A Better Idea
Chapter 3
Ennis Del Mar arrived home in time to unpack his truck, feed and settle the
horses, and see to his dwindling supply of groceries and clean clothing to determine what needed to be done tonight to prepare for the week ahead. He moved as if by rote, not knowing what to do to quiet the roiling in his guts. It was always the same, whenever he and Jack had words, or left things not quite right, Ennis was a mess. God damn, how he loved that man and now it looked like he had ruined it forever. He had no one else to blame for the way it turned out, but himself.
Ennis had always known that Jack would someday tire of his holding out. He could move along, Jack could. Ennis was the one stuck on square one. He wished he could be different, with all his heart he wished he could be different, but he didn't seem to hold the key to unlock his stark ways and fearful thoughts. If Jack ever got a load of some a Ennis' dreams, he would surely understand why Ennis couldn't trust in divine providence, where them living together was concerned. Those dreams that always ended with Jack being killed, and Ennis unable to get there, unable to save him or stop the torture. Shit, if he could only see, he'd know why.
And now Jack is fed up that I can't be with him enough; never enough time, never enough. Well, god damn, Jack! I feel the same way, don't think I don't. I miss you so much my life is on Hold, waiting for the next time I can see you, hold you, be with you. Ennis continued the argument in his head until he realized that his stomach would not welcome a supper meal.
No fuckin' way. Not tonight.
So, he got in the truck and went to refuel for the upcoming week, and decided to grab a quick cup of coffee and something light at the diner. It would calm him down some, he was sure. Maybe a piece a pie, 'cause he sure didn't want no soup.
Ennis had taken two bites of his apple pie and started pushing the remaining portion around on his plate, unaware of what he was doing. His coffee was left to cool, and he was back inside his own head arguing his case with Jack.
Jack whom he loved, Jack who had put up with his shit for 20 years, Jack who . . . damn, after the week we just had, how can I survive not waking up next to that man every day? I can't I . . .
"Where ya been?" Came the unexpected question from somewhere outside his reverie. Ennis looked up, confused. Cassie was standing there, and she said "Ennis Del Mar." as if it were an accusation. The best Ennis could come up with on short notice was "here and there". Couldn't she see that he was busy? Could she not tell that she was talking to a shell of a man with a broken heart? That he was unable to deal with her or her questions at this time? When she'd said her piece and stormed out, Ennis felt even more like a piece of shit, now he held the world's record for hurting good people! First it was Alma and the girls, then Jack, and now Cassie, just perfect, Del Mar, just perfect! How could I have screwed everthin' up so bad? he wondered.
Ennis tried to pick up the thread of where he was, what he was thinking when Cassie had spoken to him. It was some wild-eyed dream about waking up next to Jack every morning. Now how ya figure that, Del Mar? Livin' on daydreams and love songs again, are ya, boy? Well, ya better come down out a the clouds 'cause the rent has to be paid, and the child support payments met and . . .aw hell, just forget it!
But a little seed had been planted, and Ennis kept worrying it and watering it for the next few days when he could afford to let his mind wander to thoughts that didn't include alfalfa, de-horners or udder balm.
The spartan routine that Ennis Del Mar followed every morning was to get up, make coffee and eat an egg or something cold from the previous night's meal. It wasn't enough, because his always slender frame was even more stripped down looking, like a weasel after a very hard winter. He had been back from the mountain and his week with Jack for a full four days and five nights and he had eaten perhaps one complete meal in all that time.
Ennis felt like he was walking around in circles with one foot nailed to the goddamn floorboards. He performed adequately at work, he supposed, and most folks couldn't tell the difference from his usual taciturn demeanor, but Ennis knew he was different. A broken heart doesn't show on the outside, but he could feel the jagged edges gouging him from inside, ripping little holes in his soul, and nothing in his world was right or fitting.
I wonder if a person can actually die from a broken heart, he thought forlornly. It feels like I can.
As Ennis did every time he and Jack left each other, he estimated when Jack must be back in Texas, fourteen hours away from him. Figuring it in his head, Ennis thought, he would have spent a couple a days with his parents, one long day driving back or two if he was exhausted and needed a motel bed. He always worried that Jack would get overtired and have a wreck or break down in a bad spot.
It was hell never knowing until the next postcard came. It was times like this that Ennis wished to all that was holy, that he had a telephone, but most times it would have been an added expense that he could not justify.
Ennis worked some saddle and leather compound into the harness he was repairing and decided that he would fix an egg sandwich and have a cold bottle of Budweiser for his "evening dining experience". He wondered if he was getting his sense of humor back, after pulling that phrase up from the recesses of his memory - must a been from some commercial he'd seen.
When he was standing at the refrigerator pulling out the Bud, egg and oleo, he looked out the window and realized that he hadn't checked his mailbox in a day or two. Not that he was expecting anything, most a his bills were not the kind to be sent in the mail, except the utility bills.
