by: Kristy Duke

Thoughts tumble numbly within me as I silently stare out through the clear passenger window, watching the scenery quickly roll past us. Tears of deep, harsh emotions claw desperately at my watered eyes, struggling through my shield to run down my face. Running a weak wary hand across my face my thoughts shift from the horrid nights I had spent in the state pen to the fearful news that Cooter and William dreadfully brought to me last night. Disbelief thickly corses through my tired body as nightmarish thoughts flash clearly in my head, thoughts of the future that is set ahead of me; of a life without Bo. Fresh tears instantly blur my vision as my imagination displays in vivid detail of the last moments of Bo’s life, of being forced off such a steep cliff to being tortured into death by the entrapment within the burning car.

“Sergeant Mills and us are really sorry about the mix up,” Mueller finally speaks up behind the wheel as the muscular agent in the back seat slowly shifts in his seat behind me, “if there is anything that -”

“Yeah,” I abruptly interrupt the intensely handsome agent from another apology, similar to the one he had given to me at the jail, “get the jackass that has done this to Bo…my family and make them pay for it.”

“We plan on doing that Mr. Duke,” he stiffly replies as the agent behind me stiffly moves again behind me in discomfort, “we are doing everything we can do at the moment.”

I slowly nod in understanding as my heart leaps momentarily in excitement as the green sign welcoming us into Hazzard quickly approaches us before passing by my window. Feeding upon the small amount of excitement at the sight of my home town coming clearly into view, I think of Daisy in the hospital, awake and recovering from her terrible accident. Guilt slowly gnaws itself within me with thoughts of Daisy as they turn to Travis, of all that I had said towards him before and after the accident. “I know it is too late to apologize to Agent Lurns for my actions towards him,” I sigh as I reconstruct the words into an acceptable sentence, “but I really didn’t mean what I had said to him at The Boar’s Nest, I was drunk, angry, and upset.”

Agent Mueller stares sullenly through the mud splattered windshield ahead of him before he slowly nods before saying, “Other than for it went for motive, no one blamed you for how you felt towards him. It is a requirement for citizens to stay behind in an accident, not a lone for a man of the law, who knew better than to run, whether he thought she was dead or not. We figure that who ever did kill him was the ones who ran them off the road…and he ran off when they began to chase him on foot,” he pauses as he glances into the rearview mirror at the tense agent who sits in the back seat, “which would give him a reason to run for safety reasons, but that still doesn’t ease the pain and anger that he created by leaving her behind to die. I am sure if he were alive, he would accept your apology as would his family…his parents that is.”

Silence abruptly swallows the agent’s sensitive words as more thoughts rush through me while I watch familiar land run past us. As the silence continues to evolve around the small stuffy car, my mind returns to the past month’s events that had led me where I am, slowly shifting through each event before it turns to the forbidden future. Self-doubt and what if questions soon washes through me, of all the things I should have done, wondering if things would have been different.

Once again, my heart twitches within me with excitement as Jesse’s old farm slowly comes into view as we ride over a small hill. My heart slowly tightens within me at seeing several cars parked within the dirt drive way as well as within the grassy area in front of the aging farm house. LB’s and Bo’s wake. Seeing the cars parked in front of the old farm house sends a harsh amount of reality through me, the reality of the finality of Bo’s life; of LB’s life.

“We weren’t able to get into contact with your uncle before coming to get you,” Treyton sighs warily as he pulls his government released vehicle into the crowded drive way, “so unless Sergeant Mills has told him within the amount of time it took to get you, your Uncle, or anyone else, doesn’t know about us releasing you. Sergeant Mills should be stopping by in a while.”

“OK,” I slowly take a deep breath as I stiffly climb out of the small black car and both agents give me a stiff wave. I slowly wave back as they slowly back out of the drive way and slowly drives away. I stand silently in place for a long moment as I say a silent prayer for strength to face what is to come, what lies within the familiar hand as well as a prayer of thanks, of being given another chance to live the life I once loved. Taking a deep breath I slowly turn around to face the proud aging farm house and the cars that lie in front of it before slowly walking up to the old wooden steps that leads up into the front porch.

Approaching the weak screen door and place a trembling hand upon the cold metal handle, hushed voices is heard through the wooden door that lies closed on the other side of the screen door. The screen door squeaks open as I silently pull it open, while silently imagining all that lies within the closed door, of everyone’s reactions of the nightmarish events that happened only a couple of days ago. The unthinkable. I take another deep breath in attempt to find courage as I slowly tug the thick white painted wooden door open and as I slowly take a step into the large farm kitchen, everyone’s attention is thrown upon me. Their conversation comes to an abrupt stop as they see who I am, with knowledge of where I had been at only an hour ago, imprisoned for murder. Familiar faces surround me, sitting at the table or at metal fold up chairs that had been placed around the room, or standing up while they had been talking to one another.

Through the silence of the room I can hear more hushed voices within the living room as well as the pounding of my heart with in me as the Hazzard folk continues to take me, fighting for their responses. Looking from familiar face to familiar face, I concede that Jesse and Cooter both must be in the living room or any other room that the mournful party may rest at. “Luke!” a familiar voice forces my attention towards the elderly doctor, Dr. Applebee, of whom is the family’s doctor, the doctor that had cared more for Bo than any of the other doctors he had met. Soon the rest of the room full of Hazzard mourners’ reaction matches Applebee’s, of excitement and relief at seeing me, despite of the accusations of being a killer.

I gently nod my head at them before forcing a wary smile at them, fighting for my own reactions, wondering if I should say something or not. As I go to say something to Doctor Applebee, the room falls back into intense silence and I slowly look over to search for the reason, to find Uncle Jesse to be standing in the entry way of the kitchen. My heart flutters in excitement at seeing the uncle that had raised me since I had been seven months old only to become saddened by what I see. He is no longer the man I remember seeing when I had been dragged away to jail, he now looks as if he has aged ten years within the time I had been locked away, looking old, vulnerable, and withered.

“Luke,” he slowly says, his voice filled thickly with surprised disbelief as he searches me through, looking for answers. People make an isle for him as he slowly begins to walk towards me where I stand still in between two counters, in front of the door. As he climbs closer to me, his tears become apparent upon his weathered aging cheeks, grief and sadness dances within his eyes along with much pain. “Luke,” he repeats as he forces a smile onto his face as he approaches me before enveloping me within a long tight hug of his arms and I am quick to return his hug. After a long moment of silence, he slowly steps back to look at me before asking, “What are you doing here? I am glad to see you here, but the last I knew you were still their key suspect.”

“Something had changed over night,” I shrug as I look around the room, everyone interested in my explanation, “I guess someone had came forward with some new information that led them to another suspect…that they are still searching for; as well as new evidence that changed their minds.”

Once again he engulfs me into a tight caring hug and after a brief moment, my shirt becomes heavy upon my right shoulder with the wetness of his tears. Slowly he forces himself to let go of me before saying, “Well welcome to Bo’s and LB’s wake,” he motions around, “there is more people in the living room that I am sure would love to see you. Let me go get you something to drink and eat while you make your way around.”

“Yes sir…thank-you,” I finally answer before nodding to everyone in the room on my way to the living room that lies past the black wood burning stove. Walking into the living room, I find several more people sitting upon the couch and chairs as well as a few fold up chairs while more people stands throughout the room. A clutter of people surround the fire place and around the metal desk that lies against the wall that separates the two hall ways from one another. Remaining unnoticed by the familiar people that gather in the room, I continue to take in my surroundings, at the people that occupy the room.

“Luke!” Cooter’s voice rises above the hushed voices of the people that talk amongst themselves and it takes a while for me to find him amongst the group of people that look around the desk. I send him a wary grin before I slowly begin to walk towards him as the silence from the kitchen follows me through the living room as everyone stares in surprise and shock at me. “What are you doing out?” Cooter puts on an old play through his own mourning for his own cousin as I approach, “No, let me guess. You escaped and are now an escaped convict…shame on you. You of all should know better than to return home, it’ll be the first place they’ll look. Sergeant Mills don’t seem the type to leave any rock unturned.”

