by: Kristy Duke

Anger and fear roughly rushes through my trembling body as I sit silently on the edge of the old scratched dark blue bench chair seats that line against the beige walls of the small waiting room. My mind silently pictures Garrett lying bloody upon the rain soaked road as LB had described him lying while my thoughts rush from our argument we had in Garrett’s room yesterday. All seeming to happen a lifetime ago. “You want to talk about it, Kris?” LB’s voice drips with concern as he lies a protective hand upon my shoulder, making me jump slightly in surprise, “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you,” I slowly glance up at him over my shoulder to find his green eyes alarmingly filled with emotions, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

“We’re all here for you,” Jesse slowly speaks up to draw my attention onto him who sits in the left corner and I slowly glance around everyone that sits besides me, lining the side wall of the waiting room.

“Thanks,” I slowly respond, the only thing I can think of to say. Once again, I return to glaring down at the bright white linoleum floor while my mind spins wildly within me to force my emotions to dig deeper in me.

“Garrett Duke,” an husky voice brings my attention towards the receptionist’s desk to find an older hefty man standing holding a clipboard with a thick salt and pepper beard and mustache that covers most of his tanned face.

I slowly glance around as Jesse and the boys are the first one to greet the doctor before LB slowly helps me up where we slowly join the rest of the family. “That’d be for us,” Jesse says as he sees that I have joined them, “How are is he doctor?”

“I am Doctor Tevail,” he slowly replies before eyeing us through his thick eye lenses with dark brown eyes before eyeing his clipboard and back up at us, “you must be family?”

“Yes,” I quickly reply, my voice filled with my impatience, “I am his older sister. How is he, Dr. Tevail?”

He eyes me cautiously for a long moment before nodding in some sort of agreement before taking us in, once again. “Garrett took a pretty bad beating today,” he slowly begins to answer, his dark eyes seem to dim in worry as he glances down at his clipboard before looking up to continue, “by a blunt object. It looks as if he was thrown to the ground and continuously beaten with a baseball bat or something solid like that,” he pauses once again to set down his clipboard upon the petite receptionist’s desk, “Garrett suffered severe blows to the head to give him a bad concussion,” he sighs as his eyes filter from person to person, ” his right hand and arm are broken from intense pressure, he broke three ribs, one of which punctured through his lungs. He bruised two more ribs and he has a hair line fracture in his left wrist and a bigger fracture to his left knee.”

Tevail fades into silence as another doctor’s name is called over the intercom to grab his attention before glancing back at us. “Will he be OK?” LB quickly guides him back to our conversation.

Tevail shrugs as if to say it is out his hands. “He has lost a lot of blood during his duration of waiting for help to arrive and he has internal bleeding,” he pauses once again, “we were able to stop some of his internal bleeding, but only a little bit, the rest we will have to wait and see if it will stop on it’s own. He has a very low heart rate right now and with his punctured lung, he can’t breath on his own.” He pauses once more to eye everyone and as he looks at me, more sadness sinks into his eyes, “The blows he suffered to the head, his concussion, has seemed to have thrown him pretty deeply into a coma. His results -”

“No, no,” I hear myself muttering aloud as I silently picture all the patients I had witnessed in comas while working at the hospital in Knoxville, of their families, and of the news they were often told.

“It is hard to say right now if he will be OK. As of now, he is listed in critical condition,” he pauses as LB hugs me closely to him, “we would be better to tell how he will be if and when he wakes up.”

Thick, awkward silence explodes around us as his words echo inside of me to throw disbelief and fear rushing within, quickly followed by anger towards the people who had done such a thing to him. “How is Ethan?” Luke quickly speaks up to break the thick silence.

“Doctor Braken will be his doctor,” he slowly states, “he should be out in a few minutes to inform you of his condition. He is just getting him situated and all…since he seemed to be better off than Garrett, we dealt with Garrett first to get him situated in his room.”

I slowly nod as I am thrown back to being a nurse in the hospital of Knoxville, where the families the doctors served came more numbers than names, where it was just another person hurt. Now it’s Garrett. “Can,” I slowly state, forcing myself to look up at him, “can I see Garrett?”

“One at a time,” Tevail slowly nods before motioning me to follow him.

 

“Garrett,” I hear myself say, my voice barely above a whisper, as I step into his dark room before closing the door behind me. The afternoon’s hazy sky glows through the open window that stands a few feet away from the monitors and his bed. For a long moment I stand silently still a foot away from the closed door while listening to the irregular heart monitor and listening to the tube pumping air into him; helping him breath. All the noises I had grown accustomed to through my schooling in college and then out in the real world as a nurse, noises that I had shut out. Noises now attempting to help Garrett. For a moment I allow my mind to wonder into the past when I was a nurse on the critical care floor, of the people I had attended to in comas, of their grieving families. Some of the coma patients had been lost within their coma for months on end, feeding the families with little hope of seeing them awake again. All that pain and grieving I had seen on the loved ones faces and now I am the one grieving.

