Go Fish - Part Seven (A)
Title: Go Fish, Part Seven (A)
Author: louisestrange
Subject: A/U: Jack and Ennis are reunited four years after Brokeback - both unhappy in their lives, Jack convinces Ennis to take a chance, but things don’t always go according to plan…
Disclaimer: These characters are the intellectual property of Annie Proulx and I will never, ever, profit in any way from writing about them. Ever.
Rating: PG-13ish. Language, sexual references, angst.
Feedback: You know the drill. I love it and crave it. Keep it coming :)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Author’s Note: I decided to split this chapter into two parts this time, so here’s the first: Seven (A). I did this because I really wanted this chapter to be a little longer and move the story on, but pesky old life’s been getting in the way and with a new job and other events, I just haven’t had any time to get it all done. Hopefully half a chapter is better than no chapter at all and will keep you interested! I’ll have Seven (B) up ASAP. Thanks again for reading - I can’t believe how lovely you’ve all been, and with my first attempt too! Thank you x 1,000,000! :)
Go Fish - Part Seven (A)
Ennis held the receiver tight in his hand, post-sex warmth in him draining like sand through a sieve as he waited for Alma to answer; knocked-up Alma, there with another man, enough to make Ennis put two-and-two together and come up with forty-five.
“Monroe from work came t’see I was doin’ alright under the circumstances.”
Could hardly find the words then, any words at all, and he felt his throat close up tight, clenching like the free hand balled in a fist by his side. He took a deep breath, tried to, and spoke quietly. “So help me Alma, if that baby you’re carryin’s his, if there is a fuckin’ baby at all, I’ll…”
“You’ll what, Ennis? Ain’t none a you’re concern no more.” Her voice was high-pitched and louder than it needed to be, defiance masking anger or upset or both.
A shuffling noise came, whispered words before he could say anything else and then Monroe spoke. “Ennis, I don’t rightly know the why’s and where’s of what’s happened here, but Alma’s real upset an’ I think it’d be for the best if’n…”
“You listen a’me now, an’ listen good, you slimy motherfucker. If I’m to find out that baby’s yours I’ll make you eat the floor you’re standin’ on, an’ her too.”
Silence all that met him after that and so he slammed down the phone and walked away, throat dry and heart pounding hard in his chest. He made it to the pick-up where Jack was waiting, already in the drivers seat with a smile so broad it hardly fit on his face.
“D’you make the call?” Jack asked and squinted as he looked at him in the daylight, stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit it and laid a hand on the steering wheel in front of him. Ennis climbed in, slammed the door and Jack’s expression changed as he saw that Ennis’s post-coital glow had worn off already. He rolled his eyes. “What in the name o’fuck now, Ennis?”
“I gotta get down there, she’s got a fuckin’ man in there with her.”
“Well now,” He started with a sly smile and drew on the cigarette slowly. “You got a man here with you, if I’m not t’be mistaken.”
Ennis ignored him, stared straight ahead like the dashboard of the truck might have all the answers, and tried to speak through gritted teeth. “Here I am thinkin’ she’s lying…‘bout being pregnant…seems more’n likely she’s lyin’ ‘bout who got her pregnant…”
“Friend, why d’you even care anymore? Baby ain’t yours, or there’s no baby, you got no reason t’stay. She got herself a new fella, fine. Makes things a whole helluva lot easier than they might be otherwise.”
“She’s been tryin’ a make a fuckin’ fool o’me, s’why I care, her an’ that son of a bitch.”
“She tell you this, Ennis? She say she’s been screwin’ ‘round? She say the baby’s his?”
He looked sideways at Jack then, hat resting too low, hiding his eyes. ”No, but he’s there with her, soon as I’m gone. Makes sense, don’t it?”
“That it? Ennis…” Jack said softly, smiled, and lifted a hand to his cheek only to have it batted away like it didn’t belong there. “Fine. Be that way.”
“How’m I s’posed t’be?”
Jack sighed and flicked the last of his cigarette out of the open window, sent sparks flying through the dry air. “I don’t know, friend, I guess I jus’ don’t know.” He paused for a moment, bit on his lip and fixed a cold-blue stare on him. “What I do know, you goin’ down there an’ actin’ the jealous husband ain’t gonna do no-one no good - no way, no how.”
