Part 1
October, 1988
Ennis handed the keys to the new owner's agent, stepped into his truck, and bade farewell to his home of the past four years. Hard to believe, four years at one place, acknowledged as second only to the foreman, five years since…
A gust of wind caught the horsetrailer and brought him back to the business at hand, navigating the highway to a place to stay until he could land another job. No time to dream of Jack, not yet, anyway, tonight would come soon enough.
Still, his mind wasn't on the road, and before he realized it, he had missed the turn towards his married daughter's house and was still headed north and east. Only one destination in that direction, a time-worn home on a time-worn ranch in the middle of nowhere. But Jack's presence felt stronger there, maybe so strong that Jack pulled Ennis back to the place Jack couldn't get away from fast enough yet had ended up in for all earthly eternity. Ennis didn't change direction. Almost felt like Jack traveled with him, elbow resting on the door frame of the open window, black Resistol tilted back on his head, hair blowing in the wind, smile on his face.
As he turned at the mailbox announcing "John C. Twist", Ennis thought that the place looked even more meager than before. All pretense of holding its own had melted away, replaced by a sullen awareness that, in time, this too would become another abandoned windowless box surrounded by leaning buildings and fallow land.
Pulling up to the side of the house, he left room for the car parked in front to angle out. For some reason, he didn't go to the kitchen door this time, like all the other times. Instead he walked over to the front door. Voices floated out on the mid-afternoon air through the open door, blown around like the leaves from the elm trees sheltering the house on the West.
"Nope, no thanks, Hal, we'll do just fine," came a voice that Ennis recognized as Mr. Twist's, but with an unfamiliar edge of sadness.
"But Johnny…" That must be Hal.
"No buts, Hal, her mind's made up and so's mine. This's been our home for over 50 years, and we ain't leavin' now."
"You're sure? Millie and me, we have plenty of room, close to a hospital, good doctors."
"I know, I know, we've been all through that, she would have better care, family around, people to talk to, not so damn lonely…" A deep sigh. "But no, this is where we'll stay; we'll make the best of it."
"Well, okay, if you're sure that's what you want."
"We're sure. Now you best be gettin' along, don't want Millie to be frettin' 'cause you're late."
The screen door opened out, and two men stepped onto the porch. Ennis recognized Mr. Twist, but didn't know the other one. They stopped when they saw Ennis standing at the foot of the three porch steps.
"Oh, it's you," said Mr. Twist, with a flat, though not unfriendly, voice.
"Mr. Twist," replied Ennis.
"Didn't expect to see you."
"Didn't expect to be here, but… well…"
Mr. Twist turned to the man next to him. "Hal, this is Ennis Del Mar, he was a… was Jack's best friend. Ennis, this here's Jack's Uncle, Harold Sullivan, Elaine's older brother."
"Howdya do, sir," said Ennis, holding out his hand.
"Fine, fine, nice to meetcha," replied Uncle Hal, gripping the outstretched hand firmly. "Call me Hal, everybody does, Jack did."
"Yeah, I remember."
"You do? From where?"
"Summer we were 19, back in '63, herded sheep all summer together, Mrs. Twist sent word that you were sick in the hospital, weren't expected to make it, then got better."
"Oh yeah, that was a long time ago, auto accident; some drunk driver blew a stop sign and plowed right into me, still got some reminders from that, especially when it rains." He smiled and turned to Mr. Twist. "Remember what I said, and call me and Millie if you need anything, anything at all, right?"
Mr. Twist gave him a tolerant smile. "First on the list."
"Okay, then. We'll see you soon. Bye, Ennis, hope to see you again, too." And Uncle Hal got into his Mercury sedan and drove off in a cloud of dust that rose up after him, obscuring the sedan until it turned onto the paved road. Ennis' eyes followed him, wondering if Jack had watched that same scene from his bedroom window as a boy.
"Well, what brings you here?"
Ennis turned and faced Jack's father. "Came to pay my respects, say hello, and ask if it's okay to stop off at the cemetery for a few minutes." His voice faltered a bit. Forty-four years old and he still wavered in front of Jack's old man.
