by: KitsJ

Luke rounded on his cousin, backing him up against the wall with a finger in his face. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt front, he shook him angrily.

“Don’t you ever, ever do that again, you hear me, Bo Duke?”

Bo covered Luke’s hands with his own, trying in vain to pry them off. “It turned out all right, Luke, what are you so mad about?”

“What I’m mad about is you jumpin’ the gun again. What were you thinkin’? Did you even think, or just run right in there?” Luke shook him again, blue eyes flashing. Bo didn’t think he’d ever seen him this mad at him before, except that time when he made up his mind to jump the cars at that carnival. The thought made him stop for a moment, considering it.

“Are you even listening to me, Beauregard Duke?”

Bo winced at the use of his full name. Jesse and Luke only used his full name when they were steaming mad. “Yeah. But I still don’t get—”

“No, of course you don’t! You never do, do you?” Luke raged, pacing back and forth in front of him. Bo felt his face flush.

“Let me finish a sentence, huh? I was just gonna say that I don’t understand what’s got you so riled up. It’s not like you weren’t there behind me!”

He was, of course, referring to the incident earlier in the day. The boys had been enjoying a peaceful day (naturally) and by mid-afternoon they were chasing some criminals who had committed a crime that Boss Hogg was trying to pin to them (equally as natural). They had finally cornered the thieves, who happened to be armed, when Bo had suddenly darted out from behind their cover and launched himself at the man. A bullet had clipped him on the side, though it was barely a scratch. Rosco showed up, apprehended the villains, and he had been happily driving home when he noticed Luke was silently staring out the window instead of making jokes and celebrating.

By the time they reached home, Luke was practically boiling, and Bo still didn’t understand what had gotten into him. Sure, he’d gotten a bit of a nick, but that was nothing, and he was fine now.

“I was there behind you, but that’s just it: what was I supposed to do behind you, Bo? You could’ve been killed!”

“Is that what this is all about?” Bo said, somewhat irritably. “It’s barely a scratch and it doesn’t even hurt.”

“That’s not the point!” Luke said suddenly, stepping towards his cousin again. “If it’d been a few inches over, you could’ve been hit in the lung or, or—” His voice trailed off, and Bo could hear him blowing out loud breaths through his nose.

He watched Luke take a deep breath, then began in a quieter voice. “You could have been killed. And I couldn’t have done a thing about it.”

“But I won’t be,” Bo grinned. “Because you’re there.”

It was perfectly normal. Bo got into messy situations, Luke fixed them. And even though Bo knew perfectly well that even Luke couldn’t protect him from everything, he just could not conceive the possibility of Luke not being able to save him from whatever he got into. Whenever they were in a sticky situation thanks to his big mouth, Luke always thought of something. When gunshots were zooming past, Luke always shoved him down and covered him so he wouldn’t get hurt. If he ever were in a truly dangerous situation, he counted on Luke to pull him through.

“Bo,” Luke sighed, then pushed his cousin down onto a hay bale, kneeling in front of him and putting his hands on Bo’s knees. “I’m not always going to be there. You’ve got to learn to start watching out, bein’ more careful.”

“Why?” It was an honest question, and not meant to seem spoiled. Maybe a bit naïve, but it just wasn’t possible that Luke would let him get hurt.

“Because, Bo, I can’t be there for you 24/7. And when you get in a situation one day when I’m not there, you gotta know not to do stupid stunts like you did today.”

“I know,” Bo said reasonably. “But you were there.”

“Yeah. I know.” Luke stood up, putting a hand to his head tiredly. “Never mind, Bo. Just… go to bed, all right?”

Bo gave him a long look, then nodded. “All right.” He headed back to the house, not noticing when Luke sat down on a hay barrel and let his head rest in his hands, giving an exhausted sigh that no one heard.

by: KitsJ

I stared at the wall, tilting my head to the side a bit so I could read the graffitti on the panels.

Nate was here, 04-24

Boring. There’s nothing worse than boring graffitti; I mean, if you’re going to take the time to write something down, at least make it so that other people don’t mind reading it later on.

Somebody kill me now!

Better, but still pretty prosaic. At least, for detention.

Ducks taste like burritos.

Huh. Now that one was interesting. I considered it for a moment, then discarded it. Duck had more of a tang to it. Sighing, I dangled my pen between my fingers, trying to balance it on the knuckles of my hand. It fell.

