"Well Marla, he may be ma son, but I certainly have no control over 'im anymore. Ya know how these dinner meetin's go sometimes, people get ta drinkin' and well, Bobby jus' had a few too many. I'm sure this isn't the firs' time he's come home drunk."
Jack pulled their new Ford Excursion into the long paved drive. It was late now, past midnight and Lureen was on her cell phone with Marla, Bobby's wife. She was upset because apparently Bobby had come home later than normal and drunk as a skunk. The meeting had gone well, one more step closer to closing the deal with McGuire, and all present had decided to have a few drinks with dessert. Bobby, who took after his father in more ways than one (though he was really his mother's son), had gotten a little carried away, and Jack had had to call a cab to come pick him up and take him home. Bobby's house was in the opposite direction of his and Lureen's, and sine Jack'd had a few himself, he didn't trust himself to make the long trek to Bobby's and then back.
He pulled the SUV into the large garage and put it in park. He turned in his seat to give Lureen the "please get off the phone so we can go inside look" but apparently she didn't notice.
"If ya just leave him be, he'll be fine in the mornin'." Pause. "Well leave him on the couch then! God knows all the times Jack's come home and passed out. You'd never see me draggin' his sorry bee-hind to bed. Just leave him where he is and give him some aspirin in the mornin'. All right? Okay. Uh huh. Bye."
Lureen turned off her cell phone and opened the passenger door. She paused to look back at Jack.
"Well what the hell'r you doin' just sittin' there? Do I have to lead you everywhere? You'd think I was a damn mother duck, the way you follow me around sometimes." She grabbed her purse and slammed the door.
Jack rolled his eyes and opened his own door.
"Well fuck you very much too." He muttered under his breath. He followed the sound of her clicking high heels into the house.
He was getting' real tired of the way Lureen had been treatin' him lately. It seemed the older she got the bitchier she got. She was starting to remind him of her father L.D. and God save him if she ever fully converted.
He walked through the kitchen, where Lureen was busy turning off lights, went into the bedroom, and sat on his side of the bed as usual. He began to undress and shook his head. Truth was, Lureen hadn't always been like this. Once she had been a fiery little barrel racer in the rodeo. First time he met her, she'd been sittin' a top her racing horse, wearing the brightest red western style shirt and cowboy hat. Bright and red as fire, just like her laugh. She'd chatted his ear off and waggled her hips in front of him, just as fine as she pleased. How times had changed. How he had changed. He hadn't always been so resigned, so old. When he was young he had been able to charm the pants off of anyone he pleased, always rearin' to go, always full of energy, talkin' like it would save his life. He'd liked that about himself. Sure he was still a charmer, and he still had fairly good looks; strong features, salt and pepper hair, and eyes as blue as the day he was born, but for the past few years he'd felt subdued. He'd felt…unfulfilled. Maybe he was having a mid life crisis. But weren't those supposed to come when you were actually at the middle of your life? Wasn't fifty-six a little old for that?
Jack got up, clad in only his boxers and undershirt, and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He chuckled a little to himself. Hell, he'd been having a mid-life crisis since he'd been married to Lureen. Seemed like that woman had sucked all the energy he'd had right out of him. He grabbed his toothbrush from the ceramic cup on the sink and squeezed a little Crest onto it. He stole a glance at Lureen who was taking her time putting her jewelry away. She had already taken off her make up and her face looked washed out and old. Her frown line was pronounced because she was concentrating on arranging her earrings and her lips were puckered a little. She caught his glance.
"What're you lookin' at?" She gave him a cold glare and then returned to her prized diamonds.
Jack stuck the brush in his mouth and mumbled a quiet "nothing" before turning away from her. He watched himself in the mirror as he brushed. He looked deep into his blue, removed eyes. He didn't like who he'd become. He didn't like the man who was staring back at him. It was the face of an unhappy man, a man that didn't know where his life had gone to shit.
He finished brushing and spat out the toothpaste. He gave one more look in Lureen's direction and then headed back to bed. He pulled back the sheets and crawled in, tired back and hip groaning with the effort. He leaned back and closed his eyes. How had he let himself get to this point? Where did that youthful, energetic boy from thirty years ago get to? What had made him go into hiding?
