Resurrection: Chapter Four

Resurrection
Pairing: Jack/Ennis AU
Rating: NC-17 for the story
Summary: This picks up right at the moment in the canon that Ennis receives that infamous post card informing him of Jack's death ... but this is not a Jack!Dead story. This idea is not completely original, but I believe that my interpretation of it is something fresh, uncliche-ed, and enjoyable. Please feel free to leave fair and honest feedback.
Disclaimer: Inspiration for this story and all characters belong to Annie Proulx.
Acknowledgements: A million thank-yous to my new beta, Judy. I don't know what I did without her before!

Chapter Four

Randall looked angry, like he always did when he woke up.  But the instant he saw who it was, the anger turned to surprise, and he pulled Jack into one of his rib-crushing bear hugs.

“Jack, shit,” he growled.

“Hey now,” Jack said, giving Randall a little push.

Randall pulled away and beckoned Jack into the house.  The door was closed and they moved into the living room.  Randall turned on the light.

“LaShawn is still away at her mother’s, right?”

“Yeah,” Randall said distractedly, “don’t worry about it.  Shit, Jack, never thought it’d be you at the door.  How you doing?  You look a hell of a lot better’n I was expecting.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been six weeks.”

“Still.”

Jack shrugged and looked at the wall.  It was painted the same shade of pink as the carpet in his and Lureen’s bedroom.

“So, uh, did you come over here to—”

“No, not that.  Thought I already told you, we ain’t going to do that anymore.”

Randall nodded.  “Yeah.  So—”

“I came here to talk.”

“Oh.”

“I know that’s never really been our thing, but … I’m going out of my fucking mind.”  Jack let out a breath as though he’d been holding it for weeks.

“Yeah, after what happened, I’ll bet—”

“It ain’t about that.  Well, maybe it is a little, but it ain’t the biggest thing on my mind right now.”  He leaned forward on the sofa and held his head in his hands.  “Shit.”

He’d been desperate to speak to someone over the past weeks.  But now that he could, he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.  Seemed like if he talked about it, it would become real.  On the other hand, if he said nothing, how would he keep his sanity?  “You know Ennis?” he finally said.

“’Course.  You’ve talked about him.”

“He’s dead.”

“Ah, hell,” Randall said.  “Jesus.  Tough break.”

Jack felt a heavy hand not so much pat his back, as drop down between his shoulder blades three times.  He shrugged it off and stood up.  He began to pace.  “I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do, Randall.”

Randall sat watching him, looking a bit like a man at a play who had been expecting to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but ended up at King Lear instead and was not sure what to make of it.  “Don’t expect there’s much you can do, is there?”

“Sometimes it feels like Childress and Lureen and L.D., they’re all just … strangling me.  Feels like if I don’t do something I’ll just lose it.”

“Yeah, well … that’s too bad.”

Jack was beginning to think that going to Randall to talk wasn’t exactly the smartest thing, but what were his other options?  Spend some quality time with L.D. and tell him that his marriage was a big joke and he couldn’t stand it anymore?  Sit Bobby down and tell him he was queer and was sick and tired of pretending he wasn’t?  Inform Lureen that he hated her father more than anyone else on earth and was counting the days until the bastard’s retirement, but wasn’t even sure if he could make it that long without losing his marbles?  Randall wasn’t exactly the best for giving advice, but at least Jack could be honest with him.

“Saw an ad in the paper for a job selling insurance.  One of those deals where you go door to door … think I’d be pretty good at it.”

This got a bit of a reaction out of Randall.  “You wanna quit Newsome’s?”

“Hate that fucking place and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, that fucking place pays you better than you deserve and has given you security for the past fifteen years.”

 “Lureen’s job is security enough to take care of the family if my job don’t work out.”

Randall shook his head.  “Don’t think I’ll ever understand you, Jack.  You got a great job, and you want to throw it away for some stupid door-to-door gig.  You got a beautiful wife for all the world to see, and you nearly throw it all away with that whole Ed Grey thing.”

“Randall, don’t you ever get sick of that whole family image?  Don’t you ever wish you weren’t married to LaShawn?”

“Hell, no.  Long as I’m married to her, people don’t ask questions and I can do whatever I want.”

“Well, I want to quit Newsome’s.”

Randall shrugged.  “Well, I ain’t gonna stop you.  I just think you’re being stupid.”

“Thanks, Randall, that’s real helpful.”

“If that’s what you think, why’d you come over here in the first place?”

“Just thought you might understand.”