Leaning down to pick it up, I took a moment to admire Jackie Perkins’ legs on the way up. My eyes drifted up and I found myself staring straight into her glare. I flashed my most charming grin, but she raised her hand anyway.

“Mr. Warren!” Oh, she wouldn’t. Not sweet Jackie… please, don’t– “Bo threw something at me!”

“I did not!” I yelped indignantly. It was no secret that Mr. Warren hated me, so I didn’t really expect him to believe me. But a man has to defend his honor, after all.

“Mr. Duke,” the man circles my desk menacingly. He was a tall man, almost taller than me, with piercing eyes that reminded me of an owl, and a really awful combover. Just seeing it made me want to run my fingers through my hair. The man had been out to get me since the first day of school when I accidentally dumped my lunch tray on his shirt. Daisy said he oughta thanked me; the shirt was hideous to begin with.

I glanced up at him, trying my best to look innocent.

“Sir, she’s just tryin’ to get me in trouble–”

“Mr. Duke.” I hate it when he calls me that. “Please refrain from throwing anything at these studious workers. Not all of them are as troublesome as you are.”

I heard Luke snicker a few desks away and made a mental note to hit him later.

“Yes, sir,” I said. With a suspicious nod, Mr. Warren was gone again, pacing between the rows like a watchdog. I sighed.

A white piece of paper, neatly folded into a square, went sliding across the floor and hit my shoe. I looked around, but Mr. Warren was bent over, reading something Charlene had written in her spiral. The note had Luke’s neat handwriting scrawled on it.

Nice going, cousin.

I glared at him from across the seats, but he remained steadfastly facing straight ahead; I could practically see the halo glowing over his dark curls. Jerk.

Scribbling back on the note, I creased it again and threw it back. Luke opened it and read what I wrote with a grin. He scratched something else onto it again, then slid teh note back over.

I didn’t do a dang thing and you know it! Jackie’s just trying to get me in trouble.

You’re just mad because she won’t go out with you.

I scowled, Luke laughing silently behind his hand. I had just gotten to the second word of my retort when a withered hand swooped down and picked up the paper.

“What’s this? What’s this?” Mr. Warren said, holding the note out like it was physically distasteful to him. “Mr. Duke, passing notes? I warn you, one more instance like this, young man, and it’s another three hours of detention for you.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. Behind the broad frame of Mr. Warren, I could see Luke giving me a sympathetic grin.

“As for you, Lucas Duke,” Mr. Warren continued without turning, “I would have thought a senior would know better.”

The grin ran away from his face and a look of surprise came over it. “Uh, yes, sir,” he echoed in an incredulous voice.

The note landed in the trash with a whisper, and I let out another loud sigh. The clock on the wall said 3:10. I fought the urge to groan, deciding it would be better to bury my head in my arms instead.

Dang. I never understood how people could fall asleep like this–the desktops were too low for you to lay your head comfortably on, and your arms started to fall asleep anyhow.

I turned my head, going back to reading the words markered on the chair in front of me.

Cooter was here–for something he didn’t do!

How about that? I’ll have to tell Luke about that later. After we get out of here. I wonder what our friendly neighborhood mechanic “didn’t do” that got him in here. I’ll have to ask him sometime.

The room was small, with a few desks filled here and there, mostly with kids I knew pretty well–Casey and John sat in the back, sleeping and working on math homework. Steve was in front of me, and Luke beside him, two desks up. Directly beside me, of course, was Jackie and her crew, all fixing their make-up and adjusting their skirts, which had ridden up while sitting–oh boy. This isn’t helping.

The A/C broke a while ago (try years) and so I peeled off my overshirt for some respite from the thick Georgia heat. It’s almost the end of school–few more days left–and the sun is shining through the windows and dancing on the floor. A bird lands on a branch outside and begins whistling some happy melody, fluttering its wings brightly.

If I see butterflies, I may just shoot myself.

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

I glance at the clock on the wall again, willing the hands to move faster. Seven minutes to go. Mr. Warren has been staring at me the past two and a half hours, daring me to move a muscle or make a sound louder than a cough. I kept looking back at him, smiling widely and pretending that I wasn’t imagining all the things I could be doing instead of sitting in a sweltering little building with two guys and three girls, one of whom had gotten me into trouble before. Six more minutes.

I fidget, gathering my books and homework together on my desk, neatly squaring it off into a pile.

Five more minutes.

