Two Crows Joy, Chapter 8
Yes, apparently hell HAS frozen over. Look! Pigs are flying!
Two Crows Joy
a "Brokeback Mountain" fanfiction by Mad Lori
Prologue -- Chapter 1 -- Chapter 2 -- Chapter 3 -- Chapter 4 -- Chapter 5 -- Chapter 6 -- Chapter 7
Alma washed her hands at the bathroom sink, then leaned a little closer to the mirror. She turned her head to one side, looking at the crow's feet that had taken up residence at the corners of her eyes. She was getting old, and no mistake. Her daughter was grown, her younger daughter nearly so, her boys going to be young men soon. She wasn't vain, but the signs of age weren't happy developments for anyone.
She thought of Bill, at his folks' house with the boys and Francine. She'd had a talk with him the night before and he'd told her that things were fine, just fine, and she'd heard all the questions he wanted to ask but didn't. What's it like there? Have you talked to Ennis much? How can you stand to be in the same house with that other man? Is Junior okay, or is she changing? She'd been circumspect and neutral. Yes, she was having a nice time. Yes, Ennis was being very civil and hospitable. Yes, Junior was just fine.
She sighed, shaking her head as if scolding her reflection. The memory of her conversation with Jack the night before was fresh and sharp. She wondered what the point of all that had been. Neither of them had said anything the other hadn't already known...well, apart from her spilling the fact that she'd seen them kissing all those years ago. She wondered if he'd told Ennis about that. By the ordinary way Ennis had treated her at breakfast she reckoned that he hadn't.
He'd said that they were the same. Was that so?
She dried her hands and headed into the hall with a sigh. She was approaching the kitchen when suddenly the back door banged loudly open and raised voices rang through the house, accompanied by heavy footsteps. "Lizzie!" someone shouted. "Lizzie, come quick!"
Alma heard Liz's running footsteps from the office. She inched forward, keeping to the shadows, and peeked around the doorway into the kitchen.
Jack was being half-carried to the kitchen table by two ranch hands. He was hatless and coatless, and his face was pale and sweaty. His right arm was covered in blood from what looked like a gash to his upper arm. Liz was calm, reaching under the sink for a first-aid kit. Alma watched as she quickly cut Jack's sleeve off. She handed a towel to one of the hands. "Put pressure on it. Damn, that's deep. Where's Ennis?"
"Up at the north paddock."
Liz leaned down and looked into Jack's face. "Are you dizzy?"
He shook his head, his jaw tight. "Nah. Prob'ly need stitches."
"Okay, you sit tight." She looked up at one of the men who'd brought Jack in. "Better tell Ennis. I'm going to call Peter."
"Jus' drive me t'the damned emergency room," Jack said.
"Peter's half a mile away, Jack. He can get here a lot faster than we can get you there."
"I ain't gonna bleed t'death!"
"Probably not, but if you need more than he can do here, we can skip the ER and go right to his office."
Jack fell silent. Alma watched from the shadows, unnoticed by anyone. She saw one of the men with a radio to his mouth, saying Ennis' name. She heard his voice answer. "Better come on down t'the house, boss," the man said.
"Why, what's wrong?" Ennis sounded suspicious already.
"Jack's hurt. Lizzie's called Peter."
"Is he okay?" She could hear a sharp note of alarm enter Ennis' voice.
"He'll live."
A brief pause. "What happened?" He sounded calmer now.
"I'll tell you when y'get here."
Alma heard Ennis' sigh over the radio. "Be right there."
Jack was gritting his teeth. "Get me some whiskey, Lizzie."
"Think that's wise?"
"Don't care."
Liz sighed, then reached into the liquor cabinet by the doorway and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. She poured him a belt and he knocked it back, grimacing. "Fuck, that hurts."
"What the hell happened?"
Jack shook his head. "Ennis'll wanna know too, and I don't wanna tell it twice."
She nodded. Alma heard the sound of hoofbeats outside, then footsteps on the porch stairs. Ennis entered the kitchen, tossing his hat aside. "What the hell's this, now?" he said gruffly, coming to the table to lean over Jack. Jack gingerly drew the blood-soaked towel back and showed Ennis the gash. Ennis hissed, wincing. "Goddamn, rodeo. What'd you go and do to yourself?"
Jack was growing paler by the minute. He opened his mouth to speak, then glanced up at one of the ranch hands. "Tell him, Ike."
Ike sighed. "Jack was helping us fix the wall in Clairie's stall, y'know where it was rottin' out and gettin' loose? He takes a step back and trips over the toolbox and fell against the wall where was some board leanin' with nails stickin' out of 'em."
Ennis's brow darkened. "And who the hell left boards with nails lying about where anybody could cut themselves or step on one? And who left the damned toolbox in the middle of the floor?"
"Calm down," Jack said. "It was an accident."
Ennis grumbled for a moment, then jerked his head towards the door. "All right, you all get back to work. But save the nail he cut himself on, doc might need it." The men made themselves scarce in a big hurry.
Liz checked the towel on Jack's arm. "I'm going to go have a look at that nail, maybe take a picture. Insurance, you know." She left, touching Jack's shoulder as she went.
Alma was feeling increasingly as if she shouldn't be watching this. I ought to make myself known. Maybe I could help. But curiosity was winning out over propriety. How did they interact when they were alone? How did Ennis treat Jack when he wasn't worried about appearances? She pressed herself further into the corner, shadowed and invisible, her view of the kitchen unobstructed.
Ennis crouched down by Jack's chair. "You all right?" Alma heard him ask in a softer voice.
Jack nodded. "I'll live."
"You're awful pale. You ain't gonna pass out on me, are ya?"
"Nah." Jack heaved a shaky sigh. "Hurts somethin' awful, though."
Ennis reached up and drew Jack's hand away from the towel, pressing his own to the makeshift bandage. Jack hissed. "Sorry," Ennis said. "Gotta be done."
Jack nodded again. "I know."
She saw Ennis's lip curl in a half-smile. "C'mon, buck up. Ain't you my tough guy?"
