Enough Time - Chapter 2
Genre: AU - Not Dead Jack
Summary: Based on the premise of the film Groundhog Day. Ennis relives one day over and over until he gets it right.
Update schedule: Every Friday until June 13th.
Thanks to rt_in_town for beta help and encouragement.
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
He awoke to snow. When he opened his eyes he was staring up at the canvas in the blue-gray morning light. His feet were freezing and an icy draft blew over his face. Even though he'd taken a long, hot shower before stretching out under a blanket on the couch, he still smelled like sheep. He touched his cheekbone but felt no pain. The dogs were curled up against his leg. Clutching the blanket to him, he trembled with cold and with fear. Something was very, very wrong. He was sure he'd left here and gone to his brother's house, not once but twice. When he shifted, he felt a lump in his side. Reaching into his right pocket, he fished out the beginnings of a horse he'd whittled from a piece of wood. He turned the wood in his fingers for a moment. Then he took out the knife, cut three deep grooves into the horse's side and put it and the knife into his left pocket.
Just then came the thump of a horse's hoof pawing at the ground. He crawled out of the tent and and got stiffly to his feet, gazed around at the frosted mountainscape and tried to detect any difference from the day before. Every single thing was the same: the veiled mountains, the grass whiskers in the snow. He whistled sharply and one of the dogs poked her nose out of the tent. At the sound of the bleating ewe her ears pricked up and she bounded away. Bending to the opening, he whistled again and after a few seconds the second dog stirred, stretched and scrambled out of tent. Ennis quickly saddled Cigar Butt and headed to the boulder. After the ewe and her lamb had been returned to the flock, he hurried the horse through the snow and down to Jack, reaching the camp site in time to see Aguirre talking to him, looming over him from the back of his gelding. When he stepped up next to Jack their boss gave Ennis a hard look.
"There's another storm comin in from the Pacific, worse than last night's. Pack up and bring 'em down." Aguirre shifted a toothpick in his teeth. "Honeymoon's over." Then he turned his horse and ambled back down the trail.
After they'd watched Aguirre disappear through the trees, Jack turned to look at Ennis, his face serious, staring into his eyes. The jolt of fear Ennis had felt run through him at Aguirre's parting words quickened his pulse, but he felt frozen, unable to think what to say or do as Jack stepped closer. Jack stretched his hand toward Ennis' face, then suddenly snatched his hat from his head and bolted past him toward the meadow. Ennis puffed out a laugh and chased after him, feeling the muscles in his face relax at last. It felt so good to smile again. He let Jack stay just ahead of him until they were a long way into the expanse of swaying grass, Jack dodging and darting as Ennis swiped at him, his black hat flying off into the alpine flowers. Finally Ennis lunged forward and grabbed Jack's shirt and they tumbled to the ground, the way he and KE used to play tag and fight when they were kids. And then oh god, he just couldn't stop that feeling rushing through him, that pulsing energy that made him want to pull Jack to him, different from that brother-fighting charge that gave strength to push and punch, which he'd felt that first day, when he'd fought Jack and been bloodied, and struck back. He bet he could've changed things that day if he'd said sorry, if he'd asked for a lift. They could have been friends. But then he couldn't think anymore, because Jack was on top of him, and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around his back, just naturally, and oh the need for that tongue sliding along his, yeah just like that, it had been so long, nearly three days since he'd had this, the sun smiling on them so warm, the earth so soft. Jack was grinding against him, moaning into his mouth, seemingly just as desperate for this kind of touching. Ennis rolled him so they were on their sides, reached down and struggled to open his jeans, Jack doing the same, and then they were both out and free. He couldn't focus on anything other than Jack's hand on him, his on Jack, their lips and tongues sliding and sucking... Oh... friend!
