South End of the Gallatins, Spring 1972
Apr. 29th, 2012 02:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrobay1990Title: South End of the Gallatins, Spring 1972
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrobay1990
Genre: post canon
Word count: 2900
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
Years on years they worked their way through the high meadows and mountain drainages, horse-packing into the Big Horns, Medicine Bows, south end of the Gallatins, Absarokas, Granites, Owl Creeks, the Bridger-Teton Range, the Freezeouts and the Shirleys, Ferrises and the Rattlesnakes, Salt River Range, into the Wind Rivers over and again, the Sierra Madres, Gros Ventres, the Washakies, Laramies, but never returning to Brokeback.
The Gallatin Range is located in the U.S. states of Montana and Wyoming and includes more than 10 mountains over 10,000 feet. The highest peak in the range is Electric Peak at 10,969 feet. The range extends 75 miles north to south and averages 20 miles in width.
The southernmost peaks of the range are in the northwestern section of Yellowstone National Park, however the majority of the range is in Gallatin National Forest. The Yellowstone River flows north on the eastern flank of the range.
South end of the Gallatins
April 29, 1972
Okay, Jack thought, as he drove away from their campsite at the south end of the Gallatins.
Okay, six months…six months to wait until they got to see each other again.
When they started going on the fishing trips in '67, he used the time between trips to
sharpen his memories of Ennis...things he liked to think about… memories of their trips
that he carried around with him like gold.
The only way he could remember everything was to start at the beginning of the trip,
and go through the days one at a time. This trip had been the best so far...from the
first day he saw Ennis drive up and get out of his truck...and it had only gotten better.
He settled back in the seat for the long drive down to Texas…let his mind wander back
over the last nine days and grinned to himself - plenty to keep him going this time.
They had arrived on April 21; first thing he thought was how good Ennis looked to him...
and then all the months of missing him had dissolved as Ennis had grabbed him and hugged
him hard.
And that first kiss...the first time they kissed after all that time apart...Christ, it was like they
were trying to crawl inside each other, they couldn't get close enough...Jack surprised when
Ennis had kept on holding on, just a few seconds longer than usual, and said, real soft,
breathing right in his ear, "Goddamn...missed you, Jack."
Like gold.
4/21/72
Ennis had been early for a change, Jack was still unloading food and camping gear
when he heard his truck and trailer pull up close by.
There was that first jolt of seeing him again...wishing he could make time stop as he
looked at him...then the head-long rush to get their hands on each other...and that kiss.
This time they hadn't fucked right away...knew they could any time they wanted to...
that in itself a freedom rarely experienced...it was enough that they were together...
getting to know each other again...catching up, talking as old friends do.
Sex would come a little later...only a little later.
4/21/72, Dusk
This time was different….he had come to Jack.
Usually they were on each other first thing and it didn't last long...
being away from each other for six months usually meant a fast first fuck.
But not this time...Ennis came to him as night was falling...knelt down...
unbuttoned his shirt...rubbed his hands up and down Jack's chest...but
slow...and it felt so good...his hands on him... don't stop don't stop...
he kept repeating it in his mind...kept his eyes on Ennis, to remember.
Ennis looked up into Jack's eyes and the kiss that happened held all of
his unsaid feelings...
It was love they made.
4/22/72, Dawn
Next morning, just before dawn, Jack woke to Ennis reaching
for him...coming to him with rough hands and soft tongue...
tender words on his lips...words of missing, wanting, needing.
Once in a while he wondered what it was about the dark that
made it easier for Ennis to open up. Wasn't like they
couldn't see each other...wasn't like they couldn't
see into each other’s eyes. But Ennis sure preferred the dark.
Oh, he'd fuck in the daylight. He'd fuck and
more in the day time, bright sun overhead...yessir,
Jack had some fine memories of Ennis in the sun...
rearing up over him, looking down at Jack...or coming
up behind him when he didn't expect it, taking him down...
Those were some no-doubt-about-it hot fucking thoughts
that got him through some cold, lonely nights. And
this was shaping up to be one of their best trips yet.
And the talking, the words that Jack loved to hear...
in the dark Ennis, driven by a passion he rarely felt,
would open up effortlessly, and Jack savored every word...
knew he'd probably never hear what he wanted to most,
but what Ennis gave in the dark was enough...most of the time,
when they were together it was enough...long nights in
Childress, though...that was a different story.
Well, what the fuck can you do? Can't have everything...
