The wild and windy night that the rain washed away,
has left a pool of tears; crying for the day.
Why leave me standing here?
Let me know the way…
Ennis stood helpless as Jack put his bag in the passenger seat of his truck. It was 5:30; the sun was barely visible over the horizon, but the morning birds could be heard clearly, and there was brightness to the dark sky that screamed 'morning's coming'. Ennis should have already left for work, but that morning work was the last thing on his mind. That morning everything was falling apart around him. He was lost. A large gap had opened in his chest and he felt that soon it would swallow him whole. At least then he wouldn't have to face Jack, the best friend he'd had and maybe ever would have, leaving.
Of course Ennis didn't want Jack to leave; he would have asked him to stay, but he didn't now how to go about it, and there really was no reason for him to stay. Ennis had stepped into a lot of new and frightening territory since meeting Jack, he'd done many things he'd never dreamed of before, and felt better than he had in years, or maybe better than he ever had. But Ennis Del Mar could only do so much at a time. He was a man not accustomed to change, and expressing how he felt and what he wanted was something he still was unsure of. So he couldn't tell Jack that he wanted him to stay longer, that he wanted him to stay as long as possible because the idea of never seeing him again made all of his previous losses seem like a stroll in the park.
Jack slammed the passenger door of his truck, still parked at the curb, and turned towards Ennis who was a few feet away on the driveway. Jack leaned against the side of the Ford pick up and propped one foot on the running board, crossed his arms over his chest. Ennis saw Jack; saw him completely, from his boots to the top of his black Stetson. That man was the closest thing to art Ennis Del Mar had ever seen, even if he wouldn't quite admit it.
Ennis locked his own brown eyes with Jack's deep blue ones, held them for a moment, and then looked down at the cracked cement below his worn boots. He couldn't look into those blue eyes now; it was too much. They were a reminder of what he was losing, held the memories of stories and laughs and brief moments when Ennis' hand had brushed his.
Jack Twist. Ennis felt his chest clinch and bile rose in the back of his throat. He had to swallow hard and suck in a deep breath to keep from breaking character. Ennis was a man that wore many masks, and at the moment he was trying to give off an air of quiet indifference. He was trying anyway.
"Why is this so hard? It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be this hard to watch him go."
Jack lowered his foot from the running board and took a few steps in Ennis' direction. His thumbs were hooked on the belt loops of his jeans, and he looked like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Ennis briefly considered the possibilities of what Jack could do with his hands, and then quickly brushed it aside.
"Well, friend, I can't thank ya enough fer lettin' me stay at yer place. It was…"
Jack breathed in and looked down. After a minute he raised his head again, and met Ennis' eyes, but said nothing, just chewed a little on his bottom lip.
Ennis figured Jack was waiting for him to say something, but he was always terrible in 'goodbye' situations, especially this one. He looked back down at his boots and put his hands in his pockets.
"It's…uh, it's no problem. I jest hope all goes well with yer parents' land up in Lightenin' Flat."
Ennis didn't see Jack's expression at the mention of his parents, but he heard his voice, which was quiet and slightly rough.
"I'm sure it'll all work out fine." He cleared his throat a little. "I wanted ta tell ya…"
He stopped again and shuffled his feet around. Ennis looked back up, and then Jack came a few steps closer. They were maybe two feet apart now. Jack cleared his throat again.
"What I wanted ta tell ya was…that I had a great time up here with ya, Ennis. I'm gonna miss ya. I, uh…hope we can stay friends."
Ennis felt like something was breaking inside of him. He felt his tough, nonchalant mask slip to the wayside. Jack's eyes…they were sad, but there was also a little hope. They said so much, so much more than the words that were coming from his mouth. Ennis thought he was looking for something, maybe looking for an invitation to stay longer? He couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to put himself out on a line. It pained him to not be able to express himself, to not be able to show how he felt. He wanted to, wanted to badly, to let Jack know that he wasn't the only one feeling this horrible cloud of despair, he wasn't the only one… Ennis wanted more than anything to reach out and touch him then, to grab him in a hug and not let him go. Jack made a motion like he was about to turn away and head back to his truck, and miraculously, Ennis, despite his resignation and his trouble showing his true feelings, felt himself reach out and place a hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack stopped and turned full towards him. His eyes wide, and blue, and full of something else Ennis couldn't put his finger on.
In one quick motion, he swept Jack up into a tight bear hug, grabbing at him hard and rough with his hands, not wanting to loosen his grip for fear he might disappear and all this would turn out to be a dream. Jack clung just as tightly to Ennis, whispering something over and over, something Ennis couldn't quite make out, but sounded like "Goddamn, goddamn."