After their breathing returned to normal they lay on their backs, eyes closed to the mid-morning sun, Jack's hand over his, fingers loosely entwined. Ennis could hardly believe he'd awoken to frozen whiteness that morning. Some of the chill was still in him, though, because now he knew that simple friendship with Jack down on the plain was impossible. Just being near him in the real world would remind him of this place, where no touch was wrong. If someone like Aguirre could see it in them with just one glance, well, what possible chance could they have down there? He would treat this time as the gift it was, this meadow heaven upon heaven. He felt Jack shift and the red behind his eyelids darkened as his head cast a shadow on Ennis' face.
"You know it could be like this, just like this, always."
Ennis pulled Jack down to him and squeezed him, buried his face in his neck and smelled sheep and horse and grass and sweat. "Maybe it will be," he whispered.
Jack was cheerful, whistling and joking all the way down, not seeming to care that Ennis was silent. Ennis cringed even more as Aguirre berated them but Jack just smoked unperturbedly, gazing up at the peaks. At the truck, Ennis spent several minutes bent under the hood, stalling, dreading to meet Jack's eyes. Jack seemed to sense something was wrong because he didn't smile when the engine turned over. He got out of the truck and shut the door gently, leaving his fingers on the handle, thumb smoothing the hot metal, back and forth. Ennis leaned back against the hood and kept his eyes on the ground, scuffing his boot in the dirt.
"So. We got some extra time on our hands," Jack said lightly. "Thinkin maybe we could look round see if any ranches needed some extra hands for a month or two, make up for the pay we lost."
There it was. Last night he would've been OK with that, thought it might work. After a long moment Ennis took a deep breath and glanced at Jack but couldn't hold his gaze. "I gotta find somethin permanent near Riverton. Gettin married an all... "
"But I thought..." Jack began weakly.
"Won't work, Jack," Ennis rushed on. "It's... I gotta..." He twisted the potato sack in his hands. "I'll see y'around," he choked out and pushed away from the truck, propelling himself onto the street. He sped up until he was almost running, but didn't hear the sound of the truck door slamming. After a minute he slowed and glanced back. Jack was on his knees by his truck, bent double, clutching his stomach, and the man who'd checked on Ennis was leaning over him.
He sprinted to the junction then, desperate to get away, trying to wipe that last sight of Jack from his mind, and started walking south. When he'd gone a couple hundred yards he stopped and looked back. Jack's truck came roaring up to the junction and whipped into the turn toward the north, gravel flying out from the wheels. Ennis stared after it, his throat so tight he could barely breathe and his eyes stinging. He felt he was living an endless nightmare he couldn't wake from, that got worse each day except for that morning's one bright interlude.
He heard the 18-wheeler coming but didn't turn or stick out his thumb. He let several other vehicles pass him by until he heard and then saw the black pickup approaching at last. Please let it be Jack. Please don't let it be Jack.
It wasn't Jack. The same man leaned across the seat and asked where Ennis was going. Ennis told him, and got in the truck.
"You smell like sheep." The man said without judgment, and again there was that accent.
"I was herdin more'n a thousand of 'em for the summer."
"Summer is not over."
"Storm comin. Had to bring 'em down early."
"I did that when I first came out here," the man said. "I helped my cousin but I was useless, even for cooking. But at least my cousin was not alone."
Ennis stared out of his window.
"What will you do now?"
Ennis looked down at the bag in his hands. He had nothing from Jack this time, not even a bruise. "Gettin married soon so guess I'll look for somethin on a ranch round Riverton."
"My cousin's ranch needs help but it's no place for a family man. Too far from anything."
"Your cousin from around here, then?"
"He is an orphan and was taken in by a couple here when he was 12 years old."
"Your folks couldn't take him?"
"My parents were also dead."
"You live there, too?"
"Yes."
He kept asking questions because talking to this man took his mind off Jack, but only some.
"Married?"
The man was silent for a long moment while he one-handedly drew out a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, extracted one, put it in his mouth, replaced the pack, then fished a small box of matches from his pocket. With one hand he nimbly opened the box, dug out a match stick, closed the box and scratched the match head along the side. After lighting the cigarette he blew out the match and flicked it away. "Oh," he said, glancing at Ennis. "I should have asked you if you wanted one. Do you?"