Ennis simmered as he sat, jaw working and lips tight, saying nothing. He thought on what Jack said and couldn’t disagree with him, not really, but without really knowing why all he wanted to do at that moment in time was to go back to Riverton and make it so that Monroe wouldn’t be in any fit state to get anyone’s wife pregnant ever again. If that’s what he had done. All this speculation, the second-guessing and uncertainty that came along with it, was making Ennis’s head pound harder than his heart. He put a hand to his hat, fiddled with it, like it was some kind of antenna that might un-fuzz the thoughts he was having. He felt his breathing slow to normal and from the corner of his eye he could see Jack leaning over the steering wheel, tensed up, looking at him with an something like disdain or maybe just disappointment.
“I gotta go sooner or later, anyways. Gotta try’n fix all this.”
“You still wanna fix this?”
“’Course I do.”
“In whose favour, Ennis?”
“What in the name o’ Christ you mean by that?”
He didn’t answer this, eyes saying enough that he didn’t have to. He looked away from Ennis, cursed to himself under his breath and sat back, pushing his shoulders back flat against the seat for a second and wincing a little before reverting to a sad-looking slouch. “You think she told him ‘bout us?”
“I dunno…dunno, but I ain’t gonna have no fuckin’ grocery boy thinkin’ I’m queer an’ that gives him the right to knock up my wife.”
“Not the queer bullshit ‘gain, Ennis - I got empty balls an’ a pain in my ass tellin’ me you’re queer as they come. Fact is, you didn’t wanna knock her up - don’t even think you coulda done it y’rself, so what if’n this fella did? Like I said, makes for an easier way out.”
“I don’t wanna talk on this Jack, I gotta get down there.”
“Well, friend, we’re in my truck an’ I’ll be damned ‘fore I drive you back to Riverton to try’n win back your fuckin’ wife less’n ten minutes after you was fuckin’ me.” Jack started the pick-up with a stomp to the pedal and pulled it out onto the dirty stretch of road that’d take them back to Lightning Flat.
* * * * *
“A baby, Alma? He said…I mean are you…you’re gonna have a baby?” Monroe asked, stuttering through shock, dirty-white receiver still in his hand.
She couldn’t lie again, knew if she did or if she didn’t it she stood a chance of ruining anything that might be with Monroe. Instead she let her shoulders slump low and her tears roll, no words spoken, no lies told. Monroe placed the phone back in its cradle and moved towards her, tentative hand on one slumped shoulder then strong arms around them both; he held her close and whispered, “You poor, sweet li’l thing.”
* * * * *
Ennis sat still and chewed on a thumbnail as he took in the flat empty road surrounding them on the way back to Jack’s folks’ place, remembering a time when his life was just as flat and straight as this road; a life before sheep-herding on Brokeback, detour of a summer spent laughing and fucking more than working, the shameful lingering taste of something he never should’ve had as much of a sniff at. Jack fucking Twist had opened him up and ruined him for that flat, mapped-out life he had to go back to. Same one he was trying to leave now - on the right road but heading in the wrong direction.
He cast his eyes sideways at Jack who was concentrating on driving and wearing his serious face, resolute in his silence without even a tuneless whistle to drown out the radio. Hurt him to make Jack this way, never the silent type and Ennis knew he was only being so to make a point. He ached to say something that might make it right, but had no words that would or could so didn’t try, let his eyes rest on Jack instead and thought about his postcard in June and all the trouble it’d caused, couldn’t help but wonder how Jack did this to him: not the sex, but all the feelings that grew because of it. Couldn’t remember any time in his life before Brokeback when he’d felt so goddamned much - good and bad. Always had kept his guard up and didn’t give much away, advice he’d been given at his parents’ graveside - just a boy then, no more than ass-high to the mourning crowd - and the realisation of what happened gripped him, took over and made him cry like a baby; sadness inside looking for a way out. His brother had smacked him upside the head, told him “Cryin’s for girls, Ennis; no place here for no sissy-boy, you’n me’s gotta be men now. ” Took his words to heart, acted like a man after that, didn’t let anything in so that there’d be nothing to let back out again.
