Chapter Text
Chapter 1
He didn't know what day it was. He didn't know the time. All Jack knew his eyes were open, but he couldn't see.
He couldn't see.
Even now, when he'd open them the disappointment overwhelmed him. All real, too real. The world was now a dark place. Dark and dead.
"What the hell, I might as well be dead," he thought. For once he agree with LD: "I'm no good to nobody no how. Just a mangy blind dog beggin' for scraps."
At first Jack'd been bitter. Hated. Hated so hard. Knew old LD made him dead. Legal and final. Dead by the road. Dead to his family, dead to the world. Hated LD for callin' Jack dead and leavin' him in a hospital south of the boarder. El Hospital General de Nuevo Laredo. Weeks upon weeks. God awful pain he coulda stood--not seein' made him hate. Hated LD already--he began hatin' life too.
Pain went away. Cuts healed. Scars faded. Jack quit hatin' instead he started quitin'. Better that way. Not carin' and not wantin'. Thought it was best that way. Stay dead to world since he was half a man.
Jack rolled over in the rusty bunk called a bed. All he had in the world now was this small one room shack and this rock-hard, lump of a bed. Place all cramped up, stinking of vomit and cheap cigarette smoke. Stayed here most days and nights because leavin' took more effort than stayin' was worth. The obstacle course began three steps straight out the front door. Started with old shoes, broken bottles, abandoned toys. Old winding creek littered with old railroad ties, half-submerged tires next. Fetid puddles of human waste pooled near the west side of his shack. Smelled bad on hot nights like these--worse yet when it rained--slippery rivers formed, always changing direction sliding into the Rio Bravo del Norte. Walkin' was dangerous in other respects. Blind man was an easy mark. Not that he had anything. Some of those kids cared. Echoes of laughter from seeing a blind man fall in shit kept Jack inside the shack. Used to swear back, swing at them. Too much effort now.
"Would never leave if it weren't for them busy-body nuns from the Sisters of Mercy," Jack thought. "Welcome to Los dos Laredos. Also sorts of help straight from across the Rio Grande."
The Sisters made him walk. Made him talk. Made him think. Tried to make him hope. What good was prayin'?
Jack curled up and closed his sightless eyes. Too many nights he tried not to think and wished not to dream.
'Cause dreamin' was the hardest. Could see in his dreams. See and miss what he didn't have. See Bobby, eyes all wide and laughing. See Ennis lookin' down on him, eyes moist. See Brokeback. Then those times Jack'd wake up, sweatin' and breathin' hard, seeing those men's faces filled with hate. Hate so deep and strong Jack couldn't fight against it-- couldn't run either. Night after night, Jack wished to never see them again, but night after night, he saw them.
Jack reached to scratch his sticky back. Couldn't get comfortable on this rock-hard mattress. Made him wakeful, and bein' wakeful made him think. Now he was thinking too much. Thinkin' on Ennis. Thinkin' on that last time together and all those words they'd said. Silent tears trailed their way into his flat pillow. Jack knew he'd done right leavin' Ennis to think he'd died. Ennis could start over, should start over. Forget Jack.
Besides, if Ennis saw Jack like this, what would he do? "Ennis would be with me. Feel sorry for me. Wouldn't be no sweet life."
Jack loved Ennis too much to live on pity.
--------------------------------
One over the other. Right where their hearts beat.
Ennis brushed his hand across their shirts, resting on the pocket. Ennis smiled, slow and sad like. The wedding had been perfect. Junior beautiful. Cheeks flushed, her eyes danced as she said her vows. Ennis had listened careful as his little girl's voice sang out, "I do." He'd tucked his head down, thinking how those two words he'd said didn't sound like that--not to Alma. Heart never was in it. Heart was always somewhere else.
Times like these made him think hard on Jack. Think so hard it hurt. The tips of his fingers lingered on awhile longer, then Ennis wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Heart ached somethin' fierce.
Ennis started. Phone ringin' made him jump from his thoughts.
"Damned thing," Ennis mumbled. "Don't know why I let Junior talk me into it."
Ennis made his way toward the ringing. Had to admit that it was nice havin' a connection to his girls this way. Was probably his youngest, all bubbly from the reception and ready to talk.
