Characters come to me from Annie Proulx, and I don't profit from them.
Beta'd by Marakeshsparrow aka Jessymama.
Chapter 9: Sons and Fathers Jack woke up to an empty bed and the smell of breakfast. Straining to sit up and twist towards the kitchen, he was greeted by Ennis's bashful smile over the counter. "You up? Got breakfast waiting."
"Yeah, I can be." Jack's voice was creaky with early morning. He stumbled to the bathroom, not missing that Ennis's eyes followed his steps, and pissed about about eight gallons of last night's beer.
He came backed out of the bathroom and hit the kitchen bench seat hard while Ennis plopped a plate of toast and a bunless hot dog in front of him.
"The hell?"
"Need ta hit grocery store if yer wantin' decent food... What were you plannin' ta do, anyway, now that we're here."
"Hell, I dunno." Jack thought they should see downtown, but was a little hesitant ta run all the usual tourist-type areas past Ennis. He ate in silence, thinkin' about it. He'd picked up some pamphlets while Ennis was payin' at the shop last night. When his food was done, Jack stood ta go get them. Throwin' them down on the table, he asked, "what suits you?"
Ennis just shrugged, and Jack, needing a shower, decided they could cover that ground soon enough.
Ennis took the first shower after breakfast, though. He was usually a nighttime showerer. That was something Jack knew 'bout him since Brokeback for no particular reason 'cept they'd touched on it 'round the fire one night. Jack spent Ennis's shower time flipping through the travel brochures.
Before Jack hopped in the shower, a still-wet, fresh, n' delightfully temping Ennis, lookin' so young with his wet hair curlin' up, said he'd be right back an' disappeared out the RV door.
Ennis was back by the time Jack emerged, and he didn't bother askin' where Ennis had gone, figurin' a grown man deserved some privacy.
"Well?" Ennis glared at a shirtless Jack as Jack toweled his hair. But even as Ennis glowered, his gaze softened, turned to somethin' more along the lines of wonderment.
Jack stopped his toweling. "Well what?"
"I was jus' gonna ask..." Ennis was distracted. Jack followed Ennis's gaze to the white and pink moon-shaped scar that streaked horizontally across his side. "You already get them stitches out or somethin'?"
Jack poked the wound, a little swollen in places, but not lookin' red or anythin' bad his doc had warned him about. He'd had ta keep it dry for a week, but now he was back to normal activities, including ones he probably shouldn't be doin' just yet. His nurse'd sent him home with instructions not to do anything that made it hurt, including drivin' and sex, for two or three weeks. Well, he'd broke both those rules so far. They'd both been kind a painful, so he thought maybe he'd wait a bit longer ta repeat them.
"Nah," Jack started. "The stitches are on the inside, an' I guess they just dissolve or somethin'."
He looked back and Ennis, who was makin' a funny face, puffin' out his lower lip, and avoidin' Jack's gaze. His eyes kept flickerin' back to the cut, and he shifted from foot to foot. Technically he should have seen it before. It wasn't the first time Jack'd been shirtless in front of Ennis this trip. But he guessed it was the first time in the full light a day, with no other agenda.
"Hey, you alright?" Jack said it quiet. When Ennis got fearful, he sometimes struck out like a wild animal. Jack had ta attempt to calm him 'fore he got there, and Ennis's eyes were rapidly fillin' with somethin'.
Ennis nodded once, bitin' his lower lip.
Jack approached him, wrapped Ennis in his arms. They stayed like that for a minute, Jack feelin' Ennis's warm breath against his shoulder. Jack was shakin' a little bit. He couldn't say why just right now, but sometimes he did that, when emotions ran fever-pitch. Ennis knew all 'bout that, an' was grippin' his arms tight, like he was tryin' ta still the tremors. It's what the did for each other, both threatenin' ta rattle apart, now maybe mor'n ever, but both holdin' each other together in the ways they'd spent twenty years learnin' how. Jack wondered if the last twenty years were just God's way a preparin' them for this moment, but he threw out that idea 'cause it didn't make any sense. There'd been enough moments in those twenty years that were worth havin' for their own sake.
"So what d'ya think we should do today?" Jack knew it was the question Ennis probably had on his mind 'fore all a this started.
"You got somethin' planned?" Ennis's voice was only just above a murmur, but it was right next ta his ear, so he heard it ok.
