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They meet in-country the summer Ennis turns twenty.
The long flight over is a hell of vomit and fear. Should have married Alma and had a kid, he thinks, about ten minutes into the first leg – got a deferment.
After that, he doesn’t think at all, focused solely on not shaming himself further like Jonesy from Basic, crying for his momma in a corner.
Stepping out of the C-141 into the suffocating humidity, Ennis feels like he’s been hit by a fist of heat. His hands still shake, and he fumbles for his cigarette pack, pats his pockets down for a light.
“Here.” Someone thrusts a lighter in front of him, flicks it. The rush of sweet smoke into his lungs feels like the first familiar thing in years.
He turns, nods his thanks.
“Name’s Twist. Jack Twist.”
A brown hand extends and Ennis reaches out, still shaky. “Del Mar.”
Twist’s smile is bright. “That it?”
Part of Ennis wants to refuse, curl tighter inside. After a span of time in which Twist’s eyes express only friendly interest, no malice, he says, “Ennis.”
“Well, pleased to meet you, Ennis del Mar.” Ennis nods once.
“So, where you from?” Twist’s relentless friendliness almost grates on Ennis, but he says, “Wyoming.”
Twist’s grin grows impossibly brighter. “That right? I’m from Lightning Flat, up to the border, north of Gillette?”
Ennis nods. Twist’s cigarette is hanging off his lip, and he has dirt stains on his muscled arms.
He becomes aware Twist is waiting, expectant. “Well, where’re you from?”
Ennis grinds his cigarette out on the ground. “Sage. Heard of it?”
Jack nods, stubs out his own cigarette. “So, the Army got you, huh?”
“Yup. Thought of - .” He trails off, realizing he was about to start talking about what he left behind. He tries again. “What about you?”
Twist’s grin fades. He looks off to the jungle surrounding the airstrip, says, “Thought it’d be better than the alternatives.”
Ennis understands that all too well.
“Well, see you around.” Twist walks off. His clothes are so far from regulation Ennis wonders if he’s really Army. Tight tee, sagging camo pants, hair too long by more than a few inches.
The next days pass in a blur of sweat and mosquitos.
Twist is there when the platoon assembles for the first time. Ennis is mortified when he spots the staff sergeant insignia on his sleeve. Can’t believe he talked to him so casual.
Somehow he’s not surprised to discover Twist is his squad leader. He’s good with the men, keeping it light most of the time, telling stories about girls in Bangkok and listening when guys talk about their fiancés back home. He’s smart, too, explaining about ambushes and guerilla warfare and how little girls hide weapons in their shirts. He lets them smoke Mary Jane when they’re hanging around, but never on patrol. He makes the men change their socks a lot.
Ennis doesn’t talk much, but he notices stuff. Jonesy tries to hide it, but he’s scared out of his head. Peters is on a short fuse – someone to tread lightly around. Smithy’s worried he might’ve knocked up his girlfriend back in Alabama. Chavez misses his momma and sisters bad.
He’s not sure what Twist thinks about, but sometimes when he thinks no one is looking, he stares off into the jungle with an expression in his eyes Ennis can’t figure out.
They’re dumped off by helicopter north of Saigon at a base camp. Ennis, Jonesy and Peters are on their first tours. The other guys crank them up with stories about ambushes and torture till Jack finally waves his hand, says, “That’s enough.”
They have to split into pairs for a mission one night, each new guy with someone experienced. Ennis is with Twist, and they come across a huge cache of weapons in a hidey hole in the middle of a village. They guard it, waiting for reinforcements. Twist leans his head back against the hut wall smoking. He’s wearing just a sleeveless tee on top. His neck looks vulnerable and pale, though it’s corded with muscle. Ennis looks away.
“I hate Lightning Flat,” Twist volunteers. “Fucking hate it. My daddy, too.”
Ennis grunts. “He beat you or something?”
“You could say that.” Twist rubs at his neck absently. Under his raised arm there are tufts of dark hair.
“What about you?” Twist is looking at Ennis now.
