HANGING FROM THE CEILING
"Enos!" Luke came out the General Lee, followed by Bo and Daisy, running to the uniformed motionless figure lying on the river's bank.
When they approached, the figure simply sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Hi Bo. Hi Luke. Hi Daisy."
"Enos, what…?" Luke stopped, looking at his friend with a surprised face.
Enos stood up and stirred, "Just a nape. It's a sunny day, and I decided to eat my lunch here, sitting on the river's bank, but, after lunch, uh… I just closed my eyes enjoying the sun and… well… I fell asleep," Enos' brief funny laugh, "I hope sheriff Rosco didn't call me, or he'll fire me."
Luke smiled, shaking his head, Bo laughed and Daisy bent over, her hands on her knees, sighing in relief.
"Don't try again to scare us this way, buddy," Bo patted gently on Enos' shoulder, keeping on smile, "It's incredible how you're able to have a nap wherever you are, Enos."
"Yeah, tied on a chair and hanging on a door as a beef, too," a genuine and shy smile from Enos, whose words surprised Bo and Luke, showing them finally their old and good friend and not his pale shadow, this new image of him washing away the scared and shocked one, the one they met just one week before at the Boar's Nest during a brawl, a week spent keeping an eye on him, a peaceful week, fortunately.
Daisy, instead, wasn't surprised so much, in her mind Enos' image as he talked and laughed of his "unmentionables" at the Boarding House: sometimes, here and there, Enos was still her sweet and clumsy Enos, but sometimes he was someone totally different, someone hitting a punch-bag with all his strength, a fury and a desperation never seen in him. It was as two different Enos were fighting inside him, he was probably fighting to come back to his old self, and it saddened and scared Daisy: he was desperately trying to not succumb to his dark memories, grabbing the present time, Hazzard and his friends, his only way to resist to the darkness inside him. Daisy felt it stronger than anybody else.
If only she had known what happened to him, she would have found the best way to help him: a false charge for police brutality leading to an unjust and terrific revenge? Was Luke's supposition right?
"Enos is a honest and peaceful man, someone totally unable to hurt anybody on purpose. I've never seen him hitting someone for rage, for revenge, or just for fun. If he hits someone it's just for self-defense or in order to stop a criminal, never exceeding in violence, anyway. So, IF really someone blamed him of police brutality, and if he faced the consequences of this false charge, well, I'm not surprised he's so shattered. Physical scars will heal, but psychological scars can change someone forever."
Daisy thought of uncle Jesse's last words the evening they talked about the possible meaning of Enos' reaction during the brawl and of that article on "The Los Angeles Time": she didn't want to see Enos changing, and her family would have done whatever they could to help Enos to remain grabbed to his old self. Whatever.
"So, the best way to help him, now, is to help him to feel at home, to help him to understand we trust him and we care for him, ALL Hazzard trusts and cares for him, no matter what L.A. did to him. No matter if L.A. betrayed him, he NEEDS to understand WE won't betray him," wise uncle Jesse's words.
"Hey Enos, what do you think to come at the farm for dinner? Uncle Jesse's famous carp, soup and hush puppies." Bo too was probably remembering uncle Jesse's words.
"Uncle Jesse's carp? Thanks, Bo, yeah, I'd like to have dinner at the farm… if… you want to."
"Enos, I've already invited you, so, I want to, buddy," Bo smiled gently.
"WE want to," and Luke confirmed their invitation.
Daisy walked closer him, gently kissing his cheek and making him blush, "See you, sugar."
When they walked to their orange car, Daisy turned to him, a relaxed and dreamy smile on his face as he waved to her, his cheeks still red: her sweet Enos.
Looking at the orange car becoming smaller and smaller, a cloud of dust behind it, Enos had a deep sight, he closed his eyes and he inhaled the scent around him, home's scent.
He walked to the river's bank and he sat down, enjoying the sun and trying to catch that peace and that comfort; he was surprised of how his emotions could change so much even along a single day, it was like being on a roller-coaster, a continuous up and down, comfort as he grabbed his present life, desperation and rage as his memories surfaced to his mind; an exhausting effort to push those memories away, forgetting everything. Useless effort.