4/22/72, Day
One day in and already Ennis had a feeling about this trip…like it was going to
be the best one yet.
They had saddled up and were riding a trail that snaked unevenly up and around
the mountain…as it narrowed the horses picked their way carefully along the stony
soil, until the path widened and flattened, trees falling away, the land open and even
again.
No doubt about it, he had missed Jack more than he even thought possible…the times
between without him were getting harder and harder to stand. He never consciously
thought about it, was blindsided with harshest longing in the middle of the most
routine task: saddling his horse, eating lunch in the bunkhouse with the other hands,
talking to his kids…suddenly his mind would register some forgotten word, phrase,
touch…his stomach would knot, his eyes would close, bringing the memory into sharp
relief, the pain was undeniable.
It took Ennis longer and longer to recover from these waking dreams…why he was
so damn happy to see Jack this time, when he’d finally got his hands on him at the
trailhead, didn’t want to let him go.
They turned the horses to leave the trail, and headed towards a meadow as the
wind picked up and blew the grass flat.
Suddenly Ennis, with a grin on his face, looked over at Jack, picked up his reins,
whistled shrilly through his teeth, dug his heels into his horse and yelled, “Let’s go!”
The freedom was beyond words, didn’t need words…wind making his eyes tear,
thunder of the horses’ hooves, day a perfect mix of sun and clouds…and Jack
right next to him, riding hell bent for leather. They tore across the meadow,
one weaving right, the other left, cutting ahead of each other, whooping and
yelling like savages…there was only here and now, and for a time he was happy.
The exhilaration of their wild ride followed them back to camp, Ennis affected
even more than Jack…had him up against a tree, fumbling at his belt, his shirt,
unable to get his hands to do his bidding, trying and failing to get at skin, until
Jack took over, stripped, and finally pulled Ennis down on top of him…Ennis
took it from there.
4/22/72, Evening
Ennis, for once, was too tired to grill the steaks, so Jack took up the task.
After they ate, Jack lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in a forceful stream,
took a drink from the bottle of Jack Daniels, passed it to Ennis, “One a the better
days we had, doncha think?”
Ennis was already lying down, head propped on a blanket against a log, legs
stretched out, boots off, crushing out the cigarette he’d lit after dinner;
he took the bottle from Jack and drank, “Know it was good for me…decent
steak and two good rides.” He looked sideways at Jack, “Maybe, you up
to it, make it three before the night’s out.”
Turned out those were Ennis’s last words of the night. He fell asleep holding
the bottle, which tilted away from him as his grip on it relaxed. Jack sat
across from him smoking and thinking, and unlike Ennis’s thoughts, his
turned not backward to other good times, but forward to times he hoped
would come to be.
He leaned over to take the bottle from Ennis’s fingers, seeing, in his mind’s
eye, this very thing happening on a place of their own……Ennis falling
asleep after supper, too tired to go inside to bed…but in Jack’s mind, there
was a bed to go to…and that bed was filled, not only with all the pleasures
they both desired, but the intimate warmth and security, the comfort and
caring that they both lacked in their everyday lives.
Jack took another drink and stirred the fire, indulging in pleasant
thoughts of what still might come to be…you never know.
4/23/72, Morning
Ennis kicked the bottom of Jack’s foot as it stuck out of the tent.
“Food’s up, boy.” And he walked back to the fire and crouched down,
turning the eggs one last time, scalding his fingers as he plucked the
biscuits from the pan, and blowing on them as he quickly tossed them
onto a plate.
Jack had brought so much food this time, food that Ennis rarely saw.
The usual eggs and bacon of course (Wyoming bacon was better than
what Jack brought, but no mind), but the thick, strong coffee he loved,
store-bought biscuits that tasted better than Alma’s, slabs of venison
and buffalo meat that did not go amiss at breakfast. Ennis was already
starting to unbutton the top of his jeans after a meal, not for the usual
reason.
Jack came out of the tent half awake, rubbing his eyes, wearing only jeans.
But the smell of what was coming from the campfire raised his senses,
and he sat on a flat boulder near the fire and started to fill his plate.
Ennis sat across from him in a camp chair and poured a cup of coffee,
lit a cigarette, looked towards the sky, “Clouds comin in, no day for
ridin, already staked the horses. Reckon we could fish some, but
we got more food’n we need already.” Sly smile as he looked over
at Jack, “Any ideas?”
