I think they’re making flying leaps up there, and I start laughing. Uncle Jesse sighs and looks at the ceiling. From the look in his eyes, I wonder if he’s looking toward the boys or praying for patience.

“C’mon, you two, cut it out before you tear the house down!”

There’s some more pounding, then Luke comes bounding down the stairs, still smirking. Bo’s still hot on his tail, pulling a dry t-shirt over his head as he comes. “I’m gonna get ya for that!”

Jesse reaches out and catches one boy with each hand as they try to go by. “Calm down and sit down, both of you!”

Still glaring at Luke, Bo slides into his place beside me. “But Uncle Jesse..!”

“No buts. I don’t even want to know what started this. Just sit down.”

Bo shuts up, but is still glaring across the table as we bow our heads to pray over breakfast. When I open my eyes, I grin. It’s my favorite, oatmeal with honey and cream, and all fighting is forgotten for a little while. We’re all hungry, and this meal tastes good. The chase can wait for later.

<><>

It’s after lunch now. Uncle Jesse and I are in the kitchen, talking as we finish up the last of the Christmas baking. He pauses in stirring the batter for a fruitcake to check on the one in the oven. I reach out quietly, behind his back, and dip my finger in the bowl. Uncle Jesse’s fruitcakes taste so good. None of those fake or candied fruits that I’ve seen in the stores in Capitol City; just real fruit, nuts, and raisins, with some spices added in. Even I don’t know the recipe, yet, anyway. It’s our uncle’s secret, just like his shine recipe. And just as famous locally, though not illegal. Good thing too; we make both for other people. It would be hard to have to face revenuer trouble from two sides! I giggle as think about that silly idea, and reach to get another taste of the sweet but not too sweet batter.

“Oh, get out of there,” Uncle Jesse chides me, though gently. He turned around just in time to see my second move for the bowl, and I pull my hand back, smiling guiltily. We can never keep anything from our uncle, even when we try. It’s like he reads our minds. “Wait for it to at least get baked,” he chuckles, waving wordlessly at what I’m supposed to be doing with raised eyebrows.

I lick my finger clean and turn back to putting layers of cookies in a tin, with paper in between so that they won’t stick together. “But it tastes good this way.”

Uncle Jesse just makes a noncommittal sound, and we both lapse into silence as we work on our respective tasks.

The kitchen is warm, and smells good. The sunlight that comes out from the clouds every now and then to throw bright beams through the window brings a cheerful air to the place. I steal a cookie for myself as I pack the top layer and put the lid on the last tin, then I put it on the floor on top of several others, just in time for Bo to come through the doorway and pick them up, carrying them back out to the living room. The boys are wrapping the tins of cookies, and plastic-wrapped loaves of bread and fruitcakes, in colorful paper for gifts. Our family doesn’t really have all that much money, despite an occasional moonshine run. Jesse used to be, and still is, the best shiner around. But since we kids have gotten old enough to get in trouble if we get caught while on a run for him, he doesn’t fire up the old still all that often anymore. When he does, though, it’s kinda fun, sneaking around the woods and outwitting Keller, the local ATF agent. It’s more of a game between us Dukes and him than real seriousness. I don’t think he’d really want us to get caught and put in jail; most of the time, we’re good friends.

But even without the shine money, we are better off than some, so we tend to go on a baking spree every Christmas. Of course, other people do too, as well as sewing and making things out of wood, etc., so it all evens out. Everybody gets something from pretty much everybody else in Hazzard; we’re a small, close- knit community. What makes it even more special is that a lot of the gifts are personal; handmade, not store-bought.

“Why don’t you go help the boys?” Uncle Jesse nods me toward the doorway when he sees I’m done. “These last two fruitcakes are for us. This one in the oven’ll be done real soon now, and I’ll bring some out, how about that?”

“They’ll love it,” I smile, and snatch a small plate of cookies as I leave the kitchen. Truth is, I’ll love it too. It’s just that they’ll eat most of it. I sigh, looking at the ceiling with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Boys! They eat everything in sight! But, you love ’em. You can’t help it; they’re so funny, and protective too, especially when they’re your cousins. Sometimes it bugs me, when they get in a fight at the Boar’s Nest to defend my honor and I’d rather just back off and forget the whole thing. But I do love them, and I know the way they sometimes hover is because they love me too. I have to admit, there are times when having them around makes me feel a whole lot better about being somewhere rowdy.

Luke wordlessly tosses me a roll of tape as I come through the doorway, and I catch it with one hand, still holding the plate in the other. I put the cookies down on the floor between the boys and where I sit down crosslegged, and they both reach for the plate at the same time. I take another cookie too, and pull a metal pan with a cinnamon bread loaf in it out of the waning pile of unwrapped goodies. I balance the pan on one knee and reach for a smallish piece of red paper to cover it in.

We don’t say much, except to ask each other to pass things, but the silence is comfortable. It’s abruptly broken by Bo’s renewed teasing mood. Actually, maybe not renewed… I don’t think it ever went away. Luke looks up and asks, “Hand me the scissors, will ya?”, and instead of nodding, my two-days-younger cousin holds the item behind him, grinning widely. Luke makes a patient, ‘oh please’ face and leans forward to make a grab for the scissors, but Bo switches hands, grinning even wider and starting to giggle now.

Luke sets his lapful aside and makes a dive for the blond tease, but Bo switches hands again. Luke grabs his wrist, but he doesn’t get a good hold before Bo’s free again, scrambling backwards across the floor with the scissors. Visibly annoyed now, Luke makes a flying leap for him, almost a football tackle from his knees.

Just then, Uncle Jesse comes through the door. His dark blue eyes widen, and he yanks the beginning fight up short like a dog on a leash, using nothing but words. “Bo! Luke! Cut that out before someone gets hurt!”

Both boys obey, and Bo finally hands over the scissors. Luke glares at him, but not hotly. It’s almost like today we just can’t really get mad at each other. Christmas spirit, maybe? I dunno, but it’s a nice thought. We finish up the last couple of gifts, then Uncle Jesse sends us all off, shaking his head.

“Just get on out of here,” he says good-humoredly. “Why don’t you take some things to Cooter and Rosco and Enos in town, then take the rest of the afternoon off. It *is* Christmas.”

We all get up and stretch thankfully. I hug Uncle Jesse before going to get my coat, and both boys do the same, arms briefly around each other’s shoulders as well as they follow me. I have to smile, watching them grin and joke with each other as though the brief fight had never happened. Warmth and happiness rises up inside of me again, until I feel like I must be glowing with it. We really do have so much. Sure, not in the way of money, though we always have just enough, but we have each other’s love, and that’s very special to us all. We also seem to be a very tactile family. Unlike some people who don’t seem to like contact of any sort, we are always touching, whether in a hug or just a fleeting brush of a hand as we pass. It’s almost like… like we’re constantly, even unconsciously, reassuring ourselves that we’re all still here and still okay, or something, though I know that sounds a little silly. Me and Bo are especially that way, but Luke, even though he wouldn’t admit it, does a lot of reaching out when he walks past to brush a hand over my hair, or to ruffle Bo’s. I think that, down deep, somewhere hidden inside, he needs that quick touch and smile just as much as we do.

The boys and I grab our jackets off of the coat hooks on the wall just inside the front door. Then the three of us pick up a gift apiece and run out to the General Lee.

Our General Lee. The fastest and most colorful car in the Tri-Counties. Maybe in all of Georgia. His bright orange coat really shines against the snow when I help Bo pull off the tarp that’s protecting the car from the weather; with the doors welded shut for racing, there’s no such thing as rolling up the windows unless you’re inside. That’s what we have to do when we wash him, one of us getting inside and closing the windows so the others can use the hose.

The last of the tarp, on the top where we’ve rolled it up around the snow on the roof, we now shove off to reveal our proud Rebel flag. The colors there seem to glow, too. I give a quick glance over at my jeep, Dixie. I’m stuck with riding in the General for a while; I forgot to put her in the barn or put a tarp over her last night before the snow, and the open interior is filled with small drifts. I don’t really have any great wish to scrape it all out, either, right now. Maybe I’m being lazy, but who cares? I guess I’ll just have to do a bit of cleanup when it melts. Oh, joy. I’m really *not* looking forward to that.

The slight wind is really cold against my face, in comparison to the heat of indoors, but I quickly grow accustomed to it. Luke wins the brief coin toss between the boys as to who’s going to drive, and Bo holds my package while I slide into the center seat. Then I take both of ours as he jumps in, sandwiching me warmly, securely, between both my cousins. Then Luke starts the engine, which comes to life with a sudden loud roar-growl. No silent car, is our General. He tells his speed and power to the world. Pride rises up in me, as strong as what I would have for one of my cousins. I like my own jeep a lot — she’s *mine*, and a great off-road mover; of course, that’s not to say she isn’t fast too — but even to me the General seems to have a heart.

Uncle Jesse waves goodbye from the porch, and we all wave back, then Luke pulls out of the yard slowly, pushing the soft snow out of the way with the nose of the powerful car. Once we pull onto the main road, he hits the gas. No, don’t worry, not like in the summer. We don’t want to skid if we hit ice. But we’re going as fast as we can safely. It’s good footing for now; the snowplow has been through here. If it hadn’t been, we would be taking the pickup. The General’s not a low-rider, but he’s not built all that high off the ground either.

