"Each one of us continues to carry the heart of each self we've ever been, at every stage along the way, and a chaos of everything good and rotten. And we have to carry this weight all alone, through each day that we live. We try to be as nice as we can to the people we love, but we alone support the weight of ourselves"

Banana Yoshimoto

CARRYING THAT WEIGHT

Rosco looked carefully at Enos who sat at his desk, reading, again, Sheriff McGregor's reports (especially the coroner's report) about Rose Strate's and Andrew Salinger's death. Since he came back to work, two weeks before, he spent a lot of time looking for something in the Police Department's dusty archives (Rosco didn't know what but he could guess it: any information about Andrew Salinger and his staying in Hazzard), and reading that report since he received it, the previous week.

As usual, Enos was at the same time thoughtful and distant as he read that report, as he was fighting between the will of reading it, swallowing and digesting anything in it, and the will of forgetting it, vomiting all that venom.

Andrew Salinger: Rosco had worked with that man, as he was a young deputy, and now, thinking that man could be Enos' real father, he felt confused; he looked at Enos in a different way, he couldn't deny it. He observed Enos, trying to remember Andrew Salinger, but he could barely remember officer Salinger's look (if sheriff McGregor hadn't showed him that man's picture, he wouldn't have remembered him): but, even thinking at that picture, he couldn't find any physical likeness between Enos and that officer.

Pesky rumors: at that time Rosco didn't know 'bout a possible affair between Rose Strate and officer Salinger; at that time he was only a young and naïve deputy, but, few days before, talking with Boss 'bout it (being Boss for sure less naïve and innocent than him) he understood it wasn't a so absurd rumor, since several people, at that time, had doubts 'bout that tricky affair, and 'bout Enos' birth, too. Thomas Strate loved too much Rose to have doubts 'bout it (or, if he had some doubts, he kept them for himself, not sharing these pesky thoughts with his family), and after Rose's leaving (suspiciously few after Andrew Salinger's leaving, a forced leaving due to the terrific wreck that destroyed Dukes… and nearly killed Andrew Salinger too) he kept on taking care of his presumed son (no matter if he was his real son or not). After all, Thomas Strate was an honest and good man, even if a moonshiner, even if sometimes apparently not so caring and loving to that son. And Andrew Salinger too, he was a good man, for sure a good cop, as far as Rosco could remember, love affairs or not.

An old small rumor everybody seemed to have forgotten… 'till the present time, when everybody in Hazzard seemed to talk 'bout it: a rumor suddenly changed into truth, a truth spreading in town as fire during summer.

"How's Enos?", uncle Jesse looked at Bo and Luke entering the kitchen, still yawning, "you met him yesterday evening, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we talked a bit at the Boar's Nest, and he seemed OK. Still a bit confused… and sad… but he's goin' better and better. We even made him laugh".

Uncle Jesse sighed after Bo's words, "Perfect, I'm glad 'bout it… and… are people still talking 'bout … that thing? Did someone… annoy him because of it?"

Luke shrugged, "Obviously, uncle Jesse, people are talking 'bout it. People like to talk 'bout such a tricky thing, even if they can hurt someone, unfortunately. But… 'till now it seems nobody's so insensitive to talk 'bout it in front of Enos. Some looks are a bit… questioning and curious, but, fortunately, there are only looks, no words, and Enos, even if he notices it, doesn't seem so much concerned".

Uncle Jesse shook his head, "Bad times. I miss old times, sometimes". He looked up at the ceiling, thoughtfully.

After Rose Strate's and Andrew Salinger's leaving, people (several but few people, fortunately) who had doubts 'bout a possible affair between them two stopped talking 'bout it, respecting Thomas Strate's pain for his wife's leaving, and respecting the genuine friendship between Thomas Strate and Jesse Duke; Jesse Duke too respected his friend Thomas enough to avoid any possible comment 'bout the affair between Thomas' wife and the man who destroyed his family; somehow that tragedy drew Thomas Strate and Jesse Duke nearer and nearer: they shared that tragedy, even if from different points of view.

