A lone figure stands in the middle of Hazzard Square. There was no mistaking my cousin, standing there in the early morning fog, in his black uniform and hat.

I thought it odd that he was wearing his jacket on this August morning. But as I rubbed my sleeves trying to get the chill off I realized why he was wearing it. What happened to summer?

The square was quiet. So quiet that the sound of my boots thumping on the pavement as I walked towards him seemed to echo. Nothing stirred, heck the fog didn't even seem to move.

"Whatchya lookin' at?" I asked softly once I was standing next to him. He didn't turn to look at me, but shook his head as his eyes scanned the square.

"Nothing."

"Considerin' there ain't much to see, I believe ya," I said.

He looked at me now and smiled a little. "I's just thinkin', that's all," he drawled. "Been awfully quiet 'round here for the past coupla weeks."

I nodded. Unbearably quiet in my opinion. Nary a ticket had been written between us and Enos and Cletus. Boss gave up giving us heck for it, but told us we better get the quota back up before he returned from Tennessee. We didn't have much time. Or many targets.

The Dukes were busy with their farm chores. They came to town, maybe once a day and usually with Jesse's truck. No invitation for a speeding ticket there.

Boss, as I said, was in Tennessee on one of his get-rich-quick business ventures. Admittedly, the four us get pretty lazy when he's not around.

"No Dukes," Rosco continued. "Heck, even that yellow Chevy and the Trans Am ain't been tearin' around town either."

I nodded. "I know. They're around...just not in town." I quietly sighed and realized I was missing those 'Hot Pursuits!!' Once a Coltrane, always a Coltrane I guess.

Rosco sighed too. He adjusted his hat and turned to me. "Well, guess I'll go get out on patrol. If I can stay awake."

I smiled. "Maybe you'll see a blue Firebird tearin' around, to keep ya in practice."

He grinned. The sound of a car coming into the square made us both turn to look. It was Cooter, coming to open his garage for the day. We waved and he waved back. Business had been slow for him too.

"I'll see ya later," Rosco said.

"Ok." I watched him walk across the street to his patrol car. When he drove away, the white Plymouth all but vanished in the fog.