“Where’re we going first?” Bo asks.

Luke shrugs. “Where do you wanna go first?”

I smile. “Well, I bet Cooter and you two are gonna want to talk. So probably our boys in blue first.”

My older cousin grins. “Well then, to the police station. It’ll be a change to be there when we ain’t stayin’!”

We all share a laugh at that. We’ve been to and from, in and out of, that station so many times that I can’t even count ’em. We’ve even been in and out of the jail! And the ‘out’ part not always legally. Though the ‘in’ part wasn’t always, either. I have to admit, we’re all accomplished jailbreakers. We’re rather proud of it, yet, should we be? Sometimes I wonder. The fact doesn’t seem to hurt our friendship with Enos, the lone deputy, much though. I’m glad… I hide a little shy smile.

We’re coming up to where the road crosses Calamine Creek. Luke swerves slightly so that we’re off the road, but still paralleling it, on the shoulder where the plow truck has still packed the snow down. Bo looks over past me, frowning as though he’s going to ask what Luke’s doing. I have an idea, but I’m not sure it’s safe..! Suddenly, our older cousin puts the accelerator down, grinning tightly and shouting “Yahoo!” as we hit the slight rise of the streambank and take off!

My first, fleeting, thought is that the wooden bridge *is* probably slippery, but that this leap is really born more out of fun than care, cause we could slip when we come back down. But then I push the thoughts away and laugh out loud, enjoying the feeling of being airborne. Luke’s a good driver, and I put my life in his hands, or Bo’s, in this fashion almost every day.

I love jumping! Actually, that’s… not really the word for it. It’s not just a jump; I’ve done little jumps coming over the top of a hill in Dixie, though she doesn’t have the long, wide, low balance to make longer leaps like the General Lee does, and even in the pickup. This is more like… flying. Just plain flying. For a couple, long, seconds, General arcs up, and then levels off, and it almost feels as though we could just keep going in midair rather than coming down. Like he could spread wings… My whole being soars with my heart, and I catch a cry of mixed excitement and joy in my throat before it comes out. Then gravity catches up with our speed, pulling us back to earth. With a bit of a inner reluctant sigh, I brace for the landing.

The snow does make us skid a bit, but not too bad, and it softens the heavy landing. My heart is still up there, though, and as I look at Bo, I can see in his face that it feels the same for him. Flying like that is almost an addictive thing. He catches my eye and grins. I grin back, squeezing his hand.

“Great, huh?”

“Always,” he laughs, tossing his hair back.

Luke glances over at us, laughing, his eyes bright and dancing, but he doesn’t say anything. I lean my head on his shoulder in a quick, fond gesture, and we continue toward town, staying just slow enough to be safe, but no less.

Then I think of something, and start chuckling. Bo and Luke look at me. “Just thought of a song,” I explain.

“What?” my blond near-twin asks.

“The carol ‘We Three Kings’. Remember that one?”

The boys both nod. “Sure,” Bo replies. “Why?”

“Well, there’s three of us, and we’re bearing gifts.”

It takes a moment to sink in, then Luke quirks a little smile. Bo stares blankly for a moment longer, then grins, laughing. “Yeah!” Taking a deep breath, he launches into the song I just mentioned. Me and Luke join in after only a couple of words. I wince a little to myself. We sound pretty bad. But we’re having fun anyway, and by the end of the last verse, our voices are warming up, starting to show that we really might be a musical family. Which we are. We’re known as the Duke Family Singers locally, along with our friend Cooter.

We finish the next go-round of the song just as we pull into town, ending with a flourish and laughter. There are a couple of cars parked along the streets, but they’re empty. The whole place seems deserted, almost everyone at home with their families. Only the garage has an open sign, Cooter hoping for a bit of business from people getting caught in drifts or sliding because of ice, but I know that the local lawmen are here too. Their job means enough to them not to take the whole day off, though they officially do have the vacation time. Even for Rosco, it matters.

Luke pulls the General to a halt in front of the courthouse, and Bo, unwilling to move for some reason (who knows what, with him), pushes himself back into the seat so I can climb over him. Shrugging, I do, and after I scramble out and pull down my jacket, I take two plates of cookies and bound up the steps.

“Good luck, Daisy!” Bo calls teasingly. I spare a moment to look back and wrinkle my nose at him. Even Rosco wouldn’t chase us on Christmas without Boss around to tell him what to do. And Boss and Lulu are off visiting kin in Alabama.

I pause at the double doors just inside, unsure of whether or not to knock, and finally push my way in. I peer into the booking room to see both sheriff and deputy. Enos Strate is at a table in the corner scribbling down something fast and furious, though I wouldn’t have a clue what, and Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane is talking to his beloved basset hound, Flash. I love Flash too.

“Enos? Rosco?” I call out softly. Rosco’s head jerks up, and the graying sheriff blinks for a moment before smiling.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Daisy Duke! No trouble today!” he orders in what he thinks is a fierce tone. Hah. He’s an old softy inside; you can hear it every time he speaks to his ‘ ‘velvet-ears’. Or when he’s happy, like today.

“Nope,” I reassure him with a smile, holding up one plate. The sheriff’s eyes light up, and he comes out from behind his desk.

“Whatcha got there?”

We’ve got Enos’ attention now. I can feel his eyes on my back. I try to keep my mind on one conversation at a time. “Just something for you and Flash, Rosco,” I reply, handing him the gift. “Go ahead, open it.”

He tears into the paper like an excited child, grinning when he sees what’s inside. “Jit jit! Thanks! Here, Flash, try one of these.” The hound’s black nose is already quivering even before Rosco rips open the plastic wrap and takes out one colorful sugar cookie. I watch, hiding a grin, as he holds it up out of the dog’s reach and takes about half the cookie in one bite. His eyes light up, and as he swallows, he gives the other half to Flash. “Good, huh?” She just wags her tail, happily chewing and leaving crumbs all over the desk.

Leaving the pair, I finally turn to look at Enos. He’s stood up, but hasn’t come out of his corner really, as if he doesn’t want to bother Rosco. Always polite, unobtrusive; that’s Enos for ya. I walk over, halting about five feet away, and hold out the second plate wordlessly. His hand closes on the other side of it, and his eyes meet mine. I have to hide a shiver as I almost fall into those dark, warm pools, especially when he smiles, a little shyly. I want to tell him to stop acting like the only shy one in the county. I want to tell him other things, too… I always do whenever we meet. But I never do.

You see, I have more than a bit of a crush on Enos. I think he feels the same way about me, but I’m not sure, and if he doesn’t say anything, I won’t either. It’s the one thing I’m really shy about. For all my tomboyish stunts, I guess I really am a romantic at heart, huh? I… if I was a little older than I am, I would say I love him. Maybe I do anyway. Only thing is, I don’t really feel ready to really fall in love and get married, you know? I’m only eighteen, for goodness’ sake! And he’s only just turned twenty.

But still… when he’s ready, when *I’m* ready, I’ll be here, waiting for him.

“Thanks, Daisy,” he finally says, the smile growing a little wider. He takes the plate and looks at it, then sets it down on the edge of the table and undoes the paper neatly. Instead of tearing into it like Rosco, though, he smiles again, a happy, open almost-grin that makes me unconsciously respond in kind. “Really.”

“You’re very welcome, Enos.” I’ve gotta go. I know that. But I linger for a moment, just smiling back, before turning and heading for the door. My hand on it, I turn and wave. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Enos answers. Rosco waves a little absently as he flips through a stack of papers looking for something. Flash just wags, chowing down on another cookie behind his back. I hope the poor girl doesn’t get doggie indigestion by stealing them all. I wave again and leave.

Luke and Bo are both standing outside the General Lee now. The boys both meet my eyes knowingly, but gently, as I come back down to the curb. They know. I haven’t told them, I haven’t told anyone, but they somehow know anyway how I feel about Enos. Luke especially understands. There’s a girl, Anna, that he likes too. But she hardly knows who he is.

“C’mon, guys, let’s go over to Cooter’s,” Luke suggests. Bo and I start off together, and my blond cousin grins down at me, putting an arm around my waist. I do likewise, and grab Luke’s hand with my other, pulling him over closer to us. He laughs a little, his other hand full of Christmas package, and that way we stroll down the street.

We all untangle ourselves as we go through the door into the garage; it’s a one-person opening. It’s easy to spot Cooter — he’s sitting in a chair, leaned back on two legs against the wall, with his eyes shut and Christmas music drifting from the radio on the table next to him. I almost think he’s asleep, but then he raises his head and smiles, dropping his chair back to all fours and standing up with his hands lightly on his hips. “Well, h’lo, all,” he greets us. “What’s that you got there?”

Cooter Davenport is a good friend of ours, as well as the best mechanic for hundreds of miles. Maybe in the whole South, at least in Duke opinion. The few years he has on us don’t really matter much, somehow. He still acts like a kid, and his round, usually beaming face will always be boyish. The garage is cool, with no heater, so he still has his beige down jacket zipped up. Sometimes I feel a little sorry for Cooter; he has no family that I know of, nowhere to go for holidays or celebrations. As a result, we Dukes have sort of adopted him.

“What do you think, Cooter?” Bo teases, snatching the gift from Luke’s hands and hiding it behind his back.

