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Chapter 5: Partings

If I took the wings of morning
and flew far away from home,
Would you chase me to the sea, love,
Bring me back where I belong?

Oh, I cannot brave the sea, love!
Our distance is too wide.
And my fate's forever planted
on this lonely mountainside.
~the author

Uncle Jesse leaned over and kissed her forehead "Honey, Aunt Lavinia's gone on to Heaven," he said, tenderly, "a long, long time ago."

There existed at that moment, an intricately woven duality, as though the world of dreams and reality had merged - and all of it shellacked with a thin layer of slick horror. Time slowed, the curtains beyond the bed rustled with the breeze of a passing nurse, and somehow she had slipped out of her world and into a twisted fun-house where they expected her to believe that the only mother she had ever known was dead.

The truth hung in the air - she could read it clearly in her uncle's eyes and by the confusion in too-old-Luke's face. She didn't want to cry, but the sobs came anyway as she pressed her face into Uncle Jesse's worn denim overalls.

"But...I just saw her this morning!" she insisted, her voice muffled against her uncle's chest. It felt like yesterday or today, and there was nothing missing between it and the present. She clung desperately to the lingering idea that this was all a dream. People just didn't wake up to find half of their life had passed them by!

Uncle Jesse took his red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her tear stained cheeks. "Dr. Haglen said that the brain can do strange things sometimes," he explained. "Even forget things. Let's give it time to heal."

She studied them once more, and realized they were as much as a loss as she was. She sucked in a jittery breath, hitched with the remainder of unshed tears, and looked at the covers where her feet tented up the covers. They seemed freakishly large and too far away.

"Did it hurt?" she whispered, unable to wrench her eyes back to their faces. "When she died...did it hurt?"

"No, baby. Not at the end."

That evening, while Uncle Jesse napped in the recliner beside her bed and her cousins had gone to supper, Daisy thought about the gap in time between where her memories ended and the present. After lunch, Bo had come to trade places with Luke. The shock Bo being older was easier for her to accept. His face still had the same boyish charm she remembered, and there was a glint in his eye – some trace of mischief, or innocence, perhaps - that felt so familiar that she found herself wanting to ruffle his blonde hair like she usually did.

Bo was also easier to talk to than Luke, harboring as she did foul memories of the latter acting too big for his britches. She needled Bo until he had given up his age, thus extrapolating her own.

She couldn't help but be disappointed. Hadn't she done anything worthwhile? She clearly remembered thinking (just the other day) that thirty meant you were an old lady and she'd expected to be married with a couple of kids by then. Here she was, at 32, with nothing to show for it but a bump on the head. She even lived with her uncle and cousins!

Bo explained that she had been going to the University of Georgia for a year to study Biology. She guessed that was a start, but what had happened to her dreams of becoming a famous singer and traveling the world? Just like every other moonshiner's kid, she'd never gotten out of the hills. On top of it, her family didn't even make moonshine, anymore! Uncle Jesse had told her the whole story from start to finish of why they had closed down the still. His eyes had seemed sad, though, and she wondered if he missed it terribly.

Outside her window, night had fallen and she wished she could see the stars.

Sleep found her at last, still wondering if this was all there was to life and feeling bitterly disappointed by it.

The next day began bright and early with more temperature taking and questions from various doctors before Bo showed up again. "Hey, Daisy, I brought someone to visit you," he said, pointing at the curtain. "I hope you don't mind. He did sorta save your life."

She smirked back at him. "As long as he ain't tryin' to swindle me outta money like you are." The night before, he had claimed she forgot she owed him ten dollars.

"Shucks, Daisy!" he laughed. "You can't blame a guy for trying. Hey," he called to the other side of the divider. "She said she didn't care, so come on in."

A police officer side-stepped the curtain. In his hands, he held a black hat, the brim of which he worked with nervous fingers.

"Rosco..."

Bo stared at her in confusion. "Wait, you remember him?!"

She shook her head, just as bewildered. "I'm not sure why I thought that was his name." She stared at the man. "Is it?"

"Uh, well...yeah... That's my name. I didn't figure on you remembering, since Bo said you...nyhun-" He gave a quirky, nervous murmur, and fell silent.

"I don't understand how I knew," she told him. "You look familiar, I guess, except that's not really it, either." She shook her head. "I can't explain it."

