the right before...
THE SUNFLOWER BED
"stop the truck," the passenger suddenly cried out.
the driver eased up on the gas but would not brake down.
"pull over," begged the passenger, "hurry, before it's all gone!"
"what are you talking about? before what's all gone?"
" the sunflowers, the sunflowers, pull over now!"
it was a rarity to see him so animated on a drive.
it was summertime in wyoming, a rare thing for jack, a chance to see ennis when it was still hot outside. it was noon and the sun was overhead, almost a hundred degrees fahrenheit with no breeze in sight. a dry heat. he looked to the side and saw what ennis was talking about. it was there the last time they drove up the pass, but ennis didn't say a word.
back then, it was young, a grove of sunflowers wiry and green and wriggling toward blue skies and freedom. like gangly teens they spun around and around, tied by their roots to the land below, faces toward the sun. now they stood side by side and supported each other while competing, fighting to reach the most light: a half acre of brilliant yellow cutting through the pale golden land along the road on both sides, a sliver of pollen and petals, big scratchy leaves jutting from stalks with bases as thick as soup cans and topped with one, single, glorious flowerhead bringing energy from the heavens above to the earth underground. they' stopped growing the day before, recently frozen on the spot with their heliotropic dance stopped, when maturity passed over each precious blossom without a thought.
"oh, god," muttered jack, knowing full well what his lover had in mind. he gave in one last time because the odds were that he wouldn't see sunflowers with ennis ever again. it truly was a rare treat, jack knew that much. the last time they'd had summer was a decade after brokeback. bobby was not a teenager and tractor sales were taking off, they'd bought a new house (and a cheap, undeveloped plot for the future -- enough space for a trailer or small cabin on the north rim of a small lake in east texas), and the family dog they called patches had died.
the last time jack saw wyoming sunflowers in july, his wife lureen was just beginning to think that her husband was not what she expected. she'd found clothing in jack's dresser from time to time, items that did not belong to jack at all, like t shirts and other clothes: a shirt with holes, a pair of striped socks more than once, so worn out. underwear with a label she'd never seen before. she noticed a shirt she bought him for his birthday was gone.
that's when summers faded for the boys, when unseen outside forces pulled them apart made everything crystallize. the spiral was tightening like sunflowers in shell, and jack wanted to burst forth somehow. he wanted out. still, he wasn't sure and was wary, unable to jump.
when jack finally did look away from the field of gold, ennis winked lovingly and grinned, halfway like always.
"but ennis, what if--" he started to utter, but was stopped short when he felt a rough calloused hand on his abdomen. "oh jeez, oh, oh..."
jack's voice trailed off as his foot floated off the gas and pressed down on the brake pedal. the truck skidded to a hard stop in the loose gravel shoulder of the empty two-lane road that was taking them away to the wilderness.
ennis waved away apprehension and stared out at the bed of flowers without letting go of jack's body. "this is old man bishop's farm. nobody cuts through his land, it don't lead to nowhere but nothin."
as soon as he said it, jack laughed. up ahead on the straight roadway there was a flash of light flickering in the heat waves and traveling fast. ennis squinted his eyes and whispered, "shit, duck."
jack's shirt was pushed off as soon as they went down. it went over his head as they lay flat on the seat in the cab of the truck. the door facing the sunflowers flew open on -- purpose or by mistake -- and gave them more leg room so their boots could stick out. jack felt heat on his legs from the sun beating down, and when the oncoming vehicle roared past, his own truck shuddered. when it was gone, they rose up.
ennis left a wet trail of saliva from jack's neck to the shiny buckle of the old belt that sat above a definite lump. jack looked down to find ennis looking up with lust, and a strong manly chin rooting around his bulge; when jack flexed to make it jump, ennis pretended it was trout and caught it.
jack revealed to ennis where the blanket was in the back and was soon alone and breathing heavy with his head propped on the glass. "all right, all right," he muttered, when ennis came back.
ennis had the blanket under his arm and stood in the doorway of the truck, opening his pearl button snaps one by one and riding jack's right boot like a saddle, doing a slow dance.
"i'm bright eyed and bushy-tailed for once, take advantage of it," said ennis, remixing words he usually saved for his girls.
jack grabbed ennis's hand and together they ran down a ravine that was moist from a natural well's runoff. in spring it was a deep puddle teeming with tadpoles; somewhere further south there was a wading pond. it was a place that local kids went to cool off, risking leeches and mosquito bites before it dried up. it was late august now, so it was just a marsh, with cattails standing proud.
where do all the frogs go? they were underground, hiding in the mud, staying cool, their hearts hardly beating, eyes closed, dreaming of flies and knowing winter would come. since they stopped their songs a month ago, only dragonflies provided the background noise. one such insect, in fact, had landed on the antennae of jack's new truck, mesmerized by the bright, metallic blue of vehicle's paint job.
a couple of crows, playing tag in the hot air above the boys -- who dashed like deer in a straight line to the center of the forest of flowers -- cawed out their disapproval at the commotion below.
