Introducing the "Jack with Ennis" Fan Fic Game - the BetterMost Edition

[Toycoon]

Ennis read the words again, “BE MINE.”  “I’M YOURS” Ennis whispered into the card.  He closed his eyes and wished he could tell Jack that he belonged only to him – would never belong to anyone else.  Ennis fell asleep, a silly card over his face, a smile on his lips.

You are so good, Littlewing. Love your valentine.

oooxxx, Toycoon

[Luvlylittlewing]

You are so good, Littlewing. Love your valentine.

oooxxx, Toycoon

Thanks, Babe!

[Luvlylittlewing]

No Better than He by Littlewing1957

Jack was never once invited to Ennis’ trailer, but he could image the place.  Knowing Ennis, it was bare and bleak.  Jack never knew Ennis to concern himself with decorations or creature comforts.  Jack could see, in his mind’s eyes, a dwelling sparsely furnished with cheap but clean furniture, a calendar on the wall, and perhaps a battery powered clock.  He would be surprised to see throw rugs or an afghan.  Yes, Jack could picture Ennis’ place.  His home, by contrast, was decorated by a high maintenance girly girl.  It was luxurious by Ennis and Jack’s standards.  But with all of the comfort and beauty, Jack’s home lacked warmth.  Jack looked at Ennis as he slept and knew that he would trade everything he owned in Childress for the warmth of a cold trailer in Riverton.

Jack raised Ennis’ calloused right hand and rubbed it gently.  Ennis' hands were often cracked from being out in the cold, tending to livestock.  He had a man’s hands!  They were responsible, no nonsense, unapologetically rough and scraggly.  Jack remembered Ennis complaining that his hands got so dry in the cold that they often bled.  Jack contrasted his hands with his lover’s.  There was really no comparison.  Lureen insisted that Jack get regular manicures, as he represented Newsome Motors.  His hands needed to look good handing contracts to customers.  And his hands didn’t do much more than point to the fine print on a contract, or type in numbers on an adding machine.  Jack held his smooth, shiny hand next to Ennis’ weather-worn one.  He smiled as he imaged his hand caressing, soothing, and healing the other.

Jack pulled Ennis closer.  Ennis didn’t stir.  Jack looked at his lovers features, almost serene in sleep.  Jack thought about Ennis returning in a few days to a job that paid little, but gave him a measure of pride and accomplishment.  Ennis was doing what he liked to do.  Jack didn’t want to, but he thought ahead to the next few days when the Newsome’s would replenish their stock of tractors.  He would be required to work hard in the next few weeks.  It was boring, unsatisfactory work.  Jack hated what he did, but he was paid very well to sell tractors to rude, uncouth ranchers.  “I’m making a lot of money, but I’m no better than you, Ennis!” Jack whispered in his lover’s ear.  Ennis didn’t hear.  “Let me come with you, Cowboy - let me stay!”  Jack was fighting back tears.  Ennis slept on.  Jack pulled Ennis a bit closer and tried to sleep.

[Toycoon]

Everyone should be working on an afghan, Littlewing! 

[Luvlylittlewing]

Everyone should be working on an afghan, Littlewing! 

        

[Toycoon]

Right 78 by Toycoon

There was no doubt, Leroy Tippens was in a lot of pain. It was a toxic combination of alcohol, shame, frustration, humiliation and rejection and it hurt like a bastard. All he could think of is how stupid he felt, laying on the ground in that way among the pieces of the wooden table, the spilled punch and the party snacks. Even the effects of mash whiskey had worn off by now. Leroy's nose was broken by a left hook in front of all the guests at the dance and by a woman, no less. Leroy sat on the hospital bed in his damp, filthy, rented tuxedo and wondered how he came to be in this predicament. His grandpa and grandma would be angry that he was in trouble again. An older, matronly woman with graying hair, the nurse on duty was tending to Leroy's broken nose but there was little she could do for the boy's internal wounds. The nurse gently patted the edge of the gauze bandage, cocked her head, then stood back to admire her work. Leroy was quite a sight with all the bandages on his face and the frosting smeared on his coat. She steadied Leroy's face with her hands and declared, "Well young man, that oughta stay put for the night. The doctor wants to see ya back on Tuesday. No more drinkin' for tonight, ya hear me now." Leroy just nodded his head. The nurse put her hand on his broad shoulder and rubbed it softly, then gathered up her supplies and walked away.