"You're the tough one. I'm the fun bit 'o fluff, remember?" Jack said. His voice sounded a little gaspy, but he managed a small smile.
Ennis adjusted the bandage, shaking his head. "You gotta be more careful, darlin'," he said. Alma felt a jolt pass through her at hearing Ennis speak the endearment. "What if that nail had gone into your eye, or your throat?"
"It's just a scratch."
"And it could get infected and cost you this arm or even kill you."
"Doc'll fix me up. Ranchin' ain't no work for pussies. I cain't tiptoe around this place watchin' for every stray nail and you know it. You been hurt, I been hurt, it's just part a the job."
Ennis sighed, looking up at Jack. Alma watched as Ennis raised a hand to Jack's face. She could see the way Jack sighed and relaxed into his touch. She wished she'd never started watching in the first place, but now she was stuck. She couldn't move without giving herself away. Ennis was stroking his thumb over Jack's cheek. "I know it's the job, but..." Ennis sighed. "It scares the hell outta me t'think a somethin' happenin' to you."
"Nothin's gonna happen to me." Jack shuddered visibly. "Damn, where's Pete? My whole damned arm's on fire." Alma silently told Ennis to put some ice on it, for Christ's sake, but he didn't make a move.
Ennis harrumphed. "Aw, quit your bellyachin'. Next you'll want me t'kiss it and make it better."
"Wouldn't say no."
She saw Ennis smile, then he leaned up and kissed Jack on the lips. Alma felt an unpleasant jolt pass through her at the sight of it. She'd never seen Ennis kiss no one else, let alone a man, and she'd never been this close to two men kissing before, so it was doubly disconcerting. But after a moment, what was even more disconcerting was the familiarity of it. The way their heads tilted automatically and the way Jack's hand went right to Ennis's neck; it was clear they were used to this. They did this a lot. That, somehow, was the worst part.
I gotta get outta here, she thought. But she could only think of one way to escape her hidden corner.
Alma shut her eyes, steeled herself, and walked right out into the kitchen. "Ennis, you ain't got no sense," she said, walking past him to the freezer. "You got that bleedin' stopped?"
There was a pause. She turned to see Ennis and Jack staring at her with matching expressions of surprise. "Uh...looks like it's slowin' down."
"Well, tie that bandage real tight." She dampened a clean towel and filled it with ice from the freezer. Ennis did as she said. Alma went to Jack's side and pressed the damp, cold compress to the wound. Jack hissed, then let out a long breath.
"Goddamn, that feels good," he gasped.
"Hold that there," she told Ennis. He replaced her hand with his own. Alma took a step back. "That's a powerful painful place to get cut."
"You think?" Jack exclaimed.
The front door opened and Peter came in, carrying his black doctor's bag. "Here I come to save the day," he said blandly, setting his bag on the table and moving to Jack's side. Ennis and Alma backed away to let him examine the wound. "Yowch," he said, making a face. "This is nasty, Jack."
"Oh good, cuz that's what I was goin' for. Nasty."
"You're going to need stitches." Peter drew a syringe and a small ampoule out of his bag. "This is an antibiotic. You've had your tetanus shots, haven't you?"
"I work on a fuckin' ranch, Pete. Course I got my tetanus shots." Jack grimaced as Pete injected him in the upper arm.
"Well, God knows what was crawling all over whatever cut you."
"A nail in a board from Clairie's stall."
Pete blinked. "That's bad. A lot of dirt and animal waste floating around in a stable. I'm taking you back to my office. God help us all if you get a staph infection. I'll have to clean this wound and suture it and it's going to hurt like hell."
"Great."
"C'mon, I'll drive." Jack rose slowly, holding the ice pack to his still-bleeding arm. Ennis moved to follow, but Jack shook his head.
"You stay here, babe."
"I'm comin' with."
"No, you ain't. Won't take more'n half an hour, no reason for you t'come along. And if Pete's gonna pour iodine or God knows what else in this cut and make me cry like a little girl I'd just's soon you not see it."
"I seen you cry like a little girl."
"Then I don't want you to see it again. I got an image to maintain, y'know."
Alma watched Ennis' face as he considered, then nodded. "All right, you go on then." He stood with arms crossed and watched as Jack and the doctor left the house, Jack still holding the compress on his wounded arm.
Ennis said nothing, just stood there staring into space. Alma cleared her throat. "He'll be fine," she said.
"I know that!" Ennis exclaimed, a little too quickly. "It's just a little cut on the arm!"
"All right, then! No need t'raise your voice!"
He sagged a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"That's fine. Come on, let's get some coffee." She went back to the kitchen, trying to be as casual and matter-of-fact as possible. She didn't want Ennis cottoning on to the fact that she'd been spying.
Ennis sat down at the kitchen table while Alma poured the coffee. She sat across from him and watched him stare at the mug.
The back door opened again and Liz came in, carrying a camera. She paused in the doorway. "Peter take Jack to his office?"
Ennis nodded. "Yeah."
Liz's eyes flicked from him to Alma and back again. "Well...I'll just be in the office, then."
"Okay."
She left them alone. Silence descended. Ennis took a sip of his coffee, then glanced around like he was looking for something. "Where's Junior?"
"She drove up to school. She said they were posting some test results and she wanted to see. Said she'd be back after lunch."
He nodded, turning the mug around and around. She watched him without looking at him, a skill she'd perfected during their marriage. She saw him square his shoulders and clear his throat in preparation to broach an uncomfortable topic. She had to marvel a little at the ease with which she could still read him.
"I hear you and Jack had a...talk last night,” he said.
She nodded. "We did."
"And, uh...how'd that go?"
"Ennis, you got things to ask me, you ask me straight out."
He looked up at her. "You knew, didn't you?" Alma blinked, taken aback. "You knew about me 'n him."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No, he didn’t tell me nothin’ a what you two talked about. I asked, but he said it was between you ‘n him.” Ennis hesitated. “I had my suspicions. That you knew, I mean." He sighed, no doubt noticing that she wasn’t contradicting him. "You did, then?"