"Well, up in the mountains not too far 'way from here they got this enormous copper mine. The brochure says you can see it from space. They had a picture of the mine vehicles, with tires on 'em-- so big I can't even say how big, Ennis. It's a strip mine so it's all on he surface-like. Sound interestin' ta you?" Jack had watched the flutter of Ennis's blond hair with his breath as he talked.
Ennis nodded against his shoulder. Jack figured it was probably an interesting enough place, and figured Ennis had probably been fearin' Jack wanted ta do somethin' queer, like take in a musical or whatever Ennis thought them boys did. Ennis did'n' need ta worry much 'bout that. Jack did wanna go downtown 'ventually, but he wasn't any different from the Jack Ennis had always known.
So they packed up some sandwiches for lunch, hopped in Ennis's truck, and drove to the Kennecott Copper Mine. There was an entrance fee of a couple a dollars, which Jack handed to Ennis from his wallet. They went into a building overlookin' the mine. Ennis just stared for a long time while Jack read the displays. When Jack was done he came up behind Ennis.
"They say you can see this thing from space?" Ennis sounded disbelieving.
"That's what they say."
"Guess they could lie. Not like we're gonna check."
Jack laughed. "Gotta wonder who sells them that enormous mine equipment."
"Mine equipment dealer, I reckon."
"No shit." Jack chuckled again.
"Lookit you, plannin' on switchin' careers? You too old for that." They were both stood still, starin' out over the mine, watchin' the workers bustlin' below. For those workers, this was just their daily bread, nothin' special. It made Jack think 'bout all the walks a life there was, all the professions, all the families waitin' for their paychecks. He looked at the men who were so small they weren't even ants, distinguishable only by the movin' of the equipment, and wondered whether any a them were queer. He bet there had ta be a lot a men down there, an' from what Jack knew, some had ta be battin' fer the other team, as the saying went. He wanted ta talk ta Ennis about it too, but he knew better. Wasn't safe here in public, but Ennis wasn't ready fer that kind a talk even in private.
So all Jack said was, "You better watch who you callin' old if I got anything you value."
Ennis turned then to give him a pointed glare, somewhere frozen on the line 'tween censure and mischief in the way only Ennis knew how ta do. Jack took the opportunity to show off his expensive caps, and was rewarding with what looked surprisingly ta him almost like a real, honest-to-god, full-on grin. Probably on account of their bein' no one else in the visitor center this particular day, but still.
"Come on," Jack punched him in the elbow. "Maybe we oughta get back in time ta hit a decent grocery store."
Ennis looked down at his feet and shuffled, nodding absently, and followed Jack back out ta the truck. Not 'the' truck, Jack thought. Ennis's truck. The one he drove me in fer the first time not a few weeks 'go, back ta his place in a snowstorm. Now he's usin' it ta show me Utah, ta show me this impossibly big hole in the Earth, a hole you can see from space, just ta get what we need out of it. Jack thought his heart might burst open as Ennis climbed in an' leaned over ta unlock his door. They ate the sandwiches in the truck before pullin' out.
After leavin' the mine, they stopped off at the grocery store not two miles from where they were stayin'. They got the essentials, Ennis pushin' a mostly-empty cart up an' down each aisle, Jack runnin' to and fro with a basket piled high.
Jack paid the grocery bill while Ennis disappeared ta peer at the ads board at the front of the store. Probably didn't want a be seen buyin' groceries with another man.
That night back at the trailer was pretty much the same as the one before, only this time they had fancy bratwurst instead a hot dogs, an' the air was a little bit chillier. Still, there was firelight and the crackle of strangers' voices. They sat in silence.
At one point, when the fire was burning low and Jack was stoking his arms instead, tryin' a quiet down the goose-flesh, not ready ta go in, not wanting ta be out, a little girl no more'n four came runnin' through followin' a red dog. She wasn't lookin' where she was goin', screamin' out after the dog, an' she was running smack towards the fire.
Ennis was up in a instant, scoopin' her up like so much rag doll. "You better watch out, little lady, or you'll get hurt." He settled her back on the ground and eased back inta the canvas chairs Jack'd brought, an upgrade from the plastic-on-aluminum he'd had up on the mountain, an' bought 'specially for this trip, splurgin' with money he didn't really have ta spend.
The little girl, dirty blond hair fallin' inta her eyes, leaned inta Ennis, against his knee, and said in that distracted way kids had, "My dog... his name is Rusty. An' he, an' he... he got off." She looked at Ennis like he had the answers to he unasked questions, like she was seeing him for the first time.
