A shrill of excitement abruptly erupts from within me as I take a step back to admire the hard work that I had put into fixing the proud and powerful 1972 Corvette. The dim lights reflect off of the darkly tinted windows while the blue hood lies open the heart of the car, the silver engine shining within the dark garage. “Ol’ Vin is gonna love it,” I laugh out loud to break the eery silence that thickly fills the garage. Silence that is barely known within the busy garage that is normally filled with people talking and laughing back and forth while they nosily work on broken down and damaged vehicles. Now at ten o’clock at night and after closing hours, thick silence captivates the old garage that I had reopened and made it my own only five years ago.

Sighing heavily, I take a last look at the engine before walking over to the nearest desk to pick up the black remote control to turn on the radio that lies on the shelf in the far right corner. Abruptly, an old Waylon Jennings song penetrates through the thick silence and an odd worm of relief crawls through me as I return to the muscle car. Returning to work under the hood, I begin to sing along with Waylon as an old memory flashes in my head of listening to Waylon with my cousin on the often times I had been sent to stay with his family. A small smile spreads across my face at the thought of Hazzard and the times I had spent there while growing up, of the trouble we had created and the fun that we had enjoyed.

“What -“ I slowly start to say as the radio abruptly turns off for the silence to return to spread surprise within me. Taking a deep breath, I slowly glance over the hood to find Ethan McKleen standing in the middle of the room, slowly making his way toward me. “Ethaniel McKleen!” I step back and he abruptly comes to an halt with uncertainty, “Waylon was on the radio, why you go and turn it off for?”

He shrugs nervously before he slowly continues his way towards me while eyeing me with his penetrating green eyes. “It’s almost ten thirty at night, why you still at work for?” he quietly throws back at me as he comes to a halt a couple of feet in front of me to slowly take in the bright blue muscle car. “Though I shoulda known you’d be here…what you gonna do when Vin comes this afternoon to pick the car up?”

“Cry,” I force a smile at him as I follow his stare at the car to once again admire it, “one of these days I’m gonna find the money and buy one for myself. Problem is, is I gotta find a way to find the money.” I go silent as I study my newest employee as he nervously runs his hand through his copper brown curly hair while struggling to make eye contact with me. “So Ethan,” I finally say calmly, “as you say, it’s almost ten thirty at night, what brings you back to work?”

He shyly looks at me before he reaches behind him to bring out a folded newspaper to eye it nervously before looking back up at me. “I. . .uh. . .found this in the garbage can outside my apartment tonight when I got home. It’s a day late,” he shrugs as he nervously hands me the folded newspaper, “but I thought you might want to read it. . .and as soon as possible. If I am wrong,” he looks down at his feet for a moment while taking step back before looking back up at me, “sorry for interrupting you.”

I eye him skeptically for a moment before I glance down at the folded paper in my hands as a thick wave of dread quickly washes over me. Swallowing hard, I slowly force myself to open it to have horror and fear abruptly take me hostage as the big picture that captivates the middle of the page is of a black and white photo of my cousin lying bruised and crushed in a hospital. HAZZARD MECHANIC IS BEATEN, LEFT FOR DEAD lies printed boldly over the photo to send my heart beating rapidly within me as I force myself to read the dreaded article to find my cousin lost within a deep coma and struggling between life and death. Finishing the article, I stare at the photo for a long silent moment as memories of the last time I had seen him quickly flash in the back of my mind, of his angry wrath as he sent me packing for home.

“Damn it,” I slowly hiss as I glance away from the article and across my dark garage before eyeing Ethan who stands leaning against the trunk of the car.

“I thought I remembered you mentioning a time or two of a cousin in Hazzard,” he slowly speaks up as his hand once again goes through his hair, “and his last name being Davenport,” he shrugs silently.

“He’s my cousin,” I nod, “I use to spend my weekends, summers, and holidays at his place. Anytime my old drunken father could get rid of me he would…and they’d accept me for some odd reason or another.”

He nods silently at me as he quickly looks away from me to remind me of his own shady and broken past. Not of his father, but from his older and stronger brothers that abused him any chance they got and of now has pretty much stolen the garage away from their elderly father that is struggling against cancer.  “I’m sorry LB,” he finally speaks up to break the silence, “I hope. . . I hope that he’ll be OK, that he’ll pull through this.”

I nod. “Cooter’s tough, he’ll fight this with all he’s got, the rest is up to the good Lord to handle.” I once again go silent as my argument with Cooter a couple of years ago rings loudly in my ears to send guilt to quickly build within me of the harsh words that I had spoken against him. “How you feel about a road trip and a little break from Capital City?”

“A break?” he skeptically asks.

“Yeah. You and me,” I slowly start as I struggle to fight back the emotions that continue to pound within me, “take a little trip down to Hazzard and pay Cooter a visit. We can reopen his garage for the kind people in Hazzard and take care of things that need taken care of while Cooter is in the hospital.”

He eyes me wildly for a moment before his attention falls upon the paper in my hand. “What about,” he looks back up at me, “your garage? That’ll leave them -“

”Don’t worry about the garage,” I wave it off, “I’ll give Al a call in the morning to let him know and to put him in charge while I am away. He can close off our stalls and take a lighter load or shuffle it any way he wants to. I think it’d do you some good to get away from here and to escape to a slower and quieter way to live than all this.”

He shrugs quietly. “If that’s what you want, I’m game for something new,” he finally responds.

“OK then. I suggest you to go home, pack, and get some rest. I’ll pick you up at your apartment at eight tomorrow morning. That’ll give me an hour or so to tidy up here and get a little done before Al shows up to fill him in,” I muse out loud, “second thought. I’ll be at your apartment at eight thirty and you can follow me to Hazzard. That way we’ll have both our vehicles there.”

“I’ll be ready,” Ethan nods as he takes a couple of steps behind. “I’m sorry about your cousin.”

“Thanks Ethan. I’ll see you in the morning,” I wave at him as I watch him slowly walking back through the dimly lit garage and back out through the walk-in door to leave me alone. Once more I look at the muscle car, no longer excited, but filled with fear at the thought of losing my cousin to such violence. “Why?” I speak aloud as I close the hood before I walk through the garage, following Ethan’s trail to the door as my thoughts fall fixated upon tomorrow and all I may possible find out. A lot can happen within two days, especially for someone who is barely hanging onto life.