Ennis answered. Dial tone buzzed. Been happenin' a lot lately. Pick up the phone and no one there. Ennis hung up and made for bed. Shucked off his nice dress pants and shirt, down to skin. Just him and the sheets, fan blowin' cool. Just fallin' to sleep when the phone rang. Ennis rolled over, covered his ears. Wouldn't stop. Rang and rang. Then he got to thinkin', what if somethin' happened to one of his girls.
Threw back the sheets. Jumped up. Stubbed his toe on the cupboard gettin' there.
"Hello?" he gasped, swearing under his breath.
"Is this Ennis Del Mar speakin'?"
Ennis shivered. The women's voice--he knew it. Hadn't heard it but once, but he'd never forget it.
"Yes," he said, "this is Ennis Del Mar."
"Mr. Del Mar," he heard her sigh, then hold her breath and let it out slow. "Don't know how to begin-- don't know at all. Just know that I had to find you, talk to you about Jack. There's something you need to know. I've known it for awhile..."
Ennis heard the phone crackle, waitin' for the words to fall like a hammer--how Jack died, why he died, that it was his fault.
What Ennis didn't expect what she told him next: "He's alive. Jack's alive."
-------------------------------------
Jack groaned. The Sisters were back. Always checkin' on him, makin' him walk and count and listen and feel. Sometimes he'd say hateful things to them, but it never worked--Jack'd alway'd say he was sorry in the end. He was plenty sorry these days. Jack guessed he was just a sorry excuse of a man.
Jack threw his legs out of the bed and hollered, "Come in."
He listened as feet shuffled across the old floor board. Paper crinkled and cans dropped onto to his orange-crate of a table.
"Señor Twist, we brought food..."
Always so damn chirpy. Too damn chirpy to be delivering Spam. "Gracias sisters." Better to show some gratitude. Never knew, might help some in the afterlife too.
"..and toiletries."
Afterlife be damned.
"La, de, da. What do I need them for? No one here to impress."
One of the younger sister's stifled a giggle. Probably young and pretty.
Smelled tortillas and beans.
"We have mail for you also, Señor Twist."
"Mail?" No one knew he where was but old LD Newsome. "Ads?"
Must be, not even LD would write to a blind man.
-------------------------------------
Chapter 2
Ennis stamped the mud off his boots on the rickety pine plank step. Old trailer leaked. Shoulda patched it with tar long ago. Poured hard last night, mud all over outside, buckets with rainwater inside. He pushed back his hat, then rubbed his temple. Head ached somethin' awful. Could be the change in weather, Ennis thought, reaching for his coffee cup. He closed his eyes. Some kinda life. Coffee on the railing, best drink some to get ridda this caffeine withdrawal. Ennis gulped, draining the brew down. Coffee burned. He frowned lookin' into the empty mug, then up again, closin' his eyes against the morning sun. More'n likely this withdrawl's name is Twist.
He opened his eyes to get a good look at the day. Truck splattered from front to end. Still, morning clear, not a cloud. Looking into that blue, Ennis squinted, wondering what to do. Might as well not even gone to bed last night. Awake, twistin' around, thinkin'.
Yesterday he was given another chance. Yesterday she told him Jack was alive.
He rustled through every corner of his mind, desperate to know: Where Jack was now? Ennis bitterly recalled the words they'd had that last day together. He'd regretted them everyday since. His guts hurt thinkin' how Jack didn't even ask for Ennis' help. Jack broken and beaten in some god forsaken hospital in de Nuevo Laredo. It was all Ennis could do not to drive to Childress and beat that son-of-a-bitch LD 'til he cried for his mama. Only thing that stopped him was knowin' most of the pain Jack was in, Ennis'd inflicted with his own word--that and Lureen said she'd handle LD.
From the sound of her, Lureen was one women that'd put fear into the devil himself. If he was in LD's shoes he'd be shakin'.
That Lureen was one smart women. Had spirit. Knew a hell of a lot more than she let on. Good woman too. Didn't have to say a damn thing to Ennis.