His thoughts suddenly drifted back to the story. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. That story. The story that had him so incredibly summed up and so incredibly wrong at the same time. At least the story's version of Jack had happiness some times. He rolled over and stared at the closed drawer that held the bizarre book inside. At least that version of him had found love.
"Ennis Del Mar…I wonder what it would be like to kiss a man?"
Jack blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from? He flipped back over and propped himself up with his elbows. That sure had been a left fielder. Surely it was just because of what he'd read earlier, surely he was just tired and confused, and upset. Surely he wasn't actually thinking about…
"Woah, woah, woah, there. Slow down. Don't let yerself get all excited now. That didn't mean nothin'. Just…a thought. A thought brought on by the story. Brought on by Brokeback Mountain."
Brokeback Mountain. Just thinking those words made him get a little excited. Made something stir down below.
"Course, thoughts can't kill nobody…" Jack let his hand drift slightly south to the elastic of his boxer shorts. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body.
"Jack can you check if I closed the garage door?"
Jack yanked his hand out from under the covers and sat up.
"Sorry?" He gave Lureen his best sleepy smile. She sat on the bed, back to him, and brushed her bleach blonde hair into a ponytail.
"Jack, I swear, you never listen to a word I say." She tossed her hairbrush onto the nightstand in disgust. "Will you jus' go and check if I closed the garage door? I don't think I did when I was turnin' off all the lights."
Jack threw his covers off and got out of bed, anxious to get away from his wife, and anxious to get away from what he had just been about to do.
He left their bedroom and trekked down the hall and through the kitchen. All the lights were off and the moon wasn't out that night, so Jack didn't notice one of the stools that lined the kitchen counter was jutting out. He stubbed his toe hard against the cold metal.
"Goddamnit!" He cried and grabbed at his foot. He jumped around on one foot for a few seconds before the pain died back down and then walked the rest of the way to the utility room. He opened the door to the garage and flipped on the light. It was indeed closed. He turned the light off and wandered back into the kitchen.
He wasn't ready to return to bed, so he switched on the light that hung above the kitchen sink and got himself a glass out of the dishwasher. After checking to make sure the glass was clean, he turned on the faucet and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter by the sink and gazed out the window into the blackness. He turned off the light so he could see more than his own reflection and his thoughts immediately returned to Brokeback Mountain. He sighed.
"Ol' Brokeback's got us good."
He mused on the line that the book version of him had said. Well that was one thing that was true about both versions. Brokeback did have him good. It had him by the balls. In just the few hours since reading the short story, his mind had been completely preoccupied by thoughts of it. He'd been barely present at the business dinner, had smiled when he'd had to and had told a funny story or two. It had all been scripted, something he could have followed even if he'd been getting his teeth drilled. But all the while his mind had been away, it had been on Brokeback Mountain, off with some man he'd never met in a place he'd never been. The whole thing was gettin' out of hand, but he couldn't stop the feeling he had that everything was starting to change. He felt like the life he'd known was hanging on by a very fine thread.
He poured the rest of the water out, placed the glass in the sink, and headed back to his bedroom. He figured by now Lureen would be asleep and he would be free to do…whatever he wanted. Not that he wanted to do anything but go straight to sleep. Not that he wanted to think about another man touching his bare skin, kissing a line down his chest to his stomach, making his way…
"Jack, get a hold of yerself! These are crazy thoughts! These are queer thoughts. These ain't the sort of thoughts that you should be having. You ain't no queer, remember?"
His inner dialogue was interrupted when he got back to his bedroom and saw that Lureen was still wide-awake. She was sitting up in bed looking over some figures from the previous week's sales. She had reading glasses pushed down low on her nose. Jack's heart immediately sunk a little. He hesitated for a brief moment and then continued to his side of the bed and crawled back under the covers.
"So was the garage closed?" Lureen didn't take her eyes off the papers she had in front of her.
"What?" Jack had his back to her and was trying to block out the light from her nightlight.
She sighed. "The garage. After being gone for so long, you did remember to check, didn't you?"
Jack gave himself a mental slap in the face. He'd forgotten that's what he'd been sent to check on in the first place.
"Yeah it was closed." He kept his answer brief hoping that that would be all and he could just get on to sleep and forget about the whole day. Lureen wasn't having it though.