Alma nodded. "I knew."
"Since when?"
She shot him a sharp look. "Since I saw you with your tongue down his damned throat in the stairwell that day he come to Riverton in '67."
Ennis sat back, sucking in a breath. "You saw that?"
"I did. You were doin' it right there on my doorstep, for Christ's sake."
He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Goddamn, Alma. I can't..." He met her eyes again. "You really knew? All that time, all them damned fishin' trips?"
"You always came back."
"Why didn't you ever...even in the divorce! You coulda said, and they'd..."
"What could I have said?" she said, hearing her own voice choking up and wishing to hell that time really did heal all wounds. "What would that have made me, Ennis? It's bad enough when it's another woman breaks up a marriage. I'd just have become that woman whose man was having an affair with another man. And what about Junior and Francie? All the kids knowin' their daddy was queer when they was still that young and tender? What would it have been like for them?" She saw the guilt and hurt coming into his eyes. That dark, black part of her soul reveled in it, wanted to pull it out of him and make him swim in it. The stronger part of her pushed it away, but it never would go far enough away that she couldn’t see it anymore. She shook her head. "No, I couldn't say nothin'. Anyways, if I'd said you were that way, they might not've let you see the girls." She sighed. "I couldn't do that to them. Or you. Even with everything else."
Ennis' eyes were misting over. "Thank you." She shrugged. "I don't know what else t'say."
A sharp spike of resentment ran up her spine and straightened her back. "If you don't know what else t'say then we got nothin' more t'talk about." She stood up and started past him to the back door.
Ennis caught hold of her wrist as she passed and held her back. She looked down at the top of his head. He was still staring into his coffee mug. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and quiet. Alma said nothing. He glanced up at her. "You got no idea how sorry I am."
Alma swallowed past the lump in her throat. "If I got no idea, it’s 'cause you ain't never said."
"I'm sayin' now." She saw his jaw clenching, then he looked up at her. "I never meant for none of this to happen, y'know."
She nodded. "I know you didn't."
"I ain't never wanted t'hurt you."
"Well, you did. I hope you don't never have to find out firsthand how much. But it's in the past, Ennis. Took me a long time t'stop hatin' you, but I did stop." He said nothing, but he wasn't letting go of her hand. Alma wavered on the edge of indecision. There was something she'd long wondered on, and this was her chance...but she also wondered if maybe she wasn't better off not knowing.
The devil you know, she thought, and plunged ahead. "Jus' one thing I'd like you t'answer for me, and I want the truth, now."
He nodded and met her eyes again. "Okay."
"Did you ever love me?"
He held her gaze for a long, agonizing moment. She could see in his eyes how much he really didn't want to answer her question. He sighed. "Yes.” He lowered his head again. “But not like I love him," he went on, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alma waited for the answer to bring her new pain, fresh resentment, but instead she felt...nothing. She only had to wonder why for a moment until it came to her that she'd already known. She'd just wanted to hear him say so. She nodded. "Thanks for tellin' me the truth."
"God knows I owe you that much."
"Yeah, you do. And there's somethin' else you owe me."
"What's that?"
She pulled her arm free from his grasp and went back to her seat at the kitchen table. She folded her hands before her and looked right into his face. "Tell me about it."
He frowned. "Tell you about what?"
"Everything. You and him. I think I have a right to know. How'd it start, what it was like, how you felt, the lies you told, the things I didn't see. I want to know."
He shifted in his chair. "Well...I guess..." He harrumphed. "It's kinda private."
"Private? You wanna talk about what's private to me, Ennis? The thing with you and him affected our whole lives. Even affected our sex life in a way I don’t think you need me to explain t’you. If you owe me an apology then you damn well owe me the truth, and don't you try and weasel out of it. Not this time."
Ennis looked like he was being pulled flat through the eye of a needle, and that suited her fine. "All right, Alma," he said, sounding tired. "You asked for it."
Jack clutched at the edge of Peter's examination table and gritted his teeth as the doctor sutured the edges of his wound. "Almost done," Peter said.
"It's about fuckin' time." He felt the needle bite and pull twice more, then he heard the snip of a scissors.
"There. All done. See? You didn't cry like a little girl."
"No?"
"No. I'd say that was at least the crying of a teenager, maybe even a college student."
"Hardy fuckin' har."
Peter secured a bandage over the wound. "So, how's this little holiday visit going?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "So far, so good."
"Can't be too comfortable."
"Ain't as bad as I thought it might be. She's bein' pretty calm, I gotta admit."
"What about you? Are you calm?"
"I do my best." Jack sighed. "I ain't never said this to Ennis, but sometimes I'm a little jealous of her."
"Why?"
"Well...she had him in a way that I never can. Y'know, out in the open, with the whole damned world's approval."
"Yeah, and look where it got them."
"I know what you're sayin', but still. It's hard not t'be bitter that no one would ever say nothin' against that marriage, which was a sham, but plenty of folks got lots t'say against ours, which ain't. Don't seem fair."
"Well, nobody ever said life..."
"Was fair, yeah, I know it ain't, but don't it seem like it oughta be?"
Peter smiled. "There are lots of things that oughta be." He helped Jack into his jacket. "You want a sling for that arm?"
"Nah, I got one at home. It'll be okay, I don't think I'll need it."
"Take the antibiotics for the full course, now. Don't skimp. If you see any redness or pus or feel any heat from the wound, you call me immediately."
"I know the drill." Jack stood waiting, but Peter was just sitting in his little wheelie chair. "Pete? We gonna sit here all day?"
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
Jack shrugged. "Sure."
"Do you think Liz would marry me?"
Jack grinned. "Don'tcha think you oughta be askin' her that?"
"I don't know. I'm...undecided."
"Well, you only been datin' her six months. That'd be enough for some folks, but I don't think you or Liz are among 'em. You know she rushed into marryin' Charlie. I'm guessin' it made her skittish."
"You don't know the half of it." Peter sighed. "I made a very tentative suggestion that sometime she might consider moving in with me, and she didn't take it very well at all."
