My thanks to Diana Hartman for her help, we had to fight the wild software, but she did it and I'm gratefull!

Wow! ....Jet, your description was just as HOT as the movie.....hotter even, damn!

Thanks Chantal, you might say I know my subject.

Solus mei sententia
Jet

P.S. Diana and I fought into the morning with this and I had to do a sudden rewrite at 5 AM... sorry about all the commas-I was half asleep!

For my full review of the DVD click here

Chantal, after A blind friend of mine asked me to describe Jack and Ennis' very first real kiss which actually didn't happen till that second night, I didn't realize that he'd recorded me narrating it, and I was so surprised that I wrote it down, and then novelized Annie's whole short story for him so he could "see" the movie.

This is how I described it. I should warn you it gets slightly graphic but not enough to offend if you've seen the movie...

Unable to find the right words, neither spoke, and as wolves and owls called out into the night, Twist finally gave up and crawled into the camp tent muttering, "G'night", sort of hoping Ennis would follow.
When nothing happened, he peeked outside as Ennis walked slowly over to his horse, mounted it and rode away into the darkness. Then, he bowed his head and a tear dropped from his eye. He pulled his shirt off and was just preparing to bed down for the night, when from outside, twigs snapped.
A bear or a wolf attracted by the smell of food?
He sat up and saw Ennis dismount, walk towards the tent, but stop in his tracks at the fire, as though changing his mind.
Jack lay back down, shivering from the evening cold or from anticipation; he wasn't sure which, but waiting to see what would happen. When nothing did, he sat up and peered out through the flaps.
Ennis sat down on the log, staring like a lost puppy into the flickering embers for what seemed like forever, sometimes looking over at the tent flap, causing Jack to duck out of sight, sometimes just shaking his head as if he were really sad. He looked off toward the hillsides where he had a responsibility to be with the sheep, and then at the tent, then back toward the herd. Suddenly the loneliness and the night's cold got the better of him and he felt himself drawn to Jack, and the feelings within himself that he couldn't understand. He closed his eyes and bowed his head in surrender, cursing under his breath.
Jack almost jumped up to comfort him when Ennis suddenly stood, as if making a decision, and then slowly advanced on the tent.
With his hat meekly in his hand in respect, he parted the flaps, and was startled to meet Jack's eyes right in front of him.
Jack drew closer, but hesitated with a lost look, and without a word their eyes locked, and they both knew the "one shot deal" had been canceled. Ennis didn't know what to do, as Jack reached out and took his hat, tossing it aside. Jack only knew that he wanted to do it again, only this time with feeling.
Ennis' pent-up emotions began to spill out and his fear caused him to draw away and try to back out of the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I'm sorry that I... I'm so sorry, Jack."
Jack grabbed his forearm and held it, keeping him from chickening out, tenderly whispering, "It's alright, it's alright" as Ennis' eyes seemed to glaze over with want.
With each repeated "It's alright," that followed, something inside both of them began to heal, and without voicing it, they gave each other permission to explore forbidden thoughts.
With shuddering hands they embraced, knowing that the unfeeling animal sex they'd had last night was the only thing that was "a one shot deal." As their lips met for the first time, hesitant at first, they became locked in breathless passion.
Ennis couldn't stop whispering that he was sorry, and suddenly drew back again, scared of the feeling he couldn't understand and feared, as it came welling up inside himself, but as Jack pulled away unsure that he'd mistaken this man's intentions, Ennis drew him to himself, and Jack's trembling hands finished pulling his new lover's clothes off as their lips relocked in a fiery kiss...
Jack pushed him onto his back beside him, and Ennis' head fell onto his left shoulder. Letting his fears go completely, del Mar began caressing Jack's bare chest, then his fingers strayed to his neck and then his chin. Jack rolled over on top of Ennis, who was still shaking from pent up emotions, and as their lips met again, Jack kissed him, as no one had ever been kissed before. Ennis began exploring Jack's body again, and soon they were making love, not just sex, it was love, as undeclared as it was deep, leaving them convinced that they'd never before felt this way about anyone else.
It was like falling for your first love all over again.

wheww!!....again, almost better than that movie itself!

and just so you know, Jet, I'm not easily offended. My tender ears and eyes have seen (and done!?!?) much much worse! ;)

I'm glad you liked it, frankly you weren't the one I was worried would be offended, but since I got it past the comments editor, I'll breath a sigh of relief.

I'm glad to have you as a friend
Jet

hello this is samantha kone im 14 and i love this movie

Why hello there Samantha age 14-considering the subject matter of this movie you should be ashamed of yourself, and considering your URL is a fake, I'd say your a 45 year old male detective from Akron Ohio trolling for a child predator to lure into your den.

you won't find one here sweetie, but goodluck elsewhere!

Samantha #9 sounds awfully familiar, like I've seen it before, can anyone trace the IP because I have a sneaking suspicion of who the troublemaker probably is? Or maybe she's a b5 fan here by mistake, but I doubt it...

Jet,

I read, reread and absorbed what you wrote. It was beautiful and very true to the story in every way. Every time I see this movie or read the story, I am moved by how natural the whole relationship really was and in that light it makes me profoundly sad that so many people will never experience the love Ennis and Jack shared.

Thank you Silas-I hope you didn't miss my continuance on Comment 6. I added quite a bit of narration in my version and some details to explain some of the mysteries, but I can't print it for being worried of being sued.

I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Jet

By the way my novelization of her short story based on the movie is 51 pages long and it took me almost as long as the movie lasted to read it to him.

A friend of ours is typing it up for him in braile.

Jet, I just want to thank you. I don't have as much time as I used to to get over here but I make a point of searching for your works. You are a credit to the community and for what it's worth you have my undying respect and gratitude.

Hi,
Great descriptions. Have you posted your novelization of the movie anywhere? I would so love to read it.
jb

Thanks Silas, that means a lot to me.

Solus mei sententia
Jet

Thanks "Just Because" Here's another "taste" of my novelization. I'd love to post the whole thing, but there's this little thing called a copywrite law, and i'm worried about it.

Tell you what, here's a taste of a scene that heightens the drama between their first and 2nd time...


Parting the tent flaps, he realized it was the next morning, and silently pulled his pants back up from his thighs and buckled the belt, then slipped out of the tent, feeling like an escaping rapist who'd fallen asleep with his victim and was fleeing before he was discovered.
Jack crawled out a few minutes later, dressed to his hat and without even exchanging glances; he stood silently at the tent flaps, tucking his shirt in.
The loud clack of the rifle as Ennis checked his ammo brought Jack out of his thoughts.
Twist started striding towards del Mar's back as he shoved the rifle into its sheathe on the saddle and mounted.
As much of a question as a comment, Jack said softly, "See ya for supper."
Ennis spurred his horse, and took off toward the herd without a word, and barely a glance back.

They both suffered through the morning, each in his own way.
In Ennis' case, he rode quietly, deep in tormented thought. Jack would never, could never forgive being raped last night. How would Ennis ever be able to face him again? Del Mar fought a stinging, welling up in his eyes, because he'd done something horrific to a man he'd considered his friend, and now he'd have an enemy for the next couple of months.
What if Jack rode down the mountain and reported him to the sheriff while he was up here tending the sheep?
He'd be arrested, ruined, maybe lynched. His marriage plans to Alma would be destroyed.
What had he done? Why had he done it? Had he started it, dreaming of Alma, and in his slumber blindly used Jack to replace her; then when he woke up he'd gone too far to stop? It was something he never even considered before... something he'd been thoroughly taught was evil, and that he'd go to hell for. If anyone found out, they'd kill him, just like his father killed them two queers that were ranched up together when he was a boy.
That kind of "thing" was like a cancer, his father taught him, that had to be cut out before it spread. They would've shot them two fags like rabid dogs, but what was needed was a more horrific death, in order to teach everyone a lesson, so he and his friends followed long-tradition and beat them both to death with tire irons, and left their bloodied and battered corpses where everyone could see them; one tied to a fence on the main road to bleed to death, the other in an irrigation ditch not far away.
Ennis suffered an uncontrollable shudder just thinking about it.
No, he couldn't be one of those, he just couldn't be!
For the whole ride up the rocky trail, he could think of nothing else, and tried to figure out a way to apologize to Jack, but the words wouldn't come.
His mind kept wandering back to how good it felt, so natural, so... right, to hold Jack in his arms. Something wasn't right about the whole thing though; it was almost as if Twist had enjoyed being fucked.
As he cleared the crest of a hill overlooking the herd, he heard a dog crying...

Jack watched him ride away.
Did he really get Ennis drunk on purpose and then seduce him?
Why?
All Jack knew was that it felt right, but it wasn't, was not anything he'd ever even considered doing. Clearly Ennis blamed him for it. Jack had worked so hard to get Ennis' friendship, and now it was all in ashes. Del Mar wouldn't even speak to him when he rode off.
Jack tried to distract himself by setting out some ingredients for that night's meal, which he'd long before planned special. He opened a few cans, added some water and spices, and lowered the lid over the cast iron kettle, moving it slightly off the fire to cook slowly through the afternoon, like he'd seen his mother do many times.
One thing was for sure, this would have to be resolved, or the next couple of months would be unbearable.
This couldn't wait until supper.
His ass was burning and itching something awful, and he lowered his jeans to the acrid smell of shit. He undressed completely, and took a couple bars of Ivory soap to the stream, dragging the bedroll with him. Naked, he first washed himself, then used a stick to rub the shit out of the seat of his pants, rubbed the soap all over them, and the sleeping bag, later hanging them over a makeshift tripod above the cook fire to dry.
His mind kept straying back to how good it felt to have Ennis' arms around him, and how little the fucking had hurt; amazed that after a few seconds, it actually began to feel damned good, as if his life centered around a spot just behind his pubic hair. Despite the number of girls he'd fucked, and there were many, he'd never felt that sensation before, and like a potent drug, he wanted, no-needed, no-craved it again.
Standing there naked, his eyes wandered to the flock up above and to the right, but he couldn't see Ennis up there.
He didn't know how he felt, much less how Ennis felt, because he'd never been taught words that described what he was going through, but this was a bull that had to be ridden now or never.
Lifting the kettle, he stirred his concoction again and was amazed at how good it smelled.
He pulled on his clothes, now smelling fresh of soap, and came up with an excuse to ride up to see him.
Jack packed up a couple of bacon and egg sandwiches and a thermos of hot coffee in his saddle bag, to replace Ennis' missed breakfast, mounted the mare, and took off toward the high pasture.
He'd figure out what to say on the way up there...