Luke only had two hours, so he was long gone–he slapped me on the shoulder and promised to come pick me up after I had served my sentence, but I knew he would probably forget and was almost undoubtedly down at the Boar’s Nest trying to get Cooter to buy him a beer.

Four more minutes.

I drummed my fingers nervously on the desk, shifting again in my seat. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr. Warren straighten, looking at me sharply.

Three more.

…

Two.

…

One more–

Freedom! Sweet, sweet freedom! I jump out of my seat, racing for the door, and I can’t quite contain the loud whoop of joy that fills me.

“Mr. Duke,” Mr. Warren says in a slow, oily voice that makes me think he’s related to Boss somewhere down along the line. I stop and turn to face him.

“Yes, sir?”

“No shouting in the halls–please report to me for two more hours of detention tomorrow afternoon.” A quick glance at me, then he adds, “And try and restrain yourself next time, please.”

Somedays, it just ain’t worth it–tomorrow, I think I’ll go fishing.

by: KitsJ
“He’s beautiful,” Jesse whispered, holding the baby in his arms. The little character staring up at him was white and chubby, with a few wisps of ice blond hair on his head and two wide blue eyes that stared up at him silently. He was a healthy boy, nine pounds when he was born and ten tiny toes and ten short, soft fingers.

“Isn’t he though?” Mary said, smiling at her brother-in-law.

Jesse nodded. “Absolutely gorgeous.” When the baby in his arms started shifting restlessly within the confines of the blanket, Jesse quietly shushed him, stroking the short nose with his finger. The eyes blinked once, framed by long blond lashes, then slowly drifted shut. He made a contented noise, reaching out a chubby fist to hold onto the edge of Jesse’s shirt.

“When are y’all leaving?” Jesse asked, taking his gaze off his new nephew to look at his brother and sister-in-law.

“Tomorrow. We’ll only be gone for a day or two.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“But Luke…”

“You heard Uncle Jesse. Thirty minutes after we eat, then you can go in.”

Bo sat moodily on the edge of the bank, staring at the cool water longingly. He shot a pleading look to his eighteen-year old cousin who lounged contentedly in the shade, but Luke remained stern.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No. Take a nap and when we wake up, we can go in, all right?” Luke said, hoping to entice the twelve-year old to stillness. He had been running around and laughing and climbing trees until Luke felt his eyes nearly cross with the effort of watching him. The trip to the stream had been an inspired idea from yesterday, when the sun beat down mercilessly on them while they worked, but he was beginning to regret the decision to eat lunch on the banks.

“But I’m not tired,” Bo complained, tossing himself on the ground and folding his hands up behind him. He waited a moment, then pulled himself up and started walking around the oak tree where Luke was.

The older cousin waited a moment, then sighed. “Come here.”

Bo walked over, collapsing onto the ground beside him and staring at him with big blue eyes. Luke rolled him over until his back was facing him, then threw an arm protectively around his waist.

“Now go to sleep.”

He closed his eyes deliberately. Bo shifted. He let out a loud sigh, then twitched. Luke tightened his arm warningly. “Bo…”

“I’m not sleepy,” Bo said again, trying to roll over, but being prevented by the heavy arm across him. Luke yawned and reached up one hand to cradle Bo’s chin—his thumb gently stroked the length of Bo’s nose, and slowly the body curled up beside his relaxed, and the breaths slowed evenly.

“Thank goodness,” he whispered when he was sure Bo was asleep. He closed his eyes and listened to the cool water beside him, concentrating on the warmth of the sun on the ground, and drifted to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“C’mon, Rosco, he’s just a kid,” Luke begged. Rosco shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I warned him twice, and I told him that this would happen the third time I caught him fishing out there.”

Jesse scowled, knowing the Sheriff was right. He had fished out there a few times himself, back when he was younger, and he knew that it was illegal. It was one of the reasons he had never discouraged Bo from going out there, though he never expected his nephew to get caught. That, and he didn’t count on crops doing so badly they would not be able to pay the fine.

“Now, Rosco, he’s fifteen, surely—”

Rosco sighed. “Now, Jesse, I warned him and he’s got to learn.” His face softened as he looked at Jesse’s disappointed face. “It’s only for one night, and I’ll be here the whole time.”

“But Rosco—” Luke began, but Jesse cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“No, I reckon he’s right. It’s all fair and just. Rosco’s just doing his job.”

He turned to Bo, who sat there with all the bravado of a teenager, staring up at him and affecting a bored expression. Jesse put a hand on his shoulder.

