A THUNDER IN THE DISTANCE

Coming out the Boarding House with Enos, the feeling of his lips still on hers, Daisy observed him walking to the Police Station, sighing, and, in order to wash away her strong and opposite emotions (sadness and joy, worrisome and relief, anguish and happiness) she headed to the drug store, remembering that, after all, she was planning to go to the town for shopping before Rosco called the farm and before she rushed to the town with a totally different thought than shopping in her mind.

She wanted to forget about Catherine Burns and about L.A., but she couldn't help but sniggering as she thought of her last meeting with the journalist.

"We're going to talk about it later, deputy Strate… when you'll wear something more than … those pink boxer."

Daisy's sniggering turned into a brief genuine and healthy laugh, so that Mrs. O'Connor, walking on the opposite side of the street, looked at Daisy in confusion, and Daisy greeted Mrs. O'Connor with a nod and a smile, chocking her laugh and feeling as a exuberant tomboy laughing in the most unsuitable moments (and, in effect, when she was a child, she was a exuberant and wild tomboy).

That laugh and the memories of her childhood refreshed Daisy; her hand on the door's handle to enter the drug store, she was still smiling and she barely noticed someone knocking at the window of the adjacent "Ice Cream Parlor": inside the small café Mrs. Burns was knocking at the window, beckoning Daisy to come in and join her.

It seemed shopping was going to be really difficult, that morning. She looked up at the terse sky, some dark clouds in the distance, and she entered the "Ice Cream Parlor".

Walking from the Police Station to the Hazzard's Bank, reproaching himself for his awkward and unsuccessful attempts of losing his conscience in order to totally forget of L.A., just for some hours (both beer and now Vicodin having a terrific and embarrassing effect on him), Enos stopped, hearing someone knocking at the "Whogg Radio" window: he turned to his friend Elton, his chubby face looking at him behind the window of the Radio, beckoning Enos to come in and join him.

Enos smiled: a talk with a good and old friend was what he needed.

Daisy sat on a chair in front of Mrs. Burns, on the table between them a cup of tea and a piece of apple-pie.

"May I offer you a cup of tea and a piece of cake, Daisy? It's my breakfast, and I'd be glad if you're going to keep me company."

Daisy's stomach grumbled, awaken by the scent of coffee and cakes, recalling her she left the farm without having breakfast, in that morning: the "Ice Cream Parlor" was famous for its ice- cream (the best ice-cream in Hazzard) but also for its cakes, especially along fall and winter, when people preferred a hot tea and a piece cake to an ice-cream.

"A hot tea and a piece of apple-pie, for me, please, Beth," Daisy smiled at the young owner, so accepting Mrs. Burns' invitation.

Waiting for her cup of tea and piece of cake, she stared at Mrs. Burns sipping her tea: the woman seemed to like it very much.

"This tea and this cake are awesome. So… sweet. In L.A. there's nothing like that"

"The Ice Cream Parlor is famous not only for its ice-cream but for its cakes too," Daisy nodded, smiling at the woman's compliment, South's pride, "especially 'cause Beth doesn't use salt instead of sugar in her apple-pie," then chocking a laugh because of her sudden and silly thought: she wondered if having that sort of silly excitement after a huge shock was normal.

"Uh, sorry for my… entering your fiancé's room in a so inappropriate moment, but… since you told me the door was open… well, I came in. I heard you laughing as I left," Mrs. Burns smiled, "so I'm glad you and your fiancé took it as a funny accident."

Daisy was surprised by the journalist's words, but probably Catherine Burns thought Daisy was still sniggering about that morning, and, in effect, she was, just few minutes before.

But, with her misunderstanding the reason of Daisy's sniggering, Catherine Burns was giving Daisy the opportunity to talk about the journalist's "we're going to talk about it later, deputy Strate": later? talking? Enos didn't want to talk to that woman, wearing or not wearing something more than "those pink boxer."

Pushing away the funny image of Catherine Burns entering Enos' room and looking at him and at his pink boxer, Daisy had a deep breath: it was time of a serious talk with that woman.

"Did a journalist ask you about me? This morning?" Enos sat down, putting his hat off and scratching his nape, "what did she tell you?"

Elton shrugged, "She's goin' to write an article about you, in the Los Angeles Time, WOW! You're goin' to be famous, Enos! She talked about you…," Elton's smile faded, "… bein' severely injured in L.A., and she said she's already written articles about other cops injured in the line of duty."

Enos had a soft shrug and shook his head, "I hope she didn't bother you with her questions," he looked down at the hat in his hands, "and with what she told you about… how I was injured. I… I don't like she talked to people about it, I don't want people look at me with pity," his hat in his hands, he started fidgeting as usual.

