Staring out through the open window, I silently feel the warm spring breeze blow in while my thoughts jump back and forth within me to stir the thick emotions that has been boiling thickly within me through the past couple of days. Emotions of fear and sadness as my imagination constantly works within me to draw vivid pictures of what the bleak future may hold for my oldest nephew. Of what the future holds for all of my family as they continue to roughly digest the unspeakable news Luke had told us only a few days ago. That he was being deployed to Iraq. The thought sends chills running rapidly up and down my body in fear even though I knew there was a large possibility that this could happen ever since he had joined the Marines. But it was something he wanted to do, something he felt like he had to do in order to fight for something that is right. Afer all we all live freely and happily in America, shouldn’t he, who his healthy and fit, be willing and ready to defend it? For the past three years he has trained and worked hard at being the Marine he is today, and yet here I stand still in shock at the truth. That Luke’s leaving within an half hour to travel half way around the world to fight in a violent war to face and look death in the face daily. Giving us with a little ray of hope of ever seeing him alive again, meaning I may lose my nephew to a war I know little about.

“Oh Jesse,” Daisy comes up from behind me to give me a tight hug from behind, “Luke is trained and ready for this. This is something he feels he needs to do.”

“I know. But I’m not ready,” I shake my head as I glance at the clock, “Where is he? We need to get going.”

Daisy shrugs. “He was looking for Bo. He went to the barn to check,” she finally replies, “you know he likes to hide there if he’s going through a hard time.”

“And he’s going through a hard time,” I sigh remembering the fight they had last night, “I don’t know how he will handle it when Luke leaves. I mean he has a hard enough time when Luke is on base here in the U.S. not alone knowing he is fighting in a war half way around the world.”

Daisy nods. “Cooter says he’ll try to take him out tomorrow to the races. Perhaps get him thinking of something else. Though I doubt that will work,” she pauses, “if it is like it was when Luke moved on base, he’ll lock his self in his room, refusing to get out.’

“He’s so damn stubborn,” I slowly say as a wave of exhaustion rushes over me from nights of going with little sleep.

“He’s not the only one,” she eyes me, “not to say I am pointing any fingers or anything.”

“I get your point,” I check the clock again, “Bo or not, we’ve got to go or else we’ll miss the train. Hop in the truck if you want to ride along. If not, you can wait there to say good-bye to him.”

She nods as I slowly make my way past her and out through the screen door to quickly walk down the stairs and across the yard to where the old barn stands. Taking a deep breath, I slowly say a silent prayer for Luke’s safety and for Bo to be understanding and patient. Walking into the barn, I hear a couple of voices from the loft. “C’mon Bo. Don’t do this,” Luke sighs in frustration, “you are making it hard on everyone. You think I’m enjoying this?”

“You’re the stupid one who signed up!” Bo yells back at him, his voice quivers in harsh emotions while his breathing is hard and wheezy, “You knew damn well this could happen when you signed up for the Marines and had to move away! Yet you did it anyway, so yeah, I think this is something you want to do.”

“It was something I felt I had to do,” Luke slowly responds as Bo’s breathing seems to worsen, “I’ve told you that several times. What can I do to help you understand?”

“Nothing. I already understand,” Bo pauses to cough for a long moment to send my worry to grow rapidly within me, “I understand that what everyone says is right about you, now.”

“What you mean, what everyone says is right about me?” Luke questions and my heart comes to a halt in realization of what Bo is referring to. Of the bullies at school and of Luke’s friends that give Bo a hard time has been saying while Luke was gone; that Luke left because of Bo, he didn’t want to be with Bo anymore, that he got tired of having to babysit Bo every time. Things that deep down, Bo knows is untrue, but things that seem to grow some merit to now that Luke is leaving farther away to a place Bo won’t even be able to visit him at. “Look, you need to calm down, Bo. You are going to give yourself an attack.”

“Like you’d care,” Bo shoots back from above and I slowly move to the old and weak ladder that leads to the loft, “Otherwise you’d stay.”

“I don’t have a choice, any more Bo. I have to go,” Luke goes silent for a moment, “I came up here to say good-bye or to see if you would want to ride along to the train station with Jesse and I. Either way, I’ve got to go now, Bo.”

Silence comes between them filled with Bo’s wheezy breathing as I climb the steps, sadness and disbelief flows through me of what is going to happen. “I’m not going,” Bo stubbornly replies and as I rise to the loft, I see Luke trying to hug Bo only for Bo to shove him away. Too hurt to accept anything from Luke right now.

“That’s your choice, Bo. I’m sorry you’re upset at me, I wish you weren’t…I don’t like leaving like this. You know that from before,” Luke sighs heavily, “but as I said, I have to go one way or another. Know that I love you. No matter what you think right now.” Luke goes silent as he turns around to pick up something, “I knew you’d be upset, so I brought you a little something. Perhaps something that will help you to remember me by and to know that I’m thinking of you.”

“I don’t want it,” Bo stubbornly replies, drawing his long legs into his chest, hugging them, “I want you to stay here and never go away again.”

“I know. But for now this is the best I can do,” Luke tries to hand it to him, but then sets it down besides Bo when Bo doesn’t take it, “It’s a little photo and memory album that Daisy helped me to make last night…I know it’s kinda sentimental for us guys, but it is just something I thought may help you know that I’m thinking of you.” He pauses for a long moment, “I’ll keep in touch, just like before. Probably not as frequent as I could from base, but I’ll do my best.”

I stand back in the shadows for a long moment, eyeing my pocket watch while silently calculating the time, refusing to separate them until I necessarily need to. “What if you die?” Bo slowly questions, his voice quivering again with emotions, to break the silence that had grown between them while he lifts his head to look at Luke for the first time.

Luke silently shrugs. “Look Bo, I’d love to tell you that I won’t die and that everything will be OK as I had before. But I can’t and won’t lie to you, there is a possibility that I might. It is war after all,” he pauses, “but I will fight hard and try my best not to die, trust me, I will give the war all the fight I have in me. If that’s not enough, I guess that’s the way I was meant to die,” once more he pauses to put an arm around Bo’s thin shoulders, “but I want you to know something, whether I die or not, I care for you and will always be thinking of you. Of home, Jesse and Daisy. I’ll be fighting in order to get home as soon as I can, to see you…Jesse, and Daisy. I know this all is hard on you to understand, but I really do care and this is as hard on me to leave you as it is for you to see me to leave. But it is something I have to do.”

