Finchè c'è vita c'è speranza!

Last one, I swear! ^^

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 12:50:05 GMT

I understand I might be turning boring by now but I need to let you know the following...

The fan fic archive officially moved to my NEW DOMAIN, so you may now reach it at:
http://bbm.supersolenoid.it
http://rps.supersolenoid.it

My main domain (www.supersolenoid.it) will contain a general blog about my sites and links to them.
My old .Mac account (http://web.mac.com/luigi.adami) is still online and features again links to the fic archives as well as to my personal site.

The downside of this is that the SEARCH feature will no longer be available in the new domain. However, I'm looking into how to create a special news archive on my .Mac account to link to, in order to preserve that function. I'm sorry it took me so much time but I was going crazy because of the issues the size of the site was causing to the software.

And now, eventually, I might be able to go back at archiving as I'm DAMN LATE (permissions date back to the end of May...)!

Love,

SS

To anybody who might care... ^^

Fri, 28 Jul 2006 10:17:51 GMT

By updating my personal site, I deleted by mistake the original DISCLAIMER page of the BBM fanfic archive: I'll only be able to restore it tonight when I get home (that is, in 8 hours from now, more or less).

The site is anyway available using this URL:
http://web.mac.com/luigi.adami/iWeb/FANFIC/home/home.html
http://web.mac.com/luigi.adami/iWeb/RPS-MAIN/home/home.html
or
www.supersolenoid.it

I'm moving it to a new host soon, to better manage it, so forgive the present mess... there will be then a bbm.supersolenoid.it and a rps.supersolenoid.it.

Love,

SS

NEW RPS SECTION

Tue, 04 Jul 2006 22:34:11 GMT

Here we are again, guys!

A new RPS section was just added to my archive (http://web.mac.com/luigi.adami/).
There's a lot to do yet, but the main structure is ready and live.

At the moment (I'm arranging a major technical operation to the archive itself to solve a few software issues) THE NEW SECTION MAY BE REACHED through the News in the main archive or directly at the following link:
http://web.mac.com/luigi.adami/iWeb/RPS-MAIN/home/home.html

Thank you again for your support, comments and suggestions.

Love,

SS

The Sequel

Sun, 02 Jul 2006 08:27:58 GMT

Author: Supersolenoid(s)

Pairing: Heath/Jake
Rating: PG-13

Author Note: A short one-shot. There were other few things I could have written but probably nothing really important for the plot itself, so I decided to keep it short. This crazy idea came into my mind today as a tribute to Jenna's masterpiece which I simply, candidly worship and adore. <3

Author Note (2): I couldn't actually have it beta-tested and I was too tired to use the vocabulary to check a few words and verbs: I hope you may enjoy it anyway... comments and corrections are welcome!

Disclaimer: I don't know Heath Ledger's and Jake Gyllenhaal's sexual habits (I wish I did! ^_^) so this is just a work of fiction. No harm and no disrespect are meant. I do love those two guys (God only knows how much...).

--- - ---

The phone rang a dozen times before a sleepy Heath Ledger took it up. He gave a quick look at his watch: fuck! It was seven o'clock in the morning and he went to bed no more than four hours earlier. He slowly answered, not even trying to hide his disappointment: "H'lo... who the fuck is that?"

"Hey, mate!" said the man with a teasing tone from the other side of the line. He was the one and only unmistakable Jake Fucking Gyllenhaal.

"What the fuck, J: it's barely dawn here! Let me sleep..." Heath grunted.

"Oh, wake up, Sleeping Beauty! I've got great news I cannot wait to tell you about."

Heath rubbed a hand over his face: "Mph! You could have woken up the girls, you know..."

"No, I couldn't, silly. You told me they moved to Michelle's folks for the weekend. Unless they changed their plans, that is... did they?"

Another grunt. "No. Hang on for a sec, you mind?" Heath left the phone on the bed, without waiting for Jake to acknowledge, and he went to the bathroom and pissed. Then he quickly washed his face with cold water hoping to wake up a little more. He went back to the bed and threw himself over his back, picking the phone up with a big sigh.

"Ok, bugger. Now tell me what came up to make you call me this early, perfectly knowing you were going to wake me up. Not that you usually wait for a reason to, anyway..."

"Thank you, sweetheart: that's very kind of yours to recognize." Jake said, giggling. "Anyway, I just got the big news: they are going to do it. Script is ready and shooting locations were confirmed right this morning. Your agents are being contacted this very afternoon, which actually means this morning in New York, for the contract. I do hope they are going to make things easy and smooth. Mine already set it all half an hour ago."

Heath was confused: "What the hell are you talking about?!? Who's going to do what?"
Maybe the cold water wasn't enough but Michelle wasn't there to fix him one of her legendary good-morning coffees.

"Come on, dumb-ass! The sequel! They are going to produce the sequel to Brokeback Mountain! Isn't that cool?"

Heath's mind took a while to boot-scrap (just like a computer-freak friend of his used to say) but then it worked at full speed: "Ehm, Jake. I don't know whether you actually watched the movie but... your character DIES at the end of the film."

Jake rolled his eyes: "I know that, asshole! I read the novel, you know?"

"Oh, I'm touched. So what? Are you returning to haunt my rusty trailer? Are you reincarnating into a girl? Are you going to be my guardian angel who will help me find a new partner? Oh, no: don't tell me. They are going to shoot the missing twenty-year-along-dates where Ennis and Jack fuck each other from the beginning to the end. Or..."

"Will you PLEASE shut up?" Jack said, feigning to be bothered. "Actually, they are going to shoot an AU."

"An 'hey you'?!? What the fuck is that?" replied Heath, frowning.

"An Alternate Universe, Mr. Know-it-all. Where Ennis and Jack face a different destiny and happen to have a life together."

A long moment of silence fell between them until Jake spoke again, thinking the line went dead. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"You are not serious, are you? Of all the bullshits... By the way: what would the title be? Brokeback Strikes Back? Return to Brokeback Mountain? Brokeback to the Future? Look who's riding now? Brokeback II: The Wrath of Alma?"

"No, actually neither Michelle nor Anne are going to star, this time. There were parts for them too but the Production thought it was going to be too difficult to gather the whole staff back so they sticked with the two main characters only."

Another long moment of silence.

"Oh, come on! It's going to be fun! And this time we'd be alone and..."

Heath didn't let him finish the phrase: "Don't go there, Jakie, please. You already know how tough it's been for Michelle after Brokeback and the gossips regarding you and me. She faced the phantom of being replicating the same menage-a-trois for months before I was able to convince her that everything was right..."

It was Jake's time to be silent. Heath just waited for him to be ready to speak again. He hadn't to keep his breath for long.

"There's somebody new." Jake whispered.

Heath almost gasped: "W-What?"

"The title. It's 'There's Somebody New'."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Heath managed to say, covering the phone with his hand to hide his sigh of relief.

"Ennis and Jack meet up for their last fishing trip and Jack tells him that he won't see him anymore because his moving to Amarillo and build himself a new life and he afterwards finds somebody new. So, it's up to Ennis to have the gut to make the move and go get his lover back." All the fun seemed to be gone in Jake's voice and his last words were barely audible.

"Jakie, I couldn't. I couldn't even figure out how to tell Michelle about this. About you and me together for weeks. She couldn't bear it. She's been good enough in accepting you as godfather to Matilda."

"I thought she liked me!"

"She does, silly. She really does! But it's difficult, can you possibly blame her?"

"No..." Jake sighed. "I do not. It's just that... sometimes... I feel like she knows something and that she's just being a bitch on purpose..."