“I didn’t escape,” I give him another smile despite the tears that rush within me with sadness and grief, “they found some new information and new evidence that says it wasn’t me but someone else.”

Applause shifts through the room as I finish explaining my freedom once again before everyone returns to their conversation amongst themselves and I am left to wonder if they are talking about the latest gossip or about Bo or LB. “Figured they’d find out themselves sooner or later,” Cooter forces an isle amongst the people at the desk and I am pulled up to the desk. My heart comes to an abrupt stop as pictures of Bo surround me in picture frames as well as an old photo book lies open, a book of Bo, Daisy, and I, marked in different sections. Happy pictures, sad pictures, pictures of courage and accomplishments, and memorable pictures; from birth to death. A few trophies of football and racing are scattered amongst the pictures as well as old model cars that he had put together, an old baseball and a black glove rests upon the far left corner while trading cards of baseball cards are as well scattered around. Bo’s pictures surrounded by the things he liked, collected, or enjoyed.

Something in Cooter’s voice makes me look skeptically up at him before asking, “What you mean by themselves?”

He sighs desperately as he glares at the pictures for a short moment before looking up at me and I notice for the first time to find Dobro and Brodie standing behind us. “Bo had figured that if the FBI weren’t interested in finding the right killer, that we should give them a little boost,” Cooter slowly begins, “and he is the one that pointed out the fact that the FBI were here well before Travis’ murder…after all Travis was an FBI agent. Which could only mean one thing…they are after someone, which in turn doesn’t take a big jump of faith to think that the people they are after are the ones that killed Travis. Kristy had found a tape in their accident into town and we all got to take a good look at the reason why they were after the men…” he goes into describing the tape which had led them to looking for who ever was on the tape. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask numbly as I take in the pictures that surround me, pictures of just Bo to family pictures.

“I should have been the one to stop them from doing so, from investigating instead of going along with him,” he pauses, “if I did so, they -”

“They’d do it themselves,” I finish for him, “guilt doesn’t lead you anywhere, Cooter. Things happen for a reason, that I am sure of.”

Silence gathers between us as a couple of people that had been looking over our shoulder slowly walks away, back to the fire place where more pictures stand upon their frames. Once again, I feel tears welding within my eyes as I stare at the pictures, my mind reeling slowly around the thought of life without Bo. How could anyone want to hurt such a caring, innocent person? Bo would never do anything to harm someone without receiving harm from them first, through the few weeks I had been home after war, I had watched him return anger and hatred from me with love, care and understanding. He was a child at heart, who cared more for others, than himself, full of innocence, love, and life. Now I stare into the glossy pictures that is left to remind us of the times we had spent with him, of watching him grow up suffering in pain and fear while his concern had not been about himself, but others. He never could deal well with others suffering.

Through out the first years of his life we had awaited for the dreaded day to come, when he became too weak to fight with the disease he was born with, when the disease took him away from the suffering to a life of eternity peace and well-ness. Yet, he was too stubborn to cave into the urge of death with reassurance that the pain would die with him, fighting against his disease, for life, to prove everyone wrong. Now after twenty-two years, he dies in a horrid accident at the end of the cliff instead of due to his disease.

“Luke,” Cooter places a hand upon my shoulder to send me back into reality as he motions me to look over where I find Agent Mills standing a foot away from me with an attractive young muscular man with a black leather Stetson hat with the rims curved up. The man’s intensely green – gray eyes pierces me with a watchful stare as his eyes lie within his tight dark gray denim coat.

“I am aware that my partner has already apologized for your inconvenience and I wish to give you my personal apology. I am really sorry for the wrongful arrest, I guess I got so wrapped up with the evidence and all that Bo had said, and had identified,” he slowly shrugs, “that I blocked out any thought that it could have been someone else…as Bo had insisted on. I am sorry…it isn’t enough to erase the pain and suffering you had to deal with in jail, but at the moment, that is all I have.”

“You just followed the evidence and my background…I am aware now that I am a marked killer…trained killer due to my service to our country. The fact that I made some uncalled for comments to Lurns at the bar surely didn’t help, or the fact I was runnin’ the shine he called me in for,” I shrug as I fight back the tears that threaten to fall, “My point is…you were just doing your job. I am sure I would have arrested myself if the roles were reversed. I just ask…beg of you to arrests that jackasses that had done what they did to your agent and to my cousin and LB. Bo didn’t deserve -”

“He surely didn’t…he was a great man,” Mills agrees with me as his friend leans against the wall while looking down at the pictures upon the table. Becoming aware of the guest he brought into our house, Mills places a caring hand upon the man’s muscular lower right arm to focus his attention onto me, “Luke, I would like you to meet the man that had brought us the evidence and gave us the information that had changed our direction of suspects. Luke, this is Ethaniel McKleen.”

“Ethan,” the man forces a broad white smile at me as we shake hands.

“McKleen?” Cooter asks, speaking up for the first time since their arrival, “As in the men that had burned down LB’s garage out of jealousy? The men that chased him out of town?”

Ethan’s intense eyes looks deeply into Cooter before looking over at me and back at Agent Mills. “That would have been my brothers…my older brothers, ” he slowly speaks up, “who was teamed up with the killers who had killed Agent Lurns and his partner in Capital City. LB had accidently witnessed one of their transactions between my brothers and their friends within a drug or gun buyer. LB was the one who alerted the FBI, which is why they did what they did. Not that it gave them any right…it was terribly wrong and shameful to my own name,” he takes a deep breath as his own emotional pain seems to run through his eyes, “I didn’t get drug into the whole thing until I witnessed it myself and was forced to cooperate with them after an example of what they would do if I didn’t.”

Intense silence radiates between us as he slowly finishes his explanation and I am slowly aware of the people within the room, their hushed conversations. “Sorry,” Cooter says embarrassedly as he catches the emotional pain written across the man’s face, “I just recalled the article of the burning of LB’s garage and all that he had told me…leaving out the whole drug gun thing. The name McKleen stuck with me for some reason.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Neither of you have anything to be sorry for…I am the one that should be sorry. I should have came forward sooner, perhaps if I did…” he lets it hang for a long moment as he nervously looks around, “Anyway, I am here if I can help in any way…more than what I already did. My brothers didn’t kill anyone…they are genuine jackasses that has done some horrible thing, but killing isn’t apart of that. It was their new friends that they started to hang out with, bringing to the garage after we all inherited my dad’s garage that’s been causing it all. My brothers left a couple of days before your cousin’s accident.”

I glance over at Mills who nods as if in agreement with what Ethan is telling us, who stands a good couple inches shorter than I. “I brought Ethan here for his apology, he wanted to give it to you in person after hearing that he helped with your release,” Mills finally speaks up, “as well as wanting to know people around here…he is thinking of moving here or somewhere near here. Perhaps now is the right time to know for sure if that is what he wants to do, but I need to go and do some paper work, try to figure things out. If he causes trouble -”

“He’ll be fine,” I speak up as I continue to look at the pictures of Bo smiling at me, frowning, angry and sad faces of Bo. Mills says something besides me before he slowly walks away, back into the crowd that lies behind us. “Thank-you for stepping forward with what you know,” I finally say to him and he silently nods as his attention remains on pictures of Bo, “if not I’d still be in jail…perhaps given the life sentence. They was talking about it, that or life behind bars and that didn’t sound like too much fun either.”

“Should have done it sooner,” he silently offers, “but didn’t want to get my brothers arrested. I may have been wronged by them as has others, but I can’t allow them to go to jail for it all…that would just kill my dad. He has lung cancer.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I pause for a long moment, “well all that I am interested at the moment is that the killers are punished and if they aren’t them, then I ain’t worried. Thank-you for stepping up, that must have been hard.”

