For Milo

Ennis’s friendship with Jack Twist was a thing apart, something he kept hidden on a high shelf out of the reach of others, like a mason jar of moonshine in the dark cave of the root cellar.  Something he slipped off to sip from on the sly.  He never took it out and looked at it directly, only sidled up to it, stealing sidelong glances ( Read more... )

Sometimes It Goes the Other Way: Part Fourteen

A serialized tribute to Brokeback Mountain, the book and the Oscar-worthy film.

The sun rose like it always did, out of habit and never late, beaming into the bedroom, waking them at dawn every day because Jack could never remember to close the curtains at night.  Jack liked the way the light ( Read more... )

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 ( Read more... )

Jack said when he left Lureen he rode the train as far as his money would take him then thumbed it for a stretch.  Caught a ride with a live wire name a Randee, co-ed from A & M, off to see the world before startin her last year as an Aggie.  Said Randee made him welcome in every way known to her from the time she rolled down the window and told ( Read more... )

Ennis found a beer and a place in a corner and folded in on himself to watch the fellas shoot pool.  A buck-toothed b-girl joined them, smiling big and laughing loud, leaning her shelfy chest on the table, drinking from everybody’s cup, and generally making herself available.  Roy pointed her in Ennis’s direction, letting on that the boy needed ( Read more... )

Ennis hooked up with a crew from Atlantic Richfield working the Prudhoe Bay area on the forty-ninth state’s north slope, nosing around for more black gold.  It was always cold, the seasons stuck in one long winter, a barren stretch with no promise of spring that suited Ennis’s outlook to a T.  Work was hard, especially on the hands, and Ennis lost ( Read more... )

Jack swallowed his pride like a shot of battery acid and kept it down long enough to take L. D.’s money.  He needed it.  Last bull of his rodeo career launched him high, but not quite into orbit and didn’t take it kindly when he landed under its nose.  Left a crater Jack couldn’t climb out of without a helping hand, hospital bills being what ( Read more... )

There were no flies on Lureen Newsome, and she had never heard of the word no.  Her daddy let it ride, sly cuss, figuring the new would wear off Jack Twist soon enough and his baby girl would pick out a stud with better breeding to sire his grandkids.  Too canny to talk her cowboy down, L.D. played it broad, called Jack ‘Rodeo’ like naming a pet, ( Read more... )

Jack set his hat on the chair, hair standing out every which way, guzzled the last of his beer, crushed the can and collected two points on his way to the bed.  Ennis eyed him sourly, said he was mighty perky for somebody been out all night.  Jack’s spit dried up, the barometric pressure dropping, presaging wild weather, making his bones itch ( Read more... )

Part Six of a serialized tribute to Brokeback Mountain, the book and the Oscar-worthy film.

For two years, they worked the circuit, Jack riding bulls and more, Ennis odd-jobbin’ it, both of them working hard, drinking hard, loving harder, not saving a dime.  They reached a rough accord on dippin’ their wicks: the occasional female was to be ( Read more... )