Cooter rocks back on his heels and grins, playing along in that easygoing way he has. “Well now, I daresay that’s not a piece offa the General to get fixed, or I wouldn’t be hearing him purrin’ so nice.” He had obviously noticed our arrival in town, and recognized the car by sound. Only Cooter.

“You got that right,” Luke joins in, hooking his thumbs through his belt and affecting a pose as casual as Cooter’s. He especially is close to our mechanic friend. Maybe because he’s a closer age, three years older than me and Bo at twenty-one. “Second guess?”

“Not any parts from the tractor. Cause it’s winter.”

“Yup. Wanna try for three?” Bo grins. “C’mon, Cooter, guess!”

He eyes all three of us, then breaks out laughing. “What is it?”

Bo holds out the colorfully wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, Cooter!” Luke and I nod agreement.

He whistles as he takes the gift. Handling it as though it were extremely breakable, he sets it down on the stained table, shoving aside the CB set, and watches us out of the corner of his eye as he slowly undoes the paper. He’s trying to keep us in suspense, and I can’t hold back a laugh. He chuckles back.

“Now, it ain’t gonna blow up or anything,” he says as though unsure, still teasing us. Bo shakes his head, grinning as widely as though he were the one receiving something special. Finally Cooter unwraps the loaf of cranberry-nut bread and looks up at us. “Thanks, guys,” he tells us sincerely, eyes glinting with something that might be hidden tears. He tries not to show things like that, but I see them anyway. I walk over and hug him, smiling.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner, Cooter?” I invite. I almost don’t need to; he comes every year for Christmas, as well as Thanksgiving, Easter, 4th of July, and half the days in between. But it’s still something kinda special to actually invite him, and his face lights up.

“Thanks, I will!” Grinning, he stuffs the paper in an already overflowing trash can and scrambles up the ladder to the loft overhead, the bread in one hand. Cooter has a farm, a small place that don’t grow much even though he’s proud to call it his own, but sometimes in the winter he camps out in the garage loft, where he has a bed, an old dresser, and a trunk for odds and ends, among a bunch of other things that I might call junk if they didn’t mean so much to him, like old fenders and license plates. I’ve been up there before; I know what it looks like. He stays here because he doesn’t want to get stuck down in his little hollow. Being snowed in is no laughing matter when you’re the only one who has a tow truck in the county, and it’s locked away in town. Only thing is, the loft isn’t all that warm. I wish there was something we Dukes could do to help.

Luke’s thoughts are obviously similar to mine. “Hey, Cooter?”

“What?” floats down the ladder.

“Why don’t you stay the night at our house? That way you wouldn’t have to drive back in the dark. We’d be glad to have you.”

“Yeah, you can stay in our room,” Bo chimes in. “I can sleep on the floor; I do it often enough anyway.”

Yeah; Bo tends to run on full speed all day, then sack out at night, sometimes even on the living room floor. I add my offer. “Wha’d’ya say, Cooter?”

He comes down slowly, and stands looking at us seriously. I can see he wants to say yes, but his pride is getting in the way. Cooter likes being self-sufficient, not having to rely on anybody. “Guys,” he finally says, “I appreciate it. I’ll think about it.”

Well, at least that’s something. “You are coming for dinner, right?” Bo queries.

The mechanic makes a playful face. “Of course I am. Miss Uncle Jesse’s cookin’? Not in a hundred years, Buddyro.”

Bo laughs. That’s Cooter’s nickname for him. “I wouldn’t either, unless I was on a camping trip with Luke or something.”

“Well, see you later,” Luke smiles at our friend, putting hands on my and Bo’s shoulders and gently nudging us toward the door. “Okay? The roads are good out to the farm; you won’t have to worry.”

Cooter nods. “Gotcha. Bye, guys.”

We all wave, then head outdoors. I look at Luke as we go back down the street toward the General Lee. “Luke? Why’d you send us out?”

“Because I think he kinda wants to be alone for a while,” my older cousin answers quietly. “He doesn’t want to show how much trouble he’s in.”

“Trouble?” That’s Bo.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I overheard Uncle Jesse talking to him on the phone yesterday. Seems like the mortgage payment this month, plus some extra supplies he had to buy, has taken most of his money. He doesn’t have a whole lot for food or anything. Jesse offered to help, but…” He shrugs expressively.

We’re all silent for a few steps, then Bo speaks up. “Why don’t we give him a surprise present? You know, a box of somethin’ to eat or somethin’.”

Luke nods. “Good idea.”

But I have another one. “It’s awful cold in that garage, fellas. I think we oughta help him there, too.”

He nods again, starting to smile. “Yeah. You’re right, Daisy. Look, we got that old electric heater in the barn, right? Well, we could just haul that out, make sure it still works, clean it up a bit, and drop it off at the garage so Cooter don’t know who sent it.”

“Probably oughta do the same with the food,” Bo suggests. “You know how prideful he is. He won’t take charity unless it’s dropped in his lap with no return address on it.”

“It ain’t charity,” I argue. “It’s called an act of love. Besides, it’s Christmas.”

We’re back to our car now. Bo heads for the driver’s side and swings his legs in, sitting on the door. “Well, he’ll see it that way.”

Luke gestures me in. “I know, I know. Let’s head back home and tell Uncle Jesse. We’ll figure something out.”

“We gotta do it before tonight,” I say, sliding through the window and scooting into the middle seat. We’re all involved in the service and pageant at church tonight, in some way or another, and wouldn’t be able to leave. Uncle Jesse is leading the children’s choir, Luke and Bo are going to be playing and singing, and I’m going to help with the distribution of homemade gifts. Our baking will be part of that.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. And if I don’t, Uncle Jesse will.”

I don’t see the answer myself, but I nod. “Right.”

Luke nods back, then slides through the car window, the last one of us in. He points ahead. “Let’s go, Bo.”

<><>

We head home and tell Uncle Jesse everything. Sure enough, he agrees with us wholeheartedly. He sits back, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

“Hmm. Sounds like a problem. You know Cooter; he’s as suspicious as a skunk.”

I sigh, drawing my knees up under my chin. I’m sitting on the hearth, toasting by the fire. I love snow, but I love being able to come in and get warm too. The boys both seem to agree with me; Bo has joined me by the fire, and Luke is fixing everybody hot chocolate.

He comes out from the kitchen, the handles of four mugs looped through the fingers of one hand and a thermos in the other. “I know that, Uncle Jesse. That’s why we need your help.” He sets the cups on the coffee table, fills each one from the thermos, then hands them out carefully so that the cocoa doesn’t spill. I accept mine gratefully, wrapping my fingers around the new source of heat. Luke sits down on the couch after he gives Uncle Jesse his drink. “You see, we have to have him out of the garage in order to get the stuff in. And I figure that the only way to get him out of the garage without him getting suspicious is to get him out doin’ his job.”

I frown slightly. “But it’ll take longer to get there, get everything set up, and get away again than just a twenty-minute tow call. It takes fifteen minutes just to get to town!”

“I know.” He looks straight at Uncle Jesse with those piercing eyes of his. “That’s why I figure one person can’t do it alone. You got any buddies willing to help out with a good- neighbor shuck-n-jive, Uncle Jesse?”

Our uncle smiles slowly, nodding his head. “I bet so. There’s a lotta ridge-runners that owe staying out from behind bars to Cooter. He keeps all their cars runnin’ tip-top, and once he even towed ol’ Henry Ferguson out of a ditch when the revenuers was comin’. I’m sure he’d help.”

“Great!” Bo grins. “I gotcha now, Luke. We’ll get more than one call out, and Cooter will be out for at least an hour!”

“You got it,” Luke nods. “So, you think you could rouse anybody?” he returns his gaze to our uncle.

Uncle Jesse seems to think about it for a moment, then nods and starts to get up. I spring to my feet and run to bring him the telephone before he finishes the move. He smiles almost amusedly as I lay it in his lap. “I could try,” he agrees, picking up the receiver and starting to dial.

We kids crowd around as he reaches one old friend and tells him what we have planned, then calls another, who isn’t home. The third number reaches a man who would love to help, but his truck’s broken down, the fourth, the Henry Ferguson talked about earlier, agrees readily, and the fifth and sixth phone numbers Uncle Jesse can remember offhand also gain eager helpers. Finally Uncle Jesse puts down the phone and grins around at us.

“Well, kids,” he says, “I think Cooter’s gonna wonder what hit him!”

We all laugh.

<><>

It isn’t three hours later that we set our plan into motion. The only reason we waited that long is because it took so long to get the stuff we were gonna put in Cooter’s ‘present’, as we’d started calling it, together. Uncle Jesse got a big summer sausage and a block of cheddar cheese that we’d had stored in the naturally-refrigerated root cellar out, and I baked some homemade bread. We talked about putting some cookies in there, but our normal Christmas baking is too distinctively Duke. We don’t want our friend figuring out who sent the package. Uncle Jesse also found a couple of extra blankets we had sitting around that we weren’t using, and we decided that those would be good in the package, too. That started me thinking, and I managed to find an old sweater of Luke’s in the mending basket that only had one hole in one sleeve. I sewed that up easily, and tossed it in on top of the blankets.