He nods for a moment as his attention goes back to the pictures of Bo and I glance up to find Brodie and Dobro over at the fire place, looking at the other pictures while Cooter stands in the door way talking to Jesse. “I am going to go talk to the people who has left us, you are welcomed to join me if you want,” I shrug before I turn and force my way through some people while I walk through the living room to the small window to stand next to Brodie. “Hi Brodie,” I slowly speak up as I place a hand upon his shoulder that is covered by his black dress suit that he wears. Surprised he looks up at me from looking at pictures of Bo mixed with a few of LB line against the shelf and a few end tables that has been brought up. Here pictures of Bo are with family and friends, a couple even with LB. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Nah, I wasn’t payin’ too much attention,” he speaks up and Dobro looks up at me, he too wears an older nice suit, his is of a tan khaki pants and a dark blue blazer.

“I just wanted to thank you both for all that you did for Bo,” I pause as Ethan catches up with us, “for being there for Bo when I wasn’t there for him. He talked highly of both of you in the letters he wrote to me.”

“Well he praised you,” Brodie grins broadly at me, his white teeth radiates against his black complexion, “it was Luke this, Luke that. It almost felt as if you didn’t leave, as if you were somewhat still there, I guess.” he shrugs as he glances over his shoulder at Dobro for help who only slightly grins, “It is good to see you a free man once again…Bo would have been so excited if he -” he pauses as his own dark brown-black eyes water in tears, “he felt really guilty for telling them everything, felt like he put you in jail.”

“I would have made my way there without his testimony, they had enough evidence on their own,” I slowly inform him and he silently nods as his attention goes back to the pictures.

As our attention goes back to the pictures of Bo, of memories of Bo, and onto the grief of losing such a great friend, silence soon grows between us. “Luke!” a young child shrieks in excitement and I slowly turn around to find Jamie running at me in a light yellow dress with fluffy short sleeves and thick white tights and shiny dress shoes. Her hair is nicely combed and brushed, placed tightly into a black head band, the ends neatly curled along with her bangs. Her green-blue eyes sparkle with tears of sadness turned to excitement at seeing me as she tightly embraces my legs. She giggles as I gently bend over and pick her up, giving her a tight hug before she asks, “Where’s Bo?”

“We’ve been over that, honey,” Kristy says as she emerges from a group of people with Garrett close behind her, holding Shay who struggles to be let down.

“But Luke’s here,” Jamie protests as I slowly set her down, confusion streaks her soft eyes.

“Uncle Bo died in that accident, honey…he won’t be coming back,” Kristy hugs her daughter with tears of her own in her eyes, “Luke went somewhere else, without Bo. Only Luke is back.”

“Oh,” Jamie says as a new set of tears bursts from her eyes.

 

 

***BO DUKE***

 

My body throbs with intense pain as I fight back the harsh darkness that surrounds me while fiery pain quickly evaporates the little air I am able to breathe in. Struggling for some light within the thick darkness that surrounds me, my world seems to revolve quickly in circles as I fight for breath despite the pain. From somewhere in the distance, I can hear someone saying my name, or what sounds to be my name. After a long moment of fighting against the darkness, forms begin to build within darkness of blurred vision before the darkness lightens enough to find myself within a dark room, a tall lean figure sits besides me. “Bo,” his voice is alerted with a hint of excitement as I fight against the blurred vision to make out the form of LB.

“L-” I attempt to say to force more pain to explode within my throbbing body, my throbbing chest and lungs; and I am violently thrown into an asthmatic attack. I heave heavily for air as I slowly sit up from lying upon an cold floor to send the room to rush quickly around me. Fighting for air, I shove my hand into my pocket, trying to find the inhaler that is no longer there and fear quickly spreads across me.

“Damn it,” LB finally speaks up besides me, his words are laced with panic and fear as I gulp desperately for air that won’t come, for breath that won’t come or go. Gulping for air I continue to harshly cough harshly and wheezily, reminding me of one of my worst asthma attack I had years ago, forcing me to spend a week in the hospital, “they took everything when they threw us in here.”

“They?” I gasp out between coughs as fear thickens within me, “Who’s they? Where..are…we?”

“I don’t know, somewhere dark and dreary, we’ve been here for over a day and a half so far. I’ve been keeping tabs on my watch,” LB says besides me as he places a cold hand to my forehead, “and as for who they are, they’re trouble that’s who. . .I caught them doing business in Capital City. They must have followed me to Hazzard. Damn it, if I hadn’t came here, y’all wouldn’t -”

“Don’t blame,” I gasp for air, “yourself. I wanna…go home.”

Silence soon begins to build within the chilly dark room as I slowly fight to sit up more from my slouched position only to send more pain quivering through my body and a low moan of pain escapes from me. “Easy there Bo, you took a pretty good blow when you jumped,” LB nervously says as he slowly helps me, “you musta landed on rock instead of grass as I had. You’ve been unconscious for over a day and a half now, you’ve had me worried.”

I glance over at him as my vision steadily clears and I slowly take him in as I find a large ugly bruise covering his left cheek with a dried crusted blood cut. Clenching tightly onto my throbbing chest, I am slowly reminded of what had happened, of jumping out of the car where I had been swallowed by the darkness I had just climbed out of. Fighting to control my breathing, I painfully rise my right hand to bring it to my throbbing head to feel dried blood upon my own face, running down my right cheek.

Tears slowly travel down my pain numbed cheeks as the blackness threatens to wash over me once again as a rush of chills run across my body, forcing my stomach to churn within me. “Stay with me, Bo,” LB says besides me as he puts another concerned hand up on my forehead and I flinch in pain that his touch creates, “Damn it, you get warmer with each passing minute,” he sighs roughly as I once again begin coughing forcefully, “stay with me buddy…help will come. We just need to have faith.”

“I hurt,” I slowly say, sounding as if I am distant and far away from my own self as darkness quickly washes over me once again.

 

***LUKE DUKE***

 

Despite the darkness that the day’s events will bring this afternoon, a small smile forms upon my face as I silently go through my visit to Daisy, only minutes ago. The sight of her awaken and glowing with recovery lurking around her, is a true miracle, her ambition and her temper had been as alive as it has always been before. Quickly the small smile that had began to firm upon my face, disappears as she forces the truth out of me, extracting my whereabouts the past month to the death of Bo. Grief and sadness had quickly eaten the life and excitement she had at seeing me with the news of Bo, anger at the news where I had been; not anger at me, but towards the FBI for making such a dumb mistake. She was the Daisy I had always knew.

Climbing into the driver’s seat of my uncle’s old and used Ford truck, my mind rumbles emotionally through me, from angered thought to angered thought, painful thought to painful thought. Listening to the strong roar of the ignition, I slowly back out of my tight parking spot and numbly begin to drive towards the exit of the parking lot, onto a dirt road. Abruptly, my thoughts are shattered as a black expensive car rushes by the entry of the hospital’s parking lot, looking at the bumper in gold cursive writing, reads JAGUAR. My heart rushes within me at the sight of the expensive car, the car that had ran Kristy off of the road, and most likely the car that had ran Bo off the road.

Intense anger washes through me at the sight of the dreaded car that has done so much damage to Hazzard, to my family. Feeding upon the anger that throbs within me, I slowly pull Jesse’s truck onto the dirt road, in the direction that the car is heading. Emotions rages angrily within me as I keep solid eye contact upon the bumper of the car, refusing to let the car get out of sight. Keeping a cautious distance between me and the men within the car, I continue to follow him as he turns off onto another road; with hope that he will take me to where they have been hidden at, with thought of revenge.