Ennis hadn't had a smoke since they'd brought the sheep down; he nodded. The man went through all the steps again, so that he had two cigarettes between his lips as he lit up, then passed one to Ennis.
"What was your question again?"
"Nothin."
They smoked in silence after that. When he'd finished the cigarette Ennis flicked the butt onto the road and rolled up the window, leaned his head on the glass and dozed off. When he awoke the truck was stopped in front of the Esso station, the sun hovering above the distant peaks.
"We're in Riverton. You OK getting out here?"
"Yeah, thanks." He watched the truck turn around and return the way they'd come.
He walked through town until he reached KE's house and knocked on the door. Peggy greeted him with the baby in her arms.
"Ennis! Thought you were gonna be away until middle of next month. KE's not back from the lumber yard but come in." She looked at him closely with those piercing eyes. "Looks like the mountain life was good for ya. Need a shower, though. You hungry?" she asked as she turned to let him in.
He mumbled something affirmative as he entered and then sank onto the couch. His sister-in-law set her daughter down on the other end and went into the kitchen. Ennis and the baby stared at each other; he was relieved she'd inherited the Del Mar eyes. Peggy soon returned with a ham sandwich and a beer.
"Went into Woolworth's today to see the girls and show off Melissa," she said as she picked up her daughter and sat down opposite him. "Alma was askin about you, if we'd heard anything. Reminded her you didn't have a phone or mail service up there."
He chewed a mouthful of sandwich slowly, delaying his reply. The reality of Alma hit him like a powdery snowball and the empty feeling in his gut was no longer due to hunger. She was the reason he'd... no, not the reason. There was another word that meant almost that, he'd learned it in school, it started with R, too. But he was too tired to think about the meanings of words. He watched the baby lying back against Peggy's chest, sucking her thumb, eyelids drooping, and imagined the warmth radiating off her, just like... maybe that kind of easy holding could fill the space in his heart. Would be someone who was part of him and belonged to him, no questions asked.
"Guess I'll go see her tomorrow," he said at last. There was always the chance that tomorrow wouldn't come.
The driver
From In the American West by Richard Avedon
Summary: Based on the premise of the film Groundhog Day. Ennis relives one day over and over until he gets it right.
Update schedule: Every Friday until June 13th.
Thanks to rt_in_town for beta help and encouragement.
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
He awoke to snow. When he opened his eyes he was staring up at the canvas in the blue-gray morning light. His feet were freezing and an icy draft blew over his face. Even though he'd taken a long, hot shower before stretching out under a blanket on the couch, he still smelled like sheep. He touched his cheekbone but felt no pain. The dogs were curled up against his leg. Clutching the blanket to him, he trembled with cold and with fear. Something was very, very wrong. He was sure he'd left here and gone to his brother's house, not once but twice. When he shifted, he felt a lump in his side. Reaching into his right pocket, he fished out the beginnings of a horse he'd whittled from a piece of wood. He turned the wood in his fingers for a moment. Then he took out the knife, cut three deep grooves into the horse's side and put it and the knife into his left pocket.
Just then came the thump of a horse's hoof pawing at the ground. He crawled out of the tent and and got stiffly to his feet, gazed around at the frosted mountainscape and tried to detect any difference from the day before. Every single thing was the same: the veiled mountains, the grass whiskers in the snow. He whistled sharply and one of the dogs poked her nose out of the tent. At the sound of the bleating ewe her ears pricked up and she bounded away. Bending to the opening, he whistled again and after a few seconds the second dog stirred, stretched and scrambled out of tent. Ennis quickly saddled Cigar Butt and headed to the boulder. After the ewe and her lamb had been returned to the flock, he hurried the horse through the snow and down to Jack, reaching the camp site in time to see Aguirre talking to him, looming over him from the back of his gelding. When he stepped up next to Jack their boss gave Ennis a hard look.
"There's another storm comin in from the Pacific, worse than last night's. Pack up and bring 'em down." Aguirre shifted a toothpick in his teeth. "Honeymoon's over." Then he turned his horse and ambled back down the trail.