Glancing around quickly, Ennis spotted the young dog, whining next to a nearly hollowed out and bloody corpse of one of the lambs.
Spurring Cigar Butt, he rode as fast as he could down to the herd in case the wolf was still there.
He spent most of the afternoon tracking down the son of a bitch by the blood trail, killed it, and strung it up by it's feet on a tall pole to warn off anything else that came near.
For the next hour he sat with the herd, not understanding why the death of that poor lamb hit him so hard, until he realized it wasn't that; it was how he felt about Jack that was tearing him apart.
One of the dogs came over and appeared to try to comfort him, whining and licking his face, and Ennis stroked his head and fell into a deep dark brooding.
Sometime later, while Ennis was still deep in thought, the dog jerked his head, and Ennis glanced up on the hillside to see what had caught its attention.
In the cloudy sky stood the silhouette of Jack Twist, carrying his rifle.
It was a very rare occasion when Ennis felt scared... this was one of them.
At this range, considering what he'd seen of Jack's rifle skills, he knew that even if he tried, he'd never hit him.
If the roles were reversed and Jack had raped him, would he go gunning for him?
He nodded to himself that he probably would've, and then walked over to his horse and pulled his rifle out.
Then he decided instead of riding up the hill, he'd walk to his friend, and maybe take what was coming to him, what he thought he deserved.
Better by Jack's hand than end up in some drainage ditch after torture and a lynching...

Del Mar strode straight up the steep grassy hill, never letting Twist out of his sight.
Halfway there Jack put his rifle down, making sure del Mar saw him do it, and lay on his side facing away from Ennis' advancing figure, surrounded by sheep on all sides, bleating, grazing and sleeping.
Jack heard the grass rustle under foot and looked up at him, as Ennis came up close, passed his feet by three paces to stand in front of him facing away, presenting his back as a sacrificial offered target.
Just for one fearful moment, Jack thought that Ennis had brought the rifle to shoot him. Mysteriously, the ranch hand only stood there, holding the gun, but not in a way that he was about to fire it.
Ennis thought he heard Jack let out an anxious breath, as if he'd been holding it for a long time, and wondered what that meant.
Without knowing it, both thought the other were out for revenge, neither knowing how wrong they were.
Just for one brutal moment, Ennis closed his eyes, waiting for Jack to reach for the rifle just out of his reach, and put a bullet that del Mar thought he deserved into his back. He never looked back and down at Jack, but seemed to exhale a sigh of relief for some reason when all he heard was silence and the bleating of sheep.
Somewhere in the distance a hawk cried out.
They remained there in limbo, silent for a long time, not knowing what to say to each other, both watching the brown ocean of wool flow down below them.
Without taking his eyes off the sheep, finally Ennis crouched down on his haunches. He meant to promise that it'd never happen again, and to beg his friend's forgiveness and silence. He'd rehearsed it all the way up the mountain, but the words wouldn't come out right so he settled for saying, "This is a one-shot thing we got going here," without looking back to see Jack's reaction.
Jack looked up at Ennis' back from where he lay and sadly answered, "Nobody's business but ours."
Both were still tense, but relieved that the other seemed to have forgiven the one to blame.
"You know I'm not queer," mumbled Ennis carefully, knowing it needed to be said, lest Jack think differently.
"Me neither."
They sat like that, not speaking for about half an hour.
Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Jack got up, began striding toward his horse, and asked, "You hungry?"
Del Mar only nodded.
Twist reached for the sandwiches he'd transferred to his pocket, and then changed his mind. "Come on, then."
The ride down to camp was made in complete silence. They rode side by side, each adjusting their speed to keep exact pace with each other, only pausing to detour around a tree or a boulder.
Jack rebuilt a larger campfire than usual, and surprised Ennis with some hunter's stew he'd made with meat scraps, a can of tomatoes and one of peas, potatoes he'd peeled earlier and some carrots chopped into big chunks, and some supplies and spices they'd never asked for earlier, and hadn't used.
Though Ennis wordlessly made sure Jack knew that he enjoyed the meal and appreciated the effort by eating a couple servings and mmmmmming a lot, he uttered not one single sound, which worried Twist.
Needlessly though, for the ranch hand was still convinced that Jack hated him for raping him last night, but was too embarrassed to report it to the sheriff or Aguirre, probably for fear of what people would say.
On the other hand, poor Jack still thought Ennis hated him for trying to turn him into a faggot or something.
Unable to find the right words, neither spoke, and as wolves and owls called out into the night, Twist finally gave up and crawled into the camp tent muttering, "G'night", sort of hoping Ennis would follow.
When nothing happened, he peeked outside as Ennis walked slowly over to his horse, mounted it and rode away into the darkness. Then, he bowed his head and a tear dropped from his eye. He pulled his shirt off and was just preparing to bed down for the night, when from outside, twigs snapped.
A bear or a wolf attracted by the smell of food?

The above novelization is based on Annie's work, I just embellished and enhanced it. With love Jet.

That was great Jet, it never occurred to me that Ennis may have felt like he raped or took advantage of Jack, what an interesting perspective. I always assumed he was just beating himself over his strong desire and love for another man, something he didn't even know he could feel, and was having trouble reconciling.

Now I'm going to have to watch the movie AGAIN, with this new perspective in mind.

Thanks Chantal, it'll hit you hard when you see Jack beating his clothes naked by the stream and understand why he's doing it.

None of that's in the movie or Annie's short story, I just dreamed it up to explain the mysteries to my blind friend.

Love...

Damn, Jet. I like this characterization. There are so many ways of looking at Ennis and Jack and now you've opened the door yet to another possibility. If people only knew how many men have fallen in love out on the prairies of America, they'd be amazed. We've taken a wonderful word like love and have reduced it to be akin to any other four letter word. How sad.

I wish I could get permission to have my version published, but alas, it is someone else's work after all and I'd hate for someone to screw with the novel I'm working on called "System 10"

I'm glad you liked it. It's just my thoughts about what was running through Ennis' head when it happened. You should read when he visits Jack's parents at the end!

Thanks for posting more Jet. It makes an awesome read. The copyright thing is tricky but then I read lots of fan fiction/slash & so far BBM fan fic has not attracted any controversy. I was wary of BBM fan fic at first but it helped soothe some of the movie-induced pain & also gave a new perspective on some aspects of the story. Now I can't get enough of reading about J & E & their love.
I guess yours is not a true fan fic, although there are plenty of one-parter fics that do "fill in the blanks". I hadn't thought about blind people wanting to hear the story. I know there is an audiobook of A Proux's short story but the movie version is, how shall I put it, juicier! Then of course there is the whole seemingly endless debate about story vs movie...
If you are of a mind to, there are a couple of great sites to post BBM fan fic to that would be receptive to your work. Otherwise, maybe post another snippet sometime *please*
I hope there's not a limit on the size of these comments. Ooops.
jb

Okay one more snippet, but I've got to get to the drug store for supplies-eye surgery tomorrow...

