Author's Notes: Hoo-boy, this one's a doozy! My sincerest thanks to Flynne, Duke Fan 16, and McRaider for letting me borrow snippets of thier stories. See "Deadline", "A Pleasant Walk In the Woods?" and "My Brother's Keeper" for more of thiers. Enjoy!
Chapter 7: The Force of Memories
J.D. Hogg was just sitting down to his early mid-afternoon snack – namely a rack of barbecued ribs and a side of hush puppies – when Rosco entered his office in the sheriff's department, looking (as usual) a mite confused.
"Hey Boss, I just seen the dangedest thing!" the sheriff said without prelude.
Boss looked up crossly – Rosco should know better than to interrupt his early mid-afternoon snack. "What is it, you peabrain? Did the doctor x-ray that thick skull of yours and actually find something in it?"
"Why, why no, Boss, I ain't been to the doctor in three months…"
"Rosco! Just spit it out!"
"Oh, well, oh! I just saw Jesse an' Daisy Duke leaving Cooter's garage, lookin' mighty happy about somethin', and I was thinkin', if the Dukes is happy after I arrested Jesse this mornin', then somethin' must be wrong."
"Well that's what you get for thinking, you dodo! I know the Dukes just left Cooter's, 'cause my Maybelle already called me and let me know! She heard every word – Jesse Duke figured out the loophole in the law we arrested him for, and called on up to Seamus Flynn at the state revenue office to have him come down this afternoon. But Seamus Flynn ain't gonna make it!"
"Oh, he's not? How do you know?"
"Because you're gonna go stop him! If he can't get to the Duke farm today, then he can't file that paperwork, and Jesse Duke goes to state prison!"
"And with him in jail…"
"With him in jail, I can foreclose on the mortgage on the Duke farm, and sell if off at auction to the highest bidder – namely me!" Boss laughed at his own cleverness. "Now, get out there and cover the roads coming from Atlanta! I want you on one, that dipstick deputy of yours on the second, and, oh I don't know, throw down a bucket of glass and nails to keep him from coming in on the third! Just keep him away from the Duke farm!"
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It was 2:15pm, and Jesse Duke was frowning. It wasn't like Seamus Flynn to be late. Something must be wrong. He walked into the kitchen and tried Daisy on the CB.
"Shepard to Bo Peep, Shepard to Bo Peep, you gotcher ears on? Come on."
No answer. She was probably inside at work. Then the CB crackled to life.
"Breaker breaker, Craaaazy Cooter comin' atcha there Shepard, somethin' goin' on?"
"I'm not sure, Cooter. Seamus hasn't shown up yet, and I'm a little worried."
"Well if that's all, Uncle Jesse, I can fix that for ya! I'm out here on the Hatchapee Road with Mr. Flynn right now, makin' tracks fer your place. Seems Mr. Flynn had a little tire trouble, on account of a line o' glass and nails laid across the road."
"Now who would do a thing like that?"
Cooter looked in his rearview mirror to see Rosco pull into view, lights flashing and sirens wailing. "I'll give you three guesses, but you're only gonna need one! It's gonna take a bit to shake him, the way he's drivin'. We'll be at your place in a jiffy, Uncle Jesse. I'm gone." He hung up the mike and turned to his now-reluctant passenger. "You'd best put that seatbelt on, Mr. Flynn, this is gonna get rough!"
Cooter floored the gas and his tow truck roared off. Fortunately he hadn't towed Flynn's car along as well – he'd heard Jesse and Daisy's story earlier and understood the need for haste, so he'd offered to take Flynn straight there and to fix the tires while he was at the Duke farm. The heavy truck could only move so fast, though, with Rosco in hot pursuit close behind. It took all of Cooter's skill to keep Rosco from cutting him off or running him off the road, but he refused to be stopped. The sheriff was still breathing down his neck as he pulled off at the gate for the Duke farm, and parked right behind him in front of the farmhouse.
"That's it, Cooter Davenport! Freeeeze!" Rosco cried as Cooter and Flynn both climbed out of the truck.
Then Seamus Flynn stepped up to bat. "Sheriff, what is the meaning of this?.!" he demanded angrily., walking around the front of the truck.
