The wind through the crevices of the old trailer sounded like the mournful, drawn out notes of a train whistle in the distance. Or a battered old harmonica played with more enthusiasm than skill. Ennis cocked his head, shifting his weight on the frayed straps of the ancient folding chair, raising the bottle to his lips. The cheap whiskey went down his throat like lava, but it warmed him a little on the inside, where he needed it most, the dark gold liquid dampening reality and fueling the time machine. He watched the pumpkin sun balance on the spikes of the far off range and fall behind them leaving the world in that peculiar half-light where the air looks grainy and anything white glows like an afterimage. The toe of his boot brushed the plastic bucket half filled with penny candy, though it cost more than a penny these days, and he knew no kids were likely to come trick or treatin' this far outside of town. He did it for the same reason that he did most things: because that's the way it had always been done.

Lighting a hand-rolled cigarette, Ennis blew smoke at the lacey moon, his eyes tracing the outline of the rabbit that Jack would always point out and Ennis would always pretend not to see. "Rabbit in the moon? Who ever heard a such a thing?" he'd say, glancing sidewise at Jack to gauge his friend's reaction to the deadpan teasing. "Ever'body knows it's a man in the moon. Even little kids."

"Never said I was no big thinker."

Ennis pulled the brim of his old hat lower over his eyes. The whiskey and the smoke and the bone deep weariness were working their dull magic a little faster than usual tonight. Jack had come visiting and just as full of piss and vinegar as ever. Ennis didn't dwell too hard on Jack's presence, afraid he'd break the tenuous threads that drew the wayward spirit to stand at his shoulder and watch with him as night descended on the plains. It was kind of like being in church, a hushed and holy feeling, quelling unruly impulses, a settling, a satisfaction in just being still. Any moment, Ennis might take a drink, a drag on his smoke, or a piss, but not yet, not while he was balanced as finely as the moon had been a few minutes earlier, half in the real world and half in dreams.

"Man could die a thirst 'fore anybody'd offer 'im a drink."

Ennis lifted the bottle in salute and took a long swallow. "Here's t' you, Jack fuckin' Twist."

"Ain't this a hoot? Ennis Del Mar settin' in the middle a nowhere toastin' a dead man. Ya don't change, do ya?"

"Whut would be the point now? I done lost ya for good."

"Don't ya think we might meet up again? After you pass over?"

"I don't believe in Heaven no more."

"Then where in Hell do ya think I came from?"

Ennis felt a cool feather of air brush his cheek and with it came the scent that had filled his nostrils at the happiest moments of his life. The corners of his mouth turned up in a slow smile as he sank lower in the chair. This was turning out to be one of the really good Jack dreams where he could feel the constant wind of the mountain and the warmth of his friend against his chest as he held him in a never-ending embrace, half awake, half asleep, content, complete, needing for nothing. "Sure do miss ya, bud," he mumbled against the cold glass neck of the bottle.

"I'm right here, dumbass."

Ennis looked up at the stars and the butt fell from his fingers to the gravel. Maybe Junior was right and he had been living by himself for too long. When a man started seein' things, it was time to think long and hard about whether or not he might be crazy.

"You ain't crazy, boy," Jack said. "You're drunk and you're tired, but you ain't crazy."

"Then how come I'm talkin' to somebody that ain't even here?"

"I'm here all right."

"They just let ya out a Heaven t' come visit? Whut took ya so long?"

"You still think I'm some kind a hallucination, don't ya?" Jack leaned over and grabbed a fistful of Ennis's jacket, hauling him to his feet. "How 'bout now?"

Ennis swayed a little but didn't lose his grip on the bottle. "Whut the hell?" he breathed, feeling abruptly sober. Jack reached out to touch Ennis's cheek and Ennis shied back.

"Ain't nobody here t' see us," Jack said. "Just the way ya like it."

