Fishin's a popular pastime in Hazzard County, and one of the best fishin' spots to be had lies right in the middle of the Frothy Meadows Camp for Disabled Children. But just because it's one of the best, don't automatically make it THE best. The title to that spot depends on who you are. And if you plan on sharing that bit of information to a kid who's partial to fishin', like young Tommy Vineyard, you better be prepared to deliver him to said spot. Not that you'd mind much, that kid has a way of growin' on ya.
"Awwww Tommy, c'mon now, I don't wanna git my clothes wet!"
"But Bo, did you see the size of that thing?" Tommy Vineyard asked, his eight year old eyes gleaming in excitement as he leaned forward in his wheelchair, his hands firmly grasping the fishing pole.
"Yeah, I saw it." Bo sighed. Bo had done a lot of fishing in his day here at Catfish Marsh, and that was truly one of the biggest catfish he had ever seen. As Tommy had pulled and reeled expertly, the fish had jumped out of the water and quickly gone back under, bringing Tommy's line beneath an underwater log, dashing all hopes of bringing it in the normal way.
"I'll betcha that thing's still on the hook, just stuck under there." Tommy theorized. "Oh please Bo, I just gotta have it. I'm tired of hearin' ole' Brandon Miller brag about that big carp he pulled in last summer over at the camp."
Bo sighed as he looked at the murky water, made orange by the marriage of recent rains and Georgia red clay. "I hope you realize it's gonna take a week of baths for my skin to return to it's original color." Bo announced, taking off his shirt. "Here, hold that." He added, handing the shirt to Tommy before he fussed with his belt buckle.
"Well don't take too long." Tommy insisted. "Mrs. Davis is gonna skin me alive if I don't git back 'fore long.."
"Not as bad as Daisy'd skin me if I showed up askin' her to git that stuff outta my clothes." Bo announced, tossing the pants on top of his shirt. "Now you just stay right there and don't get any closer to the water than ya already are."
"Okay Bo." Tommy promised as Bo grabbed onto the line and followed it into the water, wearing nothing more than his boxer shorts.
When Bo got chest deep he frowned. "You absolutely sure you want that fish, Tommy?"
" Brandon ain't gonna go on my word, Bo!" Tommy insisted.
Heaving a sigh, Bo took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and went under, feeling around for the line that was impossible to see in the murk. After coming up for a couple of breaths and going back under, he finally found it. Sure enough, it was snaked under a log.
As he felt around to the other side of the log, he found the catfish still securely attached to the hook. As he freed the fish, he quickly felt himself running out of breath.
Kicking off to go to the surface, a branch of the log caught on to his boxer shorts. Although Bo struggled against it for a few panic filled moments, he managed to hold onto the wiggiling catfish. Finally having to decide which item was more important, he kicked himself out of his shorts before bobbing to the surface.
"Bo!" Tommy yelled, a slight panic in his voice as Bo coughed. "Bo are you alright?"
"Fine (cough) Tommy." Bo replied as he struggled to take breaths and focus on his surroundings.
"Did you get it?" Tommy yelled out hopefully.
Holding up the fish, Bo turned around where Tommy could see it, having come up facing the opposite direction. Once he did so, his face immediately fell as Tommy's brightened.
"That IS a big fish. Bigger than Brandon's ole' carp any day. Don't you think so, Mrs. Davis?"
Mrs. Davis, the counselor who had shown up during the retrieval, eyed the fish.. "It certainly does Tommy. I think you've got a winner there!"
"Of course, what else can you expect from my boy?"
Tommy peered at the man who had just stepped out from behind Ms. Davis. "Dad?!" He gleamed in excitement.
As Tommy threw his fishing pole down, Mr. Vineyard scooped him up in his arms and swung him around as the pair laughed in glee. "Aw, it's good ta see ya kiddo! You ain't been givin' Mrs. Davis here a fit, have ya?"
"C'mon dad. How much damage can a kid in a wheelchair do?" Tommy asked innocently.
"Plenty." His dad replied, placing Tommy back in his chair before playfully pushing his son's nose with a finger. "You can fool some people with that innocent expression, but ya can't fool yer old man. I's the one that raised ya, remember?"
Tommy giggled a boyish giggle. "Well, if I've got into anything it's Bo's fault, 'cause I'm gonna be just like him when I grow up." He announced, nodding toward Bo who looked like a winning roll model as he stood waist deep in the murky marsh water while holding the fish.
"Mr. Duke, come on out of there and say hello to Mr. Vineyard." Mrs. Davis suggested.
"Well ma'am, I'd like to, but….." He trailed off, nodding toward his clothes that were now on the ground as Tommy had been removed from his seat.
"Oh!" Ms. Davis replied, reddening slightly in embarrassment. "Well we'll take Tommy back to the camp. Soon as you're dressed, come on over."
Bo offered Ms. Davis a nod of agreement before handing the fish off to Mr. Vineyard, feeling a might silly offering him a first time handshake as he stood buck naked in the water.
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A little while later, a clothed Bo wandered up to the camp and found Tommy showing off his prized fish to Uncle Jesse, who had come to give Bo a ride home as Luke had gone to Atlanta to pick up some supplies in the General.
"………..biggest fish anybody here has ever caught! I was afraid I'd lost it, but Bo found it still on a hook under that log and brought it up for me!" Tommy explained in excited breath.