"So what did you get up to, today?" She had gotten in the habit of asking about Jack's daytime activities before they went to bed. It wasn't that she was really interested, it was more her attempt to keep up appearances that their relationship hadn't been completely tossed out to the pigs. Married couples talked about their day together, she always told Jack, and she intended to not let that get away from them no matter how far apart they drifted.
Jack sighed and rolled onto his back so he could talk but still keep his eyes away from hers.
"Well, I had lunch with Jeremy Kilburn, you know from the golf club, and we had a pretty good time. He talked the whole while about how he had gotten his game down by about four strokes."
"That's nice. You should go out more often with yer golf buddies. They're always invitin' ya to go out with 'em, but y'always seem to give 'em some excuse."
Jack rolled his eyes. He always gave them excuses because he fuckin' hated golf. Lureen was the one that said he should play. She'd gotten him a membership at the golf club and practically forced him to go. She was always tellin' him that golf was a sport that civilized businessmen played and that meant he would take part even if it did make him want to pull his hair out. Jack hadn't told her that what it actually made him want to do was ram a club up someone's ass. Golf was definitely not Jack Twist. Jack Twist was a cowboy; he used to ride bulls! He didn't want to ride around in a little cart with a bunch of other guys while they talked about the stock market and drank brandy.
He realized that Lureen was waiting for him to continue.
"Anyway, then I went to Wal-Mart to buy a book for Eliza. Know how she's been readin' lately. An' that's about it."
"Did ya pick up anythin' for yerself?"
Jack stopped breathing. Why would she ask that? Had she snooped around in his drawer? Had she found the book? Had she read it?
"Hold on. Yer being paranoid, Jack. When would she have found time to read it, and why should she care if you have a book in your drawer? And why are you acting like it's some kind of sin or somethin'? It's just a book. Just a story. Innocent enough."
Jack cleared his throat. Felt like his heart had lodged itself there.
"Uh, no. Why d'ya ask?"
Lureen wasn't even looking at him. She was still running figures through her head and only half listening to what he was saying.
"Well, I know how ya like to read before you go to bed, and I'd noticed that ya hadn't had a book lately. Figured you might've picked up somethin' new."
Jack let out shuddering breath. He let himself relax back into the bed. He'd felt like he'd just been cornered by a grizzly.
"I didn't see anythin' that caught my attention."
Lureen put the papers down on the nightstand and turned off the light. She worked herself down under the blankets and turned her back to him.
"I'm sure you'll find something that'll interest you. I heard there's a new Anne Rule crime novel out. I think Grace-Anne said she had a copy the other day. Maybe I can ask to borrow it from her."
Jack kept on starring at the ceiling. "Well sure. If'n Grace-Anne ain't readin' it or nothin'. Don't want to interrupt her enjoyment of such fine literature."
Jack might has well have been talking to a wall because Lureen's breathing had already slowed and he knew she was asleep. Jack didn't feel a bit sleepy anymore. Too many things on his mind. Some troubling, some strangely pleasant.
Jack had spent the morning at work. He had cut down his time in the office to about three or four mornings a week. He went in, made himself seem useful, made a few phone calls, and listened to frantic managers from other dealerships rant about how the latest shipment of row crop units hadn't arrived yet. He was good at calming people down, used his smooth salesman voice and reassured them that it would be there by the time they needed it. It was like calming a spooked horse, you rubbed their neck and smoothed down their mane while whispering calmly into their ear. Easy stuff. The tough thing that he'd been overseeing for the last couple of years was their new website. They'd hired some technical guys that called themselves "webmasters" to take care of all the really complex stuff and to keep the site running, but for some reason Lureen had seen to it to appoint Jack as the overseer. He figured it was just because she didn't want to handle it herself. Jack mostly left it to a couple of public relations people but he still had to be the man at the top, the one that made sure everything was okay. Everyone had to run things by the boss before they could put it online, and that just meant more headaches for Jack. Lately, things had been under control, and he'd only been needed when there were going to be big announcements or changes.
