5

A Brokeback Mountain Ghost Story

By Zane Twist

(Author's note: This little fantasy was written in January 2006, my second-ever fanfiction, shortly after I completed "Some Sweet Life," to which, in a manner of speaking, it is a sequel. I wrote this little story at a time when I had a need to imagine Ennis and Jack having that sweet life together, but could not yet bring myself to think in terms of an Alternative Universe. At the time this story was written, I could only imagine Ennis and Jack having that sweet life in the Hereafter. Now, after writing and posting three AU tales, this little ghost story seems like just a pleasant little fantasy, and as such I offer it to all fans of our favorite cowboys.—Z.T., October 2006.)

Shortly after the dawn of the present century, and not long after the remains of one Ennis del Mar were found at the trailhead at Brokeback Mountain, Wyoming, rumors began to circulate that the soaring peaks of the mountain were haunted. Moreover, as incongruous as the rumors were in the age of the laptop and the cell phone, in addition, nobody seemed to know how or where the rumors got started. Nevertheless the rumors circulated like an undercurrent among hunters, fisherman, hikers, backcountry skiers, and other outdoorsy types in Wyoming and elsewhere in the West. Strange stories began to be told, occasionally making their way into the local media in Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah, of strange lights and strange voices seen and heard on the heights of Brokeback Mountain.

Backpackers camping on the mountain reported hearing voices and seeing campfires on Forest Service land where no one was supposed to be. One brave soul, a weekend mountain climber from Denver, actually approached one of the fires, only to find nothing when he reached the spot where he was certain he had seen firelight and heard voices. A young woman from Salt Lake City reported to a skeptical Forest Service ranger that she had distinctly heard a young male voice say, "Ennis, you sonofabitch!" and then a second voice respond, "Fuck you, Jack fuckin' Twist," followed by laughter. She was quite put out that the ranger did not believe her.

Then, a Chilean sheepherder had to be hospitalized in a state of near-hysterical collapse. The sheepherder had told his comrades that one night, while checking on the sheep he was pasturing on the mountain, he had come out of a stand of lodgepole pines and was startled to find two young men, apparently in their early twenties, shirtless and clad in jeans, cowboy boots, and cowboy hats, wrestling and laughing before a blazing fire. When the sheepherder called out to them, the young men, startled, separated, stared at him for a moment, and then vanished into thin air, along with all evidence of the campfire.

Federal authorities, concerned that right-wing survivalists or antigovernment militia types might be using the mountain for illegal activities, quietly investigated some of the stories, but nothing was ever found. However, perhaps the strangest tale of all was told by one Jeremy Frasier of Lander, Wyoming, a student at the University of Wyoming, who became stranded on Brokeback Mountain in a late spring snowstorm.

Of middle height, with sandy hair that covered his ears and fell into his blue eyes, Jeremy Frasier had the wiry build of a runner and track star. He loved hiking in the mountains, and he was hiking alone on Brokeback when he was overtaken by an unexpected late-season snowstorm. Lightly dressed in a denim jacket, jeans, and hiking boots, he floundered about in the swirling flakes for several hours, got off his trail, became disoriented, and finally, despairing, sat down at the edge of a clearing, his back against a tree, hugged his knees to his chest, and prepared to die. He was just drifting off into the deadly sleep of hypothermia when he was startled fully awake by someone shaking him by the shoulder. Jeremy's head jerked up, and he found himself looking into the face of a dark-haired, blue-eyed young man in a black cowboy hat and a green plaid coat. His hand still on Jeremy's shoulder, the young man looked over his own shoulder and called, "Hey, Ennis, he's awake!"

Jeremy turned his gaze in the direction the young man was looking and was surprised to find that the clearing, empty when he had dozed off, now held a blazing campfire, and at the far edge, a large canvas tent. Over the fire, a gridiron held a coffee pot, three cans of "Better Most"-brand beans, and a large skillet in which something seemed to be frying. A tight-lidded dutch oven, its lid heaped with glowing coals, sat next to the fire. A second young man, in a tan coat and light-colored cowboy hat, knelt by the fire, adding wood to the blaze. Jeremy noticed that it had stopped snowing, but snow was piled deep at the edge of the clearing. The second young man turned toward Jeremy and the man in the dark hat and replied, "Well, get him over here, Jack, 'fore he freezes his balls off."