***LUKE DUKE***

Dark gray clouds cover the early morning’s sky while the trees, bare of any leaves, sway violently to blow anything of little weight around the front yard. For a long moment, I silently watch leaves and debris being blown aimlessly around the proud and powerful General Lee while the whistling of the wind howls hauntingly. Chills slowly spread across my tense body as the chilly winter morning escapes into the farm house while my thoughts continue to race around the past few days’ events. Of Cooter’s quick and angered responses to our asking for the body parts for The General to walking into the bank yesterday to find a large dark blood stain where Brodie had fallen after being shot. Reluctantly, I glance away from the large window that lies in the middle of the wooden door to glance at the open front page of the day’s newspaper. A large black and white photo of Brodie in the hospital takes up six inches while the article takes up half of the front page describing the bank robbery yesterday that left him shot and everyone shook up. Several large gun man, the leader holding a child at gun point to get what they came from. An innocent child. More chills race up my spine, this time of fear and horror as my mind begins to wrap around the violent and vicious capabilities of the men that has entered Hazzard, which holds Hazzard as hostage. Hostage of fear and horror as everyone awaits for what will happen next, no longer feeling safe within their own homes in knowledge of such men lurking freely around our peaceful and quiet town.

“Damn it,” I say to break the silence that has built within the kitchen since everyone had left after breakfast a half hour ago. Everyone leaving to do their chores and business of the day while I had stayed behind to read the dreaded newspaper despite already knowing what it had to say, of what had happened. Staring at the picture of Bo’s friend, I quietly force myself to think of the events that has taken place, tally up all that we know that we are up against and of our options.

“You read it too?” Jesse wise voice comes from behind me before his quiet footsteps fall behind me before coming to a halt besides me, “Don’t know why I read it, not like I didn’t know what happened already.”

“I think everyone in Hazzard pretty much already knew what had happened, yet they published the article anyway. It fills up the newspaper and gives them a big story they normally don’t have,” I say as I force my attention away from the newspaper to look back outside while I finish up my morning coffee. “Being front page it makes you look at it and drives your curiosity and hope into wanting to read it. Hope that it will say that something else than what had happened, hope that it’ll say that everything will be OK. Hope despite the hard knowledge of what really happened, what we are really against.”

Glancing over, I see him silently nodding in agreement as his crystal eyes remain fixated upon the article and the picture while a lone tear falls from the corner of his right eye to soak into his thick white beard. “Well,” he pauses as he angrily throws the paper upon the floor, the pages within the paper fly out to fall a couple of feet away from the front page cover, “nothing’s going to be OK. Even when and if these horrible men get arrested or taken care of, people will always know what happened, remember. It has just began and people are emotionally scarred from the events, the breach of peace these men have created.”

I watch him for a long moment as his long solid body trembles momentarily before he angrily wipes at his face and as he sees me looking at him, I quickly look back outside. “These men will get caught and apprehended. One way or another,” I pause heavily as I go to take a drink of coffee to find it empty, “and after awhile, things will return to order. May take some time to gain trust and peace within the walls of Hazzard, but things will turn out alright at the end. Believe it or not.”

Once again he nods quietly. “I spose you’re right,” he pauses heavily as he wipes his hand across his face before he leans upon the counter, “especially now that the FBI are in town to help Rosco and Enos with it all.”

“They’ll help,” I respond as silence once again begins to build within the kitchen and I once again steal another look at my wise uncle to find fear and worry deeply planted upon his face. Sighing heavily, I say, “Though I don’t think that’s all that is troubling you, Jesse.”

He offers a small nervous laugh. “You’re observant, Lukas…as you always were,” he goes quiet as if lost in a thought or a memory of the past. “I’m just worried about Bo. Emotionally, he’s gone through a lot within the past few days,” he pauses for another long moment, “I only help make things worse.”

I look back at him as he takes a couple of steps away from me, guilt covers his face to join the fear and worry in his eyes. Emotions that he has worked so hard to hide from us over the years, now shown freely upon his wise face. “You can’t blame yourself, Jesse. You didn’t know Kristy and Garrett would show up out of the blue or that any of this would happen. You were trying to protect Bo by doing what you thought was best for him,” I slowly respond, “but for that matter, he said he already knew. That you can’t keep secrets like that in a town like Hazzard…and he’s right.”

Jesse eyes me momentarily before he tiredly takes a seat at the table to make me wonder if he’s been sleeping or up worrying the past few nights as he’s been known to do. “Yeah. I just wish he would open up and talk. To someone. It’s not like him not to talk to either you or me about what’s bothering him. . .he always has in the past,” he pauses for a long moment, “With his emotional disorder, all he’s seen and been through, it’s all making his asthma worse than what it was to begin with. His medicine doesn’t even seem to be helping him any more.”

“Call Applebee. Maybe he could prescribe him with something more or higher,” I shrug and he quietly nods while he begins to rearrange the things on the table that he can reach, “as for his emotional disorder and closing everyone out, he did that a few months ago when you had that fall while fishing. That sent you to the hospital for a couple of days with that concussion. It could be his way of dealing with stressful situations.”

He quietly takes all that in for a few quiet moments. “Could be,” he shrugs while flattening out a crinkled part of the table cloth. “Could be anything, I guess. I just -“ he starts before a car’s engine penetrates the silence from outside, “who’s that?”

I slowly glance back out through the window to find an old rusted truck slowly making it’s way into our drive way before a new shiny red truck pulls in behind it. “Don’t know. Two trucks, an old rusted one and a new one,” I pause to move away from the door. “We’ll find out soon enough,” I join him at the table to take in the worry in my uncle’s face once more. “Look, how ‘bout me and Bo go for a little ride -“

”Oh no you don’t!” Jesse abruptly yells to eye me sternly, “You and Bo turning up like Cooter and Brodie…or worse, won’t help me any!”

I roll my eyes at him. “It won’t be anything like that, Jesse. We’ll just drive around and talk. Perhaps I can talk him into opening up…it could help him to just talk about it,” I shrugs as car doors slam outside the house, “And while we’re talking, we can look for anything a miss in Hazzard. If we do, we’ll call it into the FBI.”

“No action or bravery?” he eyes me skeptically.

“None, I promise,” I raise my right hand in a promise gesture before lowering it down as he continues to eye me skeptically, “Look Jesse, we won’t do anything. I’m not dumb. It’d be two of us against a gang load of dangerous and armed men…I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Bo. You should know that by now.”

He sighs heavily. “Yeah I know,” he reluctantly responds as the screen door squeaks open and a loud knocking sound comes from the wooden door. “You get that, will you?”

“Yes sir,” I nod as I slowly stand back up to walk back to the door. Opening the door I find two tall and lean men. The one on the left stands a couple inches taller than I with a red sports hat and a red undershirt covered by baggy denim torn overalls that are stained by oil and grease while the man on the right stands a couple inches shorter than the one on the left. He wears expensive black boots with a pair of well worn denim pants with a blue shirt under a black denim coat and a silver watch planted on his left wrist. His hair is a copper brown and curly while he looks back at me with nervous green eyes, through his open coat, he proves to be more muscular and broader than the man wearing the overalls. Both men’s faces haven’t seen a razor in the last couple of days or so. “May I help you?” I finally ask after taking them in quietly for a moment with the nagging questions of whether or not the two of them are capable of beating Cooter and holding a child at gun point.

“Uh yeah,” the man on my left responds as he readjusts his red hat and his own brown curly hair falls out before he replaces it back on his head. After a short moment a broad smile cross his whiskered face despite the sadness that lurks in his green-brown eyes. “You’re the famous Luke Duke!” he finally responds.

