Author Topic: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate  (Read 3937 times)

Offline Seom

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"The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« on: June 14, 2006, 02:29:59 am »
uh... hi... kinda new here, but here's my fan fic. It's my first bbm fan fic and my first angst fan fic and I actually thought it turned out rather well. tee hee  ;D. There's been a lot of debate of exactly how Jack died. Well, this is my point of view of how he died.  :'(

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Ennis,

I don't care no more. I'm coming down. As soon as I divorce Lureen, I'm coming down there to Riverton and taking you away. I can't stand this no more Ennis. I can't stand not being around you. So I don't care if your daddy rises from his grave and shoves that fucking tire iron right up my ass, it you won't keep me from you. And it would hurt less than us being apart. Damn it, Ennis, each minute I spend away from you feels like another tears in my gut. I don' care if you like it or not, I'll drag you away fighting and screaming, but I'm never letting you outta my sight again.

Jack


Furious tears stung his eyes as he shoved the letter into the envelope. Turning it over he addressed it, Ennis's and his own return address and began searching Lureen's desk for a stamp. This fucking desk. Why was it so damn full? Drawer after drawer he pulled out, shuffled papers, angrily throwing out books and still he could not find a damn stamp.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his watering eyes.

"What you looking for, Jack?" Lureen said as she poked her head into the office.

"Goddamn fucking stamp," he said angrily, pulling a drawer so hard it slid right from the desk and fell to the floor, the papers flying like fallen doves. "Shit!"

"You been drinking again, Jack." It wasn't a question. He'd done nothing else since he'd gotten back from his last fishing trip.

"No I haven't been drinking, damn it. I need a fucking stamp." He refused to look up at her. His watering eyes hadn't stopped leaking yet.

"Well they're in the middle drawer where they always are." She said it so damn coolly, like even an idiot would have known where she hid her damn stamps. High and mighty bitch.

Finally he pulled out the stamp from the middle drawer, slammed it sloppily onto the envelope, a corner of it hanging off the edge. Who fucking cared?

Clutching the letter, he stormed from the house, slamming the door to the house as he left and slamming the door to the truck as he entered it. Fucking Lureen. With her withdrawn manner and cold tone. That woman could turn a clown sober with her plainness. Not that he'd ever liked clowns anyway. Bunch a overly-happy queers prancing around in make-up.

He drove down the road, going to the post office. The tears had finally dried now. He was so angry. He wasn't even quite sure at what. He'd been drinking again. Lureen of course had been right. That's all he had been doing for some time. The more he drank the more he thought of Ennis. The more he thought of him the more his longing for the man increased. And when he couldn't do anything to satisfy that longing, he got pissed, in the drunken sense and the angry sense. This wasn't the first letter he had written with such angry contents. This was just one of the many.

But he had never sent them. Always he'd written them, gone to post them, pulled to the side of the road, cried his fucking eyes out, tore up the letter and drove back home. Let be, let be.

But this time was different. This time he would mail it. He'd put it into the post and go straight to his attorney and pick up the papers for a divorce. He was sick of this shit. This time it was different.

It always was.

Finally he reached the post office and stopped the truck. He didn't get out though. He sat in his truck looking at the letter. He turned it over and over in his hands.

On cue, just as it always did, his drunken anger crashed down. What was he doing? He couldn't send this to Ennis. It'd only drive him further away.

The tears returned, just as always. Fucking Ennis! Why the fuck was he so difficult? It wasn't that hard! Jack was only asking to spend the rest of his life with him. Was it really that much to ask? Ever since he had divorced his wife Jack had clung to a false hope that Ennis was actually going to finally come away with him. But he had hoped in vain. The divorce hadn't changed anything.

But this time a divorce would change things. Jack would divorce his wife now and go after Ennis, not wait for Ennis to finally come to him. Damn pride, damn anything else that would keep him away.

And add to that, damn this letter. Damn the divorce. What was keeping him from just taking off right now? He didn't have anything with him, no money, no clothes, no food, but he really didn't give a fuck right now.

He tore the pointless letter, ripping it over and over until it was tiny shreds, and threw it out the window. Changing out of park, he started the truck and drove dangerously down the road. He didn't watch as he passed straight through stop signs and red lights. He only had one destination: Riverton, Wyoming.

He was so distracted as he finally exited town that he didn't see the branch lying in the middle of the road. It wasn't until the truck swerved precariously near the gutter that he knew he had a flat.

