In the Shadows

Ernest

If anyone ever asked, Ernest would say the most interesting thing about him was his family. This possibly was the most interesting thing about him. Growing up, he had the pleasure of trying to share two bathrooms with his eleven siblings and parents. Perhaps, it was the crazy atmosphere of the twelve children that made Ernest want a big family. His wife, as it happened, wanted a small family. They, apparently, settled with five.

Ernest fully believed that the most interesting thing about himself was the people that he loved with all of his heart.

This had always been an attribute of Ernest’s. He always seemed to care too much about people, trusting them and giving them the ability to hurt his unguarded heart. He loved without borders, a quality that not many people could claim.

Perhaps, it was this characteristic that defined him the best. He cared so much for everything and everyone. He just wanted to keep the people he loved safe from all harm. He wanted to be there for them even when it was hard. He wanted to experience all that life had to offer.

Growing up, he had viewed his being a werewolf as reality. He accepted it in much of the same way as his daughter, Sage, did. There was nothing he could do to change who he was. All he could do was chain himself up on the full moon and hope that no one would be hurt by his actions.

Ernest did not grow up as the Alpha of his family, not by far. That responsibility was left to his eldest brother. No, becoming an Alpha was an interesting turn of fate that took place when he married Victoria. A trait that he would one day pass down to his sons.

Ernest’s childhood was a profoundly dull one. He grew up in a large house in a small town in northern California. Periodically, he and his friends would go out to the beach and surf. He loved surfing. He felt like the ocean called to him. He wanted always to surf, bum around the beach, and spend time with his best friend, John.

John, like Ernest, was a werewolf. The two had met at elementary school, before Ernest learned to keep his mouth shut about what he was, and they stumbled upon the irrevocable truth they both shared. John was an only child. And, in contrast to the loud, rambunctious family of twelve to which he belonged, Ernest decided John’s family needed him more than his own. They were closer than friends, they were brothers.

Yet, no matter how much they cared for one another, they could not help the competitive attitude that seemed to surround them.

If John got a dog, Ernest had to get a bigger one.

If Ernest got a summer job, John had to get a better one.

Their constant competition with one another seeped into their personalities. It caused many fights among them. But above all else, they would forgive one another. Just like brothers would.

Among their many competitions and bets held one that would forever be alive in the back of Ernest’s mind. Sometimes, he would take out the memory, hold it in his hand, focusing hard on it. He would be filled with the numerous emotions once again, being left with little else than bittersweet nostalgia mixed with deep and abiding sorrow.

And it all started with a girl. A girl named Vanessa.

Vanessa was easily the most beautiful girl at their high school. She had these dark, long eyelashes that she would peer through to look at Ernest and John. Her eyes were a perfect mixture of green and hazel. She stood tall and proud, exemplifying everything her chest had to offer. Her skin was tanned, her hair dark brown that she would occasionally highlight with blond. She was the picture of perfection and she strode around the school and town like she knew it.

Falling for Vanessa was easy, most guys in the school and accomplished that by a single look at her. No, the hard part was convincing her they were worth her time. And this was where the competition began.

During their junior year of high school, Vanessa’s senior year, Ernest and John made a bet. They could not discern which of them would have her, so they decided to let her choose. Winner would take her to the Homecoming dance.

Of course, it was not terribly easy. First, they both had to approach her. Ernest spent a week using his enhanced hearing to listen to her conversations. He learned much about her this way, what she liked and what she did not like. He also learned that, once a week, she went to Dave’s Pizzeria with her father. And, as it happened, Ernest was quite close with the owner of the pizzeria.

Dave Hayes had one goal when he was growing up. He wanted to own his own restaurant. He went to culinary school, studied abroad in Italy for a while too. Then, he came home to the small town where his family was and opened the pizzeria.

“I don’t see how this is going to help you at all, Ernest,” Dave commented to his cousin. “It sounds like a terrible idea and that’s going to end badly for you.”

“You are just all kinds of helpful, Dave,” retorted Ernest, certain that everything would go according to plan.

And, for the most part, it did. Dave walked by Vanessa just as she was standing up from her table. He held a large pizza he had just made and pretended not to look where he was going. At the last second, Ernest pulled Vanessa away from the line of fire, saving her from being doused in sauce and cheese.

“T-thank you,” she said to Ernest, truly seeing him for the first time. “This is my favorite dress.” It was a meet-cute. And Ernest was forever on Vanessa’s radar because of it. He mattered to her.

