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Chapter 72: All Roads Lead Home

They say there's a place where dreams have all gone
They never said where, but I think I know
Its miles through the night just over the dawn
On the road that will take me home
'Going home"- Mary Fahl

Enos woke in the still hours of early morning, instantly alert. The room was quiet and the light from the hallway shone unimpeded beneath the door. He held his breath and listened, wondering what had drawn him up from a deep sleep.

He had dragged the folding bed beside Daisy, but from his lower vantage point all he could see were the metal workings of the hospital bed. The fluorescent light at the head of her bed was off, in hopes that Daisy would be able to sleep through the night if it were darker. He'd been afraid to leave all the light off, though, so he had turned the bathroom light on and left the door cracked.

As if on cue with his thoughts, a frightened gasp came from the bed as Daisy woke and struggled to sit up. Enos rolled off the cot and smacked his head on the wheel of the hospital bed.

Wincing, he struggled to his feet "Daisy!"

"Enos?"

Forgetting his aching head, he reached out to calm her, afraid she would try to get up. "Daisy, hey...it's okay," he brushed back the hair from her face. "Shhh...everything's alright."

Her eyes were like an animal trapped in headlights, and he knew she wasn't sure if she was awake or dreaming. He edged himself closer, embracing her gently, and she burrowed her head into the crook of his shoulder and clenched her fists into his shirt. He held her as minutes slipped by, ignoring the ache in his back and the twinge of pain where he'd whacked his head. Little by little, he felt her muscles relax.

"What's going on, Enos?" she whispered, at last. "Where are we?"

He eased her from his arms to lay back against the pillow. "You oughta take better care of yourself, Daisy Mae," he scolded her, tenderly. "You plum near scared me to death yesterday. What do you remember?"

She shook her head in confusion. "The Gold Club...then some really weird dreams?"

"I got so worried about you," he admitted. "You were burning up with fever, and I couldn't hardly wake you up, so I brought you here. Good thing I did," he added, "on account of you had appendicitis."

She looked him over, then took his hand in hers and held it up in front of her face. "Sugar, I must've missed somethin' more if we're in a public hospital and you ain't in handcuffs." Her eyes bore into his. "Enos, what's happened?"

"You want the long version of the story or the short one?" he laughed.

Still utterly nonplussed, she stifled a yawn and shook her head. "Give me the short version right now. I feel like I ain't slept in three days."

He told her about calling Gary's secretary with the address she'd gotten from the Gold Club and about it getting passed on to the GBI and then the Las Vegas Police Department. He told her about them raiding the house and finding Candy and Darcy. He did not, however, divulge what they'd found in the basement of the house or in Darcy's car. He wasn't supposed to have been privileged to that information, and there was no need to worry her - he'd reckoned he'd be doing enough of that himself until Darcy was shut up behind bars for the rest of his life.

As he spoke, he watched the confusion turn to anger and then to burning fury as she realized Darcy had been behind everything that had happened to Enos. She wasn't clueless to the history between them and she understood immediately what he hadn't said.

"I knew back at your trial that someone had it in for you," she seethed. "All that evidence against you! And all this time it was Darcy."

Suddenly, the fire left her eyes, replaced by some realization that Enos didn't understand. "Enos..," her voice broke in a sob, "if I'd never asked him out-"

Enos clamped his hand over her mouth before she could finish her thought. "Don't you dare take any blame for this!" he snapped, his earlier anger at Darcy rekindling. "So help me, Daisy, don't you dare."

He stared her down, not moving his hand until she dropped her gaze. "This ain't got nothin' to do with anything you did or didn't do." he told her. "He's hated me since high school, and you know it. Probably, he thought me being shut up like a bug in a jar was the funniest thing he'd ever seen, and don't think he didn't hear about it. It was all over the national news."

She shook her head in disbelief, and Enos hoped she drop it, at least for now. He didn't want to think about the rest of it; he was too tired, and he was worried he'd end up telling her more about Darcy's motives if they kept talking.