For the first time Ennis heard the weary rasp of sadness in his friend's voice, or maybe he'd heard it all along but didn't know what he could do about it. His inability to give Jack what he needed, what he deserved, shamed Ennis on a level so deep he wasn't aware of what made him feel so uncomfortable when Jack talked about how lonely he was, how much he wanted Ennis, how much he missed him. It struck at the very core of Ennis that he couldn't take care of what he loved and so he ignored it, pretended that it wasn't real, wasn't love, just something he didn't understand that possessed him from time to time. He pushed it into the corner of his mind with Earl's corpse and closed the door on it as many times as it took to make it stay shut. And shut it was. For all time. Jack was gone beyond recall and would never hear what Ennis needed to say.

"Go on and say it," Jack said. "I'm lissenin'."

"What are ya? Some kind a ghost?"

Jack sighed. "Least ya don't think I come out a that bottle like some kind a genie. Ya drink too much, ya know. Just like I did. Ain't gonna help ya anymore than it did me."

"Helps me forgit."

"That what ya want? Ya wanna forgit me? If that the case, I'll go."

"Wait." The word left Ennis's mouth like he'd been punched in the gut. "If I ain't crazy, or drunker'n a skunk, whut're ya doin' here?"

"I don't know how it works," Jack said. "Don't seem to me like any time passed since I crossed over, but I'm lookin' at you and thinkin' it's been a couple a years."

"A few."

"Miss me any?"

The fissures of Ennis's broken heart expanded suddenly, cracking his stoic façade. His knees buckled and he pitched forward as the bottle hit the gravel with a clink and a gurgle. He expected to feel the sharp rocks tearing the skin of his palms, but strong arms bore him up and set him on his feet again. Tears seeped from his tightly closed eyes as he let his friend support him. This was what he longed for with all his soul, the thing he hadn't known he needed until it was taken away, this was the one that loved him no matter what. And Ennis wept for all the times he'd hurt Jack, for all the opportunities lost, his regret welling up until it overflowed as bitter tears. He wept as he had wept almost every day and every night since hearing that Jack was gone, angry, bereft and despairing tears that didn't wash away one speck of guilt or lower the level of the sea of sorrow he was adrift upon.

But this time, he was not alone. Jack held him as he cried like an abandoned child, held him close and safe, stroked his hair and murmured soothing words. "It's all right. It's all right."

"It ain't all right," Ennis choked out. "I fucked it all up."

"We both did, bud. We was too scared a losin' what we had to risk it reachin' for more."

"I'm sorry," Ennis croaked. "I'm old and used up and sorrier than a broke-dick dog."

"Why don't ya tell me what you're sorry for?"

"Told ya once that I never should a let ya go after that summer up on Brokeback. But I did let ya go. I let ya drive away with a see ya 'round like you wasn't no more'n some guy I cowboyed with. Run off and married Alma. Messed up her life purty good too. And the girls. I ain't no good to nobody."

"But ya are sorry."

"Sorrier'n any man that ever lived. Once I found them shirts…" Ennis's words trailed off, falling into a gulf of grief so deep they never hit bottom.

"You went to see my folks?"

Ennis lifted his face from Jack's shoulder. "Ya don't know?"

"How would I know? I'm dead, remember?"

"Thought maybe ya sat around up in Heaven watchin' folks down here."

Jack gave his friend a dubious look. "It ain't like that. Ain't no way I can explain what it's like, but once ya leave your body behind things are a lot different."

"I ain't complainin', but whut're ya doin' here then?"

"Somethin' changed," Jack let of Ennis and stepped back. "Let's have a talk."

Ennis was done being shocked by Jack's appearance and he sure as hell wasn't scared of no ghost. "Come on in then."

Jack looked around at the sparsely furnished place. One bed. One chair. One coffee cup on the peeling Formica counter. And through the half open door of the closet, two shirts, one inside the other, Ennis's hung over his like protective wrapping. "Aw Ennis, I swear!" he said as he turned watering eyes to the man. "Ain't that just like you? You always did talk better without words and… Ya know I love ya. Always did."