“My folks died when I was little. My sister and brother took me in for a piece.”
Twist nods sympathetically.
“I didn’t want to marry Alma. I was supposed to, but – .” He cuts himself off. He’s never said that to anybody.
The birds coming in make the hut walls shake. They stand up and get to work.
- - -
Four weeks out, Peters loses it when a gook doesn’t instantly put her hands behind her head when they raid a village. He fires before Twist can order him not to. Twist’s jaw muscle twitches. It does that sometimes when he’s upset.
Later, after they’ve secured the place, Ennis sees Twist sitting on the ground outside the village, chain-smoking. He hesitates, then walks over, sits down nearby. Twist runs the back of his sleeve over his eyes, quick.
Ennis says, “Sure ain’t like Wyoming.” They sit there smoking until after dark, driven by ravaging mosquitoes to seek their nettings.
- - -
One day Jonesy steps on a mine. Ennis holds him while they wait for Evac. Jonesy’s blood gurgles red out of his mouth and nose, and his eyes look like a horse Ennis had to put down one time. The medic works on him, shakes his head over Jonesy’s body at Ennis. He tries to think of things to say, comforts him the best he can with the voice he uses for horses, strokes awkwardly on his hair. Some of the fear goes out of Jonesy’s eyes before he dies in Ennis’s arms.
When he finally looks up, Twist is standing staring at him. He’s never seen that expression on his face before. He doesn’t know what it is.
That night, Ennis wakes up at two in the morning. He bites down hard on the sleeve of his shirt to keep from making any sound, sobs wracking his body.
Someone’s hand lands on his shoulder, and he tries to pull away. Twist whispers, “Shh.” Then he lies down next to Ennis on his pallet, pulls him into his arms, holds him till Ennis’s tears stop and he falls asleep.
In the morning, Ennis is embarrassed, avoids Twist’s eyes. Twist is whistling, though, joshing with all the guys. He doesn’t let on for a second that he even remembers what happened.
- - -
Everyone’s excited because they’re heading to Saigon for leave, though they try to keep it in check ‘cause of Jonesy.
In the city, the veterans take the rookies to their favorite places. The guys get Ennis shit-faced drunk and push him into a room with a girl in shockingly red lipstick and not much else. It feels like it did those times with Gloria, behind his brother-in-law’s barn. It feels the same as with Alma, too, though Alma’s a good girl and won’t do this. She does other stuff, though.
The second night, he doesn’t go to the back rooms. Peters says, “They’ve got boys, too, you know,” sneering, and Ennis decks him before he even thinks. He’s noticed them, some with their eyes made up, hanging on certain street corners together, flitting down halls. Their eyes look hollow.
The other guys laugh when Peters gets up off the floor and staggers off. Jackson, a hard-assed black guy from Chicago on his second tour, buys Ennis a beer, says, “Fucker was asking for it.” Ennis buys Jackson “Baby Love” and “Walk on By” on the jukebox, and Jackson buys him “Ring of Fire” and “Faded Love.” Together, they hold off the pussies who want the Beatles.
Twist doesn’t go to the back rooms either, and Ennis wonders if he did the night before. He buys Ennis a beer, too, and tells stories about bull-riding till they’re both laughing their heads off.
When they get back, they have a new mission. They’re doing surveillance in teams of two. Their assignment is watching an abandoned village that Headquarters thinks might be a staging area for the Cong.
During the day, they crouch silently in the jungle, watching through binoculars, but at night, they sleep in a shelter a few hundred yards away that they’ve made from branches and some tarps. Covered like it is with camo and then with vines, Ennis can hardly find it himself even in broad daylight.
At night, Twist’s cigarette glows orange. It feels like it wards off the danger, just a little.
Their second night, Ennis wakes to the muffled sound of Twist wringing it out under the poncho liner that serves as a blanket over here. Ennis is familiar with the sound generally. The guys in the squad do it all the time. Not like you can go off alone in the jungle, what with all the gooks running around. At first, it embarrassed the hell out of him, but now he’s used to it.
