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

[Luvlylittlewing]

Jack walked to his room and placed his gloves on the bed.  He was renting a room in Mrs. Sweeney’s rooming house.  His room rented for $10.00 a week, and with his meager winnings from rodeo competitions, and pay from odd jobs, Jack was just able to afford his room and the meals that Mrs. Sweeney provided for $3.00 more a week.  He was about ready to move on.  It was no reflection on Billie Sweeney and her modest house, but Jack was itching to participate in every rodeo riding competition in the fine State of Texas.  He sat on the bed and rubbed his elbow.  He was hungry, he was tired, and, yes, he missed Ennis Del Mar.

Jack couldn’t chase the memory of Ennis walking down the road behind him as they left Brokeback Mountain after the job was cut short.  Jack will never forget the look on Ennis’ face – was certain that his handsome mug looked a little sick, a bit green.  He fought every urge to turn his truck around and go back for his friend, but he wasn’t at all sure that Ennis would welcome him.  They did not leave on the best of terms.  Oh, they weren’t angry, but their parting was awkward to say the last.  Jack put the sad image of Ennis disappearing out of his life to rest as pulled off his dirty jeans and put on his only other pair of clean stiff wash jeans.  Mrs. Sweeney served dinner at 7:00p.m. sharp, and she didn’t abide people sitting at her table wearing dirty clothes.  Billie Sweeney was a simple woman, but she was well bred.  When she was a girl her father insisted that the family dressed for dinner.  She couldn’t require her boarders, who were, for the most part, simple working people to wear fancy suits and dresses to her dinner table.  But the people she served could at least be neat and clean.  Jack smoothed his hair and headed downstairs to the dining room for supper.  He fought back tears as he wondered where Ennis would eat supper that night.  Jack saw visions of Alma serving Ennis his supper.  He shook the pictures out of his mind.  The thought of Ennis with a wife was more than he could bear.

Mrs. Sweeney was just placing the last of the platters on the table when Jack sat down.  He was the 3rd and last boarder to arrive.  To his right sat Mr. Charles Simmons, a roughneck, and seated next to Mr. Simmons was Pearl Whittle, a librarian.  Simon McBride sat on the right of Billie Sweeney.  No one spoke as Mrs. Sweeney said grace.  Jack looked at his hostess and waited for her nod.  He reached for the mashed potatoes and loaded his plate.  Mrs. Sweeney encouraged her guests to eat their fill, and smiled as Jack, Charles and Simon enjoyed fried pork chops, apple sauce, mashed potatoes and green beans and bread.  Pearl ate only green beans and a bit of the mashed potatoes.  The conversation at the table was light.  The boarders took turns talking about their adventures at work and elsewhere.  Jack spoke about the odd jobs he did around the ranches in the area, and Pearl went on about a new assistant librarian that was hired just that morning.  Charles was silent.  Jack never looked his way, but Charlie stole glances at Jack.  Charlie Simmons was a big, silent, affable man who had hazel eyes and dirty blond hair.  He was very buff and very handsome.  Jack couldn’t look at him.  He didn't have to just then.  Charlie would visit him later that night when the house grew dark and silent.  Their "affair" was going on for weeks now.  Charlie would knock, and Jack would open the door and allow him to enter.  Charlie would disrobe in silence while Jack placed lube on the bed.  The coupling was mechanical.  Both knew that there would be no strings attached, no feelings to get in the way.  Recreation, it was.  Jack felt free to call Ennis’ name when his release was near.  Charlie didn’t care.  He was happy to be Ennis. As long as his needs were met, he could be anyone Jack wanted him to be.

[Toycoon]

Hmmmm, Littlewing. Very provocative story. I'm more than just curious to see where this leads...

[Luvlylittlewing]

Hmmmm, Littlewing. Very provocative story. I'm more than just curious to see where this leads...

Thanks, Toy!  You think I should continue?  Okay, but I think I'll post another chapter of Right first.  I suppose we can have more than 1 saga going at a time! 

[Luvlylittlewing]

Jack got the call at the office right before he was packing up to leave for the day.  It was Lureen reminding him to pick up reeds for Bobby at the music store.  Jack remembered.  Bobby took up the clarinet months ago, and since then, Jack found himself heading for The Best Music Store every few weeks to buy replacement reeds for Bobby’s instrument.  It was a task he didn’t mind.  In fact, Jack rather enjoyed visiting the store, and browsing through the various instruments and sheet music while he waited his turn.  Few people knew this, but Jack always wanted to play an instrument.  At first he fancied the drums, but later on he had dreams of plucking away at the piano.  But there was always the matter of money: never enough of it.  No means to pay for music lessons!  Story of Jack’s life!

