Chapter 11: Races and Finish Lines

"Uhh, Luke?"

"I see 'em, I see 'em! Got any ideas?"

"You're the one driving!"

Luke took a deep breath. They'd come thundering along the stretch of highway at top speed, only to sight the small bridge up ahead with two Georgia cruisers waiting on the other side. The troopers sat in their vehicles, obviously not expecting the Dukes on their stretch of road, and Luke could see the scramble for radio mikes as they called in the sighting. Now there were no side-roads, no turnoffs, nothing to jump from and no way to make it across the broad river anyway, except by the guarded bridge. Luke slammed the brakes a few hundred feet from the bridge and whipped the car around in a tight 180. Bo thought he was going to try a different route – maybe up along 76 – until he hit the brakes and turned again a quarter-mile from the bridge. He floored the gas and sent a prayer heavenward.

"Luke…" Bo said as the General roared down the empty road.

"You got your seatbelt on, right?" Luke asked.

Bo didn't answer, only pulled the belt tighter across his lap, and thought his own prayers. Luke sent the racecar charging down the road between the metal girders of the bridge, and those two cruisers were rapidly coming closer…closer…closer… Both Dukes cringed and braced themselves for the impact, and a moment later, opened their eyes, miraculously unscathed. The troopers had pulled their cruisers back out of the way, unwilling to bust their necks in the one-sided game of chicken. Bo whooped delight and victory.

Soon, though, the troopers had pulled out and were bearing down on the General, so Luke didn't slow down a lick. Bo glanced at the clock – 4:25. Luke saw it too. Coming into more familiar territory, he continued to barrel down the roads, glad that they had stopped for gas so recently. There would be no stopping now, not until they got to the county offices in Hazzard with those checks. Bo kept watch on the troopers behind them, who couldn't catch them but weren't giving up. A few minutes later, he was thrown against the door when Luke swerved violently, avoiding another cruiser that had pulled out in front of them. Bo looked at the green squad car, and saw that it was no state trooper – it was Sheriff Little. They had entered Chickasaw County.

Luke cringed as the sheriff pulled alongside and slammed into the driver's side of the General, trying to run them off the road. He shoved back into Little with equal force, just enough to give the General running room to turn onto the dirt road up ahead – the Hatchapee Road leading southwest into Hazzard. Luke zigged and zagged, dodging down every shortcut and side-road he could think of to make time and try to shake his tails. Worse, he knew Rosco and Enos would be waiting at the county line, and they were quickly running out of time.

"What the heck…?" Bo said, again turned to watch out the back window. Sheriff Little had pulled off the chase, leaving just the two troopers behind them. A moment later, Luke saw the reason.

"The bridge is out up ahead! Hang on!"

Now folks, you might wonder just who builds the bridges in the area, since they seem to get washed out so often. It's the same company that builds these awful roads – Hogg Construction, Incorporated.

Luke slowed a bit and turned off the dirt road onto the grass, making for an upslope at the edge of the riverbank. The troopers followed closely. Flying up the natural ramp, the General leaped into a graceful curving arc over the sparkling stream, landing with a heavy THUD that rattled the Dukes' bones. The first trooper followed, losing some distance on the General as Luke sped off, but the second trooper lost his nerve at the last second and tried to brake, sliding the cruiser into the stream instead.

Bo laughed. "Two down, one to go!"

"Make that two to go," Luke corrected as Little pulled into view far ahead – he'd taken a second road with a sturdier bridge and a shortcut to boot. "And you can bet Rosco's up ahead."

"Well, we'd better make it fast, we've only got fifteen minutes to go twenty miles."

Bo braced again as the General swerved left up onto the embankment to slice around Little, but his older cousin expertly corrected and guided the car along, racing faster than they had on any moonshine run. If only Nascar could see them now! Through the cloud of dust in their wake, Bo could still see the trooper, siren wailing rather pointlessly by now. He turned to look forward. A mile ahead, Enos and Rosco both had their squad cars blocking the road, just on the other side of the white sign, 'Hazzard County Line'. Flash looked out the window of one car.

Luke surveyed the scene, and decided there was plenty of running room in the grass to the right of the blockade to go around. He'd time it just right, swerve at the last minute, and hopefully send his pursuers straight into the Hazzard Sheriff's cruisers. Then Luke saw the glitter of glass shards on the road, a few seconds too late.

"Hang on, Bo!" he shouted, already into the turn around the roadblock when he heard the POP of a blown tire.

