---5---
Bo stared up at the woman. She smiled gently back at him with a warmth he dimly remembered from his aunt Lavinia who had died when Bo was only six. He sat up a little straighter on the bed and then remembered his manners and stood up. "Ya gonna defend me an' Luke?"
"I'm certainly going to try." She told him. Her accent was mid-western and pleasant.
The deputy closed the cell behind her and left them to talk.
"Can I sit down?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She settled down on the edge of the cot, opened her briefcase and pulled out a file. "Is it Bo or Beauregard?"
"Bo." He sat back down.
Another warm smile, this one crinkled her nose. "OK, Bo. I want you to start at the beginning." She said. "And I want you to trust me, so tell me everything."
"So Bo told Sammy about Jesse and the moonshine the Dukes had been makin' an' sellin' to their neighbours for as long as he could remember an' about the 'shine runs he an' Luke had been doin' an' about the last one, that'd landed them in more hot water than a pot full o' crawdads.
An' while Sammy was gettin' the low-down on the Dukes, Jesse was a-pleading with the judge fer the boys' freedom. An' he weren't havin' much luck."
---
"Now Judge John Huckabee of Chickasaw county had a reputation fer bein' hard but fair…'cept on Tuesdays when his wife's momma came fer supper. Andy Roach told the Judge he wouldn't lay no objections to the boys bein' bailed but ol' John had seen a lot of moonshiners in his time and didn't care much for ol' Ridge Runners like Jesse, on account of his bein' kicked out o' that association way back in 1937 for makin' bad 'shine. So he set bail at two thousand dollars apiece an' that ain't rainy day money. That's a monsoon."
Jesse made his way down the steps of the court house feeling ten years older than when he'd walked up them. Daisy followed him, with Andy at her side.
"I'm sorry, Jesse." Andy said.
"What are we gonna do?" Daisy asked.
Jesse took a breath. "We're gonna see Bo. I just wish we'd a had some good news for him."
---
All through Bo's story Sammy had been taking notes in a small pad, occasionally asking questions on the details, like how much 'shine there was and how it was hidden. When Bo finally came to the end, they talked some more about the legal issues and the things the judge would take into account when it came to the trial. Bo listened to her advice.
"OK," she said finally, getting up. "I have to visit your cousin and let him know I'm defending you both and go through everything." She smiled, "and you're-"
"Going ta the City of Atlanta Jail."
Bo went white at the sheriff's voice.
"Sheriff Edward Thomas Little of Chickasaw County. Ya'll remember him, don't ya?"
Sammy put herself between Little and Bo and straightened up. She barely came up to the sheriffs' shoulders.
"Sheriff, I hardly think that's necessary. He's just a boy."
He bent over her, glaring down with his mirrored sunglasses.
"Legend has it ol' Ed sleeps in those shades. He takes a shower in them too."
"He's a criminal."
Sammy snorted. "I see the word liberal isn't in your dictionary."
He held out some papers, which Sammy reluctantly took. "Transfer orders came through on the wire this morning. Ya got a problem with that, take it up with the judge. But its Tuesday, so I wouldn't reckon on yer chances."
She turned to Bo. "I'll do whatever I can to get you and Luke out, all right?" She promised.
Bo nodded, but didn't trust his voice.
Sammy smiled at him and squeezed his arm before turning to leave.
"Um…Ms Davies?"
She turned back. "Call me Sammy."
"Tell, er, tell Luke, um…" He looked down at his feet. "…That I didn't mean fer any o' this ta happen an' I'm sorry?"
Sammy touched his arm. "If everything you told me about your cousin is true, then he knows that." She said gently. "But I'll tell him."
As she left the cell, Sheriff Little came in and began cuffing Bo. He'd only got one wrist locked when the sound of a commotion outside the jail room echoed through the door.
"Dang it, the only thing sharp on me is ma tongue an' if ya don't let me see ma boy, I'll start a-usin' it!"
Bo's head came up at that familiar voice and Sammy saw a grin break across the young man's face for the first time. She silently vowed to do everything she could to make sure it stayed on there. The world needed that smile.
Jesse came barrelling in with a deputy at his heels, still trying to search him. Sammy smiled. This must be the famous Jesse Duke Bo had been telling her about.
Bo confirmed it a split second later. "Uncle Jesse!"
Sheriff Little wasn't too happy with the look of thunder Jesse gave him as he pushed into the cell and growled low in his throat like a sore gundog. Jesse pulled Bo into his arms, hugging him tight. Sammy watched wistfully.
"Mr Duke," Little snapped, "this boy is under arrest an' I-"
"Yes, about that, sheriff," Sammy cut in, earning her a growl this time. "I need to see the arrest records before I go, to make sure this young man and his cousin were given their full Miranda rights."
Little's lip curled up.
Jesse gave Sammy a big smile, recognising that she was buying them time.
Sammy stared at Little. "Now please."
The sheriff gave Bo a hard look. "Five minutes." He said before leading Sammy away.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Bo." Sammy told him. "Sooner if I can." She began to follow Little, pausing only to smile at Jesse. "Nice to meet you, Mr Duke."