“Garrett,” I speak up once again as I slowly step up to his barred in bed to be struck with horror as I look down at my younger brother. A thick white bandage is wrapped around his head, matting down his hair, while dark bruises cover his face with a couple of deep cuts, dried blood is stained into his thin goatee. A thick air tube is shoved forcefully down his throat while a small tube is in his nose, two IVs slowly drip into each arm while wires are suctioned onto his chest to monitor his heart beat under his thin hospital gown. His right arm is forced into a thick plastered cast that covers his thumb down to his elbow while his other arm is darkly bruised and swollen. “It’s me,” I fight off tears that threaten to fall as my mind ushers back to our argument, through all that has led him to where he is now, “I’m right here, Garrett. Please wake up…I beg you.”

I am quickly responded with the harsh beeping of the monitors to send me looking at them, reading them from past experience. “Damn it Garrett,” I cuss angrily as I see just how low his heart rate is, just how thin his heart beat is, “you got to be OK…you got to wake up.”

Listening to his monitors and the even hiss from his air tube my mind numbly winds back through time from when I had first met him only a few years to him beating off Trevor to protect me and my kids from him. Through the past year we had spent in Hazzard to now. Looking at Garrett, I slowly realize that I should call dad and Rosa, explain what has happened and of Garrett’s condition. Dad had been pretty obstinate not to return to Hazzard, the place he loved, in order to hide from Jesse, from Jesse’s wrath that is forced on dad for what he had done; all he’s done to Bo. But with Garrett in a coma and as badly beaten, maybe he would come back to Hazzard to visit Garrett, a chance to meet up with Jesse and to meet Bo. Would their return to Hazzard be welcomed now after so many years or would they be shunned by their mistakes? Jesse doesn’t seem to be the kind to hold large grudges against family even though he can be easily riled up, he is a forgiving person. He has never yet mentioned a negative word about dad, though he hasn’t really talked about him either.

“What you think I should do, Garrett?” I slowly speak aloud as if expecting an answer, “That’s what we really need is more controversy now, after all that’s been happening, but dad would want to know. Wouldn’t he?”

I return to silence as I watch him lying on the bed while deciding on the right thing to do before deciding that dad and Rosa has the right to at least be made alert of what had happened. Give them the option of coming back or not. “They’re not the problem,” I slowly say out of frustration. It’s an easy choice of what is the right thing to do about calling dad and Rosa, my problem lying if they do decide to come home; of everyone’s reaction here. Of how Bo will react, how Jesse will react. “I will call dad and warn Jesse…that way everyone knows.”

Once again I get the hissing of the air pump and the beeping from the monitors for my response, sending more emotions plummeting deeply within me. “C’mon Garrett,” I plea once again, “you need to wake up, you gotta be ok.” My thoughts silently stroll from Garrett to my kids, of how they will react when they hear Uncle Garrett is hurt; that Uncle Garrett will most likely miss Shay’s second birthday. Perhaps his own birthday that lies within the next couple of weeks.

 

***ETHAN MCKLEEN***

 

Slowly I am thrown awake by a harsh throbbing in my head, a throbbing that races harshly down my neck and throughout my whole body. Somewhere near within the darkness that surrounds me, a loud and annoying beeping screams angrily at me as the dark world seems to spin quickly around me. Opening my eyes, thick blurriness blocks my vision for a long moment before my eye sight slowly adjusts to the darkness of a small room. Spotting a small TV – like machine on the left side of where I lie with a bright green line slowly moving up and down, I slowly realize that it must be a heart monitor. A hospital. A chill rushes up my spine as I slowly realize that I must be in the hospital, left alone in a dark small hospital room. But why?

Feeling the pain throbbing across my body, I slowly glance down to spot my right hand in a thick cast while my left hand is darkly bruised. Confusion quickly settles in as I fight to remember what had happened, of why I am here with bandages upon my arm. Glaring at my casted arm while concentrating on my pain, struggling to remember the events that had brought me here, my mind slowly seems to clear up. A bat and two men. The General Lee. Abruptly I become alert as my mind becomes clear of the haze sending flashbacks of the drive back from Choctaw County in Hogg’s semi truck, being stopped by the orange General Lee. Garrett! Fear quickly follows the pain as my mind focuses on Garrett and the brief yells of pain he had let out, of Garrett’s bloody body lying silently still on the edge of the road, before I had been captured by blackness.