The tone in Heath's voice got tougher all of a sudden: "I'll say it only once, Gyllenhaal: don't you ever dare to speak that way about Michelle again! She's my partner and she's mother to my daughter and..."

"As if I could forget that. I think I may feel lucky of you not calling her your soul mate or something like that. Fuck!"

Heath sighed for the pain he felt he caused to his... friend. "Jakie, did the idea it might be difficult for me as well EVER strike your dumb head?"

That was how things have been between them for long. Laugh and sorrow. Sweetness and hardness. Kind words and bad ones. Trying to get the most of it. The best. Whatever. The Australian's voice sweetened a bit: "You don't even know how suspicious she got when she read in a magazine you were going to move to New York."

"Which is exactly why I told you to let her know as soon as possible, you genius!"

"Oh, fine. Go on. Everybody knows that, after all: Gyllenhaal is the smart one while Ledger is the dumb with the dick!"

Another break. Another sigh.

"Listen, Heath. Should she be all that suspicious about you and me it would only mean she does know something or, at least, that she's quite aware there might be something going on. Either the case, we shall not be able to keep it going for long before the whole thing explode. Face it, Heath. The sooner, the better."

"I am NOT going to live my life like I was expecting something bad to happen, even if I think I maybe deserve it." Heath said, his teeth almost grinding.

"And God knows how much I want you not to!"

Heath took a long breath before speaking on: "Listen. I may have messed up my life and the irony I even played a character who did exactly the same is not only unbelievable, it's almost unbearable. I could make the fortune of a therapist willing to write a book about his or her most bizarre cases. The fact is... I have no fucking idea how the hell we might be able to sort things out but I don't want my girls to suffer because of my dicked-thinking mind nor I want you to."

"So, I guess it might be just the time for both of us to move on, then. You are right. Fuck Brokeback Mountain! Fuck Ennis and Jack! Fuck you and me! Maybe I should simply do like Jack did, and find me somebody new. Someone I might be important for, no matter what."

"Jakie..." Ennis started but couldn't finish since Jake hung up.

Heath rubbed his face and leaned his head down against the pillow, closing his eyes and hoping to get back to sleep, somehow.

What a fool to think he really could.

--- - ---

A few weeks later, Jake's mobile rang on his night-stand. He lazily reach it out and clicked it open. "Hello?"

"Jake, it's me. My agents just signed the contract for the sequel. I'm on it."

"Fine." Jake replied flat, not letting his friend catch the grin shaping his mouth. "We'll be starting to shoot by the end of next month. I'll be probably back in the States in a couple of weeks, anyway. How did Michelle take the news?"

"She'll be fine with it, somehow. Do you know who's going to play your... er... Jack's new lover? That coach?" Heath asked, somewhat embarrassed and he didn't even know why.

"I met him yesterday. He seems fine. Interesting, actually, I'd dare to say."

"Is that so? Do I know him?"

"Don't think so but I'll introduce you to him. He's a good guy."

"Ok. Huh... Jakie?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you. I really do."

"Same here. See you soon, Heath. Bye."

"Bye."

Jake put down the phone.
There were things even Mr. Manly-Man Ledger had to learn. How to deal with his own feelings. How to make things out right. How to make choices when the right time came to. He'd have learned. Oh, yes: he'd have eventually learned.

Jake turned on his side where a large, muscular back rose from the bed sheets in all its glory. The man who was laying next to him seemed not to have been bothered by the ringing and the chatting. Instead, he slightly snored on.
Jake put an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, gently waking him up.

"Huh?" the other dozily said.

"Wake up, beauty. The sun is up and I don't want to waste the day sleeping. There are much better things we can do..."

"Such as?" the man said, smirking and pushing against Jake's chest.

"Such as getting our luggage ready. We are going to New York tomorrow."

"What for?!"

"I have to introduce you to a dearest friend of mine who's also your other fellow-actor in this new movie."

"Mmh, sounds fun..."

Jack tightened his embrace and started kissing his mate's neck.
The next months were definitely going to be interesting.

Very interesting.

.

The Long Goodbye

Thu, 15 Jun 2006 17:10:41 GMT

Well, I don't know whether I am actually authorized to say this but...

Did you know NEUONTZ actually removed his/her fics from his/her livejournal?
GREEN EYES and a few others are no more available for us to read.

I hoped he/she only removed the fics from my archive (because of any personal reason) and I accepted and respected his/her will. I'm so sad I found out they are no more available at all.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining. I'm just sad.
I know lots of people enjoyed those fics and this is exactly what I was most afraid of (you probably remember the mess that originated from my first post regarding my archive). I know authors have the right to do what they see fit with their creations.
I'm just sorry none will be able to enjoy those stories anymore.

I hope Neuontz had very good reasons to do that and I truely wish him/her the best.
I can't remember whether it was him/her who wrote a post about being talent-scouted.
Should that be the reason, I wish him/her to become a famous, successful writer!
One day, he/she might decide to return and bring us back his/her personal BBM world version.

Farewell, Neuontz, and all good things.

With true affection,

SS

A GIFTED DREAM

Fri, 28 Apr 2006 18:52:54 GMT

Title: A Gifted Dream
Author: Supersolenoids

Pairing: a lady writer / a young man - Ennis / Jack

Disclaimer: The characters of Ennis and Jack belong to the never too honored Annie Proulx (God bless her!) and so on... [insert usual disclaimer here]

I wish to deeply thank LETBE for the patient and detailed work as beta-reader: the comments and suggestions I received have been more than helpful, they have been inspiring and illuminating. THANK YOU, LETBE.

Author's Note: I'm applying a few minor changes and corrections to the story as I gather comments, suggestions and new ideas.

The lady writer woke up in the middle of night and reached out for the bottle of water on the nightstand. She took long gulps until she felt a bit of relief in her dry throat.
She got up, slowly, and moved towards the bathroom, needing to pee. Before pulling the handle she stopped, hearing the light sound of the wind blowing behind the door. Strange. She was sure she didn’t leave the window open as nights were still quite chilly, outside.
Robbers, maybe? She snorted to herself at the thought: robbers knew perfectly where to look for money or jewels and her house wasn’t exactly the Palace of Versailles.
She cautiously pulled the handle and opened the door, a sinister squeaking coming from the hinges. Now she could definitely hear and feel the wind blowing through the threshold.
She rubbed her eyes, astonished, and blinked several times in misbelief.

A wide, majestic expanse of green seemed to depart from her own feet, gently sliding down the slope, randomly interrupted by rocks emerging from the ground, blooming bushes and tall pine trees. In the distance, she noticed an irregular cloud of light brown, occasionally spotted in brighter and darker shades.

She stepped into the grass, a fresh sensation caressing her bare feet.
She was awake. She was sure about that. No dream she ever had was so detailed in colors, definition, sounds and smell. And WHAT a smell, she thought. Even the air seemed to carry the parfume of flowers and musk, of resin and acorns.
She walked easily, heading towards the cloud spreaded all over the hill. As she drew closer, she could see the rays of light giving a golden shade to that undefined stain and eventually revealing its very nature: sheep. Hundreds of sheep were placidly pasturing, taken care of and guided by the barks of a bunch of dogs.

