THE CURE

I knock at his door, frantically; my knocking follows the rhythm of my heart, fast and... furious.

I know pretty well he's had a bad day: a bad crash chasing some bank robbers, some broken ribs, Boss's anger and Rosco's insults. As several times in the past. His life is not simple, not at all: he's the only honest cop in Hazzard, he has to endure Rosco's and Boss' reproaches (and insults), managing to be honest despite them and always doing his duty, and, when he can't do his duty, for different reasons, he feels defeated and ashamed.

He doesn't open the door. No surprising, from him.

I sigh, "Enos, open the door. I know you're there. Rosco told me you left the Court House a couple of hours ago, coming back home". I hate him when he avoids me 'cause he has a problem; I have always to fight against his pride, darn pride.

Finally he opens the door and he looks at me, sadly.

"Enos, let me in, please". I smile sweetly and I try to hide the worrisome in my voice, 'cause I know his pride would misunderstand it with pity, and there's nothing worse than pity for a prideful man.

"It's better you go to the farm, Dais. I'm very tired. See you tomorrow, OK?". He looks into my eyes just for few seconds, a piercing look, before to avert his eyes, looking at the floor.

I fold my arms, "No, it's not OK at all, Enos Strate. Let me in. I know everything, and I'm not going to let you alone". I won't let him push me away.

"But Daisy…. I'm OK, there's no need to stay here". He keeps on looking at the floor, smiling shyly and gently shaking his head.

He's trying to keep off me, so typical from him, when he doesn't want me to see him defeated.

But I'm more stubborn than him.

"Enos, let me in", I'm starting to become impatient, but I sweeten my tone, "... please".

He knows I won't go away, so he opens completely the door and I finally enter his apartment.

I can't help but notice his gun belt on the couch and his hat on the bed; his tie is untied and his hair ruffled. Everything around him (and he) is so sloppy, totally uncharacteristic.

He leans against the wall with his back, folding his arms, in a spot. Since he hasn't his hat in his hands, he doesn't know how to give vent to his uneasiness.

"So, what do you want to talk 'bout, Dais? I'm very tired, and I don't want to talk 'bout today. You should go back to the farm". Self defensive. Again.

But I'm stubborn, and he knows it very well.

"Does it hurt?", I come closer him and I gently touch the left side of his chest, where Doc Appleby told me he has some broken ribs.

He starts and he moves away from me, "Only a bit, don't worry".

"It seems something different of only a bit, Enos. Let me see it". Now, I can't hide any more my worrisome, in my voice nor my gestures, and I start to unbutton his shirt, automatically.

He blushes furiously and he stops me, "Doc Appleby already visited me and he gave me some pain killers. He also told me to have some rest in the next days. Anything else. Only some broken ribs. It's painful, but it's not so bad. So please, Daisy, go home".

I'm both angry and sad every time he keeps off me like that. How can he be so sweet and so gentle, but sometimes so impossible to reach?

"Enos, you should learn to accept help from your friends", I know what's the problem with him, I know it pretty well, "It wasn't your fault; those robbers fooled Bo and Luke too, and now Cooter is fixing not only your patrol car but the General too". Pride, darn pride.

He sighs and he sits on his bed, finally nodding. He's dropping his guard.

I sit down by his side and I reach his hand; this time, fortunately, he doesn't refuse my touch.

"When Bo and Luke told me 'bout your crash I was very scared", I speak without looking at him, remembering pretty well how I felt when my cousins told me 'bout the crash; I remember pretty well that chilling cold rising from my feet to my head, and that grasp around my neck, preventing me to talk and even to breath. Fortunately they told me he wasn't so bad, and I calmed down, but I knew it could have been pretty different, and worse, and my cousins too; Enos is somehow one of us, we know him since our childhood, we have a genuine affection for him, any of us, we'd do anything to help him (anything!), we'd be totally shocked if something bad happened to him. Any of us: uncle Jesse, Bo, Luke... and me, but I know I'd be the most affected of all. And Enos too would do anything for us, anything for me, he'd risk his life for me. In effect he already risked his life for me, when Scanlon kidnapped me: I erase the image of Enos walking towards Scanlon, his hands up, the gun drawn on him.

My forefinger slides slowly on his hand's palm and then on his inner wrist. I like his hand: so big, so warm. I clasp my left hand in his warm right one, interlocking our fingers, "Fortunately you didn't get injured badly".

He shrugs, "Only few broken ribs".

I know he's looking at me, I feel his look on my neck, burning like fire, but I don't look back at him 'cause I know he'd look away.

My right hand is now caressing the back of his one, now wrapped in both my hands... perfectly fitting into my hands... born to stay in my hands. My palm against his palm, our fingers perfectly interlocked.

Suddenly his breath speeds up and he stands up, his voice a funny squeak, "What would you like for dinner? There's no much in my fridge, but I could call the roasted goods store".

Oh, Enos. So shy and sweet. I sigh, smiling and shaking my head, "Don't worry 'bout the dinner. I'm not hungry. Anyway, let me see what I could do with your fridge. I guess I can manage a good dinner".

So, I start cooking, enjoying this sort of playing "the happy family"; I'm cooking for him in his apartment, and I can't deny I like it very much. I cook with a smile on my face, humming; I've always liked to sing.

He wants to help me but I tell him to rest a bit. He's tired, isn't he?

When finally the dinner is ready I realize he's fallen asleep on his bed. I look at him sleeping so deeply I prefer let him sleep; yeah, he was really tired, he was right. I sit down on his bed, close to him, then I lie down by his side.

He's motionless except for his regular breathing; I look at his chest rising and falling, like hypnotized, and, without even realize it, I fall asleep.

When I wake up it's late evening, a winter late evening, so, outside the window, it's dark.

The dinner (untouched) is still on the table, and he's still deeply sleeping.

I sit up and I slowly start to unbutton his shirt; I don't know why, maybe I only want to see the bruises on his chest… Or I think so.

After I've unbuttoned completely his shirt I stare at his chest and at his flat stomach; on the left side of his chest there are some bluish bruises, nothing so dramatic, I know, but I can't help but looking at these bruises with a sense of nausea, so I have to look away, focusing on all his chest but not those bruises, on his nipples, on his belly.

"Daisy Duke, what the heck are you thinking of?". I feel my cheeks burning, my heart speeding and my hands becoming sweaty.

I lie again by his side, driven to him as a bee to honey; I rest my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat and trying to fall again asleep, useless. I can't sleep at all, confused by this sudden and stunning... lust (?).

Suddenly his breath fastens and he jerks, moaning.

"Did he take pain killers Doc gave to him?". Sometimes he's so dreamy, and he needs someone who takes care of him, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Darn pride.

I shake him gently, "Enos".

He slowly opens his eyes, moaning, "It hurts", his voice like a whisper.

I nod, "I know, sugar. Where are pain killers Doc gave you?"

He looks at me in confusion, still sleepy and probably wondering what's happening, "Uh…. Yeah… in that drawer".

I stand up, I reach the drawer and I give him a pill.

I look at him swallowing the pill, then lying down still in pain.

"Those robbers escaped because of me. I've failed". He closes his eyes, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

Not only a physical pain, and I knew it pretty well: he can't fool me, pretending everything's OK.

I shake my head, "Enos, it's not your fault. You're a good cop. I know it. Everyone knows it". I bend over him and I gently kiss his lips; surprisingly, he kisses me back, slowly.

Did he realize I unbuttoned his shirt? What is he thinking of me?

The kiss deepens, and I wrap my arms around his bare chest.

I shiver.

It's me and him, hugging tight.

The world is outside the door.

It's only me and him.