This morning though, he didn't really have much to do. He could have stayed home again, but he hadn't wanted to be alone in the house with the book shut up in his drawer. So he'd come to work. At least it gave him something to preoccupy himself with. In a couple of days Eliza would be back from Girl Scout camp and he would take her out for the day and give her the Goosebumps book he bought her. He smiled at the thought. Eliza was a bright star in his day-to-day gloomy existence. She was so full of life. Even though she was just a little girl, Jack could see the wild energy waiting to bust forth in her big blue eyes (blue eyes had become a Twist family feature, it seemed.), energy that reminded him so much of the boy he had once been. He loved his little girl like nothing else. She was the child he had never had because Bobby had turned out much like Lureen. He was a hardheaded businessman, spoiled by the good life. But Eliza, well, Jack had no idea where she had gotten her spirit.
"Certainly not from her Daddy."
Maybe it was true that genes skipped a generation.
So Jack had sat in his office twiddling his thumbs for a while and sharpening pencils. He'd taken one phone call that hadn't been too terribly urgent and then he'd gotten up to pour himself a cup of coffee. Lureen's secretary, Grace-Anne, stopped him on the way back to his office.
"So I hear that yer an Anne Rule fan." She had stopped what she was doing at her desk and was sitting up in her computer chair eagerly awaiting Jack's response. She was a cute little thing, probably in her early thirties, short auburn hair, and a round face with deep set brown eyes and freckles across her nose. Jack always thought she was a little sweet on him and the idea usually brought out the ol' devilish charmer in him. This morning though, Jack didn't feel much in the mood to flirt, so he kept his responses short and sweet.
"Yeah, I've read a couple of her books. Pretty good stuff." He sipped from his coffee mug. Grace-Anne's eyes sparkled.
"Well, I could lend you her new book, but I left it at ma house. Will ya be in the office tomorrow?"
Jack took notice of how her hand was casually playing with the necklace that hung around her neck. His eyes were drawn to the top of her cleavage where she had a small birthmark. He frowned.
"Well, I don't know. I might. I think I may have promised to go play golf with Bill and Marty." Liar.
Grace-Anne smiled softly. "Well maybe, you could swing by my place later tonight and pick it up. You know my address don't you?"
Jack stared at her. Was she offering what he thought she was? After all the years of flirting and beatin' around the bush, she finally came out and invited him over? He ran his tongue over his lip, something he did when he was thinking. He took another sip of coffee.
"Ya know Grace-Anne, it's mighty kind of you to offer, but I actually just picked up a book for myself yesterday at the Wal-Mart. It's pretty interestin'. S'got me sittin' on the edge of ma seat. But maybe you can bring that new book in for me when I finish it."
Jack left it at that, hoped she'd got the message and walked back to his office.
"What the fuck're you doing, Twist? Just let it be. Just forget about it. Don't go nosing where you got no business."
Jack let this thought settle itself in his brain. Like hell it was his business! It was his life and he wasn't going to just let the opportunity pass without finding out some answers.
When he'd gotten back to his office he'd immediately gone on-line and tried to find out how he could get in contact with Annie Proulx. He couldn't remember the book's publishing company, so he looked it up on Scribner. He looked that up next, but it did no good, because he couldn't find anything more about Annie Proulx than a brief biography. He did find out, however, that Brokeback Mountain had been published in the New Yorker. He wasn't so sure he liked the idea of that.
"All them people knowing yer business? That don't sound too pleasant."
Jack had to remind himself that he didn't know anyone in New York and that surely no one he knew read the New Yorker.
"How many people coulda read the story anyway? Don't seem like somethin' that would become a hit and get movie rights or anythin'."
He decided to switch his search to the author herself. He wasn't so good at all this Internet stuff. He felt like a newborn colt trying to stand up and walk around, all shaky and pathetic. He worked slowly and starring at the screen made his eyes hurt after while.
Finally he found it. It was on the author's website. She said that people could contact her through her agent.
Liz Darhansoff of Darhansoff, Verrill, and Feldman.
Jack copied down the phone number on a scrap of paper and shoved it into his pants' pocket. He checked his watch, saw it was past eleven and shut down his computer. He gathered his stuff, put his black Stetson back on his head and said his goodbyes to people in the office and to Lureen.
"You goin' home then?" She asked, not taking her eyes off her computer screen, blonde hair perfectly held in place even as the fan in the corner swept across the room.
Jack was leaning in her office door, sports coat tucked in his arm.
