A Day in the Life / November 10
Nov. 10th, 2012 10:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrobay1990Title: A Day in the Life / November 10
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrobay1990
Warning:
Genre: canon/1990
Word count: 1000
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
The other dog......
Until the day he died, Ennis would struggle to remember
insignificant bits and pieces of the summer of ‘63
on Brokeback.
What was that dog’s name, the one that had alerted him
to the dead sheep after the first night with Jack?
That dog had got real attached to Jack, followed him
everywhere, always underfoot around the horses.
Jack gave him some damn name that was way too big
for a little dog.
And when exactly had they switched places - he going
back at night to guard the sheep, Jack staying in camp?
Two weeks into it? Three weeks? Not that it made any
difference now. But whenever he happened to remember
some long-forgotten detail of that summer, he felt...what?
Satisfied, maybe. Satisfied that he could finally
remember that time for what it was - his happiest on
earth. Satisfied that he could remember Jack as his
best friend and as his lover.
Christ, what happened to the time? Jack had been gone
almost 19 years now. Sometimes he could close his eyes,
go back in time and see things crystal clear - river
rushing by the campsite, the clear sharp outline of
the mountain against glass-blue sky, Jack’s eyes burning
into him. But it was harder for him to remember details
that now, in his later years, seemed so important to him.
The years after Jack’s death had been hard. He couldn’t
stand to look back, and so had forced himself to look
forward. He worked, made sure he stayed busy with the
ranch job, longest he’d ever kept. Wasn’t interested
in being foreman, though the job had been offered.
Stayed by himself, rarely having the inclination to be
with people. Made an exception for the girls, of course,
and now their kids. But he was uncomfortable with people,
even, he had to admit to himself, his own kin. And as
he grew older, he felt more and more at ease with the
memories that he could bring to the surface whenever he
felt the need.
Now ranch life was starting to catch up to him, and he’d
taken to getting up earlier. No more jumping out of bed
and straight to the saddle...took him a good while in
the morning, moving slow and stretching sore muscles,
til he even felt good enough to sit outside with a cup
of coffee, if the day was good. Then drive to the ranch
and start the day.
Winter’s a bitch - chopping ice in all the ponds on the
place so there’s water for the herds, spending every
frigid morning feeding, weaning the spring calves, then
getting them ready to ship.
Spring’s a little easier ‘cause of the weather. Still,
after all the fence mending and barn repairing, there’s
always sorting, weighing, and shipping cattle, burning
pasture, hauling hay and whatever else needs to be done,
including testing the cows and castrating the calves.
He tries not to think of how he shut down Jack’s idea of
their own cow and calf operation...how, if things were
different, they’d be doing all this together, for themselves,
instead of him being a hired hand, and alone. Just wasn’t
possible at the time. Didn’t make it any easier to think on.
It was just starting to get light when he turned the
wheel of the pick-up, headed down the rutted drive
toward the ranch, parked by the barn, got out, slammed
the door, lit a cigarette. Tim Drew, the foreman, was
already coming out of the barn leading his quarter
horse, Ellen B.
“Mariah’s down. Joe’s in there with her now, but I want
you to take a look at her, Ennis. I’ll be out at the
wheat pasture all day, let me know when I get back what
you think”.
Suited Ennis. The day was cold, clear, calm. Wouldn’t
bother him to stay inside for a while. He crushed the
cigarette under his boot, walked down the breezeway past
the tack room, to the next to last stall on the right,
looked in.
“Doubt it’s colic, unless we caught it real early”.
Joe Marshall, 42 years old but with more cattle than
horse experience, already had a halter and lead rope
and was trying to get the 12 year old mare up.
“OK, get her outside and keep her movin‘” Ennis said
unnecessarily, since Joe did know that much.
Ennis followed them outside, watched as Joe walked
Mariah 10 yards, turned, then leaned over, felt the
heat in the mare‘s front leg.
