Chapter 6
Even as a small boy, Ernest felt a strong, close affinity for nature. He would make a bed on his family’s Basel apartment balcony from branches and ferns he collected from local parks. He would sleep on them and make camp in autumn and early winter to the tacit approval of his parents, who thought his behaviour odd but did not wish to discourage whatever creativity Ernest was taking in his life.
Master’s, as a child, meticulously recorded the natural world around him, everything from the pattern of a butterfly’s wing to how a spider formed a web on the balcony railing. His skill set, which his parents found curious, would serve him well in later life.
As a young adult, Ernest was actively denying his own legacy, fully understanding why, but he didn’t f why. He was either introspective or self-destructive. He wasn’t sure of his own motivations at times. He was at a confusing turning point in his life.
Ernest had voiced his doubts and misgivings to a university friend, Lukas, almost hoping he could be talked down from the cliff he had put himself on, one of potential self-destruction.
The Cafe Fruhling-Kaffeemocher was located on Klybeckstrasse near the University of Basel, where Ernest’s future lay in the balance. He was sharing a Schale, and a specialty of the house, a Basler Leckerli, with his friend Lukas; the place smelled of burnt espresso and rain-soaked wool. Students murmured over textbooks as Ernest and Lukas sat at a corner table, discussing current issues concerning Ernest and his somewhat reckless plans for the future.
“You look like shit, like you haven’t slept in a decade. What’s happening with you, Ernest?”
Ernest exhaled long and thin, as if releasing weeks of pressure. “Thanks for that, much appreciated. Maybe I haven’t slept. Maybe too I'm done pretending I know where any of this is going.”
Lukas, surprised by his friend's dismal comment, responds, “My God, Ernest, let’s get right to the core, what on earth are you talking about? If it’s school and classes you are talking about, well, you aren’t alone, my friend. It’s getting everyone down. You’ve always managed to push through. It’s brutal, but it will pass.”
“That’s just the problem Ernest responded. “I wish it were just that simple. Sure, that may be some of what’s bothering me, but it’s more, much more. All this time I’ve been pushing through a life I did not choose; well, I did, but it’s not what I ultimately want for myself. You know, ever since I was a kid, all I wanted…” He paused, searching for the right words to help his friend understand the dilemma, to help himself understand, “Purity, I guess. Nature, the world before the rot. I mean, look at this world! Everything is competition, growth and greed. Look at those tribes in Borneo or Brazil, people who still live inside the world instead of fighting it. The noble savages I read about in books as a kid. They knew who they were. Do we now, I mean, really? Life is upside down and inside out.”
Lukas stirred his coffee, watching Ernest carefully. “And you think med school is what…a betrayal of all of that? Ernest, look at all the good you can do here, or wherever you choose, when you graduate, and you will. You will be a great doctor, one who makes a difference, and that can easily be you. Just hang in there a little longer, is all I’m saying. You know you’ve come so far, done so much.”
“I think what I’m doing now is a betrayal of myself,” Ernest whispered. “I’m about to graduate into a life of fluorescent lights and artificiality. I’m denying myself the one thing I’ve always felt in my bones. I can’t do it anymore. I’m dropping out, plain and simple.”
Lukas blinked, stunned. “Ernest, that’s not some small course correction. That’s jumping off a cliff.”
“Maybe cliffs are where you have to go to see the horizon, to get perspective.”
“That’s poetic,” Lukas said. “And terrifying.”
Ernest laughed softly, but it cracked halfway. “You think I’m being self-destructive?”
“I think you are running from something,” Lukas said carefully. “Have you spoken to Elaina about all of this?” You are guilty of idealizing places you haven’t lived and people you don’t actually know, stories that are not your own. To me, that defines artificial. You might be throwing away a future you don't know, one you’ve worked for, for a dream built on mist.”
Ernest looked down at the table, tracing a groove in the wood with his thumb. “Maybe the dream is the only thing that feels real.”
Silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional hiss of milk steaming behind the counter.
Finally, Lukas sighed. “I won’t talk you down if you are ready to step off the path. I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t speak like this unless you’ve made up your mind.”
Ernest glanced up, surprised. “So that’s it? You’re just letting me go?”
“Not letting you go,” Lukas said gently. “Just…letting you be who you think you need to be.” He reached across the table, giving Ernest’s arm a brief squeeze. “I don’t know if this is courage or self-sabotage. Maybe both. But if you really believe that your future is out there somewhere in the world, somewhere between rainforest canopies and river villages, then…I hope you find it.”
Ernest swallowed, his throat tight. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For not calling me insane.”
“Oh no, you’re insane, alright, and certifiable,” Lukas said with a faint smile. “But sometimes that’s how people find their truth.”
Outside, the clouds broke just enough for a thin shaft of light to catch Ernest’s face. He closed his eyes, as if receiving a blessing or a warning.
Lukas lifted his cup. “To whatever comes next,” he toasted, although the words felt both fragile and monumental.
And in that moment in the quiet cafe, surrounded by the ordinary hum of student life, Ernest Masters felt the first tremor of a life unmade and remade, all at once. Now all he had to do was explain this one more time to Elaina, his fiancée.
