Page 10 of Going Home in the Dark

“Well, it’s true. I don’t smoke. I never have.”

“What is it you claim not to smoke, Ernest?”

“How can such a question be answered?”

“Do you bake it into cookies?”

“It? It what?”

“Are you really as naive as you pretend, Ernest?”

“I’m not naive, just confused. You always leave me confused.”

“Is that the kind of thing you tell people about your mother, that I reliably confuse you?”

“Please give me the potato peeler.”

“As naive as you are, you’re liable to harm yourself.”

“People don’t harm themselves with potato peelers.”

“Is that your position, Ernest?”

“It’s not a position. It’s a truth.”

“How interesting you would say such a thing. How revealing.”

“Revealing of what?”

“What about mushrooms?”

“Mushrooms? People don’t hurt themselves with mushrooms, either. How could I hurt myself with a mushroom?”

“What exotic mushrooms have you consumed recently?”

“I don’t care much for mushrooms, Mother.”

“Do you know what a cactus button is, Ernest?”

“I guess it’s what closes up a cactus shirt.”

“Mescaline, Ernest. Those who succumb to primitive forms of music sooner than later become lost in such things as mescaline.”

“If I can’t have the peeler, I’ll finish the potatoes with a sharp knife. If I cut off a finger, it won’t be my fault.”

“Ernest, do you understand the source of your anger?”

“I’m not angry. Just hungry.”

“Your father passed his anger down to you.”

“I never knew my father.”

“He was handsome but ignorant. He thought he could tame me. When I wouldn’t leave the university and wallow in ignorance with him, he couldn’t bear to live as a shadow in my light.”

“What does that mean—‘as a shadow in my light’?”

“If you had furthered your education, you would understand such things. Here is your potato peeler.”

---