Two days later Ennis woke in his little pup tent with a start, to find his feet freezing cold. He stumbled shivering out in confusion to discover everything was covered in white after the first snow came early, piling up a foot in places, but was followed by a quick melt.
He rode down the mountain to camp, only to find Jack undoing the straps on the tent frame, as he spotted the food, and their supplies all packed in boxes ready to be piled onto the mules.
"What the hell? Why are we movin' camp?"
Jack looked over and said, "Aguirre came back up, told me my uncle lived after all, and said to bring them down."
"What? Why?"
"He said an even bigger storm is coming in off the Pacific, and he wants them down fast."
"What, but, uh, that snow only lasted an hour!" he objected. "Besides, he's cheatin' us out of a whole month's pay!"
Still busy folding the big tent, Jack considered a moment and said, "Well, if you're short, I can lend you some as soon as we get paid in Signal, be glad to do it. You can take your time payin' it back."
Ennis' pride took hold and he answered angrily, "I ain't in the poor house; I don't need your money."
Jack watched him kick at some unmelted snow in a spray of white, and then stride to a nearby tree stump. Sitting down upset, he grabbed an unused fire log, dug around in the dirt a moment, and then absently tossed it aside.
Ennis looked around and saw that everything had already been packed, and except for loading it all, they were ready to leave.
But he wasn't.
His chest tightened as he realized why he was so upset; in a day, he'd probably never see Jack again.
He thought he'd prepared himself for their coming separation, but not for a month or so, not in a few days-hours!
Jack watched his friend turn and walk slowly out about a hundred yards into the meadow, and then sit down in a crouch, within the wet high grass on the top of a knoll, tucking his head to his knees as his arms surrounded them, the tan cowboy hat hiding his face.
Ennis had pretended this was all a dream, because he knew it would have to end sooner instead of later. But like a really good dream, he woke up from it before he wanted to, and longed to go back to sleep to be back in it. He knew that when he "woke" he'd have to be normal again, marry Alma, and forget all about Jack.
As long as he was up here, he could be himself.
He hadn't prepared himself to face the fact he'd given his heart away on Brokeback Mountain.
Half an hour later, having finished packing the camp up by himself, Jack felt it too.
With one last tug on the ropes, and a look to see that the pack animals weren't going anywhere, he scanned the clearing to find Ennis still sitting there.
He reached up to his saddle and grabbed his lasso, heading toward his friend.
About ten yards from him, Jack began twirling the rope over his head, neatly landing it around Ennis' back and knees where he sat.
The wind was picking up, and smelled of snow, pine and wet wild grasses.
With a gentle tug on the rope, he softly said reluctantly, "Time to go, Cowboy."
Del Mar stood up, pulled the lasso off over his head, brushed himself off, and gave Jack a silent nod, walking ahead of him town the hill.
Jack smiled and swung the rope again, this time catching Ennis' feet, causing him to fall.
Jack giggled and jumped atop of him, meaning to give him a kiss goodbye, but Ennis struggled away and laughingly warned, "This ain't no rodeo, you," and began mock fighting him, like a calf that didn't want to be roped and tied.
With peals of laughter and grunts, they both rolled down the hill, side by side in each other's arms struggling playfully.
Then something happened, and Ennis flipped a switch in his head, maybe because he was thinking of Alma, and he started fighting for real, circling Jack's neck with his strong hands.
Something inside of him thought if he killed Jack, he'd kill the hurt of the coming separation and painlessly destroy the feelings he had for him.
Surprised, Jack fought back, and accidentally butted Ennis' face with his knee.
Del Mar stopped abruptly and stood up, wiping gushing blood from his nose on his white plaid shirtsleeve and cuff. The blow had cleared his head, and he stood dazed wondering what he was thinking.
Aghast at what he'd done, Jack jumped up, pulled him close and started wiping his nose with the sleeve of his denim shirt.
Suddenly rage and confusion welled up in Ennis at acting queer for the last few weeks. Without warning, he flattened Jack with a left hook, laying him out all curled up and moaning on the ground clutching his head.
Fearful of another blow, Jack finally looked up to see Ennis staggering to their horses, peeling off his shirt, wiping his nose with it, and searching for his spare, jamming the bloody one in his saddlebag.
Jack came carefully over, and just as he reached out for his friend, Ennis backed away from him and muttered, "Gotta piss," and took off toward the woods while Twist waited by the horses.
When he returned, Ennis stood transfixed looking at his blood all over Jack's denim shirtsleeve.
A moment later, they rode off silently.
They didn't utter a word the whole ride down. The mountain boiled with demonic energy from the sudden snowmelt, glazed with flickering broken gray cloud light; the wind combed the grass and swayed the tall pines, moaning through slit rock in a bestial drone.
As they descended the slope Ennis felt that he was in a slow motion, but headlong, irreversible fall, like an angel who'd been banished from heaven, or a child who'd been punished for a crime he didn't commit.
Jack kept rubbing the deep bruise on his left cheek next to his eye that hurt like hell.
Ennis withdrew further into himself, becoming the stoic and nearly wordless man he was before.
Jack watched it happen, helpless to do anything about it.
Both men hid the heartbreak they felt.

At the trailhead, it began raining as Jack and Ennis waited at a split-rail fence. Jack bowed his head and sniffed, knowing the rain disguised the tears running down his cheeks.
The distant foreman kept giving them pissed-off looks as he supervised the herders loading the sheep, mules and horses into trucks.
Eventually he walked over with a sheaf of paper in his hand and a sour expression. "Some of these sheep never went up there with you. The count ain't what I expected neither. You damned ranch stiffs ain't never no good."
Both young men bowed their heads and looked away.
Joe Aguirre handed them both envelopes with cash in them and walked off toward his Rambler muttering something under his breath that sounded like "fuckin' queers".
Twist and del Mar turned to move toward him, expecting a ride back to the trailer and Jack's truck, but he started it up and drove away before they reached it.
They hitched a ride back into Signal with the Chilean herder, and Ennis turned to head toward the highway to thumb a ride home. He'd thought of asking Jack for one, but needed to cut the ties fast.
A sharp knife cuts the cleanest and hurts the least.
They parted without a word, but Ennis had gotten only fifteen feet when he heard the grinding of Jack's starter.
Then he heard it again, and again.
Reversing course, he silently strode up to the truck, reached in the front of it and opened the hood. "Pump the peddle."
After fiddling a moment he shouted, "Okay, try again, and give it just a little gas!"
The starter grinded, and then caught immediately, the truck roaring in a cloud of smoke.
Ennis slammed the hood closed, and when Jack jumped out to thank him, found del Mar searching absently through his paper bag. "I can't believe I left that damned shirt up there. Oh well, I'd never have gotten the blood out of it anyways."
Ennis looked up to find Jack nodding, "Yeah," and then looked away.
"You gonna do this again next summer?" asked Jack with a hopeful tone, interrupting Ennis' continued search, one leg already up in his old pickup, his armed propped over the top of the open door.
The wind was gusting hard and cold.
He looked away from Jack's jaw; bruised blue from the hard punch Ennis had landed this morning, unable to settle his eyes on it for more than a second. He kept looking down, absently rummaging through his bag. "Oh, Maybe not," he answered finally.
A dust plume rose and hazed the air with fine grit and Ennis squinted against it. "Like I said, Alma and me's gettin married in November, so uh, I'll try to get somethin on a ranch I guess. You?"
"I'm going up to my daddy's place, and give him a hand through the winter... I might be back, if the army don't get me."
Ennis nodded nervously a lot, and finally said, "Well, I guess I'll see you around, Huh?"
The wind tumbled an empty feedbag down the street until it fetched up under the truck.
Ennis felt his heart welling up in his throat, and he decided to cut and run, and just as quickly, there was forty feet of distance between them.
Nothing for Jack to do but drive away, and as he passed Ennis on foot he looked back through the truck's mirror, till he turned the corner.
Within fifty paces Ennis felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He stumbled to his knees between two utility shacks, and tried to puke, but nothing came up. He didn't want it to end with Jack, but couldn't admit it to himself or face it either, so he did what any man would do; he began punching the wall of the building until the pain took away his unwanted thoughts. He felt about as bad as he ever had.
The throbbing in his knuckles was so intense he began sobbing.
Deep inside himself he knew why he cried, but the man in him blamed it on his sore knuckles.
A cowboy on foot came up on him and paused to see if he could help.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" he yelled ferociously, and the man retreated, figuring he was drunk.
Ennis collapsed against the wall and bawled like a little baby...

Jet, i'm speechless (not in a bad way)

Wow. Gut wrenching. I'm reliving it yet again. Jet, you must tell me about their first meeting after a few years. Tell me about that kiss. About the light that came on in Ennis' eyes when Jack came back into his life. Give me more. My want is insatiable.

Uh Silas??? that's the article itself! the whole story of how they kissed after being apart for years is the kiss that won the award that the article's about....

Damn you, Jet. I get so farklempt when caught up in Brokeback Mountain.

yeah Jet...you can't leave us hanging like this, damn.

Okay so did everyone figure out that the end of #18 fits into the beginning of #6?

Coming out of that wonder filled memory, Jack realized that Ennis had wordlessly driven away, and as his eyes focused, he watched the battered Ford with their horses aboard round a curve and disappear between the tall pines.
No goodbyes, no nothin'
Was it over between them?

It took Jack two hours, sometimes with tear-blurred eyes to drive the long miles to his boyhood home. Randall Tanny's offer to leave his wife and take Jack up to Lightning Flat to start a new life together would be impossible, unless he could free himself of a lifetime of loving Ennis.
Trying to balance the scales between the hopelessness of ever having something permanent with Ennis, and with never being able to love Randall, as much weighed heavy on his mind.
By the time he crossed the town limits of Lightning Flat and spotted his family's battered, faded and rusted mailbox, he decided he'd talk to his father about hiding the foreman away for him, but had also decided to give Ennis just one more hopeless chance to give in and show him the love he'd been hiding all these years.
After traveling about another hundred yards down the long private dirt driveway that led to the ranch house... his boyhood home, through the dust, he saw old lumber, or a post from the barbed wire fence that'd somehow fallen over, and he smiled that his new truck could run over it without even noticing.
As he bumped over it, the front right tire blew out, and, and he cussed his head off as he struggled to keep in control.
Jumping out to inspect it, he exclaimed, "Shit!"
He pulled off his jacket, slapped it across the hood over handed, and reached in to shut off the truck.
After scanning the surrounding weathered out-buildings of his youth, and hearing only crows cawing and cows, he rolled up his sleeves, got under the back of his truck, and pulled down the spare, jack, and tire iron, then set to work getting the front tire off.
A sound distracted him, as an old battered Chevy pickup pulled up behind him, that he recognized as his father's. His smile to his old man changed to surprise as the door of the passenger side opened too, and Mr. Newsome, his Father-in-law, climbed out. Two husky young blond farmhands wearing worn overalls that he'd never met before, leaped athletically out of the old bed, bouncing the back of the truck on creaking shocks, and started looking for something beside the old dirt road together.
His dad smiled, as they approached, "Trouble son?"
While Jack pondered that Newsome and his father even knew each other, much less that they were friends, his father-in-law appeared at his side, reached for the tire iron in Jack's hand and said, "Here 'Rodeo', let me help you with that."
"Well thank you," responded Jack with a surprised grin. "Rodeo" had become a nickname over the years that Lorene's old man used to deride his son in law with disrespect. Jacks brows furrowed in puzzlement because it clashed with the warm smile his father-in-law now wore.
"What happened?" his father asked.
"That post was layin' across the road," replied Jack gazing over into his dad's eyes. He turned to look for it, and found that one of the young burly strangers that'd come with them was now carrying it toward him. The other farmhand was nowhere to be found. As the stranger approached, Jack noticed it had a bunch of new shiny long nails driven through it, so that the ends were all pointing outward. As he came closer, the ranch hand gripped it like a slugger about to belt a home run out of the stadium.
The long grass rustled behind the truck.
Mystified, Jack turned to ask his father what was going on, but he wasn't there. After a moment of glancing around, he spotted him out in the wheat field about twenty yards, facing away, his head bowed and hands clasped in front of himself as if praying.
As old man Twist began reciting the Lord's Prayer, the sound of someone stumbling toward him, and loud thumps began, ending with a soft painful groan, something heavy falling at his feet in the field behind him, and the putrid smell of blood.
Old man Twist didn't look up as Newsome eventually came up beside him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, and joined him reciting softly, as something was dragged away behind them.
"Amen," they said together.
In the distance, just barely over the sound of a crow cawing came the sound of a woman wailing in agony and grief.