"Nobody gets away with that shit', thought Leroy, rubbing his throbbing head and still thinking of the humiliation he suffered at the party. "Nobody." The pain of the swollen nose was starting to set in. "Especially, a little nobody like Raquel' She ain't got no right ta' slug me like that. Alan! Gimme a sip uh that whiskey!" He glanced over to Alan who had come to offer Leroy, a ride home. Alan had just dropped off his 'date' from the dance and noticed that the light was on at Katie's shop. He told Leroy that he'd overheard Raquel mention that she, Ennis, Jack and Katie were all going to Katie's shop, 'Preen'  to continue the party. Leroy took a big gulp of the whiskey and wiped his mouth. He handed the bottle back to Alan, who took a smaller swig then put it back in his tuxedo pocket. "Ya know what?" blurted out Leroy. "We're gonna go over there ta Katie's shop and continue the party, too! I gotta little unfinished business wit' them!" Alan looked worried. Leroy had a raging temper. Leroy had seen it many times and it scared him. Alan had already said too many personal things that he should have never said about Jack, Ennis and about himself. He was in deep now. "Leroy, the doctor said you shouldn't drink no more, c'mon lemme take you home. I promise to make you feel good, OK?" Alan mopped the beads of sweat forming on his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket.

Leroy lunged at Alan, grabbing him by his shirt collar, yanking him up then shook him violently. "Listen to me you little queer, I'm gonna get that goddamn bitch, Rockie, she'll be sorry! " he hissed. "First, yer gonna drive me by my house to get my gun, then we gonna take a ride over ta that shop." Leroy's eyes glowed with venomous fury. "She's gonna pay for what she done alright!"

[Luvlylittlewing]

Poor Jack.  What a bittersweet moment.  Jack is so open to his love for Ennis, but at the same time he feels rejected.  I really liked the part about Ennis's sexy hands.

Gary

Why thanks, Gary!  I'm always drawn to the boys' hands.  I'm not sure why!

[Toycoon]

Dramatic stuff, Toycoon.  You have me on the edge of mey seat.  What's going to happen now?

Gary

Thanks for reading, Gary. All I know is, there should be a pretty thrilling conclusion coming soon in the fucked-up, sleepy town of Lightning Flat!

[Luvlylittlewing]

Right 79 By Littlewing1957

Mrs. Twist stood outside her front door in the cold.  She looked at her Timex watch, a gift from Jack, and saw that it was well past 2:00a.m.  Jack wasn't home from the dance.  That boy promised that he would be home before too long.  Mrs. Twist conceded that she couldn't specify what "too long" meant.  But she reasoned that Jack would be home well before the first light of morning.  Mrs. Twist glanced at her watch again and sighed.  Jack was a grown man, and he could do whatever he wanted - to an extent.  She just thought it was right that her son be considerate of her feelings!  Even if Jack were 45, she would worry if he didn't turn up at a reasonable hour.  Too add to her distress, Mr. Twist was out with friends.  It was not like him to go out and leave her at the ranch alone, but she said nothing when a few of his buddies came by and practically dragged him off the property.  "Goin' drinkin," was all her husband said to her as he was led away by his pals.  Mrs. Twist shook off a feeling of dread for both of her men and walked back into her home.