His heart was beating fast. He was reeling with the full contact they were making. Over the past few days, they'd touched a couple times, briefly, usually by accident, accept for the time he'd put his arm around Jack's shoulder and patted him on the back, but not even that could compare to this. The feel of his own body pressed tightly against the other man's, with Jack's arms wrapped as tightly around him as his were wrapped around Jack. His stomach was somersaulting, and for a brief moment, the tightness in his chest and the hole that had threatened to swallow him up had been forgotten. All he could think about was that one moment, and how Jack was pressed full against him, and the smell of Jack's cologne on his neck, the feel of his rough skin and his smooth black hair.
Ennis suddenly returned to reality, realized he was clutching another man as though he were a security blanket, realized he had once again stepped out of his comfort zone, and then froze up. He patted Jack on the back real friendly like, and backed up, trying to break the hug. Jack held on for a second longer, despite his attempts, and then finally let go. They stepped apart awkwardly, all the things unsaid still unsaid, all the feelings felt still felt, lying between them like a boulder.
Ennis coughed and averted his eyes, looked at his watch, then looked back towards his small white house. The sun was rising quick and with a vengeance, a constant reminder that Ennis had to get going, had to start his day at work, and had to let the man standing in front of him leave, no matter how much it pained him.
"S'not right ta get so worked up over a man anyway. Jest get a move on, and that'll be that."
Jack saw Ennis' antsy behavior and knew he was anxious to get the day started.
"All right. I guess I'll see ya 'round, then."
Ennis nodded his head. Jack nodded his head. Neither wanting to meet eyes, both wanting to get the inevitable over as quickly as possible.
Jack walked back to his truck, opened the driver side door and climbed behind the wheel. He started the engine and gave Ennis a final, brief wave before pulling away from the curb and driving off. Ennis watched him go, feeling more helpless than he'd felt before.
Eventually he was able to force his legs to move, and he ambled back into the house, head hung low, ready to get back to his usual schedule, his usual days of nothing—life the way it had been before he'd met Jack Twist. He opened the front door and looked around his living room aimlessly. His eyes snuck over to the front window that had a view of the front drive and the street outside. Ennis looked back at his watch. He knew he had to get to work, was never one to be late, but he couldn't deny the urge to stand at the window and look out on the driveway where he and Jack had stood, clinging to one another for dear life, a few minutes before. He followed his instincts for the umpteenth time since Friday evening, and went over to the window.
He opened the blinds enough for a clear view and stared, forlorn at the cement driveway with weeds growing in the cracks, and the empty street beyond. The view mirrored how he was feeling at that precise moment: desolate and lonely.
"Hell, Jack's been gone, what five minutes? And I'm already missing him like he's been gone fer weeks."
The truth was, Ennis had started to miss Jack the previous evening when he'd told him the part for his truck was in and that he'd be leaving the next morning. Ennis had known at the time their parting would be rough, but he'd had no idea it was going to be as bad as it had. Felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by a horse. And he had been kicked by a horse before, so he knew how it felt.
Ennis sighed. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like he was. He wasn't supposed to feel like the world had ended just because Jack had gone away. He wasn't supposed to like Jack as much as he did. Ennis had never felt this way about anyone except maybe his daughters, but that was different. It wasn't desperate and aching and needing. He didn't need to be with them. He loved every moment he spent with his girls, and certainly took advantage of any time he could get with them, but he didn't feel like the ground was swallowing him up when he wasn't with them. He didn't feel like everything was stopping when they left.
Ennis finally resigned himself to finish getting ready and head to work. He had to make himself some coffee, didn't want any food because he felt a little sick. He'd offered to make Jack some coffee before he left, hoping to prolong his departure, but Jack had shook his head, said he should get on the road, said he would stop to get breakfast along the way.
He swallowed, once again reminded of the finality of Jack's leaving. He stepped back from the window, and felt something crush slightly under his boot. He looked down and saw an open book below him. Ennis quirked his head and bent closer so he could read the title of the book.
Close Range: Wyoming Stories by Annie ProulxEnnis kneeled to pick it up.
"Jack must've left it here."
He flipped through the pages absent mindedly, and the book opened to the very back. There in black and white, was a familiar title.
Brokeback MountainEnnis squinted, to make sure he was reading it right. Brokeback Mountain? Jack owned a book about Brokeback, the place Ennis had always thought was a fairly well kept secret except to the locals? He frowned. He knew that Jack couldn't have bought it after they went up there, but what were the odds that he'd bought it before? Some coincidence.
Ennis shrugged. He didn't have time to worry about it at the moment. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out some instant coffee, since he didn't have time to make a pot of the real stuff. He filled a travel mug Jenny had brought him from California with water and put in two spoonfuls of Maxwell House coffee then placed it in the microwave. He set the time, yawned and stretched. He hadn't slept at all the night before. He'd gone to his bedroom after they'd gotten back and had just lain staring at the ceiling.
The microwave beeped and Ennis took the mug out, taking a small sip and as usual burning his tongue. He headed into the living room and grabbed his hat and his keys, then remembered his reading glasses were sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. He left his house close to six, coffee, glasses, and book firmly in hand.
