WPFAAT interlude: The Good Stuff
Here's the interlude. It comes from the Kenny Chesney song "The Good Stuff." I don't know why, but apparently I'm only able to write interludes in the vein of a song. Oh well.
Wyoming, July 1965
“Well fuck you!” Jack spat, storming out the door. Ennis growled in frustration. Just why did they think they’d be able to live together? That man was driving him fucking insane. He grumbled under his breath, climbing slowly up the stairs to check on Bobby. Jack fucking Twist. Left Ennis with the kid while he went out drinking. Ennis weren’t nobody’s wife. But still. He’d better make sure Bobby was still asleep, make sure their shouting hadn’t woken him.
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Jack threw his truck door open angrily. Damn him. Damn him to hell. What made him think he was so high and mighty? Goddamn. Man thought he was the fucking king of the world.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked. Jack deliberated a little. He’d still have to drive home. He glanced around while he thought. He was the only person here. Screw going home. If he got too drunk, he’d sleep it off in his truck. Show Ennis.
“Gimme the good stuff.” Jack said, voice harsh. His anger was rapidly dimming and giving way to despair. What if he and Ennis really couldn’t live together? Would he have to slink back to Lureen, tail between his legs? Would he really have to live without Ennis again? The bartender gave him a sad smile.
“Fight with your lady?” He asked knowingly.
“Um.” Jack licked his lower lip. “Yeah.” He shrugged. It was the same sentiment, right? And plus, he got a mean, satisfied feeling at calling Ennis a woman. Petty, he knew, but still.
“Well, son, whiskey ain’t gonna change that none.” Jack peered at him for the first time. He was old-had to be at least fifty. From Jack’s not-quite-twenty-two, that might as well be prehistoric.
“Might make me forget.” Jack said with a little shake of his head. “Come on, I need something good.”
“I ain’t got what you’re looking for.” His eyes were far away. “You already got it, son. The good stuff? You got it waiting for ya at home.” The man shuffled over and sat down by Jack, pouring them each a glass of Coke.
“Ned Thompson.” The barkeep stuck out his hand.
“Jack Twist.” They shook. Jack took a long swig of Coke. It was definitely not strong enough.
“Remember your first kiss with this gal?” Ned asked. Jack almost told him Ennis weren’t no gal. But he held his tongue.
“Yeah.” He said softly instead. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory. Lying in the tent, thinking about Ennis, wondering how the rest of the summer was going to turn out, scared as hell, and then that rush of intense, absolute joy when Ennis came in and kneeled in front of them. He remembered Ennis’s tentativeness, his own nervousness, and then every other feeling in the world melting away as their lips finally met. “Yeah, I do.” He repeated.
Ned nodded at him. “See?” He pointed at Jack’s smile. “You got yourself a good one. You kids married?”
“Um…” Jack didn’t know what to say. They weren’t; probably never would be. But wasn’t it kind of the same? Their living together, didn’t it mean they were forever? “Yeah.” He finally conceded. “Got a boy. Year old.”
“No shit?” Ned whistled. “Started young, eh?”
“Well, uh, we may not exactly gone in the right order, if you know what I mean.” Jack shrugged sheepishly. That part was completely true. Lureen’d been pregnant before they got married, but L.D. had insisted they married before the baby was born.
“Oh, I see.” Ned clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder for a minute. He felt very fatherly. Well, what Jack assumed fatherly felt like. If he’d been like Jack’s father, he probably would’ve slugged him for getting the girl pregnant.
“Sure you ain’t got anything stronger?” Jack asked hopefully. Ned shook his head.
“Son, your girl wouldn’t be too happy if you came home all drunk, now would she?”
Ennis would probably drink every last drop of alcohol in the house. If he got to be drunk, why didn’t Jack? He wondered how to tell Ned that.
“’Sides, you got a baby. Can’t be getting drunk all the time, now can you?”
Shit. Ennis wouldn’t be getting drunk off his ass with Bobby home alone with him, would he? Jack’s mind flashed on all of Ennis’s fatherly tendencies, his little smiles just for Bobby. Nope. He wouldn’t let himself get drunk.
“Guess not.” Jack admitted reluctantly. He saw a black and white picture on the wall; a girl, probably about Jack’s age, smiling sweetly. She was pretty beautiful, he had to say. Ned followed his gaze, and his eyes got soft.
“That’s my Nina.” He said. He looked into his Coke. “Right ‘fore we got married.”
“She’s real beautiful.” Jack reassured him.
