JACK
Fuck Aguirre.
ENNIS
(frustrated, making a point)
Fuck Aguirre? What if we need to work for him again? We gotta stick this out, Jack.
JACK doesn’t respond. Leans down, examines the paint brand again, drags it to where it belongs.
ENNIS resumes the weary task of separating out the rest of their herd.
EXT: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, WYOMING: LATE AFTERNOON: 1963:
JACK and ENNIS’S herd of sheep, reconstituted as best they can, moves along the high treeless slope of Brokeback Mountain, kept in order and in motion by the dogs.
JACK, in a better mood now, is doodling on his harmonica.
ENNIS
(tolerant, smiles)
You’ll run the sheep off again if you don’t quiet down.
JACK keeps playing.
EXT: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, WYOMING: EARLY MORNING: 1963:
ENNIS crawls out of the pup tent, shivering.
A foot of snow covers an extraordinarily beautiful plain.
Stumbles around outside the tent, trying to warm himself.
EXT: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, WYOMING: MAIN CAMP: DAY: 1963:
ENNIS lopes into camp on horseback. There are only a few patches of snow left here and there.
JACK is busily packing gear.
ENNIS
What you doin’?
JACK
Aguirre came by again. Says my uncle didn’t die after all.
(pause)
Says bring ’em down.
ENNIS (not sure he’s heard right)
Bring ’em down? Why, it’s the middle of August.
JACK Says there’s another storm comin’, movin’ in from the Pacific.
(MORE)
JACK (CONT’D)
(pause)
Worse than this one.
ENNIS dismounts.
ENNIS
(grim)
That snow barely stuck an hour. Besides, the sonofabitch is cutting us out of a whole month’s pay. It ain’t right!
A beat.
JACK
I can spare a loan, bud, if you’re short on cash…give it to you when we get to Signal.…
ENNIS frowns.
ENNIS
I don’t need your money, I ain’t in the .poorhouse.
JACK
All right.…
ENNIS curses under his breath.
EXT: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, WYOMING: CAMP: MORNING: 1963:
Their tent is struck, camp gear piled high: they have packed to leave.
JACK is tightening his saddle. Looks up.
ENNIS sits up on a hill, alone.
JACK takes his lariat, heads up the hill towards ENNIS.
JACK
Time to get goin’, cowboy.
JACK starts horsing around with his lariat rope, pretends he’s trying to heel ENNIS by throwing a loop at his feet—nearly trips him.
ENNIS
Hey now, this ain’t no rodeo.
JACK retrieves his lariat, but throws another loop—this time, he gets ENNIS by the foot, pulls ENNIS’S foot out from under him. He falls.
JACK laughs.
ENNIS grabs the rope and yanks hard—JACK is pulled towards ENNIS and falls, and they start to wrestle. ENNIS is only half-playing—tense.
JACK is not quite fighting, either, but the mood quickly darkens, when ENNIS slips, trying to avoid a hold, and JACK accidentally knees him in the nose. Blood pours, getting on both of them. ENNIS jumps to his feet. JACK immediately gets up, tries to stanch the blood coming from ENNIS’S nose with his own shirt sleeve, and ENNIS reflexively cold-cocks him hard in the jaw, causing JACK to stagger back and fall on his ass.
JACK looks up at ENNIS, rubbing his jaw, too stunned to say anything.
ENNIS looks down at him, wiping his bloody nose on his denim sleeve, furious and despairing all at once, more emotion stirring in him than he can handle.
Staggers off.
EXT: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, WYOMING: PLAINS: DAY: 1963:
They trail the sheep down the long slope, towards the trees and the waiting trucks.
ENNIS feels like he’s in a slow-motion, headlong, irreversible fall.
The boys ride together, side by side, each too full of feeling to speak.
EXT: SIGNAL, WYOMING: SHEEP PENS: DAY: 1963:
JOE AGUIRRE, stern and not pleased, looks over the milling sheep.
The boys lean against the fence.
JOE AGUIRRE
(comes over)
Some of these never went up there with you.
(pause, hard look)
The count ain’t what I’d hoped for, neither. You ranch stiffs ain’t never no good. …
The boys shift uncomfortably.