Slowly a small squeak breaks my thoughts and I cautiously glance towards the door to find the aging sheriff slowly walking into the room, taking off his black hat as he approaches my bed. “Ethan,” he slowly states, his deep blue eyes are filled with sadness, “you’re awake. Your doctor said you’ve been out for the past four hours.”

“I’m awake,” I slowly state to find my throat dry, the air tube they had placed in my nose feels funny in my nose as I attempt to talk, “how’s Garrett?”

“Garrett,” he slowly responds as he looks away from me before glancing back at me, “he got beaten pretty badly, I’m afraid,” he pauses as he struggles with his own emotions, “he has a bad concussion and is in a coma. They said they don’t really know how he will be until he wakes up, if he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up,” I echo him as I fade back into my own thoughts, the bright silver baseball bat coming down at me flashes in the back of my mind, of the pain the bat had inflicted upon me.

“Yeah,” Rosco slowly nods as he grabs a hold onto the bars of my bed, “which is why I am here. I want to know what had happened…to you and Garrett and to the truck.”

“We were stopped by two masked men…in sky masks and denim coats,” I slowly begin as I struggle with what to tell them. Confusion continues to rush through me of what had happened and of who was behind it. The General was there and they called each other Bo and Luke and cousin, all evidence pointing to Bo and Luke Duke. But they would never do such a thing, they wouldn’t go out of their way to purposefully hurt someone like that. But after the fight last night with Garrett? Highly unlikely, not after a day or two and not like that. But the General?

“Take your time,” Rosco prods as he takes a chair besides me and the night stand, “I want everything you can remember.”

I glare coldly at the sheriff for a long moment as I silently think of where this is heading, of what this will do to Garrett’s family. The moment I mention the General and the two men’s conversation, Rosco will head out of here to throw Bo and Luke in jail and that would be the end of it. “One was taller than the other one and the other was a couple inches smaller but more muscular,” I describe, fighting to delay the true events, “I was driving the truck when we came to their vehicle parked in the middle of the road and they approached us as I stopped. One at each door. Forced us out at gun point, when we stepped out they began beating us with baseball bats.”

“Baseball bats?” Rosco asks, arching a dark eye brow.

“Silver baseball bats, like they use in softball,” I answer, “I really couldn’t see Garrett, he was on the other side of the truck. He had the taller, leaner guy and I had the smaller muscular guy.”

“OK,” Rosco nods thoughtfully, “what kind of car was it? What color?”

I once again glare harshly at him as I struggle on what to do. Bo and Luke had always been nice to me, welcoming me along, and deep down I know they wouldn’t do such a thing. But everything points to them from their car to their dialogue. “Orange,” I respond and Rosco’s blue eyes abruptly come alert, “1969 Dodge Charger with oh-one on the doors, a Confederate flag on top.”

“The General Lee!” Rosco jumps out of his chair half in surprise and half in excitement, “that’d be Bo and Luke Duke.”

“That is nonsense Rosco!” I yell back as I attempt to sit up only to be denied by pain, “They wouldn’t do such a thing and you know it!”

“That’s not what you just described. You just described the car Bo and Luke drive and you know that too,” Rosco shrugs, “did they talk? To you? To each other? What they say?”

“They said nothing to me,” I quickly respond, “but called each other Bo and the other Luke or cuz. The guy that had me told the other one he was ready to have some f un and the other guy agreed, saying he liked baseball.”

“Bo and Luke Duke,” Rosco shakes his head in disbelief and in shame, “I can’t believe they would sink to this level.”

“Because it’s not them!” I quickly snap at him.

“Yeah?” he asks heading towards the door, “Is that why you just explained them there beating you and Garrett? That why I found Bo’s wallet in the mud where he had beaten Garrett at?” Sarcasm drips from his words before growing serious, “You were there at the Boar’s Nest to see their fight…Luke was angry at Garrett and Bo was hurt by Garrett. That’s enough motive for me for it to be them, it backs everything up. You just happened to be in the way, wrong place wrong time as they say.”

“This is a damn frame up, Rosco!” I yell after him as he slowly walks out the door, closing the door behind him to leave me alone once again, alone in a dark room.

 

”’SHERIFF ROSCO COLTRANE”’

 

“It’s a damn frame up, sheriff, and you know it!” Ethan’s words continue to beat rapidly and forcefully within me as I stare blindly ahead through my bug and mud splattered windshield. “You’re a damn coward, Rosco,” I angrily mutter aloud at myself as an explosion of what if questions rush through me. If only I had the nerve to stand up against Hogg, against his latest scheme, maybe Garrett wouldn’t be lying lost in his own coma. Perhaps Hazzard wouldn’t be drifting into the dangerous hands of Levi and Trent. I’m the sheriff of this town, it is my job, my responsibility to make sure that Hazzard is safe. Yet I follow through with Hogg’s plans for me, go along with what he wants, despite the gnawing feeling about the men he is working for. Despite the violent beatings of two of Hazzard’s citizens.