Elton looked carefully at his old friend, a serious look on his face, "She didn't tell me anything about how you was injured. She just asked me what you like to do in your free time, what kind of man you are, if I'm your friend, and so on. Beside, Enos, everybody's here in Hazzard understood you had a hard time in L.A., and everybody was wondering what happened. Now people will know you've been injured in the line of duty, and there's nothing to be ashamed of, but to be proud of, and everybody here in Hazzard is already proud of you simply because you are you, no matter what happened in L.A., and people look at you with affection and worrisome, NOT pity. You're a great example of self-made man," he smiled again and he patted gently on Enos' shoulder, "beside, that journalist won't find anybody saying a single negative word about you… and, in effect, she doesn't seem looking for something bad about you. So, don't worry. She won't find anything but good things about your reputation… or weird things, as your jumping your car while chasing the general Lee and your peculiar way to wash your patrol car."

Enos laughed, nodding, "You're right, thanks, Elton."

Her cup of tea and her piece of cake finally in front of her, Daisy looked at the golden liquid, inhaling its scent and trying to find the best words to say to that journalist.

"Please, Mrs. Burns. Leave Hazzard and don't bother Enos any more. He's doing his best to forget what he faced in L.A., and you're torturing him, recalling him everything. I know it's your job, and I respect your job, but you'd understand your job can hurt people, sometimes." Direct and honest, but polite, Dukes' style, her style when she wanted to protect someone.

Catherine sipped her tea, "Call me Catherine, please," she smiled, "I'm a journalist, and being a journalist means, sometimes, being nosy. We're darn snoops, as people tell us. And when a snoop smells a scoop... you know what I'm talking about."

"Having one police officer testifying against others in support of a defendant is a rare phenomenon in the courtrooms of Los Angeles, a break with the L.A. Police Department's notorious code of silence, the so-called blue wall of silence. It's more or less what we read in the newspaper, isn't it? It isn't surprising a journalist wants to interview the cop breaking the Blue Wall of Silence." Yeah, Daisy knew what Catherine Burns was talking about, and uncle Jesse already verbalized that concept.

"I understand your point," a doubtful pause, "Catherine," using her name gave their conversation a more delicate touch, a talk from woman to woman, "BUT, try to understand MY point of view. I'm worried for Enos, OK? Since his coming back from L.A., what happened to him is haunting him. I know he's trying, desperately, to forget and to go on with his life as Hazzard's deputy, forgetting everything happened in L.A. Then, you arrive to the town, and, BAM, like a bomb, you recall him everything."

"I think that if he opened up, saying EVERYTHING happened to him, he'd feel better. Don't you think?"

"Oh please, Catherine, don't play the one who wants to help Enos. Yeah, he'd feel better if he opened up, but you just want a scoop. You don't care of Enos, at all. He's just… a scoop, for you: the cop who dared to break the Blue Wall of Silence. Am I wrong?"

After another long sip of her tea, Catherine gently rested the cup on the table, "You're right. As I said, I'm a darn snoop. BUT, you know, if I'm here, months after that trial, it isn't only for the scoop. I'd lie if I say I don't want that scoop, but… you see, officer Strate… Enos… really impressed me, that day. I've ADMIRED him, so, I don't see him just as a scoop, I'm really interested in him beside the scoop."

"Were you there, that day?" Daisy held her breath: obviously, since she wrote those articles, that woman was there, at the Courthouse, and she was probably at the Hospital, checking information about Enos' condition, and it scared and intrigued Daisy at the same time, in her mind and heart that continuous fight between know (facing dramatic details) and not to know (imaging dramatic details).

"Yeah, I was there, and his strength impressed me. He was pale and I bet he'd have like to run away, but he did what he thought was right. He did his duty despite he was… shattered, and sad. Shattered and sad not because he feared retaliation, but because of his colleagues' actions."

Daisy nodded, "Yeah, he's…Enos. He always does what he thinks is right, and he values very much his oath. His job, and what it means to him, is the most important thing," her eyes focused on her cup of tea in order to hold back her tears and her stomach's squirming. She held her breath before to ask the most scaring question, "And… were you at the Hospital, too, during his staying there?" waiting for Catherine's obvious answer.

"Uh, yeah. I was there, day after day, to know about his condition. But they didn't let me see him; I just talked with doctors and with LAPD spokesman. I managed to see him the day he was beaten, anyway, just few minutes, as he was still in E.R. before the operation."

It wasn't exactly the answer Daisy was waiting for, and her hands trembled.

"THAT day, too? Did you see him?"

"And what about your partner, there. I remember his name was… something starting with T," Elton scratched his haid, "I don't remember his name."

Enos' smile grew wide, "Turk! Turk Adams, yeah! But he wasn't my partner, this time. I worked in a different division of LAPD, so I didn't work with Turk and Chief Broggi," his smile turned sad, "unfortunately."

"But… did you meet them, from time to time?"

"From time to time, yeah. And they came to the Hospital to visit me, several times, when I was there," Enos looked away from Elton, his eyes lost outside the window as he thought of his days as he stayed in the Hospital, no many cops visiting him beside Turk and Chief Broggi, and those cold detectives.