No response.
EXT: SIGNAL, WYOMING: STREET: DAY: 1963:
Relentless wind.
JACK is in the cab of his old pickup, grinding the ignition.
ENNIS is under the hood, fiddling with the carburetor.
ENNIS
Give it some gas.
Pickup sputters.
ENNIS continues.
JACK grits his teeth…pickup starts. ENNIS closes the hood.
JACK revs the engine a few times, then puts it in neutral and pulls on the emergency brake. Steps out of the cab. Big bruise coming up on his jaw from where ENNIS punched him.
ENNIS rifles through a flour sack with his clothes and few goods.
ENNIS (CONT’D)
(to himself)
…can’t believe I left my damn shirt up there.…
A beat.
A dust plume rises and hazes the air with fine grit.
JACK
(squints, nervous)
You gonna do this again next summer?
ENNIS
(stops looking through the bag)
Maybe not.
(pause)
Like I said, Alma and me’s gettin’ married in November. Be tryin’ to get somethin’ on a ranch I guess.
(pause)
You?
JACK
Might go up to my daddy’s place, give him a hand through the winter,
(shrug)
(MORE)
JACK (CONT’D) Or I might come back.…
(tries for a weak smile)
… if the army don’t get me.
The wind tumbles an empty feed bag down the street until it fetches up under JACK’S truck.
ENNIS
Well, see you around, I guess.
JACK
Right.
ENNIS turns to go.
JACK gets in his pickup, adjusts the rearview mirror.
Drives away.
WE SEE JACK look back at ENNIS thru his rearview mirror.
ENNIS puts his hands in his pockets, watches him go. Stands there in the wind. JACK’S pickup is soon out of sight.
He starts down the street, but before he can get a half a block, JACK’S leaving proves too much: he feels like someone’s pulling his guts out, hand over hand, a yard at a time.
He stumbles into an alley, drops to his knees. Kneels there, silent, as pain, longing, loneliness, overpower ENNIS—emotions stronger than he’s ever felt for another person consume him: he feels as bad and confused as he ever has in his life. Conflicted he is angry at himself, for all that has happened, and for all that he is feeling. Punches the wall, bloodying both his knuckles.
A COWBOY passes the alley. Pauses, looks at ENNIS.
ENNIS glares at him.
ENNIS
(growls)
What the fuck you lookin’ at?
The COWBOY moves on.
INT: RIVERTON, WYOMING: CHURCH: DAY: 1963:
ENNIS and ALMA—small woman, pretty, sweet-looking, young, happy on her wedding day—at the altar in a little pine box of a church.
A FEW COWBOYS, ENNIS’S RAW-BONED SISTER and BROTHER, ALMA’S LITTLE PARENTS and LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.
ENNIS in a new jacket and a bolo tie, nervously adjusts his collar.
ALMA in
a J. C. Penney’s wedding dress, happy.
The MINISTER wears a plaid sport jacket.
CONGREGATION
…and forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory, forever.
ALMA
Amen.
JOLLY MINISTER
…under the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife…you may kiss the bride… (wink, smile)
…and if you don’t, I will.…
EVERYONE titters. ENNIS and ALMA, both nervous and shy, smile, kiss one another.
EXT: WYOMING: HILL: WINTER: DAY: 1964:
ENNIS and ALMA are in a toboggan, about to slide down the hill.
They start down, ALMA squeals in delight; ENNIS whoops it up.
At the bottom, the toboggan turns over. ENNIS stands.
ENNIS
You all right?
ALMA takes his hand. Pulls him down into the snow.
Very young, they laugh, throw snow on each other.
EXT: WYOMING: HIGHWAY: SPRING: DAY: 1964:
ENNIS, in a dozer cap, shovels asphalt behind an asphalt dumper. Sweat blooms from his T-shirt collar. Sagebrush tall along the highway, swaying in the hot wind.
ENNIS’S co-worker, TIMMY, a fat, bespectacled, annoyingly loquacious middle-aged man with a bad case of plumber’s butt, works alongside him.
Talks incessantly.
TIMMY
My old lady’s tryin’ to get me to quit this job, says I’m gettin’ too old to be breakin’ my back shoveling asphalt.