Jack, mouth full, only nodded.
4/24/72
Gallatin River
“You still got work regular?” They had ridden down the mountain this time,
picking up paths traveled by few before them, so overgrown that they
had to ride nose to tail. One trail had gotten so thick they’d had to
turn back and try another, and as they emerged from the woods
they followed the river for a time as it led them under spruce and
cottonwood trees, fir and aspen.
After riding for some time, they rounded a bend and came on a small
waterfall, first one in all their time on the trails. They pulled up and
staked the horses, and sat on large boulders and each lit a cigarette.
“Most times. Slows down some, so I pick up on the road crew, whatever’s
there. How you like sellin them – what’s he sell? – combines? Balers?”
“Both. Sell whatever a farm uses. Beats ridin bulls……ain’t like havin
my own place, though. Still want that.”
He fell silent as he tried to sense Ennis’s mood. This trip was going better
than he expected, Ennis open and talking. That ride they’d had yesterday
– both acting like kids – something he hadn’t felt in so long, so fucking
long...and after, Ennis had been almost frantic to get at Jack, feverish and
grasping, as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough.
“Place comin up for sale near Worland, old man told me about it.
Fifteen hundred acres, ‘bout five hundred head – Black Angus - all set up,
just needs new owners.” He didn’t look away from Ennis as he said it.
It wasn’t anything Ennis wanted to get into, but his good mood and
relative contentment at being with Jack…being with Jack in the place
he, they both, loved most, in the mountains, with lake and river and
new found waterfall, with woods and high air, sun, clouds, blue sky,
spring breeze at his back, and away from the rest of the world who
didn’t give a damn about him…it wasn’t anything he wanted to get
into, but he would this time…go as far as he could.
“Big place, five hundred head.”
“We could handle it.” Spurred on by Ennis’s short but neutral, not
negative, answer, Jack got up and started pacing, finally putting
words to ideas that had gathered dust in his head over the years
as he had thought time and again of a way to make it work, anxious
to put things in a positive light, to show Ennis that they could
do it. He spent his days talking men into buying things they didn’t
know they needed, didn’t think they could afford, until they talked to him.
He was unaware that he was grinning as he walked and talked,
euphoric in his enthusiasm to present a perfect scenario to an
unwilling client.
“Ennis, I got it all worked out on paper, we could do it. I been puttin
money away, got enough for a down payment and with what LD
would give me to go…”
“Jack.”
“He’ll give me, shit, I don’t know how much, but a lot, more’n
enough to make a go a that place…”
“Jack.” Ennis had gotten up and walked over to Jack as he paced,
and as Jack took in the look on Ennis’s face, his smile faded…he
looked at the ground, then back up at Ennis.
Jack walked to his horse, “Let’s get back to camp.”
The ride back was in total contrast to their joyful journey of the day
before, but Ennis was intent on not letting anything ruin this trip,
he had waited too long, would have to wait too long for the next one.
Once in camp, Jack sat and smoked, got up for a bottle, cracked the
seal and drank deep, didn’t offer it to Ennis. His mood had darkened,
and at that moment, he didn’t much care what Ennis did.
Ennis let him be. He took care of the horses, got the fire going, pulled
some venison from the grub box, peeled potatoes, then turned to Jack
and said, “I’m goin down to the river, get washed up, you comin?”
Jack was still pissed that his offer had been turned down again, and said
nothing, so Ennis walked over to where he was lying against a log, hat
down over his face, and said again, “You comin with me?”
He started to turn and go alone when Jack pulled himself up and followed.
Once on the bank they stripped and walked slowly into the frigid running
river, crouching down and cupping the icy water in their hands and
rubbing it over their bodies as fast as they could.
“Shit, I’m clean enough!” Ennis turned and scrambled out of the water
and grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his shoulders, then rubbed it
briskly over his body and tossed a towel to Jack as he sprinted up the
bank. Both relatively dry, they lay on the towels next to each other,
trying to warm up in the waning sunshine.
He had to try one more time.
“Ennis…”
“Jack. I can’t.”
To soften the blow, he turned onto his side and drew Jack to him, held
him close. They stayed that way, close and connected, but heat rising,
and when Jack rolled him over, Ennis didn’t pull away.
The Last Night
Jack stirred the embers with a stick, flame shot up then
back down, flickered feebly...he tossed more wood chunks on.
It was past midnight, quarter moon high.
“Almost May and still cold as a witch's tit up here.”