Approaching the edge of the expanse, where it started to slide down more steeply, she noticed a dark shape laying on the ground and she almost jumped back, frightened.
A man, his back towards her, was lying on his right side, raised on an elbow. The sun, setting on the horizon against her eyes, only let her figure the details, merged with the long shadows elongating from the man’s body.
A cowboy hat on his head, he seemed to be wearing a pair of blue jeans, leather boots and a dark heavy jacket, she couldn’t figure out whether green or brown. He was laying there, peacefully, doing nothing but playing with some blades of grass.
She stood there, still uncertain about what to do: it all seemed so weird she decided that, after all, maybe she WAS dreaming.

Right before she made up her mind to draw close to the man, she heard the swish of approaching footsteps and she froze.
A man, similarly dressed but wearing a jacket of a lighter color. Same boots, same jeans, same hat style. This one, however, was handling a shotgun, or a rifle. From her visual angle, she saw his hair was somewhat curly and of a dark blond shade, while - now she could tell - the man on the ground had black hair.

Looking at their backs, she watched the blond man quietly sitting down, next to the other, and dropping the weapon on the grass. He embraced his own knees and sat there in silence.
There was something familiar in those two backs, something... recalling a past memory. A warm sensation grew in her breast while she crossed her arms, surprised not to be freezing in her light nightshirt.

“They are magnificent, aren’t they?” she suddenly heard and hardly stiffled a cry when she turned around and saw a young man standing next to her. He smiled gently and nodded a clear ‘don’t worry’.
Nice looking, probably in his late twenties, he had blond, curly hair and two narrow, ice-blue eyes. His lips barely moved when he said “Good evening, Mrs Proulx. Nice to meet you.” and a wide range of white-snow teeth showed their immaculate perfection. The only flaw in that overall beauty was that he pronounced her name as ‘Proolcs’.
“Nice to meet you, my young friend. But my name is Proo. Just leave the L and the X. And yours is?”
“Oh!” he exclaimed, blushing. “I’m sorry: my name is Warren. Warren W. Worthington. And I’m honored to meet you, ma’am.”
“Is that so?” she replied with candor and then, when he didn’t answer back, she followed his gaze which was stuck again on the two men on the ground, not very far from where she and the guy were standing now.

She saw the blond man turned his head towards his fellow and she could figure he was saying something. The other nodded similarly in reply. Even if no whisper reached her ears, she found herself mouthing those words, as well as her newly met fellow.

This is a one-shot thing we got goin' on here.
It's nobody's business but ours.
You know I ain't queer.
Me, neither.

Sudden, warm tears stung her eyes while her hand instinctively reached out for her new friend’s. They laced their fingers and waited in silence for a few moments.
“Is this a dream?” she asked.
“Yes.” he replied, quietly.
“I don’t feel like I’m dreaming.”
“You aren’t. I am.”
She stared at him. “Then, what is this?”
He smirked. “This is my power. My gift. And my damnation, too.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I can make dreams so powerful they can gather other people inside themselves. People I know and admire. People I love. But sometimes my imagination traps myself in my dreams and I can only live when I sleep.”
“I see. It’s beautiful here. It’s so realistic and detailed...”
“Only because you made it so. And the movie that came from your story made it real. I didn’t even need to figure out the landscape as it was so clearly pictured by the images on the screen.”
“It’s a marvellous gift.”
“You are the gifted one, Mrs. Proulx, that’s the truth.” This time he pronounced her name correctly and she could see the candor in his eyes.
“The truth is I shouldn’t have let them go. I said once, in an interview, that I never fell in love with any of my characters. I lied. I did fall in love with both Jack and Ennis. Love, or some other strong feeling of connection which has persisted for the years since their story was written. I thought I had successfully banished them over the years. I reckon I didn't.”
It was his time to recognize the sincerity in her gaze.

When Ennis and Jack moved down the hill, Warren walked Mrs Proulx back to her bedroom, still holding her hand. On the edge of the dream, they stopped before parting, staring at each other.
“Will you continue this dream?” the writer asked.
“As long as I can. Or forever. Or until I find another dream. I don’t know what might be better.”
She nodded knowingly and kissed him good bye. Then, she turned and walked inside, back home, suffused with pleasure and warmth.

Warren walked back and sat down on the grass, hands in his pockets.
In a few steps he had covered the distance from the hill to the camp, just in time to see Ennis Del Mar, twisting his hat, slowly and humbly approach the tent flap.
When he entered the tent and crouched, Warren could see the white, strong arms of Jack Twist pulling him and, again, silent words were spoken.

I'm sorry.
It's all right. It's all right. Lie back. Come on.

.
.
.

HERITAGE OF THE PAST - Chapter 3: Part 1

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 18:17:13 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Chapter 3 - Part 1
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!).

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

Casper, July 1988

Ennis Del Mar rubbed his sweated forehead and shielded his eyes with a hand (his hat hanging on the fence) while looking at the bright, blue sky. It was a damn hot summer, especially for Wyoming standards.
He was used to hard ranch work and, to him, the job at the Country Club wasn’t hard at all. Even some of the younger collegues were somewhat embarassed of being of much shorter breath than the “old man”.
More than that, working hard all day long - until his arms seemed two pieces of wood and his back creaked like a rusty door hinge - was the only way for Ennis to keep his mind busy, his mouth shut and his eyes dry. Sometimes he got so tired he could barely undress and get into bed, going asleep at once. Some other times, he dozed off on the sofa in the living room, a bottle of beer still in his hand and the TV on, until he felt the gentle hands of his daughter putting a blanket on his shoulders: he pretended not to have woken up to have her let him alone. To leave speeches unspoken. To leave words unsaid.
He was kind of proud because Alma Jr. had just earned her Degree in Communications and, hopefully, her days as waitress at the Country Club would soon end. She deserved more. More than he ever dreamt of. Not that he was the day-dreaming kind: even at night, apart from the occasional nightmares, his only rare dreams involved Jack Twist (as much as he could remember, though). He didn’t consciously think his life was doomed to frugality (maybe because of what he did - or was) but he somehow felt it couldn’t be any other way.
Surrounded by an indefinite, yet persistent sense of void, of loss, his only relief were the times he could be home alone, his daughter at work and her child taken care of by a neighbour.
Locked up in the bathroom, sitting on the WC, he caressed his meat gently, slowly. Go easy, cowboy. Make it last. Make it last. I’m going nowhere. I’m here with you. I’m here for you. All yours. Ever. When the moment came, he found himself gasping, his eyes wet. The physical pleasure only lasted a few seconds but the chance of figuring again Jack’s face in those very moments... that was the pleasure he longed for.
As time passed, however, Jack’s features seemed to be fading, sliding away, getting confused and darker. That was the only thing he was really afraid of. To forget. To loose contact with the only fucking sweet thing he had in his life. Gone, now, before he could have enough of it. As if there could be an “enough”.
The guilt was the real pain and the thought of loosing Jack’s memory made the sense of guilt even stronger, almost unbearable. It seemed the more he thought of his lover, harder it got recalling his face. Fortunately, he had at least one old, worn picture of him at the Rodeo Jack won in Texas, many years ago. When he was young. When they both were young. When Ennis thought he had all the time of the world.
Now the time was gone as well as his mate. Gone forever and he couldn’t fix it. Only stand it. Stand it. Ennis was fed up with standing. There were moments he only wished to cuddle up under the blankets, in his bed, and sleep until there was nothing more to stand.
“Mr. Del Mar!”
“Hey, Mr. Del Mar!”
Shaken out of the torpor he seemed to have fallen in, Ennis nodded back to Mark Guybrush. Mister Del Mar. Strange how one never gets used to some things. Well, he was fifteen to twenty years older than most of his fellow workers so he shouldn’t be surprised to be called with respect. “Are you done with feeding the horses?” Ennis asked.
“Yeah. George, Jack and I were going for lunch, if you don’t mind. Are you coming along?”
“Well, thanks but... no. I wanna finish here first. I’m due home earlier today. I’ll leave the rest to you. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job. Can I count on it?” Ennis said, his gaze on the younger man.
“S-Sure, Mr Del Mar!” Mark replied, agog and embarassed at the same time as the old man wasn’t easy at paying anyone compliments.
“Good.” he said and went back to his work, with no further cerimonies.
Mark hesitated for a moment and then went his way, his lips outlining a smile.