Just as he'd planned, Little's cruiser slammed sideways into Enos and Rosco's cars as he tried to turn, too little too late, and the trooper managed to follow the General, tearing a tire himself on the glass. Neither Bo nor Luke was watching, though – the one was busy praying with white-knuckle grips on the door and seat while the other desperately tried to regain control of the skidding, spinning car. With unmatched skill – except perhaps by his cousin – Luke maneuvered the car left just shy of hitting a drooping weeping willow, and made for the road, fish-tailing wildly on the blown rear tire. 4:48.

"Luke, me an' the General don't like this!" Bo commented as they drove on down the road, jerking from side to side. He looked out the back. The trooper hadn't made it past the willow tree, and Rosco and Enos were still scrambling to recover their cruisers from the crash.

"Well, you and the General are gonna have to hang on a minute until we can find a good spot – get ready to jump out and change it."

Turning a curve and leaving the scene behind, Luke searched the sides of the road ahead and found what he was looking for – a heavy thicket of bushes where they could hide from sight. He pulled over, leaving the General running while they both leaped out. It took just under a minute to change the tire – a new Duke record. Bo threw the flat in the trunk and slammed it shut, and was only half in the General when Luke took off again, seconds ahead of the recovered Rosco, Enos, Little, and Georgia state trooper. Little was out of his jurisdiction in Hazzard County, but he'd be damned if he was letting the Dukes get away this time!

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Jesse Duke stood inside the Hazzard County clerk's offices, pacing nervously. Daisy and Cooter sat in chairs, while Seamus Flynn leaned against one wall. After hearing Jesse's story Friday, he'd decided to come personally to take the state payment and make sure there were no problems. He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. 4:58.

"Are you sure your nephews will be here, Jesse?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, don't you worry, Seamus – those boys of mine said they'd be here, and they'll be here if they have to go through fire and brimstone to do it," Jesse reassured him, though inside he was a twisted knot of worry. What if the boys were in an accident, speeding like that? What if they were hurt? Or robbed? Or worse?

The front door opened just then, with a ding! of the bell, and all eyes looked up hopefully. Hopes sank when the door revealed the rotund white-garbed figure of J.D. Hogg, smiling in a manner that was never a good thing for a Duke.

"Afternoon, Jesse! Those boys get here with that money yet?" he asked innocently, pulling out his watch. 4:59 and 40 seconds…45 seconds…50 seconds…55…5:00. "Well, well, well! The business day is over, and as soon as Rosco gets back, I'll have him escort you to your cell!" Boss exclaimed smugly, "You'd better get used to those bars, Jesse, 'cause it's all you and those boys are gonna see for the next twenty years!"

Seamus looked at his watch again. 5:03. "I'm sorry, Jesse, I…"

Movement flashed by the curtained window outside – a blur of blue plaid and cream. The door burst open and Bo and Luke tumbled in, gasping for breath. Bo had the briefcase in one hand, while Luke pulled the folded checks from his pocket and handed them to Jesse, catching hold of the wall as he panted. Sirens followed them as four cruisers skid to a halt outside, and before Luke caught his breath, Rosco was through the door with his pistol drawn.

"Freeeeezze, you Dukes!" he cried. "That's it, I've got you now, I've got you!"

"You ain't got nothing!" Jesse overrode Rosco's glee, handing Seamus the state check and Boss Hogg the county check.

Boss held up his hands, though, refusing to take it. "Uhn-uh, Jesse! This business day is over! You'll have to turn it in tomorrow when the county offices open again, from jail. Lock 'em up, Rosco!"

"Now hold on a moment here, Mr. Hogg," Seamus objected, "My watch says 4:59. Mr. Duke still has one more minute to make his payment."

"Well then you'd better get your…" …watch fixed! Boss stopped himself as he realized who he was yelling at. "Get your, ah, payment in quick, Jesse!" Jesse offered the check again, and with a scowl, J.D. took it, while Seamus Flynn watched with a smile.

Bo and Luke both grinned, and Rosco lowered his gun, but the state trooper had other ideas.

"I don't know what is going on here, but you two are under arrest, for armed robbery in the state of Virginia!" the trooper gruffly declared, taking hold of the boys by the arms. More than one surprised face turned to look at him - in fact, only two men in the room weren't surprised. Boss exchanged a sneaky look with Rosco, who stopped himself just short of snickering with glee.

"Now, hang on a minute, we didn't rob anyone!" Luke protested, "We was just trying to get home to pay Uncle Jesse's tax bill!"

The trooper, though, had the same bulldog mentality of Sheriff Little, who stood just behind him - once he got hold of something, he didn't let go. It took ten minutes of discussion and explaining, and another ten minutes of phone calls, to convince him to unhand the fugitives. As it turned out, the Georgia state police had been informed by the South Carolina state police who'd been informed by the North Carolina state police who'd been informed by the Virginia state police that Bo and Luke were dangerous felons, and the Virginia state police had no idea what anyone was talking about because they hadn't called anyone. In the end, Seamus Flynn ended up making a few calls, and once Luke agreed to pay for damages and for speeding tickets in four states - there was no denying either one - all charges against him and Bo were dropped.