He crawled on his hands and knees the few feet to Ennis,
shoved his legs apart, turned and settled back against his
chest...Ennis's arm around his waist pulled him closer
still...Jack smiling as he felt Ennis's lips in his
hair...then the smile left his face...he closed his eyes
and willed time to stand still...wanting to remember everything.
“Do you?”
“Oh, for crissake...do I what?” Knowing. His tone was rough,
direct contrast to his fingers stroking Jack's arm.
The spell wasn't broken.
“Had a good time, didn't we? One of the best.” This from Jack.
“Yeah, we did...noticed you quit your bitchin' this time...hardly
any at all.”
“Nothin' to bitch about for a change...you were less of a pain
in the ass than usual.”
“Yeah, well...you mighta had somethin' to do with that...”
There were only night sounds, mixed with their slow, even breathing
as they tried to hold back the night from moving on toward morning.
“So...do you?”
“Next time we'll be in a fuckin' cabin...first class...
well, compared to the ground...good thing, too...be cold
up here in October.”
They lay like that in their comfortable silence, bodies touching,
thoughts apart.
“So...do..?”
Ennis drew a lungful of air and tilted his head back,
yelled at the sky, “Jesus Christ, Jack!”
Then head back down, cheek against Jack's hair, soft,
“What do you want from me?”
“Ennis.”
“Yeah...Yeah! I do…..all right?”
Close enough.
April 29, 1972
So he had gotten turned down again. That was the one moment in
an otherwise idyllic two weeks that prevented it from being perfect…but
they hadn’t had a perfect trip yet, something or other always came up.
He knew Ennis had gone out of his way for the rest of the trip to make
things good for Jack, doing little things trying to show that he was doing
the best he could. Jack wasn’t sure if he really was doing the best
he could. He remembered the story Ennis had told him the first time he’d
brought up the cow and calf operation, knew it must have been bad,
knew Ennis was scared. But he’d never completely understand Ennis’s
staunch refusal to even consider Jack’s ideas.
Still, driving back to Childress after nine near-perfect days, Jack was
momentarily happy, and already planning ahead.
Author:
morrobay1990Genre: post canon
Word count: 2900
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
Years on years they worked their way through the high meadows and mountain drainages, horse-packing into the Big Horns, Medicine Bows, south end of the Gallatins, Absarokas, Granites, Owl Creeks, the Bridger-Teton Range, the Freezeouts and the Shirleys, Ferrises and the Rattlesnakes, Salt River Range, into the Wind Rivers over and again, the Sierra Madres, Gros Ventres, the Washakies, Laramies, but never returning to Brokeback.
The Gallatin Range is located in the U.S. states of Montana and Wyoming and includes more than 10 mountains over 10,000 feet. The highest peak in the range is Electric Peak at 10,969 feet. The range extends 75 miles north to south and averages 20 miles in width.
The southernmost peaks of the range are in the northwestern section of Yellowstone National Park, however the majority of the range is in Gallatin National Forest. The Yellowstone River flows north on the eastern flank of the range.
South end of the Gallatins
April 29, 1972
Okay, Jack thought, as he drove away from their campsite at the south end of the Gallatins.
Okay, six months…six months to wait until they got to see each other again.
When they started going on the fishing trips in '67, he used the time between trips to
sharpen his memories of Ennis...things he liked to think about… memories of their trips
that he carried around with him like gold.
The only way he could remember everything was to start at the beginning of the trip,
and go through the days one at a time. This trip had been the best so far...from the
first day he saw Ennis drive up and get out of his truck...and it had only gotten better.
He settled back in the seat for the long drive down to Texas…let his mind wander back
over the last nine days and grinned to himself - plenty to keep him going this time.
They had arrived on April 21; first thing he thought was how good Ennis looked to him...
and then all the months of missing him had dissolved as Ennis had grabbed him and hugged
him hard.
And that first kiss...the first time they kissed after all that time apart...Christ, it was like they
were trying to crawl inside each other, they couldn't get close enough...Jack surprised when
Ennis had kept on holding on, just a few seconds longer than usual, and said, real soft,
breathing right in his ear, "Goddamn...missed you, Jack."
Like gold.
4/21/72
Ennis had been early for a change, Jack was still unloading food and camping gear
when he heard his truck and trailer pull up close by.
There was that first jolt of seeing him again...wishing he could make time stop as he
looked at him...then the head-long rush to get their hands on each other...and that kiss.