All those years he didn’t make a habit of displaying any emotion besides anger and that was fleeting, bottled up and let out, quick and pointless, like fire from a busted gun. With nothing finding it’s way into him, life was easier; there was nothing for him to dwell on or have sweet-dreams or nightmares about; nothing to get in the way of him drifting into decisions made by other people; but nothing to prepared him for what happened up there that summer: the joy he felt from their friendship and what that friendship grew into and, just the same, nothing to prepared him for the sick, salty-teared sadness he felt when it came to an end. Four years on and seeing Jack again, past few months, had brought all those Brokeback feelings to the surface, back from that deep place inside himself where he’d kept them hidden best he could for four long years. Now he had no choice but let the emotion rise up in him until he wore it like a second layer of skin. A thought of Jack, sound of his voice and all those surface-close feelings found a way to seep right out, Jack Twist responsible for drawing them out of him like poison from a wound, liquid and real: nerves bringing sweat; confusion bringing tears and desire bringing clear slick and spunk, sweetest feeling of all.
The ranch came into view and Jack looked at him for the first time on the journey, still stony-faced. “You stayin’ or goin’?”
There was nothing else for it, had to be done. “Goin’ Jack, told ya that.”
Jack nodded. “Been thinkin’, you, uh…want me to come along? Might be better, jus’ incase…”
Ennis hadn’t expected that, surprise all over his face and a swift, “No…no way.”
The truck came to a creaky stop in front of the house. Jack sighed and shrugged. “Truth then, Ennis, tell me. You comin’ back? I can’t wait forever….shit, I ain’t gonna wait forever. Need t’know friend, ‘fore I know what the hell t’do next. Least if I was there, jus’ waitin’, I’d know.”
“I wanna come back, y’know I do but I need answers and ‘til I get them I can’t make no promises, broken ‘nough a them already.” Ennis looked at him and shook his head, hoped he’d see sense in what he was saying. “I can’t have you there wi’ me, Jack.”
No response to that right away, he looked at Ennis, then looked sharply away towards the house and opened the door of the pick-up. Fake friendly voice now for hard parting words, “Well, guess I’ll see you ‘round, friend.”
“Hell, Jack…” Ennis scrambled out of the truck, but Jack didn’t look back; walked and then disappeared into the house. Words too close to what he’d heard from Jack four years before and brought back the sickness; made him damn certain that it wouldn’t take four hours, never mind four years, to get his ass back here if he could help it. Ennis went to his own truck, left parked lopsided in the muddy drive, and looked back at he house, saw nothing. He cursed and punched the tin door uselessly before getting in. Ready as he’d ever be to face Alma and Monroe; he knew this day was likely to get a hell of a lot worse before it could start to get better.
Author: louisestrange
Subject: A/U: Jack and Ennis are reunited four years after Brokeback - both unhappy in their lives, Jack convinces Ennis to take a chance, but things don’t always go according to plan…
Disclaimer: These characters are the intellectual property of Annie Proulx and I will never, ever, profit in any way from writing about them. Ever.
Rating: PG-13ish. Language, sexual references, angst.
Feedback: You know the drill. I love it and crave it. Keep it coming :)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Author’s Note: I decided to split this chapter into two parts this time, so here’s the first: Seven (A). I did this because I really wanted this chapter to be a little longer and move the story on, but pesky old life’s been getting in the way and with a new job and other events, I just haven’t had any time to get it all done. Hopefully half a chapter is better than no chapter at all and will keep you interested! I’ll have Seven (B) up ASAP. Thanks again for reading - I can’t believe how lovely you’ve all been, and with my first attempt too! Thank you x 1,000,000! :)
Go Fish - Part Seven (A)
Ennis held the receiver tight in his hand, post-sex warmth in him draining like sand through a sieve as he waited for Alma to answer; knocked-up Alma, there with another man, enough to make Ennis put two-and-two together and come up with forty-five.
“Monroe from work came t’see I was doin’ alright under the circumstances.”
Could hardly find the words then, any words at all, and he felt his throat close up tight, clenching like the free hand balled in a fist by his side. He took a deep breath, tried to, and spoke quietly. “So help me Alma, if that baby you’re carryin’s his, if there is a fuckin’ baby at all, I’ll…”
“You’ll what, Ennis? Ain’t none a you’re concern no more.” Her voice was high-pitched and louder than it needed to be, defiance masking anger or upset or both.
A shuffling noise came, whispered words before he could say anything else and then Monroe spoke. “Ennis, I don’t rightly know the why’s and where’s of what’s happened here, but Alma’s real upset an’ I think it’d be for the best if’n…”
“You listen a’me now, an’ listen good, you slimy motherfucker. If I’m to find out that baby’s yours I’ll make you eat the floor you’re standin’ on, an’ her too.”
