ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 249: Summer Sounds

On an evening stroll, I’m stopped by police cars blocking a nearby street to accommodate a Zombie Walk, this city’s late August prequel to Halloween.

Zombies in black t-shirts and trousers, their faces painted white and lined with red, march up and down the street while spectators sit on the curb or in portable chairs to watch this bizarre parade. Here comes Colonel Sanders, blood streaking his white suit. There goes Frankenstein’s bride in long black dress and trailing a black veil.

I am not one of the walking dead. Not anymore.

I turn around and head east, toward the park, passing under trees where cicadas sing. Their song is loud — like castanets clicking, like cockleshells tumbling. It thrills me. The sky’s blue deepens, and now crickets begin their two-step sound, their chirp: crick-et, crick-et.

Night comes down in earnest, and the cicadas grow quiet. Perhaps their calls have been answered, and they’re busy mating.

Now the chirp of crickets is the only summer sound I hear.