That evening Ennis was home by five because their neighbour, Mrs Kravitz, had a date and couldn’t baby-sit Ennis Jr. any longer.
He had a shower and went to his room to find his jeans and a couple of shirts - ironed and folded - laying on his bed. Shaking his head, half a smile, he took a shirt to his face. The smell of softener, the smell of cleanliness in general, had the power to make him think something was right, after all. Not that he was ready to admit it with Alma Jr. She was doing more than she should in taking care of the house, of her child, of him. Little darling.
He dropped the towel and stood for a while in the bedroom, naked, looking at his figure in the long mirror hanging on the wall. Besides the scratches, a few small skinspots and a bit of dead weight on his sides, his shape didn’t change much in twenty years. His hair made the difference, longer and of a darker blond, and his sideburns, neglected and greyer day by day.
And, yes... the wrinkles. His face showed most of the efforts his life claimed during the years. Sun. Winters. Wind. Snow. Tears.
Dressing up, his bare feet on the wooded floor, Ennis silently thanked God he had the courage of asking his daughter to come live with her after having to leave that rusty, smelling trailer in the middle of nowhere. Even if he maybe ruined her life too. Just as he did with Alma. As he did with Jack. He seemed to be the greatest disgrace for anyone close enough to him.
He got closer to the mirror and looked again at his face.
His daughter, Alma Jr., once asked to come stay with him - she was nineteen - because her mother and her step-father were awful strict on her. What did he answer?
You know I ain't set up for that.
Simple. Easy. Quick.
Without her, five years ago, what would he have done?
Fuck!
His teeth grinded.

Ennis Jr was waiting for his grandpa in Mrs Kravitz’s porch, sitting on her swing while she was gathering his toys into a platic bag.
Approaching, Ennis nodded at her.
“Good evening Mr. Del Mar!” she smiled, polite.
“Thank you again, Mrs Kravitz. Was my little darling a good boy, today?” he said, staring at him with a smirk.
“Yes, papa!” Ennis Junior grinned while throwing himself from the swing, his arms wide open to grab his grandfather.
Ennis crouched and lifted his nephew up. “I’m your grandpa, Junior, not your papa!” he said quickly but, secretly, his heart bounced everytime the kid called him that.
He never had enough of fatherhood and, wasn’t it for his better half’s discomfort with bringing them up in a hovel, he’d love a bunch of kids. Maybe she wasn’t the love-in-a-cottage kind.
No. That was unfair.
He knew exactly why Alma gave up and money wasn’t the main issue.
After the divorce, anyway, he was more than busy with taking care of himself and paying alimony to his ex-wife and their two daughters: more kids weren’t a priority.
Ennis noticed Mrs Kravitz was looking at him with a waiting glance: “Mr Del Mar... ehm... if I may... I know you two are doing your best in taking care of your jobs, of the kid and so on... but... ehm...”.
She looked evidently discomfortable with what she was trying to say.
Now what! He thought.
“I beg you to let me help you at least with the cooking, when Mrs Del Mar is not at home. Or you can come have dinner here, if you prefer. It would be easier for me and I could look after Ennis in the meanwhile...”
“Whoa, whoa! Mrs Kravits, it’s... it’s very kind of yours but I don’t think...”
“Oh, please! Think about the child! I personally have nothing against men helping in the kitchen but you can guess the kid needs healthy and differed food and we both know cooking is not your strong point and...”
Ennis cocked an eyebrow: “Do we?”
“Well, ehm, you know, I talked to Mrs Del Mar the other day and...”
He stared at her with a funny look, half serious and half amused: “It’s a deal, Mrs. Kravitz. It’s for the child’s sake, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. Yes! Certainly! Thank you!” she replied, visibly relieved, her hands joined.
He nodded good-bye and left, leaving Clara Kravitz to her business.
Walking home, the sweet weight of Ennis Jr in his arms, Ennis Del Mar thought he had to pay attention: smiling too much could lead to more wrinkles on his face. He stifled a laugh.

At nine p.m. Alma Jr was back home, carrying a couple of big pizzas. Ennis Jr. was already asleep in his room.
“Hi, daddy!”, she greeted graciously. Ennis thought there was a special quality in her voice, in her smiles: she never seemed to pretend, even when she came home tired, no dinner set up and Ennis Jr crying. There was a force in her, something made of his spirit of endurance and her mother’s determination and will. There was a honesty he admired and loved.
“Hi, sweetheart. How’s your day?” he drew near her and kissed her cheek.
“Fine. I took tomorrow off. I’m having a few interviews in the afternoon and I wanted to keep the morning free.” She set up plates and silverware on the kitchen table.
“Going to stay up late, tonight?” he asked, while two beer from the fridge.
“Well, we are having our famous talk tonight, aren’t we?” she said, innocently.
He froze. Shit!
“Uh... yeah, sure.”
She noticed his hesitation.
“Dad, is everything allright? You said you had something important to talk about but if you don’t feel like...”
“No, no. It’s fine. This talk was long due and...” - he paused, trying to gather the words - “I need to talk about it and God knows if you deserve it, if he deserves it.”
“He who? Ennis Jr?” she asked.
“No. Jack. Jack Twist.”
He sighed and she stared at him with a questioning look.
The time has come, eventually. Time for explanations and maybe for a bit of relief.
Ennis Del Mar knew his daughter had a nerve but if anger was coming, it could be time for that as well. Better than silence. Better than fake tolerance.
Better than compassion.
They slowly began chewing their pizzas before the man spoke his first words.
.
.
.

HERITAGE OF THE PAST - Chapter 2: Part 2

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 11:38:03 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Chapter 2 - Part 2
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!).

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

“Mph! Who’s now, this early?” Ennis Jr. complained while reaching for his telephone. The outer display was flashing MICHAEL.
“Sorry, Mom. It’ll be quick.” he told her. She was getting up again to tidy up.
He moved into the living room, surprised and curious as Michael wasn’t exactly the morning kind. He grabbed and opened the mobile: “H’lo?”
“Hi, sweetheart! How is it going?” Michael said in a teasing voice.
“You didn’t call me at 8.00 am to ask me how my outing was going, asshole, did you?” Ennis replied, half laughing.
“Oh, sweetheart, you are hurting me! Don’t you know you are the most important thing to me?”

Michael A. Boreanaz was Ennis Jr.’s best friend since childhood and, as a matter of fact, his guide for most of the challenges in life a teenager may go through. Handsome, charming and a total mess, Michael was always in the front line, was it for a party, a fight or for sex.
After Ennis clearly understood he himself was gay, Micheal was the first person he told to, only to discover Michael actually already had sexual experiences with other guys but “he didn’t make up his mind, yet”. Right then he tried to tongue-kiss Ennis, only to get his face slammed. He rubbed his cheek and said: “Well, thought you needed training, mate!” and that ended the story.
Much to Ennis frustration, Michael entitled himself paladin of Ennis’s virginity and decided - on his complete own - that HE had to choose the subject for Ennis’s first time. Not that he showed bad taste for guys but, obviously, Ennis Jr. had his own ideas in matter of place, time and mate...