I eye him questionably before I quietly make the assumption that neither one of them seem the type to do such violent crimes as the gang has been doing in Hazzard. “I’m Luke Duke,” I finally admit, “but definitely not famous.”

He continues to smile crazily at me before he glances over at his friend who nervously looks around, refusing to eye me or the farm house. “Well then,” the one seeming to be in charge of the two finally says, “Bo surely fooled me then. By listening to Bo, you’d think you’re superman or something. It was always Luke this, Luke that.” He shakes his head while going quiet as if remembering something. “I’m LB Davenport and this here is Ethan McKleen. One of my employees at my garage in Capital City.” I slowly shake their hands. “I’m Cooter’s cousin, I use to visit Hazzard frequently while growing up, but had last been here a few years ago when Cooter won some sort of mechanical convention in Florida for a couple of weeks. He went to Florida, I came up to help him with the garage. Bo had said you were at war when I was down here. A Marine. That is very brave of you. So I guess in a way, you are a hero.”

I eye him for a moment as all that he said slowly registers within me before I slowly open the door wider for them. “Thanks. Why don’t you two come in out of the wind,” I finally say and they both nod in appreciation before walking into the kitchen, “You want some coffee? We still have some warm from breakfast.”

“No thanks,” LB shakes his head as he eyes Jesse and then me, “sorry for our interruption here. Ethan came to the garage last night to show me the newspaper article on what had happened to Cooter so I figured we’d come down to pay him a visit and perhaps reopen his garage.”

“The garage is closed under investigation by the feds. They got into town yesterday after the bank robbery,” I slowly respond as I go back to taking them all in.

LB nods as they stand by the counter by the door, Ethan still unsure of what to do or say. “I figured as much,” LB slowly responds as he loops his fingers around the straps of his torn overalls, “so I kinda thought that I could run it from the shack Cooter called a home or from his parents’ old house. That is if no one is renting it at the moment.”

“The house has been empty for several months now,”Jesse slowly speaks up to bring everyone’s attention onto him, “ever since Barb and her family moved out to help higher her children’s education, Cooter’s been having one problem or another leasing the house out to anyone.”

Silence begins to make it’s way into the kitchen for a short moment before Daisy walks in saying, “Of course it’s not too late for breakfast.” Kristy shortly follows her with Shay in her arms and Jamie holding tightly onto her empty hand. “Oh we got company. Hi LB,” Daisy smiles at them as steps back and Kristy slowly leads her kids behind us and to the end of the table where she stops diagonally away from LB and they both eye each other momentarily. After a moment, she bends over to help Jamie in a chair while Daisy begins to help get cereal and juice out for the kids.

“Hey Daisy,” LB slowly responds, looking away from Kristy. After a moment his attention returns to us before he says, “That could work. The house has a decent sized garage if I remember right. Which I think I do,” he offers a nervous smile, “but before doing so, I’d like to go visit Cooter. I really don’t know where the hospital is at, so I figured I’d stop at a place I knew where it was at and perhaps get help.”

“You’re always welcome here, LB,” Jesse smiles at Cooter’s cousin, “Bo will be excited to see you back in town. Wherever he is at.”

There is silent in the crowded kitchen for a moment as everyone’s attention is drawn onto Kristy and her kids as they begin to eat their cereal and juice. Shay’s cereal is left dry and cut up in a plastic bowl while Jamie has milk in hers and a sippee cup. “Mommy,” Jamie says after she looks up to find everyone looking at her. As Kristy looks away from Shay and onto her, she points at LB and Ethan before asking, “who are those strange men? Are they policemen?”

“Don’t point sweetie, it’s not nice,” Kristy whispers at the table, “no, I don’t think they are policemen. I think they’re friends of Cooter’s.”

“Oh,” Jamie silently says before waving at them and returns to her bowl of cereal.

A small nervous laughter spreads across the room before silence falls back within the room. “I could help take you or show you to the hospital,” Daisy finally speaks up, “I’d have to leave you there, because I have to run into town for a couple of errands, but could return to help you go wherever you need to go from there, after I am done.”

“That’d be great, Daisy. If you don’t mind, that is,” LB responds. Daisy nods at him before she quickly walks back out of the kitchen. LB slowly  looks back at Jesse, “you mind if Ethan leaves his truck here?”

“That’s fine,” Jesse dryly responds as he returns to flattening out the table cloth, returning to his thoughts he had before the knock had interrupted our conversation. Daisy quickly returns with her black suede coat that she had gotten from Christmas and her hand bag with her keys and money. “Daisy,” Jesse slowly looks up at her and she stops a foot away from where he sits, “you know where Bo is? I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

She eyes Jesse with concern before leaning over to give him a hug. “He’ll be ok, Jesse. He’s just having a hard time adjusting to the change and all that’s going on. Give him time,” she stands back up and Jesse nods slowly.

“That’s not what I had asked, though,” he smartly retorts.

“I know,” she sighs as she takes a step back, her own worry crosses her face, “I saw him leave out the back door shortly after breakfast as you two went out the front to feed the animals. I was doing dishes so I didn’t see where he was going, but I assumed since he didn’t take The General that he went to the barn.”

“Thanks,” Jesse slowly responds as Jesse joins LB and Ethan at the door, “It was nice seeing you again LB, nice meeting you, Ethan.”

We watch as they slowly leave the kitchen and out into the morning’s chilly day and after a brief silent moment we listen into a couple of vehicles starting up and driving away. “Never knew Cooter had a cousin,” I finally state as I stand up, “yet he said he was here several times while growing up.”

Jesse nods. “Never got that either the last time he was in Hazzard. He’s nice though. A lot like Cooter,” Jesse slowly responds, “but in his own way. He’s the only one that I know of that Bo accepted right away with trust and respect and without questions and concerns.”

“Really?” I question in disbelief in knowledge of how Bo has hard time adjusting to change as Daisy had just said and how it takes him a long time to really trust and feel comfortable around new people.

“Yeah. Cooter left and a day later LB showed up after getting help at his garage, leaving Bo in charge of the garage for the day,” Jesse responds as he stiffly rises and walks over to give Jamie a hug and tickles her momentarily to get a giggle and squeal from the little girl. Walking to the sink he continues, “Bo was excited to see Cooter return and sad to see LB leave when the time came. Though if I remember right, LB and Cooter got in some fight that forced LB to leave a little sooner than planned. LB was to help Cooter with the garage with inventory when he returned from his trip, but Bo ended up doing it for him due to the fight.”

“They get in time out?” Jamie asks from the table while eyeing us with intuitive green eyes, “For fighting.”

We laugh for a moment before Jesse responds, “I don’t think they had to sit in time out for their fighting, but they should have. Huh? Perhaps that’d cool ‘em down a bit so they could leave on good terms with one another.”