(self-deprecating)
I told her strong backs and weak minds run in my family. Didn’t think that was too funny.
(laughs)
I told her keeps me fit.
ENNIS, impassive, spits, wipes the sweat from his brow.
Continues to shovel.
EXT: RIVERTON, WYOMING: DRIVE-IN: NIGHT: 1964:
WE SEE ENNIS and ALMA at the drive-in. Eating popcorn.
“SURF PARTY” is on the movie screen.
ALMA has her head on ENNIS’S shoulder. ENNIS has his arm around her.
She cuddles in closer.
She’s pregnant, just showing. Feels the baby move. Takes his hand. Places it on her tummy.
EXT: SIGNAL, WYOMING: EARLY SUMMER: DAY: 1964:
JACK drives through town in his truck, which rattles and sputters louder than ever.
Eyes the sidewalks and dilapidated storefronts, as if looking for someone: ENNIS.
JACK parks in the dirt lot of the FARM AND RANCH EMPLOYMENT trailer, dust and fine gravel pelting his truck’s windows like hail.
INT: SIGNAL, WYOMING: TRAILER HOUSE: DAY: 1964:
JOE AGUIRRE sits with his feet on his desk, flipping through a newspaper, chewing on a toothpick. A cigarette smolders in the ashtray. Hears a knock.
JOE AGUIRRE
Yeah?
JACK enters the trailer, the door slams behind him.
AGUIRRE looks up, annoyed.
JOE AGUIRRE (CONT’D)
(continues reading the newspaper)
Well, look what the wind blew in.
JACK
Howdy, Mr. Aguirre.
(uncomfortable beat)
Wonderin’ if you was needin’ any help this summer?
JOE AGUIRRE
Wastin’ your time here.
JACK
You ain’t got nothin’?
AGUIRRE doesn’t look up.
JACK (CONT’D)
Nothin’ up on Brokeback?
JOE AGUIRRE
(looks up from the paper)
I ain’t got no work for you.
AGUIRRE stares coolly at JACK. No nonsense.
An awkward moment: JACK fingers the brim of the hat in his hand, looks as if he wants to say something more. Starts for the door. Pauses, turns back to AGUIRRE.
JACK
Ennis Del Mar ain’t been around, has he?
AGUIRRE glares at him even harder. The wind hits the trailer like a load of dirt coming off a dump truck, eases, dies, leaves a temporary silence.
JOE AGUIRRE
You boys sure found a way to make the time pass up there.
JACK gives him a look, then sees the big binoculars hanging on a nail on the wall behind AGUIRRE’S head.
JOE AGUIRRE (CONT’D)
Twist, you guys wasn’t gettin’ paid to leave the dogs baby-sit the sheep while you stemmed the rose.
(pause—looks hard at JACK)
Get the hell out of my trailer.
EXT: SIGNAL, WYOMING: TRAILER HOUSE: DAY: CONTINUOUS: 1964:
JACK steps out of the trailer. The door slams shut behind him.
EXT: WYOMING: DEL MAR RANCH HOUSE: DAY: 1966:
Shot of a little line cabin on a vast, high plains ranch. The little house is so alone it looks as if it sits at the edge of the world. Windy, bitter cold.
ALMA takes laundry off the clothesline. Sees ENNIS’S pickup, pulling a horse trailer, approach—it is a dot on a long, long road.
ALMA looks lonely, pretty, though dowdily dressed.
INT: WYOMING: DEL MAR RANCH HOUSE: KITCHEN: DAY: 1966:
ALMA stands at the kitchen sink, washing clothes on a washboard. WE HEAR the radio, and babies crying.
ENNIS comes in.
ENNIS
How my girls doin’?
ALMA JR.
All right. Jenny’s still got a runny nose.
ENNIS heads towards the back of the house.
INT: WYOMING: DEL MAR RANCH HOUSE: CHILDREN’S BEDROOM: DAY: 1966:
ENNIS walks over to the bassinet where baby JENNY is wheezing, coughing, crying.
He picks up JENNY and cradles her.
Two-year-old ALMA JR., runny nose, gets out of her little bed and toddles over to her daddy, cries, hugs his leg as he rocks JENNY.
