Title: Mexico

Disclaimer: all credits to the talented Mrs. Proulx, no infringment intended, no commercial use.

Notes: this is my first fiction, or better the first finished one. My mother tongue is not English, although i've studied it since i was 8. This piece has been written originally in English, unbetad, without emulating the "cowboy speech" i've noticed in other works. Feedback is absolutely welcomed, but please be gentle and remember this is my first attempt.

This is not a new update, I've re-posted chapter 1 with typing and grammar corrections after my Beta, Carol - who started working on this fic from ch. 2 – has finished her work on it. I hope it will be easier to read it now.

Thanks to all those who read Mexico, I assure I'm working on next part, unfortunately work is at his highest peak for me and Carol has a family meeting.

Chapter 1

Mexico.

Mexico was the most horrible word.

The one he once heard, spoken behind the barn of Jim Hilton's ranch, where the four hired men were sleeping.

They talked about young gals with dark hair and pretty boys with white teeth, always smiling.

They said that chicos were sometimes better skilled than women, surely better than sheeps, during the long months up on the mountains.

Ennis held his breath to remain invisible. So what happened to him and Jack in the summer of '63

was not so strange. He knew those men, had shared a lot of work with them in the past few

weeks, and nobody would dare to call one of them "queer", for fear of their hostile reaction. He felt better knowing he wasn't the only one partial to asses, so alone, but with an important difference: his Jack was not one of those boys, and they have kept the affair for more than a

decade. There must be something stronger between him and Rodeo, something he can't dare to properly understand but more than simply sex.

And now the same word, for the second time, from the voice of the wife.

Jack's wife.

Ennis called Childress on Wednesday, the evening after Jack showed up in Riverton, following the news of the divorce, and remained there for half an hour, maybe.

Dinner with his daughters was difficult, his mind was travelling with Jack back home and trying to prove why Jack was wrong in believing they could have a life together. The girls talked a lot about school and all those girly things, so his silence went mostly unnoticed.

He dreamed a lot during the night, dark images and strange sounds, but nobody was in the dream.

Next evening he heard the breaking news on TV, a terrible car crash near the Colorado-New Mexico border, an 18 wheeler full of chemicals versus 8 cars, early in the morning, lots of injured

people and five bodies, burned not recognizable. He did the math; Jack could have been there.

After that dream, he was really afraid Jack was there.

One single truck ... among one hundred, one thousand trucks running along the same piece of Interstate toward the South. But Jack was surely tired, after driving 14 hours to reach Riverton, and facing 14 more to get back.

He has always been a very good driver, making frequent stops and with a truck much better than his own.

But Ennis remembered those blue eyes, full of pain only yesterday and the way Jack turned to reach the driver's door, walking with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And it was Ennis who had put that damned weight on him.

Ennis grabbed a beer, tried to drink it but the taste was bitter, in the end he left the open bottle on the counter and went into town.

He stopped near the phone booth and looked around; nobody was on the street, the whole town was eating supper in the privacy of their homes.

Ennis felt relieved for the privacy and took from his wallet a small piece of paper, folded behind a picture of Junior and Jenny.

He knew the number written on it by heart, but the first time he grabbed the phone his hand was shaking. He tried to steady himself, breathed deeply twice, tried again and then decided to leave, but his feet refused to move. When he closed his eyes and remembered a smiling face, his fingers found the target and dialed the number without hesitation.

The voice of a woman, strong and with an affected accent.

"Twist residence"

"Sorry ma'am, I'd like to talk to Jack Twist".

"Who 's speaking?"

"Ennis del Mar, from Wyoming."

"You're Jack's fishing buddy? Sorry, he's not here."

Ennis felt relieved, imagining Jack safe and happy drinking beer somewhere, because his wife wasn't worried at all.

"He come home this morning, got something from his office and then two hours ago headed for a

sudden business trip to Mexico. Just across the border of ... Should be back in two or three days.

I'll tell him you called. Any message?"

"Oh...no...well, please tell him I heard about the big car crash."

"Yes, Jack heard it too, said he was lucky to leave Colorado very early. Good bye Mr. Del Mar"

"Goodbye"

Ennis was listening to the woman but his mind focused only on that ugly word.

