Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried.
Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried.
And still they lead me back to the long winding road.
You left me standing here, a long, long time ago.
Don't leave me waiting here;
lead me to your door.
Jack was in the bedroom stuffing a collection of random clothing into his duffel bag. He wasn't paying attention to what he was packing, he was too eager to get on the road and back to Ennis. His stomach was in a flurry, he felt like there was some sort of rodeo going on in there, mainly because he couldn't keep the message Ennis had written on the card from running over and over through his mind.
"Oh God, Ennis. I need ya so bad. Can barely think straight right now."
He picked up the phone on the nightstand and cradled it between his left shoulder and ear while he tried to make things fit in the bag better. He had to call Lureen and tell her what was what. He knew she wouldn't be happy, but wild horses couldn't keep him from getting to Wyoming as fast as possible.
The phone was ringing in his ear, and then, as usual, the familiar voice of Grace-Anne answered.
"Newsome Farm Equipment; Lureen Twist's office. How may I help you?"
"Grace-Anne I need ta talk ta Lureen."
"Jack? You okay? What's the rush?"
"Please, jest put her on. Don't care who I may be interruptin', this is important."
She hesitated slightly. "Okay, Jack. I'll get her."
Silence on the line for a few seconds and then Lureen's voice.
"Jack, what in the hell is so damned important? You better be on the side a' the road dyin' or somethin'"
Jack winced at her words and tried to ignore them, tried to keep his mind on what needed to be done.
"Lureen, I'm goin' back ta Wyoming today. Somethin' came up. I need ta leave soon's possible. I'll be back in a week or so."
There was laughter from the other end of the line. "You better be jokin'."
"No joke, Lureen."
"Jack, you can't leave, at least not today. Did ya forget about going ta Dallas?"
Jack straightened and ceased folding momentarily. "What?"
Lureen sighed. "Where the hell've you been the last few weeks? I've been tellin' ya 'bout this almost every day. The dinner with McGuire and his associates tonight? The cookout tomorrow? Remember, they came here last time, so we agreed ta go ta them the next time."
Jack sat hard on top of the clothes scattered across the bed.
"I…don't…"
"It's jest like you ta forget too. Jest the other day, I was telling ya how we didn't need ta get ourselves a hotel room, because they were gonna put us up fer free at the Hyatt."
Jack was flabbergasted. Now he remembered her talking about this, but it had been the least of his worries and he'd shoved it out of his mind, not thinking he'd need to retain the information since Lureen would tell him what to do anyway.
"I can't go." His voice was hollow, unconvincing.
There was silence on the other end.
"Jack Twist you better get yer ass packed, because we are leavin' tonight. This is our final social meetin' with McGuire before we officially merge, aka, this is a big fuckin' deal! You are my business partner if anythin' else, and you must come, and that is that. I can respect this new found independence ya seem ta be havin', this new need ta explore yer roots, but there's a time and a place, and this is neither!"
Jack was speechless, but somehow the saliva returned to his mouth, and he found his voice.
"I'm already packed..." It was a lame attempt, but it was all he had. Lureen didn't take it the way he wanted her to, though.
"Well that's good then. I was jest about ta close up and come home so we could leave, thought ya left early ta get ready, too. I should've known better."
Jack swallowed. He knew when to fight Lureen and when not to, and it seemed he'd lost this battle.
"Lureen, when are we gettin' back? Is it possible ta miss the barbeque, or could I leave tonight after diner?"
"Why you got somewhere ya have ta be? You meetin' someone up there in Wyoming?"
Jack froze. "No."
"Well then what's the hurry?"
"I…" What could he tell her? He couldn't think of a good excuse so he told her the truth, as much as he could muster.
"Well, actually I am meetin' someone up there, but it ain't what you was thinkin'. An old buddy a' mine's goin' up ta the mountains fer a fishing trip this Sunday, and he invited me ta go along. I don't wanna miss it."
"Since when you got a friend up there in Wyoming?"
"I've known him since I was young. I saw him again when I was up there last, and we picked up where we left off." Fiction meets reality.
Lureen sighed again, one of her most common noises when talking to Jack.
"Well, I don't know what ta tell ya, Jack. Ya have ta be there fer the barbeque on Saturday, after that I thought we was gonna stay another night and have dinner again, just ta be social. I suppose ya could leave tomorrow afternoon, though. If you just have ta get ta Wyoming on Sunday."
Jack was shaking now. He didn't know if he'd be able to make it through their trip to Dallas.
