I'll Be Seeing You
Chapter 50: Untimely Harvest
A Brokeback a/u diverging from the original story at the time of Ennis’s divorce.
Rated: R for language, adult themes.
Disclaimer: I have borrowed these characters from Annie Proulx and the fine actors that portrayed them on screen.
My warmest thanks to Jean
:I: :I: :I: :I: :I: :I:
All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are
Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper
We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Blue Oyster Cult, “Don’t Fear the Reaper”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Jack!” Sarah said in surprise. “Whut’re ya doin’ in here?”
Jack got up from Bobby’s exercise bench as Sarah flipped on the lights in the converted garage. “Just thinkin’, Mama.”
“Would it int’rest ya t’ know that Ennis is lookin’ for ya?”
“He couldn’t a been in too awful big a hurry, or he wouldn’t have no trouble findin’ me on his own,” Jack said.
“He knows where ya are, son. He’s just givin’ ya the time ya said ya wanted. Real considerate man, that Ennis Del Mar.”
“Mama,” Jack sighed.
“Jack, you’re my only child, and God knows I love ya more than a body should love anything but our Lord, but I cain’t stay out a this. I cain’t watch ya throw away somethin’ ya need out a foolish pride. I ain’t never gonna understand why ya want a man, but that bein’ so,” Sarah took a deep breath. “I can understand why ya want this one. If ya love ‘im, Jack, don’t let ‘im slip away.”
“It ain’t that easy. I used t’ think that if I could just have Ennis back my life’d be just like it was on… The way it was when I first fell in love.”
“Nuthin’ stands still,” Sarah said, cupping his cheek on her palm. “We all change, Jack. Ya just got a make some kind a peace with that.”
“I don’t want a be a big baby, but I…” Jack’s voice snagged on the next words, and they came out in a rush. “I just want ‘im t’ know how bad he hurts me sometimes. I don’t know if he knows how bad it hurts.”
“He knows,” Sarah said, putting her arms around the man that would always be her little boy. “But hearin’ me say it don’t change nuthin’. Go talk to ‘im.”
“He ain’t exactly breakin’ down the door.”
“Ya know who ya sound like, don’t ya?”
Jack bit his lip, willing back the tears that stung his eyelids. “Thanks, Mama. I sure don’t want a turn out t’ be as sour as Daddy was. Reckon I can see how a man could get so… beat down that he didn’t trust nobody or nuthin’ not t’ disappoint ‘im. I swear I feel sorry for ‘im. Bein’ so nasty t’ everybody ‘til the only folks that’d talk to ‘im were men just like ‘im.”
“Don’t ya be like that, ya hear?” Sarah said, letting go of Jack. “That man a yours is wearin’ a path in the rug I just vacuumed. Why don’t ya git ‘im out a the house?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jack bent to kiss his mother’s forehead. “This ain’t gonna be any fun.”
“Oh, I expect you ‘n Ennis have your share a fun along with the rest of it,” Sarah said, as she moved to let Jack through the door.
Jack felt his cheeks grow warm, and ignored the comment. Surely, Mama didn’t mean what he thought she meant. “He’s ashamed a me,” he blurted out.
“Why on earth would ya think that?”
Unable to tell her that it was because he took it in the ass, Jack shrugged. “That’s whut I’m gonna find out, I reckon.”
“Good luck, son.”
Jack walked through the living room, gesturing to Ennis as he headed for the front door. “Come on,” he invited. “Let’s go t’ town.”
“Jack,” Ennis held up the shirts.
“Bring ‘em,” Jack said. “We got some talkin’ t’ do, and I’d rather do it lookin’ through the windshield. All right?”
“Fine by me,” Ennis said, following Jack out to the driveway. He waited until they were turning onto the hard road before he spoke again. “Ya stole my shirt,” he said.
Jack’s lips twitched, and drew back in a grin. “Ya got a teach me how t’ do that,” he said.
“Whut?”
“Don’t matter how mad I am, you can make me laugh, and make me forgit why I’m mad. If I’m weak, it’s ‘cause I love ya.”
“Weak? You ain’t weak.”
“I’m weak enough t’ fuck other guys.”
Ennis winced. “Well, that’s… shit, Jack, can ya not say it like that?”
“Whut should I say?” Jack realized he was pressing harder on the gas pedal, and eased up a little. “We wasn’t makin’ love.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t like it.”