Luke goes silence once more as his attention goes out the loft door and over the house, “Part of me really wishes I hadn’t signed up for the Marines. It was hard being away the three years I was gone, it’ll be worse knowing I’m half way around the world from you, from home,” Luke falls silent as he looks at Bo, “As I’ve said all along, it was something I felt I needed to. Whether or not, it was a good choice to sign up, it’s too late now, I can’t back out. I have to go to Iraq and give that war the best and hardest fight I got to give. I’m sorry, Bo. I really am.”

“Me too,” Bo slowly states before coughing harshly for a short moment and as his coughing resides into heavy wheezing, he slowly continues, “for not understanding, that is. As Jesse pointed out to me last night, I’m being very selfish.”

Luke gives a nervous and sad laugh as he pats Bo on the back. “You weren’t being selfish Bo,” he shakes his head as Bo glances over at him, “you are just going through a very tough time right now accepting what I had said to you as well as a hard time dealing with your emotions. You have nothing to be sorry for, Bo.” Luke goes silent as he points out through the open door, “Daisy’s out by the truck waiting for me, meaning Jesse is probably looking for me. Also meaning, it’s time for me to go.”

Bo stiffly nods as I take a step into the loft area and out of the corner. “OK,” he slowly responds, “I’m going to miss you, Lukas.”

“I’ll miss you too, Bo, but look, I’ll write you and everyone as much as I can. As I said, it won’t be as often as I have been, but I’ll try my best. OK , buddy?” Luke questions and as I take another step in closer to them, Luke turns around and sees me, “Jesse’s here already. Sneaking up on us.”

“Sneaking up is the wrong word, more like reluctant to interrupt. But you are right, we’ve got to get going or else we’ll miss the train,” I slowly say as Bo faces me with wet cheeks from his tears, “you can come along if you wish, Bo.”

Bo eyes me harshly as Luke slowly rises before lending out a hand to help Bo to his feet who slowly accepts.  Shaking his head, Bo slowly says, “I don’t want to go,” he pauses to face Luke, “I’m sorry Luke, I can’t do it.”

Luke nods in understanding as he pulls Bo into a tight hug while saying, “It’s OK, I understand,” he lets go to take a step back towards me, “I’ll miss you Bo, I really will. And home. I will do my best to fight and to return home to see you all. Perhaps when I get back, we can start working on that race car you had been talking about. How that sound?”

“That’ll be great, Luke,” Bo forces a smile while fighting to breathe only to force him into a coughing fit, his asthma being triggered by his emotions.

“I’ll fight my war, you fight yours to get your asthma under control. Understand?” Luke eyes Bo worriedly, “You should be using your inhaler right now. You don’t want to get another infection,” Luke pauses, “I know, I sound like Uncle Jesse. But he’s right, every once in awhile that is.”

That sends a small smile to Bo’s face as he nods in agreement. “OK,” he slowly nods, “just return home unharmed and soon.”

“I’ll do my very best,” Luke says before he gives Bo another tight hug before letting go after a long moment. “I’ve got to go cuz, I’ll see you when I get home. By then, I want to see you put some meat on those bones of yours. People gonna start thinkin’ we starving you or something. OK?” Another painful small smile flickers on Bo’s face before falling back into a worried frown, “Bye Bo. Hang in there and keep the farm alive and going while I’m gone. K?”

Bo nods. “OK Luke. I’ll miss you,” Bo pauses to give Luke another short hug, “Bye Luke.” They silently wave at each other before Luke reluctantly turns his back to Bo to climb down the loft on our way out to my truck. 

“Uncle Jesse?” a soft and sleepy voice slowly interrupts my thoughts and the thick silence to pull my attention away from the thick photo album that rests in my lap. Sighing heavily, I slowly glance around my shoulder to find Daisy standing at the kitchen sink window, the window open, and watching me with worried eyes. “I’ll be right out.” With that she closes the window and a moment later she opens the screen door that squeaks loudly open before slamming shut behind her. She eyes the door for a moment before she walks around my foot to slowly sit down besides me in the swinging bench. “You OK, Uncle Jesse?”

I shrug for a silent moment as I hesitantly glance away from her to stare out into the dark sky that lingers heavily above the farm. The porch light shines a bright yellow color while beyond the porch, pure and thick darkness lingers with a small light shining from the moon. “As fine as I ever will be,” I sigh heavily as my attention goes back to the photo and memory album Luke had made for Bo when he had first left for war. A war that he had bounced back and forth from until being injured in the line of duty. “I couldn’t go to sleep, so I got restless and came out here where I wouldn’t be disturbing anyone.”

Daisy nods. “You got the photo album Luke made for Bo when he first left for war,” she states eyeing the cover that holds a picture Bo and Luke together. Bo looking to be around eight years old and Luke about thirteen, both wearing holey pants, no shoes or shirts with a fishing pole in hand, fish hanging from both their lines. “I helped him with it, but he worked hard at finding the exact pictures and things to put in there…he wanted to help Bo. I think that book did help Bo through a lot of it, at least mentally at least.”

I nod. “That it did. He wouldn’t let anyone else look at it,” I snot a small chuckle, “it was all his.” I fall silent for a moment, my thoughts visiting the past while ricocheting to the future and onto where we are at now in life. With Bo and Luke held hostage by the gang that has terrorized the south with little to no hope of seeing them alive again. “You know,” I pause for a moment to sort through my thoughts, “I figured once Luke was home from war, that he was safe. We didn’t have to worry about him being killed or held captive. I thought if anything would get either one of ‘em it’d be the dang car,” I cut myself off as the tears I held in, slowly begin to fall down my cheeks, “but no. Not only is it Luke held captive, it’s Bo too. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without -“

”Shhhh, Jesse,” Daisy interrupts me as she takes the book from my lap, “we can’t start thinking like that and giving up on them. We have to believe in them, Jesse…they can over come this. They’re fighters and they will give them all the fight they have.”

I shake my head in disagreement. “I use to believe that. At first,” I pause heavily while staring into the dark night, “it’s been too long since they disappeared…how long would a gang like that keep them both alive? I doubt this long,” I go silent as I allow my thoughts to fall back upon the last time I had seen Bo at Rhuebottom’s as he had robbed the store and barely missed shooting an FBI agent, “and even if they did keep them alive this long, what about Bo? There’s no way he’d survive this long without his medication. Especially when you think of the trauma he’s going through, it’ll worsen it even faster.”