"Look, Jack, we'll talk 'bout this more when I get home. Jest let me alone now, while I finish up. I'm tired a' talkin' ta you."
Likewise. "All right. I'll see ya in a bit, then."
There was a click and Jack was left alone with the dial tone and his thoughts.
It Sunday the 23rd , early morning. Ennis had woken up slightly before dawn to take a piss and mainly because he couldn't sleep. It was the day of his trip, the beginning of his short time off from work, and Jack still hadn't gotten in touch with him.
He was worried, worried Jack wouldn't come. He'd sent the postcard the past weekend just to be safe, just in case there had been some sort of delay in the mail.
"Maybe that's what happened. Maybe he ain't got it. Maybe he don't know."
Ennis was sitting on the couch, a pillow pulled over his lap, a cup of coffee held firmly between both hands. His legs were shaking up and down nervously, and he was staring off into the distance, eyes focused on something on the wall above the TV—seeing yet not seeing. If someone had taken a picture, he would have been quite a sight, hair sticking up in odd places, face sleepy yet somehow alert, wearing pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. He looked as much like a boy as he probably ever had. He took a sip of the coffee, for once didn't burn his mouth because it had been sitting untouched for a while.
Ennis was more than a little distressed. He'd thought he'd had it all planned out, though for the life of him didn't know what he wanted out of the whole thing or what he expected. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it all, but he did know that the past four weeks had been the worst of his life. He wanted Jack with him, needed Jack with him no matter what. It had just taken him a while to figure it out.
He'd been angry for a long time. He hadn't thought about Jack or Brokeback Mountain much after that first night, deliberately worked extra hours until he was so tired he couldn't have thought about anything (which wasn't very hard since they'd had to get the calves ready for auction about two weeks early). He'd come home everyday tired as hell, and would head straight to bed, sometimes without dinner. Unfortunately, in his sleep he couldn't control his thoughts. He'd dream about Jack, and about the book, and about the things they'd never done up on Brokeback. It was the dreams that eventually led him to send the post card, the dreams and Junior.
She'd put it all in perspective, made it all seem sensible, even though it had taken him a while to even see that. But, after a while, he'd decided that he couldn't ignore it forever, especially since the dreams weren't stopping, if anything they were getting worse—more real, and more sexual in nature. He didn't like it, but he couldn't deny it and that was that. He had to face his fears.
He'd been at work—after the hectic week with the calves, after everything had settled back down to normal—out in the northern territory with Art Granger, near where he had taken Jack that time. Granger was a funny guy, real sentimental, always talking about nature and beauty and shit like that. Ennis didn't mind his company all that much, preferred it to some of the other men that worked on the ranch, but would have rather been alone that day. They'd been out looking for any sign of a mountain lion. There had been some cattle missing, and a local farmer a little ways from the Owl Creek ranch had said he'd seen one out on his property. The whole while though, Granger had been too busy looking out towards the mountains to look for any indications of a wild cat. Eventually he'd turned to Ennis.
"Aren't they wonderful?"
Ennis looked around, up at the mountains where Granger had gestured and nodded.
"Yeah, they sure are."
Art was far away, mouth a little slack, sweat collecting on his forehead.
"You ever seen a nicer sight than this?"
Ennis swallowed hard. He sure had, but didn't want to tell this man. He could only share Brokeback with certain people, had only shared it with one other person to be exact.
"No. Don't rightly think I ever will."
That had brought the feel of the mountain air rushing back, and with it, the image of Jack standing in the moonlight, head tilted up towards the sky, throat exposed, hands in pockets, black hair close to ebony in the night. Ennis thought he was the best sight he'd ever seen, and it had made something stir deep inside, some new and strange feeling that he wasn't sure of, but made him want to touch Jack, to feel his pliant, warm skin underneath his finger tips. He'd wanted to touch his lips, would have damned himself for such a thought any other time, but on Brokeback things had been different, it had just been the two of them, two human beings deeply connected by some powerful force.
Ennis had remembered that moment, had never really forgotten it, but let his mind return to it, to run it over and see how it felt. When he'd gotten home, he re-read the story and was once again left speechless. His first reaction wasn't anger and confusion, though. This time he was able to feel the story, to feel the tragedy. It was crazy, the idea of him and Jack meeting on Brokeback Mountain, falling in love. But, for some strange reason, it wasn't that crazy.
He began to consciously think about Jack again, about the way he'd made him laugh, and more importantly the way he'd made him feel. It terrified him, because he was starting to recognize what the feeling was.
"I'm not no queer."