This time they hadn't fucked right away...knew they could any time they wanted to...
that in itself a freedom rarely experienced...it was enough that they were together...
getting to know each other again...catching up, talking as old friends do.
Sex would come a little later...only a little later.
4/21/72, Dusk
This time was different….he had come to Jack.
Usually they were on each other first thing and it didn't last long...
being away from each other for six months usually meant a fast first fuck.
But not this time...Ennis came to him as night was falling...knelt down...
unbuttoned his shirt...rubbed his hands up and down Jack's chest...but
slow...and it felt so good...his hands on him... don't stop don't stop...
he kept repeating it in his mind...kept his eyes on Ennis, to remember.
Ennis looked up into Jack's eyes and the kiss that happened held all of
his unsaid feelings...
It was love they made.
4/22/72, Dawn
Next morning, just before dawn, Jack woke to Ennis reaching
for him...coming to him with rough hands and soft tongue...
tender words on his lips...words of missing, wanting, needing.
Once in a while he wondered what it was about the dark that
made it easier for Ennis to open up. Wasn't like they
couldn't see each other...wasn't like they couldn't
see into each other’s eyes. But Ennis sure preferred the dark.
Oh, he'd fuck in the daylight. He'd fuck and
more in the day time, bright sun overhead...yessir,
Jack had some fine memories of Ennis in the sun...
rearing up over him, looking down at Jack...or coming
up behind him when he didn't expect it, taking him down...
Those were some no-doubt-about-it hot fucking thoughts
that got him through some cold, lonely nights. And
this was shaping up to be one of their best trips yet.
And the talking, the words that Jack loved to hear...
in the dark Ennis, driven by a passion he rarely felt,
would open up effortlessly, and Jack savored every word...
knew he'd probably never hear what he wanted to most,
but what Ennis gave in the dark was enough...most of the time,
when they were together it was enough...long nights in
Childress, though...that was a different story.
Well, what the fuck can you do? Can't have everything...
4/22/72, Day
One day in and already Ennis had a feeling about this trip…like it was going to
be the best one yet.
They had saddled up and were riding a trail that snaked unevenly up and around
the mountain…as it narrowed the horses picked their way carefully along the stony
soil, until the path widened and flattened, trees falling away, the land open and even
again.
No doubt about it, he had missed Jack more than he even thought possible…the times
between without him were getting harder and harder to stand. He never consciously
thought about it, was blindsided with harshest longing in the middle of the most
routine task: saddling his horse, eating lunch in the bunkhouse with the other hands,
talking to his kids…suddenly his mind would register some forgotten word, phrase,
touch…his stomach would knot, his eyes would close, bringing the memory into sharp
relief, the pain was undeniable.
It took Ennis longer and longer to recover from these waking dreams…why he was
so damn happy to see Jack this time, when he’d finally got his hands on him at the
trailhead, didn’t want to let him go.
They turned the horses to leave the trail, and headed towards a meadow as the
wind picked up and blew the grass flat.
Suddenly Ennis, with a grin on his face, looked over at Jack, picked up his reins,
whistled shrilly through his teeth, dug his heels into his horse and yelled, “Let’s go!”
The freedom was beyond words, didn’t need words…wind making his eyes tear,
thunder of the horses’ hooves, day a perfect mix of sun and clouds…and Jack
right next to him, riding hell bent for leather. They tore across the meadow,
one weaving right, the other left, cutting ahead of each other, whooping and
yelling like savages…there was only here and now, and for a time he was happy.
The exhilaration of their wild ride followed them back to camp, Ennis affected
even more than Jack…had him up against a tree, fumbling at his belt, his shirt,
unable to get his hands to do his bidding, trying and failing to get at skin, until
Jack took over, stripped, and finally pulled Ennis down on top of him…Ennis
took it from there.
4/22/72, Evening
Ennis, for once, was too tired to grill the steaks, so Jack took up the task.
After they ate, Jack lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in a forceful stream,
took a drink from the bottle of Jack Daniels, passed it to Ennis, “One a the better
days we had, doncha think?”
Ennis was already lying down, head propped on a blanket against a log, legs
stretched out, boots off, crushing out the cigarette he’d lit after dinner;
he took the bottle from Jack and drank, “Know it was good for me…decent
steak and two good rides.” He looked sideways at Jack, “Maybe, you up
to it, make it three before the night’s out.”