“Huh, huh. At my old school, when there was a fight, they had to sit down for a couple of minutes to think about it,” she nods as she takes a bite of cereal before she goes silent and she looks at her mom. “Daddy use to hit mommy when they fought.”

Our attention turns to Kristy who silently pats Jamie on the shoulder before giving her a kiss on the forehead. “That was a while ago, sweetie,” she finally responds before looking ashamedly up at us, “She doesn’t forget very easily. Be easier on herself sometimes if she would.”

Jesse nods in agreement before he walks over to Jamie to kneel down to her level and takes her by the hands. “You know what, Jamie?” he questions and Jamie eyes him with tearful eyes before shaking her head, “You, Shay, and your mommy are all safe now. No one in Hazzard would ever allow someone like that to hurt any of you. It’s all over now.”

“Really?” she questions with a hint of disbelief.

“Yes, really,” Jesse responds and Jamie falls out of her chair to hug tightly onto him and Jesse hugs her tightly back, “you are all safe in Hazzard. You’ll make new friends. . .you’ll love Hazzard.”

“Mommy says when she gets a job, that she’ll start looking for a school for Shay and I,” she says sitting back down in her chair, the fear and sadness slowly leaving her eyes for a look of excitement, “it’ll be the first time for Shay-Shay to go to school. Not for me though. I went to one in Knoxville for a while and one in Atlanta before we ran away from daddy. I had more friends in Knoxville, though.”

“And you’ll get to know more here in Hazzard too,” Jesse reassures her, trying to keep the subject away from Atlanta and her dad, “and so will Shay.” With that he reaches across to ruffle up Shay’s bright blond curly hair.

“Thank-you,” Kristy smiles back at Jesse from behind Shay as Shay giggles before offering Jesse a cut up Cheerio before eating it himself.

“Not a problem. I’m sorry to hear that some jerk would treat you and them that way. You’d feel pressured to move to Hazzard in fear. No one should have to live with that,” Jesse responds, anger in his voice towards her ex-husband, “I congratulate you on your bravery to walk out on a scumbag like that. That took a lot of courage on your part.”

She nods stiffly. “Probably would never have done so if it wasn’t for Jamie,” she slowly responds, “and Shay.”

An awkward silence makes it’s way into the kitchen as I return to looking out the window, my mind falling back upon first meeting Kristy and Bo’s reaction. Of Garrett in jail for beating Cooter and yet a suspect in spite of the recent bank robbery of the gang with him in jail, of Rosco’s suspicions of it being Garrett’s gang. “You all have been through a lot. Glad that you found your way to Hazzard,” Jesse pauses, “You are as safe as you can be in Hazzard, plenty of people here that would be more than glad to rub his nose in the dirt for you. To protect you and anyone else in danger…in spite all that’s going on.”

“Thanks,” Kristy says from the table as my attention goes to the barn and what I had said to Jesse earlier about taking a ride.

“I’m going to go find Bo,” I finally turn around, “see if he wants to go for that ride I was talking about.”

Jesse looks at me sternly once more as he goes to argue before nodding instead while the fear and worry returns to his crystal eyes.

***KRISTY DUKE***

Silence builds within the kitchen as Jesse watches Luke silently walk out of the kitchen and into the living room in his search for Bo who has been reluctant to even look at my kids or me. Taking a deep breath, I slowly attempt to push the hard feelings away and remind myself of the hard time he is going through, of Daisy’s explanation behind his refusing to accept us. Easier for me to accept than, Jamie. Sighing heavily, I glance at Jesse who stands over the sink, looking out through the window and worry etched across his face. “Mommy,” Jamie interrupts the silence and I look over at her as she stands up, “I’m done.” I nod as she walks over to the sink where Jesse turns and takes her stuff from her.

“Thank-you,” she says before she quickly walks out of the room in her own search for something to play with and I slowly stand up with Shay’s bowl and his bottle of water I had given him.

“I can wash them, Jesse,” I say as I reach where he stands with water running in the sink, “it was my mess.”

“Nah, that’s ok,” he forces a smile at me, “it’ll give me something to do.” He gently takes the dishes away from my free hand to place them in the sudsy water as he directs the water into the empty half of the sink. For a moment I am thrown into the past, of visiting my dad in Hazzard and playing at the farm, playing with Daisy, and helping Jesse feed the animals and other farm chores.

After a brief moment silence, Jamie’s pattering feet breaks the silence as she runs into the kitchen, my black cell phone open in her right hand.  “Jay, no running inside.”

“Sorry,” she looks down and eyeing the phone in her hands, she smiles up at me, “Grandpa Thortan is on the phone, he says he wants to talk to you. It’s urgent. Whatever that means.”

“Thanks sweetie,” I smile down at her to take the small black phone from her hands and after whispering an apology to Kristy, I slowly walk into the living room for some silence. “William,” I finally say into the cell phone, “what’s so urgent?”

“Kristy,” he somberly says, sounding as if he’s attempting to hide his anger, “we need to talk. Privately.”

“Well OK,” is all I can think of to say as my mind begins to spin quickly around all the reasons why William could be so upset, “what’s the matter, William?”

“Meet me at my hotel room as soon as possible,” is his response, “I’m in room number eight. The last one.”

With that he quickly hangs up the phone and the phone goes silent before I close the flap to find Jamie standing in front of me and Shay begins to struggle against my hold to be set down. Setting him down, I watch him slowly crawling towards Jamie. “What does urgent mean, mommy?” Jamie asks, “Why does grandpa sound so upset for?”

I eye her quietly for a moment as surprise grows within me at how intuitive Jamie is for her young age. William would have talked childishly to her, attempting to be excited and happy as he always does with the kids and yet she picked up that something was wrong. That he was upset. “Urgent means to act quickly and fast. Something that’s important and needs attention right away,” I slowly respond, “and grandpa wouldn’t say why he was upset. He just says he wants me to meet him right away.”

“Is he mad at Uncle Garrett?” she asks from sitting on the floor with Shay, “For being in jail?”

I silently nod as I recall William’s explanation to her why he is in Hazzard, saying he came to Hazzard to be with them, to give them hugs and kisses, but also to help Uncle Garrett out of jail. “I don’t know. I have to go see him to find out why,” I say as Jesse walks into the room and I slowly stand up to meet him. “Jesse,” I slowly respond before fidgeting with my sweater for a moment, “I hate to ask you this…for a favor. After all your hospitality and all that you’ve done for me and the kids -“

”I’ll be glad to watch your kids, Kris,” he smiles at me as he interrupts me, “if that is w hat you were going to ask. I’d be glad to do anything for you.”

“Thank-you so much, Jesse. William wants me to meet him and I don’t think it’d be best for them to come along,” I try to explain myself.

“Don’t worry about it. I love your kids,” he smiles at me before bending down to pick up Shay from the ground before looking back at me, “we’ll be just fine, won’t we Shay?”

“Ma,” he says for a response.

