Variety
Saturday, August 16, 1969 4:32 p.m.
“Guess I gotta move first, huh?” Jack questioned, hat pulled low over his eyes, arms folded comfortably across his stomach, right hand holding Ennis’ left one, occasionally moving just long enough to stroke first up and then down Ennis’ long arm, before coming to rest once again on his stomach, re-claiming Ennis’ hand, stroking the palm, tugging on the fingers.
“Yup.”
“Okay…thinkin ‘bout movin now…”
“uuhhuumm.”
“Damn, Ennis…don’t wanna move!” Jack groaned, shifting sideways, burying his cheek into Ennis’ chest, drawing up his legs, reaching around with his arm to wrap around Ennis’ waist, all the while curling up tightly inside the safety of Ennis’ strong legs, wrapped securely around his entire body.
Ennis smiled into Jack’s hair, pressing his
lips back and forth across the soft, dark waves.
“Don’t know why folks call these the
dog days of summer no how. I feel more like a cat right now.” Jack sighed. “Feel like I could just curl up and nap for seventeen hours outa the day.”
“Think ya already done that, Bud.” Ennis chuckled.
Jack tickled Ennis on his right side.
“Fuck, stop that…” Ennis squirmed, laughing, pulling Jack up and forward into his long strong arms.
“Gettin hungry, Rodeo?”
“Yeah, I’m always hungry.” Jack winked. “Gonna make you up a real nice supper, friend.”
“hhhmmm. Sure ‘bout that?” Ennis’ eyes laughed and twinkled. “Don’t know about that shit you cooked yesterday. Nobody in their right mind brings canned
brussel sprouts on a fishin trip. Damn, that is one scary-lookin vegetable.”
“Thought I was being creative…ya know…variety bein’ the spice a life, and all that shit.”
“Don’t need no variety, Jack.” Ennis sighed, hovering over the man’s lips. “Got everythin I need for these trips, right here.”
“Me too, cowboy. Me too.”
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(300 Words)