“She’s lame in front.” Joe yelled; Ennis nodded
agreement and headed to the office to call the
vet - standard procedure on the ranch.
Rest of the day passed slow, as they all did.
Vet came, treated Mariah, overcharged as usual, in
Ennis’s opinion.
Another day down.
Driving home he thought he might trailer his horse
up to the mountains on Saturday, get Joe to take
late shift for him. After he ate, he got his old
maps out, spread them on the table, deciding where
he’d want to go. Maybe Clear Lake - nice this time
of year. Ride some old trails, fish, maybe camp
the night.
He hadn’t gone anywhere near the mountains
for a long time after Jack died, couldn’t stand the
thought of being alone up there. Just like for a long
time he didn’t want to remember, couldn’t take the
pain of it. But after Jack had been gone a while,
and it didn’t drag on his heart so bad, he tried to
remember best he could.
One time stood out in his mind: they'd been sitting
near the fire til the moon started slipping down
the sky...cold as hell, smoking and drinking, talking
like brothers. Jack had got up to get another bottle,
came back, stood near Ennis, and he had leaned his head
against Jack's thigh...Jack reached down and put
his hand on the side of Ennis’s face and pressed
it to him. Ennis had closed his eyes, felt his warmth.
Jack...
Opened his eyes, his face wet, looked around. 2:38.
Chief. That's what Jack had called that goddam little dog.
a/n: previously posted in 2009 as "What Came After". I didn't even know when I started this series that there would be a dog in Ennis's life, and it was unplanned to repost this, but it seemed to fit this story so well...and now the dog has a name...and Ennis has a little reminder of the mountain to follow him around...
Author:
morrobay1990Warning:
Genre: canon/1990
Word count: 1000
Disclaimer: They are AP's
♥ Jack
The other dog......
Until the day he died, Ennis would struggle to remember
insignificant bits and pieces of the summer of ‘63
on Brokeback.
What was that dog’s name, the one that had alerted him
to the dead sheep after the first night with Jack?
That dog had got real attached to Jack, followed him
everywhere, always underfoot around the horses.
Jack gave him some damn name that was way too big
for a little dog.
And when exactly had they switched places - he going
back at night to guard the sheep, Jack staying in camp?
Two weeks into it? Three weeks? Not that it made any
difference now. But whenever he happened to remember
some long-forgotten detail of that summer, he felt...what?
Satisfied, maybe. Satisfied that he could finally
remember that time for what it was - his happiest on
earth. Satisfied that he could remember Jack as his
best friend and as his lover.
Christ, what happened to the time? Jack had been gone
almost 19 years now. Sometimes he could close his eyes,
go back in time and see things crystal clear - river
rushing by the campsite, the clear sharp outline of
the mountain against glass-blue sky, Jack’s eyes burning
into him. But it was harder for him to remember details
that now, in his later years, seemed so important to him.
The years after Jack’s death had been hard. He couldn’t
stand to look back, and so had forced himself to look
forward. He worked, made sure he stayed busy with the
ranch job, longest he’d ever kept. Wasn’t interested
in being foreman, though the job had been offered.
Stayed by himself, rarely having the inclination to be
with people. Made an exception for the girls, of course,
and now their kids. But he was uncomfortable with people,
even, he had to admit to himself, his own kin. And as
he grew older, he felt more and more at ease with the
memories that he could bring to the surface whenever he
felt the need.
Now ranch life was starting to catch up to him, and he’d
taken to getting up earlier. No more jumping out of bed
and straight to the saddle...took him a good while in
the morning, moving slow and stretching sore muscles,
til he even felt good enough to sit outside with a cup
of coffee, if the day was good. Then drive to the ranch
and start the day.
Winter’s a bitch - chopping ice in all the ponds on the
place so there’s water for the herds, spending every
frigid morning feeding, weaning the spring calves, then
getting them ready to ship.