“Sure was. Always was, right to the day she died.” He sounded only a little choked up.
“How’d she die?”
“Cancer.” Ned bit his lip. “Pretty painful. I got…I don’t think I stopped drinking that whole year after she went.” Jack nodded. When he first came back off Brokeback? Shit, he couldn’t even remember that whole first month.
“But I ain’t had a drop in three years.” Ned smiled proudly. “Know why?”
“Why?”
“Nina hated when I drank. And it’d be easy to think, well fuck, she’s gone now, ain’t she?” Ned chuckled. “She ain’t gone.” He touched his heart and was quiet. Jack got it.
“Anyway, I got to hold her hand as she went. And all those times we’d kiss, or I’d look at her and know she’s mine, or when I saw her holding out boys? That drunk is better than any whiskey ever given me. You know what I mean.”
Jack ran a finger around the rim of his glass. He did love to see Ennis playing with Bobby. And he certainly got all moony whenever Ennis kissed him. Yeah, he did know. And he thought of Ennis, sitting in the house, worrying over Jack. He stood up.
“Thanks, Ned. But, uh, I gotta…”
“Yep. You get on home. Now listen, she’s gonna start to cry when you get home.” Jack held back a snort. Ennis would not cry. “She’ll say she’s sorry. Don’t say anything ‘cept me too. Hear? Then kiss her and drink up.”
“Yessir.” Jack smiled and took out his wallet.
“No, no, no.” Ned held up his hands. “Don’t think so.”
“Aw, come on.” Jack needled. “You gave me the good stuff.” He smiled and dropped a few bills on the counter. Ned shook his head, but Jack wouldn’t take them back.
He walked in the door, and Ennis got up quick from the chair he was sitting in.
“Jack, where you been?” He put his hands on his hips to avoid grabbing Jack and holding him tight. He didn’t know if he was still mad or not. But Jack crossed the distance between them and wrapped Ennis into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Ennis.” He murmured. Ennis bit his lip.
“Me too.” His voice was muffled and he said it real quiet, hardly able to let it pass his lips, but he’d said it. Jack smiled and kissed him, long and slow and sweet, and then he let fly.
“I love you.” He whispered, for the first time. Ennis gulped. He kissed Jack again.
“Me too.”
It was more lip than spoken word, but Jack heard it. And he was drunk for weeks.
Wyoming, July 1965
“Well fuck you!” Jack spat, storming out the door. Ennis growled in frustration. Just why did they think they’d be able to live together? That man was driving him fucking insane. He grumbled under his breath, climbing slowly up the stairs to check on Bobby. Jack fucking Twist. Left Ennis with the kid while he went out drinking. Ennis weren’t nobody’s wife. But still. He’d better make sure Bobby was still asleep, make sure their shouting hadn’t woken him.
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Jack threw his truck door open angrily. Damn him. Damn him to hell. What made him think he was so high and mighty? Goddamn. Man thought he was the fucking king of the world.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked. Jack deliberated a little. He’d still have to drive home. He glanced around while he thought. He was the only person here. Screw going home. If he got too drunk, he’d sleep it off in his truck. Show Ennis.
“Gimme the good stuff.” Jack said, voice harsh. His anger was rapidly dimming and giving way to despair. What if he and Ennis really couldn’t live together? Would he have to slink back to Lureen, tail between his legs? Would he really have to live without Ennis again? The bartender gave him a sad smile.
“Fight with your lady?” He asked knowingly.
“Um.” Jack licked his lower lip. “Yeah.” He shrugged. It was the same sentiment, right? And plus, he got a mean, satisfied feeling at calling Ennis a woman. Petty, he knew, but still.
“Well, son, whiskey ain’t gonna change that none.” Jack peered at him for the first time. He was old-had to be at least fifty. From Jack’s not-quite-twenty-two, that might as well be prehistoric.
“Might make me forget.” Jack said with a little shake of his head. “Come on, I need something good.”
“I ain’t got what you’re looking for.” His eyes were far away. “You already got it, son. The good stuff? You got it waiting for ya at home.” The man shuffled over and sat down by Jack, pouring them each a glass of Coke.
“Ned Thompson.” The barkeep stuck out his hand.
“Jack Twist.” They shook. Jack took a long swig of Coke. It was definitely not strong enough.
“Remember your first kiss with this gal?” Ned asked. Jack almost told him Ennis weren’t no gal. But he held his tongue.