He felt those memories waking up, again, and he stood up, walking to his car and driving away in order to find something to distract himself: job, friends, folks, whatever.
On their way back to the farm, in that early afternoon, Dukes were silent, in the General Lee's trunk and on the back seat 200 copies of "The Los Angeles Time".
Sitting between her cousins, Daisy was lost in her thoughts, those newspapers being a sort of annoying presence in the car, a rotten and foreign body, something Daisy wanted to explore (in order to know) but at the same time she feared. Andy got those newspapers for her in one week, and she was surprised of that quickness: just a call from Andy to a friend of a friend of a friend (the one at the end of the chain working for "The Los Angeles Time") and he managed to recover those copies; she didn't know how, exactly, but now those copies were in an orange car in Georgia instead of going to the shredder in L.A. Strange destiny.
"So, Andy's really managed to get you all The Los Angeles Time's copies."
Bo's voice woke Daisy up from her thoughts.
"Yeah, we should start to read them after we arrive at the farm, before Enos' coming for dinner. It's 1 p.m., and we have several hours before Enos' coming, several hours to read them… and to cook dinner. Maybe we're goin' to find something already today, otherwise we're goin' to keep on reading tomorrow. And we're goin' to hide these newspapers in my room. Now, I think we should work this way: 200 copies means 50 copies for any of us, uncle Jesse is goin' to read the first 50 copies (March and April), I the last 50 copies (July and August), and you and Luke the copies about May and June. Is everything clear? We're going to read EVERYTHING about local news, noting everything that could be interesting… rough cases, news about police brutality, accidents involving cops, and so on, and, obviously, Enos' name."
"It'll be really difficult. And maybe useless," Luke, his eyes on the road as he drove, glanced at Daisy, "but it seems it's our only chance, since Enos doesn't want to talk about it."
Daisy nodded, "We're goin' to find what happened to him, trust me. I feel it."
Nobody talked 'till they arrived at the farm, and when uncle Jesse saw them stopping the General Lee and taking from it several newspapers' packets, he understood it was time for their research: a long reading.
4 p.m.
Three hours of febrile reading, a pencil and a white sheet for any of them, the silence broken by their various suppositions, their eyes glancing at the clock: Enos was coming for dinner, and for sure they couldn't let him find them surrounded by all those newspapers, no dinner ready (unless they wanted to give him paper for dinner).
Supposition after supposition, discard after discard, their beginning idea of Enos blamed of police brutality rejected too (after a news about three cops committing police brutality in April, the man blaming them, Tom Mellow, being the same one they knew was re-arrested, but no Enos' name between those three names), their hope to have a clue disappointed, their febrile research on other possible clues.
"For God's sake," uncle Jesse's leapt on his armchair, his nephews and niece looking at him, their eyes wide in a thrilling waiting, "It's an article about that man blaming three cops of police brutality, again."
"But… in that previous article Enos' name wasn't between the ones of the cops blamed," Daisy looked at her uncle, in confusion; they already rejected that supposition.
"He wasn't one of the cops blamed of police brutality, in effect," uncle Jesse glanced at her, then his eyes again on the newspaper in his hand as he read, "Mellow and his attorney hope that this officer," a brief pause and his eyes lingering on his audience before to go on, "Enos Strate," a start from his nephews and niece, "will be able to discredit the testimony of the cops who claimed Mellow assaulted them. Having one police officer testifying against others in support of a defendant would be a rare phenomenon in the courtrooms of Los Angeles. It would constitute something of a break with the L.A. Police Department's notorious code of silence, the so-called blue wall of silence that critics say routinely protects brutal and corrupt police officers from discipline and prosecution," uncle Jesse stopped, his eyes thoughtful.
"We got it. Now we know what happened," Luke nodded, "So Enos testified against his colleagues after seeing them committing a crime. No surprising, for Enos," he sighed, "and no surprising it saddened and disappointed him: he probably trusted his colleagues, and they betrayed their job."