"Then why you even thinkin' of proposin' if you know how it'd go down?"
"I just keep thinking maybe it'd be different if I had a ring, you know..."
"Well, with my ex-wife, jewelry did solve a lot of problems. Liz ain't like that, though."
"No, she isn't."
"Why you in such a goddamned rush, anyway?"
"I don't know! I just feel like nothing's official, like I don't have any real position or standing in her life."
"You got a position in her life, trust me."
"I'm too old to be a boyfriend."
"We'll think up another word, then. How about..." Jack thought for a moment. "Non-cohabiting life partner?"
Peter made a face. "That sounds like a category on a tax return."
"Pete, I'm a gay man. I'm an expert at thinking up euphemisms for a non-traditional relationship. Let's see...how about 'romantic cooperative participant?'"
Peter rolled his eyes. "You're not helping."
"Relationship co-sponsor?"
"I'm not listening to you."
Jack followed Peter out of the clinic. "But I'm jus' gettin' warmed up! Wait, I got it! Pre-matrimonial co-sleeper!"
Ennis was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked so long in one sitting, and to such a non-responsive audience. Alma had sat quietly while he told her the story of him and Jack. She knew the bare outlines, he was sure...Brokeback Mountain, 1963, postcards, fishing trips. But the bare outlines wasn't what she wanted to know. No, she wanted to know the goddamned truth. She wanted to know who started it, how long it took, if he felt guilty, if he'd been happy, if he'd considered not marrying her, if he'd thought about Jack in the four years they'd been separated.
He tried to be honest. He glossed over what he knew she didn't really want to know. He tried to put into words what he could barely hold in his own head. He hoped she got the picture from his inadequate description.
“Why’d you call him?” Alma asked, when he’d finished…well, not finished so much as run out of steam and things to tell.
“When?”
“When we got divorced. You said you never called him.”
“No, never did. Jus’ that one time.”
“Why?”
Ennis shrugged. “I don’t rightly know.”
“D’you think you were hopin’ he might show up?”
“I said I don’t know,” he groaned, weary of all this introspection. “Does it matter?”
She shrugged. “I guess not. Jus’ seems t’me that maybe you were tryin’ to make him do the work.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Well, if you called t’tell him you and I were divorced, didn’t you think he might jump in his truck and hightail it north? I barely know the guy and even I can see that’s somethin’ he’d do.”
“Yeah, it sure is.”
“Maybe you were thinkin’ you ‘n him might have a real shot, but you were too chickenshit t’say so, so you called him up figurin’ he’d do the heavy liftin’ of comin’ t’see you and draggin’ your ass into it.”
Ennis snorted. “Damn, that don’t paint me in much of a light.”
“If the shoe fits.” Alma had her forehead in her hand like her head was too heavy with all this new information for her neck to hold up. “Jesus Christ, Ennis,” she murmured. “I don’t know what t’say to all this.”
“You asked.”
“I know,” she said, irritably. He watched her working it out in her head. She dropped her hand to the table and looked at him again. “What was so goddamned special about him, anyway?” she asked, a plaintive note creeping into the question. Ennis wondered if this was the real question she’d been wanting to ask. “We were already engaged, Ennis! What was it about Jack Twist that turned you from me, from everything?”
“You ask me that like you think I know the answer,” Ennis said.
“You’ve sure had enough time to think on it.”
Ennis looked at her face, a face he’d known so young and fresh, etched now with faint worry-lines, some of which could likely be laid at his doorstep. He sighed. “Yeah, I’ve had enough time.”
“Can you tell me? Or is it one of those things cain’t be said?”
He leaned forward, surprised to find himself eager to make her understand. Maybe if she understood, all this would be easier. “He saw me,” Ennis said, quietly. He wasn’t sure he could really verbalize what he meant. “That was it. He really saw me.”
“I saw you.”
He shook his head. “You saw a man who’d work a job and give you babies and be your husband. You ain’t never seen me, Alma. You just saw how I’d give you an identity.”
He saw her face harden. “Awful fancy talk for a man never finished high school.”
“That don’t make me stupid. Or mean I cain’t learn.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. If that’s what I saw, what’d he see?”
Ennis leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Somebody with insides. And he asked me about them insides. Pretty soon he knew what was in here,” he said, tapping his forehead, “and he was the only one who ever did.”
She nodded, considering. “Is that really all there was to it?”
“More or less.”
“So it’s my fault for not seein’ some damned deep wells of meanin’ in you or somethin’?”
“It ain’t your goddamned fault, Alma. And maybe in the end there ain’t no reason, it just was and that’s that, and I’m tired of talkin’ about it. Ain’t you heard enough?”
She nodded. “I guess I have.”
A heavy silence fell in the kitchen. Ennis wanted to feel that something was resolved, that anything was improved, but he couldn’t be sure. At least his life was known to her now; that was something.
After a few long moments, he spoke again. “Alma…I sure wish you and Jack could be a little more friendly.”
“That’s an awful lot to ask of me.”
“Maybe, but I still wish for it.” He stared at the top of her lowered head. “He’s a good man, you know,” he said, quietly. “I still got a hope you could see that.”
“Junior sure seems to.”
“Junior sees good in everybody. But you’re right, she loves him.” Ennis sat up straighter and waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “Y’know what? Forget it. It don’t matter what you think of him, or if you’re friends. I already got more’n I ever expected with Junior, I cain’t ask for no more. You feel however you’re gonna feel and do what you like, Alma. I’m just glad we can be civil with each other.”
Alma met his eyes. “I’m glad of that, too.” She squared her shoulders. “And I’m glad we, uh…had this talk. I know you musta hated every minute.”
“I’m a bit easier talkin’ than I used t’be.”
“That’s for sure.” She smiled, a little sadly, then got up. “Let’s get lunch together. Junior’ll be back soon, and Jack too.”
Ennis watched her move purposefully around the large kitchen, the ghosts of her form in the cramped little apartments they’d lived in floating before his sight, Junior tugging at her skirt, wanting to be picked up. The life he’d had, lost, and then left behind for this new one.