"Come on," the young man addressed as Jack said. He helped the shivering Jeremy to his feet, led him to the fire. Jeremy noticed that both of the young men seemed to be only a year or two older than himself, at most, but they seemed, somehow, much more mature.

As Jeremy hugged himself against the cold, the second young man poured a cup of coffee, handed it to the shivering student. "I'm Ennis," he said by way of introduction, "and this here's Jack."

"Thanks!" said Jeremy, gratefully accepting the coffee. "I'm Jeremy. Frasier. Jeremy Frasier."

"Pleased to meet you, Jeremy," Ennis replied. Then, "Jack, this pore feller's freezing. We got us a extra blanket in the tent?"

Jack nodded. "I'll get it," he said. He strode across the clearing, ducked into the tent, and emerged moments later with a heavy wool blanket. As Jeremy sipped the strong coffee, feeling its warmth seep into him, Jack draped the blanket around his shoulders.

"Well, have a seat," said Ennis, indicating a log by the fire. "Food's just about ready." Jeremy did as directed, and shortly afterward accepted a can of beans and a spoon and dug in. The dutch oven held biscuits, hard as rocks but Jeremy was too hungry to care, and the skillet held a gamey-tasting meat.

"This is good," Jeremy said, chewing the meat and forgetting all his mother's admonitions not to talk with his mouth full. "What is it?"

"Elk," said Jack. "Me and Ennis shot it."

"I shot it," said Ennis. "Jack here couldn't hit a barn door if it was crawlin' up the inside of the barrel." He grinned at his buddy.

"Yeah, yeah," said Jack, in mock annoyance, "but at least I remembered to bring the whiskey."

The two young men grinned at each other in what seemed, to Jeremy, like genuine affection.

"You guys from around here?" Jeremy said between bites of elk and mouthfuls of beans.

"Not originally," Jack answered. "I'm from up by Lightnin' Flat, and Ennis, he's from over near Sage. But we like it here on ol' Brokeback. It's our favorite place. We're here all the time." He smiled at Jeremy, who noticed that Ennis seemed to shoot Jack a look at that last remark, but Jack, if he noticed it, ignored it.

Between bites of elk, Ennis said to Jeremy, "What are you doin' out here in weather like this? 'Thout even a proper coat? You'd a like to froze to death, me and Jack hadn't found you."

"Well," said Jeremy, "School ended last week, and I never imagined we'd get snow this late in the year. I like hiking in the mountains, and I thought I'd just get in one more good day hike before I start my summer job."

"School?" said Ennis.

"College," said Jeremy. "University of Wyoming."

Ennis raised an eyebrow. "Oh, college boy. Me and Jack here, we didn't even have a chance to finish high school."

Jeremy nodded his understanding, said nothing.

By the time the meal was finished, it was dark. While Ennis stoked the fire, Jack hauled a second log up close to the warm blaze. He and Ennis sat down across the fire from Jeremy, and Jack produced a bottle of whiskey from his coat. He unscrewed the lid, poured some into a tin cup, and handed it across the fire to Jeremy. "This'll keep the cold out," said Jack, winking at Jeremy. The college student grinned back at Jack, accepted the cup, and took a sip of the burning liquid. It seared his throat going down, but soon after, a delightful, warm feeling seemed to spread out from the center of his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. Jack and Ennis didn't bother with cups, just drank from the bottle, passing it back and forth between them.

As the night cold settled in, the three young men hitched themselves up closer to the fire. There was little talk, but the silence was companionable. Before long, Jeremy felt himself nodding, warmed by the fire, the food, and the whiskey.

Jack, noticing, said to Ennis, "Looks like our visitor's 'bout ready to hit the hay."

