A Love Born From Steel
Author's Note: Just for fun, written in response to various prompts. 250 word limit (one went over). Enjoy. MaineWriter
Well, using the theme, forgetfulness, we have Jack and Ennis, at the Lazy L, having one of their skinny dipping afternoons down by the river. 248 words, just flew out of me... Enjoy...
Jack and Ennis were lying on a blanket, listening to the sound of the river, the horses softly nickering where they stood, their reins looped over the branch of the tree.
"Hey, Mr. Memory," said Ennis softly.
Jack smiled at him. "What old memory do you want me to dredge up today?" he said.
"I was just thinkin'," said Ennis. "Remember that fishin' trip—not sure when, mebbe five years ago—when we found that big grassy meadow, spent the whole day lyin' in the sun, screwin' on that blanket of mossy grass?"
"Sorta like we do here, ain't it, cowboy?" said Jack, as he gave Ennis's cock a little tug.
"Yeah, but that day…" Ennis let his voice drift off. "That day got me through many a cold winter day, I hafta say Jack. Remembering the sun, how warm it was. One of the few fuckin' fishin' trips we ever had when we weren't in the fuckin' freezin' cold."
"Let's forget the bad parts, En. Let's only remember the good parts."
"Which bad parts, Jack?" said Ennis. "Were there bad parts?"
"Every time we fuckin' said good bye," replied Jack, "was a bad part. Lookin' in yer eyes and knowin' I wouldn't see 'em for four, five, six months…that was a fuckin' bad part."
Ennis pulled Jack in close, looking in his eyes. "Ain't got no more o'those, cowboy," he said. "No more bad parts, no more good byes. You can forget all that shit right now."
The prompt for this was "going to the post office." Okay, so it's not exactly the post office, but it has to do with mail. Jack and Ennis, still at the Lazy L -- 242 words.
Ennis came into the kitchen, the mail in his hand. "You got a post card, Jack," he said.
Jack wiped his hands on a towel, taking the card from Ennis. "Me?" he said. "Who's writin' me?" But before Ennis could answer, Jack was reading the card.
Dear Uncle Jack,
Thank you again for a wonderful visit. I had so much fun at the Lazy L and it was great to get to know you. It was great to see my daddy so happy, too. I miss you, Uncle Jack, and can't wait for our next visit.
He looked at Ennis, smiling. "That's sweet, huh?" he said. "A thank you note."
Ennis nodded. "Nice polite girl, that Junior," he said. "Knows her manners."
Jack looked at him. "She had t'get it from somebody," he said.
"Whaddya mean?" asked Ennis.
"Yer always sayin' you were a lousy husband and mediocre father. The lousy husband part I can see, but I'm not so sure I agree with the mediocre father. Ain't nothin' mediocre 'bout the fatherin' job ya did while Junior and Jenny were visitin'."
Ennis thought about that for a minute, then looked at Jack. "Understandin' love is makin' a difference," he said. "Lovin' you is makin' me a better father t'them." He pulled Jack in for a kiss. "I love you, cowboy," he said, softly.
"And I love you too," said Jack, his words lost in Ennis's lips.
And just for fun--this is the dinner conversation they had, the night that Jack made the famous "Crab Mongol." 265 words...enjoy!
Ennis sat down at the table, looking at the serving dishes in front of him. He had had a long day of painting the house, it had been hot, he was tired, and he was hungry.
"What are we havin' tonight, Jack?" he asked.
"Somethin' new that I found in my cookbook," Jack replied. "It's called 'Crab Mongol.""
"Hmm," said Ennis, serving himself some rice, then spooning the Mongol on top. He pushed his fork around in the mixture, trying to figure out exactly what it was. The color was odd, he thought, never saw food that was such an unusual shade of … gray.
He took a bite and moved the food around in his mouth and as he swallowed, he realized it was the worst thing he had ever tasted. It was all he could do not to spit it out on the plate.
Ennis looked at Jack, trying to gauge his reaction. Jack had a strained look on his face.
"What's in this, anyway?" asked Ennis.
"Um, a can of tomato soup, a can of pea soup and a can of crab."
Ennis looked at him. "Yer fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" he said.
Jack looked at him, puzzled. "No, that was the recipe."
"Jack, I don't even know how to fuckin' cook, and I could tell you that anything with a can of tomato soup, a can of pea soup and a can of crab is gonna taste like shit. And this does. What were you thinkin'?"
"I was thinkin' it sounded easy," said Jack, with a sheepish look on his face.
This was in response to a prompt to write something about buying a car. 244 words.
"Y'know, cowboy, yer gonna be driving back and forth t'Riverton, four or five times a year t'pick up the girls, we might wanna think 'bout buyin' a car."
"A car," said Ennis. "I ain't ever owned a car."
"Yeah, well," said Jack, "I think it's a damned sight more comfortable for Jenny and Junior to have a back seat, not be squished three across in the front seat of a truck. Besides," he added, "we have a car, I might be able t'go with ya too, help with the drivin.'"
Ennis thought about this for a minute. What Jack said made sense. "Okay, then," he said. "What kinda car? And don't suggest no fuckin' Cadillac, I hate those flashy pieces o'shit."
Jack smiled to himself. He had never cared for Lureen's red Cadillac, either. He thought about cars he had seen on the road. "We could get a station wagon," he said.
Ennis frowned. "Station wagon? Too fuckin' domestic," he said.
Jack laughed. "Okay, how 'bout a Corvette."
Ennis looked at him, incredulous. "Last time I looked, cowboy," he said, "Corvettes only had two seats."
"How 'bout a Ford Pinto?" said Jack, with a small smile.
"A Ford Pinto?" said Ennis. "Are you nuts? That's a little matchbox piece o'shit. Not sure my legs could even fit in a fuckin' Ford Pinto. Why are ya even suggestin' this?" he asked.
"'Cause it's named after a horse?" said Jack, giving Ennis a poke in the ribs.
Jack and Ennis, at the Lazy L, a few days after their visit to the Lubbock Furniture Store. The prompt was "something to do with furniture." 232 words.
"Jack," said Ennis, "did ya happen t'notice at the furniture store the other day, there was a real nice livin' room set?"
"There was 'bout a dozen livin' room sets," said Jack. "Which one ya talkin' 'bout?"
"The one with the leather stuff," said Ennis. "There was a brown leather couch, and a big club chair with a foot stool…"
"Ottoman," said Jack, interrupting.
"What?" said Ennis, not understanding.
Jack looked at him. "I think that's what it's called—an ottoman, not a foot stool."
"Whatever," said Ennis, shrugging. "It was a nice lookin' set. I kept lookin' at that leather couch, picturin' you lyin' on yer back, yer black hair, yer white skin on the leather…picturin' me puttin' my cock up yer ass, yer legs in the air, you moanin' in pleasure, hands rubbin' smooth against that big leather couch…"
"You were thinkin' this in the furniture store?" said Jack. "I didn't notice."
"You didn't notice the big ol' hard on I had?" said Ennis. "That's why I kept shiftin' in the chair the whole time yer ol'boyfriend Ray was talkin' 'bout Dr. Fucker."
Jack shook his head. "Ya hid it well, cowboy, but I wish ya had told me."
"Why?" said Ennis.
"I woulda bought ya the couch along with the bed."
"Can we go back?" said Ennis, with a small smile.
"Ya doin' anythin' this afternoon?" Jack replied, with a wink.