ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: The Writer, His Wife, and their Afterlife
Book One, Part Two, Chapter 164: Christy Calls
Christy is Joshua’s girlfriend. He and she have been together over a decade. It’s a rocky relationship. They’re both intense personalities.
This morning, I hear her voice leaving a message on the answering machine. I go into the bedroom and squat near the phone. I don’t pick up. Oh, am I going to keep making this mistake? Not responding? Not picking up? I’m a little groggy from sleep, but still . . .
A few minutes later, I call her back. She’s on the road now, on an errand, but she’s willing to talk.
“I was in darkness, and I’ve come into the light,” she says. “Most people are unaware, unconscious, but once you’re conscious, there’s no relapse, no going back.”
She gives me information on a meditation class. “This will be good for you. Stick with it. It may seem weird at first. Just stick with it. The feeling it gives you, when you finally get it, is almost orgasmic. It’s beyond chocolate. It’s beyond sex. It’s like my snorkeling. Underwater, it’s a whole new world. Little fishes. Swaying grasses. Colors. Flow. Peace. Meditation will bring you peace. You’ll see. It will come. Just stick with it.”
Christy knows me. Sticking with anything is hard for me. We talk more. I ask her a crucial question. “Do you think Ernie was aware?”
“No, I don’t. He was compassionate. He was an artist. But he depended too much on externals. He couldn’t find peace within himself.”
“What about Joshua?”
“I can only suggest. He’s not ready. He still gets angry. I used to get violent, get physical. I catch myself now. Joshua and I don’t have a full relationship. It’s co-dependent, much as yours and Ernie’s was. You and Ernie didn’t have a great love affair. He wanted you to help him write. All of us can be manipulative. I’m good at it. I use it to help promote our films, my screenplay, my career. But that’s business. That’s not love. Or trust.”
“Perhaps you and Joshua can be each other’s teacher. Perhaps you can learn to love each other. Trust each other.”
“What will be, will be,” Christy says. “I realize I can’t do what I need to do to be whole by myself. Before, I always thought I had to do it all myself. That’s impossible. My world is expanding. I might meet someone. Who knows? No one knows.”
“What about my writing, Christy? The last time we talked, you said the past is shit. You said digging up the past is stirring up shit, stinking the whole house. With Ernie, I was in shit and didn’t know it. Now, it’s as if I have to step into it, smear it all over my face and body so I recognize the smell of it, the feel of it. So I don’t step into it ever again.”
“Writing is good for you. It’s purging. Get it all out. Get out the shit.”
I’m so relieved to hear Christy say this. It feels like a pat on my back. I think Ernie would say the same thing.
“I’m smelling the shit and purging myself of it at the same time.”
“That’s awareness,” Christy says. “You’re getting it. You’re coming out of the darkness.”
“Lots of times I rubbed the shit on Ernie’s face and didn’t know it. Or, if I caught a whiff of it, it didn’t stop me from doing it. Ernie knew it. He just didn’t say anything to me most of the time. He took my shit. But I don’t want to rub my shit on anyone ever again.”
“You’ll smell it, catch yourself,” she says. “We’re all works in progress.”