She pats me on the knee while looking directly at me, shaking her head in disagreement. “Bo’s too stubborn to die, Jesse. As you’ve told all us kids over the years, we just have to have faith.” She slowly responds, her voice faltering with her own doubts about her cousins’ safety and health. “The book helped Bo a bit, how ‘bout we have a look?”

I force a smile at her. “Wouldn’t hurt anything I guess,” I sigh heavily as she opens the cover and several pictures of the two boys appear, starting from Bo as several months old and Luke five years old to send my mind reeling back to taking the picture.

Slowly, the sound of an engine purring in the distance gradually breaks the peaceful silence that hangs heavily in the dark night, the sound of the tires hitting the dirt road quickly growing closer. “It’s just so quiet around here without the boys,” Daisy slowly says besides me, her eyes remaining on the album on her lap as a tear runs off her cheek to land upon the plastic sleeve. Wiping the sleeve with her bare wrist, she says, “It’s just not right that anyone would want to hurt ‘em. First Cooter and now -“ She cuts herself off as she hides her head against my shoulder as the car’s engine grows closer and louder by the second.

“I know, baby. It’s hard,” I finally state as her own words of comfort come to mind, “wasn’t it you who had just said they were too stubborn to die. That we have to have faith. Right now, faith is all that we have to hang onto. You can’t allow that evil gang to steal that away from us as they had our boys.”

She nods as a new looking black car comes into view as it turns around the corner several feet away, it’s headlights brightly shining it’s way through the dark night. Sitting up, her attention falls upon the car before she sniffles and says, “Whoever’s driving that car is in some kind of hurry. Especially at this time of night.”

I nod in agreement as I glance down at my pocket watch to find it to be a quarter past two in the morning before eyeing the oncoming car who quickly slows down before turning into our drive way. Standing up, I slowly say, “I wonder who’d be visiting us at this time of night.”

Daisy nods as we slowly step to the steps as the car comes to a halt besides my truck and an attractive man looking to be in his thirties with thinly trimmed sandy brown hair steps out. He takes a couple of steps to silently stare at the two of us with inquisitive light blue eyes while he grabs something out of his dark windbreaker. “You’re Mr. Jesse Duke, I presume,” he slowly states as black billfold comes out from his windbreaker.

“That’s me,” I hesitantly respond as I place an arm around Daisy who stands in her nightgown.

He nods. “I’m Agent Joe Russler,” he says as he opens his billfold and shows me his gold star and ID to send fear rippling through my aged and numb body.

“No, no,”I hear myself silently pleading as I weakly take a couple of steps back, a wave of dizziness and nausea pass violently through me as my thoughts fall upon the boys. The sight of the agent at my door at two in the morning boldly confirms the horrible feeling that has plagued me since they had disappeared that awful day. They’re dead. “No, no,” I softly repeat as I lean against the door for support as the world seems to come to a dreadful halt. Tears begin to swell in my eyes as my chest tightens to restrict my breathing, only to remind myself of Bo’s asthma and breathing problems. Of breathing problems he will no longer have to struggle and fight with due to the hands of the evil gang that had stolen him away from me. My boys, dead. Gone forever.

“Mr. Duke,” the agent slowly states as he climbs the steps and I glance up to find that Daisy has moved to the swinging bench, tears streaking down her cheeks, “I’m sorry. You’ve seemed to misunderstand my visit here. I’m here to let you know that we found them.”

“You found them?” Daisy asks besides me as I fail to find my voice. “As in find them dead? Or what?”

“Not dead. We found them in time in order to stop the gang,” he pauses as he eyes me sympathetically, “they’re pretty badly beaten and both were unconscience by the time the ambulance came to pick them up. One was barely breathing, Luke got shot in the stomach…he said he got shot when they had first kidnaped them. But at the time they left by ambulance, they were still alive.” He pauses for a long moment, “I just figured I’d stop by and alert you before the hospital gives you a call. We got the gang captured and under control. Hazzard is once again safe.”

“They’re not dead?” I finally ask, finally accepting what he had just said.

“As of the last I saw them, they were still alive,” he nods as he takes a couple of steps off of the porch as the phone begins to ring inside, “that’s probably them. Take care, Mr. Duke.”

I nod as I quickly turn to walk into the kitchen, a new found hope quickly springs within me with what he had just said. Badly beaten, hurt, but alive.

***SHERIFF ROSCO COLTRANE*** 

Staring at the gang entrapped within the two cells down stairs, disbelief mixed with relief floods through me in knowledge that we’ve got the violent gang locked up within our cells and off of the streets. That Hazzard is once again safe as it had been before they had took up their hiding place within my county and has hope of finding peace once more as soon as things return to normal. Or as close to normal as it can be after the nightmare and terror they had placed into the citizens of Hazzard as they’ve been robbed and beaten. First Cooter, then Brodie being shot, and now Bo and Luke. Several lives being shattered and changed at the clutches of these violent gang members that had beaten them or shot them or both in order to achieve what they wanted.

“They’re locked up, Sheriff,” I hear someone say from besides me and I avert my attention away from the two cell full of criminals to look at one of the four agents that had tagged along back to the station with Enos and I. “They won’t be going no where for a couple of hours until we load ‘em back up to Atlanta with us. You OK?”

“I. . .I don’t know,” I finally respond as I slowly turn to follow Enos back upstairs away from the gang and a couple agents follow me upstairs to leave a couple downstairs to guard their prisoners, “how can you be after all they’ve done? Not only to the innocent people of Hazzard, but to your fellow agents? They cold blooded killed the two guards here last night and more during the raid and yet -“

”Well Sheriff, living in the city and being with the FBI, it is always in the back of your mind that you could be next. Or your partner. Any of us could be the next one killed. It becomes part of the job hazard I guess, but a part of life,” he pauses as we reach the sheriff’s station part of the building, “sad and hard to deal with. But life has to go on for the rest of us and it is up to us to pick up the pieces and go ahead.” He pauses as two more agents sit at the desk playing cards, guarding the upstairs, “It’s hard for everyone, especially when innocent citizens are involved.”

I nod as I watch Enos pulling up a seat and joins the agents in their card game before I take a couple of steps to the small platform that leads to my desk, the two upstairs cells surrounding my desk. I nervously straighten up my desk before looking up to the cell on the left of my desk where Garrett Duke sits upon his cot, a bottle of pop sitting on the floor next to his foot and a lit cigarette in his hand as he looks through a sports magazine. All of which the FBI has rewarded him with for his bravery and all that he did to help capturing Max and his gang after he had forcefully escaped while holding me at gun point.

