UNDER A TREE

Resting against the doorpost, Daisy observed Enos still sleeping, his head half-covered with the blanket while a bright sun entered the room in that September morning, uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke already in the fields for the wheat harvest.

She spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, running to the boys' room as soon as she heard their voices, thinking Enos was feeling sick again, and stopping outside the door when Enos told her cousins he simply couldn't sleep but he had no pain; she remained there, outside the door, listening to their muffled voices, wondering if enter the room or not, and deciding definitively to not come in as Enos said he didn't want to worry her.

"I… need to see her smiling and laughing in order to… forget what happened."

Her feeling about Enos' desire to forget was right: he was trying desperately to forget his time in L.A., and he thought of her as his salvation. She was moved by his needing her so badly, but at the same time that responsibility scared her: was she able to help him?

"They nearly killed me. They beat me with no mercy just 'cause I did my duty."

His words were stuck in her mind and heart as a red-hot iron. He told Bo and Luke what happened to him, just a little revelation but a revelation; he told her cousins and not her about it, and his partial opening up to her cousins and not to her saddened her, even if she knew he wanted only spare her his pain. He needed her but he didn't want to open up to her 'cause he didn't want to worry her.

Enos rolled on his back, surfacing from the blanket so the sun hit his face, making him moan and cover his eyes with his hand.

Daisy sighed, then she took a deep breath and she dressed her best smile, walking to the bed and sitting on it, "Hey, sugar, it's morning, and it's a great sunny day."

Enos rubbed his eyes then looking at her, "What time is it?"

"8 a.m."

"Possum on a gum bush, Dais, I have to work," he sat up and he put the blanket aside, ready to get up.

"Enos, no, it's your day off," she grabbed his arm, stopping him and facing his surprised look, "Uncle Jesse called Boss, yesterday evening, and he asked him to give you one day off."

"And… did Mr Hogg agree?" more and more confusion in Enos' eyes.

"Well, uncle Jesse persuaded him."

"Uh… yeah, I suppose Mr Hogg is goin' to deduct this day from my salary," he smiled, well knowing Boss' idea about his deputies' salary.

She wrapped her left arm around his waist and she came closer him, "It's a perfect day to spend outside, in the sun."

He moved away from her, "Daisy, sorry, but…," he blushed, "I need a shower… I stink 'cause… I sweated too much," he looked down as a scolded child, embarrassed.

Daisy burst out laughing, surprised by his sweet and naïve way to confess her his fear, "Oh Enos, you're really something else. No, you don't stink. Anyway make yourself at home, after the shower you can dress Bo and Luke's clothes. What do you want for breakfast? While you have a shower, I'm goin' to cook something for you."

"Your apple pie and buttermilk."

"Just apple pie and buttermilk? Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I'd like to eat your apple pie. I came here for it, yesterday, after all."

"OK for apple pie and buttermilk," she stood up and she walked to the door, "hurry up. Bo, Luke and uncle Jesse are waiting for us… and for my sandwiches."

Enos looked at her leaving, her clear laugh still resounding in his ears; he took a deep breath and he smiled: Daisy, Dukes, Hazzard's fields, apple pie… he was coming back to life.


Moving inside the kitchen with simple and automatic gestures, Daisy thought of Enos' words during the night. Luke reported those words to uncle Jesse and to her, that morning, and she pretended she didn't know anything about it (she couldn't confess her eavesdropping), agreeing with Luke's conclusion to help Enos involving him in their life (helping him to feel at home) without pressing him to talk of his trauma 'till he was ready for it.

"I just want to…. forget. OK? And if you keep on asking me what's happened, looking at me with those worried eyes, I… won't feel better, but worse and worse."

When Enos entered the kitchen, she dressed again her best smile, a sincere and relaxed smile as she read in his features a same smile.

Luke's shirt and jeans on, Enos sat at the table, eating his apple pie and drinking his buttermilk, and he looked like he enjoyed it very much.

"May I help uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke, in the fields?"

"Sugar, I don't think Doc Appleby's concept of rest provides the wheat harvest." She suddenly regretted her words, afraid of his thinking of her words as a new attempt to talk about what happened to him, but he kept on smiling and eating the apple pie, and she relaxed.

"You're right, if I feel sick after working in the field, Doc Appleby would be a bit … annoyed."

He was joking about it, and Daisy wondered if, somehow, after his confessing the reason why he stayed in Hospital, he felt better. Maybe Luke was right: Enos was going to feel better after opening up, but they couldn't force the time of his opening up.

He confessed the reason of his staying in Hospital to Bo and Luke and not to her: she couldn't deny it bothered her. For sure Enos knew Bo and Luke would have talked to her and uncle Jesse about his confession (he didn't ask Bo and Luke to keep his secret and Enos knew Dukes shared everything about their family and friends), and he confessed it to them. Not to her.

