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31_days2007-02-07 12:47 am
rhye.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-02-07 12:47 am
[February 7] [Brokeback Mountain] Once Upon a Time - 7
Title: Once Upon a Time - 7
Day/Theme: February 7th/The White Lady
Series: Brokeback Mountain
Character/Pairing: Jack Twist/Ennis del Mar
Rating: R
Chapter 7
She had a stilted voice, as if she weren't used to using it, and a frail countenance. Ruth worried over her pale, silent frame. She was wearing a white night gown, too thin a cotton to provide any protection from the shrill autumn coming on, but she was wrapped in a worn hunting flannel over that. Ruth gathered her in motherly arms and brought her inside at once.
Rushing her straight to bed, Ruth made a broth and brought it to the shivering doe, not more than a child by her estimation.
"Thank you ma'am." She'd found her voice at last.
"I see you're feelin' better then. That's good. Don't suppose you have a name?"
"Grey, ma'am."
"Oh, that's an unusual name." Ruth pursed her lips and wondered how far she could go, before charging ahead. "Don't guess you want to tell me how you ended up wanderin' out here. We are not near any town." Ruth's words were careful, picked over from years of biding her tongue.
"I... I dunno, ma'am. I'm awful tired. Think maybe I could sleep?"
Ruth stood and nodded, walking towards the door. She turned at the entrance, feeling strange at the sight of a girl in that bed, knowing somehow that wasn't meant to be.
"This is my son Jack's room. He's grown now. You're welcome to use it for as long as you need. Maybe soon you will remember more and we can find your family."
"Thank you, ma'am." Grey was lacking in life, like maybe she'd never known the meaning of living.
John came in, and Ruth told him about the odd being sleeping in Jack's room. John snorted, made some snide remark about girls in Jack's bed, not different from what Ruth had thought, except that it was meant differently, meant to poke fun. Ruth bit her tongue for the millionth time in what felt like as many years.
The two of them retired under cold blankets.
Only one of them awoke. Ruth didn't shed that many tears, calling into town for the funeral home with the mechanical certainty of a woman used to the shadowy circle of life and death.
She went to rouse the house-guest, only to find Jack's bed unused, the room as empty as it'd been these many years. Whether Grey had really been or not, Ruth couldn't say. The broth mug was clean and replaced in the cupboard. The only other person to have known of her existence was no longer here to bear witness.
When the funeral director had come and gone, the lonely silence settled like a layer of deep snow, bathing in purity a life lived in gray. Ruth sat down at the kitchen table with the beige rotary phone and willed her hand to stop its shaking. Feeling torn between fear and excitement, she set out on whatever chase was needed to bring her little boy back home at last.
Day/Theme: February 7th/The White Lady
Series: Brokeback Mountain
Character/Pairing: Jack Twist/Ennis del Mar
Rating: R
Chapter 7
She had a stilted voice, as if she weren't used to using it, and a frail countenance. Ruth worried over her pale, silent frame. She was wearing a white night gown, too thin a cotton to provide any protection from the shrill autumn coming on, but she was wrapped in a worn hunting flannel over that. Ruth gathered her in motherly arms and brought her inside at once.
Rushing her straight to bed, Ruth made a broth and brought it to the shivering doe, not more than a child by her estimation.
"Thank you ma'am." She'd found her voice at last.
"I see you're feelin' better then. That's good. Don't suppose you have a name?"
"Grey, ma'am."
"Oh, that's an unusual name." Ruth pursed her lips and wondered how far she could go, before charging ahead. "Don't guess you want to tell me how you ended up wanderin' out here. We are not near any town." Ruth's words were careful, picked over from years of biding her tongue.
"I... I dunno, ma'am. I'm awful tired. Think maybe I could sleep?"
Ruth stood and nodded, walking towards the door. She turned at the entrance, feeling strange at the sight of a girl in that bed, knowing somehow that wasn't meant to be.
"This is my son Jack's room. He's grown now. You're welcome to use it for as long as you need. Maybe soon you will remember more and we can find your family."
"Thank you, ma'am." Grey was lacking in life, like maybe she'd never known the meaning of living.
John came in, and Ruth told him about the odd being sleeping in Jack's room. John snorted, made some snide remark about girls in Jack's bed, not different from what Ruth had thought, except that it was meant differently, meant to poke fun. Ruth bit her tongue for the millionth time in what felt like as many years.
The two of them retired under cold blankets.
Only one of them awoke. Ruth didn't shed that many tears, calling into town for the funeral home with the mechanical certainty of a woman used to the shadowy circle of life and death.
She went to rouse the house-guest, only to find Jack's bed unused, the room as empty as it'd been these many years. Whether Grey had really been or not, Ruth couldn't say. The broth mug was clean and replaced in the cupboard. The only other person to have known of her existence was no longer here to bear witness.
When the funeral director had come and gone, the lonely silence settled like a layer of deep snow, bathing in purity a life lived in gray. Ruth sat down at the kitchen table with the beige rotary phone and willed her hand to stop its shaking. Feeling torn between fear and excitement, she set out on whatever chase was needed to bring her little boy back home at last.