La Carta by Opinionista
"Ennis: Te amo y te extraño, y estoy loco por volver a sentir tus besos y tu cuerpo sobre el mío", escribió Jack sobre el papel. Antes de proseguir, volvió a leer lo que había escrito, pero el miedo a la reacción de Ennis hizo que volviera a romper la carta, como ya había hecho con otras diez. Sacó otro folio del cajón y volvió a empezar.
Cabin Fever by Gary
Ennis had stormed out two hours before, so now Jack was alone. The preceding argument had left him feeling tense and bitter, and therefore he was thankful for the stillness of this place out in the wilderness. There wasn’t a soul around, and this gave Jack an opportunity to lick his wounded pride in private. He hadn’t meant to tick Ennis off, but sometimes it was hard not to think out loud, or dream out loud when you felt so comfortable and relaxed with someone. Maybe asking Don Wroe if he’d be willing to sell the cabin was a dumb idea, but it wasn’t like Jack was determined to follow through. Saying something like that was akin to trying on a new pair of boots. You might buy them and take them home if they fit, but most likely you’d leave them in the store. Why couldn’t Ennis see that?
Jack needed something to do just to pass the time so he got the broom from the corner and started sweeping the dust that he and Ennis had tracked in during their stay. He looked the place over as he went, at the wide-planked floor boards, the rough barn board walls, the propane stove and refrigerator, the bed with its iron frame, the fireplace made of river rock, and the wing chair beside it. The night before Ennis had been sitting in that chair naked, and so Jack took his own clothes off, climbed into Ennis’s lap facing him, wrapped his arms around Ennis’s neck, and his legs around the arms of the chair, and he rode Ennis’s hardness like he would ride a bull. This was a nice place, and he really would like to call it his own.
When he opened the door to sweep out the dirt he found a young man standing on the porch getting ready to knock. “Fuck!” Jack said with a start. But then he apologized and asked, “Is there somethin’ I can help you with?”
The kid was about eighteen, with shaggy dark hair, short sideburns, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. Judging from his ragged jeans, and army jacket adorned with peace signs and an upside down American flag, he was yet another war protester. Jack looked the boy up and down and felt a stir in his groin.
“My name’s Danny, sir, and I’m looking for Aaron Wroe,” the kid said with a slow southern draw that would melt butter like warm toast.
“Don’t know an Aaron Wroe,” Jack confessed. “Is he related to Don?”
“Don’s his daddy.”
Jack had to tell the young man that Aaron wasn’t around, but since it appeared he had hiked the seventeen miles up from the main road on foot Jack didn’t have the heart to simply turn him away on a dime. So he invited the kid to share a beer with him. Danny accepted and Jack got a couple of bottles from the fridge, and then they sat on the rockers on the front porch and talked.
Danny explained that his parents had moved to Riverton from Alabama when he was fourteen, and he and Aaron had become good friends. They even planed to be roommates at the University of Wyoming in the fall. The kid had an easy and open way about him. Within a half hour Danny had revealed that “Five Easy Pieces” was his all time favorite film, and that his favorite book was “The Catcher in the Rye.” He also spoke of joining the Peace Core after college. Jack liked the boy’s company, but he was glad when he said he had to go. Ennis turned stony cold toward these kids who gave the finger to tradition, so Jack was glad they wouldn’t cross paths.
Not more than five minutes after the kid left Ennis returned. He walked slowly up to the cabin, stopped before coming up on the porch, and stood there with his head hanging. “Jack, why can’t you take what I can give ya, and stop askin’ for more?”
“Sorry, Ennis.” And he was sorry. Right then all Jack wanted was to enjoy what little time they had together and not fight.
Suddenly Ennis bounded up the steps and charged toward him. Jack got to his feet thinking Ennis was about to hit him, but instead Ennis grabbed him, pushed him up against the wall, and said, “You mess with my mind, Jack fuckin’ Twist.” And then he forcefully shoved his lips against Jack’s and pushed his tongue in.
They kissed like that for a long time, and then Ennis did something he had never done before. He picked Jack up into his arms, and carried him inside the cabin. Then he threw him down on the iron bed and started undoing his shirt. As they made love Jack secretly imagined that Danny was standing outside the window looking in. He wanted the boy to see. Wanted him to know that Ennis loved him. And somehow he thought Danny would appreciate that.
Afterwards Ennis sat up in bed, and Jack leaned against him. “Do you know Aaron Wroe?” Jack asked.
“That’s Don’s son. How’d you hear about him?”
“Someone came by looking for him while you were out.”
Ennis said in a flat tone that indicated he was holding too much back, “Well, he won’t be findin’ him anytime soon. Aaron got himself shot over there in Vietnam. They sent him back in a body bag last week.”
Jack was overcome with a sudden wave of sadness, and not just for Aaron, but for the young man he had met earlier. “Was he good friends with some kid named Danny?”
“Danny Phillips? Guess so. Don was tellin’ me when I asked him if I could borrow the place how last year around this time Aaron was supposed to come up here with Danny. But Don wouldn’t let him.”
“Why not?” asked Jack.
“Don didn’t like him. Not many in Riverton liked Danny after he pulled that stunt to stay out of the army. He told the draft board that he was queer. Wanted Aaron to do the same.”
Jack, sensing something wasn’t right, sat up and looked at Ennis. “What happened to Danny after that?”
Ennis’s expression turned to confusion and he said, “Did that guy that came by say somethin’ about Danny?”
“Just answer me.”
“One night when he was coming out of a bar on Main the kid got jumped, pulled into an alley, and got his head kicked in. Danny Phillips is as dead as Aaron Wroe.”