The Best Music Store was not a large place, but the owner managed to offer just about every instrument a person could want.  Jack walked into the store and was delighted to see that it was practically empty.  He eyed a set of bongos and resisted an urge to beat out a tune on the larger of the drums.  He was welcome to test out the instruments; the owner, Sal Rosen, always made that clear to him.  But Jack didn’t have time to kid around.  He needed to purchase the reeds and get them home to Bobby.  His son had to practice for a school performance the following night. 

Mr. Rosen waited on Jack.  He knew that Bobby used cane reeds and had them ready for him before he reached the counter.  Jack handed Sal payment and waited for his change.  He was browsing around the counter when he saw a harmonica among the rare items that Sal kept in the glass case right under the cash register.  Jack felt his heart skip a few beats.  He saw several mouth organs in the shop over the months, but this one he never noticed before.  There was something strangely familiar about this one.  Sal was back with Jack’s change, and noticed him eyeing the harmonica.  “Wanna see it, Mr. Twist?” Sal asked as he reached for the keys to the case.  “I just got this one in.  I bought it off the manager of a local blues man in town who just died a few weeks ago.  This harmonica is very special!  Here, let me get it for you.”  Jack didn’t object as Sal placed the instrument in his hand.  He felt the weight of the harmonica and turned it from side to side to get a good look at it.  It was obviously used, but in good condition.  “That harmonica don’t sound right, neither!”  Jack could hear Ennis’ voice as he held the harmonica in his hands.  He smiled at the memory.  “I’ll take it!” Jack blurted as he handed the instrument back to Sal.  “But this costs..” Sal began as he looked at the price tag.  “I don’t care what it costs,” Jack stated as he reached for his wallet.  Sal shrugged and smiled.  “Yes, sir, I’ll wrap it up for you.”  Jack already has a special place in mind for the harmonica.  It would be for his eyes only.  He blushed a bit as he thought about Ennis and his reactions to his harmonica "playing" up on Brokeback.  Jack already owned a mouth organ, one that would be perfect for practice and performing.   And He knew a guy at work, a black man, who played harmonica after hours at one of the blues clubs in town.  He wondered if Cleophus would like to make some extra money giving harmonica lessons. 

[Dagi]

Please, Dagi--uh-mariposa!  I would know you anywhere! 

I guess the bad English is very telling, huh?  I´d recognize you anywhere, too, Marie dear. Now more than ever.

Love,
Dagi

PS Every once in a while I peak in here and have a read, sorry for not  commenting much. I simply enjoy reading, Marie, Toycoon, cwby30. Thanks for writing!

[Luvlylittlewing]

I guess the bad English is very telling, huh?  I´d recognize you anywhere, too, Marie dear. Now more than ever.

Love,
Dagi

PS Every once in a while I peak in here and have a read, sorry for not  commenting much. I simply enjoy reading, Marie, Toycoon, cwby30. Thanks for writing!

Dagi, how nice it is to see you here!  I'm glad you stop in from time to time to read our stories.  I would really like to read a sweet tale from you!  Asking too much?  Not feeling it?  I understand.  I'll keep posting em if you'll keep reading em, and commenting, of course! 

[cwby30]

Evenin', Dagi.

Well, appreciate the kind words, and will keep on writing.  Have some in the works, nothing ready to post, but getting there. 

Did you write 'Lost Memories' and 'Losing Time'?  Someone with the same name but different handle posted those on LJ a few months ago.  Good stories.

Thanks again. 

[Luvlylittlewing]

Jack drove Ennis back to the rest stop on the outskirts of Riverton to pick up his truck.  Jack arrived at Don Wroe’s cabin more than a week ago in a brand new Chevy truck, red and gleaming.  Ennis walked around Jack’s new vehicle and whistled.  “This is a mighty fine truck, Jack,” Ennis exclaimed.  “It must have set you back a pretty penny.” “Remember, I work for a car dealership,” Jack stated, absently.  “I get cars for cost, or less.”  Ennis nodded and smiled.  He was happy to see his lover doing well.  Jack thought about the week long trip as he drove back to the rest stop.  He had such fond memories of being with his lover once more.  But the sight of Riverton with its wide open spaces and dreary, dusty roads depressed Jack.  He was a native of Wyoming, but living in Texas broadened his horizons.  Some things never changed.  Riverton was as boring as ever, and Lightning Flat was even worse.  It was no wonder that Jack was itching to be anywhere else but Lightning Flat for as long as he could remember.