"Enos is a man, a stubborn and prideful man"

Uncle Jesse was right, and for a prideful man, a prideful cop, being beaten with no mercy as he was doing his duty was for sure a bad defeat, something crashing his pride (as a man and as a cop), and maybe it was why Enos was more prone to talk about it with his friends (men's things) than to her.

Cop's defeat: again his job above her.

"Daisy, are you OK?"

His voice woke her up from her thoughts. No, she couldn't show him her worrisome and disappointment.

"Everything's OK, sugar. And now, to the fields," she took the lunch-bag and she walked to the door.


Sitting under a tree they looked at Bo and Luke working hard, their bare and sweaty chests sparkling in the sun.

Daisy glanced at Enos: he seemed fine and relaxed, and she hoped he wasn't going to need Vicodin any more.

"Enos, if I committed a crime, would you arrest me?" Oh my God, she said it, she really asked it to him.

He turned to her, surprised by her question, "Did you commit a crime, Dais?"

"Obviously, NO! Just forget about it, Enos. Stupid question," she blushed, looking away.

He kept on looking at her, "Yeah, if you committed a crime, I would arrest you, 'cause it's my job. It'd kill me, it'd be ravaging, BUT I'd do it. There's no way I'd betray my badge, and if I'd think I can't be loyal to my badge any more, well, I should undress my uniform."

His duty above all, she knew it, and even if she respected his job and this side of him, she was difficult for her to deal with it. She nodded, but she didn't look up at him.

"Daisy, please, PLEASE, you know how much I care for you, you know I'd do everything for you, BUT don't ask me to choose between you and my job. It's not a matter of choice. You and my job are important to me, in a different way. Maybe, if I had to arrest you, if you really committed a crime, I'd do it… and then I'd kill myself, or I wouldn't do it, undressing my uniform… and not being myself anymore."

"Sorry Enos. Stupid question. I'm really sorry," she swallowed against the lump in her throat; she liked but she didn't like that answer, a confusing feeling.

"Are you planning to commit a crime? Did you already commit a crime? Did you drug me with your apple pie in order to take advantage of me and ransacking again my room, unmentionables included?"

Daisy looked up at him, surprised; he was smiling, he was teasing her in order to make her laugh and to stop that conversation, a conversation ravaging not only for her but for him too.

"Oh Enos…," she laughed, "OK, stop this conversation," she sighed and she looked away, "It's that… sometimes… I'm jealous of your job. I want you just for myself." She told it, finally, she confessed it to him, and she felt better.

She felt his eyes on her, and she wondered what he was thinking of her confession.

"You should think of my job not as a rival but as my way to protect you… and to be worthy of you."

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the real meaning of his words, and the truth in it; he loved her, and he wanted to deserve her, protecting her and being an honest man. A new perspective of his job: she was stunned and happy.

He stood up and he stirred, looking up at the tree's leaves, "Don't call it anymore - darn job -, please," a brief pause, his eyes still focused on the tree's leaves, "You called it – darn job -, didn't you?"

She turned pale, "Yeah… sorry," looking up at him and finding out he was smiling happily whereas she thought he could be angry.

"I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job!"

Thinking back of her words, she understood why he was smiling: if he heard her words about his job, it meant he probably heard her words about her being his closest relation and her loving him, too.

"Thanks," he walked to uncle Jesse and the boys, distant in the field, and Daisy remained sitting there, speechless, realizing they just confessed each other their love in their usual way: without using the word "love".


LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK

In the squad room, Enos looked outside the window, his chief subdividing works among officers: he already knew he was going to stay in office, no way for him to work with his colleagues in the streets.

Another boring day behind a desk, boring paperwork, but he had no choice.

After the briefing he walked outside the room, no eye contact with anybody.

It was disheartening: he always felt like he tried to do the right thing. Was it the consequence of doing the right thing?

He walked to his locker, Daisy's letter in it, a letter he didn't read, yet, torn between the desire to read it and not to read it: he didn't know if that letter would have cheered him up or if it would have saddened him. He missed Hazzard, he missed Daisy, and he wanted to go back to his town, his little and rural town.

Late June. Just a couple of months and his staying in L.A. was over: his training finally over, and what a training. He could ask to come back home before the end of the training, if he wanted to, nobody could stop him, but his pride couldn't accept this defeat.

Walking to his locker, he heard, in the distance, the city's noise, a noise different than usual: no sirens and horns, but voices, shouts, tear-gas shooting, batons beating against shields.

The second day of riot in the neighborhood near the Police Department.

He walked to his locker and he stopped, staring at the letters scrawled on it.