“Rosco,” Hogg’s thick voice crackles upon the CB, “Rosco, pick up!”

“This is Rosco,” I sigh into my CB handle as the Duke farm house comes into view, standing proudly amongst the farm scene that surrounds the old house and barn.

“Are you there, yet?” he hisses, his voice demanding, “Do we have to go through the plan again? I want this to work and not to be messed up by the likes of you!”

“I’ll be there in a minute or two,” I hesitantly respond as dread drips down into me, “and no, you don’t have to go through it again. I know what you want and I still disagree with the whole thing. We all know -”

“Rosco!” he barks, anger fills his words, “Not over the CB, you numbskull! If you want to go there, I will remind you what I reminded you of only moments ago…you understand! I don’t care if you agree to it or not, just do it!”

“Yes sir,” I slowly respond before hanging up my old CB before I make a sharp turn into the Dukes’ dusty dirt driveway before coming to a halt a few feet away from The General. For a long moment I stare silently at the old farm house, listening to the silence that fills the late spring afternoon while emotions and thoughts rush through me. Memories of the past flashes within me of coming to the Duke farm with the same sort of story, same sort of search and arrest warrant for the boys; always to be filled with excitement at the thought of being able to arrest a Duke, to throw them in jail. Now I am filled with dread to be handing Jesse Duke the search warrant for the boys’ room and to have to arrest the boys, for something I know they didn’t do. It had never stopped me before, but never before had Boss stooped this low to framing them; for beating their own kin.

“Deputy Enos,” I slowly speak into the CB once again only get static, “where are you Enos? You were to assist me -”

“Right here sheriff,” he answers almost breathlessly and I slowly glance in my rearview mirror to find his dirty patrol car pulling into the drive way before coming to a stop besides me, “right outside your window.”

“I see you dipstick!” I answer impatiently into the CB before throwing it back onto the seat next to me as I throw open my heavy door to step into the warm afternoon. “OK Enos. I want you to wait here while I go knock on the door…if someone answers I want you to come up and help me out.” I quickly inform him as I peer in through his open window and he glares innocently up at me.

“Yes sir, sheriff,” he nervously responds as his own dread fills his greenish brown eyes, “but I still don’t see why we are doing this. Them boys would never -”

“I know Enos!” I abruptly yell and his eyes widen in surprise and I struggle to retain my image I’ve built over the years, the image of disliking the Dukes, “The evidence says otherwise so until we find out differently, they are our suspects. Do as you’re told.”

“Uh yes sir,” he softly responds as I move away and walk by the grill of his car to reach the old wooden steps that leads up onto the splintered porch.

Slowly reaching the front door, my heart comes to an halt at seeing the closed wooden door that rests closes only an inch away from the screen door. The old torn screen door squeaks open as I pull on it before I harshly knock upon the thick wooden door. “Jesse! Bo, Luke!” I yell at the door, “Sheriff Rosco Coltrane! Open up!”

I listen to the thick silence through the closed door before knocking loudly once again only to receive more silence in return. Turning around I slowly shake my head towards Enos while I glare at the parked General that had rested alone in the empty parking lot before I had came. They must’ve rod with Jesse or Daisy. “Noone’s home,” I sigh into Enos’ window and he squints his eyes through the sun.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he nods as he glances around, “perhaps they went to visit Garrett, Ethan, or Kristy. What now?”

“I guess we’ll wait for now,” I shrug hopelessly, “nothing more that we can do…we go back without them, Hogg’s sure will have our hides.”

***UNCLE JESSE***

 

Intense worry soars thickly through me as I silently listen to my nephew’s wheezy breathing while dark storm clouds of pain hangs heavily in his dark blue eyes. For a short moment I glance away from the dirt road that lies ahead to slowly take in Bo sitting next to me, noticing his thin chest heaving heavily in and out in his struggle for air. “Damn it,” I mutter silently as I glance back towards the road while my mind lingers back to the past, of Bo’s childhood and the effects the disease had held on him. Listening to his wheezy breathing that interrupts the silence that lingers between the three of us in the cab of my truck, I slowly glance down at my silver pocket watch, calculating Bo’s next medication time. Two more hours. A thick sense of helplessness quickly joins my worry for my nephew, helplessness at being unable to help ease his pain, being unable to make the monster within him go away.

“You know what’s gonna happen,” Luke abruptly breaks the silence as he glances over at me before his eyes rest on Bo and his own worry shines upon his face before he glances back at me, “they’re gonna find some way to blame all of this on us…they’ve been up to something for a long time now. It’s finally beginning to make sense.”