Turned out those were Ennis’s last words of the night. He fell asleep holding
the bottle, which tilted away from him as his grip on it relaxed. Jack sat
across from him smoking and thinking, and unlike Ennis’s thoughts, his
turned not backward to other good times, but forward to times he hoped
would come to be.
He leaned over to take the bottle from Ennis’s fingers, seeing, in his mind’s
eye, this very thing happening on a place of their own……Ennis falling
asleep after supper, too tired to go inside to bed…but in Jack’s mind, there
was a bed to go to…and that bed was filled, not only with all the pleasures
they both desired, but the intimate warmth and security, the comfort and
caring that they both lacked in their everyday lives.
Jack took another drink and stirred the fire, indulging in pleasant
thoughts of what still might come to be…you never know.
4/23/72, Morning
Ennis kicked the bottom of Jack’s foot as it stuck out of the tent.
“Food’s up, boy.” And he walked back to the fire and crouched down,
turning the eggs one last time, scalding his fingers as he plucked the
biscuits from the pan, and blowing on them as he quickly tossed them
onto a plate.
Jack had brought so much food this time, food that Ennis rarely saw.
The usual eggs and bacon of course (Wyoming bacon was better than
what Jack brought, but no mind), but the thick, strong coffee he loved,
store-bought biscuits that tasted better than Alma’s, slabs of venison
and buffalo meat that did not go amiss at breakfast. Ennis was already
starting to unbutton the top of his jeans after a meal, not for the usual
reason.
Jack came out of the tent half awake, rubbing his eyes, wearing only jeans.
But the smell of what was coming from the campfire raised his senses,
and he sat on a flat boulder near the fire and started to fill his plate.
Ennis sat across from him in a camp chair and poured a cup of coffee,
lit a cigarette, looked towards the sky, “Clouds comin in, no day for
ridin, already staked the horses. Reckon we could fish some, but
we got more food’n we need already.” Sly smile as he looked over
at Jack, “Any ideas?”
Jack, mouth full, only nodded.
4/24/72
Gallatin River
“You still got work regular?” They had ridden down the mountain this time,
picking up paths traveled by few before them, so overgrown that they
had to ride nose to tail. One trail had gotten so thick they’d had to
turn back and try another, and as they emerged from the woods
they followed the river for a time as it led them under spruce and
cottonwood trees, fir and aspen.
After riding for some time, they rounded a bend and came on a small
waterfall, first one in all their time on the trails. They pulled up and
staked the horses, and sat on large boulders and each lit a cigarette.
“Most times. Slows down some, so I pick up on the road crew, whatever’s
there. How you like sellin them – what’s he sell? – combines? Balers?”
“Both. Sell whatever a farm uses. Beats ridin bulls……ain’t like havin
my own place, though. Still want that.”
He fell silent as he tried to sense Ennis’s mood. This trip was going better
than he expected, Ennis open and talking. That ride they’d had yesterday
– both acting like kids – something he hadn’t felt in so long, so fucking
long...and after, Ennis had been almost frantic to get at Jack, feverish and
grasping, as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough.
“Place comin up for sale near Worland, old man told me about it.
Fifteen hundred acres, ‘bout five hundred head – Black Angus - all set up,
just needs new owners.” He didn’t look away from Ennis as he said it.
It wasn’t anything Ennis wanted to get into, but his good mood and
relative contentment at being with Jack…being with Jack in the place
he, they both, loved most, in the mountains, with lake and river and
new found waterfall, with woods and high air, sun, clouds, blue sky,
spring breeze at his back, and away from the rest of the world who
didn’t give a damn about him…it wasn’t anything he wanted to get
into, but he would this time…go as far as he could.
“Big place, five hundred head.”
“We could handle it.” Spurred on by Ennis’s short but neutral, not
negative, answer, Jack got up and started pacing, finally putting
words to ideas that had gathered dust in his head over the years
as he had thought time and again of a way to make it work, anxious
to put things in a positive light, to show Ennis that they could
do it. He spent his days talking men into buying things they didn’t
know they needed, didn’t think they could afford, until they talked to him.
He was unaware that he was grinning as he walked and talked,
euphoric in his enthusiasm to present a perfect scenario to an
unwilling client.
“Ennis, I got it all worked out on paper, we could do it. I been puttin
money away, got enough for a down payment and with what LD
would give me to go…”
“Jack.”