A short moment evaporates between us before the car slowly turns into a drive way that lies between a metal fence, the fence is surrounded by thick thorns and bushes to ensure some privacy. For a short moment, I stop besides the fence, where my truck is hidden by the bushes and thorns as my mind washes through me, searching for what I should do. After a long moment of hesitation, I throw the truck into park and climb out of the cab, leaving the door open, I reluctantly walk up to the mouth of the gate. Remain hidden behind the tall thick bushes, I carefully peer around the edge to find a tall muscular man with dark brown hair in beige khaki pants and a dark black blazer. I watch with unease as a few more men pile out from behind the wheel of the car while my attention remains on the muscular man that represents power and authority before I realize that he is the man I had seen at the Boar’s Nest when I fell into their table. My heart stops abruptly in recognition as the man removes the dark glasses that had covered his glasses, nervously he looks around before yelling something at the large beefy man who nods. After a long moment that seems to pass into an eternity, they slowly climb up the steps of an old and abandoned wooden farm house that looks to have been abandoned for several years. Windows are now covered by planks of wood, several wood on the deck has been broken out or lost somehow, while the paint is now scrapped off leaving the moldy wood bare to elements, the yard holds several holes with weeds spurting out from the brown grass.

Watching the last of the three men disappear in the house, leaving the driver by the car, I quickly rush back to the truck. Grabbing the CB I quickly place a call into Rosco before getting Agent Mills on the line where I quickly inform them where their men are hidden. “Don’t move, don’t touch anything,” Mills hisses through the CB before hanging up on me.

 

***

 

Minutes add up to fifteen before Mills’ black Sedan parks behind my truck followed by two other Sedans, all of which hold several men. My heart races within reality as I watch the agents slowly gather out, carefully remain hidden behind the bushes. “How you find it?” Mills asks as he approaches where I sit in the cab of my truck, the door stays open.

“I followed it here after I saw it pass by the hospital,” I slowly answer and I quickly receive disapproving glares from him and several of his men, “they didn’t see me.”

“Still a dumb thing to do…they’ve killed more than once before and wouldn’t think twice of doing it again,” Mills hisses at me once again as one of his men that had went to look past the gates returns, nodding that it is the car they were looking for. Turning to face a couple of his men he orders, “I want you and Bradston to sneak in there and grab the driver…watch what you are doing, we will be on look out at the fence,” the two tall men nods before they head towards the entrance and several men follow, remaining at the gate. After watching the two men disappear within the boundaries of the property, Mills returns his hard gaze onto me, “You, I want you to stay here.”

I hesitantly nod as he stares harshly at me for a long moment before he stealthily walks over to the edge of the gate to watch his men kidnap the men’s driver. After a long moment the two agents return dragging a tall broad shoulder man dressed in an expensive black suit and a neatly ironed white dress shirt. I watch for a short moment as they roughly throw a pair of handcuffs onto his wrists that has been shoved to his back, they read him his rights in a monotone voice while other agents stare through the gate at the farm house. Glaring at the driver, I silently wonder what all had brought my family to where they are, where I am now.

Staring numbly at the men lined up against the black metal fence, my mind returns to my lost cousin that the men had taken away from me. From his funeral that will start only a few hours from now and will hold several mourning people for both LB and Bo. Once again tears of pain and anger filter within my eyes as I am left to wonder how anyone would want to hurt Bo, to kill such a good person, someone as innocent as Bo. They might as well as have killed an innocent child. A lone tear streaks my cheek and I angrily wipe it away with the back of my hand as I fight to put the thought of the funeral behind me for now; only to be replaced by old memories of Bo. I am reminded of the talk on the hill I had with him only a week or so before all this started, about changing for the better, how understanding he had been, so excited to hear that I was willing to try to return to the person I had been before I left. Peering into his innocence that chilly morning had changed, had shifted the person I had became during war into wanting to be the person Bo saw in me. And now it’s too late to change for him…

Abruptly, my thoughts are interrupted as yelling and obscenities are shouted out and I look up to find the gate to be empty, them rushing into the property of the farm house. Fear throbs within my chest as I look at the man they had chained to the fence before I numbly step out of the truck, despite what Mills had ordered me to do. I cautiously step up to the edge of the gate and slowly glance over to find the FBI only a few feet ahead of me, facing several large men with guns of all sizes; though the man of authority remains missing throughout them. After a short moment of silence of them staring at one another, a few men yelling out in anger, the large beefy man, looking to be a quarter back quickly fires off a couple of rounds. Three rounds lodges deeply within one of the agent’s chest, blood squirts out as his limp body is thrown harshly onto the ground and he is covered with blood and weeds.

Vivid flashbacks of warm flood my mind as a few more gun shots are let out from both sides as fear rushes through me. Suddenly, the old flimsy screen door is thrown open, catching everyone’s attention and as I look up, I find it to be the man in charge. Seeing the man of authority my heart comes to an abrupt halt at seeing him forcing Bo out onto the wooden deck, a sharp hunting knife is tightly applied to Bo’s neck. “Bo,” I silently say under my breath at seeing my cousin who stands limply in front of the man, dried blood covers his right side of his face while his left side of his chin is blackly bruised.

“Unless you want him to die, y’all will drop your guns,” the man’s thick voice yells out harshly as he tightens his hold upon Bo. My attention remains on Bo whose clothes are thickly stained and fresh blood covers the died blood upon his face, from the reopening of the cut upon his forehead. My heart comes to an stop as chills rush up my body at the emptiness that fills Bo’s eyes as he silently glares out into space, an emptiness that never occupied his eyes; usually his eyes was a clear window of what lies within him, from pain, happiness, calmness, and love, or fear. Yet now, his eyes possess harsh shallowness, emptiness. “Drop it!” the man’s voice booms as the knife presses into Bo’s neck and the men slowly do as they are told to do.

Fear strikes within me at seeing Bo upon the porch with the threat of the knife at his neck, and yet no fear or despair within his eyes. My mind wonders thickly through me as I quickly glance around me in knowledge that if, which is a big IF, if the FBI does what they are told, the man will most likely kill Bo once he gets what he wants. Taking a last look at Bo, I quickly disappear through the bushes and around the corner of the metal fence as my find wonders through a divisible plan. After a short moment, I reach the back side of the farm house and it’s metal fence that lies bare while I listen to the shouting in the front of the house, praying against prayer that Bo will be OK. Holding onto hope, I steadily climb the fence and silently jump down onto the damp muddy ground as I slowly take in the back of the big farm house before finding a back door.

Climbing the cement stairs to the back door, I pray for it to be unlocked and that all the men that is apart of the gang is out front with the FBI. Yanking at the wooden door, I sigh in relief and nervousness as the door squeaks open and I find myself in a dusty dirty kitchen. Dirty dishes and cardboard boxes of food lies open on the counters as well as on the card table they used as a kitchen table. The air is moldy and reeks of smoke, illegal and cigarette smoke and I slowly make my way through the kitchen to walk out into an large living room that lies as dirty as the kitchen with paper scattered through out, laundry bags of what I presume to be of their guns and drugs line the far wall and a portable TV as well as a radio lie on the floor in the other corner. Holding my breath I slowly walk past the stairs to walk down the hall to sneakily peer into three bedrooms and a bathroom, all of which lies dirty with stains, cigarette ashes, dirty clothes, and smells of sweat and drugs.

Walking back to the stair way I walk down a flight of stairs to a landing where the door lies and I silently peer through the window and sigh heavily at seeing Bo still alive, though remains tightly captive by the knife man. Bending down so the window won’t show me, I find an old hand gun in the corner and I slowly pick it up to find it loaded. Tucking it into my belt I slowly walk down the last flight of stairs to find myself with an end, two doors are on both sides of me. Slowly I open the right door to find a messy and sloppy laundry room, more laundry bags are stacked in a corner and a money case lies open on the old dryer, full of bills and coins. Slowly I close the door as the smell becomes to poignet and I fight back on gagging of the strong order of drugs, alcohol, and cigarette smoke.