"I know," Ennis said, squeezing the words out his constricted throat. "Wish I'd a had the guts t' tell ya while ya had ears to hear me." Jack put his hands on his hips and looked at Ennis from under the brim of his black hat. Ennis stared back for a long moment before he got it. "But I can tell ya now. I went up t' Lightnin' Flats t' see about gittin' your ashes and your mama let me go up t' your room. I was already purty busted up 'bout you dyin', and when I seen them shirts, it hit me like a kick in the head from a Brahma bull. I knew then exactly what I'd lost and it damn near put me on my knees. All them years, Jack. All them years wasted 'cause a my stubbornness. If I could have 'em back… I swear I'd do it different. I'd git in that truck with ya and write Alma a letter from wherever we ended up. I'd tell ya every day how much ya meant to me. I'd lasso ya good and tight so's ya couldn't never git away from me again. All I ever wanted was somebody t' love me just as I am, never seein' that I had ya all along. Not 'til it was too late."

"Reckon that's about the most words ya ever said at one clip, but ya still ain't said the ones I need t' hear."

Ennis took off his hat and held it in front of his chest. "I love ya, Jack," he said. "I always did and reckon I will 'til the day I die. And maybe even after that, if God has any mercy."

"So ya believe in Heaven now?"

"Ain't I lookin' at the proof?"

"You surely are somethin', Ennis Del Mar. I could prob'ly parade a whole army a angels through here and all you'd do is complain about havin' to sweep up the feathers. Ain't there nuthin' that can rattle you?"

Ennis's half smile returned. "Nuthin' but you, Jack fuckin' Twist."

"Well let's try this," Jack said. "I come here tonight 'cause I gotta make a choice. I can give up all my memories a this life and git reborn as a little baby, or I can go back to the moment in between and wait for ya."

"Made up your mind yet?"

"You sumbitch," Jack said. "Cain't ya ask no nicer than that?"

Ennis sucked his teeth for a minute before it occurred to him what this was all about; he was going to have to bend a little. "All right then, will ya wait for me?"

"Forever and a day," Jack said. "Reckon some old dogs can learn new tricks after all."

"Now whut?"

"Now I say so long for a while and see ya later."

"Don't know if I can stand losin' ya twice."

"Well, they do say that if ya cain't fix it, ya got to stand it. I know ya ain't gonna do nuthin' foolish like settin' in your truck with a hose comin' in the windah from the tailpipe. I know ya got what it takes to live out your years like a man."

"Now I know that you'll be waitin', I reckon I'll git by."

"Maybe now you've had your little preview, ya can stop bein' so ornery all the time. I ain't the only that loves ya, ya know."

Ennis pictured Junior's face, telling him she was getting hitched, and how the shine had gone out of her eyes when he told her he was too busy to go to the wedding, the same way the light had faded from Jack's eyes over the years. And he saw that he was not through bending, that he would have years yet in which to compromise, to say yes instead of no, to give of himself instead of withholding. He would learn that rather than diminishing him, sharing added to the small store of affection he doled out so seldom and so sparingly. He would live for others, ending his self-imposed exile, and when he died in his bed in the spare room of Junior's new house, surrounded by his family, he flew up on wings of love, his soul soaring the warm winds of eternity with its mate. But that was the future…

"I'll try," Ennis said to Jack Twist's ghost.

"That's all any of us can do," Jack replied. "Wish I'd tried harder myself, maybe…"

Ennis shook his head. "No more dwellin' on the past," he said firmly.

Jack nodded and held out his hand. Ennis took it and pulled Jack into a fierce and tender embrace that would have to last for a long time. Pressing his cheek to Jack's, he spoke in his ear. "Come and visit me any time, li'l darlin'."

"In your dreams," Jack answered, and faded like the stars at dawn.

Ennis stood there a long time, hoping Jack would come back, but the visitation was over. If tears could build a ladder, Ennis reckoned he'd be able to climb up to Heaven, but it wasn't going to be that easy to earn his way back to grace. Glancing at his watch, Ennis went inside to call Junior.