"Did he now?"
"Yes." She nodded her head emphatically, and pointed in the general direction the dog had gone.
Ennis reached out and adjusted the collar of her blue down coat, bringin' it closer over her chin. "Where's yer mama, little girl?"
She pointed back another direction and fixed gray eyes back on Ennis. Jack just watched in admiration, it seemin' like the little girl an' Ennis had known each other for forever.
Just then a tall, blond woman came trottin' over. There really wasn't no other word for the funny gate she was usin'. "Charlotte, you leave these nice men alone. You can't go around bothering people."
"Weren't no bother, ma'am." Ennis touched the brim of his hat. "She looks just like my youngest did when she was that age."
The woman grabbed at Charlotte's hand, but spared a smile for Ennis. "I'm really sorry."
"No problem," he repeated.
Jack felt awkward an' left out, so he voiced up. "Seems like ol' Rusty was up ta no good, an' lil' Charlotte here was tryin' a corral him." He flashed a sparklin' smile, the one reserved for ladies in his repertoire of top-sellin' smiles, and managed to fish a big one out of Charlotte's mom.
"That dog...," she laughed. "Well, thanks again." She grabbed Charlotte's hand and walked back in the direction she'd come from, hollerin' after her, "Rusty, Rustydog, get over here. Come here." The dog seemed ta obey, as it loped by not moments later.
Jack listened to the dyin' of the flames a moment longer, pullin' his own parka over his chin. "You must be a damn good father," he mused, mostly to himself, at the fire.
Ennis sighed an' said, "Maybe when the girls was little. But after... well, Alma an' I don't get 'long so well no more, an' I guess I stopped..." Ennis let his voice drift off.
"Well, you an' Alma didn't never get 'long so well as I recall."
Ennis flicked eyes over ta Jack, an' looked down at the whiskey bottle he was clutchin'. "She knows. After she told me that... well I guess she must a known fer a while." Ennis took a gulp of whiskey, maybe tryin' a burn up the words like that would burn up the knowledge, too. "Guess after that I stopped comin' by ta see the girls."
"But they still see you. After all, for Francine's birthday..." Jack's tried to paint his face with optimism.
Ennis smiled at him an' passed the whiskey bottle. "Hell, I dunno. Was easier when they were little. Charlotte's age."
Jack laughed deep. "You shittin' me Ennis. I had a four year old, too. Bobby can be a pain in the ass as a nearly-grown man, but ain't nothin' compared ta the pain in the ass he was at that age." Jack took a sip, letting the present slip for a moment into those memories of so-long-ago when hope was still a moving force under everything he had been.
Ennis was eyein' him. "Bet you was a good daddy."
"Nah," Jack shook his head. "Not unless your idea is of a good daddy is a parrot that repeats 'go ask you mama'."
"You an' Bobby... you do stuff together or anything?" Ennis was askin' with genuine interest.
Jack shook his head again, but answered, "Hell, we change tires an' power wash the deck. That what you mean?"
Ennis shot him a look, but Jack couldn't tell if it was the look was shiftin', or the flame-thrown shadows, because he couldn't fix on what Ennis's face was tryin' a say. Finally, when Ennis spoke it was quietly. "Well. You lot better than my daddy."
Jack raised the whiskey to his lips. "I'll drink ta that." It was barely loud enough for the whiskey ta hear, but Jack knew Ennis heard him, too.
Before he actually tipped the bottle, Jack paused, handed the whiskey back ta Ennis with a "Don't give that back ta me."
"Huh?" Ennis's confusion was natural, 'cause Jack was a heavy drinker. But he drank ta forget, ta try an' drown the present, bring back the warm glow of times past, times on the mountain mostly. Even on their trips together, Jack drank ta try and pretend that the trips weren't what they were. But in the here and now, he had nothin' ta forget, nothin' he would want ta forget. He wanted ta box up all these memories, crystal clear without a blurring haze around them.
The doctor made him give up smoking. Ennis made him give up Randall. There was no one left ta make him give up bein' a drunkard but him. Everyone else accepted that in him, expected it even, or at least, didn't expect no better.
Feelin' heavy of a sudden, cold, an' a little bit alone as Ennis took advantage of havin' the bottle to himself, Jack muttered somethin' 'bout it bein' cold as shit, and wandered back inside.
They'd done a lot today, walked a bit more than Jack was used to, and he was wiped out and in pain, so he took a painkiller, laid down on the bed, an' was sound asleep before he even heard Ennis come in.