“Come on, Michelangelo, what’s the matter?” said Ennis, teasing his friend as usual because of his middle name - Angel - and his aversion for it.
“Fuck you, sweetheart! I just called because I cannot meet you for lunch. I must go pick up a friend of mine at the airport by midday and then I’ll have him get settled in my apartment. Which I forgot, obviously.”
Memory for dates wasn’t exactly his strong point. Especially when it was to commitments.
“I see, no problem. Do I know him? Or her?”
“No, you don’t but I told you about my european friend, didn’t I? He’s italian.”
“Guess so. Oh, yes! Wasn’t he the one you... enjoyed during your trip to europe, last year?”
“I do hope you’re not going to introduce yourself saying I told you about when you’ll meet him, Ennis...”
“Oh, I give you my word to that... I will!” Ennis replied, laughing.
“Asshole!”
“Queer!”
“Look who’s talking!”
They both laughed out loud for a while, teasing and insulting each other. None could make Ennis feel at ease like Mikey did, making him laugh till he was breathless.
When they both calmed down, Michael resumed: “Oh, he’s due on the United 6265 from Amarillo together with a friend of him. He says he’s cute.”
“Amarillo? Why is he flying from Texas? Did he visit Cape Canaveral?” - Ennis longed for a tour of the space centre since he was a child.
“No. His friend is from Childress and they met there. Now they are both coming here for a couple of weeks.”
“Mmh... planning a three-some, mate?”
“I wish, dear, never tried that yet. But it’d be a four-some because you’d be in the party, sweetheart!”
“Oh, certainly, then we can turn the lights off, start the music and see who gets sat on whom!”
“Hope you’ll recognize my smell, mate, then.” Michael said, with a fake tempting voice.
“I will and I’ll stay away from your tiny, little thing, darling!” Ennis replied.
“Say it again and I’ll have you choke with it.”
And they went again on their teasing ritual. They planned to meet that same night for a drink and said good-bye.

When Ennis put down the mobile, his mother was already dressing up.
She worked for an advertising agency in South Lincoln Street and not only she liked the job but she was also quite good at it. After Ennis Jr. was born, she worked for a while as waitress of the Country Club but, thanks to her father and the favours he did her employer - like taking care of his horses - her working hours were quite flexible so that she could successfully take care of her son, run her home and get a Degree in Communication. When she met her husband-to-be and eventually married him - quite quickly - instead of doing the housewife she threw herself in the market, applied for several trainee positions and developed her career step by step, slowly but steadily.
In general terms, they were a wealthy family. Ennis Jr.’s decision to study in Casper caught his parents in surprise as he could apply for better (and more expensive) universities but they soon learnt he had his way of doing things and they didn’t fight his decision.
“Enie, I won’t be back for lunch today. At what time are you coming back, tonight?” she asked while getting her bag.
“I’ll be done at work by 9.00 pm but Michael and I are meeting with a few more friends for a drink at a place on West Yellowstone. I’ll have a pizza so I won’t get home for dinner and I don’t expect to be back before midnight.”
“Who’s driving?” asked his mother.
“Michael. You know he never drinks more than a beer. Don’t worry.”
“Ok, honey. Good luck for your first day at work. Remember the keys, this time: I don’t want to get up at four o’clock in the morning to open the door, you know.”
“Will you EVER forgive me, mum?” he said, crossing his arms in a fake sulk. “However, I won’t need luck for my new job...”
“How is that?” she asked, curious.
“Michael told his brother I’m gay so Adam thinks I’ll be the best clerge ever, said that everybody knows gay guys are nice, friendly and chatty.”
“Oh, dear, he didn’t!”
“Yeah, you bet. It’s a long story, anyway. And sooner or later I’ll have my vengeance.”
“What world do we live in?” she said, smiling and kissing her son in the fore-head.
“The best, if you are in it.” he replied with a smirk.
“Ah, my blond, little devil knows how to please his mommy.”
“Well, I could have made a great lawyer...”
“Did you already work out the way to tell your step-father about your thing or are you planning to keep the secret? I wouldn’t feel comfortable in hiding it to him, you know.”
“Sort of. I have a week or so to think about it, anyway. What about my father?”
“What do you mean?!”
“Can I send him a postcard for his birthday or for Christmas, reading something like: ‘Guess what? Your son is a queer, too!’”
“Now, THAT is a big idea!” Laughing, she said him good-bye and headed out, walking downtown.

A few hours later, Ennis already had his lunch - remains found in the fridge - and was getting ready to go work. He was surprised to receive another call from Michael.
“What’s up, today? Are you missing me, mate?”
“Yeah, like a broom up my ass, sweetheart.”
“You said it, Mikey”
“Oh, fuck off. I’m calling for news.”
“What news?” - he checked his watch, it was one o’clock - “Oh, did they arrive?”
“Yes and... he’s such a bitch!” Michael said with true disgust.
“Who? Your italian friend?!”
“No! The one with him, that texan whore...”
Ennis cocked an eyebrow: “Did you talk to him?”
“No. Why?”
“Well, it might be easier to backstab if you had at least a conversation...”
Mike replied in a lower voice, probably the other two were approaching: “He looks great. He looks smart. What else do I need to know?”
“Oh, I get the point.”
Ennis laughed, knowing perfectly Michael’s continuos race to be the only king of the hill. He was as much masculine in aspect and manners as he was feminine in vanity and obsessions. Maybe it was this inner conflictuality making him so appealing for both women and men.
Over the phone, in distance, he heard a new voice with a strong latin accent: “We are done with the suitcases, Michael. This is the friend of mine I told you about: Robert Tweest.”
Ennis heard his friend replying and then quickly telling him: “Ennis, I’ll see you later at work.”
“Okey-dokey.” He hanged up.
A few minutes later, Ennis Jr. left home and headed toward Collins Drive.

HERITAGE OF THE PAST - Chapter 2: Part 1

Mon, 10 Apr 2006 15:43:43 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Chapter 2 - Part 1
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!).

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

By 7.30 am Ennis Jr. made it back, swet darkening his t-shirt’s collar and armpits. As he usually did, he followed the squared path edged by South Wolcott, East 2nd, South Beverly and East 15th St.. Sometimes, when he had no time for the full run, he cut down South Conwell, passing by the Cemetery. Maybe he wasn’t the fastest runner in the world but he definitely featured endurance.
He took off his shoes and left them outside, went in and put the mp3 player and the keyring on the small bowl purposely staying on a shell next to the main door. As everybody was used to simply throw keys in there, his poor iPod was hopelessly scratched, looking much older than its four months of age.
His mother was already up and getting breakfast ready - thanks God, he thought - so he quickly greeted her and went for a hot shower. Well, more than hot. Actually almost boiling if it wasn’t for the security valve. Ennis liked standing under the water jet, slightly shifting position as the temperature made his skin painful. Much to his mother complaint, of course. He got use to know it was time to get out when Alma Jr. started to scream. This time, however, he heard none shouting from the kitchen so he enjoyed the shower longer than the usual ten minutes. To him, it was some kind of ritual of “sterilization”: he could feel the stress, the fatigue and all of those bad thoughts sliding down with the water into the drain.
Ennis closed the tap and got out of the shower-box, the bathroom a dense cloud of steam. He dried himself with one of the big towels hanging on the wall and then grabbed his bathrobe. He went down to the kitchen, barefeet, while drying up his hair with a smaller towel.
“Will you EVER get used to slippers, at least when you get out of the bathroom, honey?”, said his mother, drawning his son’s eyes on the damp footprints he left on the floor.
“Mph!”, was all she got in reply before he sat at the table.
Definitely, his mother was in a good mood today: fried eggs with bacon, toasted bread, pancakes and strawberries where ready on the plates, together with the usual bottle of fresh milk, a whole pint of black coffee and a copy of the Casper Journal. When he tried to grab it Ennis’s hand got slammed by a wooden ladle.
“Don’t you dare, honey!”, Alma Jr. said with a devilish look in her eyes.
Rubbing his painful hand top, Ennis slowly began to chew his breakfast, planning a retaliation. He turned on the TV to watch the news and in twenty minutes they both were done.

