Man Defined
by: Lisa Philbrick
(Author's Note: I used the definition from my Webster's dictionary for this one and you'll see why.)
Rosco
was what the word reprobate was all about...
"Rosco
Coltrane, you old reprobate. If your momma heard you talkin' like that, she
wouldn't show up at church this Sunday..."
Sheriff
Rosco P. Coltrane selected the dictionary off the book shelf in the booking
room and turned back to the booking desk. He flipped open the book, turning
pages and finding the entry for the word reprobate.
"To
disapprove of strongly;" he read aloud. "Condemn....to reject or
abandon....without principles; depraved; corrupt--" He narrowed his eyes,
"lost in sin; rejected by God. A very bad or immoral
person; scoundrel." Scowling, he closed the book with a loud bang.
"I'm
not a scoundrel!" he declared to the empty booking room. Empty, save for Flash, who looked up from her place on the floor
and regarded Rosco for a moment. He looked down to his faithful
companion. "Am I Flash?"
She
just looked back at him, giving no bark in reply. In the quiet
of the room, Rosco pondered the definition of reprobate, one word
of the definition sticking out more than the others. Corrupt.
He knew
what that meant. How often had he heard that when people were referring to him
in hushed and no so hushed tones? Crooked lawman. Bought. Bribed.
"I
know you're the best, Rosco....the best law man my money can buy..."
Rosco
sighed heavily, feeling the weight of each part of the definition
of reprobate. He had rejected and abandoned the straight as an
arrow law enforcing he had been known for since he first put on
the Sheriff's badge. Now he was without principles. Principles
of his own, anyway. Everything he did was by, for or because of
Boss Hogg. Corrupt. He took rakes off various vices committed
in Hazzard and turned the other way while various crimes ran rampant
in the county. Corrupt....bought off.
Lost
in sin; rejected by God....
"Am
I?" he whispered. He looked to the window and the blue sky beyond.
Sometimes he felt lost. Sometimes he felt rejected. He knew what he was doing
was wrong. He knew it was, but he was too far gone now. He wasn't completely immoral, but half way
was too far.
Rejected by God. He'd grown up God fearing. He went
to church every Sunday, said grace before his meal and prayed to the Lord above
when his life and heart were troubled. Was he rejected by God because he had,
in turn, rejected law? The law he had taken an oath way back when to uphold,
the justice he vowed to seek, the service he pledged, the duty he said he would
fulfill, all thrown away because.....
Because his pension was taken away. He wasn't going to get
paid, so in bitter anger he turned his back on the law, thinking to get in
bribes and rakes what he lost in his pension. But there was no price that could
be put on what he had lost otherwise.
Rosco
closed his eyes and sighed. No, there was no price that could be put on that.
He had lost much more than he ever thought he was going to gain.
"I
am..." he conceded. He opened his eyes and looked down at
the dictionary. You are, Rosco P. Coltrane. You're what teh
word reprobate is all about... He picked up the book and returned
it to the bookshelf. He turned back to the booking desk, wondering...could
he change? Was it too late?
He
looked at Flash. "It's never too late to...change. Is it, Flash?"
This
time the basset answered him with a resounding bark.
"Yeah,"
he said softly. Rosco picked up his black hat off the booking
desk and put it on. He then stepped down and walked to Flash,
gathering the basset hound up in his arms. "Yeah," he
repeated. "Rosco P. Coltrane ain't no scoundrel...yer daddy
ain't no scoundrel." He headed to the booking room doors.
"I can prove it..."