brokeback mountain-第7部分

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　brown　stucco　house；　four　rooms；　two　down；　two　up。

　　Ennis　sat　at　the　kitchen　table　with　Jack's　father。　Jack's　mother；　stout　and　careful　in　her　movements　as　though　recovering　from　an　operation；　said；　〃Want　some　coffee；　don't　you？　Piece　a　cherry　cake？〃〃Thank　you；　ma'am；　I'll　take　a　cup　a　coffee　but　I　can't　eat　no　cake　just　now。〃The　old　man　sat　silent；　his　hands　folded　on　the　plastic　tablecloth；　staring　at　Ennis　with　an　angry；　knowing　expression。　Ennis　recognized　in　him　a　not　unmon　type　with　the　hard　need　to　be　the　stud　duck　in　the　pond。　He　couldn't　see　much　of　Jack　in　either　one　of　them；　took　a　breath。

　　〃I　feel　awful　bad　about　Jack。　Can't　begin　to　say　how　bad　I　feel。　I　knew　him　a　long　time。　I　e　by　to　tell　you　that　if　you　want　me　to　take　his　ashes　up　there　on　Brokeback　like　his　wife　says　he　wanted　I'd　be　proud　to。〃There　was　a　silence。　Ennis　cleared　his　throat　but　said　nothing　more。

　　The　old　man　said；　〃Tell　you　what；　I　know　where　Brokeback　Mountain　is。　He　thought　he　was　too　goddamn　special　to　be　buried　in　the　family　plot。〃Jack's　mother　ignored　this；　said；　〃He　used　a　e　home　every　year；　even　after　he　was　married　and　down　in　Texas；　and　help　his　daddy　on　the　ranch　for　a　week　fix　the　gates　and　mow　and　all。　I　kept　his　room　like　it　was　when　he　was　a　boy　and　I　think　he　appreciated　that。　You　are　wele　to　go　up　in　his　room　if　you　want。〃The　old　man　spoke　angrily。　〃I　can't　get　no　help　out　here。　Jack　used　a　say；　'Ennis　del　Mar；'　he　used　a　say；　'I'm　goin　a　bring　him　up　here　one　a　these　days　and　we'll　lick　this　damn　ranch　into　shape。'　He　had　some　half…baked　idea　the　two　a　you　was　goin　a　move　up　here；　build　a　log　cabin　and　help　me　run　this　ranch　and　bring　it　up。　Then；　this　spring　he's　got　another　one's　goin　a　e　up　here　with　him　and　build　a　place　and　help　run　the　ranch；　some　ranch　neighbor　a　his　from　down　in　Texas。　He's　goin　a　split　up　with　his　wife　and　e　back　here。　So　he　says。　But　like　most　a　Jack's　ideas　it　never　e　to　pass。〃So　now　he　knew　it　had　been　the　tire　iron。　He　stood　up；　said；　you　bet　he'd　like　to　see　Jack's　room；　recalled　one　of　Jack's　stories　about　this　old　man。　Jack　was　dick…clipped　and　the　old　man　was　not；　it　bothered　the　son　who　had　discovered　the　anatomical　disconformity　during　a　hard　scene。　He　had　been　about　three　or　four；　he　said；　always　late　getting　to　the　toilet；　struggling　with　buttons；　the　seat；　the　height　of　the　thing　and　often　as　not　left　the　surroundings　sprinkled　down。　The　old　man　blew　up　about　it　and　this　one　time　worked　into　a　crazy　rage。　〃Christ；　he　licked　the　stuffin　out　a　me；　knocked　me　down　on　the　bathroom　floor；　whipped　me　with　his　belt。　I　thought　he　was　killin　me。　Then　he　says；　'You　want　a　know　what　it's　like　with　piss　all　over　the　place？　I'll　learn　you；'　and　he　pulls　it　out　and　lets　go　all　over　me；　soaked　me；　then　he　throws　a　towel　at　me　and　makes　me　mop　up　the　floor；　take　my　clothes　off　and　warsh　them　in　the　bathtub；　warsh　out　the　towel；　I'm　bawlin　and　blubberin。　But　while　he　was　hosin　me　down　I　seen　he　had　some　extra　material　that　I　was　missin。　I　seen　they'd　cut　me　different　like　you'd　crop　a　ear　or　scorch　a　brand。　No　way　to　get　it　right　with　him　after　that。〃The　bedroom；　at　the　top　of　a　steep　stair　that　had　its　own　climbing　rhythm；　was　tiny　and　hot；　afternoon　sun　pounding　through　the　west　window；　hitting　the　narrow　boy's　bed　against　the　wall；　an　ink…stained　desk　and　wooden　chair；　a　b。b。　gun　in　a　hand…whittled　rack　over　the　bed。　The　window　looked　down　on　the　gravel　road　stretching　south　and　it　occurred　to　him　that　for　his　growing…up　years　that　was　the　only　road　Jack　knew。　An　ancient　magazine　photograph　of　some　dark…haired　movie　star　was　taped　to　the　wall　beside　the　bed；　the　skin　tone　gone　magenta。　He　could　hear　Jack's　mother　downstairs　running　water；　filling　the　kettle　and　setting　it　back　on　the　stove；　asking　the　old　man　a　muffled　question。

