- Everything Changes II -

It was the perfect night for camping: crisp, but not too cold, though Ennis worried constantly about the cloud bank he swore was going to dump a storm on us any minute. He went inside the tent early and advised me again and again that I should wisen up and join him, but I stayed outside—partly because this was just the kind of night I liked, and partly because I felt it was my duty to show Ennis a little defiance now and then. I stood in front of the fire, my hands tucked into my back pockets, watching the flames flicker; I could feel Ennis's eyes on my back, and smiled a little, the thought of him watching me as intently as he obviously was warming me more than the fire ever could.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed simultaneously, making me nearly jump out of my boots; I spun around in the air and managed to land on my feet…in time to be driven down to my knees by the torrents of rain that broke free of the clouds. Swearing, I half ran, half crawled into the tent, almost tripping over Ennis. He moved out of my way as quickly as he could, but I saw a smug little smile on his lips. He kept his silence as I dropped onto the ground next to him and yanked my dripping hat off my head; he stared straight ahead when I shrugged out of my soaked jacket, but could keep his silence no longer as I started to unbutton my shirt.

"Warned ya it would rain."

I'd been expecting it—no way Ennis could keep his mouth closed when he'd been right. I threw myself at him, and we wrestled briefly while the storm raged outside; but as usual, the match ended with Ennis the victor, holding me securely in a headlock, and for all my struggling I could not break free.

"Come on, Twist, I ain't that strong," he teased, ruffling my hair none too gently with his free hand.

"Gerroff me," I growled, shoving his hand away from my hair and trying to pry his other fingers from around my chin. His fingers finally sprang open, though I doubted it was because of anything I'd done. I scrambled away from him, plopping down onto the ground at the other side of the tent and glaring at him.

"Aw, come on, Jack, I was just playin'. Ya don't have t' get all huffy 'bout it." Still, I glared. "Damn, you're in a foul mood," he said mildly.

"You were makin' fun a me." I knew I sounded like a whiny kid, but I didn't care. "I got the right to be angry with you, anyways. It's my birthday tomorrow, an' you ain't bein' no nicer to me than you ever are. Don't seem fair."

"C'mere…" He reached out and grabbed one of my arms—the tent really wasn't that big, and only a few feet separated us—and pulled me towards him, holding me firmly against his chest. That surprised me—Ennis had never been much for cuddling, and to have him initiate it… Well, it was a pleasant surprise, and my anger at him evaporated almost instantly as I pressed my head into the crook between his neck and his shoulder, snaking my arms around his waist.

"I hate it when you're right," I mumbled by way of explanation for my anger, and he laughed softly.

"Think you'd be used to it by now," he said, only half-teasingly; I retaliated by pressing my fingers hard just below his lowest rib, making him grunt in surprise. "Come on, Jack, that ain't nice," he protested.

I felt inclined to remind him, "You ain't bein' nice t' me."

He sighed, my hair ruffling slightly with the exhalation. "An' I'm sorry 'bout that, alright?"

"You could make it up by givin' me my present."

He laughed. "Not a chance, Twist. Not till tomorrow. You're just gonna have to be patient. Come on—I'm tired. Well," he amended, eyeing what he could see of my chest with appreciation, "maybe not too tired."


Shit, was my first thought when I woke up in the morning. I'm old. I sat up, Ennis's arm slipping from around my waist, and found my clothes where they were scattered around the tent. "Get up, Ennis," I called, struggling to get my pants on. "Come on, I want my present."
was my first thought when I woke up in the morning. I sat up, Ennis's arm slipping from around my waist, and found my clothes where they were scattered around the tent. "Get up, Ennis," I called, struggling to get my pants on. "Come on, I want my present."

He rolled over onto his stomach, buried his face in the pillow, and mumbled something I couldn't hear. I "accidentally" kicked him in the side while pulling one of my boots on.

"Up, Ennis!"

"Jack, if it wasn't your birthday I'd tell you to fuck off."

"I know, but you have to be nice to me. Now get up and get me my present. I have to piss," I added.

"I'll alert the media," he said sarcastically. I grabbed his boots on my way out, noted how wet and muddy the ground was, and hid his boots in a bush. When I'd relieved myself, I got a fire going, set water to boiling to make coffee, started a can of beans (for old time's sake), and sat down on a stump, poking the flames and waiting impatiently.

"Where's my damn boots?" Ennis called from inside the tent.

"Damned if I know," I lied, smirking.

"Jack, gimmie my boots back."

"Not till you give me my present."

He pulled open the tent flap and glared at me. "I ain't gonna give you the present till I get my goddamn boots!"

I gaped at him. "You—you can't do that. It's my birthday—you gotta gimmie my present."

"Nuh-uh, naughty boys don't get presents."

"But…you said you'd be nice to me…"

"Gimmie my boots, an' I will be."

Grumbling, muttering curses, I got up and dug around in the bush for his boots; finding them, I turned and—with a considerably larger amount of accuracy then I had when shooting a gun—threw the boots at Ennis's head. He barely managed to duck in time, and I heard him swearing inside the tent as I stalked back to my seat. I had beans and coffee waiting when he came out finally, and I looked up at him expectantly; before I could even ask where my present was, he pressed a finger against my lips and said firmly, "Wait." He sat down, took his coffee and beans, and ate as slowly as he always did. I, on the other hand, nearly inhaled the beans and drank the coffee so fast I burned a trail all the way down my throat. My own breakfast finished, I sat fidgeting until Ennis finally rose, stretched his back, and said tiredly, "Come on, rodeo." I jumped up, and we saddled the horses; I plied him with questions, trying to find out where we were going, but he remained determinedly silent, answering nothing.

We rode side by side, Ennis directing me when he needed to. The trees thinned, and I looked around at the surroundings with interest, this being a place I had never seen before. Ennis urged his horse a little faster up a hill; I saw the excitement in his eyes, and felt my own excitement rising. Ennis stopped at the top of the hill and turned, fixing his eyes on my face. I rose my eyebrows questioningly as I rode up beside him, but his eyes never left my face, and I finally turned to look out over the landscape, my eyes widening slowly.

Nestled at the center of the little valley below us was a ranch house—nothing run-down like what Ennis and I were living in right now, but a place that looked like it had just been built. A good-sized barn stood to one side, and the whole of the valley was divided into six pastures. A dirt road wound its way out from the ranch house, disappearing at the other end of the valley.

"Ennis…?"

"You like it, Jack?" he asked softly. I nodded, unable to find any words. "Good, 'cause it's ours. Guy I know just had it built for his son, but it turns out the son's more of a businessman than a rancher. Got it from him for a real good price." He paused. "Happy Birthday, Jack."