“You call if you need anything, all right?” He looked at Rosco, who nodded his assent.

“I know, Uncle Jesse. I ain’t scared,” Bo said, though his eyes flickered to his cousins for reassurance. Daisy gave him a broad grin and a wink, and Luke smiled. He nodded.

“I’ll be fine.”

“All right. We’ll be by in the morning to pick you up.”

“Okay.”

Rosco led him to the small gray cell and opened the door. Bo glanced up at him, eyes lit up and dancing, then gave a lopsided grin and flopped down onto the cot. “See ya, Rosco.”

The sheriff smiled, locking the door and turning back to the office, where the rest of the Duke clan waited. Instantly, he was bombarded with all of them talking at once, and his head spun as he tried to listen to them all.

“Make sure he has a blanket tonight,” Jesse shook his finger at him. “And check up on him every now and then just to make sure he’s all right.”

“He better get a good hot meal, too.” That was Daisy.

“And if he’s having trouble sleeping, just stroke his nose and he’ll drift right off,” Luke added helpfully.

“And call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be by in the morning.”

“Make sure—”

“Yes, yes,” he assured them all, waving them out the door. “I got it all.”

They all quieted down, then Jesse nodded. “Well, all right then.” He grabbed his red hat, slapping it onto his head and leading the way out the door. Daisy and Luke trudged along after him, both casting looks over their shoulder, as if they could see the small jail cell from the upstairs room.
That night, when the lights were off except for the dim lamp on his desk as he shuffled through papers, signing here and initialing there and wading through the mess, he heard a small sound. He glanced up, but there was only silence. The clock on his wall read 11:43. He rubbed his eyes, fighting back another yawn as he sipped at his coffee.
Rosco’s head suddenly jerked up. What was that? He pushed his chair back from his desk, heels clicking on the floor as he walked around searching for the source. It was a hitching sound, almost like a gasp, but muffled.

A quick check out the window revealed nothing, and when he heard it again, the sound emanated from downstairs. Suddenly realizing what it was, he let out an exhausted sigh and headed down to the cell.

There was a huddle of blankets facing the wall, and a blond face buried into the thin pillow. The blankets moved when another sound was released.

Giving a paternal wince, Rosco unlocked the cell and kneeled by the cot, placing a hand on where Bo’s shoulder should be. “Bo?” he said, watching for a reaction. There was no answer.

“Bo?” Another hitching sound, and he rolled the body over, staring into red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose. “Are you all right?”

The light from a lamp he left on in the corner shone on his face, making the wet glisten and the red in his face shine. “I want Daisy or Luke or Uncle Jesse.” Daisy to give him a hug and rub his back and tell him everything was fine; Luke to ruffle his hair and pretend like nothing was wrong, then cheer him up by taking him for a ride in the car; Uncle Jesse to sit him down and impart to him some wise piece of advice that inevitably made him feel better.

“I know, I know,” Rosco said, his heart going out to the boy. “But you gotta learn the rules.”

“I know,” Bo replied miserably. That was the worst part; he did know better. Uncle Jesse had never warned him specifically, but he knew that it was illegal, and he had gone and done it anyway. The thought that this was his entire fault in the first place did little to ease his depression.

Rosco patted his shoulder. “Just go to sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

There was a silence, then Bo sighed. “I can’t. It’s too quiet.”

Luke’s voice from earlier in the day came back to mind, and Rosco tucked the blankets around the boy tighter. With one finger crooked, he stroked Bo’s nose. Blue eyes flashed open to look at him in surprise, then the lids slowly started to droop until he was fast asleep on the cot. Rosco leaned back on his heels, watching him sleep for a moment.

“Well, I’ll be darned,” he muttered. “It worked.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I remember when you were just a kid and Luke could put you to sleep like it was nothin’.”

Bo rolled his eyes, ignoring Cooter as he rambled on while Bo checked the underside of the car. He frowned suddenly, using the wrench to tighten a bolt that was trying to come loose.

“He’d just stroke your nose and wham! You’d be sound asleep in a few minutes.”

Rolling out from under the car, Bo looked up at Cooter. “Are you going to help, or just talk all day?”

Cooter grinned and squatted down beside him. “A little bit of both.” He jerked his head towards the car. “What’s it look like?”