Jack was cruising south down Interstate 25, Riverton nearly four and a half hours behind him, Denver about twenty minutes ahead.
His parting with Ennis that morning had been awkward. He'd felt like he was dying the whole time, and had barely managed to get into his truck and drive away. Somehow he'd done it, though Ennis' stony demeanor may have aided his nerve slightly.
Ennis Del Mar was something else. One minute he was open and caring, and the next thing Jack knew he 'd constructed a fifty-foot wall around him; impenetrable to everyone—trying to break it down only made it worse.
It had started the night before when they'd finally gathered the trash they'd scattered and headed back down the trail to Ennis' pick up. Jack had been flying, was higher than a kite from the mountain air and the close proximity to the object of his affection. Ennis, on the other hand, had started to withdraw and build up his tough exterior. Before Jack knew it, Ennis had become the person he'd seen in the bar Friday night. He was quiet, a little defensive, and something in him had just closed up. Jack had been hoping, from some of the signs Ennis had given, that 'something' might have happened before he left the next morning. But he should have known better, should have known it was just wishful thinking, especially since it seemed Ennis only sought his friendship.
"He also hasn't read the story. Can ya blame him fer only seeking yer friendship? Would you be wantin' more if ya hadn't had some a' those Brokeback ideas already stuck in yer head?"
Jack had to wonder about that. If he hadn't read the story, would he be feeling the same way he did? An image of Ennis entered his mind; tall, lean, muscular, dark brown eyes on fire for him up on the mountain, or at least he thought they had been. Jack sighed. He couldn't tell. He wanted to think he'd feel strongly about Ennis no matter what, but, maybe he wouldn't know what he was feeling if he hadn't read the story. Maybe that's what Ennis was going through?
"Wishful thinkin' again, Twist. Wishful thinkin'."
But there was still room to hope.
Anyway, they'd gotten back to Ennis' house a little after one in the morning and Jack still hadn't come down from his mountain buzz, removed Ennis be damned. He was rearing to go, wasn't ready for the night to end. He couldn't even imagine sleeping. But Ennis had had other ideas. He'd pretty much gone straight to his bedroom, barely muttering a 'see ya in the morning' as he passed. Jack had been baffled, and more than a little disappointed.
He'd taken up his usual residence on Ennis' couch and sat staring at a blank TV screen. He'd finally spotted the remote and turned the television on. He found a channel he could bare, Nick at Night was showing some old reruns of the Dick Van Dyke show, but the TV was more for some light and soft background noise. He'd sat and fiddled around with his hands for hours, not sure what to do, but not being able to go to sleep.
For a brief moment he'd considered walking into Ennis' bedroom and…well, he wasn't sure what then. But as stated that had been a brief thought. He could never do that, not without getting a surprised punch to the face. He'd started wishing that they'd brought some more boos with them so maybe they could've had a drunken grope fest or something, but that hadn't happened either. And a grope fest wasn't really what Jack wanted, no matter how his dick might have felt on the subject. No, Jack wanted it all. He wanted Ennis and everything that came with him, good and bad baggage.
Then, Jack had considered trying to mess around with his truck. Maybe he could go out on the sly and snap a wire or something. But that was a little pathetic, wasn't it? And wouldn't it be a little fishy if the next morning when he was about to leave, he once again couldn't start his truck?
"Oh gee, Ennis…I don't know what happened! Must jest be my bad luck, or somethin'. Guess I'll have to stay longer than I thought!"
Jack laughed bitterly. No, he was leaving tomorrow, no matter how much it pained him to do so. He was leaving and he was going to forget about Ennis and about how he made him feel and about the electricity that jumped between them whenever they touched. He didn't slept a wink that night.
The next morning he was up and packed before Ennis came out of his room a little after five. Jack was disappointed to see that Ennis' mood hadn't changed, still had his defenses up, still had a closed expression and a clenched jaw.
He'd offered to make some coffee, but Jack hadn't wanted to prolong the experience, so he'd declined and instead headed outside to pack up his truck. Not like he had a lot to pack, just one duffel bag. One duffel bag, and a whole lot of troubles.
Ennis had followed him outside, but had mainly stood on the drive, distancing himself from Jack. He could feel his eyes on him, though, heavy like a weight on his back. He'd finally gotten the nerve to say goodbye, to get it over with and put himself out of his misery. All the while Ennis had been unreadable; Jack had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Maybe he was actually happy to see him go. Jack thought not, but from the blank expression he was giving him, he couldn't be sure.
For a minute Jack had been about to tell Ennis the truth. He hadn't wanted to, hadn't planned on it, was chicken really, but he was willing to do anything to get some sort of reaction from Ennis. It was like they were simply saying 'see ya' after a day of paling around, like they would see each other at the office the next day. But that was so far from how he'd felt it was almost funny. Jack had never been good at masking his emotions; he'd tried this time, tried to return Ennis' steely glances with his own, but couldn't do it. What he was feeling couldn't be covered that easily.