Spring’s a little easier ‘cause of the weather. Still,
after all the fence mending and barn repairing, there’s
always sorting, weighing, and shipping cattle, burning
pasture, hauling hay and whatever else needs to be done,
including testing the cows and castrating the calves.
He tries not to think of how he shut down Jack’s idea of
their own cow and calf operation...how, if things were
different, they’d be doing all this together, for themselves,
instead of him being a hired hand, and alone. Just wasn’t
possible at the time. Didn’t make it any easier to think on.
It was just starting to get light when he turned the
wheel of the pick-up, headed down the rutted drive
toward the ranch, parked by the barn, got out, slammed
the door, lit a cigarette. Tim Drew, the foreman, was
already coming out of the barn leading his quarter
horse, Ellen B.
“Mariah’s down. Joe’s in there with her now, but I want
you to take a look at her, Ennis. I’ll be out at the
wheat pasture all day, let me know when I get back what
you think”.
Suited Ennis. The day was cold, clear, calm. Wouldn’t
bother him to stay inside for a while. He crushed the
cigarette under his boot, walked down the breezeway past
the tack room, to the next to last stall on the right,
looked in.
“Doubt it’s colic, unless we caught it real early”.
Joe Marshall, 42 years old but with more cattle than
horse experience, already had a halter and lead rope
and was trying to get the 12 year old mare up.
“OK, get her outside and keep her movin‘” Ennis said
unnecessarily, since Joe did know that much.
Ennis followed them outside, watched as Joe walked
Mariah 10 yards, turned, then leaned over, felt the
heat in the mare‘s front leg.
“She’s lame in front.” Joe yelled; Ennis nodded
agreement and headed to the office to call the
vet - standard procedure on the ranch.
Rest of the day passed slow, as they all did.
Vet came, treated Mariah, overcharged as usual, in
Ennis’s opinion.
Another day down.
Driving home he thought he might trailer his horse
up to the mountains on Saturday, get Joe to take
late shift for him. After he ate, he got his old
maps out, spread them on the table, deciding where
he’d want to go. Maybe Clear Lake - nice this time
of year. Ride some old trails, fish, maybe camp
the night.
He hadn’t gone anywhere near the mountains
for a long time after Jack died, couldn’t stand the
thought of being alone up there. Just like for a long
time he didn’t want to remember, couldn’t take the
pain of it. But after Jack had been gone a while,
and it didn’t drag on his heart so bad, he tried to
remember best he could.
One time stood out in his mind: they'd been sitting
near the fire til the moon started slipping down
the sky...cold as hell, smoking and drinking, talking
like brothers. Jack had got up to get another bottle,
came back, stood near Ennis, and he had leaned his head
against Jack's thigh...Jack reached down and put
his hand on the side of Ennis’s face and pressed
it to him. Ennis had closed his eyes, felt his warmth.
Jack...
Opened his eyes, his face wet, looked around. 2:38.
Chief. That's what Jack had called that goddam little dog.
a/n: previously posted in 2009 as "What Came After". I didn't even know when I started this series that there would be a dog in Ennis's life, and it was unplanned to repost this, but it seemed to fit this story so well...and now the dog has a name...and Ennis has a little reminder of the mountain to follow him around...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-11-10 06:02 pm (UTC)Not a bad choice, if it brought him to a point when he can indeed stand to look back.
Chief. Good name. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-10 06:05 pm (UTC)Brilliant...
thanks
no subject
Date: 2012-11-11 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-11 01:25 pm (UTC)yeah, he doesn't want me to go there, but I can't stay away...good thing he isn't real, I could probably get arrested for stalking!
Life
Date: 2012-11-11 06:22 am (UTC)Re: Life
Date: 2012-11-11 01:26 pm (UTC)thank you
no subject
Date: 2012-11-12 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-12 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 01:53 am (UTC)My favorite one-shot of all time, it lives on my hard-drive.
Always worth a re-read.