Rosco lost his delighted expression, taken aback. Trying his best to look dignified, he answered, "The meaning of this is, I am arresting this miserable excuse for a mechanic for moving violations, reckless endangerment, and evading a police officer!"
"The only one being reckless out there was you!" Flynn retorted, "I've never seen such irresponsible driving from a sheriff! Why, Mr. Davenport was just doing his best to get me to an appointment on time, and it's getting later by the minute! Now, if you'll excuse us!" He turned and walked towards the front door, where Jesse stood waiting for him. Cooter smiled to Rosco before following him inside, leaving Rosco to sputter alone in the driveway.
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"Boss, I'm afraid I've got some bad news."
J.D. Hogg was in the middle of his late mid-afternoon snack at the Boar's Nest. He glared up at his sheriff, who held his hat in hand, and set the chicken drumstick down. "Oh yeah? What'd you do this time?"
"Well, Boss, ah, Cooter got away from me, and got Seamus Flynn to the Duke farm. He's going over the place with Jesse Duke right now."
Boss banged a drumstick-laden fist in the table. "Rosco! I thought I told you to keep him away from there?.!"
"Well, yeah, but, you did, and I, ah…"
"Nevermind!" Boss silenced him. "It don't make no matter anyways. Even with Flynn, Jesse Duke will never be able to come up with that money by five o'clock Monday! And then you can arrest him…"
"And the Duke farm is yours?"
"…And the Duke farm is mine!"
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Seamus accompanied Jesse into town with the paperwork, to make sure everything went smoothly. Jesse wasn't worried about the paperwork, though. He was worried about the back taxes. Seamus was as fair a man as every worked for the state, and Jesse couldn't argue with his assessment, but the final value of the property came out much higher than it had been back when Jesse first took out that mortgage from Boss Hogg nigh twenty-five years ago, to pay for the funerals for three brothers and their wives. Between the indoor plumbing, the higher crop yields, and the many improvements Bo and Luke had made to the house and barn over the years, the Duke farm was worth half again what Jesse had claimed on his taxes all these years, and that left a mighty big sum to pay.
The clerk in the county offices confirmed this. "That leaves a grand total of $16,070.84, Jesse," he said, after studying Jesse's tax forms and running some calculations. "Three-quarters of it goes to the state, and the rest, to the county." He handed Jesse a form summarizing the figures with a meek expression. Like every man in Hazzard, he knew just what sort of scams Boss Hogg ran, and how the Dukes usually ended up on the short end of it – but he couldn't risk his own job to say anything.
"Thank you, Sam," Jesse said, looking over the form. Where on earth would he get sixteen thousand dollars by Monday? Flynn put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well, Seamus, we better get you over to Cooter's to get your car. Thank you for your help."
"I just wish I could do more, Jesse," the revenuer apologized.
Luke quietly opened the door to the room, stepped in, and shut it behind him with a soft click. He didn't want to disturb his sleeping cousin, and he didn't particularly want to be seen. His eyes were red and puffy, his neck and shoulders ached, and he felt so completely drained that curling up under a rock and sleeping seemed like a real good idea just now. No such luck, though.
"Izzatchoo, Luke?" came Bo's sleepy voice through the darkened room, muffled by his pillow.
"Yeah, it's me. Go on back to sleep, you don't have to get up yet."
Bo stretched and sat up, switching on the lamp. "Nah, I'm up. What time is it?"
Luke came out of the bathroom, flicking water off his face and hands. "A little after six. You hungry?"
Bo grinned and found his boots. "Do you even need to ask?" Evidently he was feeling better, too.
"How 'bout that diner again for dinner?" Luke opened up the room safe and pulled a few more bills from their dwindling supply, folding them and tucking them in his pocket.
"Sounds great!"
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Luke was quiet over dinner, but then again, Luke had been quiet all day, so Bo didn't really see any change. Their waitress was an older woman with a tired look and a wedding ring, so the blond had no one to flirt with. Instead, he commented on some of the sights they'd seen that day, while Luke gave short replies here and there as needed. Bo was working on finishing off his French fries when a question occurred to him.
"So, what'd Pauline want, anyhow?"
"Oh, just to talk," Luke shrugged. He was still working on his burger, and slowly at that.