“What does?” I slowly ask cautiously, my attention remaining on the road ahead.

“That whole fight at the Boar’s Nest just seemed wrong to me…preplanned sort of. Not on Garrett’s behalf, but on the two new guys. And just think what Hogg got out of the whole thing,” he pauses for a long moment, “he got two new truck drivers to drive his truck…which gets hijacked on their first job. I mean Hogg knows how Garrett feels about his car…it’s not hard to imagine that he’d lean towards fighting if he found some stranger in his car refusing to leave it.”

“I see where you are going Luke,” I slowly respond as my mind momentarily leaves Bo to think of Garrett and the events that has been circulating around town, “but Hogg would never stoop so low as to have Garrett and Ethan beaten so badly. Hogg has done some low things in the past before, but he’s never resorted to violence to get what he wants. He wouldn’t start now.”

“Maybe not,” Luke continues on his theory, “but maybe the ball isn’t in his court any more.”

“What are you thinking, Luke?” I slowly ask as I glance over at him.

“I’m thinking that Hogg has lost control of the situation,” Luke slowly starts as he eyes me for a moment, “and that his hired men has taken matters into their own hands.” “That’s damn reassuring,” I quickly respond as I quietly watch the old farm slowly come into view as my truck follows the smooth curve of the dirt road, “that’s all we need…dangerous men running around Hazzard, causing trouble.”

“Yeah,” Luke softly agrees from the passenger seat before the cab slowly returns to silence, my thoughts swiftly flows from the conversation to my worries of Bo while listening to his rough breathing.

 

Fear and surprise ripples across my numb body as my truck follows the curvy road around a sharp curve that leads to our drive way to find two patrol cars parked haphazardly in front of our farm house. For a long moment I stare angrily at the police cars parked in our drive way as my mind races roughly within me of the past few days, from the bar room fight to visiting Garrett in the hospital and then to Luke’s latest theory. “We’ve got company,” I dryly state as my attention remains on the police cars while I silently listen to Bo’s breathing with great worry. If Luke is right and they are here to arrest the boys for something they would never do, no telling what would happen to Bo. They’d be towed in to jail, locked up tight, and left a lone for the night until seven or so when Sheriff Coltrane opened the sheriff’s department for the day. If Bo were to have an attack or worse while they were gone, how could he get help? My worry quickly turns into panic as I vividly imagine all the possibilities that could happen to him while being locked up.

“Rosco and Enos,” Luke slowly replies after a long moment, stating the obvious, “great timing…as always. What are we going to do now?”

“Well . . .” I slowly trail off as I watch a figure step out of his car to glance over the roof, watching us approaching, “well there is only one thing we can do…we can’t turn back or go past. They’ve seen us and there is no way we can outrun them in the truck, I guess -”

“What about Bo?” Luke quickly interrupts me, his own voice thick with worry.

“I don’t know,” I sigh glancing over at Bo who watches the farm house quietly with anxiety, “but there isn’t anything else we can do, Luke. Running may make matters worse…for Bo.”

“I’m fine,” Bo quickly replies stubbornly despite the pain that seems to throb in his eyes and the harsh wheezing sounds that escape with each breath he manages to take.

Silence quickly fills the cab of the truck once again as we reach the entrance into our drive way and I slowly follow the trail into the drive way to park a few feet away from Rosco’s crooked patrol car. “I don’t like this any more than you do, Luke,” I sigh as I catch him glaring in disbelief at me before I slowly open the door to step out and Luke slowly follows out the passenger side.

“Well Jesse,” Rosco bows his head gently at me as he slowly walks around the grill of his car, instead of his silly grin that seems to be glued onto his face while falsely charging the boys, his _expression has a dour appeal to it. “We’ve been waiting for you…and the boys.”

I glance back as he motions towards the truck to find Bo still sitting in the middle seat while Luke glances in at him and then up at Rosco. “I’ve guessed that,” I nod as I quietly take in his dour _expression, his tense body, “We’re here now…what can we do for you, sheriff?”

“Uh well you see Jesse,” he pauses for a long moment as he glances down at the papers that he clenches in his hands and back up at me, “Boss has given me,” he glances back as Enos slowly approaches to look at me again, “I’ve got a warrant to search the boys’ room. It’s good for their whole room, their bed, closet, dresser…everything within their room.”

Silence fills the summer day for a short moment as I stare skeptically at him, awaiting for him to continue, instead he stares down at his feet, almost seeming ashamed of himself. “What for, Rosco?” I speak up as I realize he isn’t going to continue, “My boys here hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“I know -” he cuts himself off quickly, “I know you think that, but uh, while looking around the premises of the hijacking of Hogg’s truck, I, ” Rosco goes silent once again as he reaches into his open window to pull out a sandwich bag that holds a black leather wallet, “I found this near Garrett’s body. It’s Bo’s. . .it’s got his driver’s licence and some money in it…with a family picture in the back.”

