Chapter 24

Thanksgiving Day, 1997 - Hazzard

Life moves on, and so does Hazzard; Thanksgiving Day chores beckoned, and company was coming.

Luke had left out early in the morning without telling anyone where he was going. When he arrived at the farm again mid-morning, accompanied by Sophie and her children, Caleb, who was eight, and Emily, who had recently turned five, his introduction nearly obliterated the news about Enos. Now Bo would have a new story to tell.

Even Bo was silenced, and suddenly on his best behavior, when Annie Poe, casserole dish in hand, appeared at the front door. Rosco P. Coltrane stood on her right with Cooter Davenport on her left, while Flash III waddled on into the house like he belonged there.

"We found this pretty little thing walkin' on the road," Cooter said, beaming. "When she said she was headed here for Thanksgivin' dinner..."

"See, her car broke down 'bout half mile down the road, so Flash an' me said she should ride with us...kew, kew." Rosco cut in.

"You did not. Didn't see her 'til I told you."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Ooo...You..." Rosco mangled his mouth and stuck out his chin to Cooter. "You think you're the beez knees since you been rubbin' elbows with all them grafttin' politicians up there in..."

Uncle Jesse rolled his eyes. "Cooter! Rosco!"

They said in unison, "Yes, Sir." Rosco juggled to catch his hat when it flew out of his hand and before it landed on the floor.

Taking Annie's arm, Jesse led her away from the bickering twins. He patted her forearm and whispered, "Don't' worry, darlin'. We'll set you far away from them two yahoos."

"I don't mind, Mr. Duke. They are both very sweet."

"Miss Annie," he said, scratching his head, "I don't believe I ever heard Sheriff Rosco described as 'sweet' b'fore."

Daisy waited until Annie and Uncle Jesse made it into the parlor before she grabbed Rosco around the neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I saved the turkey neck just for you," she said.

"Oh, Daisy, thank you. That's my favorite. You know, ooo, you've always been my favorite Duke. Hey, Cooter, did you know Daisy's got Doctor in fronta' her name now?" Rosco blushed and tittered as she led him into the parlor.

Cooter's eyes widened, and he sneaked a peek out the window for those porcine aviators that hadn't shown up in D.C.

"Daisy," Bo said when he pulled her aside, "What's she doin' here?"

"What's who doin' here. You mean Sophie? Weren't you listening when Luke said they were gettin' married, Bo?"

"Not Sophie. Her...Annie."

"Not sure. Wait. I bet it's because she was invited." Daisy was enjoying this.

"Well, who in tarnation invited her?" He tried to keep his voice low.

"I did." Daisy gave him a mischievous smile and was already walking into the kitchen with Bo following close behind, trying not to draw attention to the fact he was practically chasing her.

"Wha'd ya' go an' do that for?"

"Why shouldn't I, and what's it to you if I asked Annie to come for Thanksgiving?"

"I, well, I..."

"I, well, I...you havin' trouble with your words today Bo?" Ignoring his silent, red-faced protest, she called into the parlor, "Hey, everybody, dinner's ready!"

About halfway through the meal, Rosco got up from the table. "Ya'll don't go anywhere, cuz' I got somethin' I gotta' get out of my cruiser." He looked at Flash. "Now, you mind they don't go anywhere, Flash. I'm gonna' be back with a surprise. Kew, kew."

"Wonder what he's up to?" Luke said, and then turned to Sophie to explain, "Ain't nothin' good ever come of Rosco's surprises."

"Well, don't you worry, Luke," Daisy said, patting him on the shoulder, "for a change, it's nothin' to fret about unless you wanna go and pretty up or something."

"Huh?"

Rosco came back into the room with a hand-held camcorder protruding from his face and waving his left arm like he was Cecil B. DeMille. "Now, when I say 'action' ya'll say 'Hey.'"

"Rosco, what the heck are you doin'?" Uncle Jesse said.

"I'm recordin' this for posterity...well, an' for the dipstick..." Daisy gave him a look. She'd already taken him to task for the 'dipstick' remarks. "I mean Enos," he corrected himself. "See, he gave me this for my birthday. That's why the box was so heavy, ya' see. It was way down at the bottom under all those...Well, it was under other stuff..."

In contrast to his vocal sister, Sophie's son, Caleb, quietly withdrawn through most of the meal, studied the camera with great interest.

Rosco showed him the viewscreen and said, "See...Don't need none o' them cassettes nor nothin.' This here's state o' the art technology. They call this a proto-type 'cause it ain't out on the market yet. Tell you what, you take the camera...and use that button right there. That's the one, and I'll go over there and say Hey to the dip...to Enos."

After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, Rosco, who had exhausted himself, picked up Flash III to leave, 'cause he was havin' Thanksgiving supper with Lulu.' Everyone else was lounging lazily around the parlor or on the porch in a tryptophan coma when Daisy disappeared into her bedroom.

She came back carrying two packages, one she had gift wrapped in white paper and jute, the other wrapped in one of Uncle Jesse's bandanas. When she appeared on the porch, Bo and Annie were sitting on the front porch swing. Regardless of how innocent it looked, Bo immediately sprang to his feet like he'd been shot from Hazzard's memorial cannon.

"Uh, hey, Daisy," he said nervously. "You fixin' to run away from home?"

Daisy was confused at first, then realized he was pointing at the bandana wrapped package. She smiled. Wearing one of Uncle Jesse's old cardigans, the one with pockets that hung nearly to mid-thigh, she didlook like all she needed was a long stick, and the hobo couture would be complete.