"I hope he gets beat every day of his miserable life when he goes to prison."

"I just don't want to have to think about him ever again. He ain't worth sparing good time over. About the handcuffs," he said, changing the subject, "the GBI says I'm not free, yet. Not legally, anyway, but they've been real hospitable about everything. That Wilburn guy's got a heart of gold. You know, he told me he never thought I did it?"

Her smile lit up her eyes, the anger forgotten. "I just can't believe it!"

"It's thanks to you, Daisy," he reminded her. "You snookered that Gold Club right fine. Just like a Duke."

She grinned back at him, then yawned. "If I go back to sleep, will you be here when I wake up?"

"I will if I can," he told her, truthfully, "I'm not sure what's going on, yet. Technically, I'm still a prisoner, but Agent Stewart said the governor approved my immediate transfer to Hazzard County's Jail, so I guess I'll go back with Rosco." He hadn't had a chance to talk with him, yet, but that seemed to be the consensus.

"Then give me a kiss, and tell me you love me."

"You know I do," he laughed, planting a chaste kiss against her lips.

"And give me back what I gave you for safe keepin'." She turned her hand up, expectantly. "You better not have lost it."

He fished her ring from his shirt pocket and laid it in her open palm. "I reckon Uncle Jesse saw mine," he said, as she slid the ring back onto her finger, "but he didn't say nothin' about it. Guess he had enough to think about last night, it's not like him not to notice."

"We'll cross that bridge later," she shrugged, then narrowed her eyes at him. "You take it off, and you'll deal with me, Mr. Strate, and I'll be worse than Uncle Jesse."

"You act like I was thinking about it," he complained. After all he'd faced over the last year, people wondering about him wearing a wedding ring was low on his list of things that concerned him. "Go to sleep, Daisy Mae."

Enos spent the next half hour aimlessly staring up at the dark ceiling, long after he heard Daisy's breathing fall back into the rhythmic patterns of sleep. Thinking the GBI agents outside the door probably didn't have much to do other than sit around themselves, he got up and put on his boots, figuring he'd see if one of them wouldn't mind wandering around the hospital with him. They looked up at him as he came out into the hallway, one playing with a yo-yo and the other sitting on floor reading a dog-eared novel, his back against the wall.

"Can't sleep?" asked the one he recognized as Agent Siler from earlier.

"Daisy woke up for a while," he explained, "but I can't seem to get back to sleep. I was wondering if one of you might be able to go for a walk with me?"

The one reading the novel stood up and stretched. "No problem," he said. "I could use a little exercise myself." He turned down the corner of the page to mark his place and set the book down.

They made their way through the empty wing of the maternity ward, down towards the elevators in the center hub of the unit. The agent hit the "1" button, then turned and held out his hand. "Agent Todd Miler."

Enos shook his hand as the elevator dinged softly and the door slid open. "I reckon everyone knows me," he said, "but Enos Strate, pleased to to meet you. I'm awful sorry you had to pull the night shift. I know you'd probably rather be at home in bed."

Agent Miller waved his concern aside. "Oh, it's no trouble; I get paid for it. Besides, I get to be on the front lines of what everybody's talking about." He shot Enos a grin. "You're a celebrity, you know. Sorry about that."

Enos frowned, thinking of all the publicity he really didn't want. What he really wanted was a quiet, lonely place, just him and Daisy, while the rest of the world worked itself out. The elevator door opened to the bottom floor of the hospital between the gift shop and front desk. As they rounded the corner into the main waiting area, Enos saw a very familiar, uniformed man asleep against the back wall, his head bent at an uncomfortable angle.

"Ding-dang!" he swore to the agent, "I didn't know the Sheriff was here or I would've talked to him earlier."

Quickly, he made his way over to Rosco and sat down in the seat next to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Sheriff!" he said, softly, "Sheriff Rosco, wake up!"

