ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: The Writer, His Wife, and their Afterlife

Book One, Part Two, Chapter 167: I’ll Be There For You

It’s the first of December. Shops and churches on the commercial street near me are open late this Saturday night to welcome the Christmas season.

I’m not interested in the shops, but I’ve always been curious about the small brick church set far back from the busy street. Tonight, candles flickering in paper lanterns line both sides of the long walkway leading to the double doors of its arched entrance.

I go up the walk, open a door, and step inside.

The church feels friendly, with textured plaster walls and dark wood. I’ve never been in an Alpine church but that’s what it looks like to me — a church that’s almost a cottage. A few clusters of people sit in pews at the back, listening to a young man playing a guitar and a young woman singing.

The woman moves back and forth, back and forth, to the rhythm of her song. I’ll be there for you, she sings. It’s an anthem. It’s a promise. Her voice, coming through the mike she holds, thrills me. If Ernie were here, he’d have goose bumps. I’ll be there for you.

A little girl carrying a stuffed penguin goes up to the singer and wraps an arm around the singer’s left leg, sways to the singer’s sway. Still singing, the woman bends down to pick up the little girl. Oh, the little girl’s her daughter, isn’t she? I’ll be there for you, the mother sings. Her voice is strong and low and fervent. I’ll be there for you.

Slowly and silently I leave the church, walking between the path of candleglow. Something catches my eye, and I look over my left shoulder to see a full moon, muted in mistiness.

I stop. Ernie, my man in the moon. Are you looking down at me, Ernie? Are you still there for me?