Turning to face the other door I sigh before I slowly open it to find it to be densely dark and the smell only intensifies along with a strong order of illness and of puke; something I grew accustomed to with all my hospital visits. Slowly my eyes grows accustom to the darkness as the chill of the room sends chills up and down my trembling body. Forcing myself to step into the room, into the strong order of sickness, a lean dark figure comes into sight in the back corner. “Luke?” a weak voice rings out as I get a few feet from the shadow, my foot becomes slimed with something that lies on the cement ground.

I look nervously at the figure as it rises and I find it to be LB Davenport who looks half as beaten as Bo does outside. “Shh..yeah come on,” I motion for him to follow him as I fight back slipping on whatever has covered the bottom of my boot. Slowly I find our way back into the moldy hallway and to the stairs where I hold onto the railing to fail from falling. Climbing to the landing in front of the door, I turn back to LB, “They have Bo captive outside, I am going to sneak up on him and try to free him. I want you to stay crouched down here. I will come back for you when I am done.”

“OK,” he silently nods before he slowly does as I am told.

I look nervously out through the window to find everyone still in the position that they had been before I left to find LB and I silently go through my plan. Crouching down, I gently open the door while grabbing the gun I had tucked into my pants before stepping out into the deck. Abruptly I place a strong left arm around the man’s muscular neck while I dig the barrel of the gun into his temple and he gasps in surprise. “You drop the knife and let go of my cousin or you will find a bullet lodged deeply into your head,” I threaten as I press the gun tighter to his temple as if for demonstration, “tell your men to do the same.”

I glance over the group of men who stares up at me in surprise as my heart tightens in fear and grief at hearing Bo wheeze heavily within his grip, struggling painful for air and by the sounds of it, losing his fight for air. “Yeah right,” the man’s thick voice gives a nervous laugh, “you expect me to believe you? I’ll have your cousin’s head tore off before that bullet goes through.”

“You wanna test me, huh? You actually expect me to be dumb enough to believe that you will let him go once you get out of here a free man? Nah you ain’t stupid either…you’ll just finish him off once you get what you want…you wouldn’t want to leave a witness,” I hiss into his ear while tightening my grip around his neck and pressing the gun tighter into his temple, “you let him go and your knife go or you’ll be taking your last breath here,” I once again threaten and as he tightens his grip upon Bo who has went silent within his grip, I tighten my own grip out of fear for my cousin. Sights of an reality funeral flash behind my eyes as a low moan of pain escapes from Bo, which would have been a yell if he was able to breathe.

“You had your chance,” I mutter angrily in his ear as my arm strangles around his neck and he hisses out of attempt for his own air and I press the gun tighter to his temple and I am left to imagine his _expression. As he remains a tight hold on Bo, his knife pressed tighter against Bo’s neck, I quickly cock the gun at his temple before my finger presses lightly onto the trigger.

Abruptly the man begins to sweat in nerves as he slowly drops the hunting knife and I quickly kick it away before he harshly tosses Bo, who limply falls face first into the railing before falling down the stairs. I cock the gun once again and he gasps before saying, “Drop your guns,” he slowly says and his men looks blankly at him, “now…drop it!” Quickly the men drop the guns a few feet in front of them while Mills and his men slowly picks theirs up.

“Walk with me, nice and easy,” I whisper in the man’s ear as my arm remains tightly around his throat. I breathe heavily as I follow him down the steeps stairs and I carefully step around Bo who lies silently in the dirt before walking past his men and straight to Mills who yanks out handcuffs as I hand him his man. With the capture of the leader, the followers are quickly arrested as they give into the higher authority.

With the killer out of my possession, I quickly turn and walk briskly to Bo who lies in the mud covered in mud and blood, lies silently still. “Bo,” I say urgently as I lean over him to take a pulse from his bloody neck and get a small pulse with no breathing. I look up as one of the agents rush up to me, holding an air tank that they carry in their trunks. “Thanks,” I gasp breathlessly myself as I take it from him, “LB, the other prisoner is behind the door.”

He nods before saying, “An ambulance is on it’s way.”

I silently nod as I place Bo’s bloody head upon my lap as he walks up the steps to get LB from his slim hiding spot and my attention goes back to Bo. “C’mon buddy, help is on it’s way,” I silently comfort him, running a hand through his soft hair and as my hand brushes against his bruising forehead, I notice how warm he is. “Damn it, c’mon buddy,” I urge him as I become stricken with fear as my imagination fills in the blanks of where the smell of sickness in the basement had came from, of what I had stepped in that was so slimy and wet.

“How is he?” LB says as he slowly walks up to me, kneeling besides Bo, “He spent the first day and a half unconscious before waking up, where he came in and out of consciousness. He refused to say much to me…his asthma prevented it mostly that and getting sick.”

I numbly nod as his information slowly process within me while my attention remains on Bo, thinking of his past, praying for his future. “Hopefully help will come here soon,” I slowly say, fighting to keep the calmness in my voice as I feel a tear of fear trail down my chilled cheeks. A brief moment slowly fills between us before Bo’s eyes weakly flutters open and more chills spread through my body at seeing how empty and shallow they remain even with the help of an air tank. “Bo!” I say with minimal excitement at seeing him awake and he glares at me or through me.

“I wanna go home,” he mutters from behind the mask, “I ” he pauses as he fights to inhale the air, “hurt.”

“I know buddy…I know,” I soothe him as I run my hand through his hair, wondering why his eyes remain empty of any feeling that he would normally show, even fear and pain, “I am right here…I am not gonna leave you, OK?” he slowly nods in agreement, “Help is on it’s way, you are going to be alright. You hear me? Everything will be alright, buddy.”

Staring off into space he slowly nods before he throws a weak arm up to his air mask and panic flows through me as he harshly tears it off of his head. Before I can react by replacing it over his head, he begins choking up thick throw up over himself and over LB and me. After a long moment he rests a tired wary head that is damp with sweat despite the chilly air that brushes up against our bodies. Assured that he is finished I quickly replace the mask over his mouth and nose as he returns to his harsh struggle for air and he slowly settles down onto the cold ground. “S- sorry,” he stutters as I glance down to find him shivering and I quickly take my denim coat off to carefully place it over him.

“It’s OK,” I slowly reassure him as sirens wail off in the distance and I silently pray for it to hurry, “help is on it’s way, buddy. You hear it?”

He hesitantly nods while his eyes and _expression remain empty of any emotions or any reactions and my mind ushers it’s way to Jesse, how he will react when he finds all this out. A long moment of silence passes between the three of us before the ambulance slowly drives up into the drive way, several agents rush out of it’s way. Looking back down, I find Bo’s eyes closed and his breathing to have slowed down since a moment ago and as I nervously reach for his pulse his eyes slowly flutter open. “Here they come,” LB says besides me as he puts a caring hand on Bo’s shoulder and Bo glares over at LB, glaring into emptiness.

Reluctantly, I slowly step away from Bo as two young paramedics slowly place the stretcher beside’s Bo’s chilled, still body. Bo abruptly jumps as if surprised as the paramedics gently lift him upon the stretcher and as Bo glares over at the two paramedics at his side, he slowly begins to struggle against them. “It’s OK Bo, they’re your help…they are only helping you,” I slowly step up to him so he is able to see me and I quickly walk ahead of the thin black paramedic, “I’m right here…I’m not gonna leave you.”

Reaching the ambulance the driver slowly walks around to help them slide the stretcher into the back and they usher both LB and I into the back. Bending over to walk, I slowly take a seat besides Bo’s head while LB sits next to me. “I’m cold,” Bo moans as his chest heaves heavily for air as the paramedics climb in. I watch warily as they quickly get to work on Bo with placing in two IV’s, forcing Bo to flinch in discomfort as well as replacing the FBI’s air tank with one of their own. Ripping Bo’s shirt apart, they quickly insert suction onto his chest that is lightly covered in dark blond hairs, their monitors only pick up very slow and soft heart beats. “I hurt.”

“I know buddy, I know,” I slowly run a hand through his hair before the other paramedic places a cotton pad upon his reopen cut and tapes it on for support. Instantly the cotton is drenched in black-red blood and the paramedic slowly moves to LB, working on his wounds he had received during the last couple of days.