And that's as far as he'd gotten. Over the next couple of weeks he wouldn't let himself get past that block. He took the quote straight from the book, kept playing it over in his head whenever his thoughts got too far, "I'm not no queer", "I'm not no queer", on and on until it became a personal mantra. But even that couldn't keep him from thinking about Jack. He replayed the days they were together in his mind non-stop, replayed the joy and the sadness and the anger.
Was he still angry? He wasn't sure, but after nearly three weeks, Ennis had gotten tired of being in the quiet house, missed talking to Jack, missed his face, missed his spirit, just honest to God missed the man. He'd decided to take fate into his own hands.
He'd arranged to take a week off work, told Stoutamire that he needed time to sort things out. Stoutamire had agreed, since Ennis never took work off and had done such a good job the past week with the calves, and had even given him an extra week. Ennis was worried about taking so much time off, but Stoutamire had insisted, told him it was no trouble, he'd get two of the hands to split up his work, said they'd been asking for overtime anyway. Ennis had still been weary, but had agreed, figuring that two weeks would be more than enough time to sort things out.
He was incredibly surprised Stoutamire had actually agreed and thrown in the last week. When Ennis had first worked for him, he'd been somewhat of a hard ass, was always upset when Ennis took a few days off, even when it had been for time with his daughters. But he figured that the longer Stoutamire had known him, the more he'd come to trust him. It was a favor for a friend.
Ennis wasn't sure what had given him the courage to actually send the postcard, it was a spur of the moment thing, he hadn't thought too much about it, which was good because he probably wouldn't have sent it if he'd run it over in his mind too much. He'd decided that a postcard would be the best thing, wanted it to have some sort of meaning. He wanted to tell Jack that he missed him, and though he may not have come to terms with what the story said and what he'd been feeling, he was willing to overlook it to see him again. He needed to see him again. He'd finally understood that their friendship was definitely more important than his pride.
And now he wasn't sure if he was coming. He'd thought he'd maybe get a postcard back, or a phone call, or something, but there was nothing, and Ennis was too chicken shit to pick up the phone and call him. He'd found his number, went to the library just like Jack had said he'd done, and looked up his address and phone number. He'd hoped he'd gotten it right, there were several John Twists, but only one lived in Childress. What if it was an old address?
He shook his head. He didn't think so. He'd checked, and it had been the most recent copy of the phone book the library had (if 1998 counted as recent). Jack had mentioned moving several years back, but not any time recently, so he assumed it was up to date. Ennis didn't figure that was the problem. No, if Jack wasn't coming, it was because he didn't want to. Ennis had said horrible things, and now he couldn't take them back. Maybe friendship wasn't as important as pride to Jack.
Ennis stood from his spot on the couch, half empty cup of coffee, now cold in its mug, still firm in his grasp. He shuffled into the kitchen to dump the cold coffee down the sink, and he checked the clock on the microwave. 8:30.
"Maybe he's still coming. Maybe he's only a little ways from the house right now, might've driven all night."
Ennis hoped that was the case, but figured it wouldn't do any good to sit around and think on it too much. He resigned himself to take a shower, figured the water might wake him up a little, clear his mind, and maybe soothe the slight ache he felt in his groin.
Jack was flying down I-25. He had just connected with the interstate from US 87, and was about to cross the New Mexico border into Colorado. It was 10:38 and he still had more than half the trip ahead of him. He could make it in about six hours if he drove like a bat out of hell. And that's about how he felt.
He had the windows down, and the air-conditioning turned off, even though it was over a hundred degrees out. But the whirring wind and the sweat collecting around the collar of his shirt kept his thoughts from wandering, and kept his eyes locked on the road. There was a tidal wave of fatigue lurking over his shoulder, ready to consume him if he let it, but he couldn't do that. He had to keep going
Friday around 12:30, Lureen had come home (she'd packed the night before Jack had found), and then they'd left for Dallas. They'd taken separate vehicles (at Jack's insistence), so he could leave the next day after the barbeque. Bobby drove Lureen, which was perfect really, for both of them, because Jack didn't think he'd survive a few hours of such close quarters with his wife, and with Bobby, Lureen would be able to talk business till the cows came home, where as Jack would have just tuned her out. And by himself, at least he could have time to think. The hours had ticked by painfully slow, and he was antsy as hell, because he was loosing time.