" 'bout what?"
"This and that."
Bo knew when he was being blown off, so he stopped questioning and looked down at his plate, intent on his food. Luke noticed and sighed.
"Look, Bo, there's some things I just can't talk about, especially not now. It's nothing against you - you know I trust you with my life, even. Alright?"
Bo looked up, slightly mollified. "Yeah, I guess."
After dinner, they were walking back out to the car when Bo suggested driving back across the river, to see the Mall again. The sunlight was fading, and Pauline had said the monuments were brilliant at night, lit up against the black night air. He was surprised when Luke readily agreed, and climbing into the car, they were off.
At the Mall, they strolled along amiably as night settled in, watching the activity around them, passersby and tourists. A Japanese family asked Luke to take their picture at the Lincoln Memorial, brightly lit despite the dark. Bo caught the eyes of a group of college girls on vacation after graduation, and they stopped and talked for a little while. Eventually Luke prodded him and motioned that they had to go. The girls pouted at their departure, but soon found something else to laugh about once the boys had left. That was when Bo noticed how tired Luke looked, and remembered that while he had slept half the day, Luke had spent the morning worried at his bedside in the hospital, and that Luke had agreed to come out here at his request. He stopped and affected a yawn.
"Hey Luke, why don't we go on back? We've got a long day tomorrow, an' I'm still kinda tired."
Here came Luke's worried eyes again. "Sure, Bo," he agreed, looking his cousin over. He didn't look that tired, but Luke wasn't about to refuse.
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Back at the hotel, neither Bo nor Luke wasted any time getting ready for bed, brushing teeth, and saying goodnight. Luke set the wake-up call for 9:30am, just in case. Bo found some more aspirin – he'd packed it for Luke, actually – and then both boys were in bed. Luke was sound asleep in minutes, Bo not long after, though neither slept soundly for long.
Luke was running through the jungle, rifle in hand, helmet strapped under his chin. His comrades were fanned out to the left and right, pursuing a fleeing enemy after a brief skirmish. He knew it was a dream – he was almost used to these kinds of dreams by now, if a man can get used to reliving a nightmare. He knew it was an ambush, but he could shout no warning. At the treeline, enemy fire erupted from the tall grass in the field, halting the Marine charge. The air was hot and thick with gunfire, screams, smoke, blood. Luke raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired, hitting his target once and again. One man less to fire back.
There was a rumbling sound to his left – that was new. He turned and saw a truck coming up the road, a green troop transport truck, with a familiar driver at the wheel in a red cap. The mines! Luke's scream was drowned out by the explosion as the mines he'd buried on the road a week ago tore the truck and driver apart. He turned back to the field at another shout that caught his ear, and saw Daisy running across the field towards him. Then he heard the whine of the planes approaching, and Luke watched in horror as it burst into a wall of napalm fire, Daisy somewhere within it. Then he was running, running back through the trees. Oh God, oh God. He tripped and went sprawling, and turned to see he'd tripped over a green-fatigued body. Luke crawled up and turned the body over, and it was Bo, his honey-blond hair oozing with blood, his blue eyes never to open again. A hand touched Luke's shoulder, and he looked up - it was Rob.
"It's alright, Luke," Rob said.
Then a rumbling shook the jungle, and a great gash opened up in the earth at Rob's feet, swallowing him whole. The earth closed again, and the gunfire and shouts resumed, and Luke was truly alone.
Same as the night before, Bo woke when he heard his cousin talking, calling in his sleep. In the dim moonlight peering through the blinds, Bo could see him tossing about, and a knot of pain formed in the younger Duke's stomach. Luke had made him promise not to try to wake him again, no matter what, and it killed Bo to lie there and listen to his older cousin's suffering without doing something. He forced himself to lay still and close his eyes, to go back to sleep, and he nearly succeeded when he heard another odd sound. He sat up and looked over again. Luke was still now, his back to Bo, curled in a tight ball, and he shook with shuddering breaths.
That was it. Bo pushed aside the light blankets and got up, walking around both beds to peer down at his cousin. "Luke?" he asked softly.