While we two messed with the homey comforts part, Bo and Luke dug the old heater we’d talked about out from under a pile of junk in the barn and got started on fixing it up. It didn’t even work at first, but after a while of tinkering and quiet talk in the middle of the kitchen floor, it purred beautifully. Then I shooed them outside onto the porch to spray-paint it gray; I didn’t want that stuff getting into anything edible. They did bring the heater back in when they were done, though, to dry it by the woodburning stove that we have in a corner of the kitchen, the reason the upstairs stays at least mostly warm. It isn’t as pretty or cozy-feeling as the fireplace, but it actually puts out more heat and therefore is better for a quick-dry. While that sat, Bo found some garland and a couple of wreaths in the back of a closet, where I had brought them home from the Boar’s Nest after last Christmas and promptly forgot they existed. He was so excited about dressing the garage up that no one could tell him no, even though it would take up some precious time. Besides, it would be a fun surprise, I had to admit as I helped him put the contents of three paper bags all into one box.

But finally, everything is done, and we pack it all in the trunk of the General. The pickup would really be less noticeable, to be sure, but the racer’s faster. Then Uncle Jesse gives his waiting buddies a call, and we three cousins are on our way. We keep the CB tuned into the one channel everybody involved in this project is using, channel 23, and somehow Luke, who’s driving, times it just right so that we leave when Cooter responds to the first call, and get into town about the time of the second call.

“We’re doin’ great,” Bo says with a grin, holding up the watch Luke handed him at the beginning of the ride so that he could keep an eye on the time. “Right on the button, Lukas.”

“Good,” our older cousin replies shortly, tempering his tone with a quick smile. “Let’s do what we have to do as quick as we can and get out with time to spare, if at all possible.” He pulls to a gentle, quiet stop in front of the garage, and Bo hops out to open the doors for us to drive inside. Then my blond cousin quickly swings them shut after us, and I scramble out, as does Luke.

“What do we do first?” I ask, trying to contain my excitement. This is fun, pulling this off! And what makes it even better is knowing that we’re helping someone we care about.

“We’ll split up. Daisy, you do the upstairs. I’ll handle the food and heater, and we’ll let Bo here do the decorations.”

“Yahoo!” Bo grins, clapping his hands. The quiet shout echoes how I feel, and probably how Luke does too, though like usual he hides it. But I can see a glint in his eyes; he’s enjoying this as much as we other two are. He pops the latch for the trunk lid, and we get to work with a will.

I carry the blankets and sweater up the ladder to the loft, having a little trouble one-handed but making it nonetheless. Unable to keep from giggling a little to myself, I put my load on a nearby footlocker and start to work stripping the bed and adding the extra blankets, then putting it all back together. Like the boys downstairs, I’m keeping an ear on the CB radio, and so I hear call number three coming in. Uh-oh. That means there’s only one left to go before Cooter comes back, cause Uncle Jesse can’t call in himself for a tow job. Cooter’d wonder why we kids didn’t just pull him out instead. Hurriedly, I finish remaking the bed and throw the sweater across it, then half-slide down the ladder to the floor below.

“I know, I know, we gotta hurry,” Luke nods at my expression. He’s helping Bo tack up garland, standing below his stepladder and untangling the gold-fringed strands. “Hey, help here, will ya? This is the part that’s taking the longest.”

“I ain’t slow!” Bo defends.

Our older cousin just smiles, partly amused but not unkindly so. “I didn’t say you were, I just said that it takes longer to do decorations than set boxes on a table. C’mon, Daisy, grab a hammer.”

I do, as well as a couple of tacks from the small box set on the General’s roof, and eye the garage for the best places to put up the wreaths. “It’s gonna look real nice when we’re done, though.”

“Uh-huh. C’mon, start!”

Making a slight face, I shrug and pick up one of the green circles with a red bow, carrying it over to the door. I grab a chair to stand on, seeing as I can’t reach by myself, and loop it over a nail that was already there. That wasn’t much work. I jump down and run over to get the other wreath, and dart into Cooter’s office to nail it to the wall there. I stand back and judge my work, then grin. Yep, lookin’ good. I run back into the garage. “I’m done. What about you?”

“Almost,” Bo tells me over his shoulder. “I need just one more tack.”

“I got one.” I pull the extra out of my jacket pocket, and stand on tiptoe to hand it up. He grins down at me as he takes it from my fingers, and I step back to watch as he deftly taps it into the wall to pin the long garland and the other end to the wall together where they overlap. There’s about ten feet extra, and Bo pulls out his knife to cut it off, making a smooth, unbroken trail of gently-looping shimmery gold around the garage. I have to admit, however carefree and seemingly careless my blond cousin is, he does have an artistic eye.

“Good, we’re done.” Luke scoops up the extra and jogs back to the General Lee, slamming the trunk lid shut on it. “Let’s go.”

Not a moment too soon, either; the fourth and last call has just come in. I hear Cooter ask the man what in the world is going on with everybody getting stuck in ditches this afternoon, and the reply of, “Huh? That’s funny.”

I cast a quick look around the garage, smiling, feeling warm and lit-up inside. Then I slide through the General’s window and scoot over to the middle seat. Bo’s driving this time. Luke runs to open the doors for us, then shuts them again once we’re through. He makes one of those flying leaps into the car that only the boys can do, saying, “Let’s go!”

Bo pulls out of town nice and easy so that we don’t attract too much attention, but once we turn off onto the dirt road, he hits the gas and we shoot toward home, laughing about how Cooter will react when he sees the garage.

Uncle Jesse meets us at the door, smiling. “Get it done?” he asks.

“Got it done!” I sing back happily.

“Wait’ll Cooter sees!” Bo giggles from behind me. Luke gives him a glance, but then smiles a little.

“It does look good, Uncle Jesse,” he agrees, leading the way into the house.

“Some cider sounds good, too,” I say, heading for the kitchen. “It’s cold out there!”

Luke joins me at the pot on the stove, waiting for his turn to ladle out some of the hot apple drink. “Yeah, well, it’s better for driving than slush, that’s for sure.”

Bo comes up behind, with Uncle Jesse. “Uh-huh. Looks nicer too. And it’s more fun.” He reaches past me to grab his mug, from the towel on the counter where they’ve all been drying upside-down after being washed from the cocoa.

“Wait your turn!” I scold, slapping his hand back. He gives me a frown, but doesn’t say anything. I fill my cup and back off, turning to go back to the living room and let the boys argue over the pot. I sit down on the hearth, staring off into space, my mind wandering.

“Daisy.”

I look up and smile as Uncle Jesse sits down beside me. “Hey,” I reply softly, leaning my head against his shoulder.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

I shrug a little. “I don’t know. Everything. Just kinda relaxing for the first time today.”

“It has been a busy day,” he agrees with a returned smile and a raised-eyebrows nod. I sigh happily and close my eyes, still smiling.

“Yeah. I just feel like sitting still for a while.”

Uncle Jesse puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a light hug. I can hear the boys chatting in the kitchen; they’ve settled their dispute and are now talking about who they’re going to take to the New Year’s dance. A form of peace settles over the house, and I feel almost like going to sleep here.

But now isn’t the time. I sit up, brushing my hair back. It’s pretty tangled right now, but I don’t really feel like going upstairs and brushing it. I will before church tonight. “Hey, anybody gone out to feed the birds yet?” It’s a family tradition, in a way; every few days in the winter, we take some grain out to Possum Hollow and get mobbed by a flock of colorful birds. It’s fun, watching them argue and chase each other around for one piece of corn when there’s more than enough on the ground. Sparrows, chickadees, bluejays, cardinals, and others, as well as the occasional gray squirrel or chipmunk. I like just sitting still and seeing how close they’ll come. Once I even saw a deer.

“Not that I know of. You kids have been pretty busy,” Uncle Jesse smiles.

I stand up and stretch. “Then maybe I will.”

“I want to go too!” Bo slides into the room, almost falling when the fur rug in front of the fireplace slips under his feet. But he gets his balance back just in time and straightens, grinning. “Come, on, let’s go!”

“If you stay quiet,” I say firmly. Last year when we had snow, he started a snowball fight that scared all the birds away.

“Sure I will!” He almost looks hurt. “Look, I ain’t always running around.”

I sigh and smile, then shrug. “Fine. C’mon. Is Luke coming?”

“Why not?” our older cousin speaks up, coming from the kitchen a whole lot more sedately than my almost-twin. His stance in the wide doorway is casual, at utter ease, but his light blue eyes shine with almost as much pent-up energy as mine and Bo’s. But I know him; he figures that he has to be the calming effect on us. You know what? He’s probably right. “Let’s go.”

Stretching again, I pick up my jacket from beside me and follow the boys to the door. We get some grain from the barn, then get back into the General Lee to head out again. There’s no rest for the weary… especially when there’s just too much fun to be had to slow down now.

Bo pulls us out fast enough to spit some of the now-packed ice in our yard out behind. But careful despite his wild attitude toward driving, he slows down enough to keep the car under control, and to not let us slide into a ditch, either. That would be embarrassing, to say the least, getting stuck ourselves when we’d been using that idea for a shuck-n-jive all afternoon.

Possum Hollow ain’t too far away, and it doesn’t take long before we’re sitting on the General’s warm hood, parked carefully on the plowed road, not nosing into the snow. Periodically, somebody tosses feed onto the snow for our wildlife visitors, but no one says anything. I’ve moved in to sit between my cousins, comfortably warm and feeling like nothing in the whole world could go wrong right now. I tilt my head back to look up into the gray sky, feeling so peaceful inside… Slowly, I lean over against Luke, trustingly letting his strength support me, and glance over at the setting sun. Today is really something magical… it’s felt that way for the last few days. I almost don’t want it to end.

