(no subject)
The pines.
This is a very short piece I’ve written some time ago, thanks a lot to Sam for helping me with the translation from Italian and for her betaing.
I’ve also new developments in my other work, plus a new story to begin publishing.
Thanks to all of you readers for your support and comments.
Disclaimer: intellectual property of Ms. Proulx, no commercial use, no copyright infringement.
Ennis was coming back to the camp late in the afternoon, keeping his horse reined in.
Above him the light was still strong, passing across the roof of green; that part of the forest was deep, full of pines and nothing more. The needles were so close, fighting to survive just above Ennis’ head, while the lower branches were already bare.
He had to get back in time for dinner, or Jack would worry a lot, although there was that tension between them… and those words Ennis now regretted.
After a bout of intense passion, Ennis was embracing Jack’s back like a castaway in his life boat, Jack still inside him; his fingers were hard in Jack’s flesh, so smooth, so sweet, and Ennis said that this sex between them was the first he’d had in months.
Jack turned his head, asking for an explanation, while Ennis wanted to avoid it, because he felt compelled to say the truth. And the truth was that Alma had already banned him from any embrace, although not from their bed - but this only for the sake of the girls on Sunday mornings - saying that she didn’t want any more children with him, they were too poor to support one more.
Jack became furious, sliding from Ennis and wanting eye to eye contact.
Ennis cursed himself for being weak after making love; the reason was the bed, so small but so comfortable in the cabin they stayed in during that week. Too many soft things ruined men like him, men not used to the small luxuries of life.
Now the pines were surrounding him, he barely saw the path following the side of the hill, the slender tracing without trees, and it made him hope for an open space, a plateau; something that could free him from the dark and menacing trunks. Menacing like his own life. What could a man like him hope for but unskilled jobs, a barrenhouse and girls’ dresses bought in second hand stores.
A squirrel made a leap from a near branch. It was a little animal, shorter than its own tail, and jumped swiftly toward the higher branches, where there was a cone of light, a grey impalpable form. Ennis stopped his horse. It could be smoke and flames and danger, but there wasn’t the strong smell that always goes with fire.
Maybe it was only dust. The cone moved at the same pace as horse and horseman, transforming itself between the trees, that were surrounded by other transparent material and less intense light. Ennis moved back and forth, then stopped the horse and played with the shape of the cone, moving only his head.
He wanted to be back soon to tell Jack what he saw, always and only him in Ennis’ thoughts, but what if Jack laughed at him?
Thirty years lived in the middle of mountains and unable to remember a simple light effect?
Jack - though he never got a degree - knew so many things, maybe too many. Good things and also embarrassing ones; especially for Ennis, Jack once said. When something new entered their relationship, Jack quoted what men said at the club, smoking cigars, or showed Ennis some magazines with pictures of naked woman in classy attire.
Ennis wanted to believe Jack. He couldn’t accept that Jack’s experience was from something different from those pages or the fantasies of Lureen, who - during the first years of their marriage - had been the leader in the bedroom.
Then their fire died, only braces remained. Was that the reason Jack had insisted so much earlier, both asking for sex and offering his usual proposal? If they weren’t useful anymore for a woman, what else they could do? They could not live like monks 11 months a year for the rest of their lives.
Maybe Ennis didn’t want to accept Jack was right. He’d seen real anger on that handsome face - so important to him - while Jack repeated that it was their only possibility. How could they keep on living these lives when they were so wrong? Two jobs, one without satisfaction, one low wage; children never really desired; two wives bound by promises whose original meaning was lost years before.
“We could stay at the ranch for a while, my father needs help. Or nearer your girls.”
Jack’s voice softened.
“And your boy?” Ennis asked.
“Bobby won’t miss a father with Grandpa around and Lureen will keep him, that’s for sure.”
Surely now Ennis didn’t want any more children. He realised how lucky he had been with Alma not expecting again after he’d gotten Jack back.
But he was the one who had first turned toward the wall in the bedroom. Then Alma began to dress with less care, and worked extra shifts in the grocery; becoming less attractive to Ennis, and not only because she wasn’t Jack
But in the end no sex with Alma meant waiting for his man only, for those two or three short fishing holidays when they seldom went near a mountain river. And having sex only with Jack had its advantages; Ennis could value his fidelity.
For Jack it wasn’t enough. He again explained his point of view clearly; he wanted everything, he wanted a life somewhere only for himself and Ennis.
Ennis closed his eyes, it was a pleasant dream, into which one could easily dive.
He reached the cabin with the sunset light. He saw from a distance the redness of the fire and the familiar frame bent over it, cooking something.
When he heard the horse approaching, Jack stood up and first walked, then almost ran toward Ennis.
When he was fifty yards away, he called Ennis by his name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you before.”
Apologizing was hard for Twist, too, but the way he had spent the afternoon - all alone, with all the difficulties of being together for only a few days only -had been difficult and painful for Jack.
Ennis felt relieved. Everything was ok, he had been forgiven one more time.
Jack closed his eyes and felt the heat of the dry and calloused fingers he knew so well.
Later, sitting together near the fire - the weather in the place was very good for mid-May - they shared silence and occasional drinks from the bottle.
Ennis had just shaved quickly - in the morning he had left the cabin so angry he had forgotten to shave, and when he got back to the cabin this evening they had had something better to do, together. In the pale light of the small bathroom, he’d seen two deep lines at the corners of his mouth. He had never noticed them before, so he looked more closely. Hair cut randomly with kitchen scissors, other lines marking his forehead; but the calendar said thirty years, only thirty, and Jack hadn’t changed since that first summer.
Now, looking at Jack, Ennis understood that his doubts and fears were the reason for his lines; so he closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke.
“If you think we can really start something together, well, I guess we could try….”
The end.
This is a very short piece I’ve written some time ago, thanks a lot to Sam for helping me with the translation from Italian and for her betaing.
I’ve also new developments in my other work, plus a new story to begin publishing.
Thanks to all of you readers for your support and comments.
Disclaimer: intellectual property of Ms. Proulx, no commercial use, no copyright infringement.
Ennis was coming back to the camp late in the afternoon, keeping his horse reined in.
Above him the light was still strong, passing across the roof of green; that part of the forest was deep, full of pines and nothing more. The needles were so close, fighting to survive just above Ennis’ head, while the lower branches were already bare.
He had to get back in time for dinner, or Jack would worry a lot, although there was that tension between them… and those words Ennis now regretted.
After a bout of intense passion, Ennis was embracing Jack’s back like a castaway in his life boat, Jack still inside him; his fingers were hard in Jack’s flesh, so smooth, so sweet, and Ennis said that this sex between them was the first he’d had in months.
Jack turned his head, asking for an explanation, while Ennis wanted to avoid it, because he felt compelled to say the truth. And the truth was that Alma had already banned him from any embrace, although not from their bed - but this only for the sake of the girls on Sunday mornings - saying that she didn’t want any more children with him, they were too poor to support one more.
Jack became furious, sliding from Ennis and wanting eye to eye contact.
Ennis cursed himself for being weak after making love; the reason was the bed, so small but so comfortable in the cabin they stayed in during that week. Too many soft things ruined men like him, men not used to the small luxuries of life.
Now the pines were surrounding him, he barely saw the path following the side of the hill, the slender tracing without trees, and it made him hope for an open space, a plateau; something that could free him from the dark and menacing trunks. Menacing like his own life. What could a man like him hope for but unskilled jobs, a barrenhouse and girls’ dresses bought in second hand stores.
A squirrel made a leap from a near branch. It was a little animal, shorter than its own tail, and jumped swiftly toward the higher branches, where there was a cone of light, a grey impalpable form. Ennis stopped his horse. It could be smoke and flames and danger, but there wasn’t the strong smell that always goes with fire.
Maybe it was only dust. The cone moved at the same pace as horse and horseman, transforming itself between the trees, that were surrounded by other transparent material and less intense light. Ennis moved back and forth, then stopped the horse and played with the shape of the cone, moving only his head.
He wanted to be back soon to tell Jack what he saw, always and only him in Ennis’ thoughts, but what if Jack laughed at him?
Thirty years lived in the middle of mountains and unable to remember a simple light effect?
Jack - though he never got a degree - knew so many things, maybe too many. Good things and also embarrassing ones; especially for Ennis, Jack once said. When something new entered their relationship, Jack quoted what men said at the club, smoking cigars, or showed Ennis some magazines with pictures of naked woman in classy attire.
Ennis wanted to believe Jack. He couldn’t accept that Jack’s experience was from something different from those pages or the fantasies of Lureen, who - during the first years of their marriage - had been the leader in the bedroom.
Then their fire died, only braces remained. Was that the reason Jack had insisted so much earlier, both asking for sex and offering his usual proposal? If they weren’t useful anymore for a woman, what else they could do? They could not live like monks 11 months a year for the rest of their lives.
Maybe Ennis didn’t want to accept Jack was right. He’d seen real anger on that handsome face - so important to him - while Jack repeated that it was their only possibility. How could they keep on living these lives when they were so wrong? Two jobs, one without satisfaction, one low wage; children never really desired; two wives bound by promises whose original meaning was lost years before.
“We could stay at the ranch for a while, my father needs help. Or nearer your girls.”
Jack’s voice softened.
“And your boy?” Ennis asked.
“Bobby won’t miss a father with Grandpa around and Lureen will keep him, that’s for sure.”
Surely now Ennis didn’t want any more children. He realised how lucky he had been with Alma not expecting again after he’d gotten Jack back.
But he was the one who had first turned toward the wall in the bedroom. Then Alma began to dress with less care, and worked extra shifts in the grocery; becoming less attractive to Ennis, and not only because she wasn’t Jack
But in the end no sex with Alma meant waiting for his man only, for those two or three short fishing holidays when they seldom went near a mountain river. And having sex only with Jack had its advantages; Ennis could value his fidelity.
For Jack it wasn’t enough. He again explained his point of view clearly; he wanted everything, he wanted a life somewhere only for himself and Ennis.
Ennis closed his eyes, it was a pleasant dream, into which one could easily dive.
He reached the cabin with the sunset light. He saw from a distance the redness of the fire and the familiar frame bent over it, cooking something.
When he heard the horse approaching, Jack stood up and first walked, then almost ran toward Ennis.
When he was fifty yards away, he called Ennis by his name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you before.”
Apologizing was hard for Twist, too, but the way he had spent the afternoon - all alone, with all the difficulties of being together for only a few days only -had been difficult and painful for Jack.
Ennis felt relieved. Everything was ok, he had been forgiven one more time.
Jack closed his eyes and felt the heat of the dry and calloused fingers he knew so well.
Later, sitting together near the fire - the weather in the place was very good for mid-May - they shared silence and occasional drinks from the bottle.
Ennis had just shaved quickly - in the morning he had left the cabin so angry he had forgotten to shave, and when he got back to the cabin this evening they had had something better to do, together. In the pale light of the small bathroom, he’d seen two deep lines at the corners of his mouth. He had never noticed them before, so he looked more closely. Hair cut randomly with kitchen scissors, other lines marking his forehead; but the calendar said thirty years, only thirty, and Jack hadn’t changed since that first summer.
Now, looking at Jack, Ennis understood that his doubts and fears were the reason for his lines; so he closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke.
“If you think we can really start something together, well, I guess we could try….”
The end.