He'd about given up and resigned to heading back to his truck when Ennis had grabbed him. It came out of nowhere, and it betrayed everything Ennis had desperately been trying to cover. Jack felt his heart swell, felt it break a little more, felt hot tears reach his eyes. He couldn't do anything but grasp Ennis as tight and mutter, "goddamn." It was the only word that seemed to sum up what he was experiencing. The rush of having Ennis' arms around him, holding him tighter than he'd ever been held, nearly crushing the air out of him, but Jack didn't care, only wanted the embrace to go on and on until he either died from pleasure or from collapsed lungs.
But then Ennis had gone stony again and had released him. His defenses were back up in the blink of an eye. But it was too late; he'd already given the game away. That gesture had been enough for Jack, given him just the right amount of hope. Given him enough of a spark to get the gears and bolts to start turning and cranking out more possibilities.
His trip driving from Riverton had been a dull one. For the first hour, he hadn't done much thinking at all, just kept his eyes on the road and listened to the wind howl past his closed windows. He had the radio turned off, didn't want to listen to music or have any distractions, just wanted quiet and to forget where he was heading, and who he was leaving.
It wasn't until he'd pulled over at a truck stop diner for breakfast around seven, that he'd started to think again, started thinking hard and long about what he was doing.
He was sitting towards the back of the diner in a booth, drinking some fairly decent coffee, and eating some less than decent pancakes, looking out the smudged window at the trucks lining the parking lot, when the story of Brokeback Mountain, and his reasons for coming to Wyoming hit him with a vengeance. He'd come to find out if Ennis was a real person, which had been accomplished, but he'd also come to find out all he could about the story, see if Ennis knew anything, see what he thought about it, have a discussion about it, maybe come up with a plan of action.
Well that had been easier said than done. Of course, planning it all out, he hadn't expected to be immediately attracted to Ennis and then to become good friends with him. And to top it all off, he'd fallen in love with the man. He admitted that now, hadn't been sure what he'd been feeling at first, but now was positive. He'd fallen head over heels for Ennis Del Mar in a matter of days and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Jack laughed at that. Life sure was a bitch. It hit forcefully when least expected, and grabbed you by the balls.
So in lieu of his feelings, he'd found it impossible to tell Ennis about the book. But, in the florescent light and white washed walls of Norma Jean's Family Diner, it hadn't seemed like a good enough reason. He should have been honest with him, he should have told him the truth no matter how hard it may have been, talked it over with him nice and easy. It was too late now, and it had been too long. Jack had lied to him, told him he came for different reasons that he had, and it was all fucked up.
Jack could have been content to leave it at that, to go back home to Childress and have fond memories of his time spent in Riverton with Ennis Del Mar, keep them stored in his mind if he ever needed a fantasy to jerk off to. But the idea didn't settle well with him, it wouldn't heel. No, guilt was bucking around inside Jack's head like a wild bronc, and try as he may, he couldn't get it to stop. Jack had paid for his food and then got back on the road, trekking back to Texas and deeper into denial.
It had taken two more hours for it to finally sucker punch him.
"Jack Twist, yer being a pussy. Turn yer truck around n' drive back ta Riverton. You've only driven a few hours; ya can make it back 'fore Ennis gets home from work."
He hesitated for a couple more miles and then Jack turned off Interstate 25 before he officially got to Denver and then got back on, going north this time, heading back to Wyoming, and Ennis. He looked at the clock on his radio. It was after ten o'clock. He could make it back sometime around one or two if he put the pedal to the medal.
Jack sped up, merging into the left lane. His leg was shaking and he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
"I'm really gonna do this. I'm really gonna tell him. God help me, I'm gonna tell him the truth."
Jack's F-150 flew down the open road, a blur of black and silver against the blue sky over the plains. He wasn't sure what lay ahead, but he felt fairly positive, that whatever happened, he'd be ready for it.
Ennis had just sat down to take his lunch break. He was in his usual spot, under a large oak tree a distance from the picnic tables. He liked the distance and the solitude that came with it because he never had much to say to the rest of the hands anyway, a fact that was especially true today. Ennis wanted nothing more than to just sit and be alone. He didn't want to think about work, he didn't want to think about being social, and most of all, he didn't want to think about being alone when he got home later that day.
It was silly really. Ennis had been alone for the better part of his 56 years, and he'd thought he'd gotten used to it. Even the time when he'd been with his girls and Alma, his loneliness had not let him be. He'd been born alone it seemed, it had only made worse when his parents died, and when his sister had moved off and when his brother K.E. had gotten married and Ennis had had to start working jobs out on isolated ranches. So it had been such a part of his life that he'd never really noticed it was there—until he met Jack Twist.
Jack had shown him what companionship meant, and now that he was gone, well, now Ennis could feel the hollowness of his life, could feel it like a knife in his side. Ennis swallowed.