Rosco rubbed his face then opened his eyes and shot up in his seat, having forgotten where he was until he saw Enos beside him. "Enos you done give me such a fright-" he started to say, then stopped and grabbed him around the shoulders and hugged him tight before letting him go just as quickly, a true smile on his face and suspiciously watery eyes. "You sure are a sight for sore eyes boy!" He frowned and jerked his thumb towards the GBI agent. "These city slickers ain't told me nothing about you or Daisy, except to say that the governor remanded you to my custody."

"He's right, Mr. Strate," said Agent Miller, "as long as you're with him, I don't really need to be around." He looked expectantly at the sheriff. "If that's okay with Sheriff Coltrane."

"Skedaddle, you meadow muffin!" groused Rosco.

The agent just smiled. "Just let the GBI know before you leave to go back to Hazzard," he said. "Night, Mr. Strate. Sheriff." With a polite nod at them, he turned and left.

As it turned out, Enos didn't see Daisy again until Saturday, since the doctor wouldn't release her from the hospital until 48 hours after surgery. He wasn't there when they told her, but he thought he could surely imagine the fire in her eyes and her sharp tongue. After a few arrangements with the GBI early Friday morning, Enos stepped out of the hospital with Rosco, an almost free man. The governor was expected to sign his pardon as the first order of business on Monday, acquitting him of all charges associated, not only with the crime of first degree murder, but also the pending escape and kidnapping charges. Until then, he was effectively the property of Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane and the county of Hazzard, Georgia.

The night's rain had cleared the humidity and smog from the air of Atlanta, revealing a morning sky of deep, beautiful blue above them; almost as blue as Kansas. Almost. Certainly Kansas had smelled much better, thought Enos, with a quiet laugh. His happiness was tempered by a ripple of nervous dread as he opened the passenger door of Rosco's Dodge Monaco. It had been a long time since he'd been in a car, much less a police cruiser. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through it, shaking his head at himself in consternation as he slid onto the leather seat and shut the door. The smell of the hot car brought back countless memories of before, and he turned to hide his face as Rosco slipped behind the wheel.

They passed through a conglomeration of intersections and interchanges, neither speaking, until they merged onto I-85 North and Rosco flipped on the lights and sped up to 80.

"I'm sorry you didn't get much sleep, Sheriff," he said, thinking Rosco looked every day of his 60 years and then some. "I shoulda asked them GBI agents about another bed."

"Oh, tidly-tudly!" said Rosco, dismissing his apology. "I pull later nights than that every spring when momma gets one of them sinus infections."

An uncomfortable silence filled the car while Enos tried to think of an easy topic for them to talk about. "So, how's Mr. Hogg doing? he asked. "He staying out of trouble?"

There was no humor in the sheriff's laugh. "Well...uh, Enos...You know, Boss ain't never fancied you very much, what with you always sendin' his associates' fingerprints into the GBI 'on accident'." He shot him a stern look across the cab. "And don't think I don't know what you were doing...you were a better cop than me," he murmured.

"Sheriff-"

"Anyway," said Rosco, cutting him off, "Funny you should ask about him. He's taken it into his head that you met a lot of his ex-business partners down there in Fulton, and they might have sent you back to take him out."

The idea of him carrying out a hit on Mr. Hogg was so ridiculous, Enos burst out laughing. "What!?"

"I'm not joshing you, Enos. He's been acting almost as squirrelly as you used to, lately. To be honest," he continued, somberly, "I'm a little worried about my little, fat buddy. He's been slowing down a lot over this last year, and he ain't run a scheme since we dug up Allen Kincaid's empty grave. I think all them pickled pigs feet and hog jowls are catching up to him. He's been looking a little peaked."

"That's not good for a man his size and age," agreed Enos, wishing now he hadn't brought it up.

"Well...don't be surprised if you don't see a lot of him," he said. "Lulu's made him cut back on countin' the county's money. On account of all the germs on them green backs, she says."

Enos turned towards him, deciding to broach the subject which had been on his mind for so long, now that Rosco couldn't run off. "Sheriff...I want to thank you. For all you did for Daisy, while I was...she told me how you helped her."