"And what about the beating, now?" Daisy's obvious question as her heart raced in her chest, thinking of how much Enos felt disappointed and hurt because of his colleagues' action.
Bo grabbed frantically the newspapers at his feet (from May to June), "If the origin of everything is that trial, well, I've just read some news about what happened after the trial. Some riots started in the city after the acquittal of those police officers."
"But… if Enos testified against them… why…"
Bo turned to Daisy, "Other officers testified in favor of them. So, Enos' deposition was the single one against them. Several officers were involved in that arrest, and… nobody else saw something wrong beside Enos… It seems they said Mellow had a gun... but no gun was found. Anyway, the jury acquitted all three officers, and riots started. When I read the news about the trial and the riots I didn't think Enos was involved 'cause his name wasn't mentioned, just the names of the three officers charged, so I put it aside. But now…"
"Oh my God," Daisy covered her face with her left hand, his right one clinging to the newspaper in it. Swallowing against the lump in her throat and thinking of how Enos felt after that double betrayal, she skimmed the news of the newspaper in her hand, finally knowing what she had to look for: since July the news talked about the riots, and Enos' letters stopped in July, so she was pretty sure he was injured in those riots. She skimmed the news of the newspapers at her feet, newspaper after newspaper, stopping abruptly on July 16th, tears filling her eyes, "Police officer brutally beaten during riots." She just skimmed the news, just to find the name of that police officer, and her doubts came to an end. Fortunately the journalist didn't bask into that beating, just few lines about the protesters beating a police officer, along a long report of that new day of riots, too much to say to focus only on one of the injured people, even if a cop.
"So, bitter twist of fate, Enos was the police officer victim of the protesters' fury. The only cop who did his duty," Bo shook his head, standing up and walking to the window, his arms raised, his hands resting on the window frame and his head down: his way to show his disbelief, rage and sadness all mixed together as he remembered Enos' few words about being beaten and about doing his duty.
"And I bet it happened 'cause nobody backed him up, otherwise protesters wouldn't have been able to beat so brutally a cop. Enos was probably alone," Luke stood his cousins and uncle's shocked look, "something similar happens among soldiers too. Nobody backs up a… rat, as it's called someone testifying against another soldier."
Bo turned again to the window, his fist hitting the frame, "It's… ABSURD!" rage in his voice.
"It's absurd, and unjust, and shameful, but it happens," Luke's voice moderate by his self-control beside Bo's sensitivity.
"And it's why we have to help Enos to feel at home, finally, washing away his sense of… betrayal, 'cause for sure what happened hurt his trust in his job and his idealism, beside his body. Come on, hide those newspapers and help me to cook dinner," uncle Jesse stood up, wearily as a boulder weighed on him, and slowly followed by his niece and nephews, their stomach worming for rage and sadness.
LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK
When he woke up, his arms were tied above his head, and his feet barely reached the floor: he was hanging from the ceiling, and it hurt.
He remembered his falling after a stone hit his helmet, and some tall men dragging him away from the crowd. He didn't remember those men 'cause someone put something on his face, probably a handkerchief soaked of chloroform, making him faint.
He didn't wear nor helmet nor knee and elbow pads, now, just his uniform.
He was blindfolded and he couldn't see where he was and who was around him.
He could hear them moving around him, no words from them.
The first blow hit him with a terrific violence, and other blows followed.
He knew what was hurting him, its length, its thickness and its toughness: baton, several batons… from cops' equipment.
Just a short note at the end of this chapter, but an IMPORTANT note, for me. OK, you understood what the story is about, but I want to say that it's NOT a story AGAINST cops (despite the thorny topic), not a story against LAPD!, so I hope nobody is offended by it (cops, cops' wives or sons, and so on... in my family there are a lot of cops, I'm a sister, a grand-daughter and a niece of uniformed men, so for sure the spirit of this story is not a spirit against police). I just want to explore Enos' sense of duty and idealism, what can shatter it and how Dukes can help him.
Hope you're liking it, and THANKS for reading :-)