each sunflower was over 10 feet tall and showered jack and ennis with shadows. ennis found a spot, then kicked down two stalks with his boots, then two more, and two more again while jack watched. there was a wide space for them to lay down, and as ennis tugged the blanket out as gingerly as making a bed for his daughters, jack could smell his manly scent and froze. when a breeze kicked up momentarily, jack inhaled deeply, smelling the tinniness of his lover that he recognized and adored. it was something he could never forget, and jack reminded himself to steal a t-shirt when their camping trip was over.
when ennis turned around, the texan's boots were gone and his jeans were around his ankles. jack's blue eyes solidified the lust between the pair as he blinked seductively at his lover. ennis's jaw was slack and waiting.
jack ran a hand back through his pitch black hair, his shirt was pulled off and his hat was on the ground. a low whistle emitted from ennis's lips when jack took both hands and wrapped them around his manly parts. everything popped out -- the head of his dick was already slick, and veins on the shaft were bulging along every stiff inch. his balls, so fat, were smooth as eggs because he'd shaved in texas before the drive up. they itched in his jeans, but felt great hanging out.
ennis took two steps foward until their lips touched, and jack sighed when their tongues slid across each other in the confines of their mouths.
"c'mon, lay back," ennis urged as he shimmied out of his own tight pants. he wasn't wearing underwear and jack dropped to his knees like a gardner planting bulbs. his mouth opened, and it slid right in. he only spit once to help things out, and once his lips touched the hairs at the end, he let ennis push him down to the blanket. now the local boy was doing pushups, with both hands on either side of jack's hips. when jack gagged, ennis would raise up; when jack moaned, he'd slide it back in.
it wasn't long before jack bucked his hips to half-bury his own rod in wetness. the light shone iridescent, bathing their skin in a tawny yellow that filtered down through the canopy of petals above their heads. it masked out sound and filtered the brightness, making a private world for their cravings.
"that old man bishop? he better not come by and catch you with your pants down," jack warned with renewed vigor wiggling his limbs as they rodeoed up and down.
the crows were long gone when the men were done. each time a sharp wind picked up, their skin was sprinkled with the gold dust of flowers. they were dressed part-way when they emerged again, the sun hot on their shoulders. ennis had the blanket in his hand, bundled around a package. he'd taken out his knife and cut off off the flowers of the stalks he'd trampled down, their heads as wide as dinner plates, pefectly convex, each one studded with seeds jam-packed in a lovely spiral pattern. he'd roast them in camp with a little oil and salt, as something to snack on while fishing.
a half hour had passed. the truck was there the way they left it, the keys still in the ignition and the radio on. "shit, i could have drained the battery," jack said, acting pissed off. "you make me do things, del mar, uncontrollable things."
ennis only grinned wider. he tossed the blanket in back and took off his hat before he climbed in the cabin.
"don't you have a sears diehard in this new bucket of bolts?"
jack had driven up a spankin' new ford this time, and was ready for a ribbing by ennis.
"damn ford -- found-on the-road-dead," ennis muttered as a joke as he checked it out the bells and whistles. he was opening the glove box, pulling out the ashtray and inspecting the lighter, adjusting vents, turning the radio dial and trying the CB out. he flipped down the sun visors when the sun started to dip. when he did this, a photograph slipped out. it landed on his lap face down; he flipped it over and was it was a high school picture of bobby.
ennis's face softened at once. "he looks more and more like you every year, jack."
jack smiled and kept his eyes on the road. "yeah..."
"bring him up next time, i think he's old enough."
"says he hates camping. hates fishing too. yeah, and i took him hunting once. he refused to kill an antelope."
ennis looked at the picture longer, letting his finger flick the edge, before he tucked it underneath the garage door opener clip. he nodded and took one last look. "he has a good heart."
nothing else was said about the boy.
jack winced inside. he wasn't sure what his own heart was like, it felt heavier each time he saw ennis. he didn't talk about randall yet, and wasn't sure if he should make mention of the fact that he was seeing another guy. later that week, after they'd had steaks and corn on the cob -- and beans fixed just the way ennis liked them -- and after he told ennis he loved him about a hundred times in whispered short gasps, and when they were almost out of whiskey.... jack started to tell the truth. well, he wanted to tell the truth.
instead, what ennis heard was that it was a rancher's wife.
did ennis even know how much it hurt jack when he said he was seeing that bar maid?
"rancher's wife?"
"yeah."
ennis didn't seem to be riled up at all about this, but told jack to be careful. "might get shot by the husband, or your wife, or both, if you don't watch out."
then ennis smiled. it wasn't much, but there it was, and jack felt crushed inside.
jack laughed back with a puff and shrugged, unsure of what next to say to the man he loved, who seemed not to care about devotion at all.
the only thing jack was sure about was that he needed to be with ennis in order to feel alive. he spit to send a salty hull out, where it joined a hundred or more that littered the ground at their boot tips.
ennis kicked the fire, sending sparks flying, and announced out loud that this was their last night. the chair he was sitting in creaked in complaint, and jack's old chair answered back.
jack looked over lovingly at the man beside him and reached a hand out.
ennis took it and placed it on his thigh, covering it with calloused fingers, saying nothing, squeezing tight.
