WARM BLANKET
"Is the cake ready?" Bo walked into the kitchen, inhaling the sweet scent.
"Oh yes," Daisy opened the oven, "it's ready, but you know that…"
"…that we have to wait for Enos before to eat it," Luke reached Bo and Daisy in the kitchen, "you promised him your famous apple pie and a cup of tea for snack."
"Mommy Daisy preparing a snack for sweet Enos," Bo smiled, no malice in his words but only a genuine amusement.
"Oh Bo, stop joking," Daisy laughed, throwing a dish-clot to her younger cousin.
"What's happening here?" uncle Jesse too entered the kitchen, looking at his nephews and niece.
"Daisy is defending the cake from us 'cause she wants Enos eat it all," Bo winked at his uncle, still smiling, and uncle Jesse shook his head, sighing.
A week passed since the crash and Enos' nearly drowning, and everything seemed coming back to normal in Hazzard: sunny and boring days, no other cars' thieves, no robbers, nothing, fortunately, as Dukes kept an eye on Enos. They didn't know if Enos noticed their sort of "guard" (they tried to be not intrusive), but, even if he noticed it, he didn't look bothered.
When the patrol car stopped in front of the farm, Daisy opened the kitchen's door, looking at Enos coming out the car, no more limping; he didn't limp, but he was pale and he had a tired look, as after a sleepless night.
"Hey sugar, everything's OK?" she walked to him, grabbing his arm and walking by his side, "again your leg?"
"No, my leg's OK. I simply didn't sleep very well. Is it so clear?"
"Pretty clear," she gently pinched his cheek, in a friendly way, as many time in the past, and as many times in the past he blushed, smiling shyly, "but my apple pie is goin' to cheer you up." She didn't want to show him her worrisome, remembering his words ("I don't want to see you so worried. I want only to live the present time"). She felt he wanted to forget what happened in L.A., and the best way to help him was act as old times, as before he went to L.A.; she wanted he felt at home, no past bothering him; she wanted to know what happened to him so badly, but the more she asked him about it, the more she felt she hurt him, remembering him those days, so she was forcing herself to act as nothing happened, "living the present time" (as he told her), despite her desire to know.
"Ok, now I'm goin' to prepare tea," she walked to the kitchen, leaving him in the living room with uncle Jesse and her cousins.
Sinking into the couch, Enos put his hat off, resting it on the small table in front of the couch.
His belly's turn: it's why he didn't sleep at all during the night, despite Vicodin. He was glad Daisy didn't insist to know why he didn't sleep; he hated to see her so worried, it saddened him. He appreciated her worrisome 'cause it meant she really cared for him (as a close friend, and he was content of it) but he preferred to see her smiling and happy: it cheered him up.
Apple pie's smell. It provoked him only a pesky nausea he was trying to fight back because he didn't want to worry Daisy; he was already ashamed of what happened at the pond the week before. It scared Daisy, and it scared him too.
And a burning pain, THAT pain, unfortunately added to nausea.
Not there, not then! He didn't want Dukes (and Daisy) saw him during a crisis.
He had to find a way to go away, an excuse, but it was too late: covered in cold sweat he cuddled up on the couch, able to say only just few words, "Vicodin. It's in the car, in the dashboard. May you go and take it, please?"
Bo stood up and walked to the door, and Enos buried his face against the couch, trying to control his breath and not to moan.
Not there, not then! Not in front of Dukes. Not in front of Daisy!
"ENOS! What's happening?"
He heard her quick steps from the kitchen to the couch, and her hand caressing his damp hair, trying to calm him down. When he stayed in Hospital he dreamt of that hand, and now he wanted to run away.
With trembling hands he took the glass of water and the pill Bo was giving him, and he swallowed it, then burying again his face against the couch, fighting against that burning and pulsing pain, as a red-hot hand squeezing his guts, again and again.
"I'm going to call Doc Appleby," uncle Jesse walked to the phone.
