Good Ol' Boys
A/N The jumping off point for this story was Rayna's episode 5.09 speech about touring again after giving birth to Daphne. So it's the mid 2000s, Daphne's in the crib, Deacon fully sober and Teddy safely stuck back at home in Nashville because of his travel sickness. Fluff centred musing on what happens when some key Nashies met up with characters from my TV youth, now older and in some cases wiser. Notes from the real world: Actor John Schneider (Bo Duke) did have a spin off country career. Good Ol Boys really comes from Waylon Jennings, and Shenandoah is a wonderful part of the American Songbook, the version that inspired my name check is sung by Suzy Bogguss . Thanks go out to everyone who has clicked through.
Rayna drew a long, deep breath. "Yes Teddy yes, I'm certain I have everything. This tour is only for two weeks and there are these strange places called shops out there. Tandy's gold card can take care of anything!"
They were standing by the tour buses, morning sun tempered by a light breeze. Rayna leant against the bodywork, a twice lifesize image of her own face emblazed upon the coachwork.
"Excuse me," Tandy joshed, "You're the one who is being paid to sing. Daddy is making me take the time out from my annual holiday allocation." She looked down into the carrycot and pulled a face at the squirming baby. "I'm doing this all for you Daphne, no one else."
"Sorry sis, I don't carry money on tour because I'm a Country Diva. Y'all must know that. I read it in The National Enquirer, so it must be true." Rayna gave Teddy a consoling hug, "I wish you had let Maddie come though, she's the one I will miss the most."
Teddy's whispered response was hard and icy, "You know very well why that cannot happen."
"Morning all." Deacon walked languidly from a cab, a guitar case in each hand, the driver struggling with a third and a small suitcase. Teddy pulled Maddie closer to him. Deacon stowed his instruments away and climbed into the first bus, grinning happily at the prospect of being back on the road with Rayna. As he disappeared from view Bucky hoped out of bus two. "Is everybody ready to roll?"
"We will be, just as soon as the guy from Edgehill shows up," said Rayna.
"Well," he replied, "there's been a change of plan. You asked for a new road manager Rayna? You're looking at him, do I pass?"
Cowboy heels tapping the concrete Rayan rushed headlong over to her long time rock and embraced him. "I wanted this to be as smooth as possible," Bucky continued, "besides, it's been a while since I got my hands dirty on the road. The office can wait for a couple of weeks."
"In that case I'll add you to the rota for diaper duty!" He actually took a step back. "Relax Buck, I'm kidding you. Looking after Deacon, that's got to be a heap more trouble than one little baby girl." From inside the vehicle Deacon sat down heavily. Three years clean and she still didn't trust him. Not that he could really blame her after what he'd put her through. From behind tinted windows he watched Rayna give her eldest daughter a goodbye kiss.
Riding a long straight highway on a Sunday morning Rayna rocked her baby as the wheels rumbled beneath her. The steady rhythm caused fragments of lyrics to form in her mind. 'Like a storm you blew in/ left me with no breath inside/ and with the rain you're leavin'/ now all I can do is cry.' Daphne lay there, snuggled still in her arms, warm and soft. Deacon up front, headphones glued in place. Rayna was happy, she felt delighted with how the tour was progressing. So far there had been no major dramas between juggling her performances and being Mom while on the road. There was plenty of support on hand from Tandy and Bucky, while on stage Deacon kept her solid. The cut down tour machine, just two buses and smaller venues was a much needed step back from the high profile shows of her last full tour. A lifetime ago now, before Maddie, before Deacon's rehab sessions had finally kicked in. When the two of them were still a golden couple, and few knew just how thin that plating had rubbed. Now she was connecting with her audience up close every night and loving it. Lost in thought, only gradually did she register how the bus was slowing, it pulled off the road onto dirt, the vibrations waking Daphne who whimpered. As the driver hissed open the door an acrid smell seeped into the cabin. Rayna joined Deacon and the driver at the back of the bus staring at the oily machinery. It meant nothing to her but she guessed from their expressions, little more to the two guys.
"Great," growled Deacon, "broken down in the middle of nowhere."
"I don't suppose this is a scheduled comfort break" Tandy called from the bus, "Because you may like to know Bucky and crew have just driven around that bend ahead of us." Rayna reached for her cell. As she finished the call a police cruiser drew up. The deputy left the roof lights rolling, not that they provided much indication of the incident in the noon sunshine, and not that there was any traffic to worry about anyway. "You folks in need of some help?"