When his mother went to the sink with the dirty plates, Ennis spoke in a low, soft voice.
“Mom... I’ll take care of that later myself: I’m due to the evening shift, today. Please, sit down and tell me about my grandpa.”
He heard a sigh, her shoulders raised and lowered.
Alma Jr. went back to her chair and slowly massaged her temples, as if it helped making up the speech.
“Well, you know your grandpa died on 1989 - when he was fortyfive - and you were almost four so you can barely remember him, I guess.”
Ennis nodded. Trying hard, he could recall his grandfather’s tender embrace, his warmth, his eyes carefully looking after him when he played outside in the small garden directly leading to the street. But it was more a sensation than a real vision of him. A clash of sound and colours. Maybe a smell of worn leather.
“Apart from you, he was the person I loved more in my whole life. More than your father, more than my mother or my sister. We always shared a special link. When I was a child, I could stare at him in adoration for minutes, simply looking at him while he smoked or had a beer. When he realized, he’d raised me in his arms, grinning, and asked what I was doing. I was addicted to those precious, kind and rare smiles of him. Later on they became less frequent and eventually vanished after the divorce. He always did his best, as far as I can say, to stay close to my sister and me, even if we could met him once a month.”
Ennis Jr. already knew about the divorce as his grandfather lived with his daughter almost six years long while his ex-wife, grandma Alma Sr., still lived in Riverton with her new husband, Bill, and the children she got from him. “Children” who were over thirty by now, anyway.
His aunt Francine moved to Vermont many years ago and Ennis Jr. only saw her once in a while. Once every one or two years, actually.
“What you probably don’t know is the reason of MY divorce from your father.”
“Well”, he replied, “I hardly recall him as well, considering he never showed up in the past ten years. Not that I miss him, anyway. Someone here has been more than good on his own for both, you know.”
He catched a smirk on his mother’s lips for the appreciation.
“Fact is, apart from the usual issues a couple may face, Kurt and I really started to quarrel after your grandfather joined us and especially after he found out my father’s past affair with Jack Twist.”
That name, again. Ennis Jr. was agog, eagerly waiting for the full story.
“Only THEN I realized how few I knew of Kurt Long and how easily you may get involved with someone you really start discovering when you live together, day by day, and not before. Your father wasn’t really a bad person and I’m sure he loved me but he showed such a hatred towards my father I just couldn’t stand. Even now I can’t understand how the hell I didn’t catch up with him being that homophobic before I married him.”
She sighed again but it seemed more a sigh of relief to Ennis Jr.
“I guess, however, it’s because it wasn’t an issue before my father. Anyway, I was pregnant with you, I had no job and the house we were in was simply too expensive for us. Obviously, I was paid alimony by your father - as he was the one in desertion - but money was never enough, especially after your birth.
Till then, my father didn’t live: he survived. When he moved in after the ranched he worked for was sold, he just tried to be as discreet as possible. He was out working most of the day and went back home for dinner only, barely talking, and then out again for a beer in a pub and back home to sleep. It almost seemed he wasn’t living with us at all and maybe that was what he tried to do, for him and for us. Staying quiet on his own, as invisible as possible. I had to actually raid into his room and steal his clothes to be able to wash and iron them, much to his complaint. He wanted to cause no trouble and I think that he was really uncomfortable, embarassed to need and stay with his daughter.”
Ennis Jr. knew that life in the past decades hasn’t been easy for many people, especially in rural America. Not that it was THAT easy even now, for as many people living in the city suburbs... He figured out that when his grandparents divorced, Ennis Sr. had to pay alimony for his daughters, find a new home, etc. It would be a nightmare nowadays, not to mention forty years ago but couldn’t his grandfather be able to save any money? Was it so difficult to find a decent job and keep it? That was a thing he couldn’t understand.
“However, when he realized someone needed him, that I needed him, your grandpa managed to find a better accomodation here in Casper, a good work for him before your birth and a work for me when you were one year old and could be baby-sitted. When he was home and I had to work in the evening he stayed with you all the time. And when I could stay home at night, he was there just like you may only expect from your husband. I couldn’t be more lucky and happy: there were no more moments for me to feel alone or insecure. The period between my divorce and his death has been the hardest but also the sweetest in my life.”
Another sigh, and this time her eyes were wetting.
“We both worked hard to make things going and sometimes I feel I was even able to give him back some sort of happiness. The sense of family. The warmth of being needed and loved. Then... then... just as we were all settled and I met Alex... he had that damn heart-attack.”
She paused, as to calm down and not to stumble over the words.
“Doctors said it wasn’t that bad but he simply wasn’t recovering because he wasn’t... fighting. He was letting go.” Alma Jr. sniffed and got a paper tissue to dry up her nose even if it wasn’t wet at all.
“It was like he knew I was safe and needed no further support.
My father! Mr Ennis ‘tough-skin’ Del Mar! How could it be he wasn’t fighting? How could he think I needed him no more? I couldn’t believe he had fought all of his life and now he wasn’t able to face the most important battle. Only when I looked into his eyes for the last time, laying on that clean, white bed, I realized he simply couldn’t stand it anymore and was looking for rest, for peace. Rest for his body, peace to his soul.”
When Alma Jr. rubbed her eyes with the tissue, Ennis Jr. tried to look somewhere else not to unease her. He could understand the depth of her feelings but he wasn’t really able to get... into the story, yet. Something was missing. Something capable of making him understand where all of that misery came from.

“Your grandfather definitely was not a man of speech but if you knew him enough you could deal with him without needing many words. I know he loved me. He loved my sister and he even loved my mother for a while. For sure, he did love Jack Twist.”
She said it clearly now. Ennis Jr.’s grandfather was gay. Just like he himself was.
“My grandfather was a queer, then, huh? Seems your name-giving was some sort of predestination...”, he said, half smiling.
Alma Jr. twisted her lips. “Well, that’s not the way he considered himself, said he kept saying he only loved one man but... yes.”
“What do you mean? Being gay it’s not a matter of how many people you’ve slept with!”
“Oh, please! Don’t go there. I told you I’m happy if YOU are happy but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to talk about sex, yet. Especially same-gender sex, you know.”
Ennis tried to reply but she hushed him with a quick gesture.
“Let me go on, please. We’ll have our talk on the matter later on, dear. I’m quite curious to know how you manage the bees and flowers’ affair...”
Ennis Jr. blushed in embarassment and tried to go back to the main topic. “What exactly do you know of their story, anyway? If my grandfather wasn’t fond of talking, how could you know what happened?”
“Well, we spent four years together and I learnt he was more inclined to talk when we were alone, none else around. It wasn’t easy in the beginning but then he somehow managed to open himself up. I think he was even relieved sometimes, being able to tell me what he had to keep for himself for twentyfive years.”
“Twentyfive years?! But...”
“Yes.” she nodded. “He met Jack Twist when he wasn’t twenty, right before marrying my mother. Since then, they kept seeing each other once in a while for twenty years.”
“Wow!” he said, amazed, and all of a sudden a whole set of questions came to his mind, in rush. Where does that Jack Twist live, now? Did his mother ever meet him since? Did he come to his grandpa’s funeral? Well, he certainly did. He was so excited about the possibility of meeting his grandpa’s former lover he almost lost his bathrobe while reaching for his mother’s hands.