As they neared the rest stop, Jack couldn’t keep his peace.  He shot a look at Ennis and turned his attention back to the black strip of road.  “Why are you still living here, Friend?”  There, he said it. Ennis didn’t understand right away.  He was looking at the road, looking ahead to the stop where he parked his old truck for the week.  “You hear me, Cowboy,” Jack whispered.  Ennis sucked his teeth and continued to look straight ahead. “Yeah, I heard you, Bud.”  Ennis loved Jack, but he hated his constant entreaties: his hints that they should pack up and move away to start a life together.  Both were quiet for a moment as Jack continued driving.  When he made it to the rest stop, Jack turned off the engine and restrained Ennis with a shaky hand.  “Just a minute, Cowboy,” Jack spoke, forcefully.  Ennis knew to stay where he was.  Jack had something to say.

“Again, I ask you – why are you still living here?  Look at this place!  It’s all cold in the winters and horrible in the summer.”  Ennis listened.  “You can do better than this, Friend.  Give me 3 months and I can have you a place to live, a decent job and I can introduce you to a lot of good people.  You should come and live in Texas.”  Ennis stifled a laugh.  “But what about the girls?”  Jack smiled when Ennis mentioned his daughters.  “Those angels?  Bring them with you, or we can make it so they visit often.  You can get them for the summer and holidays, just like you do now.”  Ennis was interested now.  “We?”  Jack smiled. “Yes, we.”  Jack spoke so softly and tenderly that Ennis felt a fire lighting in his belly, and just above.  “Let me think on it,” Ennis stated, coyly.  And with that, Ennis climbed out of the cab of Jack’s new vehicle.  Jack watched as Ennis cranked up his old truck, waved and drove away. 

[Luvlylittlewing]

The three of them were occupying the 3rd row of The Taylor Memorial Methodist Church.  Jack was wearing a black pinstriped Brook Brothers suit and a white shirt.  On his lapel was pinned a tiny red carnation.  Ennis wore a creamy white suit, white and blue stripped shirt and on his lapel he sported a white carnation.  Baby Indigo was giggling on Jack’s lap, her sandy hair in ringlets and her dress an explosion of pink lace and ruffles.  It was Father’s Day.

When Jack and Ennis entered the church, they were greeted by a deacon standing before a table on which lay a tray containing red and white carnations.  Deacon King looked first to Ennis.  “Mornin, brother! How are you and your family this fine morning?”  Ennis nodded and spoke a greeting.  “Father dead or alive?”  The question didn't surprise Ennis nor Jack.  “Dead,” was Ennis’ answer.  He was not put off by the question, nor did he feel any real pain when he delivered the answer.  Deacon King nodded and pinned a white carnation on Ennis’ lapel.  When Jack answered, “alive,” the Deacon supplied him with a red bloom.  Deacon King tickled Indigo’s chubby cheek and called for an usher to show them to their seats.

The service was rather lengthy that morning, as Pastor Rutledge made time for members who wanted to take the pulpit and deliver a tribute to their fathers.  Jack and Ennis took turns holding their daughter.  They were happier than they thought they had a right to be, but when Jenny took the pulpit with Alma Jr. close behind her, Ennis almost fell over.  He had no idea his older girls would be at service, and he never in a million years imaged that his daughters would pay tribute to him in a public forum.  Jenny seemed to fight back tears when she spoke about her dad.  Ennis let his tears fall.  Jack placed an arm around his husband and patted his shoulder as Alma Jr. took the microphone from her sister and praised her dad.  Ennis felt a sting of embarrassment as several parishioners turned around and smiled at him.  He gave Jack a sympathetic glance.  But Jack was very happy that his husband was lucky enough to have two beautiful, accepting, caring daughters.  Jack considered Jenny and Alma Jr. to be his children, as well.  His birth son, Bobby, never came around.  Jack grew to accept his only son’s indifference. 

