Title: THE OLD MAN

Author: Brokeback Mountain

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Annie Proulx.

Warning: Tissue alert.

Genre: Slash

Rating: R for mature content

THE OLD MAN

There he sits; that old man. Hunched over in his chair watching the cars go by; day after day sitting there on the porch not saying a word to anyone; not even those few who bid him Good Day. He stares past them as if they don't exist. They don't exist. Not for him.

He had a life once, a long time ago. He was married, he had babies, a wife, a lover, a job. He was young, strong and handsome. But all that's gone now. Now his life was that porch and that chair. The only change in his routine is when his daughter brings out a blanket for him in the cold weather and wraps his withered body. He stares past her. She doesn't exist either.

The doctors say they don't know what's wrong with him; their tests show nothing. He just simply is dying, a little bit more each day. None of their tests can answer why he doesn't speak or why he can't walk or what is wrong with his hearing; sometimes he can hear things, sometimes he can't. Nothing can explain why tears run in a steady stream down his face. His daughter comes out and wipes them from time to time but she's busy with four little ones of her own.

The children mostly stay away from him now. He doesn't seem to even notice when they climb on his lap or put their little arms around his neck. Their grandpa is there but he is not.

Some days are just a blur now and some days he can see him clearly; sitting there on his horse as they ride side by side through the thick woods. He can even hear him talk some days, with that low Texas drawl that he developed over the years. No moustache though; he never sees him with a moustache.

Some days they ride through the high meadows with the sheep milling around and sometimes he sees him at night beside the crackling fire. Always he's looking at him, smiling, blue eyes dancing with mischief or with a flirty smile. He always did have a smirky kind of smile.

She's taking him inside now. She'll put him to bed and tuck him in just like he used to do her and her sister. She'll sit beside him on the bed and sing him a little song then wipe his tear-stained face one last time. She'll kiss him good night on his cheek and tell him she loves him. He won't hear it though. He'll lie there in his little room that's not really a room at all but a small area partitioned off from the dining room.

He's staying in base camp tonight; too late to go up to them sheep. He'll cuddle in the warmth of his lover's arms and rest his head against a blue denim shoulder. He'll sleep the sleep of the innocent with the scent of pine trees, horses, canvas and his lover's body next to him.

This night is perfect. He can see Jack so clearly tonight; hear him jabbering on about inflation. They put the cooking utensils and remnants of their dinner away and stand together wrapped around each other watching the moon over the water. Tonight is their night. Jack's whispering to him, nuzzling the hair behind his ear. "Glad you're here Cowboy. I missed you."

Nobody even noticed the old man was gone; his wheel chair was empty; he's gone home.

The End

Inspired by Joey's haiku 8/17/07

hit and miss, you missed
high and dry seemed the forecast

win or lose, we lost