"Winter solitude-
in a world of one colour
the sound of the wind."
Matsuo Basho
WAITING FOR CHERRY BLOSSOMS
Five days.
Days spent in a complete and deep silence except for Nature's sounds around him: the wind between trees' branches, the thud of the snow falling off the branches (the last snow of winter, its fight against the upcoming spring almost over), the water of a river. But, surprisingly, nights seemed more noisy than days; sleepless nights spent staring into the darkness, his ears sensing any scaring sound: owls and wolves showing him their presence in the nearby forest, wind (always that wind) and creaking around him (the wooden cabin's sort of snoring).
Sleepless nights alternated to drowsy days.
Another drowsy day lying down near the little stove.
When his stomach grumbled he sat up, then he slowly stood up, heading to the little kitchen stove and to the fridge: scrambled eggs, cheese, pickles and bread, his usual lunch.
Despite his plastered arm, he was getting used to that impairment: his left hand was half covered by the cast, and it allowed him to use at least his fingers; cooking wasn't impossible, after all.
He could reach the nearby little town by foot (30 minutes by foot) to buy things he needed to, so there's no need to drive his car, a painful act. He liked to walk in that enchanted white world, it helped him to refresh his mind and it distracted him: 30 minutes to reach the town and 30 minutes to come back to his shelter, usually after lunch, nearly after every lunch, the winter sun slowly changing in spring sun, caressing his hair and face and reflecting on snow; a pleasant break from his painful thoughts.
Salinger, Strate: what's his identity? He had to build up and accept his now confused new identity before to go back to Hazzard. It'd have been a lot better to find out he wasn't the son of Andrew Salinger, it'd have been a lot better to find out it was only a rumor, but his worst nightmare became true: Erika Salinger showed him he was Andrew Salinger's son, definitively, no doubt 'bout it.
His worst suspicion becoming reality, his last hope gone.
Sitting at the table of the unique, except for a little bathroom, room of the cabin (at the same time kitchen, living room and bedroom), he chewed his lunch forcing himself to enjoy its taste, trying to remember himself it had a good taste.
Taste of scrambled eggs, and his mind was suddenly driven to Dukes' farm, and to Daisy: he ran away from them, he ran away from HER. He wanted to spare her his weight and his pain, and he was trying his best to endure his loneliness, fighting back his burning desire to hang on her, to let her comfort him in her unique way (just her presence was enough for him). He fought against his desire to go back to her with the image of her sleeping by his side, totally exhausted, her face pale and her features tight. He crashed her.
Coming out the cabin, ready for his walk to town, he decided he'd have phoned to the farm: he didn't want to hang on Daisy, crashing her with his pain, but he was pretty conscious that everybody was worrying for him, and he couldn't let Daisy worry for him that way.
Walking on the path surrounded by trees, he sighed thinking of what he'd have said, his breathe condensing in the air: it was still winter, late winter, there, in the Georgia's Blue Ridge Mountains, after all.
When the phone rang at the farm, early in the afternoon, Daisy was sleeping on the couch, an heavy drowsiness overwhelming her, as usual, lately, after lunch, and not only after lunch, to be honest: she wanted only to sleep, despite her worrisome and her shock about Enos' leaving.
Nausea and drowsiness: it was probably the consequence of the last months, since Rose Strate's arrival in Hazzard, months spent worrying for Enos. The last month, after Rose Strate's death, was even heavier, trying to protect Enos in any possible way from crashing. And Erika Salinger, at the end, the straw that broke the camel's back: Enos crashed, running away from anyone, Daisy's worst fear despite he seemed to learn to hang on her and on her family.
Where did she fail? WHERE? That day at the Hospital, being too much overprotective and awakening his proud, so he started, again, to think of himself as pitiful? Or the day he left the Hospital, her decision to let Bo and Luke bring him back home having the opposite result she wanted to? And that night, why that night, when he was trying to wake her up, didn't she wake up? WHY?
She slowly opened her eyes, the phone ringing in her head, and she saw uncle Jesse grabbing the receiver.
"Hello, this is Jesse Duke speaking", expectation and fear in his voice.
Daisy sat up, brushing her eyes, her mind still in her dreamy world (nightmares more than dreams).
"Enos! Boy, where are you?"
Her mind jumped immediately into the real world, and she rushed near her uncle, taking the receiver from his hands and pressing it against her ear, "Enos, sugar, are you OK?", her first thought being his safety because of her terrific conjectures along the last days: he was alive (not dead somewhere, maybe in a ravine, or in a river, or… she erased any terrific image of that kind from her mind) and it was a good news.
His voice at the other side of the receiver, so near but so distant, "I'm… OK", not convincing, "I wanted only to…", confusion, "to let you know I'm… OK", less and less convincing, "I need some time to understand and to face what's happened, all by myself, 'cause I've already annoyed you… too much", Enos' style, his worrying for her more than for himself. No matter how much she came closer him, he kept on building up a wall, even if, in his wry way of thinking, a wall protecting her (so a wall of love) but a wall.
"Enos, what are you talking about, sugar?", she tried to keep her voice calm and caring, avoiding to slip into hysterics, "You've NOT annoyed me, you've NOT annoyed anybody. We're worrying for you, we don't know where you are… we want you back, please", her tone changing in a sort of painful prayer despite her attempt to remain quiet and calming.