Mexico. Fuck the business trip.

Fuck Jack, too. Liar!

He was only a cowboy, but not so stupid: Mexico was easy, beer, tequila and those boys and Ennis felt his gut ache from a sudden pain.

He threw a fist against the glass of the door and shattered broke it. He retrieved his hand

looking at the small rivulets of blood forming; the skin was bruised everywhere.

No pain, no sensations at all, like it belonged to somebody else.

Ennis saw his blurred reflection on a metal panel outside the booth and his face was upset.

He reached the truck and started driving north. It was always his escape route, nearer

Brokeback mountain and his memories of Jack.

He felt a foolish man, he was so worried about Jack and the car crash and now.. the worst news of all. The wife in Childress was not important, only a cover for Society; Jack was still living there

only for his son. Ennis was glad that the marriage was not happy, as Jack always said, and he took pride in the knowledge that for Jack he was the only one, had built his own life on this premise after their reunion in 1967.

But now, he had to face the reality. Jack and another man in a room with a low light, a bed with dirty sheets and the sound of a band from the half opened window.

The smell of dogs and tacos; people laughing in the street, the pretty gals shouting to the American boys.

And Jack lying naked on a bed, looking at a young man with a big smile, already bare chested and with his hands on the belt, Jack closing his eyes, the man now fully naked, touching Jack's shoulder, to make him turn on all fours, and then ... Ennis' vision went black and the truck skidded.

Ennis hit the brake just in time to avoid the fence on the right side of the road.

He leaned over the wheel and tried to breathe.

It was impossible. It couldn't be true. Jack was his, and his only. No foreign chico was allowed to

touch that silky skin, to put his lips on Jack's lovely mouth, and more important to caress the globes of that ass. Ennis was getting crazy, he never felt like this, neither when Alma cut him out from the conjugal bed, nor when he and Jack parted at the end of the first summer

His hands were shaking and his pulse was too fast to count the beats.

The pain felt all those years ago – when their summer together ended - was nothing if compared to this betrayal, it was the end of a dream, of his life as well.

He had been a fool and now was paying the price, realizing that he never fully understood Jack, his desires and his needs.

The vision returned and now Jack was under that man, who was thrusting with his hips and touching the chest, stroking in all the places Jack liked the most; then the man turned his head and looked at Ennis.

"So lovely..how you feel now that he is mine? You not worth of him"

Ennis suddenly retched on the wheel feeling the nastiest worst men on earth; the smell was ugly and he rolled down the window and leaned back on the seat.

I must do something, he thought, I got no wife, no home, no good job, and now I'm losing Jack.

He cursed himself for not letting Jack stay the day before, maybe only for one night, just to ease this pain now.

Jack could pass as a friend in town for business, sleeping on the couch after getting drunk, maybe eating out with him and the girls. He imagined the charm of those blue eyes falling on Junior and Jenny. One night together, and then explaining to Jack once more why they could not

have their own ranch. One night in his bed, Jack sweaty and panting under him, not under some cheap whore boy. After making love, cuddled in Jack's arms, he could relax and massage his little darling, repeating in his mind, again and again, those loving words.

"Jack, I swear ... you're the only one."

He felt the usual desire burning, God he needed Jack, hadn't fully realized it before now, before having proof of the need. That man was the most powerful drug in the world for Ennis Del

Mar. He was addicted, entirely and - the world be damned - cannot live without him. Nobody else was like Jack for him, Alma only a pale substitute for the strong body of that man.

It was all his fault, what Jack always asked was to stay together, maybe at first in the same town, later in the same house and Ennis always denied his simple request. It seemed clear now that he had denied Jack too much, and now it was too late.

There was a brand on that body, Ennis del Mar's brand, written in capital letters and Jack had better to realize it very soon, because Ennis del Mar was not inclined to let somebody trespass on his territory.

It was time to do something, and fast.

He cleaned the truck with a rag and headed straight home. Sleep came quickly and was blessed, now that he had a purpose; Mexico was not as great as Wyoming in his mind and he would find his man, at the cost of searching all the bars around the border, and more.

Before the first morning light Ennis put a bag stuffed with clothes and something to eat in the

truck, went to the ranch to talk to the foreman, cursed when the man fired him and started South.