ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 184: Unforgettable

I need to talk to Ernie, so I do.

Ernie, was writing more important to you than Joshua or me or our life together?

Let me ask you a question, Ernestina. Would you have married me if I hadn’t been a writer?

Good question, Ernie. I never saw you as you were, did I? I saw you as The Writer. What you wrote, I loved. Who you were, I didn’t know.

Writing was crucial to me. I had to write. And when I couldn’t sell the novels I spent so much time and energy on, that hurt.

If I’d known you, the inner you, would that have helped assuage the other hurt?

I wanted more than I could get. I guess I always did. I always felt cheated.

The Death Sentence cheated you when you were a boy. You were forced to face Death way before you were ready to.

I needed to escape Death. You were one of my escapes. You didn’t think about Death. But you didn’t think about much of anything. That’s why I called you Ding-A-Ling in my Letter of Proposal.

We weren’t equals, Ernie.

Not then. Maybe now.

Thank you, Ernie.

For what?

For everything your life and your death have taught me and given me. And for the novels you wrote. You’re in me, you’re in Joshua, and you’re in your novels.

I guess you haven’t forgotten me after all, Ernestina.

Oh, Ernie, it’s impossible to forget you. You’re unforgettable.