Rosco didn't answer, staring straight ahead at the road for so long that Enos finally gave up and turned away.

"You ain't supposed to talk about that, dipstick," he muttered, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't hardly do nothin' anyhow, it was all Daisy. That girl...," he sniffed, and swiped at his eyes. "You know, she's the one who put all these gray hairs on my head, though I suppose I might have given her a few, too."

"She couldn't have done it without you, Rosco."

He shrugged. "She's alright," he allowed, "for a Duke."

With a grin, Enos turned back to the window and watched the scenery as it flew.

Bo, Luke, and Uncle Jesse had spent the morning listening to Daisy's account of all that had happened with herself and Enos, starting with their escape and staying at Jack's cabin until they made their way back to Georgia and the Gold Club. The boys hung on her every word - after all, it was the greatest adventure any of them could remember a Duke having. Afterwards though, she felt tired and grouchy, lost without Enos beside her to add his part to their story.

They had not asked about the elephant in the room, even though their eyes had strayed to her ring several times as she spoke. She remembered what Enos had told her, that Uncle Jesse must have noticed his and told them not to ask about it - at least not right now. Deciding it might be funny to see which of her cousins cracked first, she resolved not to say anything either.

That had been this morning, when she thought she would be going home, and before the doctor had come in and told them about the 48 hour rule for surgery involving general anesthesia.

"I feel fine!" griped Daisy, looking accusingly at her uncle and cousins in turn. "You wanna see how small the cut is?"

Luke turned away as she threatened to show them. "Good grief, Daisy! No one wants to see it."

"They did take out some of your innards," Bo reminded her, with a smirk, "even if it only left a little scar."

"I'd heal better in Hazzard than here," she pouted. "I won't sleep a wink tonight worrying about Enos. Wipe that goofy grin off your face, Bo Duke."

Uncle Jesse patted her hand. "Well, now, Daisy, I'm sure he'll be fine. He and Rosco left out about an hour ago, so they should be halfway there by now. You can call the station and talk to him this afternoon."

"I know," she sighed. "It's just...sometimes things bother him that didn't used to." Like the fluorescent lights of the Walmart in Pratt, Kansas. He'd been healing, slowly, but going home was a different story. Of the three of them, she thought Luke might come the closest to understanding.

"I talked to him last night, Daisy," said Uncle Jesse, "he knows we're here for him, whatever he needs."

She nodded, thinking that Enos would never ask for anything. It wasn't his way.

The miles clicked by as the sun rose in the sky, until finally Rosco turned down Route 441 north of Central City. Enos' eyes drank in the red clay and the yellowed fields of corn and beans until, about two miles past Eagle Rock, they began to come upon many cars parked along the road. Enos, not one for surprises, felt his heart beat faster. As they pulled into town, crowds of people lined the road, cheering as Rosco drove past. Several held up signs which read, "Welcome Home Enos!" and "We Love Enos!". A little girl with brown pigtails jumped up and down with a sign proclaiming "Enos Is My Hero!"

"Sheriff, what's goin' on?"

Rosco slowed the car to a crawl and turned to him, an embarrassed expression on his face. "Nothin bad, Enos. It's just..." he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Everybody's been real excited that you're coming home," he explained. "They never gave up on you, you know, even back when the state had all their so-called evidence." He frowned at the memory. "All the newspapers and TV people stopped asking questions here 'cause all they could get out of people was that you were innocent."

Enos almost told Rosco to turn the car around. "I don't want this! I don't need -"

"But they do, Enos. They need a chance to show you that they care about you, and it couldn't be a more perfect day for it, neither."

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," he said, realizing how he sounded. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It's just...I'm not the same person they remember, is all."

Rosco smiled, sadly. "I don't think any us reckoned you would be, Enos," he said, "but that don't matter. Besides, don't you know what day it is?"

Enos' shook his head.

"It's the Fourth of July, you dipstick."