Guess you decided to punish us for being so pesky with that last post eh? Darn, words fail me...So I'll just wish you well for your surgery, friend.
Thanks so much for sharing these precious words,
jb.

It wasn't meant as punishment my friend, those words were as hard to write as they were for you to read. I decided to combine both theories of Jack's death into one, letting the reader think that what Loreen said was true up until the last moment, and then hitting the reader between the eyes.

I'm glad you liked it.
It makes me feel good.

Thanks for the best wishes. I have to go to my shrink's between noon and 1 at Ohio State, and then at 1:30 the surgery on both eyes occors. I may be gone for a while, but ot permanately I hope...

Silas, Just, and Chantal, Here's my take on how the story began, as a thank you for all your kind words...

PROLOGUE
And so it began one hazy early summer morning near the end of June 1963.
They were raised on small, poor ranches in opposite corners of the state, Jack Twist in Lightning Flat, up north on the Montana border, Ennis del Mar from around Sage, near the Utah line, both high-school drop-out country boys with no prospects, brought up with hard work and hardship, both rough-mannered, rough-spoken, and hardened to the stoic cowboy western type of life.

It would be Jack Twist's second summer up there, Ennis's first.

Ennis del Mar was just plain shy.
Ennis was also just shy of twenty, with sandy blond self-trimmed hair, and a rugged horseman's build. Sometimes he lamented having never graduated with the class of '62. Many in his one and only sophomore year of high school said that with a lot of cleaning up, and some training, he could've been a movie star like James Dean. Many a girl was turned on by his silent brooding, then after a while they were turned off by it too. Not many knew what color his blue eyes were, because they were always hidden beneath the brim of his ever-present cowboy hat.

Jack Twist was just nineteen. He'd always seen the rodeo as a way of getting in good with his father, who was a famous and award-winning bull rider in his day. Jack hoped for the same level of fame, though he never succeeded, or for that matter even came close. John Twist had used his rodeo winnings to buy a good-sized ranch and raise a son. Jack wanted to follow in his hero-father's footsteps, but never got any help or encouragement, so he'd decided to set out on his own, prove himself, outdo his father, then go home someday and rub it in the old man's face.
That was his dream, anyway.
Jack kept his dark hair short and trimmed neat, always wore denim, and favored a "bad guy's" black cowboy hat. He wasn't exactly conceited, just careful to look his best, hoping that the right girl would come along and think him a good catch, or the right guys would come along and accept him into their group, and he'd acquire their popularity as his own. He spent many hours memorizing funny stories, and jokes, and tried never to be without his smile.
His goal was to marry a woman prettier than his mother.
His goal was to raise a family bigger than his father's.

Both worried about the draft, going to Vietnam, and vague rumors of atomic bombs and missiles in Cuba.

CHAPTER ONE
A couple of hours before dawn, Ennis set out to thumb a ride north into town, carrying only a battered paper grocery sack containing a razor, extra blades, a spare shirt, socks and a carton of cigarettes. He didn't know about cancer; no one did back then, so he got hooked on smoking early, like most boys who wanted to look cool, and feel grown up.

After half an hour of walking with his thumb out hitchhiking, a big-rig hauling cattle, picked him up. He was left off soon after, at a dusty intersection just outside of Signal as the first pale blue light began to halo the distant mountaintops. The driver, hungry for conversation on his lonely journey to Idaho probably would've taken him all the way into town, but Ennis only answered the man's friendly questions in grunts and one-word answers, so he was dumped half a mile from his destination.
As the truck pulled away in a cloud of diesel, del Mar set off again, half asleep and on foot, for the address that he'd scrawled on an old envelope.

Meanwhile, a few hours earlier, and from another direction, Jack Twist had been pleading half the night with his old and battered GMC pickup to just give him one more half a mile, and then another and another. He didn't want to be late, and have to suffer the wrath of the foreman he'd worked for last year and considered a jerk. Thankfully he'd had the presence of mind to head south from home at midnight, thinking he'd most likely have to hitchhike the rest of the way in, when the damned thing broke down. The drive consisted of mostly begging and praising his dashboard, singing cowboy songs to his broken radio, and debating whether to kiss or kick the damned thing, when or if he arrived on time... or at all for that matter. When he finally came to Signal's town limits, the first light was coming up over the mountain. With a cough and a backfire his truck died, and he spent half an hour under it tightening old electrical tape around a leaky fuel line suspended from a bent clothes hanger.

Ennis arrived first, and found the trailer locked and unoccupied, the parking lot empty except for a couple of broken down ancient pickup trucks and tumbleweeds scurrying around with the wind. He leaned his back against the wall to the left of the wooden stairs that led up to the door, lowering his hat's brim against the bright morning sun as it cleared the crest of the mountain. He thought of his fiancée Alma and the family he hoped to raise, as he lit a cigarette, and absently watched a train rumble by, clattering past an old broken down pickup truck in the field across the road. As he pondered how his life was a lot like that truck, rusting, useless and going nowhere, the sound of something backfiring in loud bangs, came from somewhere in the distance, causing him to look up. A moment later, an old dark GMC pickup came rumbling in a cloud of dust and oil smoke around the corner and into the parking lot. Gears gnashing and clutch protesting, it came to an abrupt halt after first spitting gravel, as if the driver had resorted to throwing it into reverse to get it stopped.

His new boss?

A young cowboy decked out in worn, but fancy denim scrambled angrily out of it, and kicked the back fender, rattling it, and cussing under his breath.
The two teenagers were like different sides of the same coin. One hated the truck; the other would've given anything to have one to get around in, no matter what its ailments. Like their lives up to that point, the paint was dull and uncared for, everything was rusted and old, and not a single corner of it wasn't dented or scratched.

They'd soon find out that in many ways and for a lot of other reasons, they had a lot in common, though they themselves didn't know it.
Jack glanced over at the door of the trailer, spotted Ennis watching him from beneath the brim of his tan cowboy hat, and quickly looked away, relieved that the foreman's car wasn't there. He reached into his truck and pulled out his own sack, and a heavy coat with a worn wool collar.
They were both brought up to avoid other men's eyes, and so when their gazes met for brief seconds, they'd quickly dart away. For the next five minutes, they played an undeclared game of "eye tag". Naturally they were curious about the stranger they were about to spend the whole summer alone with.

Twist appeared to be a year or so younger than del Mar. Ennis sized him up as a "show" cowboy, who'd never rode, or done a day's decent work in his life, with his matching jeans, and shirt, plus a kerchief tied loosely around his neck. He changed his mind at the sight of well-worn cowboy boots, shined to hide their age. Averting his gaze as much as possible, Ennis noticed the muscular thighs and hardened calves beneath the close-fitting denims, and correctly guessed a rodeo cowboy, after noticing the developed biceps too. His dark hair was closely trimmed beneath a new black cowboy hat as if he'd left the barbershop only an hour ago. His broad shoulders formed a well cut "V" down to a trim waist. As he turned sideways, Ennis noticed a pair of worn black leather work gloves sticking out of his back pocket. This kid worked hard with ropes and horses, and del Mar was glad to see he was here to do his fair share of chores.
At first the young ranch hand told himself that he was only sizing up a co-worker, but strangely, Ennis was having a hard time keeping his eyes off the teenager; the swaggering way his hips moved, the gleam in his eyes, and his ready smile. He distracted himself again, by thinking of Alma, the girl he loved and planned to marry.

Turning his back to him, Jack took a different tack, and used his driver's side mirror to check the lanky ranch hand out, while shaving the same spot on his cheek over and over. The quiet stranger had moved, and was now sitting on the edge of the steps to the left of the door. From what he could tell under the loose, worn jeans and old tan coat, the young man looked to be about his age, strong and solid, with a stance of someone raised on a horse. He nodded to himself, because that was good. His partner from last summer was a lazy-assed bastard, who barely lasted till September. There was a look of shy confidence on his face, and now that Jack had his back to him, he noticed in the mirror that Ennis seemed to be openly staring at him too.
Something else about Ennis kept drawing Jack's eyes back to his mirror, but he couldn't name it, and kept shaving to distract himself.
Neither young man knew why they'd gone their whole young lives checking out other men. Both chocked it up to defensively sizing up a possible opponent in a rough fistfight, and left it at that.