Two Crows Joy
a "Brokeback Mountain" fanfiction by Mad Lori
Prologue -- Chapter 1 -- Chapter 2 -- Chapter 3 -- Chapter 4 -- Chapter 5 -- Chapter 6 -- Chapter 7
Alma washed her hands at the bathroom sink, then leaned a little closer to the mirror. She turned her head to one side, looking at the crow's feet that had taken up residence at the corners of her eyes. She was getting old, and no mistake. Her daughter was grown, her younger daughter nearly so, her boys going to be young men soon. She wasn't vain, but the signs of age weren't happy developments for anyone.
She thought of Bill, at his folks' house with the boys and Francine. She'd had a talk with him the night before and he'd told her that things were fine, just fine, and she'd heard all the questions he wanted to ask but didn't. What's it like there? Have you talked to Ennis much? How can you stand to be in the same house with that other man? Is Junior okay, or is she changing? She'd been circumspect and neutral. Yes, she was having a nice time. Yes, Ennis was being very civil and hospitable. Yes, Junior was just fine.
She sighed, shaking her head as if scolding her reflection. The memory of her conversation with Jack the night before was fresh and sharp. She wondered what the point of all that had been. Neither of them had said anything the other hadn't already known...well, apart from her spilling the fact that she'd seen them kissing all those years ago. She wondered if he'd told Ennis about that. By the ordinary way Ennis had treated her at breakfast she reckoned that he hadn't.
He'd said that they were the same. Was that so?
She dried her hands and headed into the hall with a sigh. She was approaching the kitchen when suddenly the back door banged loudly open and raised voices rang through the house, accompanied by heavy footsteps. "Lizzie!" someone shouted. "Lizzie, come quick!"
Alma heard Liz's running footsteps from the office. She inched forward, keeping to the shadows, and peeked around the doorway into the kitchen.
Jack was being half-carried to the kitchen table by two ranch hands. He was hatless and coatless, and his face was pale and sweaty. His right arm was covered in blood from what looked like a gash to his upper arm. Liz was calm, reaching under the sink for a first-aid kit. Alma watched as she quickly cut Jack's sleeve off. She handed a towel to one of the hands. "Put pressure on it. Damn, that's deep. Where's Ennis?"
"Up at the north paddock."
Liz leaned down and looked into Jack's face. "Are you dizzy?"
He shook his head, his jaw tight. "Nah. Prob'ly need stitches."
"Okay, you sit tight." She looked up at one of the men who'd brought Jack in. "Better tell Ennis. I'm going to call Peter."
"Jus' drive me t'the damned emergency room," Jack said.
"Peter's half a mile away, Jack. He can get here a lot faster than we can get you there."
"I ain't gonna bleed t'death!"
"Probably not, but if you need more than he can do here, we can skip the ER and go right to his office."
Jack fell silent. Alma watched from the shadows, unnoticed by anyone. She saw one of the men with a radio to his mouth, saying Ennis' name. She heard his voice answer. "Better come on down t'the house, boss," the man said.
"Why, what's wrong?" Ennis sounded suspicious already.
"Jack's hurt. Lizzie's called Peter."
"Is he okay?" She could hear a sharp note of alarm enter Ennis' voice.
"He'll live."
A brief pause. "What happened?" He sounded calmer now.
"I'll tell you when y'get here."
Alma heard Ennis' sigh over the radio. "Be right there."
Jack was gritting his teeth. "Get me some whiskey, Lizzie."
"Think that's wise?"
"Don't care."
Liz sighed, then reached into the liquor cabinet by the doorway and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. She poured him a belt and he knocked it back, grimacing. "Fuck, that hurts."
"What the hell happened?"
Jack shook his head. "Ennis'll wanna know too, and I don't wanna tell it twice."
She nodded. Alma heard the sound of hoofbeats outside, then footsteps on the porch stairs. Ennis entered the kitchen, tossing his hat aside. "What the hell's this, now?" he said gruffly, coming to the table to lean over Jack. Jack gingerly drew the blood-soaked towel back and showed Ennis the gash. Ennis hissed, wincing. "Goddamn, rodeo. What'd you go and do to yourself?"
Jack was growing paler by the minute. He opened his mouth to speak, then glanced up at one of the ranch hands. "Tell him, Ike."
Ike sighed. "Jack was helping us fix the wall in Clairie's stall, y'know where it was rottin' out and gettin' loose? He takes a step back and trips over the toolbox and fell against the wall where was some board leanin' with nails stickin' out of 'em."
Ennis's brow darkened. "And who the hell left boards with nails lying about where anybody could cut themselves or step on one? And who left the damned toolbox in the middle of the floor?"
"Calm down," Jack said. "It was an accident."
Ennis grumbled for a moment, then jerked his head towards the door. "All right, you all get back to work. But save the nail he cut himself on, doc might need it." The men made themselves scarce in a big hurry.
Liz checked the towel on Jack's arm. "I'm going to go have a look at that nail, maybe take a picture. Insurance, you know." She left, touching Jack's shoulder as she went.
Alma was feeling increasingly as if she shouldn't be watching this. I ought to make myself known. Maybe I could help. But curiosity was winning out over propriety. How did they interact when they were alone? How did Ennis treat Jack when he wasn't worried about appearances? She pressed herself further into the corner, shadowed and invisible, her view of the kitchen unobstructed.
Ennis crouched down by Jack's chair. "You all right?" Alma heard him ask in a softer voice.
Jack nodded. "I'll live."
"You're awful pale. You ain't gonna pass out on me, are ya?"
"Nah." Jack heaved a shaky sigh. "Hurts somethin' awful, though."
Ennis reached up and drew Jack's hand away from the towel, pressing his own to the makeshift bandage. Jack hissed. "Sorry," Ennis said. "Gotta be done."
Jack nodded again. "I know."
She saw Ennis's lip curl in a half-smile. "C'mon, buck up. Ain't you my tough guy?"
