Life Ain't Always Beautiful
Chapter Nine: Missing You
Everyone knows that when your name is called out over the intercom at school, you're either in trouble or somethin' bad has happened. I naturally thought that I had gotten into some sorta trouble. Daddy picked me up in silence. I had never seen him so quiet. He just stared ahead at the road. It was strangely eerie, and I couldn't help but think that something had gone terribly wrong.
"Daddy? What's wrong? You're scarin' me," Chelsea said to break the silence as the two drove down to the hospital.
Bo didn't respond right away. It took him a minute to tell her, "Chelsea, honey---um . . . there's been an accident."
Chelsea's eyes widened. "Accident? What kind of accident? Was it Aunt Ali? Did Uncle Rosco have another attack?"
Bo blinked a few times and wiped the corner of his eyes with his shirt sleeve. "No, baby, it's um---it's your Aunt Evie."
Chelsea blanked out for a few minutes, giving Bo permission to continue. "Um, she was in the bank when---when---well someone came in to rob it, and---your aunt got in the way and---"
Bo's words trailed off, not completing the sentence. Chelsea already knew what had happened. In complete and total shock, she sat up in her seat and stared out at the road. Tears came to her eyes and they rolled down her face.
"H-how's Uncle Rosco?" she asked in a quivering voice, afraid to speak too much in fear of breaking down into sobs.
"He---he's not so well, Chelsea. He hasn't stopped cryin' since it happened."
"It's not fair," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "She wasn't sick or anything. An' she was only trying to stop that stupid robber."
"I know, baby, I know."
I wanted to ask so many questions. Like, why did Aunt Evie think she had to be heroic and stop a bank robber? Why did the robber think they had to kill her? Who's gonna take care of Uncle Rosco now?
Everyone was at the hospital already when we arrived. Uncle Luke was holdin' Aunt Ali as she cried. She was sayin' something like, "We may not have gotten along at times, but she was still my sister!". Jesse, Lizzy, and Rachel were off to themselves. I saw Lizzy cryin' and Rachel was huggin' her while runnin' a hand through her hair comfortingly. Jesse was sittin' down with his face down in his hands. Daisy and Enos were tryin' to console Uncle Rosco, who was sittin' down and cryin' to himself. He looked as if he'd aged twenty years. It was awful.
The funeral took place three days after that. As if it God had planned it that way, it rained during the services. It was so dreary, everyone wearing black, in somber moods, the dark clouds overhead crying out tears just like the rest of us. Uncle Rosco hadn't said a word since the day at the hospital. A few times a day, however, he would break down into tears at any random moment. I stood beside him during the funeral and held his hand, but I'm not sure if he noticed. I'm concerned that his health is getting worse 'cause of the depression he's going through. I've taken it upon myself to make sure he takes his heart medicine. Turns out I was right in diagnosing that he had Coronary Heart Spasms. I hope he doesn't have a full-fledged heart attack over this.
Cousin Cooter is supposed to be dropping in when he comes through after a shipment. He said on the phone he would take a week off to stay with us and then he'd have to be back at work. He was real upset when he heard about Aunt Evie. He said she was his favorite cousin, and that he wished that he could've been there for her the way that she was always there for him. This week is gone by so fast. So strange, I would've thought it'd go by slowly...
Rosco was sitting in the front porch swing that Bo had at his house. He had spent most of his evenings sitting there in silence, gazing out at the yard, the driveway, the surrounding woods---as if he half-expected Eve to pop back to life and come walking up or something. It was so hard to get through the day without someone to get through it with.
He heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps came towards him, but he didn't shift his eyes over to look. The swing creaked as the added weight of another body sat down beside him.
"Hi, Bo," he said without even knowing that it was Bo yet. It was the first thing he'd said in days.
"Hey," Bo said quietly, leaning back against the swing. He looked out at his yard and took in a deep breath, not really knowing how to start things off.
"Bo?" Rosco asked, sparing the younger man from having to come up with something to say. "When Rachel died---how'd you get through it?"
The question was slightly expected, yet at the same time slightly unexpected. Bo had a feeling that the question would come up sooner or later, he just hadn't counted on sooner. He stretched his legs out and sighed. "Well, Rosco---I'll admit, it took me a while to get over her death. But the thing that kept me goin' was Chelsea. I remembered that Chelsea was a part of Rachel---that she was someone that we had created together and she seemed to make our love stronger. When Chelsea was born and had those problems of hers, we stuck through it and even that made us stronger. So when Rachel died, it was like half of me had died too. But I remembered Chelsea had also lost half of herself as well, so I bonded with her more for that reason and that kept me going on."
"Ya miss her?"
"Yeah," Bo responded immediately. "Every day."
Rosco looked like he was going to start crying again. "Y'know, when we first met---I think she was kinda scared of me." He chuckled to himself. "Can ya imagine that? Scared of me. I didn't think she'd gimme a second thought, seein' how I was so much older than her and an idiot to boot." He sighed deeply and wiped his eyes. "I still don't rightly know what I ever did to deserve her."
"Ya loved her. That's enough reason."
"Yeah . . . I guess."
"Rosco? You ain't gonna---I don't know---you're not gonna go hurt yourself are ya? Chelsea's worried ya might."
"I'm hurtin' enough as it is, Bo. Anything I do to myself physically can't compare to what's goin' on emotionally. But no, I'm not gonna hurt myself."
Bo patted him softly on the shoulder before getting up and going back inside the house, leaving Rosco at the swing. Bo knew that he wouldn't come in until it became to dark to see anything.
God? Can people die of broken hearts? Uncle Rosco's so sad 'cause of Aunt Evie goin' away. I hear stories all the time 'bout folks losin' the will to live or dyin' of broken hearts. Are they true? I hope they're not, but just in case they are---could you maybe help Uncle Rosco find his way around heaven so he can find Aunt Evie? He'd be so sad if he got there were she was an' then not be able to find her amongst all those people. He's not very good with directions, so maybe you could give him an angel when he gets there to show 'im around. That would help him out alot. Tell Aunt Evie that I'll try to keep an eye on him for her while he's still here with us. Okay, I think that's all for now. In Jesus' name I pray---Amen.
Isabella had been observing the times of days that the townsfolk went into and out of the Hazzard County Bank. She had been watching from a distance to see when the least busiest time was. That was when she pulled it---pulled the robbery that is. No, she hadn't been lying when she said she was going home to Louisiana, but what she failed to mention was that she was going cross-country robbing the small town banks that she passed on her way home. The BMW she had stolen almost two weeks back, although painted a different color, was starting to make her uneasy. It had an oil leak that had evolved sometime during her stay in Hazzard and it was sure to have a left a trail at the bank when she made her getaway.
After it was all over with, the plan was to stick around in town for a while so not to draw too much attention. A drifter that stays in town only before and after a bank robbery is the ultimate suspect, so she learned from experience to stick around for a while afterwards. She just couldn't wait to get back home and use the money she'd been stealing to help build up her shipping business to transport illegal drugs across the Gulf to the different islands.
If only that stupid blonde woman hadn't gotten in her way. Things would have been much smoother if she had only kept her distance and obeyed orders. Isabella never meant to kill her; truth be known, she'd never had to kill anyone during a robbery. But that day had been an exception and it made her angry. Angry that she was starting to become to weak to control some simple-minded civilian into sitting down and shutting up while she snatched money from them. She couldn't slip up now, not when they were going to be after a thief AND a murderer.