Ashes to Ashes:
Rated T
Inspired by Annie Proulx's characters and the film of BBM.
Ennis was shocked to see how run down the ranch was – could only see a couple of scrawny looking cattle in the distance. The Twist place itself hulked - ramshackled, dried out, cracked and peeling.
Mrs. Twist, it was she he supposed, appeared at the door, down at heel and ghost-like. She made him welcome nevertheless – offered him cherry pie and coffee – rustling and moving paper bags around on the side shelf in the kitchen.
'The old bastard', or 'old son of a bitch' to use Jack's phrases, sat at the scrubbed table with his hostile gimlet eyes regarding Ennis. Ennis told him he would be happy to scatter the rest of the ashes on Brokeback Mountain. Whereupon John Twist spat into his cup.
Years he'd waited for his useless son to pull himself together and be a man, then he hoped some of Jack's wife's money would come his way – a small amount did, but John also had a taste for whiskey and gambling – he frittered it away. Then he thought Jack might come back with this Ennis here – at last give him a help with the ranch – but neither of them did. Then more promises with a new fellah. Nothing came to pass. So this here Ennis wanted something and for that no good son of his – well John Twist wasn't about to give THEM something they wanted. He started to rant but his poor abused wife, brave for her son, getting Ennis away from the wrath of the old man, paying mind to keeping her voice low and respectful, invited Ennis to go up and have a look around Jack's bedroom.
Slowly Ennis climbed the stairs – noticing the cheap paint decorating everything – a grey/blue hopeless, miserable colour. Jack's bedroom was decorated with it too.
Alone now he felt able to cry. Picking up Jack's toys of childhood he was suddenly overwhelmed with the heat and airlessness in this room, so propping open the tiny window, sat on an old bench, stared out as Jack must have done - Jack dreaming about the wider world and adventures.
Something caught Ennis's eye and standing he walked over to a little cupboard. Here were Jack's old boots and old jackets. A wandering breeze from the window blew the cuff of a shirt out of hiding where it was hanging in a recess. Slowly feeling his way Ennis discovered two shirts hanging together – Jack's old blue shirt over Ennis's old plaid one – bloodied shirts from their fight on the mountain.
Overcome then Ennis wept and held the shirts to him. He breathed in and swore he could smell the clear, fresh, sweet smell of that old time on the mountain…..and of Jack. 'Dear God,' he moaned 'Ah love ya, ah love ya'……too late.
Then, as he stood, he felt something in the pocket of Jack's shirt and drew out a small white package. Three words had been written on it in pencil 'Ashes take them'.
Downstairs carefully carefully carrying the rolled up shirts passed the old man, giving the shirt to the mother, who just as carefully placed the shirts in a brown paper bag, holding her hand to her chest as the old man gave his decree ' Them ashes are goin in the family plot!'
In time to come only a tiny fragment of ashes and mostly dirt mixed with flour will find their way into the family plot.
Ennis left the Twist place that day with the shirts and the ashes and, camping out overnight, at dawn scattered Jack's ashes over one of their favourite places high on Brokeback Mountain…..said a loving prayer and laid his darlin to rest.