“I hope you don’t take anything personal, Sheriff. I had to find a way to clear my name and I thought that may be my last chance,” Garrett slowly breaks his silence, pausing to breathe in his smoke, letting it out, he continues, “so I had to take it while I could. Plus I thought if I could do a little go in doing so, it may help me out a little bit. You and your deputy just were in the way. Hopefully no hard feelings.”

I look at him for a moment before taking a step over to his steel bars and take in his hardened looks, his violent looking scar, and his emotionless cold eyes. “No hard feelings here. You saved a kid’s life and help bring hope to a couple of my local citizens, how could I bring that against you,” I pause slowly, “I’m just sorry that I arrested you to begin with instead of listening to you and your sister.”

He shrugs as he looks up from his magazine. “As my sister likes to say,” he gives me a small smile, “I bring it upon myself through how I live and portray myself with my attitude. Though I will defend myself, I didn’t do it.”

I nod. “That has become apparent to all of us,” I slowly respond while silently comparing him with his twin Bo that lies at the hospital badly beaten and still un-conscience at the hospital. “You and Bo look little a like.”

Once again, he shrugs. “Maybe it has something to do with the different lifestyles,” he finally says as his attention goes back to his sports magazine and I slowly turn away from him.

“Rosco!” a loud and familiar voice booms behind me to ricochet off of the thin walls to force Garrett to look up in surprise and I slowly turn around to face Boss who walks into the sheriff’s station. The two agents that play cards with Enos stop to glance up at Boss who stares at them and then at me, a lit cigar hanging from his mouth and anger thick in his dark brown eyes. “How dare you not call me and tell me what’s going on!” Boss continues to yell as he walks up to me before stopping a couple of inches in front of me, “Hazzard is my county, you and Enos are  my  law enforcement, and it is I who runs this department and yet you didn’t call me to let me in on your raid?!”

“Well actually Boss,” I slowly start, “it wasn’t my raid, it was Sergeant Mills’ and the FBI’s raid. Mills called me at home to come over to help give them directions as did Agent Mueller call Enos to help with their back up crew.  It was late and I was tired, I didn’t even think of calling you. Sorry, Boss.”

“How convenient of you to forget and tell me about what is going on in my county!” he booms as he waves his lit cigar in my face, “Well I’m here now. Why don’t you tell me what had happened?!”

I eye him momentarily as my past arguments with him enters my mind of sticking up against him as I hadn’t done in the past and as I glance around to find them all looking at me, watching us, I slowly decide to call upon some respect. “You know what, Boss?” I slowly ask, “I am tired of being talked to like that and ordered around as if I am your little puppet. All of this is to come to a halt if you want me to remain as your sheriff otherwise I will turn around and walk out that door and not look back.”

“Oh yeah? What will you do then?” Hogg smirks, “Because I control each business in this here town and I can easily tell them not to hire you on, leaving you jobless and moneyless.”

I eye him for a long moment, considering what I am proposing to do in order to get a little respect that Hogg refuses to give to most people unless they have money or food to offer him.  “You may have most control over Hazzard and the businesses that keeps it alive,” I pause to look him boldly in the eye, “and I love living here and the people. I enjoy working here as sheriff. But there are other places I can turn to for employment outside of Hazzard and other places to live than Hazzard.”

“You wouldn’t?” Hogg asks taking a step back, a look of disbelief and a little hint of fear enters his dark eyes and I reluctantly nod, “OK, ok,” he puts his hands up in surrender, “You’re right. You deserve a little respect…as does Enos. I’m sorry, Rosco.”

“That’s a good start,” I slowly respond as I take a seat in my office chair, “As to what had happened,” I slowly go into detail of what had happened, from the two agents guarding the prisoners being shot and Garrett and Ronnie escaping all the way to how Garrett had helped capture Max. “Bo and Luke are in the hospital in stable and critical care as is the agent’s kid who suffers from cuts and bruises.”

“Max is in jail?” he asks, relief in his words and I slowly nod, “That’s the best news I heard in a long time.” He turns to Garrett who sits on his cot, looking at us with interest in our argument, “Well Garrett, I guess we were wrong about you after all.”

“Hmm. Imagine that,” Garrett offers an ornery smirk at Hogg as he smashes out his cigarette into the ashtray we had given him, “now if you all would just let me go free, I’d be happy.”

“We went through this,” one of the agents at the small desk on the main floor calls out, “we could if you didn’t already had charges of breaking and entering, theft, vandalism, resisting arrest, and assaulting a police officer place on you in Knoxville.”

Garrett shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I could always wish,” he sighs audibly before turning the page on his magazine.

***UNCLE JESSE***

The night’s light breeze gently brushes up against the back of my neck as I numbly step out of my old truck and out into the brightly lit parking lot to hesitantly glance up at the tall and long tan brick building that looms ahead. Staring silently up at the too familiar hospital, a small worm of hope slowly arises within me at the thought that my boys only lies several feet away from me, safe within the walls of the hospital. Dread and fear quickly drown my hope as the agent’s description of Bo’s and Luke’s condition had been when they had been taken away to the hospital echo in the back of my mind. They had been found badly beaten and barely alive more than a half hour ago and even with the help of the paramedics and doctors if they are strong enough to pull through it all.

“Jesse,” Daisy’s soft voice pulls my thoughts and attention back to the brightly lit hospital parking lot and I hesitantly look away from the hospital to glance down at her fully dressed after changing quickly after the agent’s visit. “You OK?”

I slowly nod as I struggle with the rush of emotions that violently floods within me, emotions of hope and relief, happiness and disbelief, mixed with fear, dread, and worry of what lies ahead of us. Lies ahead for the boys. “I’ll be fine,” I force a smile at her as she hugs onto my arm as I slowly begin to walk towards the entrance of the hospital, “just worried, I guess.”

“Me too,” she slowly pauses as we reach the sidewalk that surrounds the front of the hospital, “but at least we know they were alive as of a half hour ago. That was without help, now they’ve got help.”

Once again, I nod at her as I come to a halt as we come to be directly in front of the public entrance as my attention is pulled onto the automatic doors that lies several feet away at the far left end corner. A thick cement cover leads from the building over the doors and across the long and wide road before two cement pillars lead down from the roof and down onto another thick slab of dried cement. Two ambulances are parked directly in front of the door, their lights brightly flicking blue and red lights silently flash across the road and sidewalk and off of the building itself. The entrance to the emergency room where my boys lies fighting for their lives that the gang had attempted to steal away from them.

