Right (29) By Littlewing1957
“Did you say Ennis Del Mar?” Jack asked his pa breathlessly. “Yeah, Ennis Del Mar.” It was Mr. Twist, as impatient and taciturn as ever. “Yeah I know him.” Jack answered cautiously. Jack could feel the fire rising in his loins and tried to control the red hot flush that warmed his cheeks. Jack was thankful for his dad’s lack of interest. If the old man actually took the trouble to look at his son while talking to him, he would have noticed the change. But Jack was grateful what his dad didn’t see how the very mention of Ennis Del Mar’s name almost brought him to his knees.
Jack walked over and sat down opposite his dad. I gotta play it cool, Jack thought as he stared at his pa. Mr. Twist, instantly aware that he was being watched, looked up from his paper. “What is it?” He asked his son impatiently. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jack studied his father, trying to figure out a way to ask what he needed to ask without sounding too eager or too desperate.
“Uh, Ennis Del Mar, dad?” Jack began, his hands clasped in front of him on the table. “Yeah, what about him? Mr. Twist asked absently as he turned to the sports page. “Well,” Jack spoke slowly. “Did he come by here while I was out, or something?” Jack was struggling to keep his cool. Mr. Twist reached under the Sunday paper and pulled out a postcard, the very same card that Jack "mailed" to Ennis general delivery just 3 days ago. "I should have given this to you yesterday, but it slipped my mind. I read the back of the card before I noticed you must have sent it,” Mr. Twist spoke as he turned the card forward and backward. “I thought it was for me or your ma until I noticed the return address, and Ennis Del Mar’s name on it. Son, I didn’t read your message, just the name of the person you tried to mail it to.” Jack tried hard to swallow the bile rising in his throat. Mr. Twist passed him the postcard. “Seems like you forgot to put postage on it and it was returned.” Jack took the postcard and stared at it. His mind was in a fog as he ascended the stairs to his room, clutching the postcard against his chest.