"I think we may be stuck," said Rayna.
"No problem, next town's about 4 miles down the road, garage mechanic there is the best I know. Over the years he's patched up our vehicles many times, when there been a little trouble you understand. I'll get on the radio now."
"Wonderful, you are a life saver. What's you name officer?"
"Deputy Enos Strate at your service." The man looked from the picture of Rayna on the bus to the lady herself, "Miss Jaymes, welcome to Hazzard County." Enos ducked back into the cruiser.
"Cooter can get his truck here in 15," he reported and shifted from foot to foot, "Can I just say it's a real pleasure to help out. I'm a really big fan of yours…" Rayna smiled gracefully, "…Mr Claybourne."
"Huh me? No, you got that wrong, she's one who does the hard work."
Enos blushed, "Oh I enjoy Rayna Jaymes more than well enough, and my wife is always singing along to your records . But the sound you get from your instrument Sir, that really talks to a man." Deacon was now almost as embarrassed as the cop.
Rayna calmed the bromance, "That's so sweet. What's your wife' name? We've got T shirts and CDs somewhere on this bus, I'd love to sign something for her."
"Daisy, and she's the Mayor of Hazzard. You should really meet her in person, she'd love that. While they hook your bus up why don't you come and dine with us at the Mayoral house? The family will be there and there is always plenty of food."
Rayna looked at Deacon, "Well we don't have a show to get to tonight and since we're a bus down…."
The formal dining table was bigger than Lamar's, it needed to be. Sunday lunches with Daddy were occasional trails that Rayna dreaded. The fear Teddy would inflate his ego and make himself ridiculous, or that Maddie would, just by being a normal little girl, do something to set Lamar off, but most of all the constant worry that she wouldn't control her emotions against her father's digs and proclamations regarding her mother. But with Daisy Strate, nee Duke in charge there was none of that. She, Deacon and Tandy had been welcomed, calmed and seated, almost without murmur. Sitting near the top of the table, Rayna and Deacon flanking old Uncle Jesse, as if major Country stars dropped in for a bight to eat at regular intervals. Next to Rayna sat Daisy's two cousins Bo and Luke. While the Mayor and Police Deputy ferried dishes of streaming vegetables, the smells of well home-cooked food filled the room. Rayna was surprised they did not employ outside help.
"Is there anything Tandy and I can do?" she asked.
Daisy stopped, mid route to the kitchen and put her hand to the trim waist of her Sunday skirt suit. Her stylish hair cut only just reached her shoulders, but she was still able to toss it and give Rayna the kind of look that had stopped boys in their tracks since her teens. "Certainly not. You are a guests in this house and will be treated as such, isn't that right fellas" Uncle Jesse nodded his snowy head in approval.
"Yes Ma'am," Bo, the blonde cousin laughed. Daisy's face softened and the light caught the first traces of lines around her eyes.
"I was cooking for these boys and working as a waitress long before I ever achieved City Office, so doing it now is kinda relaxing."
"And we do all the washing up," added Luke, the dark one, a smattering of grey around his temples
"What he means is, they stack the dish washer."
There was a click of thin spiked heel on the porch.
"Was your hands honey," Daisy called, not bothering to turn around. "I'm almost ready to serve the chicken You'll see we have company today."
The girl who entered must be Rayna judged, about fifteen. Fifteen going on twenty three that is. An Avril Lavine hoody worn up despite the heat, partly hid flowing brunette locks and thick coal black eye liner. Country girl short denim shorts, from where curved tanned, catwalk legs stretched, elongated even further by the heels. Shoes that reminded Rayna of the ones that had cost Tandy her first pay cheque as an intern. The short of shoes Rayna would never have been permitted to wear at that age and Deacon never, ever 'got,' even when she was older.
"OK Mom," and the image departed.
"Our daughter Rose," Enos explained.
Soon plates were loaded, Grace was said and conversation resumed.
"Do you boys farm?" Deacon asked.
"Sort of," Luke responded, "But we also invested some of our prize money in a very good place, definitely not one of the old County Boss's hairbrained schemes"
"I used to race NASCAR," Bo supplied
"And he made some country music records," Rose chipped in, "Not as good as you two though."
Deacon's face cracked wide, "That's where I'd see your face. Man, I knew you were familiar from somewhere."
Tandy asked what Luke's part in all of this had been.
"Doing all the hard work, for none of the credit," he replied, "and getting with about 30% of the ladies."
"Now that's just not true," Bo responded, "Well apart from the bit about the women, obviously."