“Ennis,” Jack let the truck coast down the slight incline. “How come ya never tried sex with another man? Didn’t ya ever wonder whut it was like with somebody else?”
“I wondered, but I never done nuthin’ ‘bout it. I kept that part a myself for you.”
“Why? Did ya think all along we was gonna git back together?”
“I knew… I knew we should be together.”
“Well, it sure as hell would a been nice if you’d a let me in on it a little sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t gone with any a those guys. Maybe a fuckuva lot a bad things wouldn’t a happened. Ya ever think a that?”
Ennis’s grip tightened on the soft folds of the old shirts. “I wish I’d a done things diff’rent,” he said. “I cain’t change the past, Jack. All I can do is love ya the best I can now.”
“And whut about Randall? Am I gonna have to watch how close I stand to ‘im?”
“I wish ya would.”
“Why? Cause I might just fall over backward with my legs in the air yellin’ come ‘n git it?”
“Jack, don’t…”
“Don’t whut? Don’t talk like a whore? A queer whore?”
“Jack.” Ennis twisted the shirts in his fists.
“Why cain’t ya just admit that ya think there’s somethin’ nasty ‘bout me? I don’t mind that ya like doin’ the ridin’, and ya sure can ride, but it hurts like hell that ya think I cain’t keep my knees together. Yeah, I want a man that makes me feel like I’m his, but he’s got a know that he belongs t’ me, too. I sure wouldn’t take it kindly if you was t’ git a girlfriend.”
“That ain’t…” Ennis stopped in mid-sentence. “Lemme think.”
Jack looked over in surprise. “All right,” he said, facing front again. “Take your time. Looks like a lady in trouble up ahead.”
Ennis nodded, as Jack eased onto the shoulder. “Flat tire,” he said, as the trim blonde in Jackie O style sunglasses turned to see who was coming up behind her. “Why don’t ya let me handle it? Just take a couple a minutes, and I think better when I’m doin’ somethin’.”
Jack shrugged and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the dash. Ennis got out and walked toward the cream colored Chevy Impala. The woman gave him a tentative smile as he stopped beside the back bumper. “Need a hand, ma’am?”
“Thank you,” the blonde said in softly accented English. “I’m no good at this.”
Ennis silently agreed as he saw where she’d placed the jack. He moved it farther down the frame and had a look at the tire. “It’s sure enough flat,” he said. “Ya got a spare?”
She nodded, and walked with Ennis around to the trunk. As he pulled out the tire, the woman picked up the lug wrench lying next to it.
“Thanks,” Ennis said, as he moved around the rear fender.
Jack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and watched Ennis work. He was enjoying a view of Ennis leaning into the trunk, when something about the lady struck him as familiar. It was hard to tell what she looked like under all that feathered hair and those big dark shades, but he knew the shape of her mouth, those full, pouting lips that turned down at the corners and looked as lush as the skin of a plum. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, dropping his cigarette, as he scrabbled at the door handle.
“This here spare ain’t got enough air in it,” Ennis said, bouncing the tire on the asphalt. “We should prob’ly…” He heard Jack shout and spun around as the tire iron descended, wielded by a hand with red-polished nails. Instead of crushing Ennis’s skull, the length of metal came down on his left shoulder, breaking his collarbone and driving him to his knees.
“No!” Jack screamed as he forward at a dead run.
Ennis threw up a hand as the iron fell again, cracking the bones of his forearm. The blonde drew back for another vicious blow as Jack reached them and slammed into her. The lug wrench struck Ennis’s temple with diminished impact and flew out the woman’s hand. She hit the side of the car and bounced off as a man emerged from the back seat, holding a gun.
“Don’t move,” the gunman said, pointing his weapon at Jack.
“Fuck you,” Jack said, kneeling beside Ennis.
“Oh, I think he plans to, guapo,” the blonde said, as the man brought the butt of the pistol down on the back of Jack’s skull.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Just put him right here, Rafael; he’s heavy.”
“Sure, chica. Looks like he’s coming around anyway. Hey, Senor Jack. Did you miss us?”
Jack looked blearily around and recognized the room. He’d walked through here just fifteen or so minutes ago. The couch he was lying on was cowhide patterned Ultrasuede and one of Lureen’s favorite pieces of furniture. She sure would be pissed if he puked all over it, but that’s exactly what he felt like doing.
“Chingate!” the blonde cursed. “He’s gonna be sick, Rafael.”
“Some things don’t change,” Rafael said. “You gonna be sick, hombre?”