Got so mad after Lureen called, Ennis threw the phone against the wall. Then realized what he'd done. Had to go into town to do all his callin'. Ennis pushed almost a week's check of quarters into that pay phone next to market. Callin' hospitals. Talkin' to people who didn't want to talk to him. Thought he'd call every hospital south of and near to the border before he finally found where Jack'd been. Ennis hadn't talked so much in his life. First few calls didn't get him no where no how. Then he hit pay dirt, but everyone was tight lipped. Called the same place three more times with them refusin' to give him information since he weren't family. Then he got smart, said fuck the main desk. Finally took to lying and said he was Jack's brother. Had to go home for more change--raided the old saltine tin.
Called and asked for floors and wards. At last he found someone at a nurses' station. Wrenched Ennis' heart to hear. Nurse Callie was her name--she talked to Ennis only because she remembered Jack callin' for an Ennis when they first brought him in and late at night between morphine. The nurse remembered alright. Told Ennis the Sisters of Mercy might know where Jack was now.
He almost changed his mind about drivin' to Childress and beatin' that son-of-a-bitch LD. But he was broke as shit--cleaned out from callin' round except for a few thin dimes he needed to be makin' one last call.
Musta been Jack's son that answered and got his mom. Ennis wondered if Bobbie knew that his father was alive. 'For Ennis could think'a much else, Lureen came to the phone. Didn't take long for him to tell he all he found out. She listened quietly.
"So what you plannin' on doin'?" she finally asked.
Ennis hadn't thought through completely on what he'd do for sure when he did find Jack.
"Found his post cards from ya," she said. "Kept 'm in an old saddle bag a his, tied up all neat. You meant the world ta Jack. Don't know what happened that last time you met, but he wasn't the same after. Took to drinkin' and stayin' out. Sad all the time. Don't know why he's stayin' gone. Must have some reason to be playin' dead. Think you might know why."
Ennis didn't have no answer to that. Lureen said bye and Ennis decided he needed a drink. Somethin' strong. Thought of turning in beer bottles, but thought he save'm 'til tomorrow. He had a better way to spend his money--like findin' out who these Sisters of Mercy were and makin' up to Jack for all the hurt he'd caused.
------------------
Soon as Ennis found out that the Sisters of Mercy had no phone-- he quit. Collected his pay, sold his horses, packed what few clothes he had. Didn't expect to get the deposit back on the trailer, leaving with out warning the way he was. Surprised to get some cash for that. Didn't mind leavin'--only sad partin' was the girls and his horses.
Ennis parked next to the same phone booth. Called Alma. She weren't too happy to hear from him.
"What you want me to tell'm Ennis?" she'd asked.
"Tell my girls I have to leave for a bit-- look up a friend'a mine." Her silence had cut clean through him.
"You there Alma?"
"Yes. When'll I tell them you'll be comin' back?"
"I'll call as soon as I'm settled an' let'm know."
Alma grunted, "Fine."
Alma sure was sore. Didn't like leavin' his girls, 'specially so close after the weddin'.
Ennis got in his truck and drove off. Maybe the Sister of Mercy didn't have a phone, but they did have an address.
-------------------------------------
Chapter 3/?
Link to chapter 1 Link to chapter 2
"A post card?"
"Sí."
"There is no return address, Señor Twist."
"Could you read it?"
"Sí, only three words: 'coming for you.' It seems, Señor Twist, someone has found you."
-----------------------
Ennis swallowed the last bit of cold coffee. Drivin' on and on made him think and made him crazy. And worry--worry how bad they'd hurt Jack. Worry what he'd say to Jack. Worry what Jack'd say to him. Worry that Jack'd even want to see him. "Christ almighty," Ennis thought, "what if he hates me?" Pained Ennis, but he decided that didn't matter. "Spend as long as it takes, whole life if I have to, doin' right by Jack. He'll forgive me someday--has to."
Ennis frowned. For a man not tryin' not to think, he sure was spendin' a powerful lot of time thinkin'.
Ennis hated to stop, but needed to piss. Dam coffee. Gotta have it to stay awake to drive, but he had a strong thirst to get to the boarder. Held out for as long as he could. Knee jumpin' double time. Pulled off I-35 following the old red Texaco star, feeling the clutch. He pushed his hat back after putting the truck in neutral. So close. The rusty hinges scraped as he opened the door, telling the attendant to "fill er up." Near empty, won't do runnin' out trying to find the Sisters.