“Thanks again, Jesse. Bye Shay,” I smile at him before Jamie runs and gives me a hug, “bye Jamie, you be good. Be a good helper to Jesse around the house and with Shay there.”

Jamie nods at me, her green eyes sparkling up with me with innocents and quiet questions before she steps away to pick up her beloved doll from the couch. “We’ll be fine, Kristy. Take all the time you need, we’ll have fun,” Jesse smiles genuinely at me.

***BO DUKE***

“No!” I hear myself yell as I am abruptly pulled out of another nightmare plagued by pictures of Cooter covered in his own blood and the blood stained floor of the bank. Pain engulfs my lungs as I grasp forcefully for air and as I go for my inhaler that lies within my pant pocket, I feel a gentle pressure upon my left shoulder, of what had pulled me out of sleep. Taking forceful and painful breaths, I slowly glance up to find Luke’s dark shadow standing over me to my left and he forces a small smile at me before he slowly raises his hand off of my shoulder to sit down besides me.

“Where’s your inhaler?” he asks as I had quickly left the thought of seeking help from medical inhaler, too proud to seek help once more in front of Luke. “C’mon buddy. You sound horrible.”

‘I feel horrible,’ I silently think to myself as I eye him momentarily before I shove my right hand into my pocket to fish out my red cased inhaler. Feeling his eyes on me, I bring the mouth piece into my mouth to take a deep breath of medicine before taking five painful breaths before I follow the same process three other times; four puffs, twenty breaths. Slight relief disperses through my lungs and the pain slowly falters into a lesser pain and making it easier to breathe.

“You OK?” Luke asks full of concern as a protective arm reaches across my shoulders, “How you feel?”

“I’ll be,” I grasp, still feeling the pain in my lungs as I breathe, “fine.”

His shadow silently nods as he looks out through the loft’s open door and at the old farm house that stands several feet away from the barn. The light from the kitchen looms through the gloomy morning to show Jesse at the kitchen sink, either doing dishes or just looking outside. “I hope so,” Luke finally says, disbelief in his voice, “Jesse’s worried about your breathing, about how you’re dealing with everything.” he pauses momentarily. “I am too. I think Jesse should call Applebee -“

”No!” I yell at him as I hug my knees in attempt to block out the chilly wind, “I’m fine.”

Luke goes silent once again. “You don’t want to spend another night in the hospital due to another attack your inhaler can’t handle. You just used your inhaler and you still sound horrible. You sound better, not by much though.”

I nod, yet refusing to admit to the truth aloud, to let him know how right he is. “I’ll be fine,” I say again, in attempt to convince myself just as much as him. “I just want it all to go away.”

“Me too, buddy. Me too,” he says from besides me, his attention on me now, “which is why I came here to find you. You want to go for a little ride, get away for a little while?”

“A ride, where?” I ask as exhaustion continues to build within me despite the little nap I just had.

“Through Hazzard, look for anything amiss,” Luke pauses for a long moment, “if we do, we’ll call it into the FBI. That’s all…no private action from us. There’s too much of them and too many guns against the two of us.”

I watch Jesse through the closed window as he stands at the sink still through the light as I am reminded of the worry he had expressed this morning at breakfast. “Just a ride to look around,” I finally says, “to do nothing.”

“Pretty much. But at least we’ll be getting out,” Luke pauses, “and doing something other than just sitting around. I don’t know about you, but it’s driving me crazy.”

I nod silently in agreement as my mind falls back upon the nightmare I had, of walking in and find Cooter on the stretcher, of the death that seemed to have taken toll over him. In my nightmares, he always dies at the scene, angry and resentful that we didn’t do anything to help him. “OK,” I silently respond, “let’s go.”

Through the darkness, Luke nods while he stands up before he helps me stand up within the small loft. “You want to go in and grab something to eat or drink before we leave?” Luke asks as we walk to the old ladder.

“I’m not hungry,” I stubbornly reply as I begin to follow him down, “or thirsty.”

“You sure, buddy? You haven’t eaten anything for a couple of days now,” he says, worry thick in his voice, “you’ve got to be hungry for something. We could grab a couple of crackers and -“

”I’m fine, Luke. I’m not hungry,” I snap angrily at him to force the pain in my lungs to spark up once again.

“Whoa there, Bo,” Luke raises his hands in surrender, “take it easy. Don’t be gettin’ all upset over a question, it’ll make your asthma more worse than what it has to be.”

I nod quietly at him as another hand reaches my shoulder and we quietly walk to The General that’s parked in front of the porch where Luke quickly leaves me to walk over to the driver’s door. “I guess I’ll ride shot gun,” I say in a half whisper as I climb into the passenger seat, slightly upset at not being able to drive.

***KRISTY DUKE***

“Kristy,” William forces a smile at me as he opens the door before motioning me to walk in. I slowly walk in to eye the old and ran down room to send a wave of irony through me. Irony at the fact of the sort of hotels he’s use to staying while he’s away from home, of the riches he holds at home, and now to be forced to spend the night here and to build his offices here. “Definitely not the Ritz by any account, now is it?  This small, damp, piece of junk of a hotel room is enough for me to run home without looking back, by itself. It gives me the heebies…especially to think that you and the kids are planning to live in a town such as this. I don’t see what you see here or what your mother had once saw before she came to her senses. . .of course she had a little help from me to come to her senses.”

“Yeah,” I grunt before defiantly thinking ‘A little help from you and your dirty money to run off on her husband with her child in tow.’ Sighing heavily I force the negative thoughts away, negative thoughts that I had towards him for the first few years my mother had been married to him. As I missed my family in Hazzard and my real father that had seemingly disappeared into no where at the time.  “It’s a lot calmer and peaceful than the city, William. I want my kids to be able to grow up in a place where it’s safe and where they don’t have to worry about thugs around the corner…as you do in the city. I don’t want them growing up and close to the wrong type of friends, if you know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you don’t want them hanging out with someone like Garrett,” he quickly throws back at me, “which is what I called you about. I have done it, I’m done with that lousy brother of yours. He can rot in jail the rest of his life, for all I care…which he will be if that mechanic dies.”

“He didn’t beat that mechanic, William,” I say exasperated, “I was there when he went in to pay for the gas. . .where he found the mechanic beaten. He went in to pay for the gas and came out a minute or two later to get me. There is no way that he could have done that in that little of time. He didn’t do it, William!”

He eyes me with cold blue eyes as he runs his hand through his dark gray beard and mustache before running his hand through his graying black hair. “Well he sure has fooled me and everyone else!” he yells before he starts to pace back and forth, “And that isn’t according to what his friend has told the FBI yesterday. . .talking about the FBI, your brother don’t listen worth anything. I tell him not to say anything to them, what he do? He goes and opens his big mouth! I told him I can’t help him none if he won’t listen to me.”

“Look, calm down William,” I sigh heavily as my thoughts fall upon my brother and how he can be or is at times, “I’ll go across the street and talk to him. I’ll tell him to listen to you,” I pause as I look questionably at him, “What are you talking about? About his friend telling the FBI? He knows no one in Hazzard, but me and the kids. No one.”