After they'd watched Aguirre disappear through the trees, Jack turned to look at Ennis, his face serious, staring into his eyes. The jolt of fear Ennis had felt run through him at Aguirre's parting words quickened his pulse, but he felt frozen, unable to think what to say or do as Jack stepped closer. Jack stretched his hand toward Ennis' face, then suddenly snatched his hat from his head and bolted past him toward the meadow. Ennis puffed out a laugh and chased after him, feeling the muscles in his face relax at last. It felt so good to smile again. He let Jack stay just ahead of him until they were a long way into the expanse of swaying grass, Jack dodging and darting as Ennis swiped at him, his black hat flying off into the alpine flowers. Finally Ennis lunged forward and grabbed Jack's shirt and they tumbled to the ground, the way he and KE used to play tag and fight when they were kids. And then oh god, he just couldn't stop that feeling rushing through him, that pulsing energy that made him want to pull Jack to him, different from that brother-fighting charge that gave strength to push and punch, which he'd felt that first day, when he'd fought Jack and been bloodied, and struck back. He bet he could've changed things that day if he'd said sorry, if he'd asked for a lift. They could have been friends. But then he couldn't think anymore, because Jack was on top of him, and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around his back, just naturally, and oh the need for that tongue sliding along his, yeah just like that, it had been so long, nearly three days since he'd had this, the sun smiling on them so warm, the earth so soft. Jack was grinding against him, moaning into his mouth, seemingly just as desperate for this kind of touching. Ennis rolled him so they were on their sides, reached down and struggled to open his jeans, Jack doing the same, and then they were both out and free. He couldn't focus on anything other than Jack's hand on him, his on Jack, their lips and tongues sliding and sucking... Oh... friend!
After their breathing returned to normal they lay on their backs, eyes closed to the mid-morning sun, Jack's hand over his, fingers loosely entwined. Ennis could hardly believe he'd awoken to frozen whiteness that morning. Some of the chill was still in him, though, because now he knew that simple friendship with Jack down on the plain was impossible. Just being near him in the real world would remind him of this place, where no touch was wrong. If someone like Aguirre could see it in them with just one glance, well, what possible chance could they have down there? He would treat this time as the gift it was, this meadow heaven upon heaven. He felt Jack shift and the red behind his eyelids darkened as his head cast a shadow on Ennis' face.
"You know it could be like this, just like this, always."
Ennis pulled Jack down to him and squeezed him, buried his face in his neck and smelled sheep and horse and grass and sweat. "Maybe it will be," he whispered.
Jack was cheerful, whistling and joking all the way down, not seeming to care that Ennis was silent. Ennis cringed even more as Aguirre berated them but Jack just smoked unperturbedly, gazing up at the peaks. At the truck, Ennis spent several minutes bent under the hood, stalling, dreading to meet Jack's eyes. Jack seemed to sense something was wrong because he didn't smile when the engine turned over. He got out of the truck and shut the door gently, leaving his fingers on the handle, thumb smoothing the hot metal, back and forth. Ennis leaned back against the hood and kept his eyes on the ground, scuffing his boot in the dirt.
"So. We got some extra time on our hands," Jack said lightly. "Thinkin maybe we could look round see if any ranches needed some extra hands for a month or two, make up for the pay we lost."
There it was. Last night he would've been OK with that, thought it might work. After a long moment Ennis took a deep breath and glanced at Jack but couldn't hold his gaze. "I gotta find somethin permanent near Riverton. Gettin married an all... "
"But I thought..." Jack began weakly.
"Won't work, Jack," Ennis rushed on. "It's... I gotta..." He twisted the potato sack in his hands. "I'll see y'around," he choked out and pushed away from the truck, propelling himself onto the street. He sped up until he was almost running, but didn't hear the sound of the truck door slamming. After a minute he slowed and glanced back. Jack was on his knees by his truck, bent double, clutching his stomach, and the man who'd checked on Ennis was leaning over him.