A throbbing pressure quickly begins to build in my chest, pressure from anger and worry dancing harshly within me as Rosco’s words slowly sinks in. Bo’s wallet. “This is a damn lie Rosco!” I yell as I take a threatening step closer to him and he steps back into his car while shaking his head no at me, “A damn lie and you know it! That there just may be Bo’s wallet, as you say, but you or one of Hogg’s hired men planted it there. Not Bo!”

Rosco goes silent as he looks at me and then at Luke before peering in through the back window at Bo who watches silently, his future flushing quickly in front of him. “All the same Jesse, I’ve got an warrant to search the boys’ room and if I find what’s missing, an warrant for both of their arrests,” Rosco slowly speaks up, his voice thick with regret, “we’ve got a witness that has identified two masked figures that looked to be Bo and Luke’s height and calling them by their names…not to mention them pulling up in the General Lee.”

“That’s hogwash!” Luke quickly pipes up, “I knew y’all were up to something! This is low, Rosco…damn low, even for you!”

“Hush!” Rosco yells, emotions swim in his voice, in his eyes as he stares at us, “I’ve got orders I need to follow through with…Enos and I both. Here’s the warrant for their room, Jesse…you can come in with me while Enos stays out here with the boys or I’ll escort myself to their room. You’re choice.”

A black bird caws loudly from far above somewhere as silence once again rushes between us as my options float in my head: stay with the boys or watch Rosco search for planted evidence. “I’ll go with you,” I give him an accusatory look before glancing at Bo. A moment passes by before I slowly turn to lead Rosco into the hot farm house’s kitchen and into the clean living room. “You’re wrong Rosco…I don’t care if you find something, you know damn well that the boys wouldn’t do what you are accusing them of doing.”

“We’ll see about that Jesse,” he slowly answers as we reach their closed bedroom door and I slowly push it open expecting to find hidden goods in sight. Instead it remains to look the same as it had before we had left, when I had found Bo and Luke reading car magazines on their beds. Rosco looks at me for a moment before he walks in between their beds to look under the beds and in the small wooden night stand that stands in between the beds and under a small window. Finding nothing he sighs heavily before standing up to glance around and walks over to their dresser to slowly look through their underwear and shirts.

Once again he glances around as he seems to stare sullenly at the floor that holds a couple of tossed jeans and shirts that hasn’t been picked up yet. After a moment, he slowly moves towards the closed closet where he hesitantly opens it up to the right side of the sliding doors. My heart comes to an abrupt halt as three large brown boxes fill the closet, resting upon a couple pairs of boots and stacks of magazines. “This is damn low, Rosco,” I slowly state once again as Luke’s theory once again comes to mind, “Bo and Luke would never beat their own kin not alone to hijack a truck.”

“Evidence says else wise, Jesse,” Rosco dryly responds as he hands me the other paper he had been carrying around and I glance at it to find it to be the warrant for the boys’ arrest, “these here are boxes of stolen sport goods…that were on that truck was hijacked. We got a witness, evidence, motive, and stolen goods.”

“Motive? What -”

“Their fight at the Boar’s Next…Luke and Garrett got into it pretty good before Garrett got into with those out of towners,” Rosco slowly states before walking past me and out into the small hall and into the living room.

“The ones that Hogg is working with? The ones that held Ethan at gun point?” I ask angrily as I follow Rosco into the kitchen, “You can’t do this Rosco! Bo’s having a hard time breathing…he needs his medication and -”

“Bring it in, he’ll get it,” Rosco answers as he refuses to look at me as he approaches Enos, “Arrest ’em Enos.”

I watch hopelessly as Rosco quickly pulls Bo out from the truck to gently press him against the truck to latch his handcuffs onto Bo’s wrists behind his back while Enos does the same to Luke. “This is a damn frame up, Rosco,” Luke angrily spits at the sheriff as he brings Bo back around to his car, “you want to arrest someone…arrest me! Bo -”

“Hush will ya? You’re making this harder on everyone,” Rosco goes quiet before he motions Enos to put them both into the back of his patrol car.

“I’ll be following,” I yell after them as Rosco and Enos locks them into Rosco’s patrol car. Through the window I see Luke nodding while Bo glares silently ahead, struggling to ignore the pain and everyone around him.