Ennis stretched, eyeing his surrounding. Station brought back good 'n bad for Ennis. Only vacation his family ever took they stopped at a Texaco. The familiar pumps and design brought back a damn miserable time. His pa walloped Ennis good 'side the head at the station--just 'cause he was thirsty. Had to hear his pa piss and moan for over an hour about his "ungrateful brats."
Ennis noticed a young mother with her baby, standing next to the corner of the Texaco. A few others, stood at the bus stop, waiting. Odd place for a stop-- then again, weren't safe near the interstate. She smiled shyly and nodded to him. Ennis could hear her singin' as she rocked the pink swaddled child to and fro. Brown hair, plain paisley house dress with flats. Reminded him of Alma years ago.
Ennis turned and went into the station. Manager gave him a nod and the key when Ennis asked where the bathroom was. Stomach was rumblin' awful, as he hurried 'round the back. He was surprised to find the place fuckin' clean. Finished 'n washed up. Splashed cold water on his face, almost didn't recognize the man starin' back at him. Grey hairs creeping in, mouth creased, circles under his eyes. Grabbed the keys and locked the door back up and went back around the building. The mother was still waitin' on the bus.
Ennis went inside. Picked up some smokes. Been tryin' to quit but this wasn't the day. Stood waitin' to pay when he saw the postcards. Fuckin' palm trees on 'em looked more like Florida than Texas. He picked up a card, turned it over in his hands. Hoped he wouldn't need another one, but Ennis bought the card anyway along with a better map. When he walked out, the sun was rising, spilling color off the roadside. The Greyhound was pulling away, and Ennis could see the mother in the back with her babe. Damn, he missed his girls somethin' awful already. He ripped the cigarette pack them open with his teeth then snapped the pack against his wrist, pulling one out with his tired lips. Squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as his flicked the match and took a deep drag. Ennis opened his eyes. This was the first real look Ennis had of Loredo. Looked exactly like the postcard, palms lining the highway.
He took a last look at the station. He'd had read in the paper a while back that fella who designed the Texaco stations used some kind of geometry based on the five pointed star and the Greek Parthenon or some horse shit like that. Never was much for mathematics, but readin' bits of nonsense reminded him of Jack. Spend hours readin' and thinkin' of things he had to remember to talk with Jack as they sat under the stars.
Ennis flicked ashes out the window. Not much farther, and he'd have some answers.
------------------------
Jack had nothing of Ennis. Came with nothing. Nothing until now.
The card even smelled like Ennis--sweet saddle soap and sweat. He spent the day in bed, head on the pillow, card pressed to his cheek, remembering. Hard part was Jack kept goin' over all them good times in his head, playing and riding and making love. That's what it was--not fucking--at least that's what it was to Jack. Ennis with his soft moans and hard thrusts. Ennis and his Brokeback eyes. Jack'd never forget the way them eyes 'd sparkle like morning dew when first lighted on Jack climbing out of his of beat up truck, and how his eyes 'd turn to mist on the mountain when he watched Jack climb in the truck cab to leave.
He wanted to see that look again. He knew Ennis would be here soon. Jack was torn about what to do. He knew Ennis would see Jack's heart in his eyes blind or not. Hell, what if Ennis didn't know he was blind? Jack could wear his sunglasses--tell him to go away. Jack knew he really didn't want Ennis to go away, but he couldn't cotton to a life of being some invalid Ennis needed takin' care of either. No sappy ever after ending like in An Affair to Remember for two queers. No sweet life, not now. That passed by long ago.
But there'd be no pretending when Ennis came-- 'sides, the Sisters would tell Ennis most likely.
To make Ennis leave, had to be real, or Ennis'd see through it. Jack blamed Ennis partly for what happened, but most of him loved Ennis, wanted him, ached for him. It would be easy to let Ennis take Jack in his arms and hold him. If that happened, Jack didn't think he was strong enough to let go. He had to reach down into the part of him that hated Ennis--turned his back on him and let him go.
That would be the only way to get Ennis to leave.