So, that intriguing but fortunately small rumor simply disappeared, thanks to Thomas Strate's and Jesse Duke's willing, and thanks to the great respect people had for Thomas and Jesse. Besides, it was only a rumor, and it seemed nobody wanted to find out if it was true or not, for everybody's sake, especially after Thomas Strate's death; and, even if Rose Strate came to Hazzard, from time to time, nobody tried to ask her 'bout that rumor: it was painful… and pointless due to her insanity (nobody could really trust her words). Even Jesse Duke seemed to avoid any reference to that rumor, respecting his old and beloved friend, and respecting (and protecting) his friend's son: no matter what, Thomas Strate had taken care of Enos as if he was his son, SO he was his son, and Jesse Duke didn't want to know anything else, from Rose Strate nor from anyone else, becoming, from time to time, a sort of putative father for his best friend's son.

No matter how much the news 'bout Rose Strate and Andrew Salinger shocked him, few weeks before: Thomas was dead, and fortunately he couldn't suffer any more because of it, but there was Enos, Thomas' ACTUAL son, the boy who grew up with his niece and nephews, the man his niece loved. It was uncle Jesse's and Dukes' way to think, and fortunately Enos understood it, not distancing himself from his old friends and love, the same way they didn't repel him (and, in effect, there's no need to reject him, but it was time to stay closer him).

"Don't worry, uncle Jesse, we're goin' to protect Enos from this thing; we're already keeping an eye on him", Luke blinked and he patted gently on his uncle's back, "besides, there's Daisy by Enos' side, and she can become a tiger if someone dares to hurt him".

Daisy walked like a tiger in cage as she waited for Enos at the Boarding House: his lunch time (a lunch time longer than past times thanks to Rosco, a strangely gentle and caring Rosco… or, maybe, not so much strangely since Daisy knew Rosco cared for Enos, in the deep of his heart), and lately they've decided to spend his lunch time at his place, away from anyone, away from people's curious, pitiful and sometimes judging eyes, away from rumors.

When he opened the door, she ran in his arms and she kissed him.

Enos looked at her, smiling, "WOW, Daisy Duke, you're really eager to see me"

"Obviously I'm eager to see you, sugar".

Sitting at the table and eating silently their lunch, they looked at each other, enjoying their staying together with no need to talk, 'till Daisy's usual question, "Everything's OK? Did someone annoy you?"

And Enos' usual answer, "Everything's OK, thanks".

And then their usual way to show their mutual affection: spooning each other on the bed, talking… talking… and talking… about whatever they wanted to, usual funny things to forget anything else; or not talking at all, buried under the blankets, in another kind of communication, more intimate.

A kind of communication Daisy started to understand better and better: the more he was febrile and desperate, the more something was wrong with him. And there was really something wrong during the last week, she felt it.

Under the blankets, spooning him as the first time, at the Institute, she had a big sigh before to ask him what's wrong, then she waited patiently for his answer.

"My mother killed Andrew Salinger".

Daisy was shocked by his answer, but she didn't say anything, waiting for more.

"I've read again and again Sheriff McGregor's reports, and there's no other conclusion: my mother and that man met in that glade near the Institute, and she offered him a coffee, a coffee full of sedatives, then, when he was sleeping, she killed him, and herself… you know how"

He remained silent, and Daisy felt his body gently trembling.

"But, Enos, are you sure 'bout it?"

"I've analyzed everything, and there's no other conclusion. In Andrew Salinger's blood there was a large amount of sedatives, the same sedatives found in a thermos inside the car (my mother's thermos… there was a picture of that thermos in the report, and I remember it pretty well), whereas there was no sedative in my mother's blood. It means my mother brought that thermos with her, in order to drug him and to kill him… and herself… when he couldn't react. For sure he didn't arrive at the Institute under sedatives, since he couldn't drive that way. He drank the coffee my mother offered him, and then he fell asleep. My mother loved coffee, and for sure she'd have drunk it if she hadn't known 'bout the sedatives in it… She knew it 'cause she wanted to drug him before to kill him, and her with him. She wanted to die with him… whereas he didn't want to die. Homicide-suicide: it's sheriff McGregor's conclusion, and I agree with him, there's no other possibility. I've thought 'bout other possibilities, but any other possibility is absurd and non-sense. I don't know why they met or how many times they met before their last time, anyway. I don't know why my mother did what she did. There are so many unresolved questions, but I think I won't have any answer 'bout it".

Feeling his body trembling, Daisy understood it wasn't good for him to keep on analyzing and thinking of those kind of things; moreover, it wasn't good at all if he had started to blame himself for that man's death, and, knowing Enos, it was a realistic possibility.