Jesse's eyes twinkled at her, grateful of the minutes she'd bought them.
Alone now, except for the deputy who kept a polite distance, Jesse looked his nephew over. The boy was pale and lacked the energy that seemed to leak from his very pores every moment he was awake. His eyes were shadowed, both from lost sleep and the bruising from the crash.
"How ya holdin' up?"
"I'm OK, Uncle Jesse." He told him, but wouldn't meet his eyes. "Is Luke all right?"
"He's fine. Worried 'bout you though." Jesse looked at his youngest charge. "I was worried 'bout ya too."
"Luke's the one in hospital."
"You're the one in jail." Jesse laid a hand on Bo's arm. "We're find a way to get ya out, son, both of you. Me an' Daisy an' Cooter…an' I got me a good feelin' about that little lady there too."
"Sammy." Bo raised his head, wishing his eyes weren't wet. "She's a public defender."
"Andy said she's the best an' seein' how she handled that sheriff, I'd say he were right."
Despite Bo's best efforts, a tear tracked down his cheek. Jesse got out his hankie and wiped it away. "I know things are bad Bo, but the Good Lord is lookin' out for ya." He told him. "He brought ya cousin home safe from Vietnam an' he sent you younguns to me fer a Purpose, so put ya trust in Him."
Another tear rolled down Bo's cheek.
"Now there's a couple a things I want you to hear 'fore ya go." Jesse used the hankie again. "The first is, you're a Duke an' I want ya to walk in that place with ya head held high, ya hear?"
"Yes, sir."
Jesse's voice wavered. "The second is that I love ya an' I'm proud of ya."
Two more tears spilled and Jesse dabbed them away before pulling Bo into another hug. He held the boy for a long moment. Then he gently pulled back and tucked the hankie into Bo's shirt pocket as if to say there should be no more tears.
Sheriff Little strode back in the cell. He glared at Jesse and began cuffing Bo.
"I'll see ya real soon, Bo."
Bo nodded, swallowing his tears and keeping his head high, just like he promised. Then he was led away.
---
"Mr Duke?"
Luke looked up from the hand of cards he held. A woman entered. She was in her late thirties, with a neat bob of blonde hair and looked a whole lot friendlier than the last nurse who'd come in. "No I don't need me a bed pan, thanks."
The woman came up to the bed. "I'm not a nurse, Mr Duke." She told him. "Luke, isn't it?"
"Sure."
"I'm your lawyer, Sammy Davies. I've already spoken to your cousin-"
Luke sat forward, "is Bo all right?" He demanded.
She smiled. "He's fine." She assured him, touched by more of the simple concern the Dukes had each felt for the others. "Scared, but he's a brave young man."
There was relief on Luke's face and then he covered it with bravado. "He's a Duke."
"He told me to tell you he's sorry about what happened."
"It ain't his fault." Luke said.
"They're moving him to the City of Atlanta jail."
"What?" Luke cried. "He-he's just a kid!" He looked at her. "You're our lawyer? Well, get me outta here an' in with Bo!"
And as he spoke, the door opened and a doctor walked in. "And here was me thinking I had bad news for you, Mr Duke." He said and held out a form. "I'm releasing you. The deputy here is free to take you to jail."
Luke broke into a smile.
"Bet ya'll never thought you see a man happy about goin' ta jail. They do things different in Hazzard."
---
"That there is the City of Atlanta jail. Impressive, ain't it?"
Bo stared up at the prison as he was led out of the police car. The huge blocks were surrounded by high walls and sectioned by tall wire fences and gates. There was a distinct heaviness to the air, as if the very molecules of oxygen knew they weren't free.
"It's home to over three thousand men, jailed for every crime you can think of an' a few more besides, from grand theft auto to murder. An' now it's home to a Duke."
Two prison officers led him cuffed through the sections. Bo was aware of the sounds of his own footsteps echoing in the massive place. They took him into a room and another officer brought him some plain prison clothes – a blue shirt with a serial number on the breast pocket and dark trousers. He was un-cuffed to get dressed and when he was changed, the officer came back in and took away with his clothes. As the man walked out, he remembered the handkerchief Jesse had given him was still tucked in the pocketand the loss of that small link to home was a crushing weight in his chest.
Then he was taken out and led through the prison. There was low jumble of noise all around, the sounds of thousands of men, constantly battering his eardrums. The guards pointing out areas as they went – food hall, showers, recreational rooms – all the places prisoners were permitted to go. Everything was dull and grey. Bo knew the moment when they reached the cell areas. The noise was louder here, voices coming into focus instead of one indistinct roar. Prisoners yelled and thumped their cell doors as he passed, like hounds scenting fresh blood.
He jumped at some of the catcalls, but he remembered what his uncle had told him. He kept his head high.
The guards finally stopped.
"Here we are." The first one said and nodded into an open cell.
Inside, Bo saw a large man was sprawled on the top bunk reading a magazine. He looked over the pages, right at Bo, sizing up his new room-mate.
"That's Ricky," said the other guard. "Yer be sharin' with him."
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