"Said I wasn't gonna think 'bout Jack. Somehow me tryin' not ta think on him got me right back around ta doin' jest that."
Ennis figured it would be a long while before he could stop thinking about Jack, no matter how hard he tried. He leaned against the tree, relaxed his back and stretched his legs out in front of him, then unwrapped his roast beef sandwich from a diner down the street. Usually, (as in days when one of the other hands' wives didn't bring something for the fellas to eat) one of Jeremy Graham's teenaged daughters would come around and take a lunch order from all the workers, if they hadn't brought their own lunch. She'd collect their money and go pick up their food. Ennis usually tried to bring his lunch, he didn't like having to fork over four or five dollars everyday for some luke warm fast food, but lately he'd been preoccupied in the mornings.
The sandwich was okay that day, though. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever tasted, but it sufficed and Ennis ate it quickly, wanting to spend the majority of his lunch break just relaxing. He crumpled the wrapper it had come in and sipped ice tea from the paper "to go" cup that had been given to him. He took his hat off and laid it on top of his jean jacket, tossed aside in the grass next to him. He was sitting facing north that day; he'd deliberately placed himself so that his back was to the rest of the workers. Facing north he had a view of the Bighorns. He smiled. The bighorns made him think of Sunday when he'd taken Jack out riding in the northern fields of the Owl Creek Ranch. That made him think of taking Jack to Brokeback Mountain.
"Brokeback…"
Ennis remembered the book he'd brought with him. He'd wanted to look through it on his lunch break.
"Well, time's a wastin'."
He sat up a little so he could reach his jacket and fished around in on of the pockets, pulled out the paperback, then found his reading glasses in another pocket. He leaned back again, made himself completely comfortable, and then flipped the book open. Once again it landed on the title page. Ennis ran his thumb over the words and then turned the page.
Small words in black print assaulted his vision and Ennis had to squint even with his glasses on. He'd never been much of a reader, never had time, and wasn't encouraged to do so with his poor eyesight. It never troubled him too much; the kind of work he did didn't require much reading. There were times when he certainly regretted not finishing school though.
Ennis tossed that thought aside.
"Worries for some other time."
He tried pulling the book farther away from him, found that made it clear and settled himself to read.
Grady Stoutamire watched Ennis Del Mar from a fence that lined the large west meadow where most of the steer grazed during the summer. He watched him make his way past the stables and the main equipment barn towards his truck. He looked down at his watch; it was only fifteen minutes past twelve, lunch had just ended. He did a double take as Ennis got into his old pick up and drove away. What the hell was he doing?
Stoutamire rode over to where Art Granger was mending a part of the western fence. Art looked up when he heard him stop. He wiped some sweat from under the brim of his straw hat with the back of one gloved hand.
"Hey there boss. What's up?"
Stoutamire frowned, looked back in the direction where Ennis had just left and then turned back to Art.
"Granger, did Del Mar tell ya he was goin' some where?"
Art looked past Stoutamire towards the area he and Ennis usually parked.
"Uh, no. Didn't know he'd gone anywhere."
"Well he just got in his truck and drove away."
Art shrugged. "Gee, boss. S'not like Ennis. Don't think he's ever left work early a day in his life."
Stoutamire frowned harder and tightened his grip on the reigns.
"I know. Somethin' must be wrong. He didn't say nothin' ta ya?"
Art shook his head. "Nope. I haven't spoken ta him all day. I think Dean had a word with him though. There he is, hey Dean!"
A short young man with light blonde hair came walking out of the stables with a pitchfork in his hands. He sauntered over to where Art and Stoutamire were.
"Hey, Art. Hey there, boss. What d'ya need?"
"Didn't ya talk ta Ennis just a few minutes ago? Thought I saw you two talkin' or somethin'."
Art took a handkerchief out from the front pocket of his overalls and wiped more sweat from his face. Dean dug the pitchfork in to the ground and leaned on its handle.
"Yeah I did. Though I wouldn't call it talkin'. I asked him where he was goin' in such a hurry. He said it weren't none a' my business and told me ta fuck off. Don't think I've ever seen him so angry. Looked bought ready ta kill anything that got in his way. I'm lucky I got out alive."
Stoutamire's horse snorted and kicked a little, impatient with all the standing around.
"What coulda happened between lunch n' now that coulda gotten him so riled up?"
Art was looking back up at Stoutamire, waiting for some insight on the usually level headed man.
"I have no idea. Musta been somethin' aweful. Ennis can usually control himself. Well, thanks boys. Get on back ta work. We'll jest have ta make due without him fer the rest a' the day."
The two men nodded and then Stoutamire headed back to the stables to put Bonnie, his mare, back in her stall. He was going to take his lunch break and do a little work, make a few calls in his office. Maybe when he'd finished he'd give Ennis a ring at his house, see what was what.