"Yeah. I gotta couple of things I'm goin' ta take care of. I'll see ya later tonight."
Lureen looked up from what she was doing at his last comment.
"Actually, I was goin' ta have dinner with some people from the Vernon dealership. They came inta town las' night, and I thought tonight would be a good time to take 'em out. You know, Francis and Sharon, and um…James."
Jack shrugged. "D'ya want me ta come? I can, I don't got much to do…"
"No, no. You do what you want. I'll be fine. It's just a little get together anyway, I've been promising that I'd take them out for a drink for a while now, anyway. I'll see you later, but I probably won't be home till after eleven."
Jack nodded and left, slightly taken aback. Usually Lureen forced him to come to all sorts of business related things. It was slightly unusual for her to want to go alone. He shrugged to himself again and left the office, secretly itching to get home so he could make his call.
Jack stared at the phone. His hands were shaking. He was nervous as hell, but even more curious and he had to know what was going on. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number. There were several clicks and rings, long distance switching over, and then a distant female voice answered the phone.
"Darhansoff, Verill, and Feldman. Liz Darhansoff's office, how may I help you?"
Jack felt like he'd just swallowed a mouthful of cotton. His tongue was dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth. Finally he swallowed and retrieved his voice.
"G'Day, I'd like ta speak ta Liz Darhansoff, please."
"May I ask who's calling?" Her voice was cold and detached.
"Yes, ma name's Jack Twist."
"Hold one minute."
Jack let out a shaky breath as he was put on hold and music began to play. He wrung his hands and then wiped his palms on his jeans because he was sweating like a pig. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing and just wait patiently for Annie's agent to answer. The music turned off abruptly.
"Mr. Twist?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Darhansoff is quite busy at the moment. She said she could spare a minute to speak with you if you would like, though."
"Yes, ma'am, that'd be fine."
The music clicked back over and he was left to his thoughts. He wasn't waiting for very long this time, because no even a minute had past when another voice, brighter and more feminine than the other, came on the line.
"Hello, Mr. Twist? What can I do for you?"
"Call me Jack. I wanted to know if you could get me in contact with Annie Proulx, or tell me how to get in touch with her. I need to speak with her 'bout somethin' real important." There was silence on the other end of the line momentarily.
"What is it you would like to speak with her about? You know she's a very busy woman, Mr. Twist."
"Jack, please. Well…" he sucked in a deep breath. "I need to speak with her 'bout one of the stories she just published—"
"Brokeback Mountain?"
Jack was shocked. "Yes ma'am, how'd you know?"
"Just a guess."
"Well you see, ma'am, I…well…the story she wrote was about me." He let the words rush out of his mouth, trying to ignore how crazy it all sounded. There was another pause on the other line.
"I assure you sir, that everything Mrs. Proulx writes is purely fictitious and that any resemblance to real persons or places is coincidental." Jack noticed that she pronounced the author's name like "Proo". Seemed unimportant, but knowing he'd pronounced it wrong made him feel even more stupid. He steeled himself and let salesman Jack take over.
"I understand, ma'am. But I don't think you do. This was written about me. Accept for the actual…well, queer part."
The woman sighed. "Sir, I assure you that it is pure coincidence. And I also assure you that you are not the only person named Jack Twist."
"Well mayhap not, but I think I am the only Jack Twist with parents up in Lightening Flat, Wyoming and a wife named Lureen."
"I'm sure Mrs. Proulx would be very pleased to hear that she has touched one of her readers on such a personal level, Mr. Twist, and I would be happy to tell her that, but unfortunately I am very busy at the moment and there's not much else I can do for you."
Jack could tell she was starting to lose her patience and interest, and he began to panic. He gave it one more shot.
"Listen. Can you please jus' tell me how I can speak with Miss Proulx herself? If I just had a few minutes to explain…"
"Thank you for calling, Mr. Twist. If you have any more questions, you can check out Annie's website on line or you can visit Scribner's. Thank you again for calling, have a nice day."
The line went dead. Jack was left holding the phone in his hand, sitting at the kitchen table. That hadn't gone like he'd imagined it. Then again, nothing in the past twenty-four hours had. He let the receiver fall back on its cradle and stared down at his hands. None of his questions answered, and all of them still burning inside.