---------------------
Sister Sarita watched the man get out of his pickup. He was much like she imagined him. Lean, hungry with a haunted look in his eyes. Hat in hand, he studied the ground as he walked up the old church steps. Since the day LD Newsome came with the "donation" in hand, she'd wondered if someone would come looking for Jack Twist. From that first day, she'd had serious misgivings hiding him even though it was also what Señor Twist said he wanted.
"It's unhealthy," she'd told Señor Twist. "You must face life, not turn your face from it." The Sister shook her head, remembering. Ah, never mind what she thought-- she, along with the other sisters, were told to keep Señor Twist secret. For the greater good, they were told. It's God's will if they find him. Sister Sarita was getting on in years and had opinions she'd kept to herself. This was one opinion she'd wished she hadn't. She knew in her heart this was wrong, and she wasn't the only one at the Sisters' of Mercy who thought that: The day the postcard came, Sister Regina and Dorotea secreted it away. They'd come to Sister Sarita admitting what they'd done. When Sister Sarita read the simple message on the back, she acted, doing what she believed best for Jack Twist, even if he did not want what was best for himself.
The day the sister handed Señor Twist the postcard, he'd turned it over and over in his hands, fingers tracing with reverence where the pen branded it. Watching eyes that could not see, Sister Sarita knew Twist needed saving. God could help him, but first he must reach out and let himself seek the help of those who cared. Turning his back to them, she knew it was not rejection. No, he didn't want to have them see him cry.
The sister knew they had done right.
She walked up to greet the man who wrote the postcard.
"Come inside Señor, we have much to discuss."
------------------------------
Chapter 4
"Señor, please sit."
"Thank ya Sister," Ennis said quietly, settin' his hat in the chair next to him.
"I believe you have come searching for someone?"
Any other time, Ennis would have been awed by the old Spanish mission with its colorful folk art retablos and reached inside for its allegorical meaning--instead, he reached inside his heart for something dear.
"You got that right," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Lookin' for a good friend a mine--name of Jack Twist. He was hurt bad. Hospital told me he might be staying here."
"He is not here--"
Look of disbelief, then disappointment glazed his eyes. She was a nun, after all, she would tell him the truth.
"Señor?"
"Name is Del Mar, Ennis Del Mar." He took a deep breath.
She had the kinda eyes that made him want to look away--grey eyes with cold fire inside--the kinda eyes that went lookin' inside you for secrets. Made her a puzzle 'cause her clear, kind, soft voice put Ennis at ease. Not a quiet voice, like his, but plain--a voice with no disguises.
Ennis bent his head. She knew who Jack was. Ennis sat, sayin' nothing, letting silence work for him. Her gaze washed over him.
"He is not here, Señor Del Mar, but he is not far." He forced his eyes back into hers.
"Kin you take me to him?"
"Se," she said.
Silence again.
"How is he?" The chair creaked beneath him as Ennis shifted.
"The hospital did not tell you?"
Here it comes, Ennis thought. Please oh, please no.
Ennis shook his head slowly. Part of Ennis wanted to run out the door--to not know.
"Your friend, I am sorry, but the injuries left him blind."
"Blind?"
Ennis sat dumb. Heart pounding, chest heaving. His left leg jumped nervously. Pushing back the tears in his own eyes, he thought of those wide blue eyes, the eyes that slipped inside his soul. Ennis noticed his hands shaking and dug them into his thighs, hanging on tight.
He shivered as he devoured the vivid retablos behind her--anything to distract him from the horror he felt. He'd seen one like this in a fancy art book at the Riverton Library one day when he was pokin' around, lookin' for quiet. La Mano Ponderosa or the Powerful Hand, the work was called. He remembered it 'cause it was powerful. Seeing one like it now, gripped him. His eyes were drawn to the stigmata in the center. Ennis wondered what drove the artist create such a work--sufferin', sinnin' or searchin' for salvation?
"Your friend is very depressed. He refuses help. We take food, clothing, do what we can, but he will not take comfort."
At first Ennis couldn't trust himself to speak. The walls were so quiet, like death. Each breath seemed to echo. Ennis tore his eyes from the retablo. Fearin' his Jack's eyes would never again see such beauty, he asked the question: "Will he git it back?"
"Only God knows that. We live with what we are handed. Jack does not accept God's will. He does not want others to know. He believes he is a burden to the world. He is bitter, withdrawn. We have tried to help him, but he shrinks into himself more. Then the card came. You did send the postcard?"