"You know, I was there with you when you had your accident," he said. "Maybe it's because of that. Maybe..." His blue eyes grew misty, and he looked down at his hat. "I'm awful glad you're alright, Daisy, I was worried about you. I'll...uh...I'll go tell Jesse he can come back in."

With that, he flipped the curtain back and hurried away, leaving her alone with a puzzled Bo.

He turned back to her. "That's strange. Wonder what got into him?"

"If you find something that's normal these days," she muttered, "let me know."

On Tuesday morning, Dr Haglen brought the whole family into Daisy's ICU unit to go over the results of her latest MRI scan. Daisy dismissed the findings as inconsequential. She felt fine!

She had decided to pretend her amnesia was just a game. It was only temporary, after all. Someday she'd wake up and everything would be back to normal, and they'd have a good laugh about the time that she couldn't remember who anyone was, or what she'd done for the last twenty five years. Until then, she would ask questions and try to imagine the things she couldn't recall.

Her arm was a different story. After Dr. Haglen left, a different doctor showed up, unwrapped the bandages, and clucked worriedly over it before shuttling her down to the operating room. They needed to get ahead of any infection before it set in and made her sick, they said before they sedated her.

She woke to find herself in a new room - one with real walls and a door with her uncle and cousins sleeping in chairs nearby. Her heart broke to see how haggard and worn out all three of them looked.

"Uncle Jesse," she whispered. "Uncle Jesse!"

He opened his eyes and sat up with a start, glancing about in confusion until his eyes found hers and he smiled. "Hey there, Daisy. How're you feeling?"

"Better than y'all are. You oughta go home and get some sleep."

He stroked the white hair of his beard and looked at her still sleeping cousins, propped uncomfortably in wooden chairs. "I'll be fine, honey," he murmured. "Might send the boys back for a night, though."

"You too, Uncle Jesse," she insisted. "They ain't gonna do nothin' except come and take my temperature every hour, and I'll feel just awful if y'all don't get some rest!"

Instead of answering, he took his pocket watch out and glanced at the time. "Well...it's already six. You'll probably feel like sleeping pretty soon after they give you your pain medicine." He looked back over at the boys, then at her. "Are you sure? I don't mind staying."

"I'm sure...In fact, I'll sleep better knowing y'all are getting some rest in your own beds."

He reached over and smoothed the hair away from her brow. "Alright then, I'll wake the boys and go on home. We'll be back here just as soon as we can tomorrow."

The three of them were dead on their feet as they got ready to leave. After a promise to get plenty of sleep herself and to call them if anything was wrong, they gratefully stumbled out the door, leaving her alone. The silence was nice, and she snuggled down into the quilt Luke had brought her from home (an old, faded one from Uncle Jesse and Aunt Lavinia's bed). Before she knew it, she was asleep.

When she woke, it was morning; the sunlight throwing a long slice of light upon the far wall and down the door. She yawned and stretched her good arm, wishing she could scratch the other one; somewhere deep inside, it itched like crazy. She sighed, thinking she would take another nap before Uncle Jesse and her cousins arrived, and almost closed her eyes again before she noticed that she wasn't alone.

Watching her silently from the chair next to her bed, a skeptical expression on his face, sat a man she hadn't met. Dressed in dark slacks and a button up dress shirt, he wore a gun in a belt holster and a badge beside it.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't see you sitting there." Giving him a contrite smile and a once over, she decided he must be one of the state officers who Rosco said might come to talk about the accident. "Are you here about the guys that shot out the tire? Of my Jeep?"

The Jeep had a name. Dusty? Dottie...no...Dixie! Bo had told her what happened, although she didn't remember why she had been chasing the guys who had shot at her. She supposed it didn't matter.

Frowning, the officer studied her as though she grown an extra head, and she wondered if maybe he was in the wrong room. His eyes met hers – hazel ones, but more green than brown - and he gave her a smile that didn't reach them, like the fake smiles the doctors gave her when they had bad news.

Sure. I reckon you could say that."

"Oh, well, you oughta talk to Rosco about it then," she explained. "He's the sheriff in Hazzard County, and he saw me crash. I don't actually know what happened. That's why I'm in the hospital's Neurology wing. I can't remember anything." She tapped on her head and shrugged her shoulders, apologetically. "But I can tell you what he told me."

He shook his head. "That's alright, I'll talk to him about it later," he said, noncommittally, before narrowing his eyes and switching the subject. "What do you mean, you can't remember anything?"

