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Fuck-up Number Two as told to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
icewolf88
Now, on to the second time my life was changed. It was around June of 1977. I'd had enough of L.D. Newsome to last more than five lifetimes, so I decided that I needed a vacation. Hell, I was entitled to one. Just as I was going to take it, I learned that my daddy had a heart attack. I may have hated the bastard, but he was still my daddy so, after telling Lureen where I was going, I headed out for Wyoming and the family ranch in Lightning Flat. Wasn't the kind of vacation I wanted, but it was time away from L.D. none the less.
Too tired to drive all the way, I stopped for the night in a little town called Riverton to get some sleep. I called momma and told her where I was and that I’d be there the next day. I got a room at the Motel Siesta. I dropped my bags and looked around. The place sure had seen better days. No TV, lamp bulbs were burned out. Nothing to do, so I decided to walk to the nearest bar, and have a drink. I was missing my boy but didn’t seem to be missing my wife much at all. Never saw much of each other lately. Can't miss what you never even have. Well, anyway, I walked over to a bar called The Ace In The Hole, came in and sat down at the bar and ordered a longneck beer. Taking a sip, I looked around. It was a nice place as far as small town bars went. Booths along one wall that seen too many years and tables with mismatched chairs scattered here and there. A jukebox in one corner played "Ring of Fire" while men drank around a couple of pool tables, a few with cues in their hands. Even a space for dancing that took me back to the time I met Lureen. A lot different place than this though.
Being only a Thursday night, the place wasn't crowded. Only one booth was being used by a young couple who looked to be out on a date. There were a couple of fellas like me bellied up to the bar sipping their beers and not paying anyone else any mind. A few at the pool tables, like I said before. And there was one man sitting at the other end of the bar who drew my attention. Not that he was calling attention to himself, in fact, the opposite was true. He was trying so hard to not call attention to himself that he was drawing my eye like light to a black hole. I guess I must have been daydreaming for a bit, because next thing I knew he was staring me down.
We locked eyes. Even in the darkness of the bar, I could see his brown eyes had just a hint of gold in them. Finally, my senses got the better of me; I dropped my gaze back down on my beer. I peeled the label. There was just something about him that was scaring the living shit out of me. I wanted to look back up so bad and see if he was still there. I wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms. To feel his lips pressed against mine. I shook my head. I was also wondering where these thoughts were coming from. I’d never had thoughts like these in my entire life. I sure as hell didn't think I was gay. I mean, I’d never fantasized about other men before, so what made this guy so special? I decided to just finish my beer and head back to the motel and get some sleep.
Rising from the bar, I looked in his direction once more to see that he was already gone. I shrugged my shoulders, turned, and walked out the door.
Stepping out into the dark, I stood there for a bit just breathing in the clear Wyoming air-- something I’d missed all these years living down in Texas. I turned toward the motel and began the short, lonely walk back. Passing under a street lamp, a voice startled me, coming from nowhere outta the dark.
"Ya should be careful where ya put yer eyes at, Mister. Someone's liable to take offence at it."
I turned to the guy from the bar, leaning up against what I assumed was his truck with a cigarette dangling from his lips. At that particular moment, I wasn't sure whether to run or stand and fight.
"Ain’t gonna hurt ya," he said. "Just thought I’d give ya some friendly advice is all." The man stepped forward, careful like I was a skittish horse. I got to admit that the sound of his voice soothed me, sending a tingle flying through my body the likes of which I’ve never felt before in my life. I guess edI didn't need to get back to my hotel right away.
"Didn’t mean anything by it," I said. "Never happened to me before. I mean, I don’t go around starin' at men on a regular basis. How 'bout I buy ya a beer as my way of apologizin'?"
"Well, now, how ya know I ain’t just gonna beat yer ass for lookin' at me like ya was?"
"Cause if ya was, ya woulda done it by now. And I take ya as a man of yer word since ya already told me ya wasn’t gonna do it."