My mind is brought back to the here-and-now as my older cousin slides his arm around me, tightening briefly in a hug, then he reaches out behind me to squeeze Bo’s shoulder. My blond cousin grins over at him, and suddenly laughing out loud, startling the birds away in a sudden cloud of wings, he rolls backwards, off the General’s hood, to land with a plop in a soft snowdrift. He comes up giggling. Obviously, his nice-and-slow mood is gone. It’s okay though, I decide after a brief moment of anger at his frightening the birds; I’m feeling playful too now. I toss the last couple handfuls of grain out into the hollow, then turn and leap to land on Bo. Luke glances down, looking amused, as the pair of us wrestle around in the snow, yelling and shrieking like little kids. I finally leap up and start to run away, only to trip over my own feet and land face-down in another snowdrift. I hear laughter, and mock-glare up at my near-twin, spitting snow out.

“What’s so funny?” But I can feel laughter bubbling up inside me too, and bite to lip to try to hold it back.

“You are!” he finally manages, almost doubling over in hysterics. Eyeing him, I snap an arm out as fast as a snake strikes, grabbing his leg and pulling it out from under him. Yelping, he lands on his back next to me. Panting, we both lay still for a few seconds, catching our breaths, hearts beating hard from the exertion.

Finally I sit up and smile over at him. “You know what, Bo?” I say, feeling like there’s no better place to be right now than right here.

“What?” he grins, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

I look into his eyes, dark blue meeting equally dark blue. “You’re my very best friend.”

He pauses a minute, then grins. “I know. I feel the same way, Daisy. Except that I love Luke about the same.”

“I love Luke too. Just…” I shrug. “Different. Ya know?”

He thinks about that for a moment, then shakes his head. “Not really. I guess… I guess I’m just halfway between you and Luke. He’s a guy too, so he understands some things you don’t. But you and me really understand each other’s thoughts and feelings sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Without warning, I leap out of my snowdrift to land on top of him. He grabs my arms before I can tickle him, yelping anyway as if I had, and rolls us both over in one quick movement so that he’s pinning me down.

“Don’t tickle me an’ I’ll let you up,” he informs me.

“Hmm.” I pretend to think about that, then break out in a big, silly grin again. “No deal, bro.”

“Then I’ll tickle you!” His fingers are on my stomach before I can shove them away, and laughing helplessly, I kick and twist, trying to get away. But he’s a lot stronger than me, and holds me down easily.

“Luke!!” I finally plead at the top of my lungs. “Help!!!”

“Okay, enough now, both of you,” our older cousin’s voice cuts through, and we both still, breathing hard. I shove at Bo’s chest, and he finally lets me up. I sit up, making a face and brushing my damp hair away from my face. I shudder dramatically with cold just for the effect; I do feel a bit chilled, though. My hands, in the snow for so long, are starting to turn red, and my nose feels about the same way. I’m also kinda wet now, which makes it worse.

“I’m a mess!”

“You both are,” Luke sighs, but he doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time. He reaches down two hands from where he’s now standing near us, and we each grab one to help us up. “Come on. I know you’re havin’ fun, but we really need to get goin’ back home. We all need dinner and a shower, especially you two. We’re going to church tonight, or didja forget?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I didn’t.” But I scoop up a handful of snow and throw it at him, laughing. He ducks, but too late, and makes a face as he brushes at the white patch on his green jacket.

“Settle down, Daisy. And don’t you dare, Bo!” he points a finger to where my other cousin was about to copy my move. Sighing, but then gaining a silly grin, the blond starts for the car.

“Who’s drivin’?”

Luke heads for the driver’s side before Bo can get there. “I am. You’re too much of a nut right now. C’mon, get in.”

Sobering slightly, both of us obey and slide through the other window. But I still feel lighthearted inside… lighthearted but strangely soft and warm toward everybody, especially my family. I guess it’s just part of it being Christmas or something. I lean against Bo and he grins down at me, then I look over at Luke. As though feeling my gaze, he takes his eyes quickly away from the road to smile at both of us, reaching out a hand and laying it on my knee, then Bo’s wrist in silent affection.

The simple gesture makes me feel so good inside. I know he loves us… but I love it when he actually shows it. Smiling to myself, I decide that it’s time the silence be broken. Taking a breath, I start, softly, knowing the boys will join in in a moment, “Silent night, holy night…”

<><>

“All is calm, all is bright…”

I smile as I brush my hair smooth again after using the hair-drier; I was the last one through the shower. I love to hear Luke play and sing, especially when he thinks no one’s around to hear. There’s a presence, a richness, to his voice that isn’t there the rest of the time, no matter how well he does. It’s like he lets all barriers down, stops worrying about whether or not he messes up, and actually ends up doing even better. Or something. Whatever the reason, I love to listen to him.

I hum along quietly as I clip gold barrettes into my hair, in a style that sweeps the front part up and back then lets it fall down the back with the rest. I know it looks really cute on me, so I wear it whenever I want to look especially nice. Backing off from the mirror, I give my reflection an assessing glance, then smile. I turn to pick up my favorite sweater, red with little white snowflakes in a wide band across the middle to match my white turtleneck shirt, off my bed, pulling it over my head carefully so as not to mess up my hair as I go out into the short hall and knock on the next door down. Tonight, even though we’re going to church, we’re all dressing nice, but for the weather. That means lightweight thermal underwear, warm shirts, and new jeans. It’s the only time I go to church not in a dress. Course, it’s the only nighttime service, too. “Hey, Bo, can I come in?” I call.

“C’mon,” comes the reply, and I turn the knob and push the door open, to look into what is simply a rather comfortable mess. The beds are made, but there’s stuff in every corner, banners and posters, mostly of racing, on every wall, and there are clothes lying around here and there. The closet doors are also half- open, only partially hiding a pile of all kinds of stuff. I shake my head.

“Don’t you ever clean this place up?”

“Don’t have the time. Also, who cares?” Bo turns around from the closet, a grin on his face and arms spread wide. “Wha’d’ya think?”

I look close. Really, I do. But finally, I have to shrug. “What?”

Sighing, he seems to deflate, moving across the room to sit down on his bed. “Oh, c’mon, Daisy, don’t tell me you don’t notice anything.”

I frown and walk slowly over, trying to pinpoint something. “Well… You’ve got your new shirt on.” The one I made him for Christmas, a blue-and-green plaid flannel shot through with gold. I loved the fabric the moment I saw it in Capitol City, and knew he would too, so I’d bought it right then and there. It does look nice with his light blue jeans and the gold in his hair. “And you actually discovered the existence of a comb, but that’s nothing new before church.”

“I meant the first one, silly,” he grins, making a slight face at my hint that his hair is nearly always left untamed, the two exceptions being on Sundays and before a date. “I thought you might like to see me in it, ‘specially since you made it yourself.”

I have to smile. “Yeah. Thanks. You like it?”

He nods. “Fits good, thanks.” Then he goes distant for a moment, head cocked slightly and a slight smile on his face as he hears the music coming from downstairs. “Luke’s playin’.”

“I know. I had my door open; I’ve been listening to him.”

“Sounds good. I don’t think he’s gonna have any trouble tonight playing for the kids.”

I give him a funny look. “Ain’t you playing tonight too?”

“Yeah. I’ve been practicing off and on for the past week. But I ain’t as sure of myself as I am of him,” he gives me a slightly nervous smile.

I smile back reassuringly and squeeze his shoulder. “You’ll both do great. I know you; you’re both good musicians.”

He sighs, but his smile does gain a little more confidence. “Thanks. Luke and I do need to warm up together before we go, though. C’mon, let’s go down.” He’s up and moving for the door in the next second, and I follow him out of the room and down the stairs.

Luke is dressed nicely too, in a white shirt with blue jeans that just happen to exactly match the color of his denim jacket, which he also has on. He’s frowning slightly when we walk into the living room, tuning a slightly off-key string to just right. Bo goes over to get his own guitar out of its case in the corner, then sits down on the couch beside our older cousin. I perch on the arm of Uncle Jesse’s favorite easy chair, casting a glance toward his closed bedroom door.

“Okay,” Luke finally says when he’s satisfied with the string, giving the whole set a quick strum then cutting the sound off abruptly by clamping his fingers down over the neck. He glances up, proving that he knew we were there even though he didn’t show it. “You know ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ very well yet?”

“Okay enough,” Bo shrugs. “You lead, I’ll fill in.”

“Right.” With a brief, energetic intro, both boys launch into the song, their voices blending to my ears at least almost perfectly. I smile and slide down into the easy chair to sit sideways, just listening, not singing along. There are a few places where one or the other falters, but that’s to be expected when they haven’t been playing together much recently. They’re a good team, though, and I can hear them getting back into each others’ rhythm by the end of the second verse. Together, they finish with a flourish, just as Uncle Jesse comes out of his room, laughing and clapping.

“Well done, well done!”

The boys, both grinning, fake little bows, and I sit up to smile at our uncle. He’s wearing black pants and a tweed jacket, with his brown fedora. “Hey, you look nice, Uncle Jesse!”