"I have to carry my weight, I can't hang on you, crashing you, Dais", heroic sacrifice, his confession he was carrying a weight (so, he was NOT OK), a weight crashing him so he didn't want to let it crash someone else. He couldn't face it all by himself, Daisy knew it, uncle Jesse knew it, but… did Enos know it? Obviously, no.
"Enos", her voice a whisper, her uncle's eyes on her making her blush, "what's the sense of being in love, of being… fiancées, if we don't share the bad moments? Do you remember what I told you that day, at the lake, 'bout… sharing?", uncle Jesse's hand squeezing gently her trembling shoulder.
Silence, and Daisy held her breath, hoping that silence meant his doubt, his wondering about the truth in her words, his understanding his mistake in running away.
"I love you, Daisy. And you love me, I know it", at least he was aware of her love, that idea of her having pity of him finally erased from his mind, "BUT… I need some time to… think of… to THINK", again, confusion, "and I'm here, away from you, 'cause I love you", she let go her held breath, in an exasperated sigh, "I'm sorry, but I need time".
Entering the farm, Bo and Luke froze at the sight of uncle Jesse and Daisy near the phone, Daisy with the receiver pressed against her ear and uncle Jesse circling her shoulders with his arm. Bo looked at Luke, a shadow of fear in his eyes, a silent and scaring question: did someone find Enos'… body? Their worst fear since Enos' leaving, well knowing their friend wasn't fine (neither physically nor, mostly, psychologically).
"Enos… please", Daisy's whisper, and Bo and Luke understood whom she was talking to, coming closer her and their uncle, fear on their face changing into curiosity and worrisome.
When Daisy put the receiver down, her family's eyes were on her, serious and sad eyes.
"He wants to stay alone…. somewhere, I don't know where, to…. THINK of… I don't know what", disappointment, rage and sadness in her voice, before to rush to the bathroom and to vomit the lunch. It was time to go to Doc Appleby and ask for a good anti-acid.
Coming out the telephone-box, Enos fought against a rush of nausea: he wanted Daisy, he needed Daisy, he wanted to hug her, kiss her, cry on her shoulder, BUT he couldn't do it, for HER sake.
He started to run to his shelter (? Or trap?), run as fast as possible, despite the pulsing pain in the right side of his chest, a pain radiating from his broken ribs, more and more as his breath became heavier and heavier.
Doc Appleby's eyes looked down at Daisy's nervous hands, finding the best way to ask her the most obvious question.
The most obvious question in the most simple and soft way, "Daisy, is it possible you're… pregnant?"
The doctor observed the surprise on Daisy's face, then her pondering about his question and finally her shock, "My period is… late, but… it's not the first time, it's always late when I'm under stress".
Doc Appleby coughed softly, a brief pause to find a way to say the most obvious thing, "Well, yeah, but, you feel sick, and your drowsiness…. Stress could be a possibility, if there's no other possibility. If you're SURE you're not pregnant, if there's NO possibility about it, well, it's stress, otherwise, it's better…", he stopped, realizing Daisy's sudden awareness.
Enos collapsed on the couch of the cabin, burying his face against the pillow and hugging it, useless and lifeless surrogate of his lifeboat.
A new spring sun touched Daisy's skin as she came out Doc Appleby's house, a dreamy smile on her face, a smile fading into incredulity and worrisome, and then blooming again.
She wondered how she didn't realize it before Doc Appleby's questions. It was so obvious, but she was too much worried about what's happening to Enos to correctly explain her body's signals.
She remembered the night at the Institute, their first night, and then their meetings at Enos' place for lunch before he ended up in Hospital because of John Fitzroy.
Enos wasn't her first man, he wasn't the only man she's slept with; she's had only few men, a lot of crushes and flings but only few men she's slept with (men now she totally regretted and she was ashamed of), so she wasn't inexperienced about it, and she's always been careful. Except with Enos: that night at the Institute was a sort of dream, a magic, and their following meetings too were wrapped in that magic aura, to the point she's never thought of the physical side (and its consequences) of her new relationship with Enos, focusing more on its dreamy and emotional side.
Enos was running away 'cause he felt responsible of her tiredness, drowsiness and nausea, and, in effect, he was responsible of everything, but in a different way he thought of.
She was going to be a mother, and Enos a father.
He had to know it in order to stop to feel responsible of her state (in the wrong way); if he had known 'bout her pregnancy, he wouldn't have run away any more 'cause of his strong sense of duty and of his love for her.
She was carrying Enos' child in her womb, and that child was the best gift for him, the perfect way to ease his pain and his confusion about his past, identity and family: SHE and THE BABY were his family and his future.
No past, no Strate, no Salinger, nobody and nothing else, but she, Enos, and their baby.
OK, now. It's the first time I come to this point in Enos/Daisy relationship (I wrote of it in some epilogue, to show their future as a family, or in some "memories?", LOL, but never along a story). As I've said in the note at the the end of the first chapter, this story is a bit different, and more mature (because of various hard topics in it), than any other story I wrote in the past. So, please, if you like it, REVIEW! (and if you don't like it, too, telling me what's wrong, strange, unbelievable, OOC and so on, in your opinion). Thanks for reading, anyway: if you're reading THIS note, and if you read all the story 'till this chapter, well, I suppose there's a good reason (unless the reason is "I want to know where this crap goes, at the end...OMG", LOL, I hope NOT this reason).