“Yeah, well, what I don’t understand is what the death of your buddy in Wyoming has to do with your job and everything else.”

Jack sighed and sat back down next to Randall.  For the first time in his life, he voiced something he had always known: “Because what him and me had was the only thing that made all this shit bearable.  Lureen, my job … even you.”

Randall nodded like this made sense to him.  “Maybe you gotta think about all the good things you got: a beautiful wife, a son, a good job.  You got a good life and that Ennis wasn’t ever a part of it.”

Jack closed his eyes.  Randall didn’t understand after all.  He’d never had an Ennis, never had anyone he’d rather be with than LaShawn.  She gave Randall respectability, and that mattered to him.  But Jack had had enough of working his life around respectability.  Jack stood up.  “Well, sorry for waking you up.  Guess I’ll go on back home now.”

“You really ain’t interested in fucking?”

Jack looked at him for a moment, actually tried to make that desire rise.  Maybe a good meaningless fuck would help a little.  Maybe feeling Randall’s big hairy body on top of him was just the thing he needed.  But as soon as he thought of that, he thought of another lean yet strong form on top of him and inside him and all around him and the thought of being with Randall was nearly revolting.  He shook his head.  “No.  I’m gonna go.”

On the short trip back home, Jack thought about that job selling insurance.  The idea of spending his days on the road was appealing; the idea of trying to sell people shit he didn’t really believe in was not.  But he liked driving and he liked being outside and he definitely liked not having L.D. breathing down his neck at all times.

The next morning was a Wednesday.  Jack still had not returned to work, but was supposed to start up again a week from the coming Monday.  That would be plenty of time to arrange the new job and would leave him free to walk into L.D.’s office on the day he was supposed to start back up again and tell him to go fuck himself.  The prospect was mighty appealing.  It nearly made him smile.

He wasn’t very smiley when he walked into the kitchen to find Lureen sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee and her adding machine in front of her.

“What’re you doing?”

She looked up at him.  “Thought I’d work at home today.”

“Well, why ain’t you in your office?”  He had been looking forward to the same peace and quiet he had been enjoying since the attack.  The house was entirely empty while Lureen was at work and Bobby was at school.  This left Jack free to lounge around the silent living room, sometimes just thinking, sometimes looking at one picture of Ennis he had—one that he’d stolen from Ennis’s wallet and cut Alma out of ten years ago—and sometimes starting in on his first beer of the day as early as ten in the morning.  There wouldn’t be any of that with Lureen in the kitchen and the sound of that son-of-a-bitch adding machine rat-tap-tapping filling the whole goddamned house.

“Didn’t want to miss you when you came down.”

He slumped in the seat across from her.  “Why?”

“Where the hell did you go last night?”

“What’re you talking about?”  Defensiveness was an automatic reaction.

“You think you’re so sneaky, don’t you?  Slipping out at two-thirty in the morning.  What the hell could you be doing at two-thirty in the morning?”

Jack shook his head.  “Ain’t none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t.  I am your wife!”

“I don’t gotta tell you about every little thing I do.”  Jack felt oddly calm and very right in his opinion.  Why the hell should he tell Lureen anything?  What the hell did she know about anything?

“You don’t tell me about anything you do, Jack, and I’m fucking sick of it.  Men don’t just sneak out of their wives’ beds at all hours.”

“I was just taking care of something, all right?”

“And what is so wrong with me that you can’t even tell me what it is?  I am trying so hard to make this work, but you just pull further and further away.”

Jack wanted to feel sympathy as he looked at his wife who never cried with tears streaming down her cheeks.  He wanted to feel guilty, but he was so sick of guilt.  There might have been a time when he would have gone over to Lureen and comforted her, told her that there was nothing wrong with her.  He may have tried to make up for it with a romantic evening or a piece of jewelry.  But his desire to be the good husband and do the right thing despite who he was had left him.  He didn’t care anymore.  He would stay in this bitch of an unsatisfactory situation because he had no choice, but he wasn’t going to go to great lengths anymore to pretend that he was happy.

He stood up.  “I’m going back to bed.”  He heard Lureen call his name as he left the room, but he pretended not to hear.

Instead, he went back up to their bedroom, and sat up on the bed.  He found the square he had cut out of the classifieds a few days earlier, and used the telephone on his bedside table to call the number.  He told the person on the other end of the line that he had seen an ad in the Childress Index for a job selling insurance and that he was interested.  He was told about the job, which was mostly what he expected: going door to door and trying to convince people that they should buy the company’s insurance.  Jack agreed to go in for an interview the following week.