“Where’s Ennis?” Jack groaned, as he sat up.
“You don’t see us in years and that’s all you have to say?”
“Take that fuckin’ wig off, Mingo. That suit ya better?”
“Hit him again,” Domingo Cruz said.
“Whut in hell’re the two a ya doin’ here?” Jack asked. “They runnin’ all the pimps and whores out a Mexico?”
“Si,” Mingo said, leaning close. “And they started with you, Senor Jack.”
“Where’s Ennis?” Jack repeated, standing up, and nearly knocking Mingo over.
“Sit down,” Rafael Madera ordered, leveling his gun at Jack’s forehead.
“Either shoot me, or git the fuck out a my way,” Jack said. “Ya interrupted an important conversation and I’m anxious t’ finish it.”
“You talking about that big gringo that was with you?” Mingo said. “I don’t think he’ll be doing much talking, guapo.”
Jack glared at the cross-dressing prostitute. “Don’t sweet talk me,” he said. “Just tell me where Ennis is.”
“We’re gonna do whatever we want,” Mingo said. “Isn’t that right, Rafael?”
“That’s right, mi corazon negra. In the old days, we did what Senor Jack wanted, but this is not the old days. This is the new days, and we’re the ones with the money.”
“Then whut in the hell do ya want with me?
“Well, you can never have too much dinero,” Mingo fluttered his false eyelashes. “It pays for so many nice things,” he added, thrusting out his enhanced chest.
“Quiet for a minute,” Rafael said. “I don’t see anybody else in the house, Jack. Is there anybody else in the house?”
“Like your wife maybe?” Mingo sneered.
“That wig makes ya look cheap,” Jack replied.
Rafael put out his arm, holding Mingo back. “Not yet, mi paloma,” he said. “I want to talk to Senor Jack first. Then it’s your turn.”
“How’d ya find me?” Jack said, before Rafael could speak again.
“You know a gringo named Rally Close?” the pimp grinned. “He came to someone I know looking for a fake passport. There are some heavy drug bosses offering money for an example to be made of you. I… persuaded Rally to tell me some things about you. With Mingo’s help, of course. And here we are.”
“The hell with this,” Jack said. “I’m goin’ t’ find Ennis. Git out a my way.”
“Just tell him, Raf,” Mingo said, fixing his inky gaze on Jack’s face.
“That Ennis guy, he’s in the trunk of the Impala,” the pimp said. “Don’t worry about him having enough air. He don’t need any.”
Jack swallowed hard and a wave of heat flashed through him, boiling his blood as his stomach simultaneously turned to ice. He didn’t know how he felt; the emotion was too complex to be described with something as inadequate as words, and too big to be contained by something as frail as flesh. With a shout of rage, Jack lunged, knocking the revolver from Rafael’s hand and taking them both to the floor. Mingo stepped into the fray, kicking at Jack’s ribs with the pointed toes of his pumps, as the two men rolled across the rug.
“The gun, idiota!” the pimp snarled, as Jack got a hand around his throat.
“Merde!” Mingo cursed, as he looked around for the pistol.
“Ya sonuvabitch.” Jack butted his forehead into Rafael’s nose, stunning the other man. He got to his feet as Mingo put his hand on the butt of the revolver. “Leave it,” Jack said.
Mingo laughed, the wild, devil may care laugh that Jack remembered all too well. Jack hadn’t been sure that Rafael would shoot him in cold blood; he had no such illusions about Mingo. If Mingo turned the gun on him, he was dead. Ducking low, Jack ran from the room.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>
“Shhh, easy there, gal,” Sarah whispered. “I just need a place t’ hide for a few minutes.” Putting the cordless phone up to her ear, she pressed the redial button. When the phone was picked up on the other end, Sarah relayed what she had seen. After listening for several minutes, she said goodbye and hung up.
Lureen’s bay mare stood patiently as Sarah put a bridle on her, threw a blanket over her back and used the side of the stall to climb on. The highly trained animal walked docilely out the back of the barn and into field beyond. With a look over her shoulder, Sarah urged the horse to a trot. “I ain’t been on horseback since before Jack was born,” she told the mare. “Don’t let me fall off.”
Following the directions she’d been given on the phone, Sarah pointed the horse’s head north. She didn’t want to leave Jack with those people, but she didn’t want to be in the way either. If Lureen had allowed a firearm in the house, Sarah would have used it, but she would have to trust in Jack’s friend.
tbc
A Brokeback a/u diverging from the original story at the time of Ennis’s divorce.
