Ennis Dreaming
On a windy autumn night in 1985, near a grove of trees about an hour west of Riverton, Ennis del Mar slept fitfully on the narrow, rumpled bed in his trailer. He was having a dream in which he was back in the old apartment over the laundromat, looking out the window and filled with anticipation. A dark pickup truck drove slowly past, Jack at the wheel - but kept on going. An awful, familiar sadness came over Ennis, for he knew that he would never see Jack again.
He awoke in tears, grateful the dream had ended, startled to see a full moon shining down on him through the window. "Jack," he wondered, "is that you shinin' down on me?"He wiped his face with the sheet and reached down to stroke the rangy little tabby cat who had appeared at his door one afternoon. Ennis had named him Little Jack.
To comfort his troubled mind, Ennis closed his eyes again and sank into memories of good times up on Brokeback; feeling safe, loved, unashamed - feelings that Jack had stirred in him. Hard to believe he'd once felt so happy just to be alive, riding into camp on crisp mornings, eager for the taste of Jack's lips. He smiled to recall how shy and hesitant he had been at first over things Jack would do to his body; things Ennis had never imagined; having his ears kissed and nibbled, his armpits licked, his balls slurped and tongue-washed until Jack elicited the moans of pleasure from Ennis that he craved to hear. Ennis chuckled to remember that time he didn't know he was sporting a necklace of purple bite marks, and wondered why in hell the guy delivering supplies at the bridge kept looking at him funny. "I'll fuckin' get you for that, Twist." Jesus, there were nights when Jack swallowed him two and three times. Jack joked that he'd gone from "commutin' four hours a day to goin' down on Ennis three times a night."
No wonder it seemed he had a permanent hard-on up there; the inside of his leg always wet, watching the sheep but mind elsewhere.
In a kind of half-dream, he slid down into the blurred memory of a night on the mountain; hard rain pounding the tent, lying on his back, lips swollen from kissing, arms over his head while Jack, tongue drenched with Ennis' oozing fluid, licked the nests of golden armpit hair, then moved down to suck his sensitive nipples. "Oh fuck, Jack...Jack..."
Suddenly, Ennis raised up on the bed, breathing hard, eyes wide open. Had something moved, a shadow? Curtains blowing in the wind cast strange shapes on the wall; perhaps that's all it was - and yet, there was something - a presence - or so it seemed. The cat's green eyes, shining in the moonlight, stared intently at Ennis. Had he seen or heard something too?
"It's O.K. little guy," Ennis whispered, kneading the cat's bony back with his rough hand until purring filled the room. "Jack," he said to the darkness, "if you're here, I wish I could hold ya. God, I miss you. I'm tryin' ta hang on. I love you...I need ya to know that. Wherever you are bud, I hope yer safe and happy. G'night Jack."
He awoke in tears, grateful the dream had ended, startled to see a full moon shining down on him through the window. "Jack," he wondered, "is that you shinin' down on me?"He wiped his face with the sheet and reached down to stroke the rangy little tabby cat who had appeared at his door one afternoon. Ennis had named him Little Jack.
To comfort his troubled mind, Ennis closed his eyes again and sank into memories of good times up on Brokeback; feeling safe, loved, unashamed - feelings that Jack had stirred in him. Hard to believe he'd once felt so happy just to be alive, riding into camp on crisp mornings, eager for the taste of Jack's lips. He smiled to recall how shy and hesitant he had been at first over things Jack would do to his body; things Ennis had never imagined; having his ears kissed and nibbled, his armpits licked, his balls slurped and tongue-washed until Jack elicited the moans of pleasure from Ennis that he craved to hear. Ennis chuckled to remember that time he didn't know he was sporting a necklace of purple bite marks, and wondered why in hell the guy delivering supplies at the bridge kept looking at him funny. "I'll fuckin' get you for that, Twist." Jesus, there were nights when Jack swallowed him two and three times. Jack joked that he'd gone from "commutin' four hours a day to goin' down on Ennis three times a night."
No wonder it seemed he had a permanent hard-on up there; the inside of his leg always wet, watching the sheep but mind elsewhere.
In a kind of half-dream, he slid down into the blurred memory of a night on the mountain; hard rain pounding the tent, lying on his back, lips swollen from kissing, arms over his head while Jack, tongue drenched with Ennis' oozing fluid, licked the nests of golden armpit hair, then moved down to suck his sensitive nipples. "Oh fuck, Jack...Jack..."
Suddenly, Ennis raised up on the bed, breathing hard, eyes wide open. Had something moved, a shadow? Curtains blowing in the wind cast strange shapes on the wall; perhaps that's all it was - and yet, there was something - a presence - or so it seemed. The cat's green eyes, shining in the moonlight, stared intently at Ennis. Had he seen or heard something too?
"It's O.K. little guy," Ennis whispered, kneading the cat's bony back with his rough hand until purring filled the room. "Jack," he said to the darkness, "if you're here, I wish I could hold ya. God, I miss you. I'm tryin' ta hang on. I love you...I need ya to know that. Wherever you are bud, I hope yer safe and happy. G'night Jack."