He just smiles at me, then gestures. “Well, kids, you ready to go?”

Luke and Bo look at each other, then both nod, standing and heading over to get the cases for their instruments. I stand up too, not tired at all anymore. I think I’m running on my second wind by now. I grab everybody’s coats and hand them out as their owners come to the door, putting mine on last before leaving the warm, bright haven of the farmhouse for the icy breeze of the dark outdoors.

The guitars get well-wrapped in an old blanket and set into the bed of the pickup along with the boxes of stuff we’re going to give out tonight, everything wrapped in a tarp to keep it dry both from the snow coming down and that in the bed. Then we all pile in, Uncle Jesse driving. It’s not as easy a fit as when we were little, but if we don’t mind being in real close quarters we still can fit, and to be honest, we’re just plain used to it. I end up in the middle again, but I don’t mind; I usually do, just cause I’m the smallest. A girl of only five feet, five inches when I’m barefoot, I sometimes feel too small next to the rest of my family, who are all six feet tall or over. Sometimes, I just feel safe. Most of the time, I don’t even think about it.

The Hazzard community church isn’t really in the town proper, though it’s close, just inside the rim of the forest surrounding half the town (the other half looks out on a valley). When we pull up the short dirt lane and into the parking lot, the stained glass windows are glowing like Christmas lights, and the shouts of playful children echo off the trees. The murmur of women’s voices comes from just inside the chapel itself, and a loud male laugh rings out from across the parking lot, where a few of the local teenage boys are standing in a group. Bo watches them for a little bit as we unload the pickup, but doesn’t go to join them.

My cousins head for the front of the sanctuary to practice some more, and after I help Uncle Jesse unload our boxes and say hi to a few of the older ladies, I wander outdoors again since there aren’t enough gifts for me to help sort out yet. Standing on the porch for a few moments, I breathe in deeply the crisp, cold air and eye a few snowflakes that are drifting down lazily from the invisible sky. Is it snowing again? Might be. But, it don’t really matter. I hop down the steps and wander along the side of the building, listening to small groups of friends talking, and smile. I love Christmas, and always have. When I was little, it was the fun of the presents, and playing with all the other kids in the snow on our two weeks off from school, and being in the pageant. As I’ve grown up, I’ve learned to love the feeling of county-wide friendship that this time of year seems to bring, the warmth of doing things with and talking with others near a fire, singing along with whoever picks up a musical instrument and decides to play. But I’ve also learned to enjoy the silence of a snow-covered woods, the peace of being alone with the few small creatures that it would take a trained eye to see. Like that squirrel, there, running up his tree in the light of a window. Or the owl on that branch, with his eyes glowing softly in the dark.

Sighing contentedly, I put my hands in my pockets and stand still under an outdoor light. Another few flakes drift down, landing white on the red of my sweater. I shiver; I left my jacket at home, figuring I’d be warm enough in what I have on. I’d forgotten how much colder it gets when the sun goes down.

“There ya are.”

I turn to see Bo heading for me, plowing through drifts and hopping over a log. None of it slows him down, and he comes up to stand beside me, his breath white in the cold. “Hi,” I reply quietly.

“Whatcha doin’, Daisy?”

I look out again, shrugging. “Just walking. Thinking.”

“Yeah, I know how that is.” He leans back against the side of the chapel, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and looking up. “It’s snowing.”

“I know.”

He brings his eyes back down to earth to catch mine. “You ain’t very talkative.”

I shrug again, sighing. But I smile. “I guess I just don’t feel much like talking a whole lot. Nothing personal.”

“I know it ain’t.” His light tone tells me that he doesn’t mind my quietness, he’s just curious about it. My cousin looks upward again, then pulls his hands out of his pockets and holds them out to either side as if to capture the snow as he walks away from the building. He drops his hands finally and turns to look at me. “Wanna play?”

I shrug, and think about it. I’m not sure… but that glint in his eye tells me that he’s planning on striking first. I can’t let him do that… so I give my answer by scooping up a double handful of loose snow, not packed into a ball, and dumping it on top of his head as he bends down to get some ammunition of his own.

“Hey!” he yelps, then sweeps his hand up through a drift fast, right at me. I try to duck, but the loose snow scatters, and no matter where I moved, I wouldn’t have been able to avoid it.

Laughing, I return the favor, which starts a brief, fast- moving snow war. But in only a couple of minutes, my hands are starting to feel like ice, and I stuff them into my pockets, shivering.

Bo notices, and drops his handful of snow to come over to me, brushing his hands off on his jeans. Without a word, he takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders. It’s warm, having been held next to a body heat higher than my own, that of an energetic young male. I smile up at my cousin before returning his hug. I really do love him so much. I love Luke too, just as much. But Bo is different. He’s my best friend as well as my cousin and brother. I don’t look up to him and trust him without question like I do Luke. I don’t let him order me around, either. We’re equals. But I admit, sometimes an equal in family status can be someone I can depend on for strength or protection.

Together, we start walking back toward the front of the church, and I slip my arms into the sleeves of the coat, putting it on. For a moment by the porch, I look up, watching the ever- heavier snowfall. White projectiles zoom down out of the inky blackness into my face, and I laugh, throwing my arms up above my head as though to defend against them. At my playful gesture, Bo laughs too, batting ineffectually at the snow as if to send it my way. “Hey!” I yell, returning the pretend attack. But the game ends about as quickly as it started, and we bound up the steps to go inside, fleeing from the cold.

The ladies are setting gifts out in the foyer now, counting everything out so that everybody gets something from everybody. There’s about five families, including ours, that do this every year. They’re chatting as they sort, and Mrs. Kinley, a gray- haired grandmotherly woman, looks up at me. “Come on over, Daisy,” she offers with a smile.

I smile back and hesitate, watching Bo walk into the main sanctuary and up the center aisle to where Luke’s still sitting on the steps to the stage, changing a string on his guitar, it looks like. I almost want to go join them, but from the way my blond cousin drops onto the step below Luke’s and stretches his legs out with a casual little laugh at something our older cousin said, it looks like they’re kinda having some time between each other, time that the girl of the family doesn’t need to intrude upon. Besides, I was going to help here anyway. “Okay,” I finally say, going over to sit down and help the other ladies.

After a little bit, Uncle Jesse comes through the door, slapping snow off his hat and shoulders, with a couple of other men. They seem to be talking about farm equipment, and he smiles at me, brushing a hand over my hair as he walks past. I grin up at him, and give another glance into the main room, where I can see Luke and Bo still sitting where they were, but now talking with a couple of other boys, all four throwing glances every once in a while toward the corner where most of the girls my age are sitting together. I smile to myself with a lot of fondness but just a little bit of exasperation too, shaking my head. Boys.

I return my attention to my own project, feeling rather content just to be where I am, and break right into the middle of a conversation about apple pies with an idea for a flakier crust.

<><>

The children look so cute in their costumes, and sing pretty good, too. The boys play so well, and I’m so proud of Luke when he does his solo in the middle of the pageant. Like everyone else, I find myself captivated by the play. I lean against Uncle Jesse in our second-row pew, not saying a word except to sing when it’s time, but letting everything just soak into me. It’s a perfect end to Christmas, I think. I feel like the whole world is… beautiful, right now.

When everything is over and the lights come back up from their dim state, I blink against the brightness and stretch, up till now unaware of how stiff I was. Yawning, I look at Uncle Jesse, then stand up to move out of the pew, grinning and grabbing each of my cousins in a one-armed hug as they come toward me after snapping their instruments inside their cases. “Hey, it sounded great,” I tell them. Luke just smiles and nods, but Bo’s eyes light up with a grin. In their own ways, I can tell they’re both glad for the praise. I let go of them to let a family go past down the aisle, then turn to Uncle Jesse. “What now? We gonna stay for a while, or what?”

He turns his head from where he was smiling goodbye to a friend to look down at me. “No, sweetheart, I don’t think so. It did all my talkin’ earlier, and I think it’s just time to go home.” He checks his pocket watch. “It’s almost ten.” I try to hide another yawn, and he smiles as he tucks the watch away again. “See? You kids have been mighty busy today; you need to get to bed.”

Bo takes a deep breath and lets it out, then nods, agreeing with that sentiment. Then he smiles suddenly, pointing toward the back of the church. “Hey, it’s Cooter! C’mon, let’s go talk to him!”

He and Luke start off at a quick pace, and giving Uncle Jesse’s hand a quick tug, I follow. “Hey, Cooter!” I greet our friend. “I thought you were gonna come over for dinner. What happened?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I know I said I would, but I figured you guys had done enough for me already in one day.”

Bo blinks. “Wha’d’ya mean, Cooter?”

The mechanic gives us all a half-scolding look. “Oh, c’mon, I figured out your shuck-n-jive hours ago.” He laughs a little. “It was a pretty good one, I’ll tell ya that, getting all those old ridge-runners out gettin’ stuck so I’d have to stay away from the garage for a while.”

I realize that my mouth is hanging open, and close it self- consciously. “But… what… how did you know it was us?!” I finally manage to stammer.