He dismounted Bonnie and handed the reigns to Steve, one of the groomsmen. He patted her on the side and then headed back in the direction of his office across from the Grahams personal horse stable.
He walked in a fog; he was baffled as to what would have gotten Ennis so worked up. Grady Stoutamire had been working with Ennis for quite a while, had known him for even longer, and had only seen him get really angry once. It had been several years before, when they'd been working at the Bucking S. Cattle Ranch, and one of the stable boys had left a stall open during the night and a prize horse had gotten out. It had taken them all day to find it, and they'd had to capture it—one night out in the plains had made it nearly wild again. Ennis had gotten so mad he'd been about to kick the boy's ass, severely. Stoutamire had stopped him before they'd actually gotten around to blows. But that was the only time. Ennis was usually pretty level headed. Stoutamire had heard stories about when he was younger, how he'd been a bit of a loose canon, but since he'd known him, he'd had no trouble. It seemed Ennis Del Mar had lost his quick temper since he'd gotten older.
Stoutamire arrived at the door of his office and walked in, letting out a sigh of relief at the feel of the air conditioning. He saw that there were a few messages on his answering machine, and he hit the play button before heading over to his desk to sit down and relax. There was a message from his wife and from Jeremy Grahams, who was out of town. He stretched back in his chair and kicked his feet up. His wife, Sandy, wanted him to bring some beef home for dinner. Jeremy wanted them to take some of the calves out to auction the next week, even though it was still early, and they usually waited until they were a little bit older before they sold them.
He rubbed at his eyes and sighed. If it wasn't one thing it was another. There would be a lot of work to do, a lot of things to arrange, if they were going to be ready to take the calves to auction the following week. He needed Ennis there. He couldn't have him getting crazy and leaving work in the middle of the day.
Stoutamire sat up in his chair and stared at the closed door of his office. He didn't know what was wrong with Ennis, but he knew that he didn't like it.
Jack turned his F-150 down the familiar street where Ennis lived. He looked at his clock: 2:07. Jack smiled. He'd been fast, traveled a little over 200 miles in under four hours. Of course he hadn't stopped for food on the way back. Eating was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was practically jumping out of his seat with anxiety. He was nervous as hell, wasn't surprised about that, but he was also a little excited, excited about clearing the air, about letting Ennis know that there was something crazy going on beyond their control. The thought made Jack's spine tingle a little, chills erupted over his back and shoulder.
He had Ennis' house in his sights. He pulled his truck up to the curb. Ennis wouldn't be home for another three and a half hours, but Jack was going to wait for him. He thought about waiting outside, but then decided it would be more of a surprise if he let himself in (Ennis had shown him where he kept the spare key under a mat after the first night he'd stayed there.)
Jack turned the ignition to his truck off, hopped out, and walked up the drive to go through the back yard and reach the side door. At the last minute, he decided to cut across the front lawn since it was a shorter walk to the side he needed. Screw walking around the other way, past the carport, and through the backyard. He got to the door and lifted up the mat, struggled for a minute getting the key off the ground in his excitement, but finally had it in his hand. He hesitated for a minute, considering once again what he was doing, and then shoved any negative thoughts aside. This wasn't going to be the first time he'd done something crazy in the past couple of weeks.
Jack smiled again, took in a deep breath, put the key in the keyhole, and stepped through Ennis' door. He walked into the kitchen that he'd come to know so well, let the sight soak in like refreshing mountain air, and placed the key on the kitchen counter. He stood there in the kitchen for a minute, twiddling his thumbs, then remembered his need to take a piss and headed to the bathroom. That done, he figured he could watch TV until Ennis got home, so he strolled into the living room, feeling lighter than he had in years, satisfied with his decision to finally get over his stupid hang ups and tell Ennis the truth.
When he reached the living room, he immediately stopped dead in his tracks. Ennis was sitting on the couch, hat on his head, pulled low over his eyes, his hands clasped between his knees. It appeared he was looking down at the floor.
"What the fuck?"
Jack certainly hadn't expected this. He smiled a little at the sight of Ennis, but wasn't relieved at his silent, troubled appearance. Jack was slightly worried; he hadn't been expecting to confront Ennis the minute he walked into his house.
"Gonna have ta change my plans. I was hopin' fer a little time ta think it over some more."
Ennis was silent; it was like he hadn't even noticed Jack was there, which brought up another question: why hadn't he said anything when he heard him come in the house? Last time he'd thought Jack was a burglar and had nearly killed him. This time there had been nothing, even though Jack had been in the house for a few minutes and had even gone to the bathroom. All that and not a peep. It concerned Jack.
"Ennis. What're ya doin' home from work?"
"What're you doin' here?" He kept his eyes to the ground.
Jack stepped back because of Ennis' hostile tone. What had gotten into him?
"I, uh, came back jest a few minutes ago. I turned around after I'd driven fer a while."