Ennis nodded agreement. "Jeremy," he said, "whyn't you go on in the tent, catch yourself forty winks?"

Yawning, Jeremy, said, "You guys sure it's okay? I don't want to put you out any more than I have already."

"Naw, you go right ahead," Jack replied. "Me and Ennis'll sit here by the fire a while yet."

"Okay, thanks," a grateful Jeremy replied. Clutching the blanket about himself, he stood up, crossed the clearing, and entered the tent. It was dark inside the tent, and warmer than outside. In moments, Jeremy's eyes adjusted, and he saw that there was a large, comfortable-looking bedroll spread out on the tent floor. Still holding the blanket around him, Jeremy lay down, crawled into the bedroll, and fell instantly asleep.

Jeremy didn't know how long he had been asleep when he was awakened by an urgent feeling in the area of his bladder, the combined result of Ennis's strong coffee and the whiskey he had drunk with his two new friends. He got up, and, putting his head outside the tent flap, noticed that Ennis and Jack were still sitting by the fire, facing the blaze, their backs toward the tent and resting against a log, two dark silhouettes against the warm, red glow. Ennis had his right arm around Jack, and Jack was resting his head against Ennis's right shoulder. As Jeremy watched, Jack took another swig from the whiskey bottle, then sat it down by his side. Jack then turned to Ennis, gently took Ennis's face into his hands, and slowly brought Ennis's mouth to his own.

Jeremy thought he heard something that sounded like a contented sigh come from Ennis, with an answering, quiet moan from Jack. He felt his face flushing. The fact that his two new friends were kissing—deeply kissing, it appeared—didn't faze him; he had gay friends at school and a cousin who was openly lesbian. Still, watching Ennis and Jack, he felt that he was intruding in a very private moment, and without looking any more, he quietly slipped out of the tent, walked around to place the canvas between him and the two men by the fire, did what nature demanded, then crept quietly back into the tent and went back to sleep.

He woke the next morning with the blanket over his head. Untangling himself from the folds of the blanket, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and jumped up as if poked with a hot iron. "What?" he said aloud, looking around in disbelief. Instead of being in the tent, he was back under the tree where he had huddled in despair the previous afternoon. The sun was shining, full and warm, and the snow of yesterday was rapidly diminishing. Looking across the clearing, he was startled to see that there was no sign of the tent, of the fire, of Jack or Ennis, or of anything, for that matter, from the previous evening.

Before he had time to ask himself what was going on, however, he heard a dog bark and the sound of voices from down the slope of the mountain: A search party, looking for him. Although Jeremy had been hiking by himself, he had at least had the good sense to tell his friends what his plans were for the day. When the unexpected late snowstorm hit the mountain, and Jeremy didn't return from his hike, his friends had alerted the Forest Service.

The rangers who found Jeremy were astounded at the good condition he was in. They listened politely to his story of being found, fed, and sheltered by two young guys, named Ennis and Jack, who were camping on the mountain but now, inexplicably, seemed to have disappeared, but, behind his back, one ranger cocked an eyebrow and the other just perceptibly shook his head. Clearly, a night alone on Brokeback Mountain in the freezing cold and snow had "done something" to the young man's mind. "Good thing you had that blanket with you," said one ranger, pointing to the blanket that Jeremy was clutching around himself, "otherwise you'd a been gone for sure." Jeremy looked at the blanket, the blanket that Jack had fetched from the tent for him, and said nothing.

The emergency room doctors who examined the hiker found absolutely nothing wrong with Jeremy Frasier, mind or body, despite his night on the mountain. Not a trace of frostbite or hypothermia—he didn't even come down with a head cold as a result of his adventure on Brokeback. No, he was fine, not a thing wrong with him, none the worse for wear.

When the story of Jeremy Frasier's night on the mountain and of his rescue from the late snow by two mysterious young cowboys began to get around, it just added to the growing lore of strange happenings on Brokeback Mountain. Most people didn't believe his tale, but Jeremy didn't really mind. After all, he had the blanket to remind him of his encounter with Ennis and Jack, whoever they were.