Cooter gives me that ‘do-you-think-I’m-stupid?’ look of his. “I wondered what was going on this afternoon. When I got back to the garage, I knew why all those tow jobs came up at once. From there, it was just a matter of puttin’ facts together. One,” he counts them off on his fingers, “all those guys were ridge- runners, which meant that another ridge-runner was involved. Two, there was a girl involved from the bread and the bed and stuff. Three, it was somebody that liked me a lot. Four…” He pauses dramatically. “Only the Dukes are ridge-runners, have a girl in the family, are that close to me and knew of my financial problems, and can pull off that kind of shuck-n-jive.”

Luke quirks a little smile. “Guilty as charged, I guess.” But then he points a finger directly at our friend. “But you ain’t givin’ that stuff back. It’s our Christmas gift, Cooter. You’re our friend, and we’ll do whatever we can to help. And I don’t care if you got too much pride in you to let anybody do anything for you. We Dukes care about you too much to let you go without, no matter how much stubborn pride you got. Dukes can be just as stubborn as Davenports, or more, and you know it. If you’re gonna say no to help, then we’ll help you behind your back.” It’s a practical speech for Luke, which seems to startle Cooter more than anything. Whenever my older cousin says that much all at one time, and it’s not sung to music, it means that something’s really important to him. And Cooter knows it as much as I do.

“I wasn’t gonna try to give it back,” he finally says, a bit to my surprise. Cause I know Cooter. “I was gonna say thanks. Thanks for being enough my friends to help me even though I didn’t want it. An’ what makes it even more special is that I know it weren’t just cause it’s Christmas. Cause I know you’d do it for me anytime.” He hesitates. “Thanks, y’all,” he finally says, sincerely.

I feel a smile break out over my face. I feel so good inside… I step forward and hug our friend. “We love you, Cooter. Honest we do.” I kiss him on the cheek quickly, then step back to stand between my cousins. Cooter smiles almost shyly, as though embarrassed.

“Aw, c’mon, cut the mushy stuff,” he finally pretends to growl. I fight not to laugh; I know how soft-hearted the rough- and-tough mechanic is underneath. Then he looks over my head, and I turn to see that Uncle Jesse has come up behind me. “Jesse,” he nods respectful acknowledgment.

My uncle nods back in a friendly fashion, smiling. “We do care, Cooter. Now,” he points just like Luke had, and it’s obvious where my older cousin picked the gesture up, “why didn’t you show up for dinner? We even had a place set for ya.”

Cooter shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed but now for a different reason. “I figured you Dukes had done enough for me.”

“There’s never enough you can do for a friend. Now, we’re invitin’ you to lunch tomorrow. And you better show up or I’ll have the boys here drag you over in the General Lee.”

I can’t hold back a giggle at that. Bo laughs too, and Luke chuckles. “He’s right, ya know,” he nodded. “We will, won’t we, Bo?”

“Yep,” my blond almost-twin nods smugly, the hand that’s not wrapped around the handle of his guitar case on his hip. “We will.”

Cooter laughs out loud. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. I’ll be there.”

“Promise this time?” I demand mock-fiercely.

The mechanic steps back, hands up as if to defend himself. “Okay, okay! I swear I’ll be there tomorrow, on my honor!”

“Okay,” I nod, then break down in a grin again, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him into a hug. Bo grabs him the moment I let go, then Uncle Jesse squeezes his shoulder, and Luke shakes his hand with a warm smile that says much more than the action. Cooter’s looking not quite embarrassed, now… but the expression’s sorta similar. He’s glad to be the center of so much love, but not so sure he wants this display to be in public.

“I gotta go, guys,” he says, stepping backwards. “Thanks again, I’ll come for lunch tomorrow, and I gotta go get some sleep.” With a final wave, he turns and walks out of the chapel.

He’s not the only one thinking about sleep. I find myself yawning, suddenly feeling very tired, and I know that the second wind I’ve been living on all evening is just about to run out. I look up at Uncle Jesse, and he nods, recognizing my expression after having raised three children from a very young age.

“Okay, kids,” he says. “Time for us to go home too. Luke,” he hands him the keys to the pickup, “you boys go ahead and get the truck warmed up, since it’s so cold. Daisy and I will get our stuff.”

“Right, Uncle Jesse.” Luke and Bo leave together out the side door, not talking but still portraying a picture, to someone who knows them well, of two people very at-ease and familiar with each other, so much so that they’re able to communicate without saying a word. I’ve seen them do it, too; it’s really something.

Our uncle leads the way to the foyer, and I follow. We chat very briefly with the two ladies there keeping an eye on who gets what, then pick up the four colorfully-wrapped packages with our name on them (two flattish boxes, one square one, and one very obvious basket, if you’re curious) and head outside into the now somewhat heavy snowfall. It really is a silent night tonight, I marvel as we walk across the white parking lot. The snow deadens all sound, and everything feels so… so… peaceful. Like that very first Christmas must have, I think to myself with a smile.

The pickup’s engine is idling, sure enough, and the boys hop out, crunching over through the snow to help wrap the gifts in the protective, waterproof tarp in the back along with the guitars. Then Uncle Jesse goes around to the driver’s side, and we all climb in the other side. Bo is the last, me sitting between Uncle Jesse and Luke. We all wriggle around a little until we get our own space in the cramped cab, then Uncle Jesse pulls us carefully out of the parking lot and onto the road. We pass through town, and onto the dirt road heading home.

I yawn and lean my head on Luke’s shoulder, closing my eyes. He and Bo start talking, but I ignore whatever the topic might be, tuning out the world until their voices become a soft, soothing drone. I yawn again and snuggle into my older cousin, feeling tired, peaceful, and content. I’m even warm, because I’ve still got Bo’s jacket even though I offered to give it back earlier before the service; he said he wasn’t feeling that cold and that I should keep it. Luke’s shoulder makes a nice pillow; it’s hard with muscle, but that same strength makes me feel safe and makes me relax completely, and it’s comfortable just because it’s him.

I yawn yet again and let my last, tight-held grip on consciousness go, knowing that when I wake up, home will be waiting with warm fire and soft bed. Tomorrow will be another day for fun, trouble, whatever might come. In Hazzard, we rarely think about tomorrow; life changes too fast.

But some things stay the same no matter what. Like home, and friends, and family. And Christmas. With that happy thought, I slip into blackness, utterly content just to be who, where, and when I am.

<><>

I slide peacefully into wakefulness, for a moment wondering if we’re home yet. But then a different world rises up to meet me. I see a ceiling with a glow-in-the-dark solar system mobile hanging down, I hear soft snoring from my younger brother. I sit up suddenly, feeling strangely, forlornly lost, and sweep the curtain hanging over the window beside my bed aside. The bright light of a full moon fills the room. For a moment, I think I see snow on the ground outside, and catch my breath, but then that vision fades as well, and only a dry, chaparral hill remains.

I let the curtain fall and lay back down, trying to sort through alien yet now so very familiar thoughts and feelings. That dream, cause that’s what it must have been, still feels so real… and a deep longing swells up inside of me, so strong I feel like crying out in confusion. It’s like my home isn’t home anymore, like I don’t belong here even though I love my family very much. I almost cry, I feel so lost. I frown slightly to myself. It’s still so very real; almost like it wasn’t a dream, but more like… more like I went someplace. Someplace just as real as my own world… despite how impossible that sounds, it feels true.

And I love that world, love those people, differently and deeper now than I loved them before. I see, *feel*, Hazzard differently than I ever have before. Before, it was a TV show that I liked a whole lot. Now, it’s a world, people, that I greatly *love*, a place and people that are as real and complex to me as anybody in my own town that I could name. Maybe more so, considering how I feel about some people I know. And in a way, they’ll always be with me, in my memory, in my heart… and on paper or screen. Because now I know that I not only *can* write stories about them, I almost *have* to! I have to show my friends on the Internet the new facets that I can now perceive to Bo, Luke, and Daisy, to bring out fresh, different, maybe even surprising sides to their personalities. I’m starting to get excited now; I can’t wait to share the people I’ve seen with everybody!

The lonely feeling abates, and I turn over, blinking silent tears of mixed sadness and joy away and drawing a deep, shuddering breath. I have to go back to sleep… and the fact that it’s two o’clock, as the clock on my bedstand says, is catching up with me. Slowly, my eyelids slide closed, and my heart seems to drift out to touch another’s, one full of brightly burning life-fire but gentle warmth too. The contact calms me, and for a moment I’m filled with wonder. Is it a residue of imagination… or is it real, perhaps another universe that I have been a part of for a short time? Anything is possible, I know; Daisy and her cousins and friends might be real people somewhere. Or they might not. But whichever way, they will always be real in my heart, and that’s enough. So with a smile on my face and my very being seeming to float close to another’s, I slip into a sleep somehow more peaceful than any I’ve known in a long time.

Whatever happened this night, whatever happens in the future… I know that I will never be the same.

*And to this day… I’m not.*

THE END..?

 

by: Sarah Stodola

NOTE – I did use a very slight idea from another author, Heather (“Lost Sheep 2”), in creating this work. Heather, please don’t mind… it’s only cause I thought it fit so well. It’s a compliment to you, really. 🙂

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FOR ALWAYS

How could you do this to me?!!!

Okay, okay, I know you don’t have a lot of choice. But do you have to be so danged calm about it?! It’s almost like you *want* to go! Why? I know you care about those people, but don’t you realize that I care about people too? And I ain’t even *interested* in going anywhere! You say I don’t understand. What almost hurts inside is the fact that you’re not putting me down, telling me I’m a little kid. You’re just saying, gently, that I don’t understand. What don’t I understand? I understand one thing — you’re leaving. And I may never see you again!