“It looks like it’s time for you to be home because your family’s been worried sick about you,” Luke’s voice suddenly interrupted. Bo looked up guiltily, hearing the anger in his older cousin’s tone. His eyes suddenly adjusted, and he blinked when he realized how dark it was. Cooter and him had started the car early in the afternoon, and though they had to put up a bright light to see after a while, he had not realized quite how late it was. A surreptitious glance at his watch told him it was 12:04. When he had promised to be home by 9:30. Uncle Jesse was going to kill him.

“Uh,” he said intelligently, hastily getting up and wiping his greasy hands on a cloth Cooter passed him. “I was just—”

“No excuses. Uncle Jesse’s mad at enough as it is. You told us you were going to the store,” Luke said accusingly. Bo shifted, and Cooter did his best to fade into the background.

“I was, I just got distracted and—”

“Don’t even start. Get in the car, we’re going home.”

Bo considered asking if he could drive, but knowing Luke’s mood, he decided against it. Sliding past his irate cousin, he beat it to the car. Cooter preoccupied himself with the car, tinkering half-heartedly under its hood while Luke glared at him.

“What were you thinking?” Luke demanded. “It’s midnight! You knew he had to be home.”

“Aww, c’mon, Luke, he’s sixteen, I just thought—”

“And you never answered my calls on the CB.”

Cooter tightened his mouth, wincing when he realized that he had shut the door to the small room where the CB was. The constant calls were annoying when they were trying to work.

Luke sighed. “I gotta get Bo home. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Luke.”

Luke walked out of the small garage, heading towards the car where Bo was already sitting in the passenger’s side. He slid in, starting the engine and gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove back home. Bo remained silent, shooting him anxious glances every now and then before turning back to stare out the window.

Finally, he spoke up.

“Are you mad at me?”

Luke kept his eyes on the road. “Yes.”

There was a pause, then, “I’m sorry.”

And just like that, the anger and worry started to fade, and Luke sighed. “I know you are, Bo, but we were all worried sick when you didn’t get home, and no one knew where you were…Uncle Jesse and I were looking all over town for you, and Daisy was at home, in case you got there.”

“I didn’t think—”

“You never do, Bo,” Luke said, looking at his cousin. “That’s why Uncle Jesse gets so mad at you sometimes. You have to start thinking about things before you do ’em.”

The silence in the car returned, and Luke turned off onto Drover Road before Bo spoke up again.

“How mad is Uncle Jesse?”

“Mad enough that I’d just say yessir a lot and nod and do exactly what he says for the next week.”

“Oh,” Bo said quietly, leaning his head against the window. Luke reached over with a crooked finger and drew it down his cousin’s nose in an affectionate gesture. Bo gave a surprised laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, Cooter was just sayin’ something about that.”

“About what?” Luke gave him a quizzical glance.

“About that.” Bo mimicked the gesture. “He was saying you used to put me to sleep like that.”

Luke shrugged, obviously not having thought about it. “I remember having to do that for you to get to sleep at nights. You’d drive me crazy tossing and turning all night long. Or when you were working with me and Cooter at the garage and kept insisting you weren’t tired when you were.” He grinned at Bo. “You were very annoying.”

Bo returned the grin, knowing his cousin was just joking. “Same to you, cousin, same to you.”

Luke turned onto the road to their home, stopping the car and turning off the headlights when they got there. He turned to Bo before he could slide out of the car and gave him a half-smile. “Time to face the music, kiddo.”

“Yeah.” Bo looked down, reluctant to leave the comforting presence of his older cousin.

“It’ll be fine,” Luke said softly. He ruffled Bo’s hair. “C’mon.”

Together they climbed up the stairs of the porch and went to face Uncle Jesse’s long, but loving, lecture.

by: KitsJ

Winter:

“I’m cold.”

I yawned and rolled over, tugging the comforter until the edges were neatly tucked under me. The pillow under my head was soft, and I burrowed into its warmth.

“So go get another blanket,” I said sleepily. Behind me, I could almost feel Bo glaring at the floor and wondering what it would feel like on bare feet. The bed shifted again.

“Please?”

I snorted. “Not a chance. Go get it yourself.”

“Please?”

“No.”

There was a moment of silence that had me nearly drifting off to sleep again before I suddenly gave a loud yelp.

“Get your feet off me!”

“But I’m cold!”

“You’re like ice! Move!” I shifted away from the offending feet, but they followed me until I nearly hung off the side, crammed into the narrow edge of the bed. “Bo…”

“You’re warm, though,” my cousin protested, and I could tell he had no intention of moving from his newfound warmth. Briefly the thought crossed my mind to hit him, but the cold was already sinking out of his feet and I could feel them beginning to warm. I sighed.