"You're the tough one. I'm the fun bit 'o fluff, remember?" Jack said. His voice sounded a little gaspy, but he managed a small smile.
Ennis adjusted the bandage, shaking his head. "You gotta be more careful, darlin'," he said. Alma felt a jolt pass through her at hearing Ennis speak the endearment. "What if that nail had gone into your eye, or your throat?"
"It's just a scratch."
"And it could get infected and cost you this arm or even kill you."
"Doc'll fix me up. Ranchin' ain't no work for pussies. I cain't tiptoe around this place watchin' for every stray nail and you know it. You been hurt, I been hurt, it's just part a the job."
Ennis sighed, looking up at Jack. Alma watched as Ennis raised a hand to Jack's face. She could see the way Jack sighed and relaxed into his touch. She wished she'd never started watching in the first place, but now she was stuck. She couldn't move without giving herself away. Ennis was stroking his thumb over Jack's cheek. "I know it's the job, but..." Ennis sighed. "It scares the hell outta me t'think a somethin' happenin' to you."
"Nothin's gonna happen to me." Jack shuddered visibly. "Damn, where's Pete? My whole damned arm's on fire." Alma silently told Ennis to put some ice on it, for Christ's sake, but he didn't make a move.
Ennis harrumphed. "Aw, quit your bellyachin'. Next you'll want me t'kiss it and make it better."
"Wouldn't say no."
She saw Ennis smile, then he leaned up and kissed Jack on the lips. Alma felt an unpleasant jolt pass through her at the sight of it. She'd never seen Ennis kiss no one else, let alone a man, and she'd never been this close to two men kissing before, so it was doubly disconcerting. But after a moment, what was even more disconcerting was the familiarity of it. The way their heads tilted automatically and the way Jack's hand went right to Ennis's neck; it was clear they were used to this. They did this a lot. That, somehow, was the worst part.
I gotta get outta here, she thought. But she could only think of one way to escape her hidden corner.
Alma shut her eyes, steeled herself, and walked right out into the kitchen. "Ennis, you ain't got no sense," she said, walking past him to the freezer. "You got that bleedin' stopped?"
There was a pause. She turned to see Ennis and Jack staring at her with matching expressions of surprise. "Uh...looks like it's slowin' down."
"Well, tie that bandage real tight." She dampened a clean towel and filled it with ice from the freezer. Ennis did as she said. Alma went to Jack's side and pressed the damp, cold compress to the wound. Jack hissed, then let out a long breath.
"Goddamn, that feels good," he gasped.
"Hold that there," she told Ennis. He replaced her hand with his own. Alma took a step back. "That's a powerful painful place to get cut."
"You think?" Jack exclaimed.
The front door opened and Peter came in, carrying his black doctor's bag. "Here I come to save the day," he said blandly, setting his bag on the table and moving to Jack's side. Ennis and Alma backed away to let him examine the wound. "Yowch," he said, making a face. "This is nasty, Jack."
"Oh good, cuz that's what I was goin' for. Nasty."
"You're going to need stitches." Peter drew a syringe and a small ampoule out of his bag. "This is an antibiotic. You've had your tetanus shots, haven't you?"
"I work on a fuckin' ranch, Pete. Course I got my tetanus shots." Jack grimaced as Pete injected him in the upper arm.
"Well, God knows what was crawling all over whatever cut you."
"A nail in a board from Clairie's stall."
Pete blinked. "That's bad. A lot of dirt and animal waste floating around in a stable. I'm taking you back to my office. God help us all if you get a staph infection. I'll have to clean this wound and suture it and it's going to hurt like hell."
"Great."
"C'mon, I'll drive." Jack rose slowly, holding the ice pack to his still-bleeding arm. Ennis moved to follow, but Jack shook his head.
"You stay here, babe."
"I'm comin' with."
"No, you ain't. Won't take more'n half an hour, no reason for you t'come along. And if Pete's gonna pour iodine or God knows what else in this cut and make me cry like a little girl I'd just's soon you not see it."
"I seen you cry like a little girl."
"Then I don't want you to see it again. I got an image to maintain, y'know."
Alma watched Ennis' face as he considered, then nodded. "All right, you go on then." He stood with arms crossed and watched as Jack and the doctor left the house, Jack still holding the compress on his wounded arm.
Ennis said nothing, just stood there staring into space. Alma cleared her throat. "He'll be fine," she said.
"I know that!" Ennis exclaimed, a little too quickly. "It's just a little cut on the arm!"
"All right, then! No need t'raise your voice!"
He sagged a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"That's fine. Come on, let's get some coffee." She went back to the kitchen, trying to be as casual and matter-of-fact as possible. She didn't want Ennis cottoning on to the fact that she'd been spying.
Ennis sat down at the kitchen table while Alma poured the coffee. She sat across from him and watched him stare at the mug.
The back door opened again and Liz came in, carrying a camera. She paused in the doorway. "Peter take Jack to his office?"
Ennis nodded. "Yeah."
Liz's eyes flicked from him to Alma and back again. "Well...I'll just be in the office, then."
"Okay."
She left them alone. Silence descended. Ennis took a sip of his coffee, then glanced around like he was looking for something. "Where's Junior?"
"She drove up to school. She said they were posting some test results and she wanted to see. Said she'd be back after lunch."
He nodded, turning the mug around and around. She watched him without looking at him, a skill she'd perfected during their marriage. She saw him square his shoulders and clear his throat in preparation to broach an uncomfortable topic. She had to marvel a little at the ease with which she could still read him.
"I hear you and Jack had a...talk last night,” he said.
She nodded. "We did."
"And, uh...how'd that go?"
"Ennis, you got things to ask me, you ask me straight out."
He looked up at her. "You knew, didn't you?" Alma blinked, taken aback. "You knew about me 'n him."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No, he didn’t tell me nothin’ a what you two talked about. I asked, but he said it was between you ‘n him.” Ennis hesitated. “I had my suspicions. That you knew, I mean." He sighed, no doubt noticing that she wasn’t contradicting him. "You did, then?"
Alma nodded. "I knew."