"We've always thought Bo was where Rose got her talent from," said Daisy.
Rayna was intrigued, "Do you sing?"
"And play a bit of guitar" the teen mumbled, suddenly embarrassed, she studied her dinner plate.
"Can we hear some later," Deacon asked softly
"Really?"
"Positive. It would be an honour wouldn't it Ray?"
Rayna pulled herself back from remembrances of her early writing sessions with Deacon, his kindness and skill in nurturing her lyrical talent at the time when it was her voice was propelling her towards the first flush of fame. "Honey, that would be wonderful."
Plates were changed and out came an apple pie, Rayna felt that anything else would have defied some State law.
"I've met Avril," she told Rose, "at a charity event in Chicago."
"No way!"
"Way."
"Wow, what was she like? Did she sing? Who was with her? What was she waring?" and Rayna diligently tried to answer sixteen questions at once.
When Bucky came to the Mayoral House he had good and bad news. "From what I understand your mechanic can get our bus moving again, though not until he gets a part tomorrow. But he did introduce me to the best chilly dogs I have ever eaten in my whole life."
"That'll be the Boar's Nest," said Daisy, "I used to be waitress there and Rose helps out, earning money for that wardrobe of hers she almost wears."
"Mom! I've seen the polaroid's, you weren't exactly a shrinking violet back in your day." The two eyeballed each other in stalemate.
"So what do we do," Rayna asked, "one bus will be a tight, hire a car and follow you guys down?"
Daisy spoke before Bucky, "We may seem the back of beyond to you city types, but Hazzard does have a motel and you and your family Rayna, are very welcome to sleep over here."
"You're so kind but we couldn't."
"Young Lady," Uncle Jesse had found his way out of his chair to join them. "As a Southern gal you must have been taught that the only thing ruder than not offering hospitality to folks who need it, is to refuse it."
Young Lady! Rayna didn't think she'd been called that since 10th grade. Beside her Deacon struggled valiantly to keep a poker face.
Rayna knew when she was beaten, "OK, you're right sir, I'm sorry. Thank you so much, now please tell me what can I do in return?"
"Come down The Boar's" said Rose, "an' maybe sing a couple of songs?"
Rose's bedroom wasn't completely black, a pink carpet that peeking out of the few gaps between bed, dressing table, closet, musical instruments and computer equipment testified to that. Rayna also spied a couple of Care Bears, still on muted century duty at the back of a shelf. She was sitting on Rose's bed next to Deacon while the girl played the final chorus of a pleasant country style song. It was never going to trouble Billboard, but hey you had to start somewhere.
"Sweet," said Deacon.
"That's an old one," Rose replied dismissively, this is what I've been working on recently." She put down the guitar and booted up a 4 track recorder. More staccato acoustic chords, until suddenly vvvrrRRRMMM . A wave of electric static bolted out of the speakers, Rayna flinched, howling vocals joined in, and yet somewhere in the middle a melody struggled to gain control.
"Well," Rayna said, when the track concluded, "That was very…"
"…Intense." Deacon suppled.
"You hate it don't you?"
"No."
"Yes." Their voices collided Rayna shot Deacon a reproaching glance for his honesty.
"But you're songwriters," the girl persisted, "you should understand."
"It's like this," Deacon ploughed on, subtlety was never his strong suit, but when passion took over there was no stopping him, and if Deacon was passionate about anything as much as available women, it was for music. "You could spend an hour taking me through that song and deconstructing it. Then in another hour I could write you a forgery back and you would loath my song. Because if the feeling isn't inside a person they will never be able to make it work. Your tune does nothing for me. But that's only right and proper. Young'ns must have something to piss off us oldies with."
Both Rayan and Rose laughed. The older lady thinking that as a mother of two, she really wasn't the hot young country babe any more. Just when the hell had that happened?
"Take 'Sweetheart of the Rodeo' album?" Deacon continued. "Sold half of nothing when it came out. But no 'Sweetheart' and where Gram or Emmylou have been? "
Rose wasn't sure if she was being lectured at or excused. "Oh Grandad, perhaps you'll like this, but I warn you it's not finished yet."
Back on the acoustic a slow, chord pattern wheeled. The teenager's vocals were sensitive, tentative and inward looking.
"Just good ol'boys…. Since the day they were born…. De dum der dum. Der dum di de dum… Shit I can't find the rhyme." It broke down.
"When that happens to me I push the 2nd line to the end," Deacon said, "it might give you a new take on the verse."