"It's… only… a bellyache. It's not the first time. It's going to pass off, thanks Vicodin. There's no need to call Doc Appleby," his voice a whisper, not convincing since uncle Jesse phoned to Doc Appleby, explaining what's happening and asking the doctor to come to the farm. In the living room only uncle Jesse's voice, whereas Bo, Luke and Daisy seemed holding their breath.
He was drenched with cold sweat, Daisy keeping on caressing his hair and shoulders.
He didn't know how much it lasted, but when Doc Appleby arrived at the farm he was still fighting against the pain, starting to moan sort of "it hurts," despite his efforts to hide, as much as possible, his pain to Daisy, but it was a really bad crisis, one of his worst crisis, and he barely managed not to start crying, both for pain and for rage (he felt like a helpless and crying baby in front of his friends... and in front of Daisy).
"Enos, can you walk?", Doc Appleby's voice reached him in his hell, and he nodded.
Helped by uncle Jesse and Doc Appleby he walked to Bo and Luke's room, where he took off his belt and he lied down on Luke's bed; when uncle Jesse walked outside the room, closing the door, Doc Appleby started to do his job, unbuttoning Enos' shirt, rolling up his shirt's sleeve, visiting him and giving him a shot, something Enos wouldn't have let Doc Appleby do in the living room, in front of Dukes, and for sure Doc Appleby knew it, beside his correct practice based on professional confidentiality and reserve.
Enos didn't like Doc Appleby's hands on his bare belly; he closed his eyes and he tried to erase from his mind the memory of various doctors and nurses' hands on him during the long time he stayed in Hospital, day after day. He's never liked very much human touch because of his shyness, and his being visited, day after day, as he was blocked in that Hospital's bed, wasn't something he liked to recall; the mixing of shyness and pride transformed those visits in an unpleasant moment: he didn't like to depend on anybody's else, he didn't like that feeling of being like a sort of unprotected doll in front of anybody's eyes, and he was embarrassed of their touch (especially nurses' touch). And there were worse things than his staying in Hospital, things bringing him in that Hospital, things he was trying to forget, desperately.
When the pain finally started to let go, after Doc Appleby's shot, Enos sighed in relief.
"You're really stubborn, Enos. How many times do I have to tell you need to have rest? A long convalescence is what you need: rest, sleep, light and genuine food. You CAN'T work, your body can't bear it, yet."
Still on the bed, relieved from the pain but exhausted, Enos buttoned his drenched shirt, just in case Daisy or someone else decided to enter the room: he didn't want they saw the signs of his staying in Hospital.
"I can't stop, Doc. I HAVE to work 'cause it helps me to focus on… the present. I CAN'T stop."
Doc Appleby had a deep sigh, "Enos, you risked to die. Do you remember it? Do you remember what happened to you? Have I to list you your injuries, all of your injuries?"
Enos swallowed against the lump in his throat, closing his eyes and clenching his fists: no, there's no need Doc Appleby listed all his injuries, those pains were enough to remember him everything, to remember him too much.
"Sorry, I didn't want to remember you your time in Hospital," Doc Appleby caught Enos' stiffening, "now, please, stay here and have some rest."
Rest. Enos felt totally exhausted, as every time after his fight against those pains, as every time he took Vicodin (this time with the helpful add of Doc Appleby's shot, helpful on pain but not on drowsiness): he had a deep breath and he let a dark tunnel swallow him.
"How's Enos?"
Soon after Doc Appleby came out the room, Daisy walked to him.
"He's sleeping, the pain's gone, now. Let him sleep a bit, and he'll be fine."
"What happened to him? Why did he stay in Hospital? How long did he stay there?". Daisy promised to herself not to ask it to Enos in order not to hurt him (remembering him things he wanted to forget), but Doc Appleby wasn't Enos, and she wanted to know.