"Well, in that case, a beer sounds right nice, but not back in there."
"Ok, but if not there then where?"
"Follow me, and I’ll take ya to another one on the other side of town."
"Ok, my truck's over at the motel if’n ya wanna wait for a bit while I go get it," I said, turning back towards the motel.
"No need for that," he said. "Hop in, and I’ll give ya a ride." Deciding that it wasn’t a bad idea, I walked around the truck and climbed in the passenger side.
Never could stand quiet. I couldn’t help but keep looking at him from the corner of my eye, trying to figure him out. Finally, I got tired of waiting for him to speak and I introduced myself.
"Name’s Jack Twist," I said, reaching my hand out to shake his.
"Ennis," he said, returning the shake with a firm grip.
"Yer folks just stop at Ennis?" I asked with a grin.
He just gave me a look that all but screamed Smartass. "Del Mar."
"Well, nice to know ya, Ennis Del Mar," I said. He just grunted, but a small smile played across his lips.
Finally, we pulled into the parking lot of the other bar. A smile crossed my face. The neon sign blinked ‘Brokeback Bar and Grill.’
"Ever been there?" I asked him as we get out and head inside.
"Where? Brokeback Mountain? Nope. Never been. You?"
"Yeah. Was there back in ‘62. Worked for an old bastard by the name of Aguirre runnin' sheep. Swore I’d never work for him ever again. Gotta tell ya, though, that I never saw a prettier sight in my life. Wonder who named this place Brokeback."
"Probably him," Ennis said, pointing to the bartender. There stood the son of a bitch Aguirre.
Walking inside, we found us a table. I made sure it was as far away from the bar as possible. Nice dark corner where he could keep his sorry self away. I ordered a round on me. We talked for most of the night. Well, I did most of the talking, but Ennis did manage to throw a few words in here and there. I told him about my momma and daddy, Lureen and Bobby and about that piece of shit father-in-law of mine. Not sure what it was about Ennis, but I found myself practically pouring out my life story to this virtual stranger. He told me bout his ex-wife and his two daughters, about his jobs on different ranches. We talked and drank so much that time just flew until suddenly we heard, "last call." Not wanting the evening to end, I proposed we stop at the liquor store to grab some more beer and take it to my room at the motel. He stopped and looked at me for a moment, eyes squinting.
The next words out of his mouth took me completely by surprise.
"Ya know I ain’t queer," he said quietly so his voice wouldn't carry.
I gave him a strange look and replied with heat in my voice, "Well, neither am I! And I ain’t tryin' to pick ya up or nothin' either. If ya don’t wanna go back to my room then don’t bother. I’ll find my own way back there."
I stood up feeling a little unsteady on my feet, but anger fueled my desire to walk out of there on my own. How dare this total stranger accuse me of trying to pick him up?! As if I would even wanna know what it would feel like to kiss those lips or feel those arms wrapped around me?! I did a double take, wondering where these thoughts were coming from. I’d never had thoughts like these before. And the hurt look that suddenly came into his eyes about tore my heart in two. Doing my best to ignore that pitiful gaze, I stumbled for the door. I’d only made it a couple of feet when I suddenly felt a firm hand on my arm. I tried to shake it off, but his grip was tight. He pulled my arm over his shoulder for support, then wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me up.
"What the hell ya think yer doin?" I asked him, my words slurred.
"Aguirre!" he yelled over his shoulder. "Give me a case ta go!"
He fished some bills out of his pocket in exchange for the beer.
"Bud, yer too drunk to be walkin' on yer own," he said. "I’m just gonna help ya out to the truck and take ya back to yer motel is all."
"I don’t need yer help, Ennis Del Mar. I can make it back on my own," I said, trying to pull away from him. I damn near fell on my ass for that stunt, but he grabbed me again just in time.