He got out the little frying pan he favored for the fried egg. He scrambled the egg, wishing for a teaspoonful of milk, the way his mother had made his egg sandwiches. But that was onother item he could not justify, since he used so little milk in his daily diet.
Mail came for Ennis sporadically, his girls would send cards on holidays and his birthdays, of course. But even if it were his birthday, his brother K.E. and his sister Maggie rarely remembered to send him a card. No hard feelings there, he didn't often send cards either. Whenever one a them did find an especially funny card, and mailed it out, it was a really big occasion.
He liked it best when they wrote a note inside and sent some family pictures to update his collection. Ennis remembered his siblings fondly, while putting the cracked wheat bread and sandwich fillings together. He found a dry slice of cheese to melt on top of his egg.
Sitting down with his meal prepared, Ennis considered turning on the little TV in the corner, but he just wasn't in the mood for laugh tracks and game shows, and he especially wasn't in the mood for the news. Always depressing and he didn't need that on top of what he had going on in his life.
He took a big bite of sandwich, chewed, swallowed and drank some beer. He did know how to make a passable egg sandwich, that's for sure. Taking the second bite and chewing absently, he remembered the mailbox again. Even as tired as he was from the day's work, he thought it wasn't good to let things go undone, so he walked out of the trailer to gather the mail. Upon seeing that ratty old, beat-up mailbox, he thought, first chance I get, I need to put up the new box I bought, and them new numbers too.
There was a flyer from the local Smith's Food & Drug grocery store, on Main St., maybe he should look that over. Things were getting mighty thin in his cupboard these days. And sure enough, the water bill had come. Ennis was hoping for a new K & B's or else the Hamley's Saddle Catalog, but didn't see either one in the stack of mail.
Oh my holy je . . . here is an envelope with Jack's writing on it, and the return address is Lightning Flat. He couldn't wait to tell me we're done! Sent it from up at his folks' place. Ennis' legs couldn't hold him. He sat down hard, thunderstruck right there on the ground next to the mailbox. His mind was reeling, his heart was hammering, and he thought he might throw up on the spot. He stared at the envelope, forgot everything else that might or might not have come in the post, and slowly, painfully regained his legs.
When he was able, Ennis got up and went into the house. He set the letter in front of him by his plate that no longer held anything of interest, and wished he could make that envelope disappear. Oh christ, oh jesus, what could be so bad that Jack had to rush to break it off with me through the mail the very next day after I left him at the trail head? Ennis saw water drops hitting his plate with the uneaten sandwich on it, and pushed the plate out of the way.
He still stared at that envelope, more afraid than he had ever been in his isolated, rugged life. He wasn't this afraid when he come upon that bear on the trail that time. Del Mar, he railed at himself, get your wits about you and face the music. Devil hates a coward, or Devil loves a coward. Ennis couldn't remember which was right. Didn't matter, he had to do something about that envelope.
You asked that man to let you be, so who are you goin' to blame for him takin' you up on it? You told him you couldn't take this no more, remember?
After ten long minutes of abject terror, Ennis pulled out his pocket knife and shakily slit the envelope across one end, sliding out Jack's letter. One page, humph, didn't need ta say much, did he? With stiff fingers, the youngest Del Mar boy opened Jack Twist's three flap letter.
Dear Ennis,
I run on up to Lightning Flat like I told you I was, and when I got here, I found my dad has had a stroke. Mama is holding up, for my sake I think, but there's so much to do, and I'm only one man.
Ennis, I need you so bad, in every way a man can need his friend, and I'm hoping you can come up and help me out as soon as you can get away. If you can't I'll understand but I hope you won't disappoint me.
I hate it that we left it like we did, and I want to talk to you about that too. I'm so sorry, Ennis.
Please call my uncle Walter, he'll explain everything to you, and give you directions on how to get here. I am spending most of my time carrying mama back and forth to the hospital, and we might miss you if you were to call here.
I need you by my side, cowboy, now more than ever. Please come the first chance you get.
All my love,
Jack
Ennis put his head down in his hands and sobbed until his body had no more tears to give. Such relief should sound like a happier tune, but what Ennis had put himself through for the last several days, would not go away without releasing all that pent up fear of losing his Jack.
On the bottom of Jack's letter were the phone numbers for Jack's Uncle Walter, and for the Twist house. Ennis jammed his hat on his head and jumped in the truck, like his tail was on fire. The nearest phone booth Ennis could think of was across the street from the Riverton Post Office, he'd never used it but had noticed it from time to time. He hoped it was still there.
He stopped at the Smith's Food & Drug to get change for the phone, and just in case, he got twice what he thought it should cost to make a phone call.
End of Chapter 3