A brand-new shiny '64 Rambler roared smoothly into the parking lot, coming to a dusty stop at the trailer's wooden steps, nearly hitting Ennis, who jumped out of the way at the last moment. The young ranch hand had a quick temper, but held it, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot with his new boss. The look of smirky distain on the foreman's face didn't help matters. Through the glare of the windshield, the man's eyes held a sour expression. He grabbed his hat, a stainless-steel lunch pale and a thermos, kicked the door to hold it open, and slammed it, after putting on his hat.
He'd pulled in too close to the trailer to get around the front of his new car, so he detoured around the back, Ignoring them both, as he headed between them, and up the stairs.
In the brief moment he had to size them up, the foreman declared them about as useless as a pair of deuces in a high-stakes game or five card stud, and probably as dependable.
Ennis carefully, but quickly stubbed out his smoke, and saved what was left in his pocket, while the foreman slipped his key in the lock and entered.
Jack was prepared for it, but Ennis wasn't, so when the old man abruptly pulled the door closed in del Mar's face, Ennis jumped back surprised, shrugged, and then looked questioningly back at Jack, who only snickered in explanation.
Jack posed against his truck, trying to project exaggerated, unconcerned relaxation and confidence.
Ennis frowned at him and their eyes met and locked. An electrical magnetism struck them and the world suddenly disappeared, but for the sight of each other's eyes. Neither young man understood what they were feeling, and neither were left time to name or ponder it.

"If you two deuces are lookin' for work, I suggest you get your scrawny asses in here pronto!" the foreman's brusk voice said from the suddenly opened door.

Those asses. Oh yeah. They weren't that scrawny. Thank you, Jet. You made my night.

Silas, Silas, Silas give me a few minutes and I'll bive you one LAST chapter before I go...

A middle-aged man with a South American accent suddenly entered the bar, called out their names impatiently, and drove them out to the drop off point a few miles away in the shadow of the mountain.

Jack eyed a long narrow wooden bridge above them, spanning the shallow stream. It was suspended by ropes, and looked sturdy enough for horses, but it'd take forever to get a thousand sheep across it single file. Ennis had been eyeing the river but Jack knew that sheep avoided moving water, and he had a hell of a time last summer getting them across, but this year he knew how, and it'd go a lot faster.

He turned around to see the Chilean headers babbling in Spanish or something at each other, as they painted green "brands" on each animal's back counting them off of the trucks.
The sheep trucks continuously unloaded at the trailhead, and a bandy-legged Basque showed Ennis how to pack the mules; two packs and a riding load on each animal, ring-lashed with double diamonds and secured with half hitches-telling him, "Don't never order soup. Them boxes of soup are real bad to pack."
Ennis muttered, "I don't eat soup anyways," and went back to tying knots.

Later, Twist eyed the horses, and chose a bay mare that looked like the calmest of the bunch, leading it on foot behind himself to a pack of dogs.
Three puppies belonging to one of the blue heelers went in a basket, the runt inside Jack's coat, because he instantly fell in love with the little dog. Its mother began persistently yapping at him as he climbed up on his saddle, and his horse reared up kicking at the air. He thought Ennis had just yelled something at him, but couldn't hear over the bitch barking.

Meanwhile, Ennis had already picked out a big chestnut horse called Cigar Butt to ride. Being a better judge of stock, he'd passed up the mare, and when he saw Jack try to mount it while a dog was barking at him he interrupted the Basque's instructions to yell out, "Careful, that horse has a low startle point!"

After finally getting his steed under semi-control, and riding up to a skittish stop barely astride the mildly bronking mare, Jack smirked down at him and bragged, "Ain't no mare that can throw me!" Nodding a the South American, he added, "That's his job; you want to stand there tying knots, or get the hell up the mountain?"

Ennis shrugged, mounted his horse and followed.
Half an hour later, Ennis and Jack, the dogs, the horses and mules, a thousand ewes and their lambs flowed up the trail like dirty water running up hill, through the timber and out along the tree line into the great flowery meadows and the coursing, endless wind. Jack picked a trail he knew along a gurgling steam, eventually picking up a lamb that'd fallen and hurt its leg, straddling it across his saddle scaring the puppy in his coat. His mare became skittish at a stream half a mile later, so he dismounted, slung the lamb over his shoulders, and pulled his horse behind him through the water, muttering to himself, kicking a reluctant sheep's ass in front of him as he went.

He glanced back to find Ennis with an "I told you so" look on his face. It was the first time he'd seen him smile

Jack resorted to parking the mare on the other side and crossing back and forth to forcefully coax or carry the cowardly ones through or over the water, while Ennis stayed mounted, instructing the dogs with high pitched and piercing whistles through his teeth.

Twist looked back to find that del Mar had a little one straddled across his saddle now too, and a second hanging from a bag at his right thigh.

Jack hated sheep, because he was raised in the cowboy way, and real cowboys hated sheep. Ennis, on the other hand, considered any farm animal "stock" and was indifferent to labels. Any job was a good thing, be it herding cattle, horses or sheep; they were simply things you sold and made money on, nothing more.

After another hour's travel they settled the herd far up on a hillside allotment. Though it was distant, they could see from the herd down to the campsite. When they were satisfied they'd stay put, the dogs were left to baby-sit, and the two cowboys rode together back down about half a mile, and got the big camp tent up on the Forest Service's platform, and secured the kitchen and grub boxes. Then they worked together cutting down small trees for firewood, barely speaking a word between them, always glancing back up the mountain to make sure the flock was grazing and still staying put.

Jack got busy splitting logs with a mighty swing of a new axe, while Ennis set up the iron fire grate for cooking.
Twist hoped the rancher was a better cook than he was a talker as he hauled two buckets of water up from the stream..

Jack wanted to stay in camp, but rode off up the mountain to join the flock for the night anyway. Alone with the mountain by himself, he fell deep in thought about the stirring in his loins when Ennis' thigh touched his. Jack wasn't no faggot, and distracted himself by thinking about a female barrel rider he'd had his eyes on in Texas last spring. Whenever he came to a clearing though, he looked down the valley to see Ennis' cook fire... and wondered why the ranch hand's rare smiles seemed to warm him.

Ennis got a fire going against the night's cold and bunked down in his camp tent.
Neither got much sleep, both wondering separately what had happened back in the bar, trying to figure out the compulsion to flirt with each other.

The next morning, Jack headed down for breakfast. His grin at seeing the ranch hand faded, when he noticed two cans of beans cooking over the campfire's grate, but the smell of coffee brightened his mood. Ennis lifted the lid of another pan by the fire, left there to keep warm, and revealed eggs and fried potatoes.
"I'm in love!" he gasped and took a filled plate from Ennis.
Jack said he couldn't wait to get a spread of his own so he wouldn't have to put up with Aguirre's bullshit no more.
Ennis claimed to be saving money for a small spread of his own; which meant a tobacco can with two five-dollar bills inside. He told him how he'd planned to marry Alma, when he came back down from the mountain.

After only a few days, they fell into a pattern, each feeling he could trust the other's abilities. Ennis had never done this before, but he was used to hunting, fishing, camping out and fending for himself. Ennis' sister had taught him basic cooking, so he could fry up eggs and simple things, sticking mostly to what he knew. Not knowing Jack's distain for them, he heated beans in their cans over the fire with whatever else he cooked, and had a stream cooled bottle of whiskey or a couple of beers waiting for Jack at breakfast and supper.

He eventually experimented with some redi-mix dough and fried some biscuits to go with eggs and some potatoes he'd peeled. They'd usually turn out as hard as rock, but he kept trying, and eventually he got it right, warmed by the fact that Jack seemed to appreciate the effort.

By the end of the week, Jack was already bitching about Joe Aguirre's sleep-with-the-sheep-and-no-fire order. Twist showed how stubborn he could be by refusing to pick out one of the other spare horses, which would be admitting he made a mistake selecting the bay mare.
"Ain't no mare that can throw me!" In the morning he'd saddle her, and she'd always buck him, nearly throwing him as she wheeled around, and it was the first time Jack saw Ennis laugh, "I warned you!" he declared as the rodeo cowboy just barely stayed in the saddle, and his steed galloped off as if it were trying to leave him behind.

A few days later, dawn came glassy-orange, against the pale green glow of the mist from the pines below. The sooty bulk of the mountain paled slowly until it was the same color as the smoke from Ennis's breakfast fire. The cold air sweetened, banded pebbles and crumbs of soil cast sudden pencil-long shadows, and the rearing lodge pole pines below them massed in slabs of somber blue-gray.

Throughout the day Ennis, kept feeling that odd yearning he couldn't name. He was always alone with his thoughts, basically because he'd always been taught not to share them. He'd rolled up his jeans to his calves, waded into the stream, and while cleaning the breakfast pans, looked up across a great valley to the hillside, and sometimes spotted Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow, as an insect moves across a tablecloth.

Later, Jack too, would pause often, in his dark camp, to see Ennis' night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain and wonder why he yearned for his new friend's company. He'd shrug if off as making sure he knew what direction camp was in.

They settled deeper into the routine, reluctantly, but surely.

Several times over the next few days, Jack would spot a coyote stalking the heard and shot at it, missing every time, cussing under his breath, and glad Ennis wasn't there to witness it.
More often than not, he'd lay on his back, using a log for a pillow and doze, guarded by one of the almost grown puppies. The false alarms were becoming more frequent, as the sheep seemed to bleat at anything, and he began relying on the dogs to alert him when a wolf showed up, which had become increasingly more often as they learned where the herd was bedded down. About all he could do was shoot at the predators and hope the sound scared them off, which luckily it did. Jack blamed the rifle's bent sites for all his misses, though he knew better.