Jesse looked up to his nephew and smiled in amusement. Bo's skin held a slightly orange tint from his swim. "Well I'm glad, for your sake, that you had enough sense to take off yer clothes first."
"I know, Uncle Jesse. I didn't wanna face Daisy's frying pan for the clothes but I can handle the skin for a couple of days."
Well that's not surprising. Bo always was partial to orange, ya know.
"Well now that yer all dried up, maybe you kin give Thomas here a proper greeting." Jesse suggested.
"Good to meet you, Thomas." Bo offered, shaking Mr. Vineyard's hand again. "I'm Bo Duke."
"Likewise Bo." Thomas Vineyard replied. "But you need no introduction. You're name comes up at least 12 times in each of my son's letters, usually with the word 'cool' or 'awesome' found close by."
Bo laughed. "You ain't tryin' to git me in trouble now, are ya Tommy?" He asked.
"No!" Tommy insisted. "I just tell Dad about all the cool things ya do. Like jumpin' the General and playin' baseball with me, and wrestlin' with my dog and takin' me fishin'……." He trailed off, slightly hanging his head in sadness all of a sudden.
"Hey Tommy, why the one-eighty?" His dad asked, lifting up his chin.
Tommy sighed. "I just wish I could do some of the things Bo does. Like goin' under the water today to git this fish. Dumb wheelchair."
As he looked sad, Bo looked to Thomas before turning to his young friend. "Uh Tommy, ain't nobody that can do everythang, wheelchair or not. Why Luke, he can't swim a lick….just kinda wades out in the water. And Daisy, she's practiced snappin' her fingers for years, just can't seem to git it right. And Uncle Jesse here….." Bo trailed off as he looked at Uncle Jesse, unable to think of anything he couldn't do.
"Well, I can't do a cartwheel." Jesse offered.
Tommy had to laugh at that one. "Why would you want to?" He had to ask.
"Well why would you want to go 'round lookin' orange like Bo there?" Jesse asked in return.
"Just knowin' I could." Tommy replied. "Don't know why I had to be born with my back all messed up."
"Well, ain't nobody born perfect either, Tommy." Jesse replied, trying to make him feel better. "Why I've had this ugly ole' mole on my neck almost from day one. And Bo there, he always had breathin' problems growin' up."
"You did?" Tommy asked in amazement.
"Sure did." Bo replied, patting him on the back.
"And my wife Lavinia and I, we had a son once. And that little baby, his two little toes was growed together on one of his feet."
"I didn't know you had a boy, Uncle Jesse." Tommy revealed in genuine amazement. "Where's he at now?"
"Um…" Jesse replied with downcast eyes. "He died soon as he's born. Up in heaven with his mamma now. But the point is Tommy, don't nobody come into the world perfect, or stay that way fer long if they do."
Although Tommy was better off, Bo could see that his it was now his uncle's turn to go thru a bout of sadness. The subject of his stillborn son was something that very rarely came up in conversation. Bo could only remember him mentioning it about 4 times in Bo's entire life. But he could see how Tommy's situation and Jesse's own fondness for the boy would reintroduce the subject.
"So…" Bo began, trying to change the subject. "How long you gonna be in Hazzard, Thomas?"
"Oh, long as I can." Thomas replied, snapping out of his own thoughts. "I lost my job in Calhoun and I come up here, hopin' to find somethin' closer to Tommy. You know of any jobs around here? Farmwork and such?"
"What kind a pay you lookin' fer?" Jesse asked.
"Nothin' but a roof over my head and a meal on the table." Thomas replied. "I don't want to get bogged down with the responsibilities of a payin' job just yet. Not while Tommy's outta school for the summer and I can spend some time with him."
"Uncle Jesse, we can always use extra help on the farm, can't we?" Bo asked, seeing Tommy's eyes lighten up at the thought of spending quality time with his dad.
"Sure can." Jesse replied. "But it'd only be fair fer me ta send ya somewhere else, Thomas. The meals we got, the room we ain't."
"If ya got a barn loft, ya got the room 'far as I'm concerned." Thomas replied. "'Course if ya ain't up to it, I'll look somewhere else. Don't wanna impose on nobody."
"Nonsense. If tha barn suits you, it suits me." He smiled, turning to Bo. "Now maybe that'll free up some time for you boys ta look into enterin' that race over in Hatchapee County."
"That would be great, Uncle Jesse!" Bo's eyes gleamed in excitement.
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"If'n ya need anything, jist come in tha house. We don't bother ta lock up." Jesse told Thomas as he sat in the barn loft, preparing to settle in for the night.
"Thanks Jesse. See ya in the morning." Thomas replied.
"Goodnight." Jesse said, turning to walk out the barn door.
Thomas watched as Jesse's form turned into a shadow before disappearing from sight all together. Once he was gone, he sighed and opened his duffle bag.
Going through a tattered book, he took out a baby photo. The photo of an infant boy had seen better days. The black and white creased, torn image clearly revealed it's age.
Turning it over on the back, he read "Thomas, Tri-County Hospital, August 1948."
Swallowing, Thomas replaced the photo in the book. Grabbing up the blanket Jesse had left, he spread it out onto the hay.
Kicking off his shoes and socks, he stretched and yawned for the night, not being able to help but look at his foot………..as he flexed his two little fused toes.
Ya know, bein' thick skinned ain't usually a problem, till ya come to Hazzard County.