They'd gotten to Dallas in time for the dinner, which had gone exactly as Jack had predicted, a few hellos, some pseudo-friendly banter, then down to business, and as usual after all the business had been covered, drinks and more pseudo-friendly banter. Jack had been day dreaming the whole time about how he could possibly fashion a noose out of his dinner napkin or what would happen if he just stood up and ran screaming from the restaurant. Jack had done neither though, because he figured it wouldn't leave McGuire with a very good impression and then he might go back on the merger.
After a nearly sleepless night, Jack was dragged to a picnic thrown by the McGuire Tractor and Farming Inc. in celebration. The food was decent, but the whole while all Jack could think was how soon he'd be gone, free as a bird, starting his long journey back to the one he loved.
He'd wanted to leave straight from Dallas, but Childress was on the way, and it would take him about four and a half hours to get there. By then it would be evening, he'd have to stop to sleep on the way, so why not get it over with? He was eager as hell to get to Riverton, but he knew he'd need some rest if he was going to make the long trek to Wyoming in a day. As much as it pained him, he decided he'd stop at his house first.
He'd been planning on calling Ennis when he got back, to tell him he was on his way, but when he'd been about ten miles out of town, he'd gotten a call on his cell phone (which he'd forgotten he'd even had with him) from Marla, saying she'd heard he was coming home early so was wondering if he could watch Eliza for the evening because she'd gotten a call from her sister asking her to come visit. Jack, of course, had agreed, but silently cursed Marla for having to go out with her sister. He'd gone straight to Bobby's house and had sat watching reruns of "Are You Afraid of the Dark" with Eliza until she'd fallen asleep on the couch, her little thumb tucked in her mouth—a habit she still had, even though she talked of being a big girl so much.
Marla hadn't gotten back until nearly one in the morning, and thus another day wasted without calling Ennis. Jack had headed back to his house, feeling exhaustion in his bones and had slept restlessly then woken up around five. He hadn't bothered unloading his truck, so he just got back in and started driving right after he got out of bed. He hadn't wanted to waste time calling Ennis before he left, wasn't sure if he'd be up (honestly though, it was Ennis!) and had decided to call him after he was on the road.
Jack looked back at the clock. There was no time like the present. He fished around on the passenger seat, underneath a bag of beef jerky and an empty water bottle and some maps, searching for his cell phone. His hand brushed it, and he picked it up, never taking his vision off the road. He let his eyes drift slightly while he dialed the number, then brought the phone to his ear and waited. His heart was pounding, anticipating the familiar voice. It rang a few times and then the answering machine came on. He hung up the phone and tossed it back onto the passenger seat.
" I'll just call him a little bit later."
Jack wasn't sure why he hadn't just left a message, but eventually decided that he didn't really want to talk to Ennis. He was trying not to doubt himself, trying not to believe that maybe he was being too rash, that maybe Ennis didn't mean for him to come at all. There were a lot of questions trying to bud into his mind, and even the force of the dry desert wind, and the sweat trickling down his back couldn't keep them at bay.
"Maybe he was jest bein' friendly and tellin' me what was new with him. Maybe it was jest supposed to mean that he wasn't angry anymore and wanted ta talk. Maybe it wasn't an invitation ta come at all…"
What if Jack had gotten his hopes up for nothing, and came all the way to Riverton just to find out he was wrong and be sent back to Childress? Jack didn't want to know if that was true. It was odd, but he would rather continue his little fantasy that Ennis actually wanted him to come up to the mountains, that it was the sign he'd taken it for, than to be disappointed when he called and told to turn around and not bother.
"But why in the hell would Ennis send ya a postcard tellin' ya he was goin' up ta the mountains if he didn't want ya ta come?"
Jack didn't know, but he couldn't stop the little snake of doubt from slithering around in his brain. Jack sped his truck up to ninety and gripped the wheel a little tighter. He was coming up to Walsenburg which meant he was only about four hours to the Wyoming border, which meant he wasn't too far from Ennis.
5:45. Ennis had been pacing around the room and was now slumped on the couch, eyes closed, beer in hand. He was completely packed, had been since the evening before, the truck was loaded, the food he'd gone out earlier in the day to buy was all sorted, and to top it all off, Ennis had put on his best shirt, not sure why, but felt like he wanted to look good when Jack arrived. If he ever did.
Ennis had planned on leaving early that morning, figured Jack would have arrived the night before, or at least called to tell him when he was coming so they could meet up there, but none of that had happened and now the clock's arms were spinning, the minutes stretching into hours, the sky getting darker and darker, and Ennis getting surer and surer that Jack wasn't coming.
"No word from him. No sign a' him."