Mr. Twist considered Ennis, then nodded his head. "Sure 'nough, it's okay, like the other times." He paused. "Come on inside for a minute first."
Ennis followed him in, the screen door banging shut on yet another gust of wind. Mr. Twist turned to the right at the entrance to the dining room, and Ennis followed, only to stop dead in his tracks. The table and china cabinet and most of the chairs were gone, replaced by a hospital bed, hospital table on wheels swung over it, two end tables, one with a lamp, recliner on one side, dining room chair on the other. The sideboard held pill bottles, glasses, and dirty dishes, most of the pictures shunted to one side. In the bed lay Mrs. Twist, looking older and sadder than Ennis had ever seen her. Her eyes fell upon him, and she smiled, a crooked smile, using only the left side of her face. She raised a hand slightly from the bed, same side as her half-smile.
"What…?"
"Stroke, two months ago, came in for lunch and found her on the kitchen floor. Too far and too long for an ambulance, so I called the doctor, put her in the back seat of the stationwagon, and drove her in myself. Doctor says she'll get better in time, but she'll never be the same, maybe never talk… or walk."
Mr. Twist walked over and sat next to the bed on the remaining dining room chair, and gently took the fragile hand of his wife into his two time-worn rough hands. His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand, and she looked at him steadily.
"Hasn't said a word since that day. But I know what she wants. We're staying here until the end, both of us, too many memories, too many sorrows, too many reminders to leave behind. I'm the last of the Twists that'll ranch here, six generations including… Bobby doesn't want the place, said so in his last letter." His voice trailed off. "You and me, Honey, you and me," he whispered.
Ennis was taken aback. He had never heard anything from Jack or seen anything in his past visits that prepared him for this. So many questions filled his mind, some of them asked in Jack's voice. What had change that man, what had soured him on life so long ago that he would treat his only child as bad as he had, why did he hide this side of himself from Jack, from his wife?
"Don't spend much time outside these days, spend most of it right here, caring for Elaine. Sleep in the recliner, just in case. A home health care nurse comes by every day for three hours, helps a bit so I can get some chores done, but it's not enough time to do much. And she's cutting back to three days a week soon, seein' as how Elaine has stabilized…" Mrs. Twist made a sound. Mr. Twist stood up and gestured to Ennis. "Come on over and say hello, she's asking for you."
They traded places, and Ennis carefully covered the hand resting on the bed, the one that held his precious Jack as a boy and comforted him as a man. He put his head down on that hand and cried.
A gentle hand rested on Ennis' shoulder, and a voice called his name. He wanted to sleep some more, just a few minutes more, but the hand remained and the voice insisted. Dammit, Jack, the sheep'll take care of themselves for another hour.
"Ennis?" The voice wouldn't go away, and the hand shook his shoulder.
"Ennis?"
"Yeah?" He looked up, confused, and then Mrs. Twist came into focus, smiling her half-smile at him, and it came back to him in a rush. But the hand remained on his shoulder, someone else's hand. Jack? He turned to see Mr. Twist standing next to him.
"How long…?"
"About an hour. Happens to me, too, every now and then… less now than before, but still does." He looked at Ennis sympathetically. "The sun's moving along, it's lunchtime, thought maybe you'd like to let your horses out for a run, and then have a bite to eat with us."
Ennis agreed, kissed Mrs. Twist's hand, and strode outside. Twister and Sunshine waited patiently in the trailer, and greeted him with nickering. He whispered as he stroked their heads, and then led them to the corral next to the faded stables to join two other horses. They stretched their legs and whinnied at him as he leaned against the fence before turning their attention to the others. He gazed over the land and buildings, once again struck at their run-down state. Too much for one man in the first place, even more so now when his heart lay partially-paralyzed on a hospital bed inside the house.
Leaving the horses to their own devices, Ennis walked through the stables and the barn. Same inside as outside, the bones were good but needed lots of elbow grease to put them into proper shape. Equipment had seen better days, but most of the machinery looked only about ten years old or so. Brushing some dust off a nameplate, he read, "Newsome Farm Equipment, Childress, Texas." Old man musta shit a brick when that arrived, eh, Jack? he chuckled. Seemed like he heard an echo in return, agreeing with him, their own little joke.