“And now I’m gonna be cold,” I muttered, shifting once again until I had more room.

“So get another blanket.”

The next winter, I talked Uncle Jesse into buying us separate beds.

Fall:

“I’m bored.”

I eyed my cousin from the couch, looking down on his blonde curls where he was sprawled across the floor.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing homework?” I asked. His math book lay open in front of him, and a pen dangled between his lips, but the pages of his notebook were conspicuously blank.

He tilted his head back to look up at me. “It’s boring.”

I rolled my eyes. The car magazine I had been flipping through fell to the side.

“It’s math. It’s not meant to be exciting.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t get most of it, anyway.”

“What don’t you get?” The floor was hard, and already my elbows were beginning to groan in protest, but I ignored the telltale prickles and leaned my head over to peer at the book.

He pointed at a line of numbers and letters. “That.”

I grinned. “Factoring?”

“Yeah.” Bo rolled over in frustration, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid. And useless.”

I chewed on the end of his pencil consideringly, commenting absent-mindedly, “It’s useful when you get to higher math.”

There was a pause, then: “Like I said, completely useless.”

Laughing, I scribbled the problem down. “There’s an easier way of doing this, you know…”

“How?”

“Well, say you want to square this—” I pointed to the expression ‘(4x+2) squared’ –”then you just have to remember the binomial shuffle.”

He stared at me for a second, before finally saying, “What in the world are you talking about?”

“That’s right, Coach Thorne retired. I had him back when he still taught math and football. All right, you just square the first, square the last, product of the two, doubled fast!”

“What?”

“Square the first, so 4x squared is 16x squared. Square the last, 2 squared is 4. Then product of the two, 8x, doubled fast, 16x. Voila! 16x squared plus 8x plus 4 is your answer.”

Bo looked at me for a long moment, then at the paper, then at me again.

“I still say it’s useless.”

Spring:

“I’m hungry.”

Bo and I were lounging on the front porch, with me staring up at the sky trying to figure out whether it was going to rain or not. His comment didn’t break my concentration.

“You’re always hungry,” I replied. Squinting, I watched a dark cloud drift steadily closer. The wind had picked up a bit, too.

“I know.” There was a shuffling noise behind me. “But I really am now.”

“So why don’t you go in there and ask Daisy to rustle you up something to eat?”

He mumbled something I couldn’t catch. “Do what?” I turned, giving him my full attention.

Bo stared at the planks of the porch with interest. “She kicked me out.”

“Daisy kicked you out.”

“Yeah.”

“Of the kitchen.”

“That’s what I said, ain’t it?”

I grinned at him. “That’s what you get for bothering her while she’s cookin’.”

“Aw, how was I supposed to know that she had that flour in her hand?”

“Well, you should have known better then to scare her like that.”

I made him scoot over on the swing, and we sat by each other, looking out into the fields as the sky began to darken. After a moment, Bo snickered. I turned my head to glance at him.

“What’re you laughin’ at?”

“You gotta admit, it was pretty funny. Daisy looked just like Casper.”

We both set to laughing, and kept on laughing until Jesse’s voice called to us that supper was ready.

Summer:

“I’m free!”

Bo gave out a howl of laughter that echoed around the garage, sending Cooter and me out from under the car. A stack of books and papers went sliding down the bench along the sides, slamming into the wall at the other end. I gave a sympathetic frown to them. Those poor books had been more mistreated by my little cousin than anything I’d ever seen.

“I’m finally done with school!”

“Good,” I smiled at him while wiping my greasy hands off on a cloth, “you can start celebrating by helping us.”

It sometimes surprises me when people say they think fixing a car is more work than school. At least you don’t have to do homework on a car—and testing it by driving is much more fun than testing by writing essays. Yessir, Bo figured that one out pretty fast. I can’t blame him, though I know Uncle Jesse was hoping at least one of us would pay more attention to our studies—Bo just wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

“All right!” Bo said eagerly, ready to bury himself in the inner workings of the car right then and there. I held up a quick hand to forestall him.

“First out of your school clothes. Daisy’ll have a fit if she has to clean oil from ’em.”

“I don’t care, because I’m free!” Bo grabbed me by the arms and gave me a quick hug before racing off to grab some old clothes from the truck outside. I shook my head, watching him leap off.