“Jesse,” Daisy once again breaks the silence while gently tugging on my elbow and I slowly glance away from the silent lights and onto her before nodding and following her to the public automatic doors. “They’ll be fine.” She finally speaks up again as we enter the hallway to make a familiar left turn and walk several silent steps before we enter the emergency room waiting room.

“Yeah. Hopefully,” I force another dry smile at her before I silently glance around the large and open room to find several agents sitting upon the cushioned bench chairs that rest against the right wall. The secretary’s desk lies hidden behind a thick wall with thick clear windows that she can open and close at the far wall where another hall leads the emergency room on the right side of the wall while on the far left of their wall, lies another hall leading to rooms.

“Jesse Duke,” a tall agent slowly stands up in the middle of the agents, his sandy brown hair is cut thin and close to his head while he stares at me with emotionless thick green eyes. Chills dread run up my back at the sight of Sergeant Mills confidently walking towards us with his hands hidden in the pockets of his windbreaker. Dread at the remembrance of our last encounter, after Rhuebottom had been killed and how he had treated me when I had went to report to Rosco about Bo and Luke disappearing when they had went to look for Cooter’s attackers. Of how sure he had been of Bo’s guilt and involvement with the gang, of how anxious he had been to get to Bo in order to put him away with Max and the rest of his hardened gang.

“Sergeant,” I eye him hardly, fighting to control my temper and my emotions, “I am sure that now that you got Max and his gang in custody and have rescued my boys from their kidnappers, that you have cleared Bo’s name and found him innocent.”

For a moment, surprise crosses his hardened face before it disappears and his arms tightly cross his chest while he stares at me for a long moment. “Well Mr. Duke,” he finally says as two other agents join him, “as of now, I am not inclined to clear his name from the guilt that he has created for himself by joining the gang…not until we come across more evidence that will prove else wise. You were at the store when it was robbed, you saw for yourself that it was Bo as well as other people had identified it to be Bo. There and at the bank, his note at the gun store. He shot at Agent Mueller. We can’t just look the other way, Mr. Duke. I’m sorry.”

“Well then, Sergeant,” I place a caring hand upon Daisy’s tense shoulder, “until you are ready to give my nephew a chance to redeem himself and to explain why, then I am done talking to you and your men. Bo wouldn’t do that, not unless he was forced into doing it.”

“Mr. Duke. Stop,” Mills pleas with me as I take a step away from him, “you were there, Mr. Duke. No one had a gun to him. He had the gun, he’s the one that shot it. I’m sorry that he turned on you. As I said earlier, he’s not the only kid that has turned on their parents or guardian to join a gang, I’ve seen the least likely ones turn and become murderers. One day they are caring and loving, the next they are killing people to fit in with their new group of friends. Bo’s not the only one -“

”Bo didn’t turn on me, Sergeant!” I yell at him as I take a couple of steps closer to him to force him to back up, “He may have been the one with the gun, the one who shot it, but there was a reason for it! You don’t know Bo or Luke, nor do you care about getting to know them or about them! All you care about is the evidence tying him the damn gang, the evidence that makes him look as if he belongs to the gang.”

“Evidence don’t lie, Mr. Duke,” he sternly replies, “we got several witnesses tying him to the gang. I’m sorry.”

“Evidently you do,” I spit back at him, “because if you were so sorry as you keep saying you are, you’d do a little research and look deeper than your witnesses and supposed evidence. But you won’t, you know why?!” I pause dramatically, “Because you’re afraid of finding out the truth. The truth being that Bo’s not a part of that gang, you’ll find a reason for Bo’s involvement, a reason other than being a part of the gang! You’re afraid of finding Bo innocent of everything.”

Mills eyes me silently for a long moment as the other two agents nervously glance at him and then back at us while Daisy hugs tighter onto my elbow for support. “We are still investigating, Mr. Duke. We have investigators at their hideout,” he pauses, “and believe it or not, we did research on your boys. And other than their arrest for running shine, they both ran a pretty clean report. So no, Bo wouldn’t be my first choice or suspect in this crime. But I have to follow the evidence, Mr. Duke.”

I shake my head in disgust at him as I abruptly become hot as my temper continues to boil within me towards the sergeant and his men standing in front of me, of what he is saying, of what he is accusing Bo of. “Well Sergeant Mills, good luck in your investigation. I’m done wasting my time with you and your boys when you won’t even listen or give Bo a chance,” I pause to take a step back, “Now if y’all will excuse me, we’re here for my boys. To see my boys.”

Sergeant Mills takes a frustrated breath as we turn around and begin to walk to the far wall away from them to walk to the front desk to the first out of three slots where the only secretary sits, the other two closed for the night. “Excuse me ma’am,” I slowly state as a young petite red haired woman sits typing at a computer and she looks up at me with emerald green eyes, “we’re here for Bo and Luke Duke.”

She nods. “I heard you talking to the feds over there, you sound pretty upset,” she looks back at her screen while typing before looking up at me, “OK, I let them know they’ve got family here. Will you fill out the paper work while you wait for them?”

I nod as I take the clipboard and slowly walk over to the closest chair to sit down and Daisy slowly sits down next to me, sighing heavily. “You Ok?” I slowly ask as I begin to fill out Luke’s name on the first sheet of paper.

“I just can’t come to accept all of this. I mean, the boys are always getting into some sort of trouble, but it is normally with Boss’ men and the charges are normally false and hold little merit. Something the boys could work with to clear their names, but them?” she looks up from the floor to look at the group of agents that remain sitting across the room, “Those are the FBI. Not Rosco and Boss. How can you clear Bo’s name when he’s so stubborn and set upon Bo’s guilt? Even if Bo can walk out of this hospital alive and well, he’s looking at years behind bars at the state pen by himself. He’ll never be able to survive that.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I pause as I continue to fill out Luke’s information, my mind bouncing from the boys and their situation and onto the bleak future, “I’m sure once he does more investigating, the truth will come out and Bo’s name will be cleared. As of now, they don’t have Bo’s or Luke’s side of the story. Or the kid’s. He’s still riding on the information he had before tonight’s raid. Have faith, Daisy. It’ll work out.”

She nods silently as I slowly finish Luke’s paper work to reluctantly turn to the other paper and begin to write Bo’s full name on the top line and then his date of birth. “I hope you’re right,” she finally responds, resting her head on my shoulder, “Damn, I hate this waiting.”