Down below, it'd rain often, and Ennis passed the time waiting out a storm, in the camp tent whittling this or that, and after a while settled on a little wooden horse for his future son, that'd be later joined by a toy cowboy astride it that looked a lot like Jack. Sometimes he'd hear Jack's gun blasts, and wonder what he'd gotten, but quickly deduced he'd mostly missed, because the rodeo cowboy would've been braggin' his head off when he came down for supper, but never did.

Friday morning, Jack squatted at the fire to eat breakfast. Another can of beans, some eggs and more of Ennis' strange campfire biscuits, while watching him prepare the pack mules to go down for supplies.

He spotted Ennis scrawling on a piece of paper and said, "Don't forget whiskey and beer. Don't forget ammo for the rifle neither; lots of coyotes up there."

Ennis nodded and jotted down something.
Jack walked over, mounted his skittish horse, and farted, glancing back red-faced to see if Ennis had heard. The ranch hand looked away just before their eyes met.
As he spurred the mare on, Twist yelled out "No more beans!"
Del Mar nodded, but Twist was gone in the time it took for him to look up.

I love you, Jet.

Jet.....wow, thanks so much for the read.

My internet was down for the past 24 hrs (W.O.W. sucks) and I just got it back working, I wanted to wish you well before your surgery.

My prayers are with you. :)

I love you too Silas, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Thanks Chantal, pray for my belief in anything positive coming from prayer. I've endured a year and a half of hell, and no prayer has helped.

I've had whole churches pray for me.

I feel you love, I just wish I could feel God's love.

I've been praying for other people instead of myself, for my sister not to lose her home, for my father not to die.

Faith is a hard thing to get back once you've lost it. Hope is too

WARNING!!! You'll never be able to watch the end of this movie again the same way after reading this...

Ennis drove the road to Lightning Flat went through desolate country past a dozen abandoned ranches distributed over the plain at eight and ten-mile intervals, houses sitting blank-eyed in the weeds, corral fences down.

The mailbox read "John C. Twist." The ranch was a meager little place, leafy spurge taking over. The stock was too far distant for him to see their condition, only that they were black baldies.

Part way up the lane, he brought his truck to a stop as he came to a place where the brown wheat had been burned. It was a narrow strip maybe five feet wide, but about twenty yards long.
Leaving the motor idle, he got out to look at it.
His first though was that someone poured gasoline on it to burn out an underground hornet's nest, but it didn't look right.
A lightning strike?
No, as far away from the house as it was, the whole field would've burned before someone could come along and put it out.

Around him crows cawed and horses whinnied. He looked around and then got back behind the wheel. Sitting there, he pondered what else might've caused it, and a scene flashed before his eyes of men chasing Jack into the field, beating him as he tried to get away, then later dragging him back to his truck. Later they'd burn only that part of their valuable crop, to destroy the bloodstains.

It was the tire iron, it had to be, and Jack's father probably did it, later having his own son cremated to hide the evidence.

An angry rumble began in his ears.

He leaned over to push a chromed button in the dash, and the glove box popped down, revealing an always-loaded revolver that he'd bought last week. He'd never in his life before thought of murdering someone, but to avenge Jack's death, he considered it.

He'd called ahead, so they knew he was coming out here, but not when, so he doubted an ambush was waiting, but he was ready for it.
He shifted back into gear and pressed on.

At the end of the lane, he came up on an old house and a couple of out buildings. The years of rain and wind had nearly scoured the white paint off the old wood, except up near the eaves.
A roofless platform porch stretched across the side of the dreary house, a broom leaning next to the door.

He hadn't made it out of his truck, when the door opened and an older thin woman in a plain housedress opened the door and gestured a welcome to him.
They wouldn't do it in front of a woman.
The gun stayed where it was.

Moments later, Ennis sat at the old and worn kitchen table with Jack's father opposite him. Jack's mother, stout and careful in her movements as though recovering from an operation. She said, "Want some coffee, don't you? Piece a cherry cake?"

"Thank you, Ma'am, I'll take a cup a coffee but I can't eat no cake just now."

The old man sat silent, his hands folded before him, staring at Ennis with an angry, knowing expression. Ennis recognized in him a not uncommon type with the hard need to be the stud duck in the pond. Jack had referred to his father-in-law as one once. He couldn't see much of Jack in either one of them, and took a breath.

Feeling tears well up behind his eyes, Ennis said softly, "I feel awful bad about Jack. Can't begin to say how bad I feel. I knew him a long time. I come by to tell you that if you want me to take his ashes up there on Brokeback like his wife says he wanted, I'd be proud to."

His mother placed a cup and saucer in front of him, and he muttered and nodded a thanks to her.
There was a silence. Twist seemed to be eyeing a sideboard where maybe a gun was hidden. Fighting down fear of the pure hatred in Jack's father's eyes, Ennis cleared his throat but said nothing more.

The old man said from a clenched jaw, "Tell you what, I know where Brokeback Mountain is. He thought he was too goddamn special to be buried in the family plot."

Mrs. Twist showed tender concern for her guest, despite her husband, despite the man who may have perverted her boy was sitting in her very kitchen. She may have believed in the Pentecost, but she knew too that her son had loved this man. Since witnessing her son's death at a distance, secretly her husband had become her enemy, and the enemy of your enemy was your friend.

For a moment she was lost as to what she'd do if this man killed her husband as much to avenge himself as to calm her grief.

Ennis seemed transfixed in Twist's eyes, wishing now he'd brought that pistol with him.

Looking across the room from where she stood near the kitchen, she recognized the hatred in her husband's eyes. Jack's mother ignored this, and almost to defy him, she moved to tenderly lay a comforting hand on Ennis' shoulder and said gently, "He used a come home every year, even after he was married and help his daddy on the ranch for a week, fix the gates and mow and all. I kept his room like it was when he was a boy and I think he appreciated that. You are welcome to go up to his room if you want."

Jack's father's eyes flickered toward his wife with pure resentment, then returned to Ennis, eyeing him with a lethal mixture of bitterness and hatred.

The old man spoke. "Jack used a say, 'Ennis del Mar,' he used a say, 'I'm goin a bring him up here one a these days and we'll lick this damn ranch into shape.' He had some half-baked idea the two a you was goin a move up here, build a log cabin, and help me run this ranch and bring it up. Then this spring he's got another one's goin a come up here with him and build a place and help run the ranch, some ranch neighbor a his from down in Texas name of Randall. They were both goin a split up with their wives and come back here. So he says. But like most a Jack's half-baked ideas, it never come to pass."

Ennis' heart froze and his throat tightened: Jack had found someone else. He wanted to cry, for he knew he was the one who drove the man that only now he could admit to himself that he'd loved away, and this was the punishment.

Avoiding his eyes, Ennis, glanced at her, glanced up the stairs, then back at her for permission.
She sadly nodded, and he stood, walking across the creaking floor and forced himself not to look back, again hoping he hadn't made a bad decision leaving the gun in the truck. Wondering if he could summon the guts to kill the man he was now convinced killed Jack... his own son.

The bedroom, at the top of a steep stair that had its own climbing rhythm, was tiny and hot, afternoon sun pounding through the west window, hitting the narrow boy's bed against the wall, and reflecting onto a wooden chair, a B.B. gun in a hand-whittled rack over the bed. Ennis caught his breath as he spotted the little wooden horse and cowboy that he'd whittled so many years ago while waiting out a rainstorm on the mountain. Jack had lovingly kept it as a souvenir on an ink-stained desk. He sat wearily on a boy sized wooden bench by a steam radiator next to the window, which looked down on the gravel road stretching south and it occurred to him that for Jack's growing-up years that was the only road he knew.

Outside was only the sound of livestock and crows. No other cars were in sight, and he relaxed a little.

An ancient magazine photograph of some dark-haired movie star was taped to the wall beside the bed, the skin tone gone magenta. He could hear Jack's mother downstairs running water, filling the kettle and setting it back on the stove, asking the old man a muffled question.
The closet was opposite of him, and he got up to distract himself to look inside.

He found two pairs of jeans crease-ironed and folded neatly over wire hangers, and on the floor a pair of worn packer boots he thought he remembered.
Amongst the shirts hanging neatly there, was the jacket that Jack had worn the last time Ennis had seen him on the mountain. It was true, he'd been here, but never left, otherwise the coat would have left with him.

A roar filled his ears, as he knew now that it was true... they'd killed him.

Ennis' throat tightened again against a sob that was fighting to escape.

At the north end of the closet a tiny jog in the wall made a slight hiding place and here, stiff with long suspension from a nail, hung a shirt. He lifted it off the nail; Jack's old denim shirt from their Brokeback days. Ennis' eyes began burning as he knew that the dried blood on the sleeve was his own blood, a gushing nosebleed on the last afternoon on the mountain when Jack, in their horseplay, grappling and wrestling, had slammed Ennis's nose hard with his knee. He had stanched the blood, which was everywhere, all over both of them, with his shirtsleeve, but the stanching hadn't held, because Ennis had suddenly swung from the deck and laid Jack out in the wild columbine.

The shirt seemed oddly heavy until he saw there was another shirt inside it, the sleeves carefully worked down inside Jack's sleeves. It was his own white plaid shirt, lost, he'd thought, long ago up on that mountain, his dirty shirt, nose blood still on the cuff where he'd wiped it, the pocket ripped, buttons missing, stolen by Jack and hidden here inside Jack's own shirt, the pair like two skins, one inside the other, two in one.

As tears burned his eyes and his nose clogged, he pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack, but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands. He tried to remember, and then imagine Jack's loving body within it, and choked on the memory, clutching it tightly to his chest as he finally sobbed out his sorrow and grief.

