The Path.22
Drabble: 1000 Words
Genre: Canon { A/U now }
Pairing: Ennis and Jack; Ennis' POV
Disclaimer: AP created'em, I just love bein with'em.
Feedback: Very much appreciated.
Thank you all so much for reading The Path and letting me know!
The Path.22
Jack'n me are alla time talking about what we might do when we leave this here mountain; what kinda jobs we could get, where we could live. We've already decided that we'll just tell folks we're cousins. No big deal.
Most folks will believe we are cousins if we don't act funny around them. I'm sure we can hold it together during the work day, we do pretty well here . . well, not every day. Some days we just can't help playing around with each other right out in the sunshine. That's the best. Really the best. Jack likes to knock my hat off my head and then kiss me till I can't breathe. 'Times I pretend to run so he can't catch me; but I usually let him catch me right quick.
Jack is so easy. I'd say he's a real pushover. I can strip him naked right out in the clearing, and he's ready for fuckin. Oh he's so beautiful. Yesterday, I got him naked like that, and then I lost all sense of what I was doin. Just stood there lookin at him. When I finally came to myself, I threw him down in the grass and tried to swallow him whole. Almost succeeded too.
We can't hardly be decent around each other, but I'm sure after a time we'll be able to be normal around folks. We can pass for cousins then.
We're actually thinking about Albuquerque, or maybe Kentucky. They got horses in Kentucky, and they got blue grass there. I sure would like to see that. Anyway, wherever we go, it'll be fine. We'll be together.
Last night Jack got to talking 'bout his old man again. That bastard musta been born with a mean streak a mile wide. Some a the things he done to Jack, well, no sane person would do'em. Like pissin' on his own kid. Who does that?
Seems that any time the old guy got this thing in his head, he'd beat Jack with a belt, then send him to his room with no supper. Jack worked hard e'en though he was just a kid. Him 'n me are the same there. We always worked hard. My dad was tough and none too friendly, but he always let us eat supper b'fore we went to bed. One reason was he wanted to keep up strong enough to keep on doin the chores, and such.
But Jack says he had this wooden stool by his bedroom window. After his whuppin, he'd put his pillow on there, and sit and look out through the night, wishing his dad was dead. Or wishing Lash LaRue would ride up on his black stallion and rescue Jack. Ride off with him 'n keep him as his boy. Every day Lash would say, "Jack, you're the best kid I ever saw. I hope you'll stay with me forever." Or sometimes he'd say "Jack, you work harder and better than any man twice your age, you deserve a break." He didn't say it, but I could tell that these were the words he wished his daddy would say to him.
Once he guiltily told me that he daydreamed that ol' Lash LaRue's stallion stomped his old man into the dirt, for him being so mean to Jack. That big ol' horse killed him with his hooves. Jack 'n me was smilin ear ta ear when he told that story.
Jack never daydreamed about what happened to his mama. I think he never did figure out if she was a bad mama or a good one who just couldn't do nothing to save her little boy. I think she was scared a the old man too. Scared to cross him.
We finally put it together that the old man had threatened to make it ever so much worse on Jack if his mama fought him over it. She wanted to keep Jack alive, so she didn't object when Mr. Twist beat on him. It was much better to think this is the way of it.
Here's the thing. Jack is less 'n four months older than me, from December 19th to April 4th. We are both 19; grown men. In body, that is. Sometimes though, he is still that little boy who can't understand why his daddy ain't got no use for him. None atall. When he gets like that, and it ain't often, I hold him tight and rub his back. I tell him what a good man he is; I kiss his face and tell him all the good things we're gonna have and do, and that his daddy can't never stop us. Never again will that old man lay a hand to my Jack. "He don't deserve a good son like you, no he don't" I say.
When he's feelin better, we add up all our savings we're gonna have when we get paid out at the end a this summer. We finally decided we are going to Kentucky. Lexington has horse farms, and all kinds a jobs that will be good for Jack. So, that's where we are heading when we come down off this mountain.
Still fearful, Jack decided to write to his mama; tell her his old man ain't never gonna get his hands on him ever again. This was Jack's idea, he's so smart. He told her that they should not try to find him, that he was headin for California with his friend "Howard". This way, if they do look for him, they will be lookin in the wrong place. And they will never have heard the name Ennis Del Mar, so they will be lookin for Howard somebody.
Jack got the letter all wrote, and we decided to put it in the matches can until the summer's over. We'll mail it just before we head east to Kentucky.
I can hardly wait.
Wonder if I should write to KE, tell'm where we're headed?
Wonder where Maggie is?
Tbc~