Ennis sat there a while longer then decided that maybe he hadn't gotten the card after all. He sat up and set the half empty beer bottle on the floor next to the couch. As much as he didn't want to, he decided he needed to call him, just to make sure. He had to know.
Ennis stood and walked into the kitchen, picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd found in the phone book. He waited while there were several clicks and buzzes and then finally ringing. He hated calling long distance because the fees were pricey, but this was important, more important than his tight pocket.
There were six rings and then an answering machine picked up. It was a woman's voice, and Ennis figured it was Lureen.
"Hello, you've reached the Twist residence. We're not home right now, but leave a message at the beep and we'll get back ta you as soon as possible."
There was a long beep, and Ennis considered saying something, then hung up forcefully. He had to talk to him; he couldn't just leave a message. Ennis decided that calling had been a stupid idea anyway and went back into the living room.
He started pacing again, walked from one window to the other, glaring out at the empty street, like a restless lion in its cage. Pacing wasn't doing him any good though, so he sat back down on the couch, ran his hands over the cushions on either side of him, trying to imagine the heat that had been there a few weeks before.
"Can't believe we were so close…so close and nothin' happened."
They were together for a brief time, yet they weren't really, at least not the way the story had portrayed. They probably could have been together that way, but Jack had never made a move, and of course Ennis would never have done that. Maybe he would have gone along with it after it had been started, but he'd never have initiated it. Ennis took in a deep breath. He wasn't sure if he could initiate it now, either, hell, he wasn't even sure if that's what he wanted. An image of sleeping in the tent with Jack, butted up close to him, reaching back and grabbing his hand and then placing it on his erect cock, entered Ennis' mind. He felt himself immediately harden and a little blush rose to his cheeks. He curled his hands into fists.
"I'm not no queer."
But what had Ennis expected? What were his motives to want Jack to come camping with him in the mountains? He didn't know, not really, he could almost touch the answer, could feel it just a little ways ahead of him like a blind man might reach out in unfamiliar surroundings. But the answer was a scary one, he did know that, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to face it. All he did know was that he had to see Jack again, had to do something.
Ennis stood again, walked over to the window where he'd first discovered the book and held open the blinds so he could see more clearly. The street was empty—no surprise there.
"He's not coming."
Ennis took a step back from the window, felt like he was sinking little by little into the carpeted floor.
"It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't a' sent the postcard in the first place. Either that or I should've come right out and asked him ta come."
He turned around and grabbed his keys, his hat. He was tired of waiting. It was already a little past six, and if he was planning on going up to Brokeback he figured he better get a move on. Didn't want to have to set up camp in full darkness.
The sun was starting to make its downward journey into the west. Jack had just gotten to Riverton, and was speeding furiously down the narrow streets, even though they were all marked with a 35-mile per hour speed limit. He passed the little Laundromat that marked the street Ennis lived on and made a hard right. He drove another block and then there was the small white house, exactly as he had remembered it. It suddenly felt like he'd never left.
He pulled his truck up to the curb and dashed out, running up the drive. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that Ennis' truck wasn't there.
"Goddamnit!"
He stood still, took in several deep breaths. Ennis had left already.
"Gotta make sure." He muttered to himself.
He wiped drops of sweat that had collected on his upper lip away with the back of his hand and headed up to the door. He wasn't going to let himself in this time, felt like it would be inappropriate, since he still wasn't sure what was going on. He climbed the small front steps and rang the doorbell. He waited. He pounded on the door with his first. He waited some more. Nothing. No sign of life, no Ennis.
"Shit, shit, shit, and fuck ta boot!"
Jack turned and sat down hard, hands coming up to support his face. What was he going to do now? He hadn't made it, Ennis had left with out him, and now he was sitting at Ennis' front door like a lost little boy. He felt anger and disappointment rise in his chest and he kicked the concrete step he was sitting on with the back of his heel.
"Why does everythin' I do go wrong?" His voice was loud, a little hysterical.
"I can't never do anythin' right. What the hell is wrong with me? Is God jest having a little fun and games?"
Jack looked up at the sky and opened his arms, as though inviting a fight.
"Well come on then, big guy! Don't stop now! Let's see how bad ya can fuck up my life!"
He sighed and let his head fall back into his right hand. He rubbed sweat from his left palm on his jeans.
"And now here I am talkin' ta myself like a crazy sonofabitch. I think ya need therapy Jack. Oh really? Yes, I do."
He started to laugh, but soon his laughter died out, turned almost to a moan. He'd blown it, come all this way, and blown it. He should have called. He should have done something, anything, to keep this from happening, to tell Ennis he was on his way, to wait for him, despite his goddamned fear.
