Sometimes It Goes the Other Way
Ennis’s boss took off his glove to shake good-bye, said Ennis was a hard worker, never got into fights over the woeful imbalance in the male to female ratio, said he was sorry to see Ennis go. Ennis appreciated that more than the man would ever know, but despite the remoteness and high pay, he couldn’t stay here now, couldn’t stay anywhere unless he could stay there with Jack. Not after last night.
Ennis remembered how he gave Jack a little shake, sayin, hey bud, even if we cain’t go home, we cain’t sleep here. Jack sat up in the bed a the truck and asked why not, with a grin to beat the devil. For no good reason, Ennis said, “Maybe ‘cause my name ain’t Randee,” and Jack answered quick and sharp, “Maybe so.”
“What? You wish I was a girl, Jack? That it?”
“Well, ain’t that what you’re wishin’? Wouldn’t all your problems go away if I had tits?”
That shut Ennis up for so long that Jack waited warily for a sucker punch, figured he’d finally pushed him too hard. When came, it was in the form of words. “You tell me one thing, Jack fuckin Twist. Why’n hell you have ta make such a point a tellin me ‘bout your gal friend, huh?”
Another silence, not too long, but plenty of time to die once or twice before Jack burst out with, “Is your ass that ignorant, Ennis? Then here it is: all my cards. I’m rollin over and hopin I ain’t makin the biggest mistake a my whole sorry life. I done it ‘cause I wanted you ta act jealous. To prove that you love me in spite a yourself.”
“Jack…” Ennis took a breath, reconsidered his words. “It ain’t okay.”
“What ain’t okay? Swear ta God, you’re goin a make me crazy, you mule-headed sonuvabitch. Cain’t you just gimme just one little sign?”
“It ain’t okay that you sleep with women, Jack,” Ennis’s voice cracked wide open, shook precariously. “Put a nail in my heart ever’ time you talk about it.”
Jack’s arms made a circle ‘round Ennis, buoyed him up. “I hated that you was goin a marry Alma, but I was too scared ta say nothin. Figgered if we kept pretendin we wasn’t queer, you wouldn’t get spooked and run off.”
Pain glazed Ennis’s gaze with a sheen of salt water. “Seen what can happen when folks take against some guy ‘cause he’s littler, or slower, or somethin’. Like him bein different makes it okay ta pick on ‘im. Once they start in…”
Jack nodded; this wasn’t news to him. “What’d you see, Ennis?”
“When I was little, I seen the castrated corpse a this old guy name a Earl used ta pick up pop bottles on the side a the road. Used ta hear my daddy yellin at ‘im out the window a the truck whenever he seen ‘im: queer, faggot, ought a get my gun and blow your pecker off. Reckon somebody finally did. My daddy, or one a his crowd.”
“Jesus, Ennis!” Jack saw clearly now how deep the chasm was that kept them apart, but he didn’t shy back from the edge. Maybe he would never be enough to fill this abyss, but he could build a bridge. “Notice you missin the end a your pinky. Reckon we’re both missin somethin’. Thought I was less a man than my daddy ‘cause my dick was cut and his wasn’t. Done a lot a dumbass things provin otherwise.”
Their words had not come easy and cut deep as any knife, straight to the beating heart, making them blood brothers, cast from the same stony womb, blessed and cursed in one breath. Their times together were a break in the battle to be what they were not. If they threw that away, they’d have the rest of their lives to regret it. And there it was. Ennis could still deny it, could tell Jack he wasn’t like him, that he was a real man, even if he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He still had a chance to be safe. Safe, but alone and always under siege.
“I reckon some folks might call us queer,” he said. “Or some other ugly name supposed ta make ‘em feel like they’re better’n us. Me, I ain’t got no name for it. Don’t need one long as it can be like this, just you’n me, always.”
“That’s all I ever wanted, cowboy.”
tbc
Ennis remembered how he gave Jack a little shake, sayin, hey bud, even if we cain’t go home, we cain’t sleep here. Jack sat up in the bed a the truck and asked why not, with a grin to beat the devil. For no good reason, Ennis said, “Maybe ‘cause my name ain’t Randee,” and Jack answered quick and sharp, “Maybe so.”
“What? You wish I was a girl, Jack? That it?”
“Well, ain’t that what you’re wishin’? Wouldn’t all your problems go away if I had tits?”
That shut Ennis up for so long that Jack waited warily for a sucker punch, figured he’d finally pushed him too hard. When came, it was in the form of words. “You tell me one thing, Jack fuckin Twist. Why’n hell you have ta make such a point a tellin me ‘bout your gal friend, huh?”
Another silence, not too long, but plenty of time to die once or twice before Jack burst out with, “Is your ass that ignorant, Ennis? Then here it is: all my cards. I’m rollin over and hopin I ain’t makin the biggest mistake a my whole sorry life. I done it ‘cause I wanted you ta act jealous. To prove that you love me in spite a yourself.”
“Jack…” Ennis took a breath, reconsidered his words. “It ain’t okay.”
“What ain’t okay? Swear ta God, you’re goin a make me crazy, you mule-headed sonuvabitch. Cain’t you just gimme just one little sign?”
“It ain’t okay that you sleep with women, Jack,” Ennis’s voice cracked wide open, shook precariously. “Put a nail in my heart ever’ time you talk about it.”
Jack’s arms made a circle ‘round Ennis, buoyed him up. “I hated that you was goin a marry Alma, but I was too scared ta say nothin. Figgered if we kept pretendin we wasn’t queer, you wouldn’t get spooked and run off.”
Pain glazed Ennis’s gaze with a sheen of salt water. “Seen what can happen when folks take against some guy ‘cause he’s littler, or slower, or somethin’. Like him bein different makes it okay ta pick on ‘im. Once they start in…”
Jack nodded; this wasn’t news to him. “What’d you see, Ennis?”
“When I was little, I seen the castrated corpse a this old guy name a Earl used ta pick up pop bottles on the side a the road. Used ta hear my daddy yellin at ‘im out the window a the truck whenever he seen ‘im: queer, faggot, ought a get my gun and blow your pecker off. Reckon somebody finally did. My daddy, or one a his crowd.”
“Jesus, Ennis!” Jack saw clearly now how deep the chasm was that kept them apart, but he didn’t shy back from the edge. Maybe he would never be enough to fill this abyss, but he could build a bridge. “Notice you missin the end a your pinky. Reckon we’re both missin somethin’. Thought I was less a man than my daddy ‘cause my dick was cut and his wasn’t. Done a lot a dumbass things provin otherwise.”
Their words had not come easy and cut deep as any knife, straight to the beating heart, making them blood brothers, cast from the same stony womb, blessed and cursed in one breath. Their times together were a break in the battle to be what they were not. If they threw that away, they’d have the rest of their lives to regret it. And there it was. Ennis could still deny it, could tell Jack he wasn’t like him, that he was a real man, even if he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He still had a chance to be safe. Safe, but alone and always under siege.
“I reckon some folks might call us queer,” he said. “Or some other ugly name supposed ta make ‘em feel like they’re better’n us. Me, I ain’t got no name for it. Don’t need one long as it can be like this, just you’n me, always.”
“That’s all I ever wanted, cowboy.”
tbc