 

 

***UNCLE JESSE***

 

Tears of fear and sadness sting in my eyes as I glare out through my closed window at the scenery that slowly passes us by, of old farm houses and farm land. Several proud hills rolls off in the distance filled with patches of trees and open land; several scenes I had once taken comfort in. Yet today, it all is just land without any meaning, without any comfort as my mind spins clearly within me. Thoughts of the past events that has led me to this horrid day to the past twenty-two and a half years of watching Bo grow up in pain and fear, of watching him learn new things, of learning who he is slowly run through my head. From the first day I had seen him to the last time I had seen him when he had left me in the kitchen with my angered emotions, from happy memories to sad memories, from painful memories to joyous memories; all of Bo. Without him, life will never be the same, I have no doubt that life will go on, it has in the past when I had lost everyone else, but it won’t be the same. Bo is the one that made me feel like I mattered, what I did matter, as if I was needed. Luke and Daisy can go on without me, they’d miss me, but they’d go on with their lives with little thought of looking back; where as Bo…

Slowly I force my attention away from the peaceful scenery down onto the black tuxedo that hangs loosely onto me and chills rush through me. Tears gently brush against my chilled cheeks as I take in the odd picture of me wearing an uncomfortable tux, something Bo would never have imagined me wearing. And yet I am wearing it to his own funeral. Picking off imaginary lent from my black pants leg, my mind continues to play vivid flash backs of the past of watching Bo grow up, of all he had gone through, through his short life. I sigh heavily as I try to force myself to believe that, this is what was meant to be, this is how Bo was to leave this earth onto a better place, a place where he will feel no more pain and no more fear. He is in a better place and yet I remain selfish. It can’t be his time to leave me, leave me here all alone without even saying good-bye. I had hardly told him bye as he had left that late morning to meet up with LB as I had been swallowed up with my own emotions, to involved in how I had felt about Luke and Daisy. Not even giving it a thought that, that may be the last I would see him, the last chance I would get to tell him how much I am proud of him, how much I loved him.

Wiping the tears from my tear stained cheeks and eyes before peering out my side window to force my heart to come to an abrupt stop in confusion as I find ourselves on a different road, a road that doesn’t lead us to the church or to the grave. “Where are you going, Cooter?” I ask harshly as I glance down at my watch, “The funeral starts in less that twenty minutes. If we don’t go now we will be late for their -”

“There is something I need to tell you…I got a phone call right before I left to pick you up,” he slowly says, his attention remains on the road ahead, “they arrested the correct killers.”

“That’s great Cooter,” I say as I fight to hide my alertness, “but we still need to go to Bo’s and LB’s funeral.”

“That’s the second part I want to talk to you about,” he looks over at me, “Luke was the one that found their location and had called it in.” He pauses for a short moment as he studies the road ahead of him before speaking up again, explaining in detail of how Luke had rescued Bo, saved Bo and LB. “They are both have been taken to the hospital for observation. According to Luke, Bo couldn’t breathe by himself was running a temperature and getting sick.”

“You mean,” I grasp for words as I sit stunned in the passenger seat, glaring down at my ridiculous outfit, “you mean, he’s alive?”

“And that is where we are going…to the hospital,” he sighs, “figured with them still alive, that there was no need to go to the funeral. I already called and canceled everything, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” I blurt out as my thoughts quickly process within me of all that he had just said before reality slowly settles within me, of all that he may have had been forced to go through, of the pain he is in. But he’s alive.

 

****

 

For a long moment I stare at the slow moving minute hand of the circular wall clock that hangs above the nurses station before glancing over at Luke and Cooter. It’s been a little less than an hour since we have arrived at the hospital to join Luke, who remains at the window, glaring out into the gloomy afternoon. My mind numbly shifts from thought to thought, from the events that had led us here to the possibilities that lie ahead of us, of all that could be wrong with Bo. Once again I fall silently into prayer for my nephew’s health as well as for LB, praying for my family’s future.

“Dukes,” a husky male’s voice brings me out of my prayer and back into the reality of the waiting room. Abruptly I look up to find a lanky doctor with dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray, thin wire glasses cover his dark green-brown eyes.

“That’s us,” Luke is the first to reach him with LB and I close behind him, “how’s my cousin?”

“I’m his doctor, Dr. Whindler,” he introduces us by the name on his gold name tag, “your cousin seems to be pretty lucky as of yet…he suffers from a concussion and the deep cut he suffered last month was reopened, we cleaned it up and placed in more stitches. He has broken a rib that has scratched his lungs as well as bruising a couple more ribs…a lot of bruises and cuts. We have currently given him medication to lower his high temperature and it has decreased greatly since we have given him the injection. The only thing we are currently worried about at the moment is his breathing, which is very weak and minimal at the moment, he is need of help from the machine. Without the medication from his inhaler during an attack and the scraping from his rib has made his breathing painful and intolerable at the moment. We are hoping it to get better with some help from the machine and with medication. We will want him to stay here for a few days for observation, for at least until his breathing becomes more steady.”

“How’s LB?” Cooter slowly asks as the doctor slowly finishes up, leaving my mind tumbling over the information he has given us about Bo.

“He suffered a slight concussion along with several cuts and bruises,” Whindler answers, “a few cuts in need of stitching along with a couple of broken ribs and a few bruised one. He is in his room getting ready to go at the moment.”

Silence soon filters between us before I ask, “Can I see Bo?”

“One at a time,” the doctor replies dryly as he slowly turns and walks down another hall way and I begin to follow him. After a long moment he stops in front of a closed door, “He’s in there.”

“Thank-you,” I smile slightly at him before I slowly open the heavy door to be welcomed in by slow beeping of the monitors. For a brief moment I stand near the closed door as I allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness that lingers throughout the room before gathering strength to slowly step up to the bed. My heart comes to an halt as I stare down into the bruised face of my young nephew whose forehead holds a fresh bandage around his darkly bruised cut. The doctor’s worry and concern for Bo’s breathing rushes through me as I stare at the tube that is placed tightly within each one of Bo’s nostrils as well as three IVs that are punctured into his arms. Lying besides him on his night stand lies an closed box of a new inhaler for Bo, for whenever he awakens and feels like he needs it. Seeing the past in his still body, in the fear that rushes through me, I struggle back the horrid memories of watching him fight for his young life in this hospital, of all he had gone through.

Taking a seat upon the old fold up chair, I slowly run my hand through his damp hair, taking a silent moment to compose my thoughts, myself. “I’m right here, Bo,” I slowly say, “it’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.”

I am greeted by harsh silence from him as I watch him sleeping through the pain he must feel while listening to the harsh wheezing that escapes from his minimal breathing he is allowed. Protectively, I place a hand upon his forehead, feeling the warmth of it before resting a hand upon his chest, feeling the slow rise of his chest every few seconds. Taking a deep breath of my own, I slowly walk over to the window to find that the sprinkling has turned into a gentle rain. Light gray clouds cover the sky that had once been filled with sun shine while my mind races within me, filled with concern and worry for my nephew.

“Unc. . .le, “a weak voice grasps desperately for air with little success, “Jes. . .se.”

My heart pounds within me at hearing Bo’s voice, despite weak and complicated by his problematic breathing, sends chills of joy throughout me. Turning around from the window I find him watching me through chilled blue eyes, slightly watered by moist tears. Taking a couple of steps closer to his bed, I silently recall Luke telling me how empty Bo’s eyes had been, empty of any emotions or reactions. Bo always has his emotions spread across his face, within his eyes no matter how hard he may try to hide his feelings from people; his emotional disorder makes it impossible for him to hide how he feels. And yet as I look into his eyes I see the emptiness that Luke had been talking about.

“Bo,” I whisper into his ear as I pull him into a tight hug that he weakly returns before I slowly force myself to let go of him, “how you feel?”

