Swamp Molly was the transition episode, from Georgia winter to eternal California summer. Starting here, the episodes got very bright (in a visual sense) and lost their dark tone. This vignette addresses the sort of startling change in look/feel. (And as a side benefit, makes Luke get honest with himself.)
There's a moment where it all stands still, where honesty is more important than that poison-ivy itch of an irritation that's been chasing him around for days. Just the briefest smattering of seconds when Bo's presence is something other than the constant source of annoyance that it's been lately.
The blurred movement goes back to somewhere in advance of that old, red old pickup sidling up their lane and Swamp Molly distracting her way into the path of Jesse's more lucid thoughts. Even before the outhouse gets distributed around the larger portion of the Duke property, time shuttles by all too fast, leaving behind those fools that are too slow to grab onto whatever manner of flotsam they can find. Daisy goes missing in the holes of time somewhere, mostly. Seems like every now and then current's backwash pops her up for a few convenient minutes, only to submerge her until she's needed again.
For all that time's already out of control, Molly's arrival sends it marching into double-time, all intelligence lost to the dizzying speed with which they're roped into a government-pact forbidden moonshine run. This could be fun of the customary variety, a chance to stretch out recently atrophied muscle in hopes that there's been no loss of mobility in the meantime.
When time slams them into their respective dashboards with a jarring halt, there's nothing but him and Bo and a looming prison sentence. In that pause, the crevice between what has been and what's about to be, the warm body next to him is welcome. The sense that it's his fault Bo's going to prison is not wanted, so he shoves it aside in favor of the vastly more selfish, I want him with me.
Daisy burbles up from one of time's frothing eddies and saves their necks, or merely delays their doom. Hardly matters which way it's going to end up, for now they're flying free and doing their damnedest to stay that way. Swaying forward at a breakneck speed and Bo's back to being that same snotty pest he's been since he learned how to talk. Reminding Luke in the voice of a prepubescent brat that they're on the run, as if they've stood still for more than a minute today.
Time sucks Daisy away again, and deposits the boys in front of Molly. A renegotiation of terms is thwarted by the fact that Jesse's lost in his own time-hole, stuffed somewhere in the swamp by Molly. It's a damned good thing he brought his checkerboard, considering it could be forever before he's returned to the farm that he loves so much. The boys drift back toward the kind of danger that could freeze time for five years to life.
A cross-current interrupts their already turbulent course, and Jesse pops out alive and well. Time cuts them another moment of slack when Bo comes to stand beside him as they have to explain exactly how many ways they've broken probation, and the rising tide that threatens to tear the family apart. Unless Jesse can fix things, and he seems willing. Quick, he suggests, as if speed hasn't been their nemesis for the better part of two days, sink the evidence in the quicksand.
Which is a fine idea, one that Luke approves of, right up until the sucking undercurrent wants to claim Bo, too. Time stops the second Bo disappears below the surface.
The pact-making begins right then and stretches on toward forever. About how Luke'll go to prison for the rest of his natural-born life, so long as Bo gets to live out the rest of his. And there's the one where he'll never say another snide word to his cousin, if only Bo can drag his way back out to hear the nice things he's going to tell him instead. And somewhere when the bubbles surface and there's still no Bo, he gets real honest with himself and the Lord above. About loving Bo, and exactly how much he does, and in all the crazy ways…
And then time's back to take them all for another spin as Bo's yellow head pops out of the rippled blue, followed by that stupid grin that Luke's hated all week. Quacking giggle, and Bo's swimming that freestyle stroke Luke never did manage to master. Barely has to get his feet wet to catch Bo's hand and pull him back to where the ground is solid and promises have to be kept. Lets Bo drape a wet arm across his shoulders and manages not to point out how just because Bo's a drowned rat doesn't mean Luke wants to be, too.
From that moment on, time can do its own double-damned thing, and Luke's not going to pay it any mind. It's not going to trick him into making fool mistakes like almost losing Bo.
Jesse's given them a week to get a new outhouse built, and an ultimatum to start right now. They're rustling around the barn for enough wood to bother starting with when Luke grabs Bo in a half nelson and pushes him against the wall.
"Wanna wrassle?" he offers, low and quiet into Bo's ear. Gets a giggle in response, followed by a little bump and grind – in the name of getting free, of course.
"I'm gonna whip your tail, Luke," Bo promises. Yeah, well. They'll cross that bridge when they come to it. For now Luke just holds Bo's warmth close to him and reckons the first stumbling steps to that bridge begin with a kiss. Turns into wrestling with tongues, and Luke marvels at how they have all the time in the world.