The next day, Ennis seemed ta know Jack was tired out. He made breakfast, an' didn't ask where they were goin'. Jack folded the bed back to a couch and watched some a those talk shows on their little TV. Ennis grumbled about it the whole time, 'bout stayin' inside, 'bout havin' enough problems in his life he didn't need ta hear 'bout people sleepin' with their sisters or whatever.
"Well, don't it feel good ta know people got a more fucked up life than you?"
"Guess," Ennis muttered.
Jack wondered if they'd ever done one a these shows 'bout gay men, or maybe even gay men whose wives found out their secret 'bout their fishing trips. Maybe he an' Ennis didn't lead less fucked-up lives, just a differently-fucked-up, a different episode.
But if that were so, Jack imaged they could do an episode on just 'bout any person livin' on the face a the Earth. He wasn't very old, but he'd learned that if you started lookin' for insane people or fucked-up lives, you didn't never have ta look too far or hard. Jack guessed that kept a lot of shrinks in business.
After lunch, which Ennis made inside with the stove-- fried chicken, Jack was feelin' a lot better (with some thanks ta another painkiller), an' he decided they ought to drive downtown. Ennis didn't look overly thrilled with the decision, but he agreed.
It was still early enough, an' they parked right near the Utah capital dome. Jack insisted they go on inside there, even though he didn't really know why. Everyone else was doin' it. They didn't spend but ten minutes there 'fore they was walkin' 'round downtown. They found a library where the Mormons keep records on everyone. Jack was a bit anxious knowin' maybe the Mormons had information 'bout his family. He an' Ennis spent 'bout an' hour in there. Jack didn't know what Ennis'd got up to, 'but Jack'd mostly looked in files for the names of relatives, an' wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved that he couldn't find anything he didn't already know. 'Ventually he found Ennis lookin' bored as a dead dog, sittin' at a table by the front door, just watchin' people. Jack walked on by him and out the door. Ennis followed not fifteen feet behind.
"This city is boring as shit." Jack was itching for a smoke. He thought maybe he should get some gum or something.
"Reckon most cities are."
"Nah, there's got a be somethin' ta do here. Maybe we'll eat some dinner."
"Jack," Ennis's voice was low as he walked about two feet behind Jack, "don't think it's such a good idea fer two men ta go inta a restaurant together."
"Well shit, we don't got a go to a place fancy. We both wearin' jeans anyhow." Jack peered up the street. "There's a little Chinese hole-in-the-wall. How's that sound?"
Ennis grunted. "Don't think I'd like Chinese food much."
That stopped Jack right in his tracks. He turned to stare at Ennis, mouth-agape. "You never had Chinese food?"
Ennis just shuffled a bit, lookin' around the sidewalk. That little tidbit, though, had made up Jack's mind. They were goin' a have Chinese. Jack couldn't imagine not ever havin' had Chinese, as often as he and Lureen got it for take-out.
Just as they were gettin' to the restaurant, Jack noticed a pay phone on the sidewalk. Since he happened a be thinkin' 'bout Lureen just then, he told Ennis ta wait up a minute, and stepped up ta the pay phone, makin' it a collect call.
Bobby answered on the fourth ring. "Hello."
"Hey there Bobby. Your ma home?"
"Dad?"
"Yup."
"Nope, she's working late again."
"Alright."
"You alright?"
"Oh yeah, everythin's great. I'm callin' you from the streets of Salt Lake City." Jack tried to sound more enthusiastic about the city than he felt.
"Cool."
"You home alone then?"
"Uh. Yeah."
Jack breathed in and out once, trainin' his patience an' his hearin', 'cause he thought he heard a voice in the background. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I done my homework an' all."
"That's good... What's yer girlfriend's name again? Dawn, is it?"
"Yeah."
"She over there?" Jack tried not to sound judgmental, just conversant.
"... Yeah."
"Yeah. I thought so."
"We're just watchin' TV."
"Yeah. How old are you now?"
Bobby paused. "Seventeen."
"Bobby, I was a seventeen-year-old boy once, too, ya' know. Hell, I had more than one high school girlfriend 'fore I dropped out. 'Believe it or not, there was once a time when Jack Twist liked a pretty gal. So I know what kind a TV you and Dawn are up to. You got some sort a protection? 'Cause I am not old enough ta be a granddaddy."
The silence on he other end was so long and still that he wondered if the call'd been dropped.