I nod in agreement as I silently continue to fill out Bo’s paper work on his information, my mind falling back several weeks ago when all this started with Cooter’s beating. Of the attack that had landed Bo in the hospital to meeting Kristy for the first time in a long time to the boys first disappearing. Of Bo’s ex-girlfriend identifying him as the main robber at the bank to Rhuebottom’s robbery and of seeing Bo dressed in the ski mask and dark windbreaker with a gun in hand for myself. Of his hardened eyes immediately melting into intense sadness and fear as he had seen me in the store before the other robber besides him whispered something in his ear, the same hardened look abruptly crept in his baby blue eyes as he had quickly looked away. And then Agent Russler showing up at our porch two this morning with news that the last he knew, the boys were beaten badly, but alive. Even with Max and his men stopped and captured, the FBI yet accuses Bo of being apart of the violent gang and acting on his own during the robberies, threatening silently with charges to be brought upon Bo for his actions.

*                                  *                                  *                                  *

“Duke,” a husky voice breaks the silence that has captured the waiting room within the past hour since I had finished filling out the paper work. Tiredly, I slowly glance up to find a tall and younger doctor standing in front of me with a clipboard in his hand, eyeing Daisy and I with concern.

Glancing over at Daisy, I nudge her silently as she sleeps silently on my shoulder and she moans tiredly before she awakens and sits up. “That’s us,” I slowly stand up to stand an inch shorter than him. “How’s my boys, doctor?”

He sighs heavily. “I’m Doctor Weaver. I was Bo’s doctor several weeks ago for his attack and him once again his doctor,” he lends a calming smile as he looks over his clipboard once more as Daisy stands up to join me, “Luke is still in the emergency room. They had to do surgery to take the bullet out, but I think they should be about done by the looks of things.”

I silently nod while taking in all he had said. “How’s Bo, doctor?” I slowly ask, silently praying for good news out of the bleak and sad situation.

“Well, we finally got his breathing and heartbeat stabilized. When he was found and placed in the ambulance he wasn’t breathing and his heartbeat was very weak and minimal, it had taken us awhile to get him to breathe and to get his heartbeat at a comfortable rate,” he pauses, “but for now, I think we got him stabilized and he should be fine. He had internal bleeding that had taken us a while to stop and get under control, so sorry it had taken us so long to come out here with word.” He pauses to look at his notes once more, “Bo suffered from a pretty bad concussion, broke a couple of ribs, his right shoulder was badly dislocated, and he has really bad rope burns around his ankles and wrists. Doesn’t look like from a rope, but something small and tight that had been wrapped around them, looking to cut off circulation for some time. We’re going to have to wait until he wakes up to see if he has how much feeling he has in his hands and feet, if any at all.” He pauses once again to eye Daisy and I, his green eyes full of worry and sadness, “He is badly beaten, bruised, and cut. And his asthma,” he grows quiet for a long moment, “is really out of control right now. His lungs are thickly infected as he went so long suffering an attack and without any medication to help out, he is not able to breathe on his own at this moment.”

Fear and sadness runs deeply within me as his update on Bo’s health slowly sinks in, my imagination once again drawing vivid images of Bo badly beaten. “Will he,” I slowly begin, “be OK?”

He slowly nods. “We think he should be fine for the most part. Right now we are really concerned with his breathing and about his hands and feet. If he doesn’t have any feeling in them in the next couple of days, we’ll have to run through options I really don’t want to think about unless it is necessary. We will know better once he wakes up and can tell us himself, but we got him stabilized and his attacks are as much as under control as we can get it.”

“OK,” I numbly nod, “can I see him?”

Doctor Weaver slowly nods as he once again eyes Daisy and then back at me before responding, “One at a time. Follow me.” He goes silent as he leads me down the hall way left of the partition of the desk and waiting room.  “Just for warning, Mr. Duke, he looks pretty bad. As of now, we got an air tube in his throat, but we are hoping once he awakens he will start breathing on his own and we can remove the tube and leave him with the tube in the nose for assistance,” he pauses once more as we come to a halt in front of a closed door, my nephew’s name written in boldly on a card in a slot next to the door. Turning to me, he continues, “He is still un-conscience, but we are predicting that it shouldn’t take him very long to waken up. He kinda acted as if he was going to wake up in the emergency room when he started twitching and had attempted to say something or make some sort of noise from under the breathing tube. After a short moment though, he had stopped moving and went quiet once again. So I guess time will tell.”

I nod. “Thank-you Doctor,” I slowly respond.

“Yeah,” he sighs slowly as he takes a step back, “I’ll be around if you need anything or have any questions. If and when he does wake up, please come and get me as soon as possible. The sooner we can talk to him and check with his hands and feet, the better. Plus, we could see about removing the tube.”

“OK,” I nod as I watch him slowly turning around to disappear around the corner before I turn to face the closed door, my mind going through all of what Doctor Weaver had just said. Of Bo’s bleak and painful condition, yet he remains alive and should be fine. Sighing heavily and saying a small and silent prayer, I slowly open the door to be welcomed by thick darkness and a loud, slow, and un-rhythmic  beeping of his machines. Taking a step in, I slowly close the door behind me to entrap myself in the darkness before I take a couple of steps into the room to the large TV stand where a small lamp sits besides the small TV. A small ray of light shines from the lamp to lighten up the room a little as I slowly move away from the lamp to walk over to Bo’s old hospital bed and a thick wave of emotions run over me. Doctor Weaver had clearly explained his condition and had warned me of how bad he looks, but seeing it for myself sends fear and horror racing rapidly through me. His young face is swollen with bruises and cuts, his eyes remain tightly closed while a tube is taped and shoved down his throat while the small air tube lies in his nose and around his ears. Several IVs run down into his bare and bruised arms that rests upon the thin white sheet that covers him, deep and ugly indents circle each wrist surrounded by ugly dark bruises.

“Bo,” I silently say as I brush his thick blond bangs out of his bruised eyes to find an ugly dark bruise surrounding a thick cut spreading a couple of inches across his upper right forehead. Tears abruptly begin to melt down my cheeks at the sight of how badly beaten and bruised Bo is as my imagination draws vivid scenes of all that he may have lived through. Staring at Bo’s still and beaten body, I silently wonder how bad Luke looks and how bad his condition is as they remove the bullet he had been shot with in order for the gang to take him down. “I’m here for you, Bo. Right here, no matter what,” I pause to slowly sit down upon the old chair that lies besides his bed, “Daisy and I both are. Oh,” I force a smile, “Cooter woke up while y’all were gone. He’s gonna be fine.”