He’s never heard Twist before though, ever, and he’s never been in such tight quarters with someone doing it.
His heart speeds up. Must be embarrassment. Close quarters and all that.
When they’re not doing surveillance, they play silent games of cards and swap quiet stories about growing up. Twist rode the bulls, which he knew, and played football, which he didn’t.
Somehow Twist gets him talking about his momma, what he can remember of her. When Ennis starts feeling sad, Twist tells dirty jokes till Ennis is holding his hand over his mouth to keep from guffawing out loud.
The fourth night, Ennis wakes up to find he’s moved over in his sleep and is pressed up against Twist from behind, arm thrown over him. His dick is painfully hard. His stomach clenches with fear. He lifts his arm as slowly as he can, rolls ever so gently away, heart beating out of his chest. It takes him an hour to fall back asleep. He thinks he’s probably been too long without a woman.
The sixth night, Ennis wakes up pressed against Twist again, hard again. This time, his hand is on Twist’s boxer-clad dick. It’s hard, and Twist is rubbing ever so gently against his hand, moving the way you do when you’re asleep. Ennis’s dick hardens more against Twist’s ass. Ennis gasps, and it’s startlingly loud in the small shelter.
Twist’s body stops moving. He is completely still.
Seconds tick off, then Ennis pulls back. He feels his cheeks flame. He whispers, “Sorry.” He huddles miserably in his blanket, as far as he can get from Twist. He waits for a punch or a threat of discharge.
Twist says, “S’alright. It happens.”
Ennis thinks he’ll die of shame the next day, but Twist is the same as he always is. That night, Ennis can’t stand it any more. He waits until far past the time Twist’s breathing turns slow and even. He takes himself in hand. He stares at Twist’s blanket-shrouded body, since there isn’t anywhere else to look.
When he’s close to coming, Twist’s eyes open and look right at him. In the shelter, his eyes are dark, but Ennis knows they’re really deep sky blue. Ennis stops his hand moving – not easy, as close as he is.
Twist whispers, “I don’t mind.”
Ennis does, though, so he stops, rolls over. Sleep is a very long time coming.
The next day, he’s jittery. Twist seems distant, looking out into the jungle a lot, like he does sometimes. Ennis drops his binoculars and they make a harsh noise that probably can be heard for miles around. Twist snaps, “Be more careful.” It’s one of the few times Ennis has heard him reprimand anyone except Peters.
He looks up that afternoon from sponging off his chest and armpits to see Twist staring at him. He looks down. When he looks back up, Twist is gone.
That night, Ennis tosses and turns and can’t get to sleep. He is not thinking about Twist’s warm body lying next to him. Definitely not.
The same night, Ennis wakes up rock hard again. This time, Twist is curled up behind him. His hand is on Ennis’s cock through his briefs. In the time between waking and coming to full consciousness, Ennis arches into Twist’s hand, which curves around him radiating heat. He gasps. He’s never felt anything like it.
Twist freezes. He says, “Fuck,” into Ennis’s hair, starts to pull away.
Ennis says, “You don’t have to - ,” but he stops, because he doesn’t know what he wants to say.
Twist says after a pause, “I can’t even if you wanted. Superior officer.” He hasn’t moved completely away, though, and Ennis can barely stop himself from pushing back into his body. He probably should have gotten married. He’s the age sex is always on a guy’s mind. Must explain it.
Twist pulls away and rolls up facing away from Ennis.
Ennis has heard of that, an officer making someone do stuff. Whispers, jokes. The men despise the guy who’s done to at least as much as they do the officer.
Twist isn’t like those guys. He’d never do that. Just lonely, probably, like they all are. Like there aren’t any atheists in foxholes, like that.
The next night, Twist goes into the shelter first. Ennis stays outside for a while, thinking.
He crawls into the shelter, lies down in his blanket. Twist is curled away.
Ennis whispers, heart pounding out of his chest, “You asleep?”
After a few seconds, Twist turns over, looks at Ennis. His chest is bare of course, since it’s hot as hell and they have netting over the whole shelter. Ennis realizes suddenly that he could draw Twist’s torso - he knows every muscle and hollow. His mouth goes dry.
