WATER'S CIRCLES
Dukes moved silently inside the kitchen, preparing dinner: soup, carp (buttermilk fried carp fillets, uncle Jesse's famous recipe, Enos' favorite one) and hushpuppies.
"It's a lot worse than I thought," Daisy's words broke the silence, reflecting everybody's thought.
"And it's why we're goin' to do our best to make Enos feel at home. So, smile and don't act as if it's a funeral. If Enos sees you right now, he'd be saddened and confused. He doesn't know we know everything, and we wouldn't be happy of our secret research. You said today he seemed fine, and happy, and it means he's somehow learning to put aside his memories and bad feelings about what happened to him, and for sure WE're NOT goin' to awake those feelings up."
"You're right, uncle Jesse," Bo nodded, walking to the cupboard and opening it, "but I can't help but feeling angry to… whomever hurt Enos, and to whomever didn't protect him… colleagues, protesters… Enos didn't deserve it."
"WE didn't protect him," Daisy sat on a chair, her eyes down to her lap, "if I had understood something was wrong, maybe…"
"Daisy, it's not your fault, it's nobody's fault. We couldn't know what's goin' on, and it's pointless to keep on thinking about all these IF, so stop blame yourself for something you're not responsible of," uncle Jesse turned to Bo, "and you, rage isn't the right answer."
"This morning Enos looked fine, yeah, but I don't think one month is enough to forget such things," Luke's sad words.
Uncle Jesse looked at Luke, thoughtfully, "I think you can understand Enos better than anybody else, Luke, because of your time in Vietnam, so, try your best to help him."
Her uncle's words slapped Daisy: she knew uncle Jesse was right, there were things men preferred to talk to each other instead of to women, and Enos talked about the beating to Bo and Luke and not to her 'cause he was probably too proud to show her his discomfiture ("You should think of my job not as a rival but as my way to protect you… and to be worthy of you," his words that day: was he thinking he wasn't worth of her 'cause of his being beaten during his job?), or simply he didn't want to worry her. She knew Enos loved her, she's always known it, and she knew Enos was a close friend of Bo and Luke, but she didn't like to realize that, maybe, Bo and Luke could be a better help than her for Enos.
Daisy's mind went to her younger days, when Enos decided to enter Police Academy, with everyone's surprise (a moonshiner's son becoming a cop), and with Luke's rage; Daisy remembered Luke and Enos having a quarrel when Enos told them his decision (or, it was better to say, Luke shouting his rage to Enos, talking about a betrayal, and Enos remaining silent, his head and eyes down). At that time Enos and Luke were 17 years old, she was 14 (just a young girl, unable to enter into a fight between young men and close friends, male friendship) and Bo 12 years old (still a child); she recalled how much that quarrel saddened her (Luke was his older and beloved cousin, and Enos her best friend, the first boy showing her his affection and attention) and how much it shocked Bo (confused by that break between two figures he loved… even if in a different way and with a different deepness, two figures he looked at, from his lower position, with a great admiration); both she and Bo didn't want to find themselves in the awkward position to have to choose between Luke and Enos, 'cause, even if their decision was expected (family is family), it would have crashed them, and, along the years, they would have blamed Luke for that broken friendship, to the point to weaken their family, too. Despite uncle Jesse's attempt to explain to Luke that Enos had his reasons to become a cop, and it wasn't a betrayal, Luke didn't talk to Enos 'till he left Hazzard to reach the Police Academy, and few after Luke too had to leave, but, after his coming back from Vietman, he was more mature and he seemed to accept Enos' being a deputy (in Luke's mind probably a new idea about what's duty and what wearing a uniform meant), finally understanding uncle Jesse's words; when Luke and Bo (Bo no more a child but a young man, turning from Luke's little cousin to Luke's best friend… and sort of brother) were sentenced to probation, and Enos took his part in their arrest, fortunately Luke didn't blame Enos of anything (at that time, SHE was angry to Enos because of his putting duty above all, even if, since Dukes were moonshiners, then, he simply did his duty), and, along the years, uncle Jesse's wise words about the importance of having a friend inside the Law became true: Enos was their eyes and ears in the Hazzard corrupted Law, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes involuntarily (but with Enos was difficult to understand what's the limit between voluntarily and involuntarily), and that sort of strange balance between being friends and foes started (Enos trying to help Dukes against Boss' schemes, knowing they were innocent, Boss taking advantage of Enos' naivety and sense of duty, and Dukes trying to avoid Enos had troubles with Rosco and Boss, along numberless shucks and jives, chases and arrests).
Daisy sighed, her mind still to those times, telling herself she wasn't Enos' closest relation, after all: she loved Enos and Enos loved her, but her family too had a great importance in Enos' life, and she should've accepted Enos preferred to talk with Bo and Luke about some things instead of with her. It wasn't a matter of being a better help for Enos, it wasn't a competition: they had different roles, she could help Enos in a way uncle Jesse (a fatherly figure, for Enos), Bo and Luke (Enos' best friends) couldn't, and vice versa.
Clouds covered the sun, and rain started to hit violently the kitchen's window.
Rain, the first rain of that early fall, summer's goodbye to Hazzard's fields, rain hitting the patrol car's windscreen as Enos drove to the farm.
Rain ticking on the patrol car's roof, that ticking piercing Enos' ear, remembering him that same tickling on July 16th: what a strange thing, remembering the sound of the rain on a roof as you're dying because of a severe beating, violent rain after a hot day, as sometimes happens in summer.
It was the first time he heard the rain since that day (maybe it rained when he stayed in the Hospital, but at that time he wasn't aware of things around him because of sedatives), and its effect hit him as a baton's blow.
He stopped the car, catching his breath, and, not standing anymore that evil ticking, he came out the car, sitting near a tree, his back against the trunk while the rain lashed him, looking at the car in front of him and trying to push away the terrific images and feelings overwhelming him.