Mr. Twist was seated atop a barstool at Riley's, and finished off his 3rd beer.  His buddy, Hobart Feger, sat right beside him.  His other pal, Kevin Ferguson, left about an hour ago; said he had to go home and make sure the missus was okay.  John and Hobart chuckled silently to themselves when they heard that.  Both knew that Kevin's wife was sorta loose, and Kevin only wanted out to go check up on her.  They let him go without comment.  John Twist looked around the smoky bar.  He and Hobart were two of only 6 patrons in the entire place.  Hobart was just about to order them another round when a pair of young people staggered into the bar, very drunk and very well-dressed.  John and Hobart watched as the two young men took a table and began laughing hysterically.  John knew the young men, as he did business with them on a regular basis.  They were salesmen at one of the lumber depots in town.  Roger, the more sober of the pair, noticed Mr. Twist and walked over to greet him.  Roger slapped John on the shoulder.  "How ya doin', Mr. Twist," Roger slurred.  "I saw ya son at the dance awhile ago!"  John Twist turned toward the young man and smiled at him.  "That's nice," he began.  "You guys have a good time at the dance?"  Roger told him all about the festivities, and was quite animated as he described what happend with Rocky and Leroy.  John Twist listened to the young man with great interest.  He didn't like what he was hearing. 

Mrs. Twist was very tired, but she couldn't bring herself to go to bed.  She couldn't explain why, but she had a bad feeling about the dance.  Jack should be home by now.  Roberta Twist was sorry for the first time in her life that she couldn't drive.  She was also very angry at her husband for staying out so long.  Mr. Twist should be home.  He should be right beside her, worrying about their son.  Or out looking for him!   She would really chew him out when he got home.  Mrs. Twist sat on her couch and tried to calm her nerves by working on the sweater she was knitting for Jack.  She knew she was being silly, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Along about 3:00a.m. Mr. Twist entered his home.  His wife had fallen asleep on the couch, her knitting fanned out across her chest.  John shook her gently, and was patient as her eyes focused on him.  "Why you up, mother?" he asked as he sat down beside her.  "I'm waiting up for Jack,"  Mrs. Twist answered.  "He should be home by now, don't you think?"  Mr. Twist told her about meeting with Roger at the bar, and how Roger saw Jack and Katie following behind Rocky and a handsome man he didn't know.  "Roger said that Jack left the party hours ago," Mr. Twist mentioned, absently.  "I'm sure the young folks just went to have an after party drink somewhere.  I wouldn't worry.  Why don't we go up to bed?"  Mrs. Twist smelled the liquor on her husband's breath.  It was not an everyday occurrance, and her husband held his liquor well.  She was not angry that he was just a bit tipsy, but that he was so late in getting home.  She would scream at him later.  "Look, Pa," she began, "I have a bad feeling about Jack.  I think something's wrong, and I would feel better if you go look for him."  Mr. Twist said nothing.  "Please Pa, go look for Jack.  Why don't you check first over at Katie's shop?  If they aren't there, drive around to the bars.  Please, John!"  Mr. Twist sighed and stood up.  "Okay, mother, I'll do what you ask, but I think this is silly.  How is Jack gonna feel when if I find him and try to bring him home?"  "You don't really have to bring him home," Roberta said.  "I just want to know that he's okay."  John Twist shrugged and headed for the door.  "One more thing, John," Mrs. Twist shouted, "Take your gun with you!"

[cwby30]

Afternoon, Little.

Well, the plot thickens.  Looks like all roads lead to Preen, and all of the protagonists and antagonists are on those roads.  Can almost see the black-and-white montage, with OMT getting down his gun and checking it, and Leroy doing the same, and Alan sweating bullets [so to speak] watching Leroy, and two cars with two couples in formal wear headed to Preen for a drink with the ladies and the gents having different expectations, and a pick-up truck heading out into the night away from a dark ranch house with the drive illuminated by the light from a downstairs window, and the moon racing along behind ever-thickening clouds precurser to a storm blowing in from the West... Gives me shivers. [Suddenly in the darkness a shot rang out! Following immediately by another from the opposite side of the room! The flash of gunpowder from the barrels of the two pistols grotesquely lighted for an instant the frozen shapes and figures in the room. Then something hit the floor with a sharp 'thud', and a woman screamed.]

So... Toy... So... Ahem... Next... ...

Thanks again.