"Yes," Ennis whispered.
"His face changed, warmed. He smiled--a smile that I had never seen. I knew then the one who sent it might be the one to reach him."
Ennis bit his lip thinking on Jack. Blind. His Jack. God damn it Jack, why ya go and get yourself in this condition?
"Kin you take me to him?" Ennis choked.
"Se, Señor Del Mar."
-----------------------------------
The rumble woke Jack. Just the sound of Del Mar's old truck had Jack shakin' and sweatin' like some addict, and Ennis weren't even in here yet. He grappled out of bed as he heard the familiar hinges on the truck door grid shut.
Jack staggered to the old crate he called a chair and sat down waiting. He had to make Ennis leave. The longer Ennis stayed, the more likely Jack knew he'd go all soft and let Ennis inside his heart. He had to remember all the pain--gag on the rejection and loneliness Ennis had put him through. Slap Ennis in the face with his bitterness. Make Ennis see festering hole he left in Jack's soul.
Jack empty gaze lay dead on the floor. God damn you Ennis, why didn't you take that sweet life with me when we had a chance?
They didn't even knock. Just walked in. Jack didn't look up.
"Get out," Jack ordered.
"No, Señor Twist, we will not leave you."
"I said get out!"
"Jack?" He heard Ennis' feet grind the dirt floor in front of him. As Ennis bowed between his legs, Jack felt his breath hot on his neck, and Jack tried hard to resist the arms that wrapped around him, hard and comforting.
He pushed Ennis backwards. A heavy thump and crash, glass breaking in the room.
"Jack?" Ennis' voice came back, strangled.
"Why you here?" Jack spat out. "Nothin' here for you no more. That's been dead long ago. Leave me."
Glass crunched. Ennis was standin' back up, comin' toward Jack again.
"No," Jack repeated under his breath, "ain't nothing for you here no more."
"That is the most pansy ass goodbye I ever heard, Twist. Thought you was some fancy salesman? Couldn't convince a drowning man to buy a life preserver with them words."
"I hate you, Ennis." Jack's eyes burned. "Git outta here. Don't want yer pity. Go!"
"I ain't goin' no where without ya, better get that in your thick head now."
"Why you pretendin' ya care? You don't-- never did care, not enough. Never did. Drive off that last time, tore my heart out. Ain't no heart left inside me Ennis, got that? I don't feel a thing."
"First ya hate me then ya don't feel a thing," Ennis said. "If ya don't feel nothin', then why you cryin'?"
"Sorry for myself, is all. Now git outta here. Leave me with some kind of pride, Del Mar."
"Don't matter what ya do or say, I ain't leavin' you here in this shit hole another second. You can stand up and walk out like a man, or I can carry ya kickin' and screamin' like a babe-- don't matter ta me none."
"Fuck you Ennis."
"Do I hafta remind ya the Sister's standing here?"
"Fuck her too."
"Señor Twist," she laughed, "the offer is kind, but I've taken a vow of celibacy."
Jack heard Ennis choke back a laugh. "You think I'm fuckin' funny?" Jack heard himself say.
"So what's it gonna be, Twist?"
Jack sat still. No way Ennis was carryin' him outta here. Let him try. He may be blind, but he could still fight.
"Ya might want to leave, Sister," he heard Ennis say. "This might get messy."
The door shut to the hut at the same moment Ennis grabbed him. They both rolled in the dirt, dust flyin'. Jack punched at Ennis, first landin' solid on his jaw, next grazin' the side of his face. Jack hesitated, fist was sticky and smelled of his own blood and Ennis'. His third punch went wild, givin' Ennis the opportunity to flip Jack over, sit on top of him, holdin', Jack's arms above his head.
Jack hated himself for sobbin' into the dirt.
"Why you gotta be here? What you think you're goin' to do? Take me into Brokeback and hide forever? I ain't got nothin'. No eyes, no family, no heart. All gone Ennis. Leave me be. Just go, please Ennis, just let me go."
"Can't do that friend. Went through a mess o' what ifs when I thought you was dead. Now that I got a chance, ain't gonna wonder what if ever again. Gonna do right by you Jack Twist even if you think I'm doin' you wrong right now."