*****

 

Impatience steadily climbs through Levi Dunning’s large muscular body as he sits awkwardly besides a tall tree a few feet away from the Duke farm house, partially hidden behind a thick, dark green bush. “What are we looking for?” Sarge’s thick, heavy voice breaks through the silence that had began to build since leaving their old truck several minutes ago, silence that Levi had appreciated. Levi enjoys working in solitude, to him, being forced to work with someone, especially tailing someone, was almost insulting to him. No almost about it, it was insulting to him. Yet, once again, he was forced to team up with a partner of sorts to watch and follow the local sheriff for their boss in order to keep tabs on the sheriff’s activities and whereabouts. Normally Levi is teamed up with Trent when sent on a mission, but today, Whinston had teamed him up with Sarge. Levi could tolerate Trent, he even got along with him and felt like they worked well together. Sarge, as he is known to everyone, only manages to get in the way and to get on his nerves with his wise stories of war, his positive thinking, and his whistling. Always whistling a tune of something, if not one thing, it will be another no matter what they were doing. Now he was whistling an older tune that Levi didn’t recognize and didn’t care to know.

“We’re watching the sheriff,”Levi harshly whispers as he glares over at Sarge who leans nonchalantly against the back of the tree while his bright crystal blue eyes stare coldly at Levi. Sarge’s thick, dark gray hair reaches the collar of his tight black t-shirt in the back and curves over his ears on the side while thick eye brows hang over his small thin framed glasses. A thick scar runs down the right side of his sharp narrow nose from his troubled youth while his teeth are yellowed by years of smoking and drinking. A large dark black tattoo of an eagle is spread across his muscular left upper arm and his personalized black hand gun is shoved firmly into the front of his tight dark jeans, his untucked shirt covering the butt that hangs upon the belt line.

“Well duh,” Sarge’s bright eyes roll around in exasperated sarcasm as he glares away from Levi and out at the local sheriff who is now returning from the inside of the farm house, approaching the two local farmers and the older man. From where they are hiding, the lean and tall blond hair kid’s wheezing breathing is audible as well as the other’s worry for him. “This is all a waste of time, you ask me. We all know where he lives, where he works, and by now his habits. I say nab him while he’s on his way home…no one would never know. Until morning that is when he doesn’t show up for work.”

“No one’s asking you to think,” Levi quickly replies as he watches the sheriff muttering something to his deputy before they both move towards the younger two men, “they’re arresting the two farmers for the hijacking…just as planned.”

“Waste of our time,” Sarge responds making a clucking noise as he glances around the forest behind them to find a squirrel chasing another one around in circles around a thick truck of a big tree, “nab him on his way home or at home…less chance of getting ourselves caught.”

“He lives with his mother,” Levi crouches farther down, “if you don’t learn to shut up, we will get caught. We got our instructions and we will follow them…I’m not going to be the one reporting to Whinston that we messed up…because of you!”

Sarge reluctantly nods as he fades back into whistling while watching the local law slowly handcuffing the two Dukes before silently ushering them back to the crooked patrol cars. “OK let’s go,” Levi silently whispers while slowly standing to his full six feet and six inches before quickly ducking out of sight behind Sarge and the thick tree, “we saw what we came to see.”

***LUKE DUKE***

 

A rush of emotions explodes lively within me as I stare silently through the thick plastic back seat window of the sheriff’s dusty patrol car. My thoughts quietly run freely through me as I picture Garrett’s battered body laying upon that old, stiff hospital bed prodded with tubes and needles. Guilt suddenly explodes within me as I silently picture my cousin as I had last seen him, guilt for the fight and all I had said to him the other night at the Boar’s Nest. Sure, he was in the wrong for what he had done to Bo, but threatening him as I did, didn’t help anything either. Anger quickly begins to settle in once again at the men who had done the hijacking, had done the beating while wondering if it had been the same men who had attacked him at the Boar’s Nest.

“Damn it Rosco!” I quickly interrupt the silence that had filled the heated car as Rosco makes a clumsy turn onto the paved road, “This is a damn frame up and you know it! While you’re arresting us, the real attackers are out there…loose and free to do as they wish!” I pause as I wait for him to interrupt me, instead he peers quietly at me through his mirror, “Let me guess, the real hijackers are hired workers of Hogg who has went their own way…Hogg lost control of the situation. Am I right, Rosco?”

He sighs heavily as he peers back through the rearview mirror for a long time before staring ahead, remaining silent as he comes to an abrupt halt in front of the court house. “That is not for me to answer,” he slowly responds before throwing open the door as Enos slowly parks besides him. A long moment passes as I watch Rosco out my window muttering instructions to Enos before Enos quickly walks over to my door while Rosco walks over to Bo’s door.

“OK Luke,” Enos smiles awkwardly at me while placing a guiding hand under my arm to help me up and I slowly allow him while watching Bo with growing worry as he waits for Rosco to open his door, his chest heaving heavily under his tight blue shirt. “Sorry to have to do this to you.”