ALMA yells from the kitchen.
ALMA
Could you wipe Alma Jr.’s nose?
ENNIS
If I had three hands I could.…
Cradles the baby, talks to her, soothes her.
Pats ALMA JR., tries to soothe her, too.
INT: WYOMING: DEL MAR RANCH HOUSE: BEDROOM: NIGHT: 1966:
ALMA, cute and at her most seductive, comes and sits behind ENNIS, wraps her skinny arms around him.
ALMA
Girls all right?
ENNIS
(nods)
Jenny stopped her coughin’. I should take the girls into town this weekend. Get ’em an ice cream.
ALMA
Ennis, can’t we move to town?
(pause—studies him)
I’m tired of these lonesome old ranches. There’s no one for Alma Jr. to play with, and besides, I’m scairt for Jenny, scared if she has one of them bad asthma spells.
ENNIS
Rents in town are too high.
ALMA
There’s a cheap place in Riverton, over the laundrymat. I bet I could fix it up real nice.
ENNIS
Bet you could fix this place up real nice if you’d want to.
ALMA
Ennis, I know you’d like it too. A real home. Other kids for the girls to play with. Not so lonely, like you were raised. You don’t want it so lonely, do you?
ENNIS touches her breast, then moves his hand downward.
ENNIS
This ain’t too lonely, now, is it?
Hugs him hard, as she becomes excited. Begins to squirm against his hand.
ALMA
You sure the girls are asleep?
ENNIS
I’m sure.
ENNIS is on top of her now. They kiss. She moves under him.
Then ENNIS rolls her over on her stomach.
ALMA
…Ennis.…
He positions himself behind her.
EXT: TEXAS: SMALL TOWN ARENA: SUMMER NIGHT: 1966:
ANNOUNCER
Let ’em rip and snort, boys! This one’11 be quick. Jack Twis
t, hangin’ on for dear life!
JACK rides out of the chute.
Comes flying off a Brahma bull.
ANNOUNCER (CONT’D)
Oh, and down he goes!
Hits hard.
The bull, angry, slobbering, is right on top of him.
ANNOUNCER (CONT’D)
Whoa, watch out there, fella! He’s comin’ for ya! Send in the clowns! A fine ride for Mr. Twist. Four seconds for him.
JACK rolls, gets up—then the RODEO CLOWN comes jumping in at the last second, distracts the bull, leads him safely past JACK.
ANNOUNCER (CONT’D)
Give ’em a hand, folks, our very own rodeo clowns!
The bull nearly tramples one of the RODEO CLOWNS.
INT: TEXAS: BAR: SUMMER NIGHT (LATER): 1966:
The RODEO CLOWN, a young man with something of the college athlete about him, has wiped off most of his clown makeup. Has just ordered a beer.
JACK, at the bar—watches him.
As the BARTENDER is about to bring the CLOWN his beer, JACK limps over and hands the BARTENDER some bills.
The CLOWN look surprised.
JACK
(to bartender)
Like to buy Jimbo a beer. Best rodeo clown I ever worked with.
JACK stands close to his shoulder.
JIMBO
(firmly)
No thanks, cowboy. If I was to let every rodeo hand I pulled a bull off of buy me liquor I’d been an alcoholic long ago…
There is something, a frisson, a vibe, that gives the CLOWN an uneasy feeling…although he remains perfectly friendly…takes his beer, stands up.
JIMBO (CONT’D)
Pulling bulls off you buckaroos is just my job. Save your money for your next entry fee, cowboy.
Watches JIMBO walk over, sit down with a table full of calf-ropers, all of them wearing piggin strings over their shoulders like bandoliers.
BARTENDER
(seen it all)
Ever try calf-roping?
JACK
(nervous)
Do I look like I could afford a fuckin’ ropin’ horse?
JACK slams down the rest of his beer. Looks around anxiously. Puts a ten on the bar. Leaves.
EXT: RIVERTON, WYOMING: PARK: FOURTH OF JULY: NIGHT: 1966:
WE SEE the little Del Mar family ease through the 4th of July crowd, trying to find a place to sit.