Cooter laughed as Bo’s whoop of excitement reached us. “I remember that.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “When? I remember tell of you skippin’ class more than you went to it.”

“Yeah. But it still felt awful good when I was done and didn’t have to make up excuses to fish.”

“And now you have this,” I waved to the work area around me.

“Sure,” Cooter shrugged philosophically, “but this is fun, not work. I mean, what guy in his right mind wouldn’t want to be around cars all day, and get paid for it to boot?”

“True.”

Bo reappeared in one of my old shirts. He was almost getting too big to fit in mine anymore, and he had to leave it untucked because it had trouble covering his long torso.

“C’mon, cousin, let’s get to work.”

“Sure!” I leaned back against the workbench, gazing at him as he slid under the car and examined what me and Cooter were working on that morning. This was his last year at school, and graduation was coming up in a few months. It was a wonder he went enough to graduate at all, but I heard Uncle Jesse asking Rosco to make sure Bo was at school enough to at least get something. Not that Bo appreciated the attention, mind you, but…

“Hey, Luke, you gonna help?” Two blue eyes stared at me from under a fall of blonde, and I nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Move over.”

” ‘kay.” The garage lightly pinged with the light rings of metal on metal and the humidity pressed down already so that a few times I had to wipe the sweat off my forehead.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Mm?” I stared a particularly rusted piece, knowing it would have to be replaced.

“You’re not gonna leave or anything, right?”

That caused me to pause, and I looked over at Bo, who was concentrating on the bottom of the car instead of meeting my eyes. “Not planning on it. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“C’mon, Bo, why’d you think I was gonna leave?” I kept my voice gentle, and he turned to stare at me with a worried expression on his face.

“No reason.”

“Bo,” I said again.

“Just…” He shrugged as best as he could, reluctantly continuing, “with the war and all, I thought…”

I smiled reassuringly at him. “It’ll be fine, Bo.”

“Promise?”

I gave him my most serious look. “Promise.”

That was the summer of 1964. Right before Bo’s graduation, and right before my whole world was turned over with one little letter from the U.S. Government.

by: KitsJ

“Bo, c’mon, let’s go,” I shouted from the front yard. Uncle Jesse had said my cousin was out here doing chores a second ago, but glancing around, I didn’t see a sign of him. The barn door was open, so I walked on over there and poked my head in. “Bo?”

Suddenly a curly blonde head popped up from behind a stack of hay. “Hey, Luke!”

I jumped, and Bo flashed me a grin in response. The expression on his face seemed so innocent that I couldn’t resist reaching forward and ruffling his hair, which he put up with typical stoic grace.

“C’mon, let’s go,” I said, turning to leave. Long legs loped to catch up with me, and we both walked to the car.

“Where we goin’?” he asked curiously, sliding in on the passenger’s side. I jumped over the hood and got in behind the wheel.

“To town. Jesse needs some boards for the fence around the goat pen.”

“Ah.”

Normally, I let Bo drive, but the day was so pretty and I was so full of energy that I grabbed the driver’s side without even thinking about it. It was mid-spring, and everywhere the greenery was blooming and the sky was clear as you could ask for—there wasn’t a cloud in the sky far as you could see.

“Uh, Luke?”

“What?” The sound of sirens hit me then, and I suppressed a groan when the flashing red lights showed up in the mirror. “What’s he want?”

Bo smiled. “You actually wanna find out?”

“Not really.” And this is why I love the General. One light stomp and bang! We were off, flying down those roads like they were water or something. The dust flew up behind us and obscured the cop car followin’ us, but man, the wind blowin’ against your face like that… ain’t nothin’ like it in the world.

I turned the corner sharply, barely seeing the car in time to stop. Poor Enos cowered against the thing like I was gonna hit him and for a second there, I thought that I might. Instinctively, I tossed out my arm across Bo’s chest, slamming down on the brakes and saying a quick prayer. The General stopped just a hair from the other car. I was out of the door before anyone could say anything.

“What the hell were you thinkin’, Enos?” I said, angrily gesturing to the near miss. “You wanna get killed or somethin’?”
“Gosh, Luke, I’m sorry, I just—”

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” And maybe I was a bit hard on him. He was just doing his job, after all, but a little closer and the only job he’d have to worry about was his eternal one in Heaven. Liked to scare me to death, anyhow, and my heart was still pounding.