He wiped his acid tears on the soft denim, and swore not to leave this house without it.
Barely containing his grief and anger, he found himself at the bottom of the stairs, trying to find the words to ask permission to take the item he had in his trembling hands.

To his relief, Jack's mother seemed to read his mind, nodded silently and went to the kitchen to fetch an empty paper grocery bag. He was reluctant to let it leave his hands, as she gently took it from him, gave him a reassuring smile.

Her gaze fell on the blood stained white plaid shirt, and she realized Jack's denim shirt was hidden within it.

Her eyes showed brief pain, then swiftly flickered toward her husband, satisfied he wasn't watching, and then locked again on Ennis.
A bond was silently exchanged between them, with a promise of a secret kept.

If she noticed the shirt inside the shirt, she didn't show him she had, and silently handed the bag to him after carefully folding everything inside of it.

Jack's damned father refused to let his ashes go. "Tell you what... we got a family plot and he's goin in it." Jack's mother stood beside del Mar, caressed his shoulder gently and said, "You come again," as she opened the door.
Ennis nodded to them both, silently thanked her for the precious package he held, and made it to the truck before he burst out in tears, beating the steering wheel with balled up fists.

Bumping down the washboard road Ennis passed the country cemetery fenced with sagging sheep wire, a tiny fenced square on the welling prairie, a few graves bright with plastic flowers, and didn't want to know Jack was going in there, to be buried on the grieving plain.

A few weeks later, on a Saturday, he threw all his dirty horse blankets into the back of his pickup and took them down to the Quik Stop Car Wash to turn the high-pressure spray on them. When the wet clean blankets were stowed in the truck bed he stepped into Higgins' gift shop and busied himself with the postcard rack.
"Ennis, what are you lookin for, rootin through them postcards?" said Linda Higgins, throwing a sopping brown coffee filter into the garbage can.
"Scene of Brokeback Mountain."
"Over in Fremont County?"
"No, north a here."
"I didn't order none a them. Let me get the order list. They got it I can get you a hunderd. I got a order some more cards anyway."

"One's enough," said Ennis.

Jet, my darling, you're in my thoughts and prayers. Never, ever discount the power of positive thinking. It's gotten millions through the scourge of religious intolerance. In the end, God does care.

I'm typing this with tears in my eyes. I think this was the saddest movie ending ever, and you capture it, filling in the blanks, so beautifully here, Jet.

Jet,
Thank you again for sharing. You have a wonderful way with words, so readable - despite the subject matter being hard to read at times. I think you're working on a book so glad that talent's not going to waste. Sorry to hear you have been/are going through tough times - sending you a vibe of support via this ineffective cyber medium for what it's worth :) Here's hoping hope will come back to you soon & remember the message you took away from Brokeback - whatever it was, it must have been positive because it inspired you enough to write these beautiful words.
jb

Thank Annie, I just expanded on her work, and on the work of the movie's writers. Glad you enjoyed it.

Jet, in another lifetime I would ask you to marry me.

Jet Kain, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm or Mmmmmmmmmm? I could always ask ArchBoingBat to be best man, if only to ascertain his secret superhero identity!

Speaking of Gay Superheroes-whatever happened to SteveS, I keep writing all these things and not a peep out of him?

Well I was going to put another scene up, but since you're all bored with it...

SteveS, wheh you get time, tell me what you think of my novelizations here!

Very well written, I look forward to reading your book!

Thank you Steve. I've been thinking of trying to make some money some how by posting System 10 a chapter at a time and asking for donations. Steven King did that, but I don't know if he made any money.

I'm glad you enjoyed it...

let me know if it's successful, ironically I blogged tonight about doing something very similiar.

Jet...we're not bored...if you have more....do share!

Okay SteveS and Chantal, just for you...

...Jack spent the rest of '63 at his father's ranch, mending fences, harvesting crops, plowing fields and tending to the stock.

Northern Wyoming had a rough winter that year.
1964 rolled around, and Ennis was still never far from his mind, and after spring planting, summer couldn't come fast enough. He'd put in an application to work up on Brokeback again, but had heard nothing back, so he figured it'd gotten lost in the mail.

In June Jack was drawn back to the office trailer in Signal, so he made the long drive, hoping that maybe del Mar's plans to get married had fallen through, and Ennis had already signed up for more shepherding.

By then he'd come to accept the jack-off fantasies he kept experiencing in the nearly year since he parted ways with del Mar. They'd start out with him fucking some really sexy girl and end up with him being the one being fucked under Ennis, Twist exploding just as they both shot their loads together.

As he pulled into the wind blown dirt and gravel parking lot, he spotted Aguirre's car.
Pounding loudly on the door, he still hoped Ennis had been there.

The foreman's voice held an aggravated tone, "Yeah?"

Jack entered, removed his hat and Aguirre looked up to blink at him, almost not believing his eyes. He shook his head, and then returned his gaze to his paper work, contemptuously remarking, "Well, look what the wind blew in."

Twist nodded and replied, "Howdy, Mr. Aguirre. Will you be needin' any help this year?"

Chewing on a toothpick, the foreman just looked off in the distance, not bothering to meet Jack's eye. "You're waistin' your time here Twist."

Jack frowned, almost turned to leave, but wasn't ready to give up yet. "You ain't got nothin'?" then after a pause, added, "Nothing up on Brokeback?"

Aguirre turned to face him in his squeaky desk chair, and as his hateful eyes were lit by the desk lamp, he said, "I ain't got nothing for you, Twist."

Jack felt the man's disgust, but stood his ground till he saw the foreman's eyes, and finally got the message. The son of a bitch had seen them last summer with those binoculars. He turned to leave, but figured he had nothing to lose, so he turned back and asked, "Has Ennis del Mar, been by here?"

Aguirre's expression turned to pure contempt, "Twist, I wasn't payin' to let the dogs baby-sit the sheep while you two stemmed the rose." Aguirre looked away and then spat out a warning, glancing toward a tire iron sitting on the counter by a pair of work gloves, "Now get out of my trailer."

Jack swallowed hard, nodded, and put his hat back on. He wasted no time, and slammed the door behind himself.

As he backed his truck out, he wasn't paying attention, and came up tailgate against bumper at Aguirre's Rambler. The contact was gentle enough not to be heard, and his surprise turned to bravado. With a touch of the gas, both taillights crunched, and with a smile, he shifted into first and intentionally popped the clutch spraying driveway gravel at the car and the office trailer.

A few blocks away, he pulled over and rested his forehead on the steering wheel, and felt like sobbing, though tears wouldn't come. He wasn't sure if he were afraid of the threat Aguirre had made, or disappointed at not finding Ennis. As Ennis had done a year before, he punched the metal dashboard as an excuse for the pain he felt.
Putting it in gear, he drove off, and eventually came to an intersection and stopped.

Should he try to find Ennis somewhere near here, or head south? North was out of the question; he'd had his fill of his father all winter and spring.

He'd heard some things about finding male prostitutes in Mexico, shrugged that he had nothing better to do, and figured maybe he'd become one after he ran out of money; servicing women, and the occasional man.

Gunning the motor, he turned left.

Six months later, he wondered what would've happened if he'd actually made it there had the truck not broken down. He'd had second thoughts all the way there anyway, and instead decided to look up the barrel riding cowgirl he'd eyed last spring, and in the process entered himself in the bull riding competition in a rodeo in Childress Texas.

He did fairly well, but only managed to come in second or worse in most places on the circuit, which wasn't enough to make much of a living.
The strenuous exercise turned his once-boyish body into a defined man's well defined but bruised build.

Bull riding was taking its toll on his back and legs too. His nighttime thoughts became divided between Ennis, and the female groupies that tagged along with him from rodeo to rodeo. He may not have been winning much, but he only needed to pull his shirt off in the parking lot, to bed any girl he liked-sometimes two at a time.

Still it didn't satisfy him, and one night after a particularly grueling night of bull riding, a rodeo clown caught his eye in the corral. The man under all that comic makeup made him look like a 90-pound weakling that'd just had sand kicked in his face. Later that afternoon, Jack nearly got stomped to death, paying attention to him instead of the bull that'd just thrown him.
It took him a while, but he finally figured out why; he reminded him of Ennis.

Later on that evening, he sat in a dark bar eyeing the girls, and incidentally the young guys playing pool within a haze of cigarette smoke.
A tall good-looking shorthaired blond man with a woven stark white cowboy hat entered. The overhead light at the door, bounced off his white Stetson and the shoulders of his shirt, causing a flash that made heads turn in the dim room.
Jack frowned to himself a moment and then realized it was the clown he'd been eyeing earlier.

He looked to be in his early twenties, in a pair of "tight enough to be painted on" Levis, black boots and a fancy white cowboy shirt that highlighted his V-shaped muscular torso and arms. The young man was spectacular and knew it, possessing the pecs, the swagger, the biceps, the slim waist and the impossible crotch bulge of a Greek god.

He also possessed a heart-melting grin, which never left his face.

A few days earlier, Jack had found some badly printed flyers in the trash for some homosexual prostitution house down in Mexico. The jack-off fantasy that resulted later that night, looked just like this guy, making Twist wonder.

All eyes couldn't help but follow him cross the room, both male and female.

The cowgirls wanted his body; the cowboys wanted his leftovers.

His face didn't look as much like Ennis' as he'd thought, but that body kept drawing his gaze, and quickened his breath. Scenarios of getting him drunk and using his prize money to spend the night with this Adonis in some cheap motel, began filling his head, as the hunk came up to the rail and ordered a beer.

Before he could wonder why, or chicken out, Jack found himself walking the length of the bar rail to stand next to him.