He shrugs. “Maybe he took the friend along from Knoxville, he seems to have a gang load of punk friends in Knoxville,” he eyes me with angry eyes, “the FBI says the friend told them that Garrett didn’t like what Cooter gave him as a price for the gas. So when Cooter wouldn’t negotiate the price or lower it, he got mad and started beating him. His friend joined in to help Garrett.”

“He’s a liar. The so-called friend,” I immediately respond, “Garrett was forced to move to Hazzard to get away from his friends. . .there was no friend in his car or on his bike or anywhere else with him or us. It was just him, me, and the kids. That’s all. Once again, William,” I point a finger at him, “Garrett didn’t beat that mechanic -“

”The mechanic’s name is Cooter, Kristy,” he interrupts me, “he has a name other than mechanic. That’s his profession, just like yours was a nurse in Atlanta.”

“Do you treat all your clients like this, William? You defend the dirtiest of all criminals with full knowledge of their guilt before you even agree to go along with it, yet you take them on. Why? The money. Heck, you even defended that child killer last year and won! You were real proud of yourself, weren’t you?” I shake my head in anger, “You let dirty scum like that out of jail where they deserve to be, just for the money…that’s all it is for you isn’t it?” I yell at him before I take a step closer to him, “Now that I call you to Hazzard to help my brother -“

”You’re half brother,” he quickly corrects me.

“My brother,” I stare defiantly at him,” to help my brother out of jail…to help me, and just like that you are ready to pull the plug and call it quits. Why? Just because he talked? Because he didn’t listen? How many of your other clients listen to you one hundred percent? Does what you tell them to do? I am willing to bet that the majority of them don’t. Yet when I ask you for help, you only give him partial support.” I shake my head at him, “Why is it? Is it because he’s Jeremiah’s son? Your wife’s ex-husband’s son to his wife. If not do it for him, do it for me. I know he’s not a saint, William,” I sigh and pause dramatically to take a step back and out of his face, “he’s been in jail before, he’s gotten kicked out of the Army, he was even running away from serious charges in Knoxville as he came to Hazzard. Charges for crimes he actually had done…but he didn’t beat that mechanic. He found him like that.”

He eyes me thoughtfully before smirking. “That’s quite the speech there, Kristy…very impressive if I do say so myself,” he shakes his head before growing serious, “and for your satisfaction, I’ll admit to letting some pretty awful scum bags out of jail for an extra dollar, on taking on some horrible men as that child killer…but that’s what I do, Kristy. I didn’t earn my reputation I have now as being a choosey lawyer, but for taking on the hard cases and winning. By doing my job,” he pauses heavily as he looks out the window for a moment and looks back at me, “and no, most of them don’t listen to me a hundred percent of the time. But the one thing I am not doing is treating your brother differently just because he’s Jeremiah’s son…he’s another client, a pro bono case, maybe, but a client all the same. To me, their just names and faces, files, and facts. The last thing I allow to happen on my job, is to let things get to me, to get personal. I’d never be able to live with myself if I let it all in like that.”

“Well,” I pause, “if Garrett is just another client, then why are you willing to give up on him? You’ve faced harder criminals and charges than his before…and won. Criminals that had done what they were charged with and won…Garrett didn’t do it, William. He didn’t have time to do it.”

“It don’t matter if he did do it or not anymore, Kristy,” he shakes his head at me, exhaustion drains down his face, “not after what he did last night. He sealed his fate last night.”

“Last night?” I question as dread quickly rises within me, “What he do last night?”

“He proved himself worthwhile as being their prime suspect of Cooter’s beating, is all,” he sarcastically says, “if the FBI and the local law wasn’t convinced enough that it was him before, they are now.”

I roll my eyes at him. “William,” I sigh heavily, “get to the point. What did Garrett do?”

“You know that so-called friend that ratted him out?” he questions, “The local sheriff and deputy placed him in the cell next to Garrett. I guess he kept talking to Garrett as if he knew him, Garrett got upset, the other guy started mimicking him,” he pauses as he begins to pace the floor again, “so Garrett grabbed the guy by the coat and repeatedly banged the other guy’s head against the cell. Broke the guy’s head open, bled all over the place, and left him un-conscience. Guess Garrett gave him fifteen stitches in the forehead.”

I stare at him as the dread grows rapidly within me into anger towards Garrett for doing as William had said. “Please say this is some sort of sick joke, William,” he slowly shakes his head no at me as my thoughts fall onto Jamie. Of how disappointed and disheartened she will be if Garrett is found guilty and sent away, of how much she looks up to him. “What now, then?”

“That is up to you and him, my dear,” he shrugs at me, “I’m packing up and going back to Atlanta first chance I get. I’m done with this dump,” he motions around the room, “done with that stupid brother of yours, and done with this hick town. This hick town is spooky if you ask me.”

I shake my head at him. “Forget Hazzard and this hotel. What about Garrett?” I ask as I see Garrett’s dim future float in my head, of a life behind bars due to the beating he didn’t do. “He didn’t do this, William.”

“You can say that as many times you like, Kristy, but no one is going to believe you…Garrett probably won’t even believe you any more,” he says placing a hand on my shoulder that I quickly shove away, “I’m sorry Kristy…I’m sorry to you, not your brother. I just can’t take this case any more. I told Garrett I quit right after Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills gave me the news over the phone…I had a little talk with him. You know what?” he pauses, “He don’t care. He looked me in the eyes and told me to enjoy my stupid life with my ugly wife…that’s what he called your mother. Ugly.”

“He’s upset, William,” I shrug it off, “that’s all it is. He’s upset at these incorrect charges and he’s upset at you being the quitter that you are being.”

“I’m not a quitter, Kristy. Even if that’s what it seems to be,” he sighs heavily while sitting on the bed, “I’m not a loser…I don’t lose. I can’t lose. If I go forward in this case,” he shrugs silently for a moment, looking at me apologetically, “I would lose. All I’ve got is his and your word. Your word may be worth a little bit, but his? Come on Kristy. Look at his background, look and listen to his attitude, what his new aquatinted friend is saying, and then you add last night’s event. No one will believe Garrett’s innocence after last night…as I said, he sealed his fate last night pretty damn tight.”

“Damn it,” I say heavily as I walk over to his window to look out across the street at the jail while wondering how it came to this. He was to come to Hazzard to get out of the trouble he created, to leave his friends behind, and to help protect my children. Yet now he lies in jail for a crime he didn’t commit and with little way to prove that this time he didn’t do it. “Well, William. Thanks for trying,” I turn my back on him to walk to the closed door. I slowly turn to him before saying, “You may be quitting on him, but I’m not. He may be acting stupidly and making it more difficult, but he didn’t beat Cooter, he found Cooter like that. I think Cooter deserves the truth to be known, for the true attacker to be arrested and not just some guy who just happens to be capable of doing such a thing.”