Rated: R for language, adult themes.
Disclaimer: I have borrowed these characters from Annie Proulx and the fine actors that portrayed them on screen.
My warmest thanks to Jean
:I: :I: :I: :I: :I: :I:
All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are
Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper
We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Blue Oyster Cult, “Don’t Fear the Reaper”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Jack!” Sarah said in surprise. “Whut’re ya doin’ in here?”
Jack got up from Bobby’s exercise bench as Sarah flipped on the lights in the converted garage. “Just thinkin’, Mama.”
“Would it int’rest ya t’ know that Ennis is lookin’ for ya?”
“He couldn’t a been in too awful big a hurry, or he wouldn’t have no trouble findin’ me on his own,” Jack said.
“He knows where ya are, son. He’s just givin’ ya the time ya said ya wanted. Real considerate man, that Ennis Del Mar.”
“Mama,” Jack sighed.
“Jack, you’re my only child, and God knows I love ya more than a body should love anything but our Lord, but I cain’t stay out a this. I cain’t watch ya throw away somethin’ ya need out a foolish pride. I ain’t never gonna understand why ya want a man, but that bein’ so,” Sarah took a deep breath. “I can understand why ya want this one. If ya love ‘im, Jack, don’t let ‘im slip away.”
“It ain’t that easy. I used t’ think that if I could just have Ennis back my life’d be just like it was on… The way it was when I first fell in love.”
“Nuthin’ stands still,” Sarah said, cupping his cheek on her palm. “We all change, Jack. Ya just got a make some kind a peace with that.”
“I don’t want a be a big baby, but I…” Jack’s voice snagged on the next words, and they came out in a rush. “I just want ‘im t’ know how bad he hurts me sometimes. I don’t know if he knows how bad it hurts.”
“He knows,” Sarah said, putting her arms around the man that would always be her little boy. “But hearin’ me say it don’t change nuthin’. Go talk to ‘im.”
“He ain’t exactly breakin’ down the door.”
“Ya know who ya sound like, don’t ya?”
Jack bit his lip, willing back the tears that stung his eyelids. “Thanks, Mama. I sure don’t want a turn out t’ be as sour as Daddy was. Reckon I can see how a man could get so… beat down that he didn’t trust nobody or nuthin’ not t’ disappoint ‘im. I swear I feel sorry for ‘im. Bein’ so nasty t’ everybody ‘til the only folks that’d talk to ‘im were men just like ‘im.”
“Don’t ya be like that, ya hear?” Sarah said, letting go of Jack. “That man a yours is wearin’ a path in the rug I just vacuumed. Why don’t ya git ‘im out a the house?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jack bent to kiss his mother’s forehead. “This ain’t gonna be any fun.”
“Oh, I expect you ‘n Ennis have your share a fun along with the rest of it,” Sarah said, as she moved to let Jack through the door.
Jack felt his cheeks grow warm, and ignored the comment. Surely, Mama didn’t mean what he thought she meant. “He’s ashamed a me,” he blurted out.
“Why on earth would ya think that?”
Unable to tell her that it was because he took it in the ass, Jack shrugged. “That’s whut I’m gonna find out, I reckon.”
“Good luck, son.”
Jack walked through the living room, gesturing to Ennis as he headed for the front door. “Come on,” he invited. “Let’s go t’ town.”
“Jack,” Ennis held up the shirts.
“Bring ‘em,” Jack said. “We got some talkin’ t’ do, and I’d rather do it lookin’ through the windshield. All right?”
“Fine by me,” Ennis said, following Jack out to the driveway. He waited until they were turning onto the hard road before he spoke again. “Ya stole my shirt,” he said.
Jack’s lips twitched, and drew back in a grin. “Ya got a teach me how t’ do that,” he said.
“Whut?”
“Don’t matter how mad I am, you can make me laugh, and make me forgit why I’m mad. If I’m weak, it’s ‘cause I love ya.”
“Weak? You ain’t weak.”
“I’m weak enough t’ fuck other guys.”
Ennis winced. “Well, that’s… shit, Jack, can ya not say it like that?”
“Whut should I say?” Jack realized he was pressing harder on the gas pedal, and eased up a little. “We wasn’t makin’ love.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t like it.”
“Ennis,” Jack let the truck coast down the slight incline. “How come ya never tried sex with another man? Didn’t ya ever wonder whut it was like with somebody else?”