His monitors beep loudly and slow to respond while the air tube continues to hiss air down into him while his eyes remain closed and his body lies still under the sheet.

***BO DUKE*** 

Pain screams deeply within me as darkness thickly surrounds me while a loud piercing beeping seems to ring annoyingly somewhere close to send confusion rippling deeply within me. Last I had known I was tied on the floor with the man who had been arrested for beating Cooter chasing Max as he had grabbed Keith and had taken him outside. Now I lie lost in thick darkness with odd sounds surrounding me, pain throbbing heavily through my numb body and as I attempt to move am surprised as through the darkness, I can feel my arms moving. Freed from the thick and painful ropes, relief slowly builds within me as I am once again surprised as a familiar voice rings out from somewhere close. Not from Max or one of the gang member, but someone familiar, yet the voice sounds too distant to recognize, the voice seeming to grow stronger and louder with each word before the voice fades away.

Slowly, I feel my heavy eye lids pulling open and a bright light painfully shines in my eyes to force my eyes to slowly adjust from the darkness to the light. The slow and loud beeping quickly grows close and for a moment fear rushes through me with more questions of where I am and how I had gotten here. Reluctantly, I glance around the small room that surrounds me before it slowly registers within me that I’m in a hospital room surrounded by medical machines and equipment. The pain scratching down my throat is from an air tube helping me to breathe, the beeping coming from TV shaped monitors, while several needles are stuck into me running fluid or something from the IV bags on their stands.

Relief and hope thickly spreads through my numb body as I come to realize that I’m alive and free from Max and his gang before Luke’s beaten face abruptly flashes in my mind to remind me of what I had done. Of failing to kill the agent as I was told to do, failing to kill the agent knowing what would happen if I hadn’t done what I was told to do. I had Luke killed and yet I remain alive. Guilt and anger thickly races through my pained body as my imagination begins to replay the tape they had forced me to watch, of Max beating Luke to death, of Luke’s closed eyes as he had awaited helplessly for Max to shoot and kill him. All because I had failed to do as I was told to do, I failed Luke.

Abruptly, my thoughts are interrupted as the wooden door squeaks open and I painfully turn to look to find Jesse walking in with the same doctor that had helped me when Luke had taken me in after Cooter had been attacked. For a moment, relief and excitement builds within me despite the anger and guilt that continues to race through me and as I go to say something, I am harshly choked up by the tube in my throat. “Shhhh Bo,” Jesse flashes a small smile at me, his crystal blue eyes shine of worry and sadness to send my thoughts back to Rhuebottom and the strong look of surprise and disapproval I had seen in his face as he recognized me. “Don’t say anything,” he pauses as the doctor moves in front of him  before stopping directly next to me, Jesse walking to the other side of the bed, “it’ll be OK.” I eye Jesse for a long moment in argument as my thoughts once again return to Luke, of how Jesse is dealing with it. Wondering silently how he could be here with me knowing I had him killed.

“Well Bo,” the doctor finally breaks his silence, “your breathing has strongly improved now that you’ve awakened. Just as we thought it would. How about we remove that tube?” I eye him hesitantly and he gives me a sympathetic smile, “On the count to three, blow out. One. . .two. . .three.” I slowly blow out as instructed and he painfully pulls the tube out of my throat and I am thrown into a harsh attack of coughing for a long moment. “There you go. Now you can tell me in your own words how you feel.”

I eye Jesse who gives me another small smile while nodding at me while his hand goes to my shoulder and I slowly glance back at the doctor, wishing everything to disappear. “It hurts,” I gasp, struggling to breathe as I watch him writing something on his clipboard, “everywhere.”

“OK,” he slowly says, “perhaps it’s time to give you more pain killers. How about your hands and feet? Can you feel them or move them?”

I eye him questionably before my attention falls back to my hands that rest upon the thin sheet to find them darkly bruised with a large indent around my wrists where the cable had been tightly tied around. I hesitantly lift both of my hands to send pain streaking down both of my arms while I slowly lift both my feet from beneath the cover to send more pain up and down my legs while a painful tingling spreads through my feet and hands. “I guess so,” I slowly respond, “though it hurts. They feel like they’ve been asleep and I just tried to use them or something.”

The doctor nods while writing something on his clipboard before he sets the clipboard down upon my bed stand and reaches over and begins to touch each of my finger tips. “You feel this?” he asks at each finger and toe tip, stopping at each for my response of which I nod to each one.

“I felt it,” I slowly respond before coughing forcefully and painfully, “but barely.”

“Well barely is a lot better than what I was expecting,” he says as he goes back to writing on his clipboard, “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel anything. Your circulation was surely cut off for the most part, lucky for you they didn’t cut off all of your circulation. If they did, you wouldn’t feel a damn thing and we’d have to amputate whatever you couldn’t feel.”

“Lucky me,” I sarcastically respond to receive a stiff look of more disapproval from Jesse and a skeptical look from the doctor.

“Well, thank-you for your cooperation, Bo. I’ve got to go tend to other patience, if you need anything, I’ll be around. Meanwhile, your nurse should be here to refill your IV bags within the next few minutes,” Doctor Weaver says as he takes a couple of steps back before turning around and the room goes silent as he makes his way out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with Jesse.

“Bo,” Jesse slowly says to break the silence between us and I hesitantly look away from the closed door and onto him to find a look of relief written across his face, “you both had us all very worried. First Cooter and then you two. They say you should be fine, I can’t explain the relief that brings Daisy and I.”

“Yeah well,” I force out, it coming out as a loud whisper, “it’d be better for everyone if I had died.”

“What?” he asks, hurt and disbelief screaming from his single worded question, “How can you say that? You know we care -“

”Yeah, well, you shouldn’t,” I slowly respond as raw emotions violently explodes within me as my mind rewinds from climbing out of The General and being kidnaped to waking up in the hospital only minutes ago. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Don’t say that. We should care and you do deserve it. I don’t understand how you could -“ he abruptly cuts himself off as a look of understanding crosses his wise face and he slowly nods. “I don’t know what made you rob Rhuebottom’s or those other banks and stores,” he pauses for a long moment, his hand moves from my shoulder to brush my bangs out of my eyes, “but I’m sure it had to do with the gang. I know you too well to think otherwise. I believe in you Bo.” He goes silent for a moment as he eyes my chest and then the monitors as my breathing becomes more of a struggle. Eyeing me once again, he asks, “You want to talk about it?”

