“Jesus,” said Jack1. “Ennis?” But before he was out of the truck, trying to guess if it was heart attack or the overflow2 of an incendiary rage, Ennis was back on his feet and somehow, as a coat hanger3 is straightened to open a locked car and then bent4 again to its original shape, they torqued things almost to where they had been, for what they’d said was no news. Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved.
What Jack remembered and craved5 in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger. They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing ruddy chunks6 of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis’s pocket, from the sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy7 heat layers above the fire. Ennis’s breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations8 of the humming like faint electricity and, standing9, he fell into sleep that was not sleep but something else drowsy10 and tranced until Ennis, dredging up a rusty11 but still useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, “Time to hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you’re sleepin on your feet like a horse,” and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkness. Jack heard his spurs tremble as he mounted, the words “see you tomorrow,” and the horse’s shuddering12 snort, grind of hoof13 on stone. Later, that dozy14 embrace solidified15 in his memory as the single moment of artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred16 it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face because he did not want to see nor feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he thought, they’d never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.
Ennis didn’t know about the accident for months until his postcard to Jack saying that November still looked like the first chance came back stamped DECEASED. He called Jack’s number in Childress, something he had done only once before when Alma divorced him and Jack had misunderstood the reason for the call, had driven twelve hundred miles north for nothing. This would be all right, Jack would answer, had to answer. But he did not. It was Lureen and she said who? who is this? and when he told her again she said in a level voice yes, Jack was pumping up a flat on the truck out on a back road when the tire blew up. The bead17 was damaged somehow and the force of the explosion slammed the rim18 into his face, broke his nose and jaw19 and knocked him unconscious on his back. By the time someone came along he had drowned in his own blood. No, he thought, they got him with the tire iron. “Jack used to mention you,” she said. “You’re the fishing buddy20 or the hunting buddy, I know that. Would have let you know,” she said, “but I wasn’t sure about your name and address. Jack kept most a his friends’ addresses in his head. It was a terrible thing. He was only thirty-nine years old.”
The huge sadness of the northern plains rolled down on him. He didn’t know which way it was, the tire iron or a real accident, blood choking down Jack’s throat and nobody to turn him over. Under the wind drone he heard steel slamming off bone, the hollow chatter21 of a settling tire rim.
“He buried down there?” He wanted to curse her for letting Jack die on the dirt road.
The little Texas voice came slip-sliding down the wire. “We put a stone up. He use to say he wanted to be cremated22, ashes scattered23 on Brokeback Mountain. I didn’t know where that was. So he was cremated, like he wanted, and like I say, half his ashes was interred24 here, and the rest I sent up to his folks. I thought Brokeback Mountain was around where he grew up. But knowing Jack, it might be some pretend place where the bluebirds sing and there’s a whiskey spring.”
1 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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2 overflow | |
v.(使)外溢,(使)溢出;溢出,流出,漫出 | |
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3 hanger | |
n.吊架,吊轴承;挂钩 | |
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4 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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5 craved | |
渴望,热望( crave的过去式 ); 恳求,请求 | |
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6 chunks | |
厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 ); (某物)相当大的数量或部分 | |
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7 wavy | |
adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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8 vibrations | |
n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 );震动;感受;(偏离平衡位置的)一次性往复振动 | |
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9 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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10 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
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11 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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12 shuddering | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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13 hoof | |
n.(马,牛等的)蹄 | |
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14 dozy | |
adj.困倦的;愚笨的 | |
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15 solidified | |
(使)成为固体,(使)变硬,(使)变得坚固( solidify的过去式和过去分词 ); 使团结一致; 充实,巩固; 具体化 | |
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16 marred | |
adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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17 bead | |
n.念珠;(pl.)珠子项链;水珠 | |
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18 rim | |
n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
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19 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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20 buddy | |
n.(美口)密友,伙伴 | |
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21 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
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22 cremated | |
v.火葬,火化(尸体)( cremate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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24 interred | |
v.埋,葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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