"Well...I don't know exactly how to describe it. I mean, I don't feel like anything's wrong with me, other than my arm, but apparently I've forgotten the last twenty-five years or so."

He seemed surprised. "Permanently?"

She thought it was an odd question. "The doctors say I'm still healing," she snapped, angrily. He raised an eyebrow at her tone. "Anyway, I'm not sure that's really your business, mister."

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, ignoring her last comment.

She turned her face away from him, her throat tightening with the tears that lay just below the surface. "Canning tomatoes with my Aunt Lavinia," she whispered. "It feels just like it was yesterday." Her eyes closed as she saw the memory once again, then she shook her head to clear it and looked back at the officer. "I didn't even remember she was dead."

"That must have been hard."

"Yeah, it was," she frowned, thinking that the conversation had become far too personal, especially without her family around. She wished he would leave. "Anyway, I'm sorry I can't help you more with the accident. Was there anything else you needed?"

He stood and picked up the black leather jacket draped over the chair, and smiled sadly at her. This time, it touched his eyes. "No, ma'am," he said, politely. "I'm right sorry to have bothered you. I hope you feel better soon."

The door closed behind him before she could even think to ask his name.

She had just settled back into the pillows, trying to angle her poor arm into a comfortable position when Uncle Jesse, Luke, and Bo came in, each looking considerably better than they had the previous evening. The three of them took up perches in chairs around her room when she remembered to tell them about the visitor.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Some police officer was here when I woke up, Uncle Jesse. He left just before you got here. I think he might have been from the State Police. He wasn't wearing a uniform, but he had a badge and a gun. He seemed more interested in me than the accident."

Bo and Luke cast anxious glances at each other before getting up, and Uncle Jesse seemed nervous, as well.

"Uh, Daisy...What did this officer look like?"

She shrugged. "Tall, dark hair, hazel eyes…"

Luke swore softly, and Bo paled.

"Why do y'all look so worried?" she asked. "This is a hospital, no one's going to come in and hurt me here, especially not a police officer."

"Boys," said Uncle Jesse, still staring oddly at her, "Uh... Let's go check and see if he signed in at the registration desk." He herded them towards the door. "We'll be right back, Daisy."

"Oh, okay," she said, unconcerned. "You didn't need to worry about me, though."

Out of earshot down the hall, Bo and Luke began talking at once.

"You boys quieten down," said Jesse. "we don't know anything for sure." He walked up to the nurse's station and leaned heavily on the counter. A young woman looked up and smiled.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"A police officer came to visit my niece while we were out, but she says she didn't know him. Is there a place where he would have signed in?"

"Sure is," she said, shuffling papers around on the desk until she uncovered a clipboard. "You just missed him." She lay the clipboard on the counter, facing them.

At the bottom was the name Jesse feared he would find.

"Uncle Jesse-"

"You two go back and stay with Daisy," he said, cutting off Bo's comment.

"I can't believe, of all people, she didn't know Enos," said Luke. "What the heck are we supposed to tell her?"

"If she asks, tell her we're not sure where the officer was from. That's true enough." Jesse pulled his ratty, red hat from his pocket, straightened the brim, and jammed it on his head. "Then talk about whatever she wants to talk about." He glared at both of them. "Except Enos. If she don't remember him, she doesn't need to know. There ain't no sense in opening that can of worms right now. Hopefully, he'll stop by the farm before he disappears for good this time."

He left them standing in the hallway, hurrying to the elevators as fast as his tired, old legs could carry him. If he didn't catch Enos tonight, he knew none of them would ever see him again.

At a traffic light on the outskirts of Atlanta, Jim and Betsy Norman pulled their Cadillac DeVille alongside a striking, black Ford Bronco XLT with knobby, oversize tires and a heavy-duty winch, bearing all manner of police strobes and spotlights. Silver stripes fanned out across the side, ending with a large "SHERIFF" decal near the back. On the door was a county seal depicting a lighthouse, a huge ship rocked by stormy waves, and a golden evergreen.

Betsy and her husband were always looking for unusual vacation spots now that they had both retired and the kids were gone. Wherever this guy was from, it looked like just the place to spend an interesting couple of days.

"Say, Jimmy?"

"Hmm?" The light changed and the DeVille and the Bronco parted ways as it turned to head north.

"Where in the world is Whitefish County, Michigan?"