Silence all that met him after that and so he slammed down the phone and walked away, throat dry and heart pounding hard in his chest. He made it to the pick-up where Jack was waiting, already in the drivers seat with a smile so broad it hardly fit on his face.
“D’you make the call?” Jack asked and squinted as he looked at him in the daylight, stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit it and laid a hand on the steering wheel in front of him. Ennis climbed in, slammed the door and Jack’s expression changed as he saw that Ennis’s post-coital glow had worn off already. He rolled his eyes. “What in the name o’fuck now, Ennis?”
“I gotta get down there, she’s got a fuckin’ man in there with her.”
“Well now,” He started with a sly smile and drew on the cigarette slowly. “You got a man here with you, if I’m not t’be mistaken.”
Ennis ignored him, stared straight ahead like the dashboard of the truck might have all the answers, and tried to speak through gritted teeth. “Here I am thinkin’ she’s lying…‘bout being pregnant…seems more’n likely she’s lyin’ ‘bout who got her pregnant…”
“Friend, why d’you even care anymore? Baby ain’t yours, or there’s no baby, you got no reason t’stay. She got herself a new fella, fine. Makes things a whole helluva lot easier than they might be otherwise.”
“She’s been tryin’ a make a fuckin’ fool o’me, s’why I care, her an’ that son of a bitch.”
“She tell you this, Ennis? She say she’s been screwin’ ‘round? She say the baby’s his?”
He looked sideways at Jack then, hat resting too low, hiding his eyes. ”No, but he’s there with her, soon as I’m gone. Makes sense, don’t it?”
“That it? Ennis…” Jack said softly, smiled, and lifted a hand to his cheek only to have it batted away like it didn’t belong there. “Fine. Be that way.”
“How’m I s’posed t’be?”
Jack sighed and flicked the last of his cigarette out of the open window, sent sparks flying through the dry air. “I don’t know, friend, I guess I jus’ don’t know.” He paused for a moment, bit on his lip and fixed a cold-blue stare on him. “What I do know, you goin’ down there an’ actin’ the jealous husband ain’t gonna do no-one no good - no way, no how.”
Ennis simmered as he sat, jaw working and lips tight, saying nothing. He thought on what Jack said and couldn’t disagree with him, not really, but without really knowing why all he wanted to do at that moment in time was to go back to Riverton and make it so that Monroe wouldn’t be in any fit state to get anyone’s wife pregnant ever again. If that’s what he had done. All this speculation, the second-guessing and uncertainty that came along with it, was making Ennis’s head pound harder than his heart. He put a hand to his hat, fiddled with it, like it was some kind of antenna that might un-fuzz the thoughts he was having. He felt his breathing slow to normal and from the corner of his eye he could see Jack leaning over the steering wheel, tensed up, looking at him with an something like disdain or maybe just disappointment.
“I gotta go sooner or later, anyways. Gotta try’n fix all this.”
“You still wanna fix this?”
“’Course I do.”
“In whose favour, Ennis?”
“What in the name o’ Christ you mean by that?”
He didn’t answer this, eyes saying enough that he didn’t have to. He looked away from Ennis, cursed to himself under his breath and sat back, pushing his shoulders back flat against the seat for a second and wincing a little before reverting to a sad-looking slouch. “You think she told him ‘bout us?”
“I dunno…dunno, but I ain’t gonna have no fuckin’ grocery boy thinkin’ I’m queer an’ that gives him the right to knock up my wife.”
“Not the queer bullshit ‘gain, Ennis - I got empty balls an’ a pain in my ass tellin’ me you’re queer as they come. Fact is, you didn’t wanna knock her up - don’t even think you coulda done it y’rself, so what if’n this fella did? Like I said, makes for an easier way out.”
“I don’t wanna talk on this Jack, I gotta get down there.”
“Well, friend, we’re in my truck an’ I’ll be damned ‘fore I drive you back to Riverton to try’n win back your fuckin’ wife less’n ten minutes after you was fuckin’ me.” Jack started the pick-up with a stomp to the pedal and pulled it out onto the dirty stretch of road that’d take them back to Lightning Flat.
* * * * *
“A baby, Alma? He said…I mean are you…you’re gonna have a baby?” Monroe asked, stuttering through shock, dirty-white receiver still in his hand.
She couldn’t lie again, knew if she did or if she didn’t it she stood a chance of ruining anything that might be with Monroe. Instead she let her shoulders slump low and her tears roll, no words spoken, no lies told. Monroe placed the phone back in its cradle and moved towards her, tentative hand on one slumped shoulder then strong arms around them both; he held her close and whispered, “You poor, sweet li’l thing.”