"Sure ya are, Jack Fuckin Twist," he said laughing. He helped me into the passenger side of his truck. It was at that moment that I wondered if he was sober enough to drive as he climbed behind the wheel.
icewolf88Now, on to the second time my life was changed. It was around June of 1977. I'd had enough of L.D. Newsome to last more than five lifetimes, so I decided that I needed a vacation. Hell, I was entitled to one. Just as I was going to take it, I learned that my daddy had a heart attack. I may have hated the bastard, but he was still my daddy so, after telling Lureen where I was going, I headed out for Wyoming and the family ranch in Lightning Flat. Wasn't the kind of vacation I wanted, but it was time away from L.D. none the less.
Too tired to drive all the way, I stopped for the night in a little town called Riverton to get some sleep. I called momma and told her where I was and that I’d be there the next day. I got a room at the Motel Siesta. I dropped my bags and looked around. The place sure had seen better days. No TV, lamp bulbs were burned out. Nothing to do, so I decided to walk to the nearest bar, and have a drink. I was missing my boy but didn’t seem to be missing my wife much at all. Never saw much of each other lately. Can't miss what you never even have. Well, anyway, I walked over to a bar called The Ace In The Hole, came in and sat down at the bar and ordered a longneck beer. Taking a sip, I looked around. It was a nice place as far as small town bars went. Booths along one wall that seen too many years and tables with mismatched chairs scattered here and there. A jukebox in one corner played "Ring of Fire" while men drank around a couple of pool tables, a few with cues in their hands. Even a space for dancing that took me back to the time I met Lureen. A lot different place than this though.
Being only a Thursday night, the place wasn't crowded. Only one booth was being used by a young couple who looked to be out on a date. There were a couple of fellas like me bellied up to the bar sipping their beers and not paying anyone else any mind. A few at the pool tables, like I said before. And there was one man sitting at the other end of the bar who drew my attention. Not that he was calling attention to himself, in fact, the opposite was true. He was trying so hard to not call attention to himself that he was drawing my eye like light to a black hole. I guess I must have been daydreaming for a bit, because next thing I knew he was staring me down.
We locked eyes. Even in the darkness of the bar, I could see his brown eyes had just a hint of gold in them. Finally, my senses got the better of me; I dropped my gaze back down on my beer. I peeled the label. There was just something about him that was scaring the living shit out of me. I wanted to look back up so bad and see if he was still there. I wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms. To feel his lips pressed against mine. I shook my head. I was also wondering where these thoughts were coming from. I’d never had thoughts like these in my entire life. I sure as hell didn't think I was gay. I mean, I’d never fantasized about other men before, so what made this guy so special? I decided to just finish my beer and head back to the motel and get some sleep.
Rising from the bar, I looked in his direction once more to see that he was already gone. I shrugged my shoulders, turned, and walked out the door.
Stepping out into the dark, I stood there for a bit just breathing in the clear Wyoming air-- something I’d missed all these years living down in Texas. I turned toward the motel and began the short, lonely walk back. Passing under a street lamp, a voice startled me, coming from nowhere outta the dark.
"Ya should be careful where ya put yer eyes at, Mister. Someone's liable to take offence at it."
I turned to the guy from the bar, leaning up against what I assumed was his truck with a cigarette dangling from his lips. At that particular moment, I wasn't sure whether to run or stand and fight.
"Ain’t gonna hurt ya," he said. "Just thought I’d give ya some friendly advice is all." The man stepped forward, careful like I was a skittish horse. I got to admit that the sound of his voice soothed me, sending a tingle flying through my body the likes of which I’ve never felt before in my life. I guess edI didn't need to get back to my hotel right away.
"Didn’t mean anything by it," I said. "Never happened to me before. I mean, I don’t go around starin' at men on a regular basis. How 'bout I buy ya a beer as my way of apologizin'?"
"Well, now, how ya know I ain’t just gonna beat yer ass for lookin' at me like ya was?"
"Cause if ya was, ya woulda done it by now. And I take ya as a man of yer word since ya already told me ya wasn’t gonna do it."
"Well, in that case, a beer sounds right nice, but not back in there."