"Bobby?"
"Dad."
"You hear me? You got some protection?"
Bobby's voice wavered when he responded. "I heard you."
"Well?"
"You... you..." Bobby's voice faded away, an' when he spoke again it was clearly with barely controlled emotion. "I hate you, you know that?" An' then the phone slammed down.
Jack stood there, holdin' on to the quiet receiver, tryin' a make sense a what just happened. Maybe Bobby didn't like his dad buttin' into his sex life. Maybe Bobby was annoyed at bein' caught, or maybe he'd wanted Jack ta get mad with him. Jack turned, shakin' his head as he left the phone behind him. Ennis was watching from the awning of the Chinese place, an' turned to go in when he saw Jack comin' towards him.
Suddenly, not quite totally clear of the pay phone, still replayin' the conversation to try an' figure out what went wrong, it hit Jack like a megaton atom bomb. Believe it or not, there was once a time when Jack Twist liked a pretty gal. "Fuck." The muttered swear word drew more than one alarmed stare from the upright denizens of Salt Lake City. He must be the stupidest fuck to ever live, if Bobby'd heard in his words what he'd meant by them. He didn't know if it was that, or maybe he'd just embarrassed Bobby with the 'protection' talk. He was still cursin' himself silently for whatever the cause as he approached the restaurant.
"What's wrong with you?" Ennis was waiting outside.
"Nothin'," Jack muttered. "Just exchanged words with Bobby."
Ennis clearly wasn't totally buyin' what Jack was sellin',
They stood on the sidewalk for a moment, Jack's temper and confusion both coolin' a bit. For a kid he claimed not ta care too much about, Bobby's matter-a-fact words had cut right down to his soul. Ennis looked confused as well, though for a different reason. Their breaths came in chilly puffs. Jack looked into the sky, seein' that it was startin' ta flurry a little bit, a snow with cold, but at least it was white all the same. He reached inta his pocket for his painkiller bottle and popped one in his mouth, swallowin' it without water, makin' the cold fade.
"I'm sure he don't mean nothin'," Ennis muttered in a heroic attempt to soothe Jack.
"Well, it don't stop my appetite. I am not lettin' you off the hook on the Chinese food." Jack was itchin', achin', dyin' for a fuckin' cigarette, but instead he just went inta the restaurant and got them a table, his fingers workin' silently at his side as if he had a smoke anyway.
Jack ordered Szechuan Beef, though his came less spicy than he liked in Texas, an' he ordered Chicken Chow Mein for Ennis, with white rice, 'cause that was a safe dish, bland how Ennis liked things. Ennis seemed ta enjoy it too, 'cause he cleaned his good-size plate, while Jake had leftovers. That was highly unusual. Jack liked his food, if he was feelin' alright. Maybe the talk with Bobby had got to his appetite after all.
By the time they'd finished dinner, Jack'd just about convinced himself that maybe Bobby hadn't heard what he'd meant in that sentence. Maybe Bobby was just upset at havin' been called out about Dawn. Either way, he'd been reminded with a punch to the gut that it did matter to him what Bobby thought about his dad. Jack had accomplished precious little in his life. He got his job and his money by marryin' Lureen, though he was tellin' the truth when he claimed that's not why he'd married her. Hell, when they'd got married, they'd had some dreams about just savin' enough ta break out a Childress and makin' a name for themselves someplace else. Lureen was partial to San Antonio and its flowered walkways. But life usually had other ideas. First Bobby tied things up. Back then, they'd needed Fayette's help with the baby, an' money'd been scarce. Eventually, Lureen'd got so entrenched in her daddy's business, and Jack so far buried under a stack of hopelessness sky-high, that uprooting seemed like too much work to both of them.
Anyways, he had accomplished precious little. But even so, he'd got one little boy to actually look up to him. Daddies were heroes, the people who fix things and teach things and take care a you, an' they never have ta prove that. To not have Bobby's admiration... well, he didn't have a whole lot left after he lost that. Ennis. Ennis part-time. And maybe his ma.
They drove back to the trailer in silence. Ennis looked blank-faced. Jack excused himself an' walked to the little general store to use the pay phones out front.
Makin' it another collect call, he managed ta connect to Lureen this time.
"Hello?"
"Hey there."
"Hello Jack." She sounded cold, and he knew that Bobby'd told her somethin'. The silence was uncomfortable. Jack was waiting for a scolding. "How's your trip?"