Twist says, carefully, “No.”
Ennis reaches out a hand. It’s shaking, but he can’t help but touch the muscles of Twist’s shoulder. Twist hisses. Ennis leaves his hand there, holds still, keeping his eyes on Twist’s troubled face.
He can tell it’s going to go against him unless he does something more, so he says, “It’s fucking Vietnam.”
Twist, improbably, smiles at Ennis. Ennis feels happy. Maybe a smile is enough.
Twist asks, “Ever done anything before?”
“Me and Gloria, couple other girls, we - . And of course, Alma, some - .” His voice is weak. Twist keeps looking at him.
“Nothing with a guy,” Ennis whispers.
Twist’s mouth gets tight, and Ennis just knows he’s going to say no. Suddenly, he’s desperate. He runs his hand from Twist’s shoulder down his arm, feeling corded muscle under hot skin. The hair on Twist’s arm feels electric under his fingers.
When he looks back up into Twist’s eyes, they’re hot and drowned.
Twist says, “Oh, fuck it,” and throws off Ennis’s blanket, finds his cock and touches it through his briefs.
Ennis’s body arches into the touch. Twist reaches to skim Ennis’s underwear off him, makes a sound when he sees Ennis’s naked body.
Ennis, shy, reaches over to Twist, pulls at his boxers. Twist’s dick feels different than his own. It feels shockingly good.
Twist’s hand on his cock forms a circle, jacks him hot and fast. His own hand stills. Everything narrows down to the feel of Twist’s hand on him. He comes so fast and so hard it’s like Fourth of July.
After a long time, he realizes Twist is leaning over him, watching his face. Ennis’s hand is still on Twist’s dick, which is so hard it must hurt. He shifts up, tries to move his hand like Twist did on him, figuring that’s maybe how he likes it.
When Twist comes, he bites a blanket between his teeth. Even so, he groans pretty loud.
In the morning, they do their jobs efficiently and quietly.
Ennis says over coffee, “It won’t happen again.” Twist just nods, looks off into the jungle.
That night, Ennis is on fire. He wants Twist more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. He goes into the shelter first, lies there a long time before Twist comes in. Ennis pushes up on an elbow, leans over Twist after he’s been there a while.
Twist looks up at Ennis. Twist’s hand on top of the blanket is shaking.
Ennis reaches for the blanket, meets Twist’s eyes. Twist nods, sharply.
He pulls the blanket down slowly and it’s like unwrapping a package. His pulse is loud in his ears. Twist is naked. When he pulls the blanket the last bit off Twist’s cock, he bites his lip.
Twist’s hand lifts up, twines in the hair behind Ennis’s head. Ennis is startled, looks down at Twist. He draws Ennis’s face down and kisses him. Nothing has ever felt like this.
Ennis collapses on top of him. Their bodies mold together. This has to be what heaven is. Twist is hot and hard and smells of sweat and mosquito repellant.
Ennis is pushing down and Twist is pushing up, one hand sliding down Ennis’s back, painting a trail of fire. It comes to rest on his ass, pulls him in tighter.
Ennis gasps, and comes. When he comes down a little, Twist is still holding him. Ennis says, “Sorry.”
Twist’s face is in his neck. He says, “S’alright. Bound to happen.”
Ennis notices Twist is still hard under him, hasn’t come. He pushes up on his elbows, says, “You now.”
Twist bites his lip, gives Ennis a look he can’t figure. “What do you want to do?” he asks. Ennis can feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks.
Ennis wants to say, same as before, what else is there besides a hand or this humping they just did? But he knows it’s not true.
He’s scared, suddenly knowing what he wants to do. “Don’t know what I’m doing, but I - .” He moves down Twist’s body.
“Wait,” Twist says. He takes the blanket and wipes Ennis’s spunk off himself. “That’ll be better.” He grins at Ennis.