"Ok, but if not there then where?"
"Follow me, and I’ll take ya to another one on the other side of town."
"Ok, my truck's over at the motel if’n ya wanna wait for a bit while I go get it," I said, turning back towards the motel.
"No need for that," he said. "Hop in, and I’ll give ya a ride." Deciding that it wasn’t a bad idea, I walked around the truck and climbed in the passenger side.
Never could stand quiet. I couldn’t help but keep looking at him from the corner of my eye, trying to figure him out. Finally, I got tired of waiting for him to speak and I introduced myself.
"Name’s Jack Twist," I said, reaching my hand out to shake his.
"Ennis," he said, returning the shake with a firm grip.
"Yer folks just stop at Ennis?" I asked with a grin.
He just gave me a look that all but screamed Smartass. "Del Mar."
"Well, nice to know ya, Ennis Del Mar," I said. He just grunted, but a small smile played across his lips.
Finally, we pulled into the parking lot of the other bar. A smile crossed my face. The neon sign blinked ‘Brokeback Bar and Grill.’
"Ever been there?" I asked him as we get out and head inside.
"Where? Brokeback Mountain? Nope. Never been. You?"
"Yeah. Was there back in ‘62. Worked for an old bastard by the name of Aguirre runnin' sheep. Swore I’d never work for him ever again. Gotta tell ya, though, that I never saw a prettier sight in my life. Wonder who named this place Brokeback."
"Probably him," Ennis said, pointing to the bartender. There stood the son of a bitch Aguirre.
Walking inside, we found us a table. I made sure it was as far away from the bar as possible. Nice dark corner where he could keep his sorry self away. I ordered a round on me. We talked for most of the night. Well, I did most of the talking, but Ennis did manage to throw a few words in here and there. I told him about my momma and daddy, Lureen and Bobby and about that piece of shit father-in-law of mine. Not sure what it was about Ennis, but I found myself practically pouring out my life story to this virtual stranger. He told me bout his ex-wife and his two daughters, about his jobs on different ranches. We talked and drank so much that time just flew until suddenly we heard, "last call." Not wanting the evening to end, I proposed we stop at the liquor store to grab some more beer and take it to my room at the motel. He stopped and looked at me for a moment, eyes squinting.
The next words out of his mouth took me completely by surprise.
"Ya know I ain’t queer," he said quietly so his voice wouldn't carry.
I gave him a strange look and replied with heat in my voice, "Well, neither am I! And I ain’t tryin' to pick ya up or nothin' either. If ya don’t wanna go back to my room then don’t bother. I’ll find my own way back there."
I stood up feeling a little unsteady on my feet, but anger fueled my desire to walk out of there on my own. How dare this total stranger accuse me of trying to pick him up?! As if I would even wanna know what it would feel like to kiss those lips or feel those arms wrapped around me?! I did a double take, wondering where these thoughts were coming from. I’d never had thoughts like these before. And the hurt look that suddenly came into his eyes about tore my heart in two. Doing my best to ignore that pitiful gaze, I stumbled for the door. I’d only made it a couple of feet when I suddenly felt a firm hand on my arm. I tried to shake it off, but his grip was tight. He pulled my arm over his shoulder for support, then wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me up.
"What the hell ya think yer doin?" I asked him, my words slurred.
"Aguirre!" he yelled over his shoulder. "Give me a case ta go!"
He fished some bills out of his pocket in exchange for the beer.
"Bud, yer too drunk to be walkin' on yer own," he said. "I’m just gonna help ya out to the truck and take ya back to yer motel is all."
"I don’t need yer help, Ennis Del Mar. I can make it back on my own," I said, trying to pull away from him. I damn near fell on my ass for that stunt, but he grabbed me again just in time.
"Sure ya are, Jack Fuckin Twist," he said laughing. He helped me into the passenger side of his truck. It was at that moment that I wondered if he was sober enough to drive as he climbed behind the wheel.