Author's Note: This is a two-part piece called "Always Enough." It obviously runs along the same theme as the previous chapters. Frankly, I think "Enough to…" could have been fine without this addition, but those voices won't seem to leave my head. I think it's interesting that as I keep writing my pieces get shorter and shorter… maybe Proulx is finally starting to rub off a bit.
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Ennis del Mar fumbled to bed, half-in and half-out of this clothing, hardly caring enough to fully remove it. He was at a point beyond tired, the place a man reaches when life has sucked the marrow out of him and dropped the broken bones back onto the plate. He had been surprised when Junior had wished him a happy birthday last month during her call, had forgotten that there was anything significant attached to this rusty old body, thanked her awkwardly and changed the subject to something simpler.
Ennis lay like a stone, in the slippery half-trance state between sleep and awareness. His dreams were now the most vivid part of his life; flashes of color on a white canvas. Tonight, he knew, knew what was coming. It was the day he marked each year, a day that had been as unavoidable and irrevocable as every moment borne of it.
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"Jack Twist."
Pause, hesistance. "Ennis."
"Your folks just stop at Ennis?"
Further pause. "…del Mar."
"Nice to know you, Ennis del Mar."
The dream bore Ennis through the eternity of those cold mountain days. True to life, they passed too quickly, burned too brightly to stay lit. The first time, Ennis had been burned by those flames and tried to protect himself by smothering them. Now, they provided him with a soul-deep comfort, a warmth he could find no where else.
"You gonna do this again next summer?"
"Maybe not… like I said, Alma and me's gettin' married in November…" as Ennis rattled off the words, something shifted, began to deviate.
"You know Ennis, maybe we should go get ourselves a drink and see if we can't figger somethin' out." Jack slammed the car door shut, stepped close to Ennis, not touching him, but leaning close to Ennis's neck, his lips brushing against Ennis's overwrought skin. "I'm tired a goin' over this again and again. And I think it's about fuckin' time you said 'yes' to one a my offers. So how 'bout it, friend? You ready to try somethin' new? 'Cause I been ready since the second I laid my damn fool eyes on you." He leaned back, lightly touching Ennis's cheek, and understanding was in his every gesture.
Ennis managed a barely perceptible nod and a shaky smile. Jack took his hands, and gave him a kiss that tasted of promise and sweet loss.
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For reasons unknown to the coroner, Ennis del Mar did not wake that morning. He was 69 years of age.
Ennis had never expected second chance, never thought he deserved one. But it was always enough to know; to know that Jack had given it to him when he hadn't even known to ask.