Just then Ennis Jr.’s mobile rang.

HERITAGE OF THE PAST - Interlude 1

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 13:02:11 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Interlude 1
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!).

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

While running down South Walcott Street, his back to College Drive, Ennis thought how lucky he was in that his family moved to Casper, years ago.

He could get to his classes in just a few minutes by bike (or by bus, during the colder seasons) and he was saving lots of money his family would have spent for a decent accomodation and the daily expenses. If there was a thing he could point to in his brief life, he had never been in debt. He actually hated being in debt and that was a thing he seemingly had in common with his grandfather. As far as his mother once told him, anyway.

All of a sudden, he recognized the light weight of his iPod Nano in the right pocket of his pants and, being alone on the street in the early morning, he thought it was a good idea to listen to some music. "I wish I could use a proper headset instead of plugging these pieces of plastic into my ears...", he complained to himself. Turning the player on, the first song on his playlist was one of his George Michael's favourites. When George began singing "My mother had a brother", Ennis found a new, closer meaning to the song and figured out how a few changes would make it perfectly fit his present situation.

<<<
My mother had a father
They say that I was born on the day that he died
Someone to cling to, she said
When all the noises and the shame came calling

My mother had a father
I thought I knew them all, I thought I knew
But she lied
I said, "Show me his face again, tell me again why he died"

She said he couldn't wait for the things that I've seen
She said he wasn't strong enough, he never dared to dream a life
like mine

My mother had a father
Not too sensitive but kind
Seems it all became too much for him..
It seems it took his very life
Mum, I can't imagine the joy and pain in equal measure
Tears in the dirt, and all over your newborn treasure

I guess he had to wait until my momma had me
I guess he couldn't wait another moment to be free
In endless sky.....

But mama will you tell him from your boy
The times they changed
I guess the world was getting warmer
And we got stronger
Mother will you tell him about my joy
I live each day for him
The sun came out, yeah, and I'm just breathing it in

[breathing...]

My mother had a brother
Same desire, different time
Seems the empty spaces tortured him
Until it took his very life

I don't know why I waited so long to talk
I just don't know what I was thinking of..
All that wasted time

But mama will you tell him from your boy
The times they changed
I guess the world was getting warmer
While we got stronger
Mother will you tell him about my joy
I live each day with him
Your son came out, yeah,
And I'm still breathing it in

And I swear now that freedom is here
I'm gonna taste it all for you boy
I'm bad to the bone, I'm just a little torn
I'm making so much love

So those of us who have nothing to fear
We've got to make damn sure that it was worth it
I'm bad to the bone, I'm just a little stoned
I'm making so much love

I was a prisoner, but he saved me
Broke into my dreams and said, "Who cares?"
I was a prisoner, so disgrace me
I'm glad to be home
And I don't believe they care.
>>>

HERITAGE OF THE PAST - Chapter 1

Mon, 03 Apr 2006 21:55:05 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!). Quotes from the original masterpiece have been used to simply give fans that sweet, old home-like feeling...

Authors Note: This an idea which suddenly came into my mind. I don't know whether I'll be able to develop it to its full potential (said I'm not english-mother tongue nor a pro-writer...) but, with your help and support, it might work somehow... Should any more skilled writer come up, I'll be pleased to hand over the pen... pardon, the mouse! I'm here now with a full chapter: the actual plot is a long-developing one but I hope you will give me the enthusiasm to continue.
Other fanfics have been used as starting-point: I shall credit them later on as the story proceeds.

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

--- June 2006 ---

Ennis Del Mar Jr. woke up before five, that morning, the wind gently blowing in through the window curtains.
He got up, scratching his belly and pubic hair and reached for the kitchen to turn on the coffee-maker. Yawning wide open in the dawn light coming through the kitchen windows, he looked at the huge Swatch clock hanging on the wall and realized he got up damn too early (and, also, that he had to get rid of that cumbersome piece of plastic at the first occasion). However, the strong smell of coffee was already casting its magic and he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to bed.
At least, he could go footing, have a shower and wait for his mother to wake up while cooking some sort of breakfast. Not that he actually could cook but at least he was pretty good with the can opener, as he kept telling his mother when she complained about his poor house-keeping skills. "Nowadays guys have to look after themselves! You won't find a decent girl willing to take care of you if you cannot help her with the house!", she was used to say. Yes, she WAS used to say that. But only before yesterday evening. Before their “funny” chat.
Grinning at the thought, he waited for the first cup of coffee to be ready before getting his grey gym pants, a black t-shirt and his favourite white runners.
He scratched his dark blond hair, stretched his neck, put the cup in the sink and went to the front door, still enjoying the strong, black coffee in his mouth. When he opened the door he felt the refreshing morning air sorrounding his body and face. He breathed deeply, nose up towards the blue and orange sky, just like a wolf searching the smell of its preys in the wind. He checked he had the keys with him and locked the door before moving.
The sky was crystal clear: it was going to be a gorgeous day. A perfect beginning for his new summer job. He might have to stay with his mother until he finished the college but at least he could take care of part of his own expenses by working during the summer.
Not that his mother and her present husband couldn't but it was somehow relieving for him to be able to buy on his own clothes, CDs and even his new laptop.
His step-father was really a good man, after all. Alex (as Ennis got soon used to call him) supported Ennis’s mother in all the possible ways and even if he was somewhat rigid (but only for the right reasons) he was in general kind to Ennis and let his mother take care of her son’s education without much interference.

That morning, however, Ennis was suffused with a sense of pleasure because a guy named Jack Twist was in his dreams. Later, that very morning, his mother would be going to tell him the story about his grandfather (of whom he carried the same name) and this man, Jack Twist. He couldn’t believe it at first: he’s grandpa, a real rough-mannered, son-of-a-gun cowboy was...
With that thought on his mind and not knowing why a person he never met could make him happy and homesick at the same time, Ennis started to run, heading downtown...