"He's here," Daisy ran to the living room's door as soon as she heard Enos' car stopping in front of the farm.
"Enos, sugar," her smile fading when she opened the door, she turned to the kitchen, calling for help, "Uncle Jesse! Luke! Bo!"
"Enos, what happened? You're soaked!" uncle Jesse came closer Enos, scared and worried not by Enos being soaked but by his absent look.
"I… Just the rain. I… don't like rain. That day, too…"
Luke and uncle Jesse looked at each other, a knowing and serious look, whereas Daisy and Bo's shocked eyes were still fixed on Enos.
"Luke, fill the bathtub with hot water," uncle Jesse's eyes moved from Luke to Enos, "and you, Enos, look at me," his hands gently resting on Enos' shoulders.
Enos had a deep breath as his look slowly focused on uncle Jesse, losing the previous emptiness, "Hi uncle Jesse, I hope I'm not late for dinner. This rain…" he shook his head, looking down at the floor, "… confused me. I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you. Now I feel better."
"The bathtub is ready," Luke came out the little bathroom, "Come on, Enos, you're shaking like a leaf. Have a hot bat 'till the dinner is ready."
Daisy woke up from her shocked state, she came closer Enos and she simply hugged him, her head on his shoulder, no words to say.
"Thanks Luke. I appreciate it," Enos nodded, his voice soft.
She looked at Enos walking to bathroom, the door closing behind him, and she walked to her uncle, resting her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her waist, "Oh uncle Jesse," her voice cracking.
"He had the same empty look of that day, at the pond, after the crash," Bo's first words, his worried eyes lingering from Luke to uncle Jesse and Daisy, "but… this morning he was fine!"
"He needs more time, a LOT of time to recover from what he faced," Luke patted gently on Bo's shoulder, "so, finish to prepare dinner and try to give him something good to focus on. I don't know what's the matter with rain, but… I suppose the day he was beaten it rained. I bet a violent storm hit L.A. that day, a sudden and violent rain as today."
Uncle Jesse gently parted from Daisy, heading to the boys' room and coming back with dry clothes in his hands, "Daisy, help Bo and Luke to cook dinner, please," then he walked to the bathroom, knocking at the door, "Enos, may I come in?"
From the other side of the door, Enos' muffled voice answered uncle Jesse; when uncle Jesse opened the door, Daisy glanced inside: she saw Enos' shoulders as he was sitting into the bathtub, his protruding blade shoulders and spine marking his thinness and weakness.
Sitting in the bathtub, his arms wrapped around his bent legs and his chin on his knees, the water covering him up to his chest, he stared, hypnotized, at small drops falling from the closed faucet and forming circles into the water, that gentle trickling the only sound around him 'till uncle Jesse's knocking at the door.
"Some dry clothes."
Enos turned to the older man, reading on his face worrisome and embarrassment.
"Enos, if you want to talk… whatever you want to say… I'm here. I don't want to force you, but… remember I'm here… we're here."
"Thanks, but I don't want to talk about anything, right now," his voice calm but firm as he kept on looking at uncle Jesse, the man's look turning from worrisome to sadness.
When uncle Jesse left, he turned again to the circles in the water, circles reflecting his thoughts as he wondered why everything was so difficult.
Up and down. Up and down. Every time he was finally up, grabbing a pleasant feeling, an opposite force pushed him down, and the more he was up the more his falling down was rough and painful.
What's his future? Spending the rest of his life on that rollercoaster? Reaching, definitively, that "up"? Falling down, definitively, unable to stand up again?
He felt like if his energy was flowing away; he felt like a wet and wringed rag. And he knew it wasn't just 'cause of his physical injuries, since he was feeling stronger and stronger after his coming back from L.A. (not strong as before his leaving, of course), and pain was becoming less frequent.
His body was healing, slowly, but not his mind.
He was scared.
He was angry to himself because of his inability to stand up, he was angry to himself because of his weakness, and he was angry to himself because he wasn't able to hate people who shattered him; he was angry to himself but not to people who betrayed him in the worst way, to the point that, at the end, he betrayed himself.
The smell of fried fish and hushpuppies reached him, and his stomach grumbled, his body's signal he was still alive, his impulse to the "up".
He stood up and he grabbed a towel, following that vital impulse and wondering for how many times, again, he'd have stood up after a fall.
Walking to the door, he told himself that someone unable to hate, like him, was unable to defend himself; he told himself that someone who is unable to defend himself is unable to defend people around him.
He told himself he was a useless cop.
When, few after, during dinner (a peaceful and quiet dinner, Dukes trying their best to make him feel at home and managing to make him laugh from time to time), he told Dukes he was thinking to resign, becoming a civilian, Dukes looked at him in shock.
LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK
When he opened his eyes, in that Hospital's bed, two men were looking at him: detectives' outfit. He sighed, knowing they were going to ask him what happened.
If he hadn't been trapped in that bed, he would've stood up, walking away.
He listened to their questions, his eyes closed, answering them as they wrote his words on their notebooks.
They forced him to remember everything of that day, day coming out from the fog after several day spent in I.C.U., unable to answer to anybody.
Question after question.
"Did you see them?"
"I was blindfolded." Nausea.
"Did you hear their voices? What did they tell you?"
"Nothing, they didn't say a word." Headache.
"How did they hurt you?"
Not that question! He wanted to run away. He opened his eyes and he looked at the detectives, the one with cold blue eyes and the other one with deep dark eyes.
He told them about the beating, everything about the beating except the most important thing.
"I think they hit me with… baseball bats."
Cold sweat as he observed the two detectives, their eyes lingering on him, and he couldn't understand if they were satisfied by his answer.
Cold eyes.