"Since when?"
She shot him a sharp look. "Since I saw you with your tongue down his damned throat in the stairwell that day he come to Riverton in '67."
Ennis sat back, sucking in a breath. "You saw that?"
"I did. You were doin' it right there on my doorstep, for Christ's sake."
He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Goddamn, Alma. I can't..." He met her eyes again. "You really knew? All that time, all them damned fishin' trips?"
"You always came back."
"Why didn't you ever...even in the divorce! You coulda said, and they'd..."
"What could I have said?" she said, hearing her own voice choking up and wishing to hell that time really did heal all wounds. "What would that have made me, Ennis? It's bad enough when it's another woman breaks up a marriage. I'd just have become that woman whose man was having an affair with another man. And what about Junior and Francie? All the kids knowin' their daddy was queer when they was still that young and tender? What would it have been like for them?" She saw the guilt and hurt coming into his eyes. That dark, black part of her soul reveled in it, wanted to pull it out of him and make him swim in it. The stronger part of her pushed it away, but it never would go far enough away that she couldn’t see it anymore. She shook her head. "No, I couldn't say nothin'. Anyways, if I'd said you were that way, they might not've let you see the girls." She sighed. "I couldn't do that to them. Or you. Even with everything else."
Ennis' eyes were misting over. "Thank you." She shrugged. "I don't know what else t'say."
A sharp spike of resentment ran up her spine and straightened her back. "If you don't know what else t'say then we got nothin' more t'talk about." She stood up and started past him to the back door.
Ennis caught hold of her wrist as she passed and held her back. She looked down at the top of his head. He was still staring into his coffee mug. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and quiet. Alma said nothing. He glanced up at her. "You got no idea how sorry I am."
Alma swallowed past the lump in her throat. "If I got no idea, it’s 'cause you ain't never said."
"I'm sayin' now." She saw his jaw clenching, then he looked up at her. "I never meant for none of this to happen, y'know."
She nodded. "I know you didn't."
"I ain't never wanted t'hurt you."
"Well, you did. I hope you don't never have to find out firsthand how much. But it's in the past, Ennis. Took me a long time t'stop hatin' you, but I did stop." He said nothing, but he wasn't letting go of her hand. Alma wavered on the edge of indecision. There was something she'd long wondered on, and this was her chance...but she also wondered if maybe she wasn't better off not knowing.
The devil you know, she thought, and plunged ahead. "Jus' one thing I'd like you t'answer for me, and I want the truth, now."
He nodded and met her eyes again. "Okay."
"Did you ever love me?"
He held her gaze for a long, agonizing moment. She could see in his eyes how much he really didn't want to answer her question. He sighed. "Yes.” He lowered his head again. “But not like I love him," he went on, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alma waited for the answer to bring her new pain, fresh resentment, but instead she felt...nothing. She only had to wonder why for a moment until it came to her that she'd already known. She'd just wanted to hear him say so. She nodded. "Thanks for tellin' me the truth."
"God knows I owe you that much."
"Yeah, you do. And there's somethin' else you owe me."
"What's that?"
She pulled her arm free from his grasp and went back to her seat at the kitchen table. She folded her hands before her and looked right into his face. "Tell me about it."
He frowned. "Tell you about what?"
"Everything. You and him. I think I have a right to know. How'd it start, what it was like, how you felt, the lies you told, the things I didn't see. I want to know."
He shifted in his chair. "Well...I guess..." He harrumphed. "It's kinda private."
"Private? You wanna talk about what's private to me, Ennis? The thing with you and him affected our whole lives. Even affected our sex life in a way I don’t think you need me to explain t’you. If you owe me an apology then you damn well owe me the truth, and don't you try and weasel out of it. Not this time."
Ennis looked like he was being pulled flat through the eye of a needle, and that suited her fine. "All right, Alma," he said, sounding tired. "You asked for it."
Jack clutched at the edge of Peter's examination table and gritted his teeth as the doctor sutured the edges of his wound. "Almost done," Peter said.
"It's about fuckin' time." He felt the needle bite and pull twice more, then he heard the snip of a scissors.
"There. All done. See? You didn't cry like a little girl."
"No?"
"No. I'd say that was at least the crying of a teenager, maybe even a college student."
"Hardy fuckin' har."
Peter secured a bandage over the wound. "So, how's this little holiday visit going?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "So far, so good."
"Can't be too comfortable."
"Ain't as bad as I thought it might be. She's bein' pretty calm, I gotta admit."
"What about you? Are you calm?"
"I do my best." Jack sighed. "I ain't never said this to Ennis, but sometimes I'm a little jealous of her."
"Why?"
"Well...she had him in a way that I never can. Y'know, out in the open, with the whole damned world's approval."
"Yeah, and look where it got them."
"I know what you're sayin', but still. It's hard not t'be bitter that no one would ever say nothin' against that marriage, which was a sham, but plenty of folks got lots t'say against ours, which ain't. Don't seem fair."
"Well, nobody ever said life..."
"Was fair, yeah, I know it ain't, but don't it seem like it oughta be?"
Peter smiled. "There are lots of things that oughta be." He helped Jack into his jacket. "You want a sling for that arm?"
"Nah, I got one at home. It'll be okay, I don't think I'll need it."
"Take the antibiotics for the full course, now. Don't skimp. If you see any redness or pus or feel any heat from the wound, you call me immediately."
"I know the drill." Jack stood waiting, but Peter was just sitting in his little wheelie chair. "Pete? We gonna sit here all day?"
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
Jack shrugged. "Sure."
"Do you think Liz would marry me?"
Jack grinned. "Don'tcha think you oughta be askin' her that?"
"I don't know. I'm...undecided."
"Well, you only been datin' her six months. That'd be enough for some folks, but I don't think you or Liz are among 'em. You know she rushed into marryin' Charlie. I'm guessin' it made her skittish."
"You don't know the half of it." Peter sighed. "I made a very tentative suggestion that sometime she might consider moving in with me, and she didn't take it very well at all."