His thoughts were confirmed when Luke looked up at him with tear-flooded eyes, quiet sobs renewing at the sight of his younger cousin. Bo sat down at the edge of his bed and pushed aside the pillow, sliding in behind Luke in its place and gathering his cousin into his arms. Luke relaxed against him and sobbed harder as Bo held him tight, his back to Bo's chest. He clutched Bo's protective arms, for something to hold onto, and Bo could feel wet tears running off Luke's cheek onto his skin. Bo closed his eyes, listening to the tormented sounds while a hundred memories ran through his mind.
Bo, age 3
Luke watched his cousin from across the yard as the small boy of three years old ran around by the chickens clapping his hands and trying to scare them off. Uncle Jesse had told him a million times not to play with the chickens or he could get hurt, but Bo never listened to anyone, even at three years old.
"Bo quite torturin' the chickens!" Luke called out to his youngest cousin. It wasn't until he heard his cousin's scream of terror that Luke whipped around to see his cousin being chased by the family goat Bill. "Bill no!" screamed Luke as he rushed towards his young cousin, the three year old tripped over a root sticking out of the ground and began to sob openly, screaming out Luke's name.
Luke zipped over to his younger cousin, grabbing the boy as hard as he could and covering him as the goat rammed right into Luke's back. Luke cried out in pain, as his cousin beneath him continued to scream and cry.
Katie came from the house stunned, "Dear God," she ran over to the goat and quickly grabbed him, roughly pulling him away from the two crying little boys. Luke was protecting his cousin with all he had, as he cried, and he had long gashes down his back from the goat's horns.
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Bo, age 6
It was well past midnight when Luke woke up to the sound of sniffling from Bo's bed.
"'Smatter Bo?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.
"I had's a nightmare." Bo said. Luke yawned. Tossing his covers off slightly, he patted the bed next to him. A second later, Bo was curled up in a ball against Luke. Throwing the covers over him and Bo, he wrapped his arm protectively around Bo. The young boy sniffled as he leaned into his cousin for warmth and protection.
"Luke?"
"What?"
"I's scared."
"I'll protect ya."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Now get some sleep." Luke said.
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Bo, age 22
Bo was cold. At that moment, it seemed to him that he had never been so cold in his life. The green and white water was tearing past him, pulling constantly on his body, bleeding his strength away with every passing second. His arms were burning fiercely and his chest ached as he struggled to breathe. The chill of the water hit him like a kick to the chest, and it was getting harder and harder for him to hold his head above the racing torrent. I can't do this much longer… Fear wrapped his pounding heart in a grip even tighter and colder than the water that tumbled over him.
"Bo!"
The voice seemed to come from far away.
"Bo!"
"L-L-Luke?" With great effort, Bo lifted his head and saw his cousin looking down at him.
Luke felt a rush of relief as he finally came alongside Bo and felt his cousin's hands beneath his chilled fingers. He reached out and slid his hands under Bo's arms. "Bo, you're gonna—gonna have to let go!" he said. Bo squeezed his eyes closed and didn't answer. "Bo, come on!" Luke urged. "I gotcha…grab onto me, put your arms around my neck." In a sudden moment of fear, Luke thought that Bo might be too frightened—or too far gone—to listen.
Bo was frightened. The cold water had left him weakened and numb, and his mind felt sluggish. He could barely feel Luke's arms around him. If he budged an inch, he knew he'd fall. How could Luke possibly hold him up? But his cousin was telling him to let go, and Bo trusted him implicitly. With a sudden burst of strength, he tore his left arm away from the branch and flung it over Luke's shoulder.
For one terrifying instant, Luke was afraid that he couldn't hold on to him, but Cooter and Jud lowered him down a few more inches and he was able to slide his hands all the way beneath Bo's arms and behind his back. He clasped his hands together, locking his cousin in the strong circle of his arms.
"That's it, Bo," Luke said encouragingly. "One more, you can do it." Bo didn't hesitate this time. He let go of the tree entirely and wrapped his other arm around Luke's neck. Luke felt the strain in his water-chilled muscles as he bore Bo's full weight around his shoulders, but he clenched his jaw and held onto his cousin like grim death.
"He's got 'im, Jud!" Cooter crowed. "Pull 'em up, quick!"
And now Luke needed him. "Shhh, Luke. It's alright. I'm here. I'm right here."