Looking at Enos' zoning out, Elton remained silent, uncomfortable about what to say.

Catherine's eyes stared at Daisy's trembling hands, "I'm sorry. I don't want to shock you with… ravaging details. He was in pretty bad condition, and he was unconscious, anyway. Since then I started to realize the truth behind his beating. What an irony of fate, the cop breaking the Blue Wall of Silence was the cop beaten hard. And, beside, I saw the marks on his body; trust me, I can distinguish marks of baseball bats from marks of cops' batons."

Daisy felt the air inside the Ice Cream Parlor becoming hot, the same feeling she had in Enos' room as she stared at his scars. She was feeling sick. She closed her eyes and she had a deep breath, remembering herself Enos was safe and sound and L.A. was distant and harmless, now.

"You know… the day I was injured… it rained, and it's why today…, It's strange but… that day I remember perfectly the rain's sound on the ambulance's roof… and then on the ER's windows."

Enos told her he remembered the rain of that day, whereas Catherine said he was unconscious, and it was written in the Los Angeles Time too (Officers arriving on the scene found him unconscious), the journal's words impressed in her mind: probably Enos lied between a state of unconsciousness and a state of half-consciousness, and, from the bottom of her heart, Daisy hoped the state of half-consciousness lasted as little as possible.

Her eyes still closed she kept on repeating in her mind Enos was now safe and sound, in Hazzard, nobody hurting him, nobody wanting to hurt him, and she relaxed a bit. When she opened her eyes, Catherine was staring at her, confused and worried.

"Are you OK, Daisy? You're pale."

"I'm OK. I don't want to recall that day, and… today I've seen Enos' scars, for the first time, and… I'm still a bit shocked, sorry," she sipped her tea, surprised of her confession: probably she was more shocked than she thought of, so feeling the need to talk about it to anybody.

"For the FIRST time? He's your fiancé, isn't he? Didn't you seen him naked since his coming back from L.A.?" an amused and surprised smile appeared on Catherine's face.

"I've NEVER seen him naked," Daisy blushed furiously, and the smile on Catherine's face became wider.

"Uh, so… it's true!" the journalist had a brief and embarrassed laugh, taking her time to answer to Daisy's questioning look, "well… people say that… Enos Strate is the oldest virgin in Hazzard. You know, I asked here and there some information about him… and, for sure, he's really interesting."

Daisy looked at the journalist with her mouth wide open, remembering herself she was talking to a journalist, not to a friend, and that "darn snoop" would've used for her scoop whatever she was going to say about Enos: she'd have been more careful.

The sound of rain's drops against the window informed Daisy that the sunny day just turned into a rainy day.

"Sorry Mrs. Burns, but I have to go, now."

Enos' empty eyes slowly focused on a woman running in front of the "Whogg Radio" window.

Daisy: where was she running, and why?

Coming out the Radio Enos called her, and she stopped her running, turning to him.

"Everything's OK, Daisy?"

"Hi, sugar, I was going to the Police Station."

"Why?" he came closer her, serious and a bit scared, "Is something's wrong? What's happened? Why are you running?"

"It's raining, and…," Daisy folded her arms, shrugging, her way to protect herself from the cold rain and to find the best way to say what she wanted to say: "… and I was worried for you because of the sound of the rain against the windows" sounded pathetic and a bit ridiculous.

"And… do you want to denounce the sky 'cause it's raining?" he smiled, washing away her embarrass, but in his smile Daisy understood he knew the reason of her running to him.

"Come on, sugar, we can't stay here under the rain," she laughed, she grabbed his hand and they ran, hand in hand, to the Police Station as a thunder exploded in the distance.

When the first bomb exploded in Georgia like a terrific thunder, Marion County's Sheriff called LAPD for help.

Late in that morning, detective Rick Molise (dark and cold eyes) and detective James Colt (blue cold eyes) entered L.A. airport.

Destination: Atlanta.

This LONG chapter (hope not boring) needs some notes:

1) it was time to explain Turk's and Chief Broggi's position about the Blue Wall of Silence. I was planning to do it, at some point, and I did it in this chapter :-))

2) Elton and "Enos' last chance" episode. I LOVE that episode for several reasons: I think it's the episode showing Enos' sense of duty in the best way (MY idea of Enos is in THAT episode) and I find interesting Elton's interviewing Enos and presenting him as "a self-made man, an example of success in Hazzard", and even more interesting and meaningful are Enos' words in that interview (deep and mature); moreover, I love how the whole town shows its respect for Enos and its rallying (being Dukes in frontline) in order to help him. I'm trying to use that "spirit" in this story, despite the rough and thorny topic: it's what I wrote in the summary and in my profile page, after all, so I won't bother you anymore about the sense of the story and my idea of Hazzard.