“Hey, Cowboy, happy Father’s Day!”  Jack was shaking Ennis awake.  Baby Indigo was crying in her crib.  Ennis had to focus his eyes as he fought off sleep.  He been dreaming about being in church, but his sweet life was real.  “Happy Father’s Day, Lil Darlin!” Ennis whispered to his love as he kissed him full on the mouth.  “I’ll go get the baby," Jack said as he leapt out of bed and donned his robe. He headed for the door, and turned to Ennis as though he forgot something.  “And you had better get up, Cowboy,” Jack spoke, excited.  “We only have an hour to get ourselves and our baby fed and clothed.  We have to be in church by 10:00.”  Ennis nodded knowingly and smiled at his husband. 

[Luvlylittlewing]

Right 89

Mrs. Twist was lying warm in her bed, but a storm was raging in her heart.   She didn't feel like doing much of anything since Jack and Ennis hit the road a week ago without a word.  Mr. Twist resolved to give his woman her space, but if she didn’t snap out of her funk in a few days, he would summon the doctor.  Mr. Twist gritted his teeth as he made supper while his wife rested.  These days he found himself doing all the cooking, the cleaning and the laundry.  And he supervised Harold and his friends in the rebuilding of the barn.  John Twist was never so bone weary in his life, but he knew he had to keep going.  He married for better or for worse, and had every intention of honoring his vows.  Few people knew that John Twist was a pretty decent cook.  Jack never really learned that fact, as his mom always prepared meals for the family, and she was rarely so ill that she couldn’t cook.  Mrs. Twist always carried Jack with her when she visited her people, so there was no reason for John to cook for his son.  When John thought of Jack and Ennis, his blood began to boil hotter than the stew he just prepared.  He tried not to be resentful, tried not to blame his son for taking off practically out of the blue.  The bitterness was something he had to work on.  No need in staying all hot and bothered about circumstances he couldn't change.

John placed a bit of the lamb stew in a bowl and placed it on a tray with a few slices of bread and a glass of milk.  He hoisted the tray and headed for the stairs and his bedroom.  He felt his age as he lifted first one foot, and then the other to climb the stairs.  When he made the landing, John tread slowly as he passed first the tiny bathroom, and then Jack’s bedroom.  He flinched when he noticed Jack’s bedroom door was open.  He stopped and glanced in at the twin bed that somehow looked as though Jack never slept there.  The room was as barren and as cheerful as the grave.  John fought to cancel out the images of him lying there with his terrified son as he wronged him again and again.  He knew he had a lot to pay for.  He only hoped the sweet Lord would give him a chance to repent, to right the wrongs he committed in this life before he closed his eyes in death.  Mr. Twist reasoned that caring for his wife was a step in righting the wrongs.  He neared his bedroom and stopped right outside the closed door.  He listened for any sounds, any sign that his wife was awake.  He heard nothing.

John nudged the door open with an elbow and inched his way in.  His wife was lying in bed, the family Bible spread out on the quilt in front of her.  She had weak eyes, and must have been crying again.  John couldn’t fathom it.  He missed his son, but he also knew he had an advantage.  His longing for Jack was tempered with resentment.  John smiled at his wife and she smiled in return.  “You cooked dinner, pa,” she whispered.  Mr. Twist nodded slightly and sat the tray down on their bureau.  “Yeah, I cooked a bit of lamb stew, yer favorite.”  He reached down and removed the bible.  “Why don’t you sit up and try to eat a bite.  You need to keep your strength up.”  Mrs. Twist nodded, and even smiled a bit.  “That smells awful good, John.  Thanks for cooking it up for me.”  John’s heart leapt when he heard that.  “You welcome, mother,” he stated as he placed the tray down on the quilt.  He pulled up a chair and sat down beside his woman.  Mrs. Twist ladled a spoonful of the stew and blew on it to cool.  She gobbled the entire spoonful and groaned with pleasure.  “My Lord, John, but you’re an even better cook than I am,”  John Twist blushed with pleasure and watched his wife eat.  It was the most she was able to tolerate in days.  When she had finished every bit of the stew, he removed the tray and asked her if she wanted more.  “Oh, no, pa, I’m full.  Thanks for the meal.”  John placed the tray on the bureau and took his wife’s hand in his.  He kissed her palm and looked deep into her red eyes.  “You don’t have to thank me, ma.  You’re my wife and I’ll always take care of you.”  Mrs. Twist felt her eyes tearing up, and this time Jack was the furthest thing from her mind.  She pulled the quilt aside and motioned for her husband to climb in bed beside her.  JohnTwist removed his shoes and climbed in bed to hold his wife in his arms.  As she responded to his touch, John was certain that he wouldn't need to bother the doctor.