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The Lake Isle of InnisfreeWilliam Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
(1892)
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Ennisfree by ic3
Friday, October 9th, 1998 began as just another day for Ennis Del Mar. He awoke to the ringing of his trusted alarm clock, quickly splashed cold water on his face at the washbasin and hand-combed his graying blond hair. He lathered his face with shaving cream and briskly shaved the sprinkling of silver-colored stubble from his face. Ennis was fifty-four and felt it as his joints cracked in defiance of his daily rituals. He was still ruggedly handsome with a defined jaw line and pronounced cheekbones. The creases created by his laugh lines (though he rarely did), his furrowed brow and crow's feet were testament to a face that experienced far more than its fair share of heartbreak and sorrow. Though still sinewy and muscular from decades of ranch work, the arduous physical labor ultimately took its toll on his body and he retired from hired ranch work several years back. The only trappings of his former life were his dirty cowboy hat, boots, a chestnut mare and a gray gelding, the only consistent companions he had all these years. He currently worked for Wyoming's Department of Transportation, conducting traffic around construction and hazard zones – reminiscent of his younger days grading asphalt surfaces on some of the very roads he's directing traffic on these days.
Ennis pumped the gas pedal and started the engine of his faded Ford F100. He drove onto the main road, quickly glancing at the side mirror as his trailer shrunk from view. Ennis squinted his far-sighted eyes at the gas gauge, as he spurned the use of glasses, despite constant pleading from his daughters. He turned on the radio and caught the end of a newsbreak, something about a brutal beating of a college student down in Laramie…
When he arrived on site, Ennis' co-workers warmly exchanged greetings and they set about their work as he readied himself for a long day pivoting a slow/stop sign for oncoming traffic. Between the waiting, the crackling commands from his partner emitting over his two-way radio and summoning vehicles, Ennis had plenty of time to think about his life. Though he was distant as a father and husband, Ennis proved a warm and caring grandfather. Alma Jr., his eldest, had two sons with roughneck Curt, 14-year-old Brian and 12-year-old Sean. Jenny, the baby, had one daughter, 11-year-old Francine, with her high-school sweetheart, Scott. Ennis spent much of his free time with his grandchildren and doted on them lovingly, inviting them to care for and ride his horses, camping in the wilderness of the Tetons, going into Riverton for ice cream or to take in a movie together.
His ex, Alma Sr., largely forgave Ennis for his marital transgressions, mainly because of her happier marriage to Monroe. By this time, Alma and Monroe had been married over twice as long as she and Ennis. Her repulsion and bitterness gradually gave way to pity for her ex. She hoped that Ennis would find love and not be so lonely anymore, even if she didn't quite understand the relationship he had with Jack Nasty. The times were changing and Alma heard more about men like Ennis and this October will further her understanding.
"Del Mar, break for lunch," the voice over the two-way crackled. Ennis' morning shift had ended and he made his way for the roach coach upon the arrival of his replacement. As per the usual, he ate his lunch unaccompanied… that is until one of the new guys walked up and tried to make conversation with him.
"Hey, the name's Travis", the stranger spoke as he approached. He was a young, imposing figure of a man, with a crooked smile, dark hair and hazel eyes.
"Ennis", was the reply.
"I'm taking the semester off from the University of Wyoming, so I landed this job, patching up the potholes 'n shit. Sweetwater County, born and raised, you?"
"Same, near th' Utah border."
"Howdy neighbor! Anyway, did you hear about that gay student at UW that was beaten and strung up like a scarecrow a few days ago? Damn, that's pretty messed up."
Shocked at hearing the word gay, Ennis could only nod numbly as he was immediately transported back to the fateful day he learned that his Jack died, 15 years previously… to the month. For the longest time, Ennis didn't think of himself as one of that kind, but when actor Rock Hudson succumbed to HIV/AIDS in 1985 and was revealed leading a double life as a gay man, the revelation that gay men weren't all effeminate hit plenty close to home. Still, Ennis detested labels and he wasn't about to start now.
Travis continued speaking, but Ennis pulled his hat down a bit further and fixed his gaze on the patch of dirt immediately in front of his outstretched legs. Visions of faceless attackers wielding tire irons, swinging them into the helpless form of Jack, sickening thuds of metal plunging repeatedly into human flesh flooded Ennis with dread and despair. Another vision revisited the remains of Earl in the irrigation ditch, likely the handiwork of his own father. Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach and placed the uneaten portion of his sandwich aside. He felt his eyes misting up, yet resolved to not betray his feelings in front of a stranger. Sensing a lull in the conversation, Travis nudged Ennis. "What are you thinkin', cowboy?"
"Dastardly shame tha' folks can't leave well enough alone", he managed to cough out, his soulful brown eyes willing a tempest to rest. The tough exterior withstood the internal turmoil.
Travis nodded in agreement. "Welp, it's back to work for me. Nice meeting you, Ennis."
Ennis resumed the rest of the day's work, quietly resolving the fact that it wouldn't be any easier to be with Jack today than in his youth. He cursed those that sought to destroy what folks like he and Jack shared.
At the end of the day, Ennis made his way home, more tired and burdened with emotion than usual. He placed an open can of baked beans inside an enamel-lined pot filled with water. The blue flame of the range licked the underside of the pot. When heated, he wolfed down the beans and washed it down with whiskey. He didn't savor the taste of either, but he was reminded of the many baked bean meals he shared with Jack during that summer up on Brokeback. Ennis recollected how the light from the campfire illuminated Jack's wonderfully bright eyes like dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves in the forest. After dinner, Ennis attempted to wash away his tears under the steady cadence of the showerhead.
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