--- 12 hours earlier ---

Ennis got home before supper, as usual, and threw his backpack on the sofa.
He heard his mother Alma working in the kitchen and shouted: “I’m home, Ma!”.
“Hi, honey! I’m in the kitchen.”, she replied.
It took a while for him to step forward: chewing his nails (as he was used to do when he was nervous), he tried to recall the words of the speech he prepared in many weeks. This talk to his mother was long due: not that it was really necessary but Ennis decided that making things clear would have been better for their relationship. Talking to his stepfather would have been another question but, thanks God, he was often traveling south because of his job and he wouldn’t have made it back before a week or two.
“Hi, Ma.” he said stepping into the kitchen.
“What the...” Ennis started. “Have we been robbered?!” he continued, cocking an eyebrow.
The kitchen was such a mess he could barely recognize the room and even his mother was covered in flour.
“Oh, come on darling! Stop teasing me and help. I’m trying Mrs Minelli’s recipe for homemade pasta. She even lent me her diabolic little machine.”
“You are trying to stuff too much pasta in the machine. That’s why.”, he stated.
“Well. Hear, now. My son can’t-find-my-own-socks now comes out to be a pro chef in italian cuisine, nonetheless. How the hell would you know?”. She glanced at him, half-smiling, waiting for an answer.
“Oh, let go. Anyway, I... er... I have a more important matter to tell you about.”
He lowered his eyes, trying to gain an appropriate seriousness, thing not always easy with his mother. She seemed to try and make fun of anything all the time, as to avoid serious matters, as if she was actually scared of them. Ennis never got exactly why even if he remembered a period of his life (but he was too young to recall the full memory of it) when his mother was often sad and even her smiles looked... pretending. Eyes like a dog’s, missing its master.
“What’s up, dear? Huh?”, she said gently tilting her head to catch his gaze from below.
“Mmm... looks important: are you in love or something?”, she continued.
“Something.”. Another pause.
“Oh, stars! Come on, honey. Don’t keep me on pins and needles! What’s the matter?”
“Mom, I’m gay.”, Ennis said so rapidly it almost seemed one word. It was his time to gaze at her, waiting for an answer. Or shouts. Or an insult. Or any other reaction. He just hoped it wasn’t a flying kneading machine: it was made of steel...
Her reaction surprised him: “Oh, you are not gay: it’s a phase.”, she replied and went back to turning the crank.
“Now, why do you think it’s phase? I know I AM gay and always was!”
“Honey, gay men have taste and if you were gay you would at least know how to match the colours of your clothes.”, she stated, giving his t-shirt a meaningful look.
Ennis watched down his own t-shirt and then, confused and amused at the same time, looked again at her: “Who’s teasing whom now, Junior?”
She suddenly stared at him.
Ops.
He forgot in the rush of the moment that he wasn’t allowed to call her that way. That was the only thing really capable of setting her on a war footing.
She slammed a hand on the table (raising a generous cloud of flour) and lowered her eyes.
Ennis waited for the worst.
But then she looked at him with a gentle, tender gaze. She whitened his left cheek with her hand and said on a low, deep voice: “Enie, dear. I’m sorry. I should know it’s not easy for you but that’s how I always dealt with my problems: grinning and bearing them.”
“Mom...” he tried.
“Shhh... listen.” she continued, wet eyed. “Let’s say a kind of knew it.”
“How d...” Ennis protested, knowing he was definitely not the usual girly fag but she stopped him again.
“Nevermind. Let’s say I never found you very... involved with girls but that’s not the question. Fact is I was scared to death you COULD be gay because of the way your grandpa lived.”
Tears were making their way down her cheeks, now.
Ennis was astonished: “My grandpa? What the hell? I barely remember him!”
“True, but you DO resemble him, more in appearance than in manners, fortunately. Your hair is blonder and your eyes are slightly brighter but features are the same when he was your age. I have got a couple of pictures, somewhere. And a worn-out picture of Jack Twist, too.”
A deep sigh came from her breast.
“Who’s he? And what’s the story with my grandpa? Mom, I really don’t get it...”
Well, he maybe WAS getting the picture but it sounded so unbelievable he wanted his mother clearly declare it.
“Wait a moment.”, she said, taking off the pinafore and heading to the living room.
She came back with a small bronze-like box. Opening it, Ennis noticed her hands were slightly trembling. She handed him two pictures, both black and white: one portrayed his grandfather with a horse and the other one a handsome, dark haired man handling a prize. A rodeo prize maybe, Ennis thought. His mother was true: he really resembled Ennis Del Mar Sr. but he was never that serious. On the other hand, that Jack Twist was gorgeous! They both had to be in their twenties in those pictures.
Ennis rubbed Jack Twist’s photo with his thumb, as if hoping to remove stains and scratches to admire it better. He was now too intrigued (and quite relieved his declaration went to the background, by then). “So, what’s the story with these two, Mom?”
She dried up her eyes with the back of the hand. “It’s a long, long story. But not in a far, far galaxy, dear.” she said, anticipating his joke much to his disappointment. She knew perfectly how fond he was of Star Wars.
“Actually, it’s a twenty-year long story, Enie. Of love and pain. Between these two men. And after Jack Twist died, your grandfather did his best to help me until I was settled and then he...” now she was crying. “Then he just let himself die. Not even the joy of your birth gave him the strenght to go on alone.”
It took a while for her to be able to speak again, while Ennis tried to hug and comfort her.
“Enie, I do want to tell you what I know of their story because I don’t want you to suffer as much as my father did. That’s my only concern. I don’t care whether you are into boys or girls as long as you are happy. Believe me!”, her eyes were wide open and steadily looked at him.
“Thank you, Mom.” was all Ennis was able to say while hugging her mother even tighter.

They had dinner quietly, neither of them speaking of the topic for the rest of the evening.
She cleaned the mess in the kitchen, watched a new episode of “Desperate Housewives” on the sofa and then headed to her bedroom. Passing by Ennis’s, she stepped in and said: “Honey, tomorrow I’ll tell you about your grandfather and Jack Twist. Goodnight.”
“’Night, Mom.”, said Ennis nodding.

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be a great day, he thought.
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HERITAGE OF THE PAST

Sat, 01 Apr 2006 14:47:35 GMT

Title: HERITAGE OF THE PAST
Disclaimer: The characters of Brokeback are not mine and belong to Annie Proulx (God bless her!).

Authors Note: This an idea which suddenly came into my mind. I don't know whether I'll be able to develop it to its full potential (said I'm not english-mother tongue nor a pro-writer...) but, with your help and support, it might work somehow... Should any more skilled writer come up, I'll be pleased to hand over the pen... pardon, the mouse! ^_^
Only a few lines, here, to check whether the plot sound interesting...

Summary: Life hasn't been easy for Alma Jr. since she divorced in November '86 and only her baby son, Ennis Jr., gives her hope for a brighter future...

--- June 2006 ---

Ennis Del Mar woke up before five, that morning, the wind gently blowing in through the window curtains.
He got up, scratching his belly and pubic hair and reached for the kitchen to turn on the coffee-maker. Yawning wide open in the dawn light coming through the windows, he looked at the watch hanging on the wall and eventually realized he got up damn too early. The smell of coffee was already casting its magic and he knew he wouldn't have been able to get back to bed.
At least, he could go footing, have a shower and wait for his mother to wake up while cooking some sort of breakfast. Not that he actually could cook but at least he was pretty good with the can opener, as he kept telling his mother when she complained about his poor house-keeping skills. "Nowadays guys have to look after themselves! You won't find a decent girl willing to take care of you if you cannot help her with the house!", she was used to say.

He waited for the first cup of coffee to be ready before getting his grey gym pants, a black t-shirt and his favourite white runners.
He scratched his dark blond hairs, put the cup in the sink and went to the front door, still tasting the coffee in his mouth. When he opened the door he felt the refreshing morning air sorrounding his body and face. He breathed deeply, nose up towards the blue and orange sky, just like a wolf searching the smell of its preys in the wind. He checked he had the keys with him and locked the door before moving.

The sky was completely clear: it was going to be a gorgeous day. A perfect beginning for his new summer job. He might have to stay with his mother until he finished the university but at least he could take care of part of his own expenses working during the summer. Not that his mother and her present husband couldn't but it was somehow relieving for him to be able to buy on his own his clothes, his CDs and even his new laptop.

That morning, however, Ennis was suffused with a sense of pleasure because a guy named Jack Twist was in his dreams.
With that strange thought on his mind and not knowing why a person he never met could make him happy and homesick at the same time, Ennis started to run, heading downtown...
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