If he got the job, he probably wouldn’t be all that happy at it.  In fact, he’d probably be plenty miserable.  But at Newsome’s he was being driven insane, and if one day he snapped and strangled L.D. to death, his problems would be made even worse by adding a murder charge to them.  So he opted for the dull but safe job.  It was possibly a job that would allow him to be miserable in peace.  And even that was a bit of a comfort.

*          *            *

On a late Wednesday afternoon, Ennis was helping Greg lock the final bull into his stall when the foreman, Barry Levinson, asked to speak with him.

Ennis worried that he might be in trouble.  But when Levinson closed the door to his office and sat down at his desk, he had a smile on his face.

“Well, Ennis, take a seat.”

Ennis sat across from his boss, holding his hat on his lap, wondering if he should have taken it off in the first place.

Levinson cleared his throat.  “Well, how you been lately?  You’ve seemed quiet.  Quieter than usual, I mean.”

Ennis shrugged, wished folks would stop asking him how he was.  Wished Levinson wouldn’t say “well” all the time.  It bugged the hell out of him.  “I’m getting by.”

“Well, good.  Listen, I got this favor to ask of you.  It ain’t a small one.”

“Sure,” Ennis said.  He’d never had any reason to say no to one of his bosses.  Unless it meant giving up his week off so that he could go—well, that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore.

“Well, I got this rancher friend.  His spread is smaller than this one, not as well kept.  In fact, place was nearly falling apart as of late.  Well, this buddy—Cal Renolds is his name—he came into some money since his old man died.  Wants to put it towards making some changes ’round his place: fix things up, and wants to start a new bit of business as well.  Has this idea about buying colts, training them, and then running some kind of an operation where folks can take a riding tour ’round his property.  He’s convinced tourists’ll eat it up.”

Ennis shrugged.  “Makes some sense.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so.  ’Cause he knows about riding horses, but don’t know much about buying or training ’em.  Needs someone to come help him get set up over the next couple of months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, like I said, he’s an old buddy of mine, and I want to help him out.  So I told him I could send him someone who could help him do just that.  Someone he could trust who works hard.”

Ennis wasn’t an idiot.  “You mean me?”

“I sure do, Ennis.  So what do you think?  He wants you to spend until about November there, helping him buy and train about six colts.  Sound all right?”

Ennis grunted.  “What are you going to do without me?  Thought you said you needed me all summer, through August and all?  I—I cancelled plans for that, and I don’t see how now you can just—”

“Now, Ennis, don’t get yerself all riled up.  Well, it’s all taken care of, see?  He’s gonna send me one of his men to take over your job while you’re away.  Says he’s got a good guy who works hard.  Not sure if he can measure up to you, but, well … want to help out my buddy.”

“And pay?”

“He’s willing to pay ten per cent higher than you’re making now.”

“Hm,” Ennis said.  He’d never been a big fan of change, but this offer was sounding more and more appealing.  Getting to work just with horses and getting paid more for it?  Couldn’t be bad.  He wasn’t exactly having the time of his life working for Levinson, though he was a good guy.  He might not like change, but he’d learned that change usually came whether he wanted it or not.  “Whereabouts is this job?  Still in the Riverton area?”

“Well, ah, that’s the thing.  It’s a bit out of the way.”

“Would I have to move?”

Levinson chuckled nervously.  “Well, yeah, you’d definitely have to move.  The ranch is in Alberta.  Up in Canada.”

“You … you want me to move to Canada?”

“Well, now, it ain’t that far.  The ranch itself is pretty close to the border, so you’d basically just be going through Montana and you’d more or less be there.  And it’s only temporary.”

“I dunno, Barry …”

The thought of moving, not just to a new town or state, but to a new country seemed like too much for Ennis.  He wasn’t no traveler.  He didn’t want to be far from his girls neither.

“C’mon, Ennis.  A change might be good for you.”

Why did everyone think that a change was going to solve all his problems?  First Alma, now Levinson?  He didn’t see how mixing everything up in his life was going to make anything better.  Still, it wasn’t as though he was seeing his girls even once a week, and the thought of a job involving just horses was mighty tempting.

“When you gotta know by?”

“Well, you can let me know in the morning.”

Ennis nodded.  “All right, then.  I will.”

Ennis left the office and got into his truck.  His mind was spinning, but even as he backed onto the road, he was pretty sure of what his decision was going to be.