　　The　closet　was　a　shallow　cavity　with　a　wooden　rod　braced　across；　a　faded　cretonne　curtain　on　a　string　closing　it　off　from　the　rest　of　the　room。　In　the　closet　hung　two　pairs　of　jeans　crease…ironed　and　folded　neatly　over　wire　hangers；　on　the　floor　a　pair　of　worn　packer　boots　he　thought　he　remembered。　At　the　north　end　of　the　closet　a　tiny　jog　in　the　wall　made　a　slight　hiding　place　and　here；　stiff　with　long　suspension　from　a　nail；　hung　a　shirt。　He　lifted　it　off　the　nail。　Jack's　old　shirt　from　Brokeback　days。　The　dried　blood　on　the　sleeve　was　his　own　blood；　a　gushing　nosebleed　on　the　last　afternoon　on　the　mountain　when　Jack；　in　their　contortionistic　grappling　and　wrestling；　had　slammed　Ennis's　nose　hard　with　his　knee。　He　had　staunched　the　blood　which　was　everywhere；　all　over　both　of　them；　with　his　shirtsleeve；　but　the　staunching　hadn't　held　because　Ennis　had　suddenly　swung　from　the　deck　and　laid　the　ministering　angel　out　in　the　wild　columbine；　wings　folded。

　　The　shirt　seemed　heavy　until　he　saw　there　was　another　shirt　inside　it；　the　sleeves　carefully　worked　down　inside　Jack's　sleeves。　It　was　his　own　plaid　shirt；　lost；　he'd　thought；　long　ago　in　some　damn　laundry；　his　dirty　shirt；　the　pocket　ripped；　buttons　missing；　stolen　by　Jack　and　hidden　here　inside　Jack's　own　shirt；　the　pair　like　two　skins；　one　inside　the　other；　two　in　one。　He　pressed　his　face　into　the　fabric　and　breathed　in　slowly　through　his　mouth　and　nose；　hoping　for　the　faintest　smoke　and　mountain　sage　and　salty　sweet　stink　of　Jack　but　there　was　no　real　scent；　only　the　memory　of　it；　the　imagined　power　of　Brokeback　Mountain　of　which　nothing　was　left　but　what　he　held　in　his　hands。

　　In　the　end　the　stud　duck　refused　to　let　Jack's　ashes　go。　〃Tell　you　what；　we　got　a　family　plot　and　he's　goin　in　it。〃　Jack's　mother　stood　at　the　table　coring　apples　with　a　sharp；　serrated　instrument。　〃You　e　again；〃　she　said。

　　Bumping　down　the　washboard　road　Ennis　passed　the　country　cemetery　fenced　with　sagging　sheep　wire；　a　tiny　fenced　square　on　the　welling　prairie；　a　few　graves　bright　with　plastic　flowers；　and　didn't　want　to　know　Jack　was　going　in　there；　to　be　buried　on　the　grieving　plain。

　　A　few　weeks　later　on　the　Saturday　he　threw　all　Stoutamire's　dirty　horse　blankets　into　the　back　of　his　pickup　and　took　them　down　to　the　Quik　Stop　Car　Wash　to　turn　the　high…pressure　spray　on　them。　When　the　wet　clean　blankets　were　stowed　in　the　truck　bed　he　stepped　into　Higgins's　gift　shop　and　busied　himself　with　the　postcard　rack。

　　〃Ennis；　what　are　you　lookin　for　rootin　through　them　postcards？〃　said　Linda　Higgins；　throwing　a　sopping　brown　coffee　filter　into　the　garbage　can。

　　〃Scene　a　Brokeback　Mountain。〃

　　〃Over　in　Fremont　County？〃

　　〃No；　north　a　here。〃

　　〃I　didn't　order　none　a　them。　Let　me　get　the　order　list。　They　got　it　I　can　get　you　a　hunderd。　I　got　a　order　some　more　cards　anyway。〃〃One's　enough；〃　said　Ennis。

　　When　it　came　　thirty　cents　　he　pinned　it　up　in　his　trailer；　brass…headed　tack　in　each　corner。　Below　it　he　drove　a　nail　and　on　the　nail　he　hung　the　wire　hanger　and　the　two　old　shirts　suspended　from　it。　He　stepped　back　and　looked　at　the　ensemble　through　a　few　stinging　tears。

　　〃Jack；　I　swear　　〃　he　said；　though　Jack　had　never　asked　him　to　swear　anything　and　was　himself　not　the　swearing　kind。

　　Around　that　time　Jack　began　to　appear　in　his　dreams；　Jack　as　he　had　first　seen　him；　curly…headed　and　smiling　and　bucktoothed；　talking　about　getting　up　off　his　pockets　and　into　the　control　zone；　but　the　can　of　beans　with　the　spoon　handle　jutting　out　and　balanced　on　the　log　was　there　as　well；　in　a　cartoon　shape　and　lurid　colors　that　gave　the　dreams　a　flavor　of　ic　obscenity。　The　spoon　handle　was　the　kind　that　could　be　used　as　a　tire　iron。　And　he　would　wake　sometimes　in　grief；　sometimes　with　the　old　sense　of　joy　and　release；　the　pillow　sometimes　wet；　sometimes　the　sheets。

　　There　was　some　open　space　between　what　he　knew　and　what　he　tried　to　believe；　but　nothing　could　be　done　about　it；　and　if　you　can't　fix　it　you've　got　to　stand　it。