Five Things Challenge Entry- Brokeback Drabbles
FIVE TIMES ENNIS KNEW BROKEBACK GOT HIM GOOD
1. Second Summer
He’d told Jack that he wasn’t going back to herd sheep on Brokeback for a second summer. Jack wouldn’t be expecting him.
Not if he was smart.
Jack was smart, way smarter than Ennis. He could go on about all kinds of things, politics and science and books. Maybe half of it was bullshit, because Jack definitely had a talent for bullshit, but still…
Jack knew things.
Anyway, no question of going up to Brokeback. He and Alma were married, a baby on the way. No time for could-have -beens.
He wasn’t going back to Brokeback, and that was final.
But he wished he could.
2. The Postcard
Ennis wasn’t a naturally good liar, although he’d gotten pretty good at lying to Alma over the years.
“You’re happy, ain’t you, Ennis? You love me and the girls?”
“Course I do,” he’d answer, his voice gruff and a bit impatient.
And he did love them. But he knew he was lying, pretending to be a happy husband and father when all he dreamed of was blue eyes and a strong body moving against him.
Something always nagging at him, something always at the back of his mind. Something he needed and wasn’t ever going to have again.
But then the postcard came, and his heart leapt. And the casual lies fell off his lips.
“Fishin’ buddy,” like it was no big deal.
It was hard to keep his face schooled when he said that. Because he wanted to jump and shout.
He was going to see Jack again. It was the best gift he’d ever been given.
3. Stick With What We Got
He lived for the times he got away with Jack, every few months if he was lucky.
Alma didn’t like it none, and he’d gotten fired from jobs for taking off without notice. But one minimum wage ranch job was much the same as another, and he was always able to find another one without too much trouble.
Jack never brought it up again after that first time, his pie in the sky dream of a cow and calf operation. He’d told him firmly, “It ain’t gonna be like that,” and Jack had accepted it.
Jack liked to bitch about anything and everything, but when push came to shove he wasn’t a whiner. He could accept hard truths and deal with them.
But he knew Jack still had hopes, and he hated seeing that hope in Jack’s eyes, knowing that sooner or later it would disappear.
He lived with the bitter reality that the summer on Brokeback had been a golden time, and that they would never have it again.
Every time he remembered having to crush Jack’s dream, he felt sick. And he remembered it every damn morning.
4. Thanksgiving, Midnight
Ennis lost three days of work after that disastrous Thanksgiving at Alma’s. He’d had cuts and bruises, a black eye, two ribs that had to be taped, and a hand that had been stomped on but not broken. Something to be thankful for, Ennis guessed, although he hadn’t felt very thankful.
He’d crawled to the curb when they were done with him, and when Bill Donigan had seen him from his cruiser, he’d stopped and taken him to the ER, over Ennis’s protests.
The doc had patched him up, but had been unimpressed with Ennis’s situation, telling him “You’re getting too old for this shit, boy.”
Ennis knew that. They’d roughed him up good.
But he also had this nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that on some level he deserved to be beat up. That he craved the feeling of another man’s hands on his body, even if it was only to hold him down while he got the stuffing kicked out of him.
That didn’t bear thinking about too much, so he pushed it away.
It was midnight when he walked stiffly out of the ER, like an old man.
He wondered when he’d be able to meet up with Jack again.
5. Almost Christmas
Jack had been gone for more than three years now, and Ennis was keeping his head down and scraping by, like he always did.
He had his memories, and sometimes Jack visited him in his dreams.
His second grandchild was on the way, and Junior seemed real happy. Jenny, too. She was about to get married, pairing up the way the young people did.
The way he had done, because he hadn’t been able to take what he really wanted.
He was in town, buying cigarettes and beer and lunch meat. He didn’t eat good, and he knew his health wasn’t that great. On the rare occasions he saw a doctor, he got lectures about how he was working himself into an early grave with the drinking and the smokes and the hard work.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
A little boy, maybe six years old, was in the store with his father. His father was chewing him out for something, asking him if he was ever gonna do anything right, and the boy’s shoulders slumped as the tirade went on. Finally the father said, “I’m going out to the car. You stay right there.”
A small voice answered, “Yessir.”
It was none of his business, but as he walked past, the child looked up at him, tears on his lashes, eyes as blue as Jack’s. He paused, looking down at the woebegone little face, and he remembered Jack telling him how mean his daddy had been, how he had always told him that he was no good, even pissed on him.
His Jack had been so brave, he’d risen above that, and had always been hopeful, and loving, no matter what his bitter old man had thought.
But not every child had what Jack had.
“What’s your name, son?” he asked.
“Danny, sir.”
“Having some trouble with your dad?”
The boy nodded.
Ennis had nothing to give him to cheer him up, and he knew better than to offer something to a child he didn’t know anyway. So he tried to come up with words, never his strong suit. He could see the father crossing the street to reenter the store, so he had to hurry.
“Danny, you seem like a real good boy. You just remember, when you grow up you can be your own man. No one can tell you how to live your life, you hear me? Not your daddy, and not anyone else.”
Danny nodded, and Ennis smiled at him. The child smiled back, and Ennis went to the counter to pay for his small bag of staples.
He hoped that Jack would be proud of him.