To the bartender, Jack said, "I'd like to buy ol' Jimbo here a beer," giving the hunk a bright smile.
The bartender nodded, and the lanky man next to him gave him a quizzical glance and shook his head no as Jack laid a dollar on the bar.
Just then a pretty bar girl went by, the clowns eyes following her hips.

Jack'd made a bad mistake and knew it, with everyone watching. Now all he had to do was get out of the situation. Thinking fast, he added quickly, "The best damned rodeo clown I ever worked with!" was a good excuse to buy another man a beer.

The brawny object of his hopes, only straightened to his full six-foot-five, and answered, "No thanks." Speaking to the bartender he said, "If I took liquor from every cowboy I ever pulled a bull off of, I'd be an alcoholic by now."

The bartender chuckled as the clown shoved his own dollar forward, pushing Jack's away in the process and said to Twist, "You keep your money," as he turned away with his bottle. Over his shoulder he added, "Save it for your next entry fee."

Jack watched the man and his hips stroll over to the guys at the pool table, as they all gathered around him, then looked his way.

"You ever think of changing to ropin'?" the bartender asked his back.

Jack turned around and tersely replied, "Do I look like I can afford a roping horse?" slapped his dollar across to pay for his own drink, and made his way quickly out of the bar.

Outside, a good-looking girl sidled up to him and asked if he had any plans.
He took that as a sign, escorted her back up to his cheap room over the bar, and fucked her silly repeatedly over the next few weeks, deciding to give up on men, unless it was Ennis...

If you're trying to read it in order here's an index so far...

#35 Prologue-And so it begins
#38-Up the Mountain
#18-Aftermath
# 6-Making Love
Main Article-Little Darlin'
#25-Exiles from Heaven
#57-Clownin' Around
#32-The Lord's Prayer
#43-A Mother's Pact

there's still unposted

-It could be like this always
-My dad was right!
-To Alma and Kurt
-I wish I could quit you

and a few more

For obvious reasons Idon't think I can post the sex scenes

keep posting what you can Jet.....we're all really enjoying it here.

Click on my URL to see three Big pictures of their great kisses!

This scene takes up after the kissing scene fromt he main article...

As always this is based on Annie's work, I just fleshed it out...

They exchanged a look that ended the passion and they immediately began straightening their clothes, combing their hair with their fingers to straighten it. Ennis bent over, picked up Jack's hat, and as he handed it to him, gestured with his head up his own set of stairs to their apartment.

A few anxious moments later, they both appeared in the upper front hallway.
Alma gave Ennis a knowing look but said nothing, but he knew that she knew, or maybe had seen.
What could he say? "Alma, this is Jack Twist. Jack, my wife, Alma."

His chest was heaving. He could smell Jack--the intensely familiar odor of cigarettes, musky male sweat, and a faint sweetness like grass, and with it the rushing cold of the mountain. "Alma," he said, "Jack and me ain't seen each other in four years." As if it were a reason. He was glad the light was dim on the landing but did not turn away from her.

"Sure enough," said Alma in a low voice. She had seen what she had seen. Behind her in the room, lightning lit the window like a white sheet waving and Jenny cried.

"You got a kid?" said Jack. His shaking hand grazed Ennis's hand, electrical current snapped between them.

"Two little girls," Ennis said. "Alma, Jr., and Jenny. Love them to pieces."
Alma's mouth twitched.

"I got a boy," said Jack. "Eight months old; he smiles a lot. I married the cutest girl in Texas down in Childress--Lorene."

From the vibration of the floorboard on which they both stood Ennis could feel how hard Jack was shaking.

"Alma," he said. "Jack and me is goin out and get a drink. Might not get back tonight, when we get drinkin and talking and all."
"Sure enough," Alma said, taking a dollar bill from her purse. After what she'd just seen, she didn't want her husband and the father of her children running off with this man until she could figure out a way to compete with him.

Ennis guessed she was going to ask him to get her a pack of cigarettes, to bring him back sooner.
"Pleased to meet you," said Jack, trembling like a run-out horse.

"Ennis," said Alma in her misery voice, but that didn't slow him down on the stairs and he called back, "Alma, you want smokes there's some in the pocket a my blue shirt in the bedroom."

They went off in Jack's truck, bought a bottle of whiskey, and within twenty minutes were in the Motel Siesta jouncing a bed. A few handfuls of hail rattled against the window, followed by rain and a slippery wind banging the unsecured door of the next room then and through the night.

All evening sex scenes edited by author

Jack fled to the shower, and moments later Ennis joined him in the tiny tiled cubicle.

Sex in shower scene edited out by author

Ennis finished first and after toweling himself off, left for the bedroom.

Jack entered the room a moment later to find Ennis sitting naked on the far corner of the foot of the bed, bent over with his cheeks on his palms and his elbows on his knees facing away.
Del Mar didn't even look up, as though he were ashamed. His head was filled with thoughts of Alma and the girls, and how much he loved them... and how much more he loved Jack.

Twist lay down on the right side of the bed and after a moment, Ennis scooted diagonally up on his back across the sheets to rest the back of his head on Jack's chest with his big feet hanging off the opposite corner.

After a moment, Jack wrapped his arm around Ennis' head as the nape of his neck rested against his shoulder and chin.

As with all men, it was sex first, conversation and cigarettes later. With Alma it was doing his husbandly duties and get it over with; with Jack it was as if he couldn't get enough, like once they started he couldn't reach the reins to slow the horse down, out of control, passion and lust.

It was something only men understood.

"Four fuckin' years," exclaimed, Jack in a whisper distracting Ennis from his thoughts.
Ennis nodded, "Yep, four years."
Jack whispered, "I thought I'd never see you again."
Ennis chuckled as he flicked an ash into the ashtray perched on his chest. "I just figured you were sore about that punch."

Jack blew forceful cigarette clouds like whale spouts, and said, "Christ, it's got to be all that time of yours on horseback that makes it so goddamn good. We've got to talk about this. Swear to God I didn't know we were going to get into this again." He paused to stroke Ennis' hair and admitted, "Yeah, I did. It's why I'm here. I fuckin' knew it. Red-lined the tach all the way, couldn't get here fast enough; doubt if I did less than 90 the whole way up."

Ennis silently flicked another ash into the tray on his chest. His responsibility to his family weighed heavily on his mind, and he barely heard Jack through his thoughts.

He was busy weighing Alma and the girls on one side of the scales and what really made him happy on the other.

"I was in Texas rodeoin'. How I met Lorene. Look over on that chair."

On the back of a soiled orange chair he saw the shine of a buckle. "Bull ridin?"

"Yeah. I made three fuckin thousand dollars that year. Fuckin starved. Had to borrow everything but a toothbrush from other guys. Drove grooves across Texas. Spent half the time under that cunt truck, fixin it. Now Lorene: there's some serious money there. Her old man's got it. Got this farm-machinery business. Course he don't let her have none of ti, and naturally he hates my fuckin guts..."

"Army didn't get you?" A bright flash of light lit the window, and after a few moments, thunder sounded far to the east..

"No, I was too busted up. I'm got out while I still could walk. Got some crushed vertebrates. And a stress fracture, the arm bone here, you know how bull riding you're always levering it off your thigh, she gives a little every time you do it. Even if you tape it good you break it a little bit at a time. Tell you what, hurts like a bitch afterward. Had a busted leg in three places. I got out of rodeo just in time; it ain't like it was in my old man's day. Now, Lorene's old man... I know enough about the game to know he'd do just about anything to get rid of me, 'cause now that he's got his grandson, I'm useless to him."

Ennis just nodded, and said. "You sure as hell seem in one piece to me. You know, I was sitting up here all that time trying to figure out if I was... if I was, I mean I know I ain't. I mean, here we both got wives and kids, right? I like doing it with women, yeah, but Jesus H., ain't nothin' like this was tonight or back on Brokeback. I never had no thoughts of doing it with another guy except I sure wrang it out a hunderd times thinking about you."

Ennis closed his eyes tightly, he'd almost used the word "love"... something men weren't supposed to say to each other.

Jack smiled and replied, "Old Brokeback got us good." Love weighed heavily on his mind too. He'd all but said he'd leave his wife and son for Ennis, now it was all up to him. Twist thought a moment and then asked with a prayer for the answer he was silently hoping for, "Well, what do we do now?"

Ennis' inhaled a slow thoughtful breath. "There ain't much we can do. I got my hands full here just trying to feed my family and make a living. We're both committed to our families, Jack, there's not much more we can do."

Jack's heart sank, along with his hopes. He changed the subject and they spent the next hour or so talking about their separate lives, how Aguirre greeted Jack the summer of '64, and how Jack peppered his car with gravel.

Ennis laughed and told Jack about meeting the foreman at a church social, and him not remembering him, even offering him a job up on Brokeback last year.

Ennis inhaled a long thoughtful breath, and then exhaled, "I gotta get home, Alma'll be worried. I gotta be at work early tomorrow too."
As he tried to get up, Jack pulled Ennis to him and kissed him full on the mouth as the ashtray fell to the floor.
"Not just yet, cowboy."
They turned off the lights and cuddled in each other's arms. Ennis kissed his way down to Jack's

Edited by author

which he almost never did when they were on the mountain and they passionately went at it again until they fell sound asleep.

The next morning after waking up in each other's arms,----Edited by author---- cleaned up and headed back to Ennis' place. On the way there, it hit them both that unless they did something about it, they'd never see each other for another long stretch, and were saddened by it.

It took some fast-talking, but Jack finally talked Ennis into seeing things his way, at least for the time being. They agreed to head for the mountain right away.
Unfortunately Jack read more into it than was there, because while Ennis was finally facing just how much he craved Jack, that secret fear; the one that his father had bred into him,