"Damn it all to hell. I'm such an asshole. I can't believe he left without me."
But he could believe it. Ennis probably had no idea he was coming. If only the post card had come sooner. Ennis had sent it too late, or there was some sort of trouble with the delivery. Anything to keep Jack from him, right?
Suddenly he stood up and walked back to his truck. There was determination in his stride and his face was set, jaw locked.
"I don't care. I don't care. I'm goin' up ta Brokeback anyway. Maybe he'll be there, maybe he won't, but I have ta know. I can't risk the chance of missin' him completely."
He got back in the truck and turned on the ignition.
It was after nine when Jack started seeing the familiar signs for the Grand Teton National Park. He'd been slightly unsure about where he was going, but had found it was fairly simple after he'd remembered that Ennis had just taken US 26 from Riverton. After that it was a straight shot to the Tetons. One and a half hours later, and here he was. It was dark, not pitch black like it would be in a little bit, but it was definitely getting shady. Jack was still able to recognize the turn off when he saw it, though.
Around him all was still, he had his windows cracked and the radio was shut off, all that could be heard was the gentle whipping of the wind and his own heart beating in his ears. He turned onto a small path, and then his truck was heading up and up, the brush starting to close in on him. He could hear the branches scraping against his smooth black siding, but he could have cared less. An evergreen brushed past the window, and some pine needles were scattered onto Jack's lap and shoulder. The smell was intensely fresh, soothing.
Then, he saw it, just a few feet in front of him, a hulking metal object, stalled in the middle of the narrow path. Jack's heart leapt and he pulled in close behind the truck, turned off his lights and then the engine. He got out carefully, avoiding the pieces of forest that were jutting here and there, then remembered his bags, and reached back into the cab to grab them. At the last minute, he'd decided to bring a sleeping bag, just in case Ennis hadn't brought an extra one.
With the sleeping bag rolled and firmly in hand, and the duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, Jack tiptoed around the truck, discovered it was indeed Ennis' Chevrolet (though he didn't know who else's it would have been) and started walking. He had to stare at his feet, to make sure he wasn't getting off the path, but it wasn't too hard, because there was definitely a break in the forest, which Jack just assumed was the trail.
Fifteen minutes later, and he could see light ahead of him and hear the babbling water of the stream that ran close to the campsite. Jack felt like he was about to explode. He'd thought he'd missed Ennis, missed his opportunity, so he'd headed to this spot on a hunch, and somehow he'd been right. Jack could hear the crackling of the fire, but still didn't have a good enough view to see Ennis.
A few more steps and then, there he was. Sitting on one of the logs where they had sat that night four weeks ago. He had his back to Jack, his head was down, and it appeared he was stoking the fire. Jack inched closer and saw that there was no tent, not much of a camp set up, just Ennis, the fire, and the night. He had to swallow hard. Ennis was the most welcome sight Jack had ever seen. He took another step, and then froze, boot hanging in the air, not wanting to touch down and make any noise.
"What if I have it all wrong though? What if he didn't want me to come? What then?"
Jack didn't know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, which was run up to Ennis and throw himself at his feet, tell him he was at his mercy (though Jack would never do that). But what did Ennis want him to do?
It was too late for any more thoughts, though, because Jack lost his balance and tripped, stepping down hard and snapping a branch. Ennis whipped around. He squinted and looked out into the darkness. Jack stopped breathing.
"Hello? Who's there?" Ennis stood, on guard.
It was now or never. Jack took a deep breath, then stepped out from behind the trees and came into the firelight like he was stepping onto the gallows, thousands of eyes locked on him, waiting for him to give his last words.
Ennis' took a step back.
"Jack?" His voice was strained, quiet, and full of…something. Amazement, probably.
Jack finally got his mouth to work and he swallowed again, not knowing what to say, not knowing what was expected.
"I'm sorry I didn't call."
Ennis, shock starting to fade, laughed slightly and stepped over the log where he'd been sitting, closing the distance.
"You got my postcard?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah. On Friday. I had ta go to a conference in Dallas, and I couldn't leave, I wanted to, I just couldn't till this mornin'."
They stood there facing each other, separated by only three feet or so, an air of amazement hanging heavy between them. Ennis took a step closer.
"I didn't think ya were goin' ta come. Thought maybe ya didn't want to."
Jack shook his head. "Nothing coulda kept me away."
Ennis smiled and silence fell upon them, the moon overhead, not quite full, but bright enough in the darkness, illuminating the two men.