Ernest never learned how John chose to approach Vanessa, he just knew that one day, like Ernest himself, he was nothing to the lovely lady. Then, the next, John was found in her company, existing for the first time to Vanessa.

They both spent an enormous amount of time with her. They would take her on dates. Once, Ernest took her to a movie. The next night, John took her on a long drive around town. The two were very much aware that the other was actively pursuing the woman. They refused, above all else, to let to it interfere with their friendship.

Unfortunately, those promises are usually broken when someone gets too close. And so it was for John.

Ernest admired Vanessa. She had strength and personality. Certainly, she could be annoying sometimes, she could be selfish and put herself before all others. But sometimes, she could be sweet, she could see other people’s needs. She had this thirst for knowledge that was unparalleled and unrivaled. She wanted adventure. She wanted a life filled with possibilities. Ernest admired her. But he did not love her.

John did.

John worshipped the very ground on which she walked. He strove to meet her every need, ignoring the faults in her, choosing only to see the good. He wanted to spend every moment on earth with her. He was convinced that he had met the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

And his love for Vanessa turned to jealousy for anyone who got to spend time with her. And jealousy turned to hatred.

For weeks, he refused to even speak to Ernest, snapping at his friend whenever Ernest tried to speak up for himself. He was greedy with his time with Vanessa, choosing to be ready whenever she needed him. She used him like he was some sort of servant instead of the human being that was desperately in love with her. And while he loved her, she did not love him. When Ernest tried to explain this all to his friend, John punched him in the face, leaving a trail of blood streaming out of his nose, and a bruise around Ernest’s eye that took days to disappear.

To an outsider, it might have been obvious that Vanessa would choose to go to Homecoming with Ernest over John. She enjoyed her time with Ernest more than with John. A psychologist might claim it was because Ernest did not follow her around like a lost puppy, desperately trying to get her to love him. And while that psychologist might be right, Vanessa wanted to go with Ernest for more than this. She wanted to go with him because her affections were for him, not John.

Perhaps, they all would have chosen differently had they foreseen the events that were about to unfold before their very eyes. Perhaps, Vanessa would have taken pity on John, had she known. But that is the thing about the future. No one knows the effects their actions might have until after it has passed.

During the dance, John stole Ernest away from Vanessa’s attention, claiming they needed to talk about something. Vanessa, not suspecting anything, scampered off to the punch table, ready for her thirst to be quenched after all the dancing. With a smile and joy filling her, she walked back to where John and Ernest were talking.

It was only as she grew closer that she realized they were arguing. And it was only after she had reached them that she learned what they were arguing about.

“You bet on me?” she said stunned, not registering the startled and guilty expressions on their faces. “I was just a game to you?”

“No!” John tried to atone. “You were never just a–”

“So what was the bet then?” she placed her drink firmly on a nearby table, her hands falling to her hips in anger. “Who would go with me to the dance? Who would spend the night with me first? I’m nothing but some sick competition for you!”

“Vanessa–” John started.

“Forget it,” she muttered, stomping away from them, the crowd of dancers parting like the Red Sea so that she could get by them, hoping to be spared by her fury.

Ernest still blamed himself and John for what happened that night. Their competitive attitudes put someone in harm’s way. Vanessa had been filled with life. She had hope for her future, plans to hang out with her friends the very next day, she had wanted to become a doctor and help others. She wanted to get married and have kids. She wanted to grow old with someone she loved.

But all of that was robbed from her. For as she was driving home, making a left turn in an open intersection. A drunk driver barreled into her car, killing her instantly.

Ernest knew that if she had not overheard their conversation, she would not have gone home early, and if she had not gone home early, she would not have been hit by the car in the middle of the intersection.

Ernest missed her. He would look back at his time with her with fondness. She was fun and adventurous. It was the sorrow he felt when he recalled her inevitable demise that hit his heart like a ton of bricks that made him want to forget.

But he could never forget. That would be dishonoring to her memory.

That night changed everything. Ernest changed for the better. He learned to put value in other people’s lives. He learned to be careful with his actions. He never knew who could be hurt if he chose wrongly again.

And for John? John changed in the painful ways. A sorrow fell over him that Ernest was scared would never go away. That night affected him in so many ways. Ways that could not be foreseen.

He and John went back to being friends, it was all they really could do. They tried to move on. And Ernest did. But John Volbraght did not.