“I wondered, but I never done nuthin’ ‘bout it. I kept that part a myself for you.”
“Why? Did ya think all along we was gonna git back together?”
“I knew… I knew we should be together.”
“Well, it sure as hell would a been nice if you’d a let me in on it a little sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t gone with any a those guys. Maybe a fuckuva lot a bad things wouldn’t a happened. Ya ever think a that?”
Ennis’s grip tightened on the soft folds of the old shirts. “I wish I’d a done things diff’rent,” he said. “I cain’t change the past, Jack. All I can do is love ya the best I can now.”
“And whut about Randall? Am I gonna have to watch how close I stand to ‘im?”
“I wish ya would.”
“Why? Cause I might just fall over backward with my legs in the air yellin’ come ‘n git it?”
“Jack, don’t…”
“Don’t whut? Don’t talk like a whore? A queer whore?”
“Jack.” Ennis twisted the shirts in his fists.
“Why cain’t ya just admit that ya think there’s somethin’ nasty ‘bout me? I don’t mind that ya like doin’ the ridin’, and ya sure can ride, but it hurts like hell that ya think I cain’t keep my knees together. Yeah, I want a man that makes me feel like I’m his, but he’s got a know that he belongs t’ me, too. I sure wouldn’t take it kindly if you was t’ git a girlfriend.”
“That ain’t…” Ennis stopped in mid-sentence. “Lemme think.”
Jack looked over in surprise. “All right,” he said, facing front again. “Take your time. Looks like a lady in trouble up ahead.”
Ennis nodded, as Jack eased onto the shoulder. “Flat tire,” he said, as the trim blonde in Jackie O style sunglasses turned to see who was coming up behind her. “Why don’t ya let me handle it? Just take a couple a minutes, and I think better when I’m doin’ somethin’.”
Jack shrugged and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the dash. Ennis got out and walked toward the cream colored Chevy Impala. The woman gave him a tentative smile as he stopped beside the back bumper. “Need a hand, ma’am?”
“Thank you,” the blonde said in softly accented English. “I’m no good at this.”
Ennis silently agreed as he saw where she’d placed the jack. He moved it farther down the frame and had a look at the tire. “It’s sure enough flat,” he said. “Ya got a spare?”
She nodded, and walked with Ennis around to the trunk. As he pulled out the tire, the woman picked up the lug wrench lying next to it.
“Thanks,” Ennis said, as he moved around the rear fender.
Jack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and watched Ennis work. He was enjoying a view of Ennis leaning into the trunk, when something about the lady struck him as familiar. It was hard to tell what she looked like under all that feathered hair and those big dark shades, but he knew the shape of her mouth, those full, pouting lips that turned down at the corners and looked as lush as the skin of a plum. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, dropping his cigarette, as he scrabbled at the door handle.
“This here spare ain’t got enough air in it,” Ennis said, bouncing the tire on the asphalt. “We should prob’ly…” He heard Jack shout and spun around as the tire iron descended, wielded by a hand with red-polished nails. Instead of crushing Ennis’s skull, the length of metal came down on his left shoulder, breaking his collarbone and driving him to his knees.
“No!” Jack screamed as he forward at a dead run.
Ennis threw up a hand as the iron fell again, cracking the bones of his forearm. The blonde drew back for another vicious blow as Jack reached them and slammed into her. The lug wrench struck Ennis’s temple with diminished impact and flew out the woman’s hand. She hit the side of the car and bounced off as a man emerged from the back seat, holding a gun.
“Don’t move,” the gunman said, pointing his weapon at Jack.
“Fuck you,” Jack said, kneeling beside Ennis.
“Oh, I think he plans to, guapo,” the blonde said, as the man brought the butt of the pistol down on the back of Jack’s skull.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
“Just put him right here, Rafael; he’s heavy.”
“Sure, chica. Looks like he’s coming around anyway. Hey, Senor Jack. Did you miss us?”
Jack looked blearily around and recognized the room. He’d walked through here just fifteen or so minutes ago. The couch he was lying on was cowhide patterned Ultrasuede and one of Lureen’s favorite pieces of furniture. She sure would be pissed if he puked all over it, but that’s exactly what he felt like doing.
“Chingate!” the blonde cursed. “He’s gonna be sick, Rafael.”
“Some things don’t change,” Rafael said. “You gonna be sick, hombre?”