----------------------------
Chapter 5
Ennis was glad Jack decided to walk to his truck instead of carryin' him. His back still ached somethin' fierce from wrestlin' Jack to floor. Gittin' too old for that horse shit. Eye hurts too. Gonna git real shinner. Blind 'er not, Jack still packs a powerful punch.
The Sister raised her eyebrow as they both got in the cab. Ennis knew they were a sorry sight. Jack's face streaked with blood and sweat. Ennis not far behind. She sat between them. Both stiff and button lipped. Ennis felt sorry for Sister Sarita, havin' to put up with their ornery selves. Not easy bein' between two jack asses.
The ruts in the road bumped them along in the cab. Ennis was used to this. Most likely Sister Sarita was too by the way she was shifting with each bump that jarred her. She brushed off her lap--dirt swirled in coatin' everything. Ennis noticed that he he couldn't tell his dash board was black anymore--was this red clay color instead.
Ennis watched Jack from the corner of his eye. Hurt in the pit of his stomach seein' Jack this way. Filthy. Thin. Could feel every rib when they were wrestlin' on that floor. Weren't as strong as he was before either. Remembered them times on Brokeback, Jack always could pin Ennis good when Jack had the itch too. Didn't put up much of a fight a bit ago--like the spirit was whisked out'ta him. Light gone out'ta his eyes, too. Had the look of one of them old bulls before they go off to slaughter.
Only thing Ennis knew was to rile Jack some. Get some of the light and fight back. Needed coaxin'.
"God damn," Ennis blushed, looked over at the sister, "pardon my language, ma'am, but Jack, yeh need ta roll down yer window--yeh smell like a rangy dead coyote."
"Sor-ry," Jack said, crankin' down his window then spittin' out it. Ennis smiled slow. Jack was takin' the bait.
"I didn't have any of them fancy ac-commodations like plumbin' if yeh didn't happen to notice," Jack continued.
"Don't mean yeh can't be clean," Ennis mumbled. "Fellar can still be clean. Yeh need a hosin' down."
Ennis waited for Jack to make some other smart ass remark. Disappointed him when none came. Instead Jack frowned and stared ahead, lip twitching. Way he was starin' made Ennis forget for a moment that Jack couldn't see. Road got all fuzzy from his own eyes cloudin', thinkin' on his Jack feelin' all alone. Not gonna let him feel like this no more. My fault he's like this. Should'a not let him drive away that day on Brokeback. Should'a not said what I said. Should'a takin' him in my arms and gave him what he needed. Kept him safe on the mountain.
Ennis shook his head. Didn't want to reach up and wipe his own eyes in front of the Sister.
Ennis braked as he took a sharp bend in the road. Ennis saw it too late. Swore as he slammed on the brakes and heard the sickenin' thump.
Ennis pulled the old truck off to the side of the dirt road. and put the truck in neutral, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel while the still engine ran.
No one spoke.
No Jack Twist tellin' him he should'a been more careful.
No Sister scoldin' him.
Instead the Sister was holdin' her chest like she's gonna has a fuckin' heart attack, and Jack stared straight ahead.
"Ya'all ok?" Ennis asked.
The Sister nodded. "Startled me, but I am not hurt."
Ennis looked over at Jack, who nodded.
Dam, Ennis cursed himself, need to concentrate on the road. Could'a killed us all. Poor dog. Better git out an' see.
He set his jaw tight and climbed out.
------------------------------------
"What'd he hit?" Jack asked as he heard Ennis got out of the truck.
"A dog. Stood right in the road and never moved. He's checking the poor creature now."
Jack sat quiet, waiting. This hadn't gone at all like he'd planned. Ennis had gotten his way, as normal. Made him come along. Jack would have made him carry him, but being close in his arms did more to him than he wanted Ennis to know. Just smelling him again and feeling his hard strength was enough to make Jack yearn somethin' fierce. All those dreams where they were together pounded over him like a hard rain. He wanted Ennis. Always would. Just didn't see a future for them anymore.
Not now. Didn't see a future 'cause he couldn't see a thing. Like this moment, waitin' on Ennis outside of the truck somewhere, checkin' on a dog while he sat in the dark. Jack strained to hear what was happenin'. Heard the dog's high, whimperin'. Heard Ennis' low, soothin' tones.