“Cooter deserves? Just a moment ago, he was just a mechanic, now you’re worrying what Cooter deserves,” he comments from the bed, “I don’t know what you are planning to do, Kristy, but I wish you and Garrett the best of luck. You’ll need it. You’re faced with the very best that Atlanta has to offer with the best agents the FBI has on their side. Another thing,” he pauses, “that kid that the gang is using in their hold up? He’s Agent Mueller’s youngest son. Max kidnaped the kid after Mueller shot his son in self defense when the FBI went in on their stake out a couple of months ago. Which means the FBI are angrier than ever right now…which isn’t good news for Garrett.”

I look at him for a long moment as the last bit of news begins to haunt me as my mind falls back onto previous articles I had read about the FBI’s son being kidnaped, of the dangerous gang that’s been hitting banks, killing people while holding the kid at gun point. “You’re saying that gang is here in Hazzard?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s suspected to be so after the bank robbery here in town the other day. Same MO. Witnesses said the main guy was holding a kid hostage,” he pauses, “didn’t you hear about it?”

I shrug. “I guess I heard parts and pieces. I heard about the bank robbery,” I sigh heavily, “one of Bo’s friends was the one that got shot in the shoulder.”

“That’s the one. Their pretty sure it’s them,” he responds before putting a hand out, “but before you go with a defense on Garrett’s behalf…yeah it could have been them that done the mechanic. But before you go and say anything about them, you’ve got to prove that Garrett’s not part of that gang…or that he has nothing to do with that gang.”

“Garrett’s gang of friends is from Knoxville,” I state, “from what I hear, these guys are from Atlanta for the most part.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but gangs can intertwine if friendly enough to do so. Have extensions out of town maybe,” he responds, “it could be anything like that.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, OK,” I finally say before opening the door, “I’m walking across the street to have a word or two with Garrett and then I’ve got to get back. Daisy’s watching Jamie and Shay right now.”

“Take care. Always know you have a home waiting for you in Atlanta,” William replies from the room.

“I’ll be fine in Hazzard, thanks though,” I wave at him before I exit into the smelly and old hall way before walking back out into the gloomy day. Walking down to the corner and across the street to the sheriff’s station, my mind continues to fly around all that was said by William and what it means for Garrett.

After a moment of walking up the steps, I walk into the hall way of the court house and into the heated hall way to walk past several doors before reaching one that says sheriff’s station. Taking a deep breath, I slowly walk in before eyeing the bulletin board of criminal posters and other information. A black and white photo of Max hangs on the side while below lies a print out paper with hand writing in a red thick marker describing a job opening as Commissioner J.D. Hogg’s and Sheriff Coltrane’s secretary. “May I help you, ma’am?” a nervous male voice comes from besides me and when I look up I find the deputy smiling at me, “You interested in the job?”

“Looks interesting,” I force a smile at him, “and rewarding I guess. Seeing justice being served and all. Well,” I pause, “I guess when all this is over with, with my brother and all, I’ll be interested in applying. That is if it’s still open and available.”

“Oh. You’re Garrett’s sister,” he says, his smile fading.

“Regretfully so,” I nod at him, “I’m here to pay visit to him and have a couple of words with him. I know saying this to you, you’ll laugh and won’t believe me. You probably have heard it all by now.”

“I won’t laugh, ma’am,” he says seriously as the sheriff’s door flies open and several men in suits walk out and the room is instantly busy with lawmen.

Looking at the deputy, I shrug and say, “He didn’t do that horrible thing to Cooter, even if he proved himself as capable of doing so last night. He’s got a temper and you get it riled, he’ll strike before thinking.”

He nods understandably at me while eyeing me with sympathetic blue eyes. “Well, that’s what the law is meant for, ma’am. To prove one’s innocence or guilty,” he pauses, “one’s not guilty until proven guilty. No matter what it seems to be at first.”

“Thanks for listening, deputy,” I smile at him, “I better let you get back to work so you don’t get in trouble.”

“No trouble at all ma’am,” he responds before he begins to lead me to the stairs before someone behind us calls his name. “He’s right down there…I don’t know if we can set up a room for y’all after last night and all.”

“We can talk downstairs just fine,” I nod before he turns and walks back towards the sheriff and I begin to walk downstairs. After a moment, I am standing in front of his cot where he lies on his back upon the cot, asleep.

Abruptly a whistle interrupts the silent basement and I look up to find the other prisoner at the door, eyeing me with his half open right eye. Chills rush up and down my spine at the sight of his badly bruised, swollen, and cut up face and at the sight of the white bandage that is wrapped around his forehead. Despite the bandage and cotton applied to his forehead, a dark red blood stain shows darkly upon the outside of the bandage. “Look at you,” he whistles at me again, “ain’t you the prettiest thing alive.”

“You wish,” I snarl at him as I am reminded of the man claiming to be Garrett’s friend, “you pathetic liar. Why would you lie about being Garrett’s friend for?”

“Liar? Me?” he takes on a hurtful look as he walks into the corner of his cell to get closer to me and I quickly step back, “I don’t lie, honey. Me and Garrett there go way back. Whether or not he wants to admit it…I was only helping him beat that hick mechanic.”

“Really? You know what’s so funny about your story?” I ask and he shrugs before hissing in pain, “Is that I was just outside when he went in to pay for the gas. You were no where in sight…nor were you inside either. He walked in and found the mechanic like that…I did CPR on him while Garrett got help. So yeah,” I pause, “I’m calling you a liar. The only thing you could be telling the truth about, is that you did that violent and horrible thing to Cooter. But not with Garrett.”

“Ain’t that sweet, huh, honey?” he asks smiling at me, “You’ll have to prove your story first. After last night, no one is going to believe you.”

“Well by hearing you,” I smirk at him, “you deserved what you got. He did all that to you?”

“This?” he question, “No, just the forehead. I got in a fight a couple of days ago and lost pitifully bad. Very ashamed of myself,” he shakes his head painfully, “hey, you his girlfriend? Wife?”

“Like I’d tell a scum bag like you,” I say back to him before Garrett lets out a grunt in his sleep before he abruptly sits up in bed, “bout time you wake up.”

“Kris,” he says eyeing the floor for a while before standing up to walk over to me, “he giving you a hard time?”

I eye him for a long moment, allowing silence to stir between us. “Don’t worry about him. I can take care of myself,” I slowly state, “William told me what you did last night. Says he’s done. He’s packing up and going back to Atlanta the first chance he has to go back. Has enough with Hazzard, you, and the run down hotel room.”

“Wimp,” Garrett says before he looks at me and sees how serious I am, “look Kristy, if you’ve come here looking for an apology,” he pauses, “you’ve come to the wrong place. The jerk got what he deserved and if given the chance, I’d do it the same. William and the FBI made it obvious that I proved myself as capable of doing that to that mechanic, but they had evidence of that by looking at my background. Didn’t they?”