"Enos, stop it. Forget 'bout everything. You can't turn back time. Whatever happened, it happened. No matter how much you try to understand everything… why… how… when. It happened"

His trembling became more and more intense, and he started to breathe heavily, as the day of his mother's funeral, and as other times after it (even if the attack he had the day of the funeral was the worst one). But Daisy now knew how to stop it: she rolled him on his back, she hugged him tight and she kissed him deeply, not letting him go 'till his breath became regular, in a sort of strange mouth to mouth resuscitation.

When he finally relaxed, she let him go.

She observed him as he got up, catching his loose clothes inside the room and heading to the bathroom, no more ashamed of his nudity in front of her, or simply so confused and lost in his thoughts he didn't mind it; thinking 'bout it, Daisy couldn't help but being stunned of their relationship's change, a so sudden and fundamental change, happened only less than three weeks before. Thinking of Enos' previous usual shyness and lacking in self-confidence, and of his actual way to relate to her, Daisy wondered if his previous shyness was only a dream, a façade, or if the dream was that new relationship: was his acting natural, or was it the consequence of the shock he was facing?

When he came out the bathroom after a brief shower, his uniform on, ready to go back to work, he didn't forget to kiss her before to leave his apartment: he kissed gently her lips and then her right shoulder, making her shiver as his tongue gently touched her skin, despite her worrisome because of this new complication, his obsessive thoughts 'but it and his possible reaction to it.

In the evening, his mind lost in his thoughts, walking to the Police Department, Enos didn't even realize someone was following him. He realized it when the man called him, a rough call.

"Hey, Strate, you, bastard"

When Enos turned to that voice, surprised, the man's fist hit him with all his strength, so he fell down to the ground, his ears buzzing, a burning pain radiating from his cheek to his head. He tried to stand up but a violent kick against his chest, and the clear sound of a "crack" (or, at least, it was what he heard), pushed him down again, gasping for air. A second kick directed against his stomach made him vomit few gastric juices. He managed to block a third kick directed to his face raising his left arm, another "crack" resounding in his mind with a rush of unbearable pain.

"John Fitzroy, what the heck are you doing?"

He was waiting for a fourth and final kick, unable to protect himself (he could barely breathe), when he heard Luke's voice, whereas Bo was kneeling by his side, calling him frantically.

He heard the sound of a fight near him (only few punches) and someone running away before Luke came closer him, calling his name as Bo. He felt that same difficulty to breathe he knew so well since his mother's death, but it was now totally different because of the pain in his chest, stomach and left arm; he grabbed Bo's shirt with his right hand (his left arm motionless along his body) and he buried his face against his friend chest, gasping for air, Bo's arms holding him up, his friends' voices keeping on calling his name.

As he fought to breathe, his name became more and more distant, and everything turned black, as he was under-water. He gave up and he fainted into his friends' arms.

Erika Salinger was looking at the scene from the other side of the street.

She saw everything: that man, a cop, walking in the street and suddenly being attacked by another man who called him "bastard", those boys (the blonde one with a yellow shirt and the brown one with a blue shirt) running to help the cop, the boy with the blue shirt punching the bad boy and letting him running away before to kneel down by the cop's side with the other boy, the woman running to the three men after a while and, knelt by the cop's side, starting to hug him and to call his name as a woman in love usually does, and finally the ambulance.

She heard everything: the cop's name was Enos Strate, that woman's son, the man she was looking for.

She understood everything: his way to walk, his way to look down at the ground, his hands firmly on his belt as he stopped to talk to a man, his gentle nodding and smiling as he walked away from the man. Only few minutes observing him as he walked in that street before he was attacked to see, without any doubt, her father into that cop: he wasn't alike Andrew Salinger, physically, since he had brown straight hair and he was really tall and muscular (whereas Andrew Salinger was less muscular and blonde with blue eyes), but his gestures were totally alike to Andrew Salinger's ones. It was like to see a taller and brown version of Andrew Salinger.

She was shocked, voices of people who were looking, and commenting upon, the scene floating around her and telling her what she's already understood:

"John Fizroy's dad was arrested by Andrew Salinger, 30 years ago"

"What a shame. That woman, a moonshiner's wife, having an affair with that ATF's officer"

"Do you think deputy Strate is really Salinger's son? At that time, someone thought that…"

Erika walked away from those voices, stunned: she came to that little town to hate that man, to vomit against him all her hate, and now she was simply realizing she COULDN'T hate him, the same way she couldn't hate her father or herself. He was both Rose Strate's son and Andrew Salinger's son, and he was carrying the weight of being their son, the son of both of them.

Her brother. And she had to carry the same weight.