"Then why you even thinkin' of proposin' if you know how it'd go down?"
"I just keep thinking maybe it'd be different if I had a ring, you know..."
"Well, with my ex-wife, jewelry did solve a lot of problems. Liz ain't like that, though."
"No, she isn't."
"Why you in such a goddamned rush, anyway?"
"I don't know! I just feel like nothing's official, like I don't have any real position or standing in her life."
"You got a position in her life, trust me."
"I'm too old to be a boyfriend."
"We'll think up another word, then. How about..." Jack thought for a moment. "Non-cohabiting life partner?"
Peter made a face. "That sounds like a category on a tax return."
"Pete, I'm a gay man. I'm an expert at thinking up euphemisms for a non-traditional relationship. Let's see...how about 'romantic cooperative participant?'"
Peter rolled his eyes. "You're not helping."
"Relationship co-sponsor?"
"I'm not listening to you."
Jack followed Peter out of the clinic. "But I'm jus' gettin' warmed up! Wait, I got it! Pre-matrimonial co-sleeper!"
Ennis was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked so long in one sitting, and to such a non-responsive audience. Alma had sat quietly while he told her the story of him and Jack. She knew the bare outlines, he was sure...Brokeback Mountain, 1963, postcards, fishing trips. But the bare outlines wasn't what she wanted to know. No, she wanted to know the goddamned truth. She wanted to know who started it, how long it took, if he felt guilty, if he'd been happy, if he'd considered not marrying her, if he'd thought about Jack in the four years they'd been separated.
He tried to be honest. He glossed over what he knew she didn't really want to know. He tried to put into words what he could barely hold in his own head. He hoped she got the picture from his inadequate description.
“Why’d you call him?” Alma asked, when he’d finished…well, not finished so much as run out of steam and things to tell.
“When?”
“When we got divorced. You said you never called him.”
“No, never did. Jus’ that one time.”
“Why?”
Ennis shrugged. “I don’t rightly know.”
“D’you think you were hopin’ he might show up?”
“I said I don’t know,” he groaned, weary of all this introspection. “Does it matter?”
She shrugged. “I guess not. Jus’ seems t’me that maybe you were tryin’ to make him do the work.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Well, if you called t’tell him you and I were divorced, didn’t you think he might jump in his truck and hightail it north? I barely know the guy and even I can see that’s somethin’ he’d do.”
“Yeah, it sure is.”
“Maybe you were thinkin’ you ‘n him might have a real shot, but you were too chickenshit t’say so, so you called him up figurin’ he’d do the heavy liftin’ of comin’ t’see you and draggin’ your ass into it.”
Ennis snorted. “Damn, that don’t paint me in much of a light.”
“If the shoe fits.” Alma had her forehead in her hand like her head was too heavy with all this new information for her neck to hold up. “Jesus Christ, Ennis,” she murmured. “I don’t know what t’say to all this.”
“You asked.”
“I know,” she said, irritably. He watched her working it out in her head. She dropped her hand to the table and looked at him again. “What was so goddamned special about him, anyway?” she asked, a plaintive note creeping into the question. Ennis wondered if this was the real question she’d been wanting to ask. “We were already engaged, Ennis! What was it about Jack Twist that turned you from me, from everything?”
“You ask me that like you think I know the answer,” Ennis said.
“You’ve sure had enough time to think on it.”
Ennis looked at her face, a face he’d known so young and fresh, etched now with faint worry-lines, some of which could likely be laid at his doorstep. He sighed. “Yeah, I’ve had enough time.”
“Can you tell me? Or is it one of those things cain’t be said?”
He leaned forward, surprised to find himself eager to make her understand. Maybe if she understood, all this would be easier. “He saw me,” Ennis said, quietly. He wasn’t sure he could really verbalize what he meant. “That was it. He really saw me.”
“I saw you.”
He shook his head. “You saw a man who’d work a job and give you babies and be your husband. You ain’t never seen me, Alma. You just saw how I’d give you an identity.”
He saw her face harden. “Awful fancy talk for a man never finished high school.”
“That don’t make me stupid. Or mean I cain’t learn.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. If that’s what I saw, what’d he see?”
Ennis leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Somebody with insides. And he asked me about them insides. Pretty soon he knew what was in here,” he said, tapping his forehead, “and he was the only one who ever did.”
She nodded, considering. “Is that really all there was to it?”
“More or less.”
“So it’s my fault for not seein’ some damned deep wells of meanin’ in you or somethin’?”
“It ain’t your goddamned fault, Alma. And maybe in the end there ain’t no reason, it just was and that’s that, and I’m tired of talkin’ about it. Ain’t you heard enough?”
She nodded. “I guess I have.”
A heavy silence fell in the kitchen. Ennis wanted to feel that something was resolved, that anything was improved, but he couldn’t be sure. At least his life was known to her now; that was something.
After a few long moments, he spoke again. “Alma…I sure wish you and Jack could be a little more friendly.”
“That’s an awful lot to ask of me.”
“Maybe, but I still wish for it.” He stared at the top of her lowered head. “He’s a good man, you know,” he said, quietly. “I still got a hope you could see that.”
“Junior sure seems to.”
“Junior sees good in everybody. But you’re right, she loves him.” Ennis sat up straighter and waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “Y’know what? Forget it. It don’t matter what you think of him, or if you’re friends. I already got more’n I ever expected with Junior, I cain’t ask for no more. You feel however you’re gonna feel and do what you like, Alma. I’m just glad we can be civil with each other.”
Alma met his eyes. “I’m glad of that, too.” She squared her shoulders. “And I’m glad we, uh…had this talk. I know you musta hated every minute.”
“I’m a bit easier talkin’ than I used t’be.”
“That’s for sure.” She smiled, a little sadly, then got up. “Let’s get lunch together. Junior’ll be back soon, and Jack too.”
Ennis watched her move purposefully around the large kitchen, the ghosts of her form in the cramped little apartments they’d lived in floating before his sight, Junior tugging at her skirt, wanting to be picked up. The life he’d had, lost, and then left behind for this new one.