Ennis remembers Alma’s attempts at this and tries to do better. Must be okay, because soon Twist is shaking again, his fists pushed hard into the tarp under them. He warns Ennis, but he doesn’t pull off when Twist shoots, arching hard up into his mouth. Ennis swallows some. He thinks of Jonesy’s blood gushing out, and is happy to swallow this fluid from Twist’s living body.
After, they lie tangled together, a sticky mess. Ennis finds himself telling Twist about Earl, and his daddy. Ennis feels the muscle in Twist’s jaw work. He says, “And you were how old?”
Ennis says, “Young.” He pauses. “Son of a bitch.”
Jack nods. “Least he didn’t piss on you.” Nothing in Jack’s voice says he is kidding.
The next day, Ennis feels like his body is buzzing. He watches Twist all day long, noticing how he already knows exactly how he moves, how the muscles run across his stomach, up his legs to his ass.
They go to bed earlier than they ever have. “I want to – you know,” he says. “I mean, if you do that.” His face is burning.
“I do that,” Twist says. “You sure? ‘Cause I’m not taking it from a virgin. Got to feel it first to know what to do.”
Ennis swallows. He hadn’t thought out who did what. He just wanted more.
He nods anyway, and Twist pulls him into his arms. His tongue goes in Ennis’s mouth and Ennis moans. He moves to his side when Twist pushes at him a little.
He doesn’t know what to expect. Twist says in his ear, jacking him slowly, “Brought some Vaseline in, in case. Don’t have anything better. I’ll stop any time you want.”
It feels weird and then good, and then incredible when he works him with his fingers. He wants more, and Twist poises on the brink, whispers hoarsely, “You sure?”
Ennis is sure.
Twist is inside him, and outside him too, mouth on his neck, warm body behind him. After a while, Twist grabs Ennis’s dick and starts to wring it. Ennis is floating in some strange type of ecstasy. Nothing has ever felt this good.
Twist is panting in his hair now, making little whining sounds. Every time he makes a sound, Ennis is one step closer to coming.
Twist hits a place inside that shoots off sparks, and he comes, spectacularly, clenching around Twist’s dick. Twist grabs Ennis’s hips and shoves into him hard, twice, and then convulses. Ennis can feel the semen flood into him and what he thinks is, “He’s alive.”
They lie like that a long time, even after Twist slips out of him. “Did I hurt you?” Twist finally asks.
Ennis almost laughs. “No.”
“Good. I don’t want to hurt you.” Twist’s voice sounds funny. Ennis’s heart pounds. He must be scared about what they’ve done, he figures, though he doesn’t feel like he’s scared.
The next night, he does it to Twist, fumbling and embarrassed at first. Twist wants to be on his back. Ennis’s heart races hard. Twist’s long, powerful legs twine around him. His strong arms stroke Ennis’s back.
Ennis, bold, leans down to steal a kiss. Twist moans around his tongue, and Ennis feels a pang in his chest.
After, Twist asks, “You like it better one way or the other?”
Ennis thinks. He doesn’t, and says so. They both feel like nothing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t say that part.
He asks, “You?”
Twist smiles. “Not with you.”
The next night, Ennis is about to come in Twist’s mouth. He says out of nowhere, “Call me Ennis.”
Twist comes off and looks up at him. His lip are shiny and a little swollen. His eyes turn warm. “Then you’ve got to call me Jack.”
Ennis doesn’t think that’d be right, but Jack says, “When it’s just us.”
Ennis nods, and Jack goes down on him again. Coming into that warm wet heat, Ennis cries out, “Jack.”
Jack crawls up to him and kisses him wildly, rubs up against him and comes against his thigh, never breaking the kiss.
The next day, they spot movement in the village. They call in a strike and are pulled out by choppers.
Back with the squad, they treat each other like before. Ennis lies awake at night, thinking of Jack’s body, how his eyes grew warm, how he smiled at Ennis.
Ennis thinks about sneaking off into the jungle. He can tell Jack does, too. They won’t risk it, though. Neither of them wants a Dishonorable or the Psych Ward. Besides, they’re busy day and night, and the jungle is dangerous. Everything is dangerous here. Charlie is everywhere.