“I hurt,” he forces out as his chest heaves heavily in and out in his struggle for air, forcing a loud wheezing sound to escape from him. He goes silent for a long moment as pain slowly creep into his empty eyes slowly accompanied by fear, “I ca. . .n’t brea. . the.”

“I know,” I slowly respond as shiver of relief ripples through me as emotions clearly cloud his dark blue eyes, sending tears shimmering across them. Picking up the box next to his bed, I slowly begin to open it before pulling out a red cased inhaler to hand it over to him. “Here’s your new inhaler…they couldn’t find your old one.”

He nods tiredly as his eye lids become heavy and he glares into the inhaler in his hand before glancing back up at me before asking, “Why…you wearin’ that…for?”

I give him a small smile as I fight for a simple explanation that he would take at the moment before slowly responding, “Nothing any more…guess I wanted to see how I looked in it. I haven’t worn it for a while and all,” I pause as he glares at me, fighting against sleep that lands heavily within him, “why don’t you get some sleep…I will go get Luke to come by for a visit so you can talk to him when you awaken.”

He slowly nods before he is over come with sleep and I am left to watch him doze into dream land once again as my mind continues to turn over old memories. His breathing continues to be soft and slow despite the help from the air tubes in his nose, the little breathing he is allowed, forces a loud wheezing noise out of him. The same wheezing noise he had given while he had slept when growing up.

***LUKE DUKE***

 

Exhaustion rushes through my trembling body as I stare warily at the closed door with watchful eyes, while my mind rushes with in me. Thoughts of the past few months rush through my head of all that has happened since I have returned home from war, of how selfish I had been to saving Bo from the gun man. A sense of relief rushes through me of being able to rescue a man that had been announced dead for over three days, of something everyone so easily accepted. Watching the closed door that leads to my cousin’s room, I am suddenly lost in prayer of gratitude of Bo being alive and once again free as well as gratitude towards my own freedom.

My thoughts are abruptly interrupted as the door is harshly thrown open Sergeant Mills and Sergeant Mueller briskly walks out of Bo’s room with content looks upon their hardened faces. Intense excitement rushes through my tired body at seeing them leaving his room as my thoughts shift for the near future that lies behind the door they just closed. I had saved Bo only two days ago from the horrid gun man that would have taken Bo’s and LB’s life, they had killed several times before, killing Bo or LB wouldn’t mean a thing to them. They had taken Bo and LB as hostage after their plan had back fired, their plan of rushing them off of the cliff, making their deaths look like an accident; instead Bo and LB had jumped out of the vehicle before it had landed. Their jumps had caused great damages, but nothing compared to the consequences if they hadn’t jumped; we’d be looking over freshly dug graves at the moment. The killers had taken them hostage in order to get what they wanted, a safe free way out of Hazzard, once out of Hazzard, Mills is sure they would have killed them no matter what. Witnesses are always a risk.

The last couple of days has seemed to last an eternity of lost time as I had sought to find comfort from Bo, from seeing him in person, alive and recovering. I had been quickly detained from visiting Bo due to long hours in court due to my arrest upon my attempted shine run and several more long hours of recorded interviews with the FBI. The only contact I have had with Bo since they had taken him into the ER a couple of days ago, has been through Jesse or Cooter or LB or any other family that has gone in to see him.

“Well I think that has wrapped it all up,” Mills says as they approach me and for the first time since meeting him, his creamy blue eyes almost seem soft compared to his hard looks he had given me in the past few weeks, “we have interviewed everyone that was involved and got most evidence obtained. We thank-you for your cooperation and apologize for the inconvenience. You are free to go in and see your cousin.”

I return his smile and he sets out his hand and we slowly shake hands with one another before I say, “Thank-you…for everything.”

“We don’t need no thanks…it is you that had brought us to the correct men and it is you who brought them down,” Mueller speaks up before elbowing his partner in the ribs, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh that’s right,” Mills smiles as he loses his hand into an inner pocket of his black windbreaker before it reappears holding a long piece of paper, “we the state award you, Luke Duke, fifteen hundred dollars for finding the men who had killed two of our best agents plus other harsh laws that they had broke,” he pauses as he hands me the paper and I turn it over to find it to be a check written out for what they said it to be, “They had a reward hanging over them for locating them and you did more than that. Thank-you.”

I stare at the paper for a long moment in disbelief before looking back up at them in awe as I fight for words. “Well we don’t want to keep you waiting any longer,” Mueller smiles at me as he offers me his hand and I quickly take it to shake his hands, “bye.”

“Thanks,” I point to the check before I slowly send a small wave as I watch them slowly walk down the wide halls before I look at the closed door that separates me from Bo. My heart rushes within me with excitement as I slowly place the check into my back pocket and slowly open the door. Walking into the dimly lit hospital room, I am welcomed by the too familiar beeping of the heart and breathing monitor as my eyes slowly take in my cousin who lies upon the bed, looking at a magazine. A white bandage is wrapped around his head to cover the harsh bruising that surrounds the lining of the bandage while his left jaw is darkly bruised, a air tube is shoved up his nose and three IVs repeatedly drips into him.

A brief moment passes as I watch him look through the magazine with tired eyes before I take another step to attract his attention and his face instantly lightens up in child-like excitement at seeing me. “Luke!” he smiles up at me as he instantly closes the magazine he was looking at and as I step up to the bed I find it to be an car magazine. I smile down at him before I grab him into a tight hug as I fight back the tears of happy emotions begin to simmer in my eyes before I wipe them away. A long moment passes before I force myself to let him go and take another look at him to send more excitement rippling through my body at seeing him awake, seeing him alive, at seeing intense emotions instead of empty. Replacing his child-like excitement with seriousness Bo throws his eyes across his body before warily looking up at me to say, “Thank-you for,” he quickly is sent into coughing before his coughing resides into wheezing, “for saving me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I give him an understanding smile as I run my hand th rough his thick hair, temporarily feeling his forehead to find it to be warm but not as hot as it had been the other day, “How you feel?”

“A little better,” he slowly answers before eyeing his new inhaler that sits on the night stand besides him along with a glass of water, “I guess.”

Silence slowly follows as I slowly sit down upon the old metal fold up chair that lies open a foot from his metal railings of his hospital bed. Watching him momentarily, I am reminded of Bo’s painful past, of visiting him in the hospital when he got so sick or had such a bad asthma attack that it needed medical assistance. The silence is quickly punctured as the door squeaks open behind me and I slowly turn around to find Uncle Jesse wheeling Daisy in the room in a wheel chair, while LB, Cooter, Kristy, Garrett, Brodie, and Dobro soon follows them into the room. “Uncle Bo!” Jamie yells in excitement as she rushes over to Bo’s bed, “You’re alive!”

“Of course I am,” Bo looks confused at the little girl in front of him whose sandy brown hair is up in pig tails and wears a denim jumper before looking back at me for support, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“They all said you died in that accident,” Jamie quickly begins to answer his confused question, “Uncle Jesse even had a wake for you and LB, there was going to be a funeral too for you, but mom got a call as we were heading out the door,” Jamie shrugs, “and she changed her mind about going, I guess.”

Silence soon follows her explanation as Bo looks up at me to Uncle Jesse for further explanation before guessing he wasn’t going to get any. “Well I’m not dead,” Bo slowly smiles at her as he lends her a weak hug before she yells with excitement before running back to Kristy who holds Shay who struggles to get down. Hesitantly, Kristy sets Shay down who slowly wobbles over to Bo’s bed before letting out a cry in frustration at the height of the bed.

“Look at him walk,” Daisy smiles behind a faded bruised face, “how old is he now?”

“He’ll be a year next month. . . April 30th,” Kristy answers as she watches Shay clinging onto the bed before I slowly pick him up to see Bo.

“Bo,” Shay giggles at Bo before he motions to be set down upon the bed and I hesitantly set him down, remaining at his side. “Bo,” he says again with a broad smile as Bo gives him a small hug before Shay slowly settles down, lying down besides Bo, resting his blond head upon Bo’s shoulder.