“Where’s Ennis?” Jack groaned, as he sat up.
“You don’t see us in years and that’s all you have to say?”
“Take that fuckin’ wig off, Mingo. That suit ya better?”
“Hit him again,” Domingo Cruz said.
“Whut in hell’re the two a ya doin’ here?” Jack asked. “They runnin’ all the pimps and whores out a Mexico?”
“Si,” Mingo said, leaning close. “And they started with you, Senor Jack.”
“Where’s Ennis?” Jack repeated, standing up, and nearly knocking Mingo over.
“Sit down,” Rafael Madera ordered, leveling his gun at Jack’s forehead.
“Either shoot me, or git the fuck out a my way,” Jack said. “Ya interrupted an important conversation and I’m anxious t’ finish it.”
“You talking about that big gringo that was with you?” Mingo said. “I don’t think he’ll be doing much talking, guapo.”
Jack glared at the cross-dressing prostitute. “Don’t sweet talk me,” he said. “Just tell me where Ennis is.”
“We’re gonna do whatever we want,” Mingo said. “Isn’t that right, Rafael?”
“That’s right, mi corazon negra. In the old days, we did what Senor Jack wanted, but this is not the old days. This is the new days, and we’re the ones with the money.”
“Then whut in the hell do ya want with me?
“Well, you can never have too much dinero,” Mingo fluttered his false eyelashes. “It pays for so many nice things,” he added, thrusting out his enhanced chest.
“Quiet for a minute,” Rafael said. “I don’t see anybody else in the house, Jack. Is there anybody else in the house?”
“Like your wife maybe?” Mingo sneered.
“That wig makes ya look cheap,” Jack replied.
Rafael put out his arm, holding Mingo back. “Not yet, mi paloma,” he said. “I want to talk to Senor Jack first. Then it’s your turn.”
“How’d ya find me?” Jack said, before Rafael could speak again.
“You know a gringo named Rally Close?” the pimp grinned. “He came to someone I know looking for a fake passport. There are some heavy drug bosses offering money for an example to be made of you. I… persuaded Rally to tell me some things about you. With Mingo’s help, of course. And here we are.”
“The hell with this,” Jack said. “I’m goin’ t’ find Ennis. Git out a my way.”
“Just tell him, Raf,” Mingo said, fixing his inky gaze on Jack’s face.
“That Ennis guy, he’s in the trunk of the Impala,” the pimp said. “Don’t worry about him having enough air. He don’t need any.”
Jack swallowed hard and a wave of heat flashed through him, boiling his blood as his stomach simultaneously turned to ice. He didn’t know how he felt; the emotion was too complex to be described with something as inadequate as words, and too big to be contained by something as frail as flesh. With a shout of rage, Jack lunged, knocking the revolver from Rafael’s hand and taking them both to the floor. Mingo stepped into the fray, kicking at Jack’s ribs with the pointed toes of his pumps, as the two men rolled across the rug.
“The gun, idiota!” the pimp snarled, as Jack got a hand around his throat.
“Merde!” Mingo cursed, as he looked around for the pistol.
“Ya sonuvabitch.” Jack butted his forehead into Rafael’s nose, stunning the other man. He got to his feet as Mingo put his hand on the butt of the revolver. “Leave it,” Jack said.
Mingo laughed, the wild, devil may care laugh that Jack remembered all too well. Jack hadn’t been sure that Rafael would shoot him in cold blood; he had no such illusions about Mingo. If Mingo turned the gun on him, he was dead. Ducking low, Jack ran from the room.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>
“Shhh, easy there, gal,” Sarah whispered. “I just need a place t’ hide for a few minutes.” Putting the cordless phone up to her ear, she pressed the redial button. When the phone was picked up on the other end, Sarah relayed what she had seen. After listening for several minutes, she said goodbye and hung up.
Lureen’s bay mare stood patiently as Sarah put a bridle on her, threw a blanket over her back and used the side of the stall to climb on. The highly trained animal walked docilely out the back of the barn and into field beyond. With a look over her shoulder, Sarah urged the horse to a trot. “I ain’t been on horseback since before Jack was born,” she told the mare. “Don’t let me fall off.”
Following the directions she’d been given on the phone, Sarah pointed the horse’s head north. She didn’t want to leave Jack with those people, but she didn’t want to be in the way either. If Lureen had allowed a firearm in the house, Sarah would have used it, but she would have to trust in Jack’s friend.
tbc