Taken aback by the cordial words, Jack paused and sucked in a breath. "Yeah, good."
"That's good."
"I talked to Bobby earlier."
"I heard." After an awkward pause, he heard a familiar shuffle as Lureen stretched the phone cord, probably towards the kitchen ta be alone.
"I... I'm concerned over whether he an' Dawn--"
"Jack, why don't ya leave the parenting ta me 'round here?"
"Did you... I mean--"
"I been leaving them in his drawer for weeks."
Jack sucked in a breath. "How did you--"
"Jack. They're seventeen. They hardly have a thing in common. You ever heard them have a conversation? What did ya think they were doin' tagether?"
"Well damn."
The ensuing silence told Jack that Lureen wasn't gonna let him off the hook, an' she certainly wasn't goin' a deliver his news for him. He contained a shiver in the cold night air, an' cleared his throat. "I, um, might a accidentally said... somethin' ta Bobby."
"'Bout Dawn?" She was baitin' him, trying ta get him ta say more ta make him feel small. It was one of the things that made Lureen hard ta live with. Hell, if he hated anything about her, this was it.
His jaw muscle worked a bit before he bit it out. "Might of insinuated I wasn't too drawn to a pretty lady, if you catch my drift."
"Which lady?"
"Lureen..."
She sighed, a sign that she was still at least partly human. At least she used oxygen like one. "He an' I already talked about it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He might not be an ace student, but I guess he had his suspicions or somethin'. All the same, it's different ta know. I know that."
"And I know ya do--"
"Let me finish. He ain't too happy, but he's over it."
"That's good ta know."
"Yup."
Just like that, Jack knew how it would be. Bobby had his mama's ability ta jus' unknow anything that didn't fit in his little Texas world, an' this was just goin' a be one of those things. Like poverty, war, and world hunger, a queer man was just too far outside of Bobby's experience for Bobby ta grapple with. Jack understood that, as he hadn't been too unlike that himself when he wasn't much older'n Bobby. But Jack sought out experiences. People like Bobby an' Lureen needed more control over their lives than that.
He exchanged a few more terse pleasantries with his wife before biddin' her goodnight and returnin' to the person he loved.
Jack stumbled back, exhausted, through the cold night air to the trailer, just to find Ennis was in the shower. Jack was beat. Still, even if he laid down and drank a bottle of pills, he might not be sleepin' tonight. He peeled himself back off the couch and out the door. Rummaging into one of the storage areas under the RV, he found the big black case, and pulled it on inside.
Jack had never learned to play the guitar. What he learned on the harmonica he'd taught himself, an' that mostly consisted of suckin' an' blowin', which Jack had found he had a talent for in all kinds of arenas. But even so, he'd stole his daddy's abandoned guitar back in his rodeo days, kept it around in a closet. It was just a diversion. Jack moved fingers across the frets and imagined he knew what notes he was makin', moving his right hand across the strings, havin' learned by now that you're far less likely to sound like an idiot if you just pluck on string at a time.
When Ennis came out of the shower, fully dressed and wet-haired, the usual gloom on his face was immediately replaced with alarm, an' Jack smiled, strummin' hard across the strings. Whatever chord he'd struck sounded like terror, and Ennis cringed.
"Where you get that, huh?"
"This? It was my old man's. I don't know shit about playin' it."
"Yeah an' it shows. Give it here."
Jack watched as Ennis plunked down next to him, shower of fresh water flyin' off his grayin' hair. Ennis wrenched the guitar unceremoniously from Jack's hands. Eyin' it for a moment, he moved his fingers over the frets with a glimmer in his eye that resembled the one they held when he was inspecting his horses' fetlocks, like he knew had somethin' precious an' meaningful. Ennis moved his right hand experimentally, and coaxed a softly harmonious sound from what Jack had thought of as barely more than a piece of wood with some metal strings stretched across it.
Jack didn't move. He didn't hardly breath. Ennis wasn't lookin' anywhere but at the fingers of his left hand as they moved awkwardly over the strings. Still, Ennis's awkward strummin' was a million times more melodious than Jack could wrangle from the instrument. The song started slow at first, but picked up carefully until it was downright fast. Jack wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ennis's hands, or anything about Ennis, move so fast, but his hands raced over the strings. He was hummin' too, long, smooth notes that matched the fast chords. Jack was honestly too entranced ta even act entranced.