“He’ll give me, shit, I don’t know how much, but a lot, more’n
enough to make a go a that place…”
“Jack.” Ennis had gotten up and walked over to Jack as he paced,
and as Jack took in the look on Ennis’s face, his smile faded…he
looked at the ground, then back up at Ennis.
Jack walked to his horse, “Let’s get back to camp.”
The ride back was in total contrast to their joyful journey of the day
before, but Ennis was intent on not letting anything ruin this trip,
he had waited too long, would have to wait too long for the next one.
Once in camp, Jack sat and smoked, got up for a bottle, cracked the
seal and drank deep, didn’t offer it to Ennis. His mood had darkened,
and at that moment, he didn’t much care what Ennis did.
Ennis let him be. He took care of the horses, got the fire going, pulled
some venison from the grub box, peeled potatoes, then turned to Jack
and said, “I’m goin down to the river, get washed up, you comin?”
Jack was still pissed that his offer had been turned down again, and said
nothing, so Ennis walked over to where he was lying against a log, hat
down over his face, and said again, “You comin with me?”
He started to turn and go alone when Jack pulled himself up and followed.
Once on the bank they stripped and walked slowly into the frigid running
river, crouching down and cupping the icy water in their hands and
rubbing it over their bodies as fast as they could.
“Shit, I’m clean enough!” Ennis turned and scrambled out of the water
and grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his shoulders, then rubbed it
briskly over his body and tossed a towel to Jack as he sprinted up the
bank. Both relatively dry, they lay on the towels next to each other,
trying to warm up in the waning sunshine.
He had to try one more time.
“Ennis…”
“Jack. I can’t.”
To soften the blow, he turned onto his side and drew Jack to him, held
him close. They stayed that way, close and connected, but heat rising,
and when Jack rolled him over, Ennis didn’t pull away.
The Last Night
Jack stirred the embers with a stick, flame shot up then
back down, flickered feebly...he tossed more wood chunks on.
It was past midnight, quarter moon high.
“Almost May and still cold as a witch's tit up here.”
He crawled on his hands and knees the few feet to Ennis,
shoved his legs apart, turned and settled back against his
chest...Ennis's arm around his waist pulled him closer
still...Jack smiling as he felt Ennis's lips in his
hair...then the smile left his face...he closed his eyes
and willed time to stand still...wanting to remember everything.
“Do you?”
“Oh, for crissake...do I what?” Knowing. His tone was rough,
direct contrast to his fingers stroking Jack's arm.
The spell wasn't broken.
“Had a good time, didn't we? One of the best.” This from Jack.
“Yeah, we did...noticed you quit your bitchin' this time...hardly
any at all.”
“Nothin' to bitch about for a change...you were less of a pain
in the ass than usual.”
“Yeah, well...you mighta had somethin' to do with that...”
There were only night sounds, mixed with their slow, even breathing
as they tried to hold back the night from moving on toward morning.
“So...do you?”
“Next time we'll be in a fuckin' cabin...first class...
well, compared to the ground...good thing, too...be cold
up here in October.”
They lay like that in their comfortable silence, bodies touching,
thoughts apart.
“So...do..?”
Ennis drew a lungful of air and tilted his head back,
yelled at the sky, “Jesus Christ, Jack!”
Then head back down, cheek against Jack's hair, soft,
“What do you want from me?”
“Ennis.”
“Yeah...Yeah! I do…..all right?”
Close enough.
April 29, 1972
So he had gotten turned down again. That was the one moment in
an otherwise idyllic two weeks that prevented it from being perfect…but
they hadn’t had a perfect trip yet, something or other always came up.
He knew Ennis had gone out of his way for the rest of the trip to make
things good for Jack, doing little things trying to show that he was doing
the best he could. Jack wasn’t sure if he really was doing the best
he could. He remembered the story Ennis had told him the first time he’d
brought up the cow and calf operation, knew it must have been bad,
knew Ennis was scared. But he’d never completely understand Ennis’s
staunch refusal to even consider Jack’s ideas.
Still, driving back to Childress after nine near-perfect days, Jack was
momentarily happy, and already planning ahead.
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Date: 2012-04-30 01:43 am (UTC)A nice peak into one of the happier fishing trips. It's so sad to see Jack's hope and spirit be crushed down a little at a time. Almost make you wish Jack would have just quit Ennis was he was turned away after the divorce. Perhaps Jack would have moved on to have a somewhat happier life.