Author's Note: Just read the original short story "Brokeback Mountain" yesterday evening. Hopefully I will soon be able to view the Heath Ledger flick of the same title as well. In any case, this is just something I wrote thinking Annie Proulx could've gone into more detail about Jack's bull riding career (it really is a tough and amazing sport), and wondering what would happen if Ennis came to watch one of Jack's performances.
The mid-July Texan sun beat down hard and hot on Ennis del Mar's back and shoulder blades through his thick checkered shirt of long-sleeved flannel as he sat languidly slouched near the top of the eight rows of hard wooden bleachers situated on a small grassy knoll overlooking the rodeo arena, the brim of his Resistol tipped up off his forehead to protect the back of his neck from the merciless rays of heat, strong forearms resting on his lean thighs, supple, calloused hands dangling casually between his legs. Around him, young children bounced and shifted restlessly in their places on the benches as they munched happily on popcorn, cheering when the riders made their eight and groaning sympathetically when they didn't, their parents discussing - some would say arguing - about who was going to win today's event.
And then the most beautiful name Ennis would ever hear was uttered by the announcer and the cowboy leaned forward eagerly, an unconsciously wide smile spreading quickly across his face.
Jack Twist was up next.
- - -
Across the arena and down in the chutes, Jack Twist spread his wiry legs and began lowering himself down onto the broad brown back of a fine specimen of devil spawn. The bull snorted, tossing its great head - and Jack was forced to retreat in a hurry as the creature threw itself against the side of its boxlike space of confinement.
Jack emitted a somewhat hysterical giggle. "Feisty little son-of-a-bitch, inn'e?"
The others chuckled softly amongst themselves, murmuring agreement as Jack once again tried - and succeeded - to settle down on the piece of masculine livestock. One great black orb rolled back to look at him; Jack gave the beast a nod of acknowledgement. This had to be the meanest bull Jack had ever set eyes on in all his twenty-three years - t'would be best to treat it with respect. He could feel the testosterone buzzing through the demon as he wrapped the coarse, flat-braided rope - already draped around the bull's sizeable girth - around his rosin-gloved hand once, twice, three times for luck as he threaded it through his long narrow fingers for security and gripped it tight. For the briefest moment, the tingling energy brought back sweet memories of warm nights held in Ennis's loving arms up on Brokeback Mountain. . .
Jack shook off the reminiscence; there was no time for that now. He pulled his trademark cowboy hat down snug over his brow and rested his free hand on the top rung of the metal gate. He inhaled deeply -
And let the breath out slowly, and gave the nod, head jerking rapidly up-and-down several times as he yelled, "All right, boys - all right!"
The gate swung open, and the bull threw himself out of the chute, with the unlucky competitor along for the ride. The creature landed hard on his fore hooves - the adrenaline-rushing jolt took Jack's breath away - twisting in the middle while lifting his posterior, his rear hooves flying up so high that for a moment Jack fancied that out of his peripheral vision he saw them running parallel with his ears.
- - -
Ennis watched in awe. Jack's form was perfect: free hand held up and away from the body, chest and shoulders high, loose rippling spine - nothing tense, everything one with the bull.
The stud animal twisted and turned, whipping itself into quite a frenzy, around and around as it bucked, trying its best to shake the rider on its back - but its efforts were to be in vain, for at eight seconds the whistle blew, the cowboy still mounted and strong. Everyone began to cheer -
And that's when things went terribly wrong.
Jack had apparently miscalculated the timing for the awkward jump-fall that would be his dismount: the creature bucked again just as he loosened his grip on the rope, so he was thrown forward; his hat was knocked off as his brow connected with the bull's and he was tossed head-over-heels to the ground -
And then the four-legged hellspawn was pounding Jack into the dirt, hooves slamming mercilessly into his groin, his chest, his face.
Ennis's heart splintered in a million shards of broken muscle.
He jumped to his feet and before he knew it he had leapt the fence and was sprinting to Jack's side -
But the strong arms of two of Jack's fellow riders held him back as they told him the doc would get there in time, that the clowns had gotten the bull off and that Jack would be all right - but the distraught cowboy didn't, couldn't hear them.
All Ennis was aware of anymore was Jack's broken form lying still and unmoving in the dust - oh, so much blood, endless spilling blood - and his own agonized screams.
"Oh no, Jack - no, no, no! JACK! JAAAAAAAACK!"
- - -
They let Ennis into the med tent half-an-hour after the new patient had been fixed up, cautioning him that Jack needed his rest - so don't excite him.
Ennis nodded in understanding, removing his hat as the doctor left to report back to the event personnel on Jack's condition, leaving the two alone; Ennis sat gingerly on the edge of his partner's cot.
Jack groaned in pain and squinted up at Ennis. His face was covered in red and purple bruises; one eye was black and swollen shut - not to manage the thick layer of bandages wrapped around just about every other inch of his body.
"Did I win?"
Ennis couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "All them injuries an' all you cares about is winnin' that belt buckle. Yeah, Jack, you won - an' I couldn't be more proud'a you." Ennis's smile disappeared for a moment, his throat tight as he leaned over Jack and gently rested their foreheads together. "I thought I'da lost you for a minute there, Jack Twist."
"Don't you worry yourself none, Ennis - I ain't gonna leave ya." They smiled. Now, if but only for this one moment, nothing would separate them.
Pearlescent tears mingled on their cheeks as their lips met.
END
I know, I am just EVER so mean and torturous to my characters, am I not? (hahaha) R.S.V.P.