"Right. I saw yer truck pull up next ta the curb. Heard ya come in, heard ya use the bathroom, but that don't explain why ya came."
Jack was getting pissed off. Shouldn't Ennis be happy to see him? He didn't need to give him the 3rd degree. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Jesus, Ennis. What's wrong with you? Thought ya'd be happy ta see me."
Jack thought he saw Ennis chuckle from the way his shoulders moved up and down slightly, but he couldn't be sure because his manner was far from jovial. Finally he looked up and Jack could see his eyes. They were on fire once again, but it didn't look like a good thing this time.
"Ya thought I'd be happy ta see you." His tone was dry, light, and quiet. Jack wasn't sure what was going on.
"That's funny Jack, yer a real kidder, real funny guy. Always full a' stories and shit. Speakin' a' stories, what the hell is this?"
He picked something up off the couch and held it raised in his left hand. Jack drew in a deep breath. He knew what it was, and all at once he knew what was wrong.
"Oh shit."
"Oh shit, s'right."
Jack froze. This was certainly not what he'd expected. He felt like he was suddenly in a very dangerous situation.
"You ASSHOLE! You fergot the book! How could you?"
Jack suddenly remembered his fit of anger the day before, remembered throwing the book across the room at the front window. He'd forgotten all about it. In his despair over leaving, he'd left it where it had fallen. He could have kicked himself. No that wasn't drastic enough, the best way of putting it would be that at that moment, Jack Twist wanted more than anything else to run into the street and get hit by a truck.
Ennis was waiting patiently for more explanation but Jack's mouth had gone dry and all the words he'd planned on using to explain the situation had flown out the window. Ennis cocked his head to the side.
"What's wrong Jack? Cat got yer tongue? Or did ya jest ferget what this is? Here let me give ya a little reminder."
Ennis flipped through the pages. He found what he was looking for and brought the book close to his face to read.
" 'Ennis woke in red dawn with his pants around his knees, a top-grade headache, and Jack butted against him; without saying anything about it both knew how it would go for the rest of the summer, sheep be damned.'"
He flipped a little more.
"Oh and here's a classic, can't ferget 'bout this one. 'Ennis ran full-throttle on all roads whether fence mending or money spending, and he wanted none of it when Jack seized his left hand and brought it to his erect cock. Ennis jerked his hand away as though he'd touched fire,'"
"Ennis, stop it."
"Almost finished, haven't gotten ta the good part yet. 'Got to his knees, unbuckled his belt, shoved his pants down, hauled Jack onto all fours and, with the help of clear slick and a little spit, entered him,'" Ennis laughed bitterly. " 'Nothing he'd done before, but no instruction manual needed.'"
He was silent again, then turned to a page towards the end of the book.
"Here's one a' my favorites. 'I got a say this to you one time, Jack, and I ain't foolin. What I don't know,' said Ennis, 'all them things I don't know could get you killed if I should come to know them.'"
Jack was speechless. Ennis had put the book down and was looking at Jack again.
"So tell me Jack, what the fuck is this? What the fuck?"
He threw the book roughly to the ground and stood, facing Jack, chest heaving with anger. Jack looked away, couldn't bring himself to meet Ennis' eyes.
"I don't know."
"How can't ya know? It's yers ain't it?"
Jack felt a steel ball form in his stomach and he looked at Ennis. "I told ya I don't know. I don't know where it came from, I…"
"You are so full a' shit!" Ennis turned and walked to the window next to the couch, looked outside at the side of his lawn.
"You lied. It's all been a big bag a' bull shit, comin' from you, hasn't it? Who are you? How did ya get that story? Did ya write it? How did ya get yer information?"
He took a few steps back in his direction.
"Are you some sort a' stalker? Have ya been watchin' me? Some queer boy wanting ta come n' fulfill some sick fantasy?"
Jack didn't know what to say. This was a nightmare. He was going to wake up at any second, and it would still be that morning, and he'd remember to take the book with him, and none of this would happen.
"Speak up, Twist!" Ennis shoved him rough on the shoulder.
"I want some fuckin' answers, so ya better have some or yer gonna get yer face smashed inta the fuckin' ground."
He pushed Jack again, and this time Jack pushed back. He was confused, and helpless but he was damned if he was going to let Ennis push him around like some bully.
"Back the hell off, Ennis."
"Fuck you."
That's all it took for Jack to charge at the man standing in front of him. He punched him in the mouth and then tried to get his arm around his neck to get him in a headlock. He was seething, his vision had gone red, and he wasn't even sure why. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to ponder where all his anger was coming from at the moment.
Ennis wasn't having it though, and he grabbed Jack around his shoulders, managed to turn him around in a backwards neck lock, and then threw him to the floor, slamming his weight into his back and digging Jack's face into the carpet. Jack kicked and bucked wildly underneath him and finally managed to flip himself over. They were face to face now, and he had his hands wrapped around Ennis' neck, trying to get him off. Ennis punched Jack on the side of his face, and he yelled out and kneed Ennis in the balls. Ennis yelped and fell backwards, Jack clutched at his face with his hand, tears from the force of the blow clouding his vision.