* * * * *
Ennis sat still and chewed on a thumbnail as he took in the flat empty road surrounding them on the way back to Jack’s folks’ place, remembering a time when his life was just as flat and straight as this road; a life before sheep-herding on Brokeback, detour of a summer spent laughing and fucking more than working, the shameful lingering taste of something he never should’ve had as much of a sniff at. Jack fucking Twist had opened him up and ruined him for that flat, mapped-out life he had to go back to. Same one he was trying to leave now - on the right road but heading in the wrong direction.
He cast his eyes sideways at Jack who was concentrating on driving and wearing his serious face, resolute in his silence without even a tuneless whistle to drown out the radio. Hurt him to make Jack this way, never the silent type and Ennis knew he was only being so to make a point. He ached to say something that might make it right, but had no words that would or could so didn’t try, let his eyes rest on Jack instead and thought about his postcard in June and all the trouble it’d caused, couldn’t help but wonder how Jack did this to him: not the sex, but all the feelings that grew because of it. Couldn’t remember any time in his life before Brokeback when he’d felt so goddamned much - good and bad. Always had kept his guard up and didn’t give much away, advice he’d been given at his parents’ graveside - just a boy then, no more than ass-high to the mourning crowd - and the realisation of what happened gripped him, took over and made him cry like a baby; sadness inside looking for a way out. His brother had smacked him upside the head, told him “Cryin’s for girls, Ennis; no place here for no sissy-boy, you’n me’s gotta be men now. ” Took his words to heart, acted like a man after that, didn’t let anything in so that there’d be nothing to let back out again.
All those years he didn’t make a habit of displaying any emotion besides anger and that was fleeting, bottled up and let out, quick and pointless, like fire from a busted gun. With nothing finding it’s way into him, life was easier; there was nothing for him to dwell on or have sweet-dreams or nightmares about; nothing to get in the way of him drifting into decisions made by other people; but nothing to prepared him for what happened up there that summer: the joy he felt from their friendship and what that friendship grew into and, just the same, nothing to prepared him for the sick, salty-teared sadness he felt when it came to an end. Four years on and seeing Jack again, past few months, had brought all those Brokeback feelings to the surface, back from that deep place inside himself where he’d kept them hidden best he could for four long years. Now he had no choice but let the emotion rise up in him until he wore it like a second layer of skin. A thought of Jack, sound of his voice and all those surface-close feelings found a way to seep right out, Jack Twist responsible for drawing them out of him like poison from a wound, liquid and real: nerves bringing sweat; confusion bringing tears and desire bringing clear slick and spunk, sweetest feeling of all.
The ranch came into view and Jack looked at him for the first time on the journey, still stony-faced. “You stayin’ or goin’?”
There was nothing else for it, had to be done. “Goin’ Jack, told ya that.”
Jack nodded. “Been thinkin’, you, uh…want me to come along? Might be better, jus’ incase…”
Ennis hadn’t expected that, surprise all over his face and a swift, “No…no way.”
The truck came to a creaky stop in front of the house. Jack sighed and shrugged. “Truth then, Ennis, tell me. You comin’ back? I can’t wait forever….shit, I ain’t gonna wait forever. Need t’know friend, ‘fore I know what the hell t’do next. Least if I was there, jus’ waitin’, I’d know.”
“I wanna come back, y’know I do but I need answers and ‘til I get them I can’t make no promises, broken ‘nough a them already.” Ennis looked at him and shook his head, hoped he’d see sense in what he was saying. “I can’t have you there wi’ me, Jack.”
No response to that right away, he looked at Ennis, then looked sharply away towards the house and opened the door of the pick-up. Fake friendly voice now for hard parting words, “Well, guess I’ll see you ‘round, friend.”
“Hell, Jack…” Ennis scrambled out of the truck, but Jack didn’t look back; walked and then disappeared into the house. Words too close to what he’d heard from Jack four years before and brought back the sickness; made him damn certain that it wouldn’t take four hours, never mind four years, to get his ass back here if he could help it. Ennis went to his own truck, left parked lopsided in the muddy drive, and looked back at he house, saw nothing. He cursed and punched the tin door uselessly before getting in. Ready as he’d ever be to face Alma and Monroe; he knew this day was likely to get a hell of a lot worse before it could start to get better.