“Yeah.” He said softly instead. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory. Lying in the tent, thinking about Ennis, wondering how the rest of the summer was going to turn out, scared as hell, and then that rush of intense, absolute joy when Ennis came in and kneeled in front of them. He remembered Ennis’s tentativeness, his own nervousness, and then every other feeling in the world melting away as their lips finally met. “Yeah, I do.” He repeated.
Ned nodded at him. “See?” He pointed at Jack’s smile. “You got yourself a good one. You kids married?”
“Um…” Jack didn’t know what to say. They weren’t; probably never would be. But wasn’t it kind of the same? Their living together, didn’t it mean they were forever? “Yeah.” He finally conceded. “Got a boy. Year old.”
“No shit?” Ned whistled. “Started young, eh?”
“Well, uh, we may not exactly gone in the right order, if you know what I mean.” Jack shrugged sheepishly. That part was completely true. Lureen’d been pregnant before they got married, but L.D. had insisted they married before the baby was born.
“Oh, I see.” Ned clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder for a minute. He felt very fatherly. Well, what Jack assumed fatherly felt like. If he’d been like Jack’s father, he probably would’ve slugged him for getting the girl pregnant.
“Sure you ain’t got anything stronger?” Jack asked hopefully. Ned shook his head.
“Son, your girl wouldn’t be too happy if you came home all drunk, now would she?”
Ennis would probably drink every last drop of alcohol in the house. If he got to be drunk, why didn’t Jack? He wondered how to tell Ned that.
“’Sides, you got a baby. Can’t be getting drunk all the time, now can you?”
Shit. Ennis wouldn’t be getting drunk off his ass with Bobby home alone with him, would he? Jack’s mind flashed on all of Ennis’s fatherly tendencies, his little smiles just for Bobby. Nope. He wouldn’t let himself get drunk.
“Guess not.” Jack admitted reluctantly. He saw a black and white picture on the wall; a girl, probably about Jack’s age, smiling sweetly. She was pretty beautiful, he had to say. Ned followed his gaze, and his eyes got soft.
“That’s my Nina.” He said. He looked into his Coke. “Right ‘fore we got married.”
“She’s real beautiful.” Jack reassured him.
“Sure was. Always was, right to the day she died.” He sounded only a little choked up.
“How’d she die?”
“Cancer.” Ned bit his lip. “Pretty painful. I got…I don’t think I stopped drinking that whole year after she went.” Jack nodded. When he first came back off Brokeback? Shit, he couldn’t even remember that whole first month.
“But I ain’t had a drop in three years.” Ned smiled proudly. “Know why?”
“Why?”
“Nina hated when I drank. And it’d be easy to think, well fuck, she’s gone now, ain’t she?” Ned chuckled. “She ain’t gone.” He touched his heart and was quiet. Jack got it.
“Anyway, I got to hold her hand as she went. And all those times we’d kiss, or I’d look at her and know she’s mine, or when I saw her holding out boys? That drunk is better than any whiskey ever given me. You know what I mean.”
Jack ran a finger around the rim of his glass. He did love to see Ennis playing with Bobby. And he certainly got all moony whenever Ennis kissed him. Yeah, he did know. And he thought of Ennis, sitting in the house, worrying over Jack. He stood up.
“Thanks, Ned. But, uh, I gotta…”
“Yep. You get on home. Now listen, she’s gonna start to cry when you get home.” Jack held back a snort. Ennis would not cry. “She’ll say she’s sorry. Don’t say anything ‘cept me too. Hear? Then kiss her and drink up.”
“Yessir.” Jack smiled and took out his wallet.
“No, no, no.” Ned held up his hands. “Don’t think so.”
“Aw, come on.” Jack needled. “You gave me the good stuff.” He smiled and dropped a few bills on the counter. Ned shook his head, but Jack wouldn’t take them back.
He walked in the door, and Ennis got up quick from the chair he was sitting in.
“Jack, where you been?” He put his hands on his hips to avoid grabbing Jack and holding him tight. He didn’t know if he was still mad or not. But Jack crossed the distance between them and wrapped Ennis into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Ennis.” He murmured. Ennis bit his lip.
“Me too.” His voice was muffled and he said it real quiet, hardly able to let it pass his lips, but he’d said it. Jack smiled and kissed him, long and slow and sweet, and then he let fly.
“I love you.” He whispered, for the first time. Ennis gulped. He kissed Jack again.
“Me too.”
It was more lip than spoken word, but Jack heard it. And he was drunk for weeks.