Heard gravel crunch as Ennis came up to Jack's door, dog whinin' with every step.
"Nothin' broke I don't think," Ennis said slow and quiet as he opened Jack's door, "but might be hurt inside. Some stray, not too old by the look of her teeth. Can't leave her at the side of the road ta die. Here, you hold her, Rodeo. Calm her down."
Jack felt a tug on his sleeve before the dog lay heavy in his lap. He felt his cheeks heat up from hearin' Ennis call him Rodeo. Never thought he'd hear him say that ta him again.
"Must be a stray," the Sister added.
Jack soothed the dog in his arms. She struggled against him. The dog weren't no small one, but didn't have much fight in her. Long hair, soft, but clotted. Jack stroked behind her ears while the dog trembled and burrowed her head into Jack's chest. Ennis shut the door, and the dog jumped and whimpered, tryin' to scramble from his lap. Jack soothed her with tender, slow strokes, and she burrowed into him in kind.
Jack heard Ennis boots walk heavy around the truck and the springs squeak at he sat down in the seat. The truck lurched forward into first gear then again into second.
"I believe you are correct Señor Del Mar. She can't be very old," the Sister said. She reached to comfort the dog, but the dog flinched from her hand. "Neglected. Probably abused. The world should not treat the creatures of God with ambivalence or cruelty."
"Agree with ya there Miss Sarita. Way it was standin' in the road, looked like she wanted to die," Ennis said.
Jack didn't blame her. He felt like doin' the same most days.
"Sh-h, be still now girl," Jack whispered, holdin' her steady. Jack's one hand scratched under her chin while the other secured her. Could feel all her ribs like rails. Back bone stuck out.
Poor starved, homeless thing, was all Jack could think. Scared and shakin'.
Jack figured it was some kind of retriever mix by the size, hair, shape of her head and ears. Imagined she had big ol' sad brown eyes. Could feel her brows twitching the way retrievers do as she looked around. She nuzzled his hand, and Jack stroked her head.
Starvin' for more than food, he thought.
--------------------------------
Sister Sarita watched Señor Twist closely. Maybe Señor Del Mar didn't know what he'd done when he put that hurt gold dog in Jack Twist's lap, but Sister Sarita knew. She had always believed God's creatures nurtured the soul. She nodded to herself as she watched the lab's brown eyes follow Señor Twist's face with gratitude and trust. The dog licked his hand slow and tender then nudged his chest with her nose. Dog wasn't the only one in this truck who needed love. Creatures see what humans often cannot. She saw the open wound in blind man's heart--saw that she could fill that wound and fill her own. The look in each of their eyes gave away their need.
She'd recalled her first meeting with Señor Twist in the hospital. Face swollen and ghastly. Body broken and bruised. But his eyes--they told all. Though unseeing, his heart and soul were rendered in one look, one blink.
Eyes truly are the doorway to the soul--she recalled thinking the first time she met him--here is a soul laid to waste.
Many hours, days and weeks she remembered sitting by his bed, holding his hand. Hearing words shouted in agony. Hearing words whispered in pain. She was not sure who the Ennis was who he called for. She was not sure he was the one who would come--the one in the postcard. But he was, and he was here now.
The hovel in Los dos Laredos became Señor jack's curtain from the world that Señor Del Mar flung open. Now the world pushed in. Sister Sarita knew Señor Del Mar had hid behind his own curtain and found a way to step out.
She did not judge them. She would not. The Sister knew of many sins, she had seen them all as she walked as one of The Sisters of Mercy through the poverty ridden fringes of Rio Bravo del Norte. She believed in mercy, and mercy never judges.
His voice told her much about this man-- so different from Señor Jack yet so much the same.
She watched in silence as they rode back to the Mission. As the streets filled with traffic and became highway she smelled the dry city air of Loredo. The Mission was not far, and she remained silent.
Señor Del Mar found his way and asked for no directions. She saw a man who added his surroundings to the pack that he carried. A heavy load, yet from this day on, he would carry a far heavier load.
Even if he hadn't physically carried Señor Jack to the truck, from this moment Señor Del Mar would have to support him spiritually.