Back outside the barn he leaned against the corral, one leg up on the lower rung, and surveyed the house again. Roof needed patching, maybe not make it through the winter wind and rains, siding needed scraping and painting, one window upstairs had wood over what should have been a clear pane of glass, some of the rest needed caulking.
If nothing was done, the place would go under, slowly but surely, become just another abandoned house with raggedy old curtains blowing out of broken windows, and where would that leave Mrs. Twist? She needed care, loving care, to give her a chance at living for the rest of her life, and not just wasting away in a hospital bed. And Mr. Twist, well, Ennis didn't know what to think about him, but he needed the land and the land needed more care than he had the energy or time to give. Without help, they'd end up living with Hal and Millie, poor relations in the spare bedroom, swallowing their disappointment, anger, and sorrow until it swallowed them. He knew that feeling.
Just needed time, never enough of that, though, never enough time.
When he came in through the kitchen door, the house was silent, no light but what came through the windows. He walked towards Mrs. Twist's room, and stopped before entering. Mr. Twist again sat in the chair where Ennis had sat, holding Mrs. Twist's hand, himself asleep. Mrs. Twist caught his eye and gave what he interpreted to be a smile. He smiled back, and returned to the kitchen to make some lunch from whatever he could find.
When lunch was ready, Mrs. Twist had fallen asleep herself, so Ennis gently wakened Mr. Twist and they ate sandwiches, potato salad, and fruit in the kitchen, in relative silence. Afterwards, they sat on the front porch steps, hatless, smoking a cigarette. To the east Ennis could make out mountains, but in all other directions were rolling plains. Couldn't see the nearest neighbors. Jack was right. Middle of nowhere, Ennis, all by ourselves. Mr. Twist cleared his throat, dropped his cigarette on a step, and crushed it with the sole of his boot.
"You know, if you're not in a rush to get anywhere, you're welcome to stay the night, wouldn't mind the company, and Elaine would like it, too. You can use Jack's room, and you'll find plenty of space and feed in the stables for your horses." He folded his hands and rested his arms on his knees, bending forward a bit, not looking at Ennis. "Don't know why you would want to, though. I know I haven't been, um, particularly welcoming in the past, so if you decide not to, I'll understand."
Ennis just looked out over the land, not responding yet.
"Never could wrap my head around what Jack was… what you and… Jack… had between you. Didn't seem right, ran against what I'd been taught growing up. Took it out on him. Blamed him for everything wrong with the place and everything else."
Ennis stiffened, his heart rate increased, and he too folded his hands and rested his arms on his knees, bending forward a bit, not looking at Mr. Twist. Here it comes, Bud.
Mr. Twist took a deep breath and let it out slowly before going on.
"Just doesn't seem to matter any more, does it? I mean, he's gone and never coming back. We all lost something that day. I know I didn't show it when you first came here, or even the other times you came back either, but… well… he was my son, only child. And now that his mother is… Well, it just doesn't matter any more."
Ennis continued to sit without moving, his eyes firmly fixed on the horizon. He wanted to scream out loud, at the top of lungs, You're wrong, you asshole, it always matters, it did then and it does now. It matters to me. Jack matters to me, he always has and he always will. But he didn't, he couldn't, so he pushed it down and placed it deep inside with all of his other thoughts and dreams about his Jack, as Jack's old man continued.
"Not making excuses for what I did, mind you, just the way it was back then. Now, well, don't see the reason for holding onto that any more." He shrugged his shoulders. He stood up and leaned against the post at the top of the steps for a few seconds, looking outward and nowhere in particular, then turned towards the front door. "I gotta check on Elaine. Think about it and let me know. No hurry."
Ennis didn't look back.
"I'll stay."
The retreating footsteps hesitated. "Thank you. And Ennis? Please, call me John." Then they continued on, the screen door banging shut behind them on yet another gust of the Autumn wind.
Ennis stayed.