One day they come across a village. All the houses have been burned, and the people, women and children too, are stacked like cordwood, dead from gunshots to the head. American shell casings and ration packs litter the ground.
The muscle in Jack’s jaw works. Ennis’s stomach wants to heave.
Peters laughs, “Guess these gooks got what they deserved.”
Jack is on him before anyone can react, knocks him to the ground and starts kicking him. It takes three of them to pull him off.
That night, Ennis joins Jack where he’s sitting, within sight of the squad in the jungle. He’s been chain-smoking for two hours. After a while, Ennis says, “Come on,” and walks to a place he’s found – a cave. He hears Jack’s footsteps behind him.
Ennis pulls down his pants, gets on all fours. They don’t have anything, so Jack uses spit. It hurts a little and Jack is rough, panting. Ennis is glad. Jack bites Ennis’s shoulder, hard, when he comes. Ennis follows, shooting into Jack’s hand.
Jack rolls off after a while and Ennis tries to hold him. He resists, pulling away. Ennis whispers, “Jack.” Jack doesn’t resist any more, and Ennis pulls him into his arms. Jack shakes, quiet, tears wetting Ennis’s tee.
After a long time, Jack says, “I gotta get out of this place.”
Ennis nods. “Don’t sign up for any more tours.”
Jack doesn’t, and he’s taken away by chopper to Saigon after a few weeks. He’s going back to Wyoming for a while, but wants to try somewhere else to live.
When they say goodbye the other guys are a few yards away.
Jack presses a piece of paper into Ennis’s hand. “My momma will know where I am if you want to look me up Stateside, after.” He adds, very quiet, “Maybe shack up or something.” His eyes are carefully neutral.
Ennis looks at the ground. “I’m supposed to marry Alma.”
“Okay, yeah.” Jack looks off into the jungle. “Stay safe.” He hoists his bag onto his shoulder, turns to go.
“Wait, Jack!” Ennis says. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.
Jack smiles at him. “It’s okay, Ennis. I understand.”
- - -
Ennis thinks of Jack every minute of every day.
He’s wounded one day when he throws himself in front of a kid who reminds him of Jonesy. They send him home, even though it’s only part of his foot.
Alma is kind to him. She sucks at him valiantly, smooth cheeks brushing on his thighs. He thinks of stubble and hard hands and a white smile.
Ennis tries it with a boy from his high school who’s bagging groceries at Smith’s. He wants Ennis to talk too much. He tries it with an older guy at a truck stop down the interstate. It’s better than with Alma, but neither of them feels like Jack.
After three months, he tells Alma sorry, packs a bag. Doesn’t take him long to hitch his way to Boulder.
Jack’s house is on the edge of the city. The Rockies rise up majestic, right there. There are horses grazing in a nearby field. He sort of figured Jack as heading for a bigger city, but when he opens his door and Ennis sees him for the first time, it fits. He’s got a work shirt on and cowboy boots. The shirt makes his eyes look even bluer.
He has dark circles under his eyes, and his face sags, like he hasn’t smiled in months.
Ennis suddenly worries whether Jack has someone else or doesn’t want him any more.
Jack is looking at his duffel bag.
Ennis swallows, asks, “You still - ?”
Jack smiles. His face un-sags a little. “Yeah, I still.”
Ennis smiles at him.
Jack’s smile fades. “People will talk. Say horrible things, maybe do some, too.”
Ennis nods, looks straight into Jack’s eyes. “You think after being in-country I give a fuck?”
Jack shakes his head slowly. He smiles until it almost cracks his face. “No, I don’t imagine you do.”
He stands back and motions over the threshold to Ennis. “So come on in.”
Ennis steps into the house. They hug, tightly, and then tighter still. Jack is strong and warm and – most of all – alive in his arms.
Ennis has never felt anything like this. He says so into Jack’s hair, heart pounding.
Jack pulls him even closer, whispers fiercely into his ear, “Me, neither.”
Their lips finally meet and it’s like coming home.
They kick the door shut behind them.