I eye him hardly for a long moment. “No,” I forcefully respond as exhaustion begins to settle within my throbbing body, “other than to say, I’m sorry, Uncle Jesse.”

“Sorry?” he questions shaking his head, “There’s no need for you to be sorry, Bo.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I force out as I fight back sleep and the tears that sting my eyes, “I had Luke killed.”

He quickly becomes alert as he raises his hands away from me and seems to take a step back before looking questionably at me. “What are you talking about?” he finally asks, pain and sadness entering his eyes before he shakes his head once more to step back to the bars of my bed, “He’s not dead, Bo. He’s in the ER. You didn’t have him killed.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I abruptly yell at him to send the fiery pain my lungs to explode to send my coughing harshly and as he places a caring hand on my shoulder I quickly push him away. “Leave me alone! I know what I did!”

With that the door flies open as my monitors beep loudly as my breathing worsens and Dr. Weaver quickly walks into the room. “What did you do?” Jesse helplessly asks besides me.

“I said -“ I start before being interrupted by more coughing for a short moment, “leave me alone! I don’t want to talk to you! Get out!”

“Bo!” I hear Jesse and the doctor say my name at the same time as darkness once more surrounds me as I feel my breathing coming to a painful halt.

***UNCLE JESSE***

Intense surprise and sadness floods heavily within me as I silently watch Doctor Weaver quickly closing the door behind him before taking a few steps to Bo’s side across the bed from where I stand. For a moment Weaver eyes me with accusatory green eyes before he glances at Bo’s monitors and then down at Bo who struggles painfully for air. “What did you do?” I hear myself asking Bo, questions soar powerfully within me, stemming from his declaration only moments ago. His declaration that he had Luke killed.

“I said -“ Bo starts to yell at me again before being interrupted by harsh and intense coughing that sends more tears streaking down Bo’s pale and bruised cheeks. After a moment the coughing resides back into intense wheezing as he fights desperately to breathe before he continues, “leave me alone! I don’t want to talk to you! Get out!”

Once more Weaver sends accusatory glares at me as he places a caring hand upon Bo’s bruised shoulder in attempt to distract him from me and his source of anger that has thrown him into another attack. Fear rushes rapidly through me as Bo’s wheezing comes to a halt and his thin chest stops struggling up and down to become silent and still. “Bo!” I hear myself cry out as Bo’s baby blue eyes slowly fall shut while his chest slowly rises once again before falling still as he continues fight to breathe through his attack.

“Mr. Duke,” Weaver stiffly says and I reluctantly look up from Bo’s still body, “I am going to ask you to leave Bo’s room until he asks for you to re-enter.”

“Doctor Weaver,” I slowly protest, my eyes fall upon my nephew as the door squeaks open and I glance up to find a nurse walking in with a cart of medicines and machines, looking back to Weaver, I say, “Bo’s my nephew.”

“I know and understand how you must feel, Mr. Duke, but for now I think it would be best for Bo if you were to leave until he is ready to face you. Obviously he’s gone through a lot of trauma and he’s upset. The more he gets upset, the more it will throw off his asthma and his breathing as he has just shown us,” he pauses as he grabs a breathing treatment machine off of the cart and slowly puts it together, “I know it is in both of our best interest that he should rest and work on getting stronger and better and in order to do that it is best for him not getting upset as he just was. I’m not blaming you, I just think it would be best for him if you were to leave until he is ready to talk to you. I’m sorry, Mr. Duke.”

I nod in understanding as I brush his bangs out of closed eyes once more, taking in his bruises and injuries he has suffered through before I slowly begin to step away. As I reach the door, I slowly glance back at Bo as Doctor Weaver places the mask on Bo’s face to begin to administer a breathing treatment in hope to relax Bo’s breathing back to normal. Saying a silent prayer, I slowly open the door before stepping out into the brightly lit hallway and close the door behind me.

Staring at Bo’s closed door, intense surprise and sadness once again runs through me as all that Bo had said begins to yell back at me from within me. Surprised at how angry and upset he had been at me and sadness at the meaning behind each word he had yelled at me. He has gotten upset at me before, but never has he before every been that upset or had yelled at me as he had nor has he ever told me to get away or that he didn’t want to talk to me. In the past, with his emotional disorder, he had always wanted to talk to me if something had been bothering him or if he was upset about something. Now. . .

“Yeah, I’m sorry. . .I had Luke killed,” his frail voice hauntingly whispers back at me to send chills up and down my back as questions build within me. Questions of what he had been forced to live through the week or so he had been held hostage, questions of how he had became so certain that Luke had been killed, and questions of what he had meant that he had Luke killed. Bo had always looked up to Luke, cared about Luke, and what Luke had thought of him. Bo would do anything to help save Luke if he felt Luke’s life was in jeopardy, yet he was sure he had Luke killed. But how and why?

“Sir,” a soft voice says behind me as a caring hand lands upon my shoulder and I slowly turn around to find a petite nurse with long dark brown hair tied in a tight bun standing behind me, looking at me with soft caring brown eyes, “you OK?”

“Um yeah,” I sigh heavily as I give Bo’s closed door a last look and then back at her, “as ok as I’ll ever be for now. Thanks.”

“Well if you need anything,” she offers me a smile, “I’ll be around. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“OK, thanks,” I nod as I watch as she confidently walks away and I slowly walk in the opposite direction and back into the waiting room where Daisy sits where she had been when I had left her.

“Jesse,” she forces a sad smile up at me as she looks up from her magazine to find me sitting down next to her, “how is he?”

Taking a deep breath, I struggle for words to answer her question without making it any harder on her than what it already is. “I don’t know sweetie. Doctor Weaver is right, he looks pretty bad and sounds even worse,” I pause for a long moment, “and was pretty upset when he had awaken. I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’ll just need a little time.”

She silently wipes at her eyes while nodding. “Can I go see him?” she slowly asks, eyeing me inquisitively.

“I . . .I don’t think so,” I slowly respond as I begin to explain to her how Bo had gotten upset and yelled at me to go until he had passed out during the attack his anger had brought upon him, of how Doctor Weaver had been giving him a breathing treatment after he had asked me to go. “Perhaps you should give him a little while.”

“OK,” she nods stiffly as she pushes herself back into her chair, “a nurse had just came out a few minutes ago to tell me that Luke’s doctor should be out briefly to explain Luke’s condition.”