After a few minutes, the pain died down to where it was bearable and he sat up on his elbows. Ennis was sitting with his back against the front door, breathing heavily, looking at Jack. Jack couldn't read his expression, but it wasn't the most forgiving one he'd ever seen. He sucked in a breath, his words finally back, his tongue loosened.
"Okay, ya want answers? I'll tell ya all I know, but I don't want ta fight with ya no more."
"Yer the one that started it."
"Shut the fuck up, Ennis. You started pushin' me 'round like I was a fuckin' rag doll. Jesus, now jest listen fer a minute, would ya?"
Ennis clenched his jaw and looked away. Jack sighed.
"All right. Though, I have ta tell ya, I don't know much."
He sat up all the way and pressed a gentle hand to the bruise already forming near his eye. He hissed a little at how tender it was, then continued.
He told Ennis everything he knew. He told him how he'd been out at the Wal-Mart looking for a book to buy his granddaughter Eliza, and how he'd decided to stop and pick something up for himself, and there the book had sat. He told him how he took it home and decided to read it before going to the dinner meeting with his wife and the McGuire Tractor and Farming people. He told him how he'd flipped through it, read one other story and then came to the last one. He told him how he'd nearly had a heart attack by the time he'd finished the story. Jack explained how the story had begun to plague him, how he couldn't stop thinking about it, and how he'd finally called Annie Proulx's agent.
"Guess I couldn't have expected much. The story sounds so crazy, I barely believe it myself."
So then he told Ennis about his conclusion that if the story had been true for him, there may actually be an Ennis Del Mar out there some where. He told him how he'd gone to the library with his granddaughter and had looked up Ennis' number (of course leaving out the part where he jerked off to a fantasy of him).
"I tried calling yer
number on a payphone, but it was disconnected. So, still none a'
my question were answered."
Ennis was looking at the ground.
His face had relaxed slightly, but his body was still tense. He was
listening to Jack intently.
Jack finally told him how his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he'd decided to come to find him in Riverton. He recounted how along the way his truck had started having trouble, and he'd taken it as a bad omen, though he didn't really believe in things like that.
"I got ta yer house and ya weren't there. After all that, and ya weren't there. I can't tell ya how stupid I felt; I was more pissed at myself than I think I've ever been, until maybe now…" Jack sighed.
"Anyway, that's when I decided ta go ta the nearest bar and get as drunk as possible. And the rest ya know."
Ennis was silent for a minute, then finally spoke without looking up.
"Did ya know it was me in the bar?"
"No. I had no idea. Honest ta God. Don't know how I could've, never seeing you before in my life. Nearly fainted when ya told me yer name."
Ennis finally raised his eyes and met Jacks. They weren't angry anymore, but they weren't happy either.
"Why did ya lie? Why didn't ya tell me?"
Jack flinched and felt his chest tighten. He knew it would come to this, though h'd hoped to God that it wouldn't.
"Ennis, I don't know. I…didn't expect ta become yer friend. I didn't expect ta run inta ya by accident. I didn't expect my truck ta die and leave me sleepin' on yer living room couch."
Ennis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaced. He stood slowly.
"Do ya know how fuckin' weird and unbelieveable all this sounds?"
Jack stood too, hesitant, guarded. "Yeah, I know. It's weird. It's crazy. It's like the fuckin' twilight zone."
Ennis shook his head. "I don't know why ya came here. Don't know what ya expected."
Jack was taken aback. "I didn't expect anythin'. I just wanted some answers. I wanted ta know if you existed."
Ennis shook his head again and his breathing became heavy. He paced around the room.
"No. No. You shoulda jest let sleepin' dogs lie. Ya jest went n' fucked things up more."
Jack felt his temper heat up again. "Well thanks fer rubbin' it in my face, Ennis." He raised his voice. "I know I messed up. I don't need ya tellin' me."
Ennis stopped his pacing and looked Jack straight in the eye.
"I want ya outta here."
Jack's anger drained from his body. What?
"Ennis…"
"No. Don't say anythin' else. Ya done enough talkin' fer one after noon." He looked at his watch.
"I gotta take a shower. Promised Junior I'd go ta Curt's birthday dinner tonight. I want ya outta my house by the time I get done."
Ennis walked past Jack towards the hallway and the bathroom. Jack stood helplessly where he was. Ennis stopped and turned back in his direction for a second. Jack felt his eyes and turned to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry it all happened this way, Ennis. I didn't want this ta get so messed up."
Ennis' eyes were dark and unreadeable. He frowned, not giving Jack any slack, not showing any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.
"I'm sorry too. Sorry I ever met you. Sorry I took ya up ta Brokeback."
He hesitated a moment longer then turned away and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door. Jack heard him lock it behind him.