“Oooh how cute,” LB smiles from the corner as he watches Shay make his spot besides Bo, placing a thumb into his toothless mouth, “too bad we don’t have a camera.”

“Show how soft Bo really is,” Cooter chimes in to send a wave of laughter between LB, Cooter, Garrett, and Dobro.

A moment of silence slowly revolves around the small dimly lit room as Jesse slowly wheels Daisy’s wheel chair up to Bo’s bed besides me and I give her a small smile. “Daisy,” Bo says with a raspy voice as he continues to wheeze desperately for air, “h-how are you?”

“I’m doin’ alright sugar, no need to worry about me,” Daisy offers him a small smile as she pats him on his lower left arm, “I am being released in the morning. How are you?”

Bo sleepily shrugs his shoulders as he eyes everyone in the room before eyeing Shay who has fallen asleep upon his shoulder. “I wanna go home,” Bo finally wheezes as he looks up at Jesse with begging eyes.

“I know you do,” Jesse sighs besides me, “they say it should be another day or so before they are willing to let you go, for some more observation of your breathing.”

“I’m fi-” Bo slowly begins to say, his weak voice holds a harsh amount of stubbornness compared to how weak it is, before being interrupted by a harsh coughing attack to spread pain across his face.

“Shhhh, it’s OK,” I slowly comfort him as I run a hand through his hair and he glances up at me as his coughing resides into loud wheezing as he fights for air, “you’ll be outta here before you know it,” I pause long enough to watch Garrett slowly picking Jamie up at the end of the bed as he watches silently, “Oh I have something for you,” I force an unsteady grin at him as I grab everyone’s attention as I reach into my back pocket and pull the check out it to Bo, “Sergeant Mills gave it to me, but I figure it should go to you instead.”

Bo looks at the check momentarily before glancing back up at me, “What is this for?”

“The killers had an reward hanging around their necks for anyone who would find them and turn them into authorities. . .you are the one that caught onto their trail first,” I slowly shrug.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Bo gives me a questioning look before sending it to Jesse, “we all went out to look, but they found us first…we never found much of anything of where they might have been. What I hear it was this guy named Ethan that came forth with the evidence of the tape and what not. . .”

“Perhaps not, but you would have caught on sooner or later if they had given you the chance,” I shrug, feeling everyone’s eyes on me,” besides you are the one person that never gave up on me, the one person who believed in me from the beginning…you deserve it. I figured perhaps some of it could go for past medical expenses, since the killers are forced to pay for your’s and Daisy’s hospital stay now, and perhaps something for your car. ”

Silence once again lingers within the dim room as Bo tiredly looks at the check before looking back up at me as if about to argue against taking the check, before he hands it to Jesse. “Thank-you,” he wheezes tiredly, looking at me as I slowly nod in understanding before placing a protective hand upon his warm forehead once again.

“Well Bo,” Jesse shifts as he rests against the back of the wheel chair, “we had orders to only spend a moment in here so you can get some rest…Daisy was wantin’ to say hi as well as everyone else here. I think it is time for us leave to allow you to get some sleep.”

“Nite Bo,” Daisy smiles up at him before giving him another comforting squeeze upon his lower arm, “you take care honey.”

Bo slowly nods as his attention shifts from person to person before Kristy slowly steps up to the bed and slowly pulls Shay from Bo who moans in disagreement before falling back to sleep upon her shoulder. “You get feeling better, OK Bo?” Kristy smiles down at Bo with watered green eyes before she bends down to give him a soft kiss upon his forehead before Jamie runs up to her to argue against leaving. Turning to Jamie, Kristy says, “We will see him later, honey, he needs to get some sleep to allow him to feel better.”

“Then can he come over to play with me and Shay?” she pleas before looking up at Bo with saddened eyes.

“We will see,” Kristy smiles at Jamie before saying a last good bye to Bo before walking out with Garrett who turns to give an awkward wave.

 

A brief moment of silence fills the room before everyone slowly leaves after saying a few words of encouragement to Bo, leaving us alone in the room to be a family for a moment. “We all a family again,” Jesse slowly breaks the silence that had hung over us with the departure of everyone else.

“It does,” Daisy gives up a smile before looking up at me, “I am sorry how I had acted before I had left, I know you were only trying to look out for me. I guess I should have listened, huh?”

“You didn’t know…I didn’t know,” I smile at her, “you were right at the time…I was being too protective out of my anger towards Travis, which was uncalled for at the time. Forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” Daisy smiles at me before I follow her look past me towards Bo who fights desperately for air and desperately against sleep that threatens to fall over him, “but I think we should let Bo get some sleep.”

“No,” Bo abruptly answers, glaring over at her before looking pleadingly up at Jesse before fear spreads across his face and somewhere within his dark blue eyes I see the flash backs playing within him, of being held prisoner.

“It’s OK Bo…it’s over and done with,” I slowly run another hand through his hair, fighting to comfort the fears that the killers had installed within him, “you are safe at last…everyone is safe. Daisy is here and healing, I’m free, and you are going to be OK. As Jesse says, we all a family again and before you know it, you’ll be out of here and back at the farm where life will return back to normal.”

“Or as normal as it gets in Hazzard,” Daisy smiles placing a hand through his bars to hold tightly onto Bo’s stiff hand.

“We’ll be by in the morning,” Jesse presses by me and slowly gives him a tight hug, sending comforting words of wisdom into his ear before lying him back down upon his pillow, “Nite Bo.”

“Nite,” Bo slowly responds as his chest begins to heave heavily in his desperate fight for air while I stand next to him as he watches Jesse disappears behind the closed door before looking at me.

A long moment of silence passes between us as I watch him struggling deeply against sleep as he stares at me through his heavy lidded eyes, his eyes radiating with pain and fear. “You wanna talk about it?” I slowly break the silence as I struggle for what to say.

“Not really,” he slowly forces himself to look away for a long moment before looking back at me with watered eyes, “I’ve missed you.”

Drawing him into a tight brotherly hug I fight back the tears of emotions that fight to get out of my grasp, tears of emotions that had been dried through out the long duration of war, drying out with the hardness of war. “I missed you too, buddy,” I wipe my face from behind him as I fight to remain strong for him, as I had done so much in the past. He needs me to be strong, “I missed you too,” I repeat as I slowly let go of him, taking him in as I am filled with pride towards Bo for being who he is, for all that he has done and been through since I have returned from war. “As Jesse said, you get your sleep and we’ll be by in the morning. Perhaps when you get out of here in a couple of days you can show me your car that you have been wanting to show me. . .of what it can do.”

Excitement flushes through his tired eyes before slowly draining before saying, “You’ve already seen it, ridden in it, and drove it. There ain’t much more of it I can show.”

“Sure there is…Cooter says there is a whole story of how it became orange and a whole story of how it became the General Lee,” I smile at him as he rests a hand upon his chest to fill me with worry, “I want you to show me what you can do with it…of course if you don’t want to, then -”

“I want to,” he quickly corrects me with a smile as he fights to hide the pain and I am instantly reminded of the articles Jesse had shown me when Bo first fell into unconsciousness at the Boars Nest with the return of his disease…of his emotional disorder.

“Well you better get some sleep then,” I grin at him before taking a step back and he slowly nods, “nite Bo.”

“Nite,” Bo slowly yawns before he slowly forces himself to relax upon his hardened pillow of his hospital bed. Listening to him wheeze for air, I watch as he slowly fades into sleep, as my mind numbly shifts from the past events to the future that lies ahead for all of us, now that our family is back together. I watch Bo sleep wheezily for a long moment as I allow my thoughts to shift within me before I slowly walk towards the door and slowly turn the switch off, watching the room fade into darkness.

Stepping out into the brightly lit hall way a chill of new born excitement rushes through me at being home once again with the family I love in the farm house I had grew up in.

***THE END***