"Thank you again, Seamus," Jesse said as the trooper and Little stomped out the door in a huff. At the back of the office, Boss was roaring insults at Rosco, while Enos congratulated the young Dukes.

"You're more than welcome, Jesse," Seamus replied. "Oh, that reminds me…" Checking to make sure Boss wasn't looking, he pulled out his pocket watch and reset it to the correct time.

"By the way, Luke," Daisy was asking, "How come y'all were so out of breath when you got in here?"

Bo and Luke looked at each other and laughed. Luke answered. "The General's radiator blew just on the other side of town, so we ran for it."

He gestured out the window, and they all looked and saw Hazzard's first official traffic jam. The orange Charger sat in the middle of the road a half-mile down the street, and the state trooper was shouting at Little, who'd rear-ended him when he stopped to avoid hitting it. While they laughed, Seamus walked over to Boss, who'd finally finished venting at Rosco.

"Now, Mr. Hogg, let's discuss property taxes…" he began, putting an arm on J.D.'s shoulder and walking him towards the back offices.

Now, wouldn't you know it? Ol' Seamus was back in Hazzard again at 9am Tuesday morning. Boss Hogg got his due when Seamus went over his properties and paperwork one by one, and handed him a bill that left Boss in tears.

As for Luke, well, they say 'a fool and his money are soon parted', and though Luke was no fool, he was too warm-hearted to keep all that money for himself. Once he'd paid for the damages and tickets he owed, fixed up the General, got some new playground equipment for the elementary school, and bought Uncle Jesse a new suit and Daisy a new dress, he had just enough left to buy a round of drinks at the Boar's Nest, which Bo used to propose a toast to Rob Fulton and Luke Duke, the best Marines in the Corps.

But our story ain't quite done yet, folks.

Later on that night, after a well-appreciated home-cooked dinner, Luke settled himself out on the porch. After the rollercoaster of a week and the mad race to get home, he was all too glad of the peace and quiet of home. He took a deep breath and sighed, staring out across the grass and the trees in the fading sunlight with his legs stretched out before him. Luke sat like that for a while, just breathing and watching and listening, the strain and tension gone from his thoughts. He yawned, and was thinking about heading inside when the kitchen door opened, and Jesse's heavy footsteps came out. Inside, Bo was saying goodnight to Daisy, and he came to the door to say goodnight to his uncle and cousin before heading to bed.

It was quiet again, Bo's footsteps faded and the bedroom door closed, when Luke commented, "He's still got that headache."

Behind him, Jesse nodded. "I'll give Doc Appleby a call in the morning, but he should be right as rain in a few days."

Luke nodded, and it was quiet for several more minutes before Jesse spoke again.

"He said you finally told him how you got shot."

Luke turned around with bewildered surprise. "You knew about that?"

Jesse smiled down at his eldest nephew. "I knew about that the second day you came back, when I saw that scar - there's only one thing in the world that makes a scar like that. That and the fact that it was six months before you could run ten feet without getting winded. I figured you'd tell us when you were ready."

Luke smiled, turning back to look out across the farm. It figured. "On the way back, Bo told me he'd always thought it was from getting my appendix out."

Jesse barked a short laugh and shook his head without answering.

Luke's smile faded, though. "Uncle Jesse - does it ever really go away?" he asked with distant eyes.

Jesse knew he wasn't referring to the scar. "No, Luke," he had to admit, "It doesn't. But you learn to deal with it in your own way, in time, and it gets a little easier. You never forget, though - not the bad, or the good." The old Duke patriarch had memories of his own, from another war a much longer time ago.

Luke pulled himself to his feet and turned to his uncle with a smile. "I wouldn't want to."He patted his uncle's shoulder as he passed. "Good night, Uncle Jesse." Then he went inside for a well-deserved good night's sleep. Jesse stayed out on the porch for a while longer, watching the sky thicken with clouds in the fading sunlight, before he went inside as well.

The next morning, it was pouring outside when Jesse woke to a dismal dawn. On his way to the kitchen, he opened the door to his nephews' bedroom, and saw both young men sleeping soundly in their beds. Jesse smiled and quietly shut the door.

The End

So, if you enjoyed anything of this story, of the vivid or realisticdescriptions and the painful emotion, take a lesson from it. If Luke needed a hug, I figure there's a few hundred thousand or more like him that could use a hug, a plate of cookies, or a friendly ear.