He sprinted to the junction then, desperate to get away, trying to wipe that last sight of Jack from his mind, and started walking south. When he'd gone a couple hundred yards he stopped and looked back. Jack's truck came roaring up to the junction and whipped into the turn toward the north, gravel flying out from the wheels. Ennis stared after it, his throat so tight he could barely breathe and his eyes stinging. He felt he was living an endless nightmare he couldn't wake from, that got worse each day except for that morning's one bright interlude.
He heard the 18-wheeler coming but didn't turn or stick out his thumb. He let several other vehicles pass him by until he heard and then saw the black pickup approaching at last. Please let it be Jack. Please don't let it be Jack.
It wasn't Jack. The same man leaned across the seat and asked where Ennis was going. Ennis told him, and got in the truck.
"You smell like sheep." The man said without judgment, and again there was that accent.
"I was herdin more'n a thousand of 'em for the summer."
"Summer is not over."
"Storm comin. Had to bring 'em down early."
"I did that when I first came out here," the man said. "I helped my cousin but I was useless, even for cooking. But at least my cousin was not alone."
Ennis stared out of his window.
"What will you do now?"
Ennis looked down at the bag in his hands. He had nothing from Jack this time, not even a bruise. "Gettin married soon so guess I'll look for somethin on a ranch round Riverton."
"My cousin's ranch needs help but it's no place for a family man. Too far from anything."
"Your cousin from around here, then?"
"He is an orphan and was taken in by a couple here when he was 12 years old."
"Your folks couldn't take him?"
"My parents were also dead."
"You live there, too?"
"Yes."
He kept asking questions because talking to this man took his mind off Jack, but only some.
"Married?"
The man was silent for a long moment while he one-handedly drew out a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, extracted one, put it in his mouth, replaced the pack, then fished a small box of matches from his pocket. With one hand he nimbly opened the box, dug out a match stick, closed the box and scratched the match head along the side. After lighting the cigarette he blew out the match and flicked it away. "Oh," he said, glancing at Ennis. "I should have asked you if you wanted one. Do you?"
Ennis hadn't had a smoke since they'd brought the sheep down; he nodded. The man went through all the steps again, so that he had two cigarettes between his lips as he lit up, then passed one to Ennis.
"What was your question again?"
"Nothin."
They smoked in silence after that. When he'd finished the cigarette Ennis flicked the butt onto the road and rolled up the window, leaned his head on the glass and dozed off. When he awoke the truck was stopped in front of the Esso station, the sun hovering above the distant peaks.
"We're in Riverton. You OK getting out here?"
"Yeah, thanks." He watched the truck turn around and return the way they'd come.
He walked through town until he reached KE's house and knocked on the door. Peggy greeted him with the baby in her arms.
"Ennis! Thought you were gonna be away until middle of next month. KE's not back from the lumber yard but come in." She looked at him closely with those piercing eyes. "Looks like the mountain life was good for ya. Need a shower, though. You hungry?" she asked as she turned to let him in.
He mumbled something affirmative as he entered and then sank onto the couch. His sister-in-law set her daughter down on the other end and went into the kitchen. Ennis and the baby stared at each other; he was relieved she'd inherited the Del Mar eyes. Peggy soon returned with a ham sandwich and a beer.
"Went into Woolworth's today to see the girls and show off Melissa," she said as she picked up her daughter and sat down opposite him. "Alma was askin about you, if we'd heard anything. Reminded her you didn't have a phone or mail service up there."
He chewed a mouthful of sandwich slowly, delaying his reply. The reality of Alma hit him like a powdery snowball and the empty feeling in his gut was no longer due to hunger. She was the reason he'd... no, not the reason. There was another word that meant almost that, he'd learned it in school, it started with R, too. But he was too tired to think about the meanings of words. He watched the baby lying back against Peggy's chest, sucking her thumb, eyelids drooping, and imagined the warmth radiating off her, just like... maybe that kind of easy holding could fill the space in his heart. Would be someone who was part of him and belonged to him, no questions asked.
"Guess I'll go see her tomorrow," he said at last. There was always the chance that tomorrow wouldn't come.
The driver
From In the American West by Richard Avedon