“For always.” We’ve said those words several times in our life here growing up together. We said it when I was just little, and you decided that I was okay as a best friend after all, even if I was two and a half years younger. We said it when I was ten years old and we became blood-brothers. We said it when we were old enough to run shine and chose to always work as a partnered team. And now you’re looking at me, those soft blue eyes of yours gentle, saying it again and wordlessly asking me to say it back.

I feel tears spring to my own eyes, but I turn away. Uncle Jesse scolds me, but I don’t listen. How can you ask me to say something I know won’t be true? It won’t be always. You’re going away, across the sea, and I’ll never see you again.

Dang it all, Luke, can’t you see I need you?!

And I always have. You’ve always been there; I’ve never had to cope with life completely alone. You’ve pulled me out of every jam I get myself into. I don’t even really worry about speaking my mind around the other kids, cause I know that even if they get mad, you’ll be there to fight for me. I depend on you emotionally, too — don’t you know that? You’re my strength, cousin, the only strength I really have sometimes. I’m way too emotional, too easily hurt for my own good. But you’ve always been there to be by my side, to make me feel safer, stronger, with just a glance or a smile. I love you like I’ve never loved anybody, Lukas. Not even Uncle Jesse. I love him and Daisy a lot, of course, but somehow you and I seem to be tied to each other. And I admit it freely — I’m scared to death of losing that.

It isn’t just your going. If I knew you were coming home, I could handle it. I’d be living for that day, but I could handle it. But I don’t know if you’re coming back. There’s a good chance you won’t. And I’m scared. Little-kid-losing-his-mama type scared. I don’t know how I’d survive if you… died…

I bite my lip at the thought, tears threatening again. You’re still looking at me; have all my thoughts really happened in milliseconds? They must, because the world seems frozen around me. You’re asking me to believe you’ll come home. But how? How do I believe something I really can’t? I’ve heard too much about men coming back only in a box. Remember Jacob Frasier? He came home that way two weeks ago… about the time your name was chosen by some bureaucrat in Atlanta. They just draw a name out of a hat and send the poor boy to his death. Are you going to your death? I don’t want to see you come home like Jacob! I don’t know how I could live that way! I don’t know what I’d do.

I’m not really angry anymore, Luke. I just want to cry. I want to hug you and tell you all my fears. I want you to hold me and say it’ll all be all right. Somehow if you say it, I know I’ll finally believe it. I’m scared, Lukas. I’m so very scared, and I already feel lost, alone. You’re the only one who has ever understood me fully. And I think I’m the only one who really understands you. You’re so good at hiding your thoughts and feelings. When I watch that neutral mask slide over your face, I know that no one else will be able to see a thing you’re thinking. But I see it. I see it all. The tiny flickers in your eyes, the imperceptible shadows of expression on your face, are an open book to me. I know it annoys you sometimes. But we always end up laughing about it, cause even though I live on the opposite side of the emotional scale, no one else can really completely see me, either. You always manage to look through the anger and see the hurt whenever some kid makes fun of how I act. You let me yell and rant and rave, until I’m so tired of it all that all I want to do is curl up in a ball in some corner. Then you come, gently, and pry me out of myself, and things are back to normal.

How am I gonna survive life without you? By myself, without you to talk to, to turn to? A quick flash of anger rises up in me again, but then dies. I look up from the boards under my feet, into your eyes, and see again the gentleness there. I hesitate, wanting so badly to respond, but so afraid to open myself up to be hurt any more. I shove my hands in my pockets and look away.

Uncle Jesse tells me to quit acting like a spoiled brat, and I bite my lip. Can’t he see that I’m not? But you speak softly to him, in my behalf as you always have. It’s something else I don’t know how I’m gonna live without.

The train whistle blows, and you take a step backwards. “You know I love you, little cousin,” you say almost sadly, and then you turn to leave, to get on that train and go far away from Hazzard County. I watch you, heart tightening with every step you take, and I clench my fists inside my pockets. Suddenly I pause, and loosen my grip to pull something out of the right pocket and look at it. I’d forgotten all about this thing; it apparently made it through the wash. Just a little piece of junk I picked up by the lake a week back, only now after it has been washed, it doesn’t look like junk.

I look up, at you walking away, and suddenly yell, “Luke!” You turn and glance at me, one eyebrow up in question. Ignoring Uncle Jesse and Daisy, I run across the platform to stand in front of you. “I got somethin’ for you.”

“What is it, Bo?” you ask, glancing at the train. “I have to go; if I miss this ride, I’ll be in big trouble.”

“I ain’t gonna make you miss it. I just… here.” Opening my fist, I hold out the object that is all I have to give you. It’s not much, I know, but I know you’ll understand. “Keep it with you always. To remember me.”

You tilt your head curiously, then set your duffel bag down and reach into my palm to pick up the wide band of cheap-grade gold that I offer. “What’s this? Where’d you get it?”

“Found it. By the lake. It’s all I have…” I point to the inside. “It’s got some kind of symbol in it, but I don’t know what it means.”

You glance down and lift the ring to study it in the sun, then you smile. “That’s an infinity sign, Bo. It means forever, never-ending.”

“Well, I guess it fits how I feel, then.” Weird. It’s almost like I was meant to find it in the mud.

You meet my gaze, and then smile and slip the ring on your little finger. “It fits good in other ways, too. I promise I’ll wear it all the time. I gotta have some piece of you with me, or I’ll go nuts.”

“I feel the same way,” I admit.

“Oh!” you suddenly exclaim, as if startled. You dig into your jacket pocket, and I frown curiously. “Dang, I almost forgot this! I’d have really kicked myself when I got there and realized it.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“Something I got in town for you yesterday.” You hold out a small brown paper-wrapped package. “Go on, hurry up. I’ve got a train to catch.”

Laughing a little, I fumble with the paper, and finally unwrap a rectangular wooden box. Sliding the lid open, I blink down at the leather knife case inside. “Wow…”

“Look at it.”

I hand the box to you and snap open the leather case to pull out a knife much like yours. Only this one’s even nicer, with fake-wood decorative carvings along the handle. I snap open the blade, locking it open and hefting the weight. It has good balance. “Wow, thanks!” I grin, almost forgetting that it’s a going-away present. But then that catches up with me again, and I look back to you.

“A boy who’s just passed his sixteenth birthday needs a knife of his own. Besides, you won’t have me around to borrow from anymore.”

“…Yeah.” I snap the knife shut and slide it back into its case, then I look at you. “Luke, promise me something else. Please.”

You hand me the wood box too. “Sure. What is it?”

I blink back tears. “Please come home. Please. Alive.”

Your eyes search mine, seriously. “Are you afraid I’ll come home like Jacob Frasier?”

You’ve always been able to do that; read my mind almost as if you can see what’s there. I nod, biting my lower lip again. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

You put both your hands on my shoulders, and I look up. “Bo, I swear this. I’ll come home. Alive. I’ll be all right, and we’ll meet again on this platform. I swear it by the blood of our bond, brother.”

Something in my chest breaks, and I finally smile, the expression of relief quickly widening into a grin. It’ll be all right now. There is no greater oath possible, not even that of family name or honor. Blood is the oath between us here, and that can never, ever be broken. “Okay,” I find myself saying, actually believing it. I blink tears back again, but this time they’re not from fear. “I believe you. I’ll wait for your letters like a hound dog for his food, though.”

“Me too,” you laugh. You ruffle my hair with one hand, and I laugh too, not even complaining as I normally do. “I love ya, cousin.”

“Love you too.” I leap forward and hug you again, then step back as I hear the whistle blow its final call. “You better go, or the train’s gonna leave without you.”

You turn and look at the conductor, who’s waiting with a slightly impatient, yet understanding, expression on his face. “Yeah.” You sigh. “Guess I’ll see ya around, little cousin.”

“When you come back, I won’t be so little,” I mock-threaten, grinning. Then the playfulness fades, and I nod toward the train. “You better get going. Or I’ll never let you go.”

You reach down for your bag, then hesitate and hold your arms out instead. I leap into them, holding on tight and burying my face in your shoulder.

“Write soon,” I whisper, fighting the urge to outright cry.

“I promise. I will.” You hug me again, then disengage yourself from my unwilling hold and step back. You pick up the duffel bag and turn to walk away without another word. I watch you speak briefly to the conductor and then get on board, trying to engrave the image in my mind deep enough to last for the next several years. You grab a window seat and glance back at me, and I raise one hand high to wave.

“For always!” I yell on a sudden impulse, clenching my fist as though I were clasping his hand, copying the hold we had used when we became blood-brothers. “For always, Lukas Duke!”

You hold your hand out the window and copy the gesture, then wave as the train pulls away. I wave back until I know you can’t see me, then lower my arm and watch until the last car has rounded the bend, disappearing into the trees.

Uncle Jesse comes up behind me, and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You gonna be okay?” he asks with a whole lot more softness than he showed earlier. I nod.

“Yeah. But I’m sure gonna miss him.”

“He’ll miss you too; you know that.”

I nod again. “Yep. He told me so.” Then I look up into his face, into kind dark blue eyes, and I smile. “But he’ll come back, Uncle Jesse. After all, we did swear for always.”

END