"Daisy Duke, do you have a clue about professional confidentiality?", Doc Appleby walked past Daisy, his bag in his hands, heading to the door, "Let him rest and keep an eye on him. Remember him he's not a robot and he has to rest. And if it happens again, call me."
Daisy folded her arms, disappointed. Doc Appleby talked about professional confidentiality the same way Enos talked about police business. They were impossible: their job above everything and everyone. WHY?
"I'm worrying for him! And I can't stand to see him this way without knowing what happened to him!"
Doc Appleby stopped and turned to Daisy, sighing, "Daisy, do you think you'd feel better if I listed you all his broken bones and about the surgical operation he was subjected to because of internal damages? It's pointless. Besides, from his medical records, I know about his staying in Hospital but not about what happened to him, exactly, before his arrival in Hospital. Traumatic injuries, a vague medical wording to explain the origin of injuries: trauma, that's all. But I don't know anything else about that trauma (maybe a crash, or a falling from an high height, or a beating), the discharge's letter reports only a vague - traumatic injuries -, focusing on injuries but not on the nature of the trauma that provoked those injuries (that's police business), and, as a doctor of a small town, the doctor who has to take care of the patient after his discharge from the Hospital, after nearly two months in Hospital, I don't need to know EXACTLY what kind of trauma he suffered but just the consequences of that trauma. I can cure him even without knowing what he faced, exactly; and Enos didn't want to talk about it, anyway, so I have to be content of the vague causative wording in the discharge letter."
Dukes held their breath, stunned by Doc Appleby's words; Doc told them more than he could say, a partial betrayal of his professional confidentiality: he told them more that he could but at the same time he told them nothing. They knew, now, Enos was hurt really badly (broken bones and internal damages) and he stayed in Hospital for nearly two months (a LONG time), but they didn't know exactly what injuries he faced, and they didn't know HOW he was injured. Doc Appleby's saying and not saying was his way to warn Dukes about Enos' condition in order to convince them to keep an eye on Enos… as if Dukes needed a reminder in order to take care of Enos.
"What injuries? What surgical operation?" Daisy wasn't content of Doc Appleby's words, the only one in the living room able to insist whereas uncle Jesse and her cousins were speechless.
"Daisy! Enos is not a child. I CAN'T break professional confidentiality; I've already talked too much. Enos knows everything, ask to him, he's not dead, and he's not in coma. He can talk, if he wants to. You don't have the right to ask me to tell you everything. Moreover, you're not a close relation of Enos, and, as I've said, he CAN talk, if he wants to."
"Enos has no close relation who can take care of him!" Daisy felt her rage rising, and with her rage her voice, "I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job!"
Her heart beating furiously in her chest and her cheeks burning, Daisy realized she just confessed her love for Enos to her family and to Doc Appleby, and she confessed also her rage because of the postponed wedding and Enos' decision to go to L.A.; again that jealousy for Enos' job, her worst rival.
Overprotective, stubborn, hot-tempered and possessive: Daisy wasn't happy of her showing these sides of herself.
Uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke were doubly speechless.
"I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job! "
Daisy's voice entered Enos' limbo between sleeping and waking. He tried to catch those words, repeating them in his mind, his foggy mind: was it real? Was it a dream? Did Daisy really tell those words?
Gentle hands took off his shoes and touched his forearm where Doc Appleby gave him the shot, rolling down his shirt's sleeve; "Enos, sugar, if you sleep with this sweaty shirt on, you'll catch a cold," Daisy's breath caressed his ear and her lips pressed on his ones, then a warm blanket covered him.
He tried to open his eyes and to call her, but the dark tunnel swallowed him again.
LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK
He couldn't move his arms. He couldn't move his legs.
Casts. Both arms and legs were broken.
Tubes everywhere.
He was trapped in that bed. He felt as a stupid bug trapped into a spider-web.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.
Something like that shouldn't have been happened. A lot of things shouldn't have been happened.
They nearly killed him.
Just because his doing his duty.
I will never betray my badge,
my integrity, my character,
or the public trust.