Cursing everything from his truck to squirrels, he slammed his truck to a stop. He rammed his fist into the wheel. Of fucking course. He'd finally gotten the determination to finally go after Ennis and that fucking branch had to end up right in the middle of the damn road. He shoved the door open, and walked angrily to his back tire. Taking out the proper tools, he removed the offensive object off his truck, shoved it angrily into the gutter. He took out his spare, shoved it into place and tightened it. He kicked it angrily. Fucking thing was flat.

He grabbed his air pump from the back of his truck and connected it. Furiously he shoved the handle down, pumping air into the tire. Each push felt like a heart beat, pump... pump... pump...

Fucking Ennis. This was all his fucking fault, the son of a bitch.

Pump... pump... pump...

What was his problem? Why couldn't he just quit him? He should. Why couldn't he just forget about him?

Pump... pump... pump... pump...

First he had responsibilities for his family, now he had work, work and more work. Why did he continue to hide behind such trivial things in his life?

Pump... pump... pump...

That fucking son of a whoreson bitch. He fucking hated him.  He fucking needed him...

Pump... pump... pu-

The tire blew so abruptly he'd been in the middle of pushing the handle down. A flash of light, excruciating pain, and then... all was black...

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Ennis looked down on him, his young face carefree and his shoulders lacking their worrisome slump. He smile at Jack, his hand caressed his face. The pain began to lessen.

"Jack."

Jack smiled back at him.

"Where are we?"

"We're on Brokeback, bud. Don't worry. You're alright. That damn mare."

Jack smiled as he thought of that damn frisky mare. Must a taken a fall. He wondered where his harmonica was.

"Time to hit the hay, cowboy."

Jack smiled at that familiar line, suddenly drowsy.

"I'll be here in the morning."

"G'night Ennis."

"G'night, friend."

Jack smiled as he slowly slipped into slumber.

Offline SFEnnisSF

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #1 on: July 19, 2006, 04:52:37 pm »
OMG!  :'(  :'(  :'(

Offline ednbarby

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #2 on: July 19, 2006, 05:08:16 pm »
OMG!  :'(  :'(  :'(

Amen.

 :'(

Beautifully done, Seom.  I've never been a proponent of the exploding tire theory, but your version of it makes it possible for me to believe it.  And though the core of the tragedy - that Jack was killed by the thing he loved - remains intact and every bit as devastating, it's comforting to some extent to think that maybe he didn't die at the hands of hateful bigots like Ennis had feared.
No more beans!

Offline alec716

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #3 on: July 24, 2006, 12:26:11 am »
DITTO to every word that ednbarby said... I won't even try to improve on that characterization!

Thanks, Seom, for a necessarily-hard-to-read but strangely beautiful post. 
"... he is suffused with a sense of pleasure because Jack Twist was in his dream."

Marge_Innavera

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #4 on: July 28, 2006, 09:55:03 am »
Time to hit the hay, cowboy."

Jack smiled at that familiar line, suddenly drowsy.

"I'll be here in the morning."

"G'night Ennis."

"G'night, friend."

Jack smiled as he slowly slipped into slumber.


Oh, nice touch, having Jack's last thoughts be about Ennis and the 'dozy embrace.'  And the "accident" scenario has more dimension than just a freak accident when you relate it to Jack's drinking and his distracted emotional state over Ennis.

Offline belgianboy

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #5 on: August 10, 2006, 06:01:26 pm »
Such a lovely story! You do indeed make the tire version believable, incorporating it so well into Jack's drunken demeanor. That's a feat, because I've always favored the gaybashing version. I love the pump, pump, pump sequences tied in to the hostility toward Ennis. So visceral, in the moment, puts the reader right there. And the ending, so poetic and touching. Great job!

Offline Arad-3

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #6 on: September 08, 2006, 02:21:36 pm »
Beautiful.  that's all I can say as I'm fighting back the tears.
« Last Edit: September 08, 2006, 02:38:58 pm by Arad-3 »
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Offline Artiste

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Re: "The Tire Iron"- a telling of Jack's fate
« Reply #7 on: December 23, 2008, 09:06:02 pm »
Jack was murdered because he was a gay man, and to-day he will be again because not only islamic and other radicals do not accept other humans, but the Pope does not accept gays neither, calling gays less important than wood! Shame!