September 18, 2007
Lazy L Farm, Quanah, TX
“Ya know, En, if they start a birthday thread for me, people are gonna start askin ‘bout yer birthday.”
“We don’t talk about my birthday, Jack.”
“I know that, but others don’t.”
“Jack…”
“Ennis…”
“I was born on fuckin Friday the thirteenth. And in 1963, it fuckin snowed on my birthday. You remember that.”
Jack nodded yes. He did.
“Nothin good has ever come on my birthday. That’s why I don’t celebrate it.”
“Fact is, En, I don’t think anything bad has happened on yer birthday since we got together in 1976.”
“Mebbe not on my birthday that year, but Hal died a week later.”
“True, that.”
Ennis paused, then spoke slowly, carefully articulating his thoughts. “Tell ya what, you just tell everybody that my birthday is September 21st, just like yours. We’ll celebrate it together. How’s that?”
Jack thought for a second, then nodded. “Sounds like a plan, cowboy,” he said with a smile.
(162 words)