“Sheriff says—” Enos began, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

“Nope. I don’t want to have to deal with this today. You tell Rosco if he wants us he can come get us at the Boar’s Nest, ’cause I’m going to get a beer and sit down and enjoy this day. Then I’m going to get the boards for Uncle Jesse, and then if Rosco wants to arrest me, he sure can try. Until then, bye.”

“Bye, Enos!” Bo waved from his perch on the side of the car door. He slid himself back in side, dodging the roof as he slipped in. I did likewise.

We were only a few minutes along when Bo chuckled. Well, truth be told, he giggles, but the last time I said that, he wouldn’t talk to me for a couple of days, so he may laugh, chuckle, or occasionally snicker, but never does he giggle. Even though he does.

“What?” I said, glancing over at him before looking back at the road. The General was going a mite slower than I had him at before, more out of care for my nerves than anything else.

“Oh, nothin’,” he answered, staring out the open window with a broad smile on his face.

Now I was a bit curious. “Tell me,” I said.

“Just… when you put on the brakes.”

“Yeah?” I shot him a puzzled frown. So? “What of it?”

“Did you even notice what you did?”

“What did I do?”

Bo’s grin nearly split his face in two. “You did the mom thing.”

Sometimes, I swear, he don’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”

“The mom thing.” He gestured with his arm, mimicking the move, then shrugged. “Just thought it was pretty funny, s’all.”

“The mom thing.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Shaking my head, I picked up the pace a bit. Then slowed down, because I was thinking. It was just pretty much habit to do that, especially to Bo. I think I’ve done it with Daisy once or twice, especially back when she was little and would sit on her knees on the front seat to see over the dashboard or poked her head out the open window. I spent more time watching her then the road.

Been a long time since I did it to Bo, though. Back when he was a kid, he was probably worse than Daisy, constantly trying to be everywhere at once. Once he turned fifteen, I started letting him drive, and by the time he was eighteen, he was driving most of the time anyway. I laughed at the thought. Been a really long time since I did that to Bo.

“What?” He gave me a suspicious look, as if I were keeping something from him.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

We pulled into the Boar’s Nest before he could press me for more answers, and we walked in and found Cooter sitting at a table. The place was nearly full—normally it was—and we spotted Daisy running back and forth between customers. Me and Bo waved, and she smiled at us before going back to work.

“Hey, Bo, go get the beers from Jerry.”

Bo glanced at me. “Why?”

“Because Daisy’s already working hard, she don’t need her two cousins giving her orders, too.”

“All right.”

Bo returned with three glasses of watered-down beer, trying to hold them all without spilling it. I jumped up to help, grabbing two of them and giving one to Cooter and one by my seat.

“Thanks, Mom,” Bo said, laughing when I just glared at him. Cooter shot glances between the two of us, arching an eyebrow.

“Care to explain?”

“He does the mom thing.”

“The mom thing,” Cooter repeated. Bo nodded.

“Yeah, you know, when you have to slam on the brakes real fast, and you throw your arm out?”

“Oh!” Cooter said. “That mom thing!” He gave me a smile, and I braced myself for it, sipping my beer and shooting him a warning look over the top of the glass that he cheerfully ignored. “Aww, Luke, you did that to Bo? That’s so sweet!”

“So does that make Bo my kid?” I remarked casually, hiding my amusement behind the glass when my cousin shot me a look. “‘Cause I sure don’t want him.”

“Cute.”

Cooter snickered, draining the rest of his beer and standing up.

“Well, y’all, some of us gotta work. See y’all later,” he said, slapping his cap on his head and heading for the door.

“Bye, Cooter,” I said, Bo echoing me. We sat there in silence for a moment, then Bo spoke up, looking at me with his blue eyes sparkling.

“Say, Luke, why do you do that?” he asked. I shrugged in response, putting the glass down.

“Uncle Jesse used to do it to me when I was a kid, and I took y’all out driving so much that it was just instinctive.” I smiled. “I swear, you and Daisy were little hellions.”

“Aww, you ain’t that much older,” Bo protested.

“Eight years between you and me.”

“Only for two months. Then it’s only seven months the rest of the time,” Bo shot back.

“Doesn’t matter.” I stood, depositing a few dollars on the table in payment. “Still enough to know you were little hellions.” I waited for him by the door, and as he walked past, I heard him mutter,

“I bet Uncle Jesse said the same thing about you.”

Shaking my head, I followed him out, clapping him on the shoulder.

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s go get the wood for that fence.”

“Sure… Mom.”