I shrug silently as I attempt to fight back the rush of emotions that continues to run through me. “Yeah they did…they didn’t need for you to go show them personally,” I finally respond as I look back at the other guy’s bandage and back at Garrett, “you don’t know the harm you just did to yourself, Garrett. We don’t have money for another lawyer…William is the best defense lawyer in the south, he’s won cases that no one else could, won cases that had hard evidence saying the criminal had done what they were accused of.” I shake my head in disbelief, “You had him as your lawyer, Garrett…on your side. You won’t get another defense lawyer as good as him…even if we did have money for one. You blew it, Garrett, big time.”

He sighs as he backs away from the bars for a moment before coming back, his finger tracing his scar once more before he takes it away. “You don’t think I already know that? Because I do know,” he pauses, “but there’s little I can do about it now, is there?”

“I guess not,” I eye him for a long moment before looking away, “I just don’t know what else there is to do. I have no money for another lawyer, they’ve got plenty of evidence to put you away for a very long time, and I have Jamie at home asking me every night when you’ll be getting out.”

He shrugs at me once again, unsure what to say. “Tell her I’m sorry,” he says reluctantly, “I don’t know either,” he sighs, pausing heavily, “maybe that mechanic will wake up…point out his true attackers.”

“Only if you are lucky,” I throw back at him before looking at my watch, “damn, it’s noon already. Jesse’s probably wondering where I’m at,” I pause again before looking up at Garrett, “I’ve got to go, I left Daisy in tow with the kids. I’m sure she’s probably ready for a break right about now.”

“I’m sure he’s fine with the kids, Kris. You worry too much,” Garrett says, his cold eyes watching me, “but thanks for the visit. I’m sorry that I made you so upset, that I chased William off. He was my only opportunity to get out of this junk and I ruined it.”

“Perhaps not,” I force a smile at him, “I’ll be back when I get the chance.” I wave at him before I walk back upstairs to slowly make my way back to my truck that’s parked in front of the hotel.

***LUKE DUKE***

Silence slowly builds between us as the powerful engine hums loudly under the hood of The General as I redirect him to a sharp right onto another dirt road. My eyes continues to sweep across the dirt road to take in the hilly surroundings, the open pastures and fields, and the thick wooded areas in full attention of anything different than normal. So far in the past fifteen minutes, nothing different except the silence that builds between us. Bo’s normally talking about one thing or another, whether it is something that is bothering him, worrying him, or what he’s thinking about, a pretty girl, racing, cars, or music.  Today nothing except for his wheezy breathing as he struggles to breathe to remind me of Jesse’s concern this morning. His medicine doesn’t seem to even work anymore. I nod silently to myself as my thoughts fall onto finding him asleep in the barn when I had pulled him out of a bad dream, him yelling no and falling into an attack. Of him pulling his inhaler out and taking his medicine as he is prescribed to do only seemingly to help slightly if at all. His gasping had slowed and wasn’t as loud, though the pain was reflective in his baby blue eyes. If medicine don’t work, the only thing left is another visit to the hospital or perhaps a nebulizer of which he hates just as much as the hospital. At least of which I learned growing up with him.

“You want to talk about it?” I finally ask to break the silence and in hope of directing my thoughts away from his asthma, “About anything?”

Bo slowly looks away from his open window. “Not really,” he shrugs before building the wall he has seemed to build around himself, “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Stop lying to me…to us, Bo. We all know differently,” I pause for a moment, “it may help to talk about it, storing it all within yourself isn’t healthy or good for you. After awhile it all is going to explode in one way or another. So why not let it all out and get it over with? It may help.”

For a long moment he is silent, as if thinking about it. “So you’ve said,” he finally responds, “but talking about it won’t make it disappear or to go away.”

“No, it won’t,” I nod as I come to a stop sign and quietly contemplate on which way to go. Turning left, I say, “but it will relieve the pressure within.” I once again go quiet as my mind goes blank on what to say to him that will help open him up. “Look, I won’t lie to you. I don’t know how you feel. I know what you are going through and how you must be feeling. But I don’t know what you are thinking or exactly how you feel…I can only imagine.

“I’ve seen plenty of men die violently, be beaten violently to death or near death. To see the blank look in their eyes, their wounds, and blood. I remember seeing it for the first time and just how shaken up I was. Or when I saw a close friend die painfully for the first time. I just,” I pause as my mind goes back to war, “I just wanted to die. But thought of home, of you, and knew I had to fight on. Things would get better. When my troop and I had been ambushed, when I had been wounded, and everyone else died…I couldn’t handle lying in that hospital knowing I was the only one left of my troop alive. Of the guilt I had felt, of the anger, and resentment. For a moment,” I go silent as I fight with the emotion entrapped within me, emotion that I had shoved back for so many years, “for a moment, I thought I’d go crazy. That I’d lose it. I dreamt of it for so long. I still do, it’s something that never leaves my mind. Then being forced to leave the Marines, go home…I should have felt glad and excited to be home. Yet I resented it for the longest time, lost myself by spending most my nights alone at The Boar’s Nest with a bottle of beer in hand. It didn’t help anything, other than to make you and Jesse worried about what I was doing.”

As I finish, he looks questionably at me for along moment and a hint of shock enters his eyes, shock that I revealed something so private to me, to him. Shock that I allowed my emotions to show, when I always worked hard not to allow them to show. “I’m sorry,” he finally says, “you went through that.”

I nod as I attempt to block out the vivid scenes in my head. “One night, Cooter confronted me at the Boar’s Nest. Made a scene of being upset about how I’ve been acting, what I’ve been putting my family through…for that fight I started with you,” I pause momentarily as my mind goes back to that night, at seeing the anger flare in Cooter’s crazed brown eyes as he grabbed my arm and forced me to sit in a corner table. Of his stubbornness and determination to help a lonely and miserable friend, even if the friend didn’t want the help in his attempt to help the rest of my family as well. “He made me sit down and talk to him, about what was going on in here,” I point to my head, “I didn’t have to go into every detail of war or what I went through, but what I was going through emotionally. And you know what?” I pause for a short moment before he reluctantly looks at me, “It helped.”

He eyes me silently for a short moment before his attention falls back out through his closed window and at the open pasture that lies a few feet away through his window. “I’m glad it helped,” he stiffly responds, his breathing still wheezy from his attack that he had in the barn. Looking back at me he asks, “Where we going?”

I force a smile at him before coming to a halt at another stop sign and once again go through the options. “We could go for the caves,” I slowly suggest, “or perhaps the ol’ swamp. No one would think of lookin’ there. Or we could go home or turn around. What you think?”

Bo eyes me for a short moment with emotion-filled blue eyes before he silently looks at the streets that surrounds us, the options that are now open to us. “Well the swamp holds more hiding ground than the caves,” he finally speaks up, “with abandoned houses and buildings. A way out of the wind and hardly anyone goes there any more.”

“The swamp it is,” I slowly respond as I press the accelerator down to go straight.