The last note held some sadness in its tone as it faded away. Jack gasped for air. Even if it hadn't been Ennis playin', it was still one of the most exhilarating tunes he'd ever heard on the guitar. The addition of Ennis's strong, calloused hands dropped the bottom out of that.
Ennis was still lookin' down at the instrument with a kind of funny look on his face that Jack recognized from more intimate times. Jack cleared his throat. "Didn't... didn't know you played."
Ennis shifted against the velveteen patchwork covered in sheets that was their bed, his leg brushing 'gainst Jack's. Our bed. "I. Uh. Little." The silences between words pounded in contrast to the fast chords of the moments before.
"Where'd you learn that?" Jack poured every ounce of tenderness into his voice, well aware that Ennis was lettin' Jack drink in somethin' more, drink from that deep, secret well of emotion that made Ennis tick. He laid a hand carefully on Ennis's forearm. "Ennis?"
"My, uh." Ennis cleared his throat, and Jack saw his eyes were shinin'. "My dad taught me."
"You play often?"
"Not... never in front a nobody. Haven't played in a long time."
Jack realized it in the mistiness of Ennis's eyes. All these years, an' he had never really thought to ask. He thought Ennis had been blinded by a man in a ditch, but the truth was, it was Jack himself who hadn't been able to see beyond that, who hadn't been able to see that Rich and Earl wasn't the point here.
Ennis loved his daddy.
Jack hated his old man. He had as early as he could remember, with that fiery burnin' kind a hate that his ma said sent men straight to hell. In a way, it had been freedom. Already goin' a hell, might as well make it a trip to remember.
But Ennis... Ennis held out hope, was holdin' out hope still maybe. He was the real deal. He might a started out as a sheep-herding fuck-up like Jack, but Ennis had made it. He was a real cowboy from the top of his weather-beat hat to the bottom of his holey-soled boots. He played the guitar in secret. He had two daughters and drove a Chevy. Some part of Ennis was still seekin' the approval of his father, just like Jack had needed Bobby's approval. And no part of that picture-perfect cowboy involved doin' a horizontal two-step with a man from Lightning Flat.
For once, being Ennis's private shame didn't make Jack angry. Ennis was dancin' between his daddy's approval and Jack's love. Jack would always be there, so maybe he took that for granted. Jack had done that exact same thing with Randall and Ennis. Seein' it all so clear now, though, Jack felt like he had never loved Ennis more.
He rested a firm hand on Ennis's shoulder. "Well. I bet your daddy would be awful proud of you." Jack was surprised to have said it. Maybe even more surprised to have meant it. After all, Ennis had beaten down a gay man, with his words and his fists and everything else he had. And for once, Jack didn't mean himself. Still, even above that, Ennis was the hardest worker Jack had ever met. He didn't know Ennis's daddy, but he knew the type, an' he bet that alone would a made the man proud. Probably that's why Ennis did it. There were lots of things 'bout Ennis worth bein' proud of, anyway, and if Ennis's dead daddy wasn't smart enough to see it, Jack couldn't help that.
Ennis just shook his head, pushed the guitar firmly into Jack's arms, and stood, forcing Jack's hand to drop empty to the couch.
"Gonna head on ta bed if it's all the same to you," Ennis muttered.
Jack nodded, and they closed up for the night. They lay down far apart, not touching for once. It felt right, though. Somehow, tonight, not touching seemed to pull firm that thing that lay between them, made thick the empty spaces. It'd been an emotional one for Jack, and he slept better than he thought he would, wrapped in the knowledge that at the end of the day, both Bobby and Ennis had chosen him over what they wanted to want to choose. The words that had never been spoken to him directly wafted above him in the air, whispering daily that the people in his life moved to accommodate him. Even Lureen, Randall, his ma, everyone had shifted just a little bit, moved their stances, changed their viewpoints. Because Jack had been worth it to them. Being worth it to anyone was a brand new concept to Jack Twist, and here people had been making room for him in their spaces and their silences, the things not said, the conversations not had.
Since that day on the mountain, when Ennis had shifted his work ethic, his very sense of self, to warm up in a space next to Jack, a space for two men in a one-man bedroll. Those weeks up there, they hadn't talked about the sex, but they'd screamed volumes in their grunted silences. They'd known, somehow. And Ennis... Ennis had to abandon his very concept of salvation, his daddy's heavenly approval, to know that.
But Ennis'd known it every day since then, of that Jack didn't doubt.
And he made that knowing place for me, because to him, I was worth it.