“Not your fault, Enos,” I silently whisper as Rosco throws open Bo’s door to usher him up onto his feet where he seems to fumble weakly for a short moment before gaining his balance under Rosco’s hand.

“C’mon,” Rosco grunts under his breath to Bo as he guides Bo onto the curb and we slowly follow them up the cheaply cemented stairs. After a short moment we are led into the narrow hall way, the air conditioning humming down my back sends a shiver of relief through me from the summer heat that we had just left behind.

“Be careful, Rosco!” I abruptly snap at the sheriff as he roughly forces Bo into the sheriff’s station to cause Bo to trip unsteadily before bumps into the corner of Enos’ desk, to catch his fall. Rosco glances back at me for a short moment, his bright blue eyes filled with mix emotions before he turns around to grab back onto the chain of Bo’s cuffs.

 

 

Worry continues to grow within me as I silently watch my cousin lying quietly upon the old cot that is bolted onto the brick wall of the downstairs cell. He stares silently up at the stained white plastered ceiling with his long fingers laced forcefully behind his head, his lengthy legs are stretched out with his left foot wrapped over his right shin. His thin chest continues to heave heavily in his struggle for air to force out loud wheezing noises with each breath he manages to take while his complection remains ghostly pale. “Tell me how you feel,” I abruptly state to break the silence between us and he slowly glares over to where I stand near the gated door, his dark blue eyes filled with pain.

“I’ll be -”

“Fine,” I quickly interrupt him to force a startled look to spread across his face, “I want to believe that…as does everyone else. But I didn’t ask how you will be…I said, tell me how you feel. How you feel right now.”

He watches me silently for a short moment before shrugging as he stares back up towards the ceiling, lost again in his own thought. “Why does it matter?” he slowly asks as loud footsteps echo above before Jesse’s angry voice is heard, demanding answers from Rosco.

“Hi boys,” his forced smile disappears as his attention is thrown onto Bo to force his worry to increase in his eyes, “how you feelin’ Bo?”

Bo shrugs as he slowly sits up and for a moment his breathing seems to grow worse before returning to how it was a moment ago. He glares at me for a moment and then back out at Jesse as he struggles for an acceptable answer. “It hurts,” he finally admits again, “I want to go home.”

“Well,” Jesse slowly speaks up as he eyes me and then Bo, “I’ll get you out one way or the other…I’ll come up with the bail money -”

“How?” I slowly interrupt him, “We don’t exactly have the money to be paying for bail at the moment with the doctor’s bills and -”

“I’ll find a way,” Jesse interrupts me, “even if I have to auction off the farm -”

“No,” Bo quickly speaks up in denial, “I’ll be fine.”

“Hopefully,” Jesse responds, “look, I’ll find away one way or another. Hogg says I have up until tomorrow morning to come up with the bail money. After that, you’ll be stuck in here until your court date…so you’ll have to be stuck in here over night at least. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I sigh heavily as I fall back to watch Bo, “you give them Bo’s medicine?”

“Of course I did,” he snaps impatiently at me, “Enos will make sure he gets it or that it is in reach when he’s gone.”

Silence quickly fills the stuffy basement of the sheriff’s station as I follow Jesse’s worried look back at Bo who struggles to ignore the worry that is directed towards him. My mind swirls rapidly within me, flowing from three days ago when this all began until now, sitting in jail accused for beating my own cousin and his friend. Three days ago was when I had the fight with Garrett, when Garrett and Ethan had fought those two guys before getting arrested and blackmailed to drive Hogg’s truck.

“Visiting hours are now officially over,” Rosco interrupts the silence as he appears down the stairs, “Jesse.”

Jesse glares at the sheriff for a moment before glancing back at us with concerned eyes that shed light upon his anger towards the situation. “Well boys,” he forces a smile, “I’ll be back in the morning…first thing.”

I slowly nod as I watch Bo sitting upon the cot, struggling for air and against the pain and against sleep that seems to capture him while he’s awake. “Night Jesse,” I slowly say as Bo slowly waves at Jesse.

“C’mon Jesse, I don’t have all night,” Rosco says impatiently and Jesse slowly nods as he continues to watch us as he heads towards the stairs.

“Night boys,” he says before turning around to follow the sheriff up the stairs and slowly disappears upstairs where we hear their footsteps as he exits the sheriff’s department. Silence slowly builds between us as the room fades into darkness while Bo slowly lies back down upon the old cot. Standing against the brick wall I watch his lean body quickly fall still while his breathing falls into a sleeping pattern, his chest heavily heaves in and out wheezily. Watching my cousin, I remain wide awake, lost in thought of the situation while struggling with what the future may hold for us.