Rayna had been wondering how to give encouragement and an idea had formed, "Honey, If I'm gonna sing at your Boar's Nest tonight, would you do a couple of numbers to warm the crowd up for me? Just make them the Country ones though."
The teen turned crimson. When Bucky showed his face with Daisy; and Deacon announced that he had best get his bag to the motel Rose shot up. "No! I'll go back to the farm tonight, Deacon can stay here, in my room."
"Well aren't you the honoured one," said Daisy "She won't even let me clean this room."
As they left her, Rose was hunched back over the guitar, hair flopping in her face, playing around with 'Good 'Ol 'Boys."
The Nest was quiet, lazy in the mid afternoon heat. The few customers in the place were paying more attention to their food and soda's than the corner TV, that gently burbled re runs of "Who's Line." Deacon and one member of Rayna's stage crew were scurrying about, setting up a couple of mics and an amp for Deacon's guitar. Rayna sat with Enos, she was supposedly planning a set list, though in truth it almost wrote itself. The running order of those Bluebird shows was engrained her mind, Deacon's too. 'Wishing…' 'I Shouldn't Love You…' maybe throw in 'Wayfaring Stranger.' Sitting at a booth table with Bucky was the County Sheriff, glasses half way down his nose, trying not to get more coffee rings onto his paperwork. Rosco P Coltrane had long ago decided that fame and fortune had passed him by and sought the easy life until his pension arrived. Delegating to his deputy while making sure he didn't upset said deputy's wife. Enos made the introductions, "Sheriff and I go way back, to a time when the Duke family were not so friendly with the law."
Rosco smiled, "Yes sirree, she's Lady Mayor now, but Daisy Duke has spent some nights in Hazzard's cells after the Boss made you cuff 'em and stuff 'em Enos."
"Whatever for?" Rayna asked shocked. Enos stared at the floor.
"Well," continued Rosco, "Boss Hogg, my little buddy, he had his own idea on how the law should work."
"And not really a legitimate one," Enos added, "I hated doing some of those things you made me carry out."
"Yes, perhaps you weren't such a dipstick as I thought, but back then the Boss' word was law."
Rayna remembered the two younger male Dukes talking about the old Boss. "What happened to him?"
"Got his fingers burnt in a big property deal," the Sheriff replied, "Went to Mexico for a vacation, never came back. All I got was a postcard 'Rosco – Wish you were here, and I wasn't - J D Hogg.'"
"Which was how Daisy first won the election."
"Boss thought he could play with the big boys and got well and truly screwed by some company in Tennessee, being Country music people, that must be in your neck of the woods. Wyatt Industries they were called, have you heard of them?"
"Vaguely," spluttered Rayne, very glad that Tandy was babysitting at the Mayoral House.
The place had filled up nicely by showtime, Rose busy on the bush telegraph and the Duke/Strate clan were out in full force at the front of the makeshift performance space. Uncle Jesse, who Ryan had last glanced sleeping off his large lunch was looking particularly excited, cradling a root beer in one hand and unlicensed silver hipflask in the other. Rose looking even more gangly behind her guitar finished a song to polite applause and stepped back up to the mic. It was difficult to hold the natural bluster of the school corridor when everybody was staring back at you. "This is a new song, I completed with the help of friend of mine," she said, a little too loudly and fast. "Mr Deacon Claybourne." From the door of the cash office, come impromptu Band Room, Rayna nudged Deacon's ribs, "Looks like someone's got a crush on you old timer."
That same chord pattern again, but with more purpose and confidence. "Just good o'l boys. Never meaning no harm..." Bo and Luke looked at each other.
"Does she mean us?" Bo asked.
"Sure does."
The time between "And now. Live at The Boar's Nest – Rayna Jaymes" and the final chorus of "A Life That's Good" flashed by. Rayna put as much of herself into the gig as she would at The Ryman or an open air festival. An appreciative crowed always bought out the best in her and warmth flowed between artist and audience. Deacon strong beside her, mainly kept his eyes on his fretboard avoiding the front row. Halfway through she took a stall and glass of water, getting Deacon to debut his new number "Sideshow," a song that he had been trailing throughout the tour during sound-checks. Deputy Enos' face was a picture. When the set ended it was clear from the stamps and howls that an encore was expected, nay demanded and they had nothing planned. Deacon twiddled tuning pegs, Rayna got Rose out of her seat and up front before leading the whole place into a singalong of 'Shenandoah.'