"Bo, mind if I steal a few minutes with Annie? You know, girl talk," she said, sticking her hands in the sweater pocket.

"Course I don't. Me and Luke got football to watch anyway." He was a little flustered, as well as more than a little nervous about what kind of girl-talk Daisy wanted to have. He managed to say to Annie, "Glad you could come to dinner. Later, me and Cooter'll go see what's wrong with your car." Then he went back into the house.

Daisy couldn't help staring. Annie was about her height with short, strawberry blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Sitting next to her on the swing, Daisy handed Annie the thin gift-wrapped package.

"What's this?"

"It's something sent by a special friend. Go ahead, open it."

"Your friend won't mind?"

"No, he won't mind. It was meant for you. Besides, my tastes run more to Charlotte Brontë."

"Considering your choices at the library," Annie said, "it doesn't surprise me." She looked a little confused but took the paper off anyway.

"I think you'll like the poem on page forty-three the best," Daisy said, squeezing Annie's hand. "Thanks for comin' to dinner, Annie. Hope we can see more of you in the future."

While Annie eagerly explored the book of Edgar Allan Poe's poetry, Daisy picked up the hobo bundle and set out toward the stream.

After Daisy was out of sight, Bo returned to the porch and found Annie with her head bent over the open book and tears on her cheeks. She closed it when he sat next to her. "Annie, what's wrong? Did Daisy say somethin' to upset you?"

Annie smiled at him through happy tears. "No. Just the opposite."

Bo was both elated and terrified when she leaned in and put her head on his shoulder.

Nearly halfway around the world, Enos and Soonie woke to sunrise when Daisy reached the bank of the stream running behind the farm in Hazzard. It was less than a mile from the house, so the walk there, although brisk, gave her more time for mind wanderings.

One of the larger flat-topped stones offered a perch on which she could breathe in the crisp, clean air. She would only be able to enjoy this peace for a few more months before she would be living in North Atlanta, working on an environmental research project at Emory University.

Kneeling on the stone, she put her hand in the stream to feel the flow of icy water through her fingers. The last time she'd been here, she'd told Uncle Jesse her love for Enos when she was sixteen 'was the most real and true thing she'd had in her life before or since.' It was more true now than ever before, just not in the way either of them had imagined back then.

There are matches made in heaven, loves which last a lifetime, and the "I shall but love thee better after death" kinds of love. And then, there was the Enos and Daisy kind of love that defied definition. 25

Back on the bank, she drew a box of matches from the sweater pocket and laid the package on the ground next to some stones previously used for a fire pit. After digging a little trench, she lined up some tiny tinder sticks over it, then added a layer of small kindling. She lit the match under the stack and, one by one, burned the missing letters.

The rest would be burned later, all 476 of them. She would remember every word. But this one, the last one, the one rolled into a scroll with a diamond ring to bind it together, she couldn't give up. It was the key she had needed – it told her she could let go and move on.

When she returned to the house, everyone had gone. Bo had driven Annie to her car because it was nearly dark. After calling a tow truck for Annie's car, Cooter had left to see his daughter and her family, and Luke had gone back to the motel to stay with Sophie and her kids. Only Uncle Jesse was still at home, napping in the parlor.

Although she had wanted to talk to him, she didn't want to disturb his rest. He called to her as she started up the stairs.

"Daisy, is that you?"

"Yes, Uncle Jesse." Daisy walked into the parlor and sat next to him on the sofa.

"You smell like smoke, baby girl. What have you been up to?"

"I was down at the stream and built a little fire to keep warm."

"Nights are startin' to git colder. Glad you had the sense to come back b'fore dark."

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. After a few minutes, Jesse asked, "You ever gonna tell me what's really goin' on?"

"Someday, Uncle Jesse," she said. "Right now, I need you to trust me and not ask questions I can't answer."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. But there is something I can tell you. Something Enos wanted you to know that I didn't tell the others."

"What is it, sweet girl?"

"He found the place where Uncle Jamie might be buried, and he's gonna visit there as soon as he can."

Daisy left Jesse making a pot of coffee and went to her room, knowing he was thinking about his younger brother, James, who joined the army and was sent to Korea in 1950…and never came home.

She opened the chifforobe, shoving her underwear off the slats on the bottom. Covering it with her unmentionables had been how she kept the boys from getting too curious – until they got older and had to start locking her door when she wasn't there. Now, it was merely a habit. She slid one of the slats across another to reveal her secret hiding place. Before depositing the letter and the ring into their makeshift time capsule, she un-scrolled the paper and reread the words. With Dolly singing in her ear, she said one last goodbye to the past and whispered...

"I will always love you too, Enos. Always."

A/N: As some of you might have guessed, the Dolly Parton Goodbyes are the words written in his last letter, the only one he ever actually sent to Daisy.

Dolly Parton's song, I Will always Love You was written in 1973 as a goodbye (professional breakup) to Porter Waggoner. She reprised it in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas in 1982, as well as being featured in several other movies. Then Whitney Houston recorded the song in 1992 for The Bodyguard. Dolly likes to tell the story of when she first heard Whitney's version: she was driving and was so overwhelmed (believe it or not, it was the first time she had heard Whitney sing it) that she almost wrecked her car.

Although Whitney Houston's version is powerful and definitely a great tribute to Dolly's song, the version that most represents the mood of this story is the Dolly Parton/Vince Gill duet you can find on YouTube (not the live rendition but the one posted by Musicete). It is beautiful and well worth the listen.

References:

(25) "How Do I Love Thee" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning –