BLOOD'S SMELL

"Gotta go now, or Mr. Hogg will fire me," Enos put his hat on and walked to his patrol car, leaving Daisy there, her arms still folded, the only thing she could do being looking at the car, a cloud of dust behind it as he drove away.

She turned and walked to the farm: she failed. Again, as the previous evening, she didn't manage to get over the wall Enos built around him after his coming back from L.A.

THE PREVIOUS EVENING

"There's something wrong with him," Daisy stood up, her dish in her hands, putting it in the sink and washing it.

The same talking in the last two weeks at Dukes' table during dinner, the same talking during breakfast, too; her back against the cupboard, wiping her hands, Daisy kept on talking, "He didn't even eat lunch I brought him. He said he wasn't hungry. And he should eat, since he's clearly too much slim, a lot thinner than when he left."

"Daisy, you're talking like a mommy who's worried for her child," Bo smiled, trying to calm her down, "you said that he was thin two years ago too, when he came back from L.A., didn't you? Luke and I were away because of NASCAR circuit, so we didn't see him at that time and we can't notice any difference between now and two years ago, but maybe you're worrying too much, WE're worrying too much. Life in L.A. is different, different food, different rhythm, and for sure Enos worked a lot, there."

"Yeah, he was thin, then, but now it's different! It's not only about his weight. It's about his … general look. He's different. He's sad… and worried… and I don't know what else. You and Luke too told you were surprised when you went to the airport to bring him back home, two weeks ago."

Bo looked at Luke, and his older cousin looked down at the table; they couldn't pretend they weren't shocked that day, only two weeks before, when they saw Enos, at the airport, coming back after his staying in L.A. during the previous 6 months. He was thinner and he was "different" about "his general look", as Daisy told: serious, sad and lost in his thoughts, sort of ghost of their best friend.

"Something happened to him, for sure, and it's why his letters were shorter and shorter, 'till he stopped to write me back, nearly two months before his coming back. I should have realized, since then…," she shook her head.

Enos' letters: another leitmotif, something Daisy kept on wondering about during those days. During his first staying in L.A., Enos used to write a letter every week, long letters to Daisy, telling her about his life in L.A., whereas along his last staying his letters became shorter and shorter along the months (especially after the first month, being the excuse of that shortness his hard work and his few free time) to stop abruptly nearly two months before his coming back, then his last letter (few lines) the week before his arrival, just to tell he was coming back. At that time Daisy was disappointed and angry of his behaviour, not much worried since he never talked about something wrong or some problem in his letters (and Daisy preferred to believe in his being too much occupied with his job than to think something was wrong), but worrisome slapped her when she saw him the day of his arrival, so the shortness of those letters and the abrupt pause acquired a different meaning, a darker meaning.

Being honest to herself, Daisy was disappointed not only because of Enos' shorter and shorter letters during his staying in L.A., but also because of his decision to go to L.A., for starter. But she didn't want to admit it to herself, better not to think about it, smothering her sense of guilty: if she hadn't been angry to Enos because of his decision to go to L.A., she'd have read his behaviour in a different way, not believing so easily to his "hard work", not finding, instead, another reason to be angry to him beside his leaving; if she hadn't been angry to Enos because of his decision to go to L.A., she would have worried because of those shorter and shorter letters, finding a way to understand what's going on and to help him: rage blinded her, preventing her to see what she had to see.

And the reason of her rage when he decided to go to L.A. was…

… Big sigh, "I gotta go to the Boar's Nest, now. I have to work."

"See you later," Luke stood up as Daisy left, helping uncle Jesse to do the dishes; they asked Enos to meet them at the Boar's Nest, that evening, in order to talk and to understand what's going on with him, so Bo and Luke would have reached Daisy at the Boar's Nest later, after helping their uncle.

Driving her jeep, Daisy kept on fighting back her sense of guilty, sense of guilty because of her rage to Enos during his staying in L.A., a pointless sense of guilty 'cause she knew her rage wasn't responsible of whatever happened to Enos in L.A., obviously, and, beside, even if she had worried instead of been angry she wouldn't have known how to find out what's going on and how to help him.

Wouldn't she have known any way to find out what's going on and to help him? Stopping her jeep in front of the Boar's Nest, Daisy tried to convince herself that even if she had worried for him instead of been angry to him, nothing would have changed, she wouldn't have spared him whatever happened to him, she couldn't have stopped whatever happened to him.

If she hadn't been angry to him when he left Hazzard… And the reason of that rage was…

When she entered the Boar's Nest, she froze, her eyes and her mouth wide open.

Enos sat there, his arms folded on the counter and his head resting on his arms, near him a beer mug. And the coupling of Enos and a beer mug was something Daisy wasn't waiting for.

Daisy looked at the bartender, a questioning look, and Bob answered her.

"Three. This is his third beer."

Speechless, Daisy came closer Enos, who seemed asleep, his head on his folded arms.

"It doesn't work," no, we wasn't sleeping, he kept his eyes closed but he was awake, "It doesn't work. People say beer helps you to forget, but it doesn't work," his voice soft and his speech a bit slurred, "I've forgot nothing."

Daisy held her breath, saddened by his words but at the same time realizing it was a great opportunity to know what happened to him; she felt ashamed because of what she was going to do, it was like taking advantage of that temporary lowering of his defenses whereas she should have comforted him (simply hugging him), but she couldn't waste that occasion.

"Oh sugar," her hand gently caressing his nape, "what are you trying to forget? Poor Enos, was it so terrible?" and her usual tone when she was trying to worn an information out of him, a sweet and flattering tone; a flirting tone coupled with a soft touch, something that usually confused Enos to the point he blurted out everything. How many times did she use that trick to worn information about Boss and Rosco's plans out of him? It usually worked.

Usually… It worked, probably, when Enos WANTED to blurt out everything.

He opened his eyes, looking at her as he was trying to focus her, "Hey Dais. I think I should go back to the Boarding House and have a looooong sleep. Don't you think? Beer is not for me," he chuckled and he stood up, his hand grabbing her shoulder as soon as he stood up, in order to regain his balance, "WOW. Everything's swinging."

"I think you shouldn't drive your car, now, sugar," she gently put her arms around his waist, "Bo and Luke are going to bring you back to the Boarding House."

Like if they heard her silent prayers, Bo and Luke entered the Boar's Nest, on their face a questioning and surprised look.

"Bo, Luke, please, Enos is drunk," words so stunning Daisy wondered if she wasn't dreaming, "bring him to the Boarding House with the General. He can't drive, actually."

The blonde and the brown cousin looked at each other before to come closer Enos, their arms taking the place of Daisy's one as they helped Enos to walk outside the Boar's Nest.

Daisy had a deep sigh, her right hand covering her face and a brief shaking of her head to show her shock.

And her shock grew even more when Cooter, just arrived, entered the Boar's Nest in a rush, "Daisy, they're having a fight."

Cooter's appearance and his words were so surprising Daisy didn't even understand what he was saying, "Fighting? WHO?" thinking of one of the usual brawls at the Boar's Nest.

"Enos! with Bo and Luke. Enos punched Bo and Luke punched Enos to stop him."

"WHAT?" Daisy ran outside, another surreal scene in front of her: Bo, an handkerchief on his nose, was trying to stop the bleeding; Enos was sitting near the General, his back against the car, his breath heavy and his eyes closed, a bruise on his left cheek; Luke was standing near Enos, opening and closing his right hand in order to check everything was OK with it after the punch, a violent punch, obviously, to knock Enos out.

"Bo, Luke! For God's sake, what's happening?"

"Enos stumbled, and when Bo grabbed him to stop his falling, he punched Bo. I had to stop Enos, one way or another, I would have preferred not to punch him, but I had no choice," Luke's terse answer.

Bob put a hand on Daisy's shoulder, "You have to work, now, so, please, come in. Your cousins are able to take care of themselves and of Enos."

Daisy was going to answer Bob with a not at all gentle answer but Luke stopped her, "Bob's right, Daisy, we're going to bring Enos to the Boarding House and to check everything's OK," he nodded, his eyes firmly on Daisy, "Don't worry."

Entering the Boar's Nest, Daisy wondered how she could stay calm.

Entering the farm after Enos' leaving, Daisy looked at Bo, his nose swollen and two bruises under his eyes, in a raccoon-look. She shook her head.

"Did he say something?"

Daisy turned to her uncle and she answered him, "No, he simply said he was sorry because of yesterday," she walked to the couch and she sank into it.

"Yeah, he said he's sorry at least…. twenty times," Bo had a deep sigh. Enos came to the farm, early in that morning, before to go to work, just to tell Bo and Luke he was sorry because of what happened the previous evening, but he didn't explained WHY it happened, despite Daisy's attempt before he left. And the previous evening Bo and Luke's attempts too failed: they managed only to bring him to the Boarding House, helping him to undress and to go to sleep, and waiting there 'till he fell asleep. No words from him except of "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

She was worried, and she was angry, angry to Enos (because of being offish and rejecting) and angry to herself because of her rage. What strange thing, being angry because of her own anger.

And her rage was because … she felt rejected, since Enos' decision to go to L.A. for six months, without involving her in his decision. She wanted to be involved in his life.

She felt rejected 'cause she wanted to be involved in his life, and she wanted to be involved in his life 'cause …. she loved him. She couldn't stand that, few after their nearly wedding, he decided to leave Hazzard (and her) because of his job, his job above her: his job was her only rival, it's always been her rival.

But, first of all, she didn't stand he decided to stop the wedding because of the hives, what a stupid reason.

And after his leaving, that incomprehensible rage prevented her to understand the real meaning of that anger, blinding her more and more. Until his coming back: his sight slapped her, blowing out her rage and let her understand what she'd have understood since the beginning.

LOS ANGELES - FLASHBACK

Entering the bathroom of the Police Department, bathed in sweat (and not because of L.A.'s heat in that April), Enos washed his hands, tingeing water of red as it flowed in the sink's drain.

When the water finally lost its scary shade, he knelt down, his forehead against the cold steel of the sink, he closed his eyes and he tried to control his breath.

"Hey Strate," the door closed behind his colleague entering the bathroom, "it happens. It's a violent city, and we have to be careful, protecting ourselves… and protecting each other as more as possible."

The second colleague, kneeling by his side, squeezed gently his shoulder, "We're like big family, you know. We are us against them."

The third colleague stood still, his hands in his pockets, "That bastard had a gun."

Enos kept his eyes closed: he didn't see the gun. He didn't see any gun! How could it happen? How something like that could happen? If he had seen the gun, would things have been different?

His colleagues left him alone, respecting his need of silence and loneliness.

After several minutes he stood up and he washed his face with fresh water, but he stopped when a rush of nausea overwhelmed him; his hands still smelled of that sweetish, dense, sticky and stifling smell: blood's smell.