By the time Rayna had rehydrated, stopped Bucky from over worrying and signed napkins for what felt like half the county; the stars were out and the last customers went walking into the fresh night air. Only Uncle Jesse remained. "What a night," he said, "You put on a fine show lady, it's been a real pleasure." As they walked to the exit, she supporting him, towering above in her stage heels, he turned his face to her. "Now you look after that man of yours, understand me?"
"My husband's good." Rayner replied, "Looking after our other daughter back in Nashville." There was no way he could have caught the slight pause in her voice, or seen the start of an 'M' form on her lips but he stopped dead in his tracks.
"I know very well who your husband is," Jesse said, with all the power and gravitas only a soft spoken man can give. "They think I sleep all day but they're wrong. That there guitar man is the rye in your whiskey. Take it from an old farmer and Moonshiner, you have to cultivate that, let it grow. His seed may be wild but his roots are firm in the ground now, and don't you go pretending to me he was only drinking water today just because it's The Sabbath." He moved on with determination leaving Rayna staggering in his wake.
"Deac?"
"Mmmph what?"
"I can't sleep." she whispered.
Moonlight seeped between the curtains as he thrashed around nearly stubbing his toe on the single bedstead. "I can see that," the 2am voice of Deacon replied softly, "I have trouble sleeping too when I'm standing bolt upright in the doorway of someone else's bedroom"
"Can we talk?"
"I thought we were."
"Properly, there's more space in my bed."
"Ray, we can't. We're somebody's guest and you're…"
"Calm it, no one will know, apart from little Daphne, oh and quite possibly Uncle Jesse!"
"You serious?"
"It's a strange story."
Deacon heaved himself out of bed, "We'll I've got all night, 'least what left of it."
She lay feeling his warmth, lingering on the smell that had been part of her life for so long that she could conjure it simply by closing her eyes and drifting. Her head felt content on his chest, the clock pointed to half two. But Deacon, a twitching conflict of instinct and pride couldn't relax.
"This is wrong" he mumbled, "shouldn't be happening."
"That's a good way to think if it," Rayna whispered back, "We should never have broken down, got stuck in a strange town…" she planted a light kiss, "Strange house…" and again, "Strange bed. None of this is real and tomorrow we go back to our everyday, extraordinary lives. At this moment we are out of time and space, like in a science fiction novel."
"When the hell did you ever read science fiction?"
"Bucky leaves them around." The truth was she had had plenty of time for reading since they split as a couple. Hanging about studios, waiting for him to attend a session he wasn't capable of playing in, then spending time at home with baby Maddie when her voice wasn't coming out to play. Evenings eating dinner home alone because Teddy's meetings had over run and she wanted to have drunk enough not to be sure if the smell of liquor was coming from her breath or her husband's. Rayna was not attracted to bad men, just flawed ones. She pressed into his skin, feeling the bump of his collarbone on her lips, meanwhile her hands roamed further down his body.
"Thought you wanted to talk." Deacon breathed.
"But I am, I'm telling you everything I feel inside right now, just not with my voice."
"He'll split my head open, if he finds out."
"He will never know hun, you have to just trust me." Over the years Rayna had grown good at hiding the truth from people, even herself at times. Though for obvious reasons Deacon couldn't know how good. Her right leg was entwined around his left, little effort needed to hook and roll onto him. Tandy was a heavy sleeper and the master suite lay on the other side of the house.
They waited outside the Boar's Nest for the repaired bus to roll in. Rosco was there again, along with the Duke boys, while Enos too had made sure he was around to wave them off. Rayna and Deacon had made their farewells to Daisy at breakfast, strong coffee masking their yawns. Rose had left for school, looking almost demure in her uniform, wearing just about as much make up as she could without winding up in the Principle's office, again. Despite feeling like a naughty teenager herself Rayna was determined to show her professional Monday face to the wold. Daphne was keeping Tandy occupied and Deacon was talking sport to the Dukes. From far off Rayna thought she could hear the powerful wine of a motor.
Rosco was telling her some tail from the old days she was only half listening too, as the purr became more pronounced and turned into a whoosh. A black Trans-Am came out of nowhere, onto Main Street, gliding on rails and was past almost before she knew it. The fading engine noise merging with a wolf-whistle from Bo Duke. Rosco was almost apoplectic.
"Did you just see that? That numbskull's proper speeding. Well no one does that in this town to Rosco P Coltrane. I am going after, in hot pursuit.
Luke laid a muscular arm on the Sheriff's shoulder. "Forget it Rosco," he said, "by the time you've turned the ignition that thing will be in the next County."