Ernest was a young, somewhat overweight, turkey who was beloved of his few friends and whose death shortly before Thanksgiving of 2007, while not unexpected, was still a tragically
beautiful footnote to the whole Circle of Life.
This is his story.
Ernest was hatched on a poultry farm one rainy Wednesday into a large family,as he was born in an incubator with some two hundred others, so he never really grew close to his siblings.
Ernest didn't know his mother, either; and he had no father as his was a
virgin birth. His early days were spent crowded with other fuzzy baby
turkeys. A special treat was mealtime, when he and his adopted brothers and
sisters ate the high-protein mash presented to them. Ernest, a robust young
poult, always managed to eat a little more than the rest, a trait he would carry
with him to the end of his young life. As soon as he could feed himself and
locate his own water, he was released into the World. Since he could never
clearly remember his infancy, the World was all he knew. Only the gods could
come and go from the world. For turkeys, sharing quarters in the World with
25,000 other turkeys wasn't without its travails. Sometimes, Ernest's temper
would snap and he would poke at one of the other turkeys with his beak. However,
this behavior was noted and one day, one of the gods came and removed one-third
of his beak. The process was painful, but Ernest found he could suck up his mash
even faster afterwards and so didn't mind so very much.
One day, Ernest fell in love. Her name was Angeline, and she was a saucy
little vixen with a delightful wattle and a twinkle in her eye. The couple
decided then and there that they would make little baby turkeys. However, there
was no privacy. And when they decided they didn't really need privacy,
they discovered to Ernest's chagrin that his breasts, which were far larger than
Angeline's, made it impossible for them to make love.
Ernest's weight was also causing hip distress. As it became more difficult
for him to walk, he found himself simply remaining near the feed trough so he
wouldn't have to walk there at mealtime.
Ernest's hips caused him so much discomfort that he found himself listening
to another tom named Constantine. According to Constantine, all physical
ailments were the result of "bad thoughts". So Ernest tried to think only good
thoughts, but his hips remained stiff.
Another influence was the charismatic Betsy. Though small, Betsy had a loud
voice and she encouraged all the turkeys to pray and make offerings to the Gods
of the Turkeys. These were giant, wingless creatures who wore amazingly
beautiful feathers and brought them food from outside the World every day, and,
occasionally, struck terrible vengeance for transgressions, like removing part
of Ernest's beak. The problem was that it was impossible to know what,
exactly, constituted a transgression. According to Betsy, all turkeys were born
with "original sin" and were destined to be punished for it; but the punishment
could be minimized and perhaps even favor curried, if the Gods could be given an
offering.
Before Betsy could specify what form that offering might take, the Gods
entered the World and took her and the other females, including Angeline, to
Heaven.
This Rapture, which Betsy had predicted, was no less shocking because of
that. Ernest began to consider the afterlife more frequently. Not during meals,
certainly, but for much of the time in between.
One day a stranger came into the World from Heaven. His name was Kutkuwic,
and his story was an unbelievable one. He claimed that outside the World, was
another world, one in which the sky was blue and the light in the sky
disappeared at nighttime, only to reappear each morning. Sometimes water fell
from it, and sometimes very cold feathers he called "snow". Instead of the Gods
feeding him, he had to feed himself; and there were small living creatures in
the floor for that purpose.
Most amazingly, Kutkuwic could fly. However, he didn't do it often because
there was no place to fly to. One spot of feces-covered sawdust on the ground
was pretty much like any other. Besides, the other turkeys couldn't get out of
the way fast enough for him to land.
Kutkuwic and Ernest became friends, although each found the other's dialect
somewhat difficult to understand. Kutuwic confessed that he had a premonition.
"I think," he said, "that I used to be in Heaven, and was cast out into
the World. But I think it was a mistake, and that we shall all be taken soon
into Heaven."
Ernest didn't really care, as long as the mash was good and plentiful.
Ernest was still sleeping when, early one morning, the gods came into the
World wearing gloves and carrying dull wire boxes. One by one, the gods picked
up each tom and stuffed him into a box. Some of the turkeys panicked, and began
running to and fro. But how can one escape the gods? Ernest was one of the last
to be chosen; and as he sat in his metal cage he tried to keep calm. "Soon I'll
be in Heaven," he told himself.
There was a brief flash of the Heaven Kutkuwic had described, the sky above
such a brilliant blue that Ernest could hardly stand it. But then he was in
another World-like place, his cell amongst others at his sides and above and
below. There was a stunned silence, broken over by a few forlorn gobbles, and
then a sudden shaking and jolting of the entire place. The jolting continued,
sometimes hurling Ernest against one side of his cage, sometimes another. This
went on so long that, despite his anxiety, Ernest eventually fell asleep.
When he awoke he was ravenous, but there was no food to be had, nor water. He
was drenched from the droppings of the turkey above him, and retaliated by
pooping freely on the poor tom below. This intolerable situation went on for
days, or at least what seemed to be days—at least, Ernest fell asleep three
times. Ernest had ceased to be hungry, feeling just an aching hollow within. He
had just resigned himself to this being the afterlife, when a sudden light
flooded the compartment and gods began removing the cages.
"Thanks, God!" Ernest gobbled, though the god who carried his cage didn't
respond. "Please, take me out of this cage and into the World again! If you will
it," he added, devoutly. Then, as if in response, the god opened Ernest's cage.
But just as Ernest began to hope his imprisonment was over, the God flipped him
over and shackled him by the ankles upside down, onto some sort of moving
conveyor.
The pain in his hips was so intense Ernest tried to cry out; but his throat
was so dry from dehydration he couldn't even croak. It was hard to make out
where he and the other terrified turkeys were going, what with being upside down
and being out of the World and in a place filled with unfamiliar, nameless
things. But there seemed to be something like a small food tray filled with
water up ahead, and the toms' heads were being dunked into it. Ernest was so
thirsty he didn't mind a bit, and could only hope there would be a trough of
mash to follow.
Ernest reached the trough, and his head immersed—and immediately, he lost
consciousness.
After awhile, as if in a dream, Ernest found himself floating alongside his
body. He could fly! But he wasn't even moving his wings. His panic gone, Ernest
became aware of his friends near him, also floating, disconnected from their
dangling bodies. There was curiosity but no fear, not even when a blade sliced
the heads off the unconscious turkeys.
Now, Ernest's hips were no longer in pain; his beak felt whole again. And
here, he felt, was Angeline!
"Ernest," she said, soundlessly, "I've been waiting for you. I've learned so
much! This is the afterlife, not that cage you were in. The cage was
simply a way to get us to it. Now, we get to enjoy the most beautiful
surroundings, to learn and, when we feel we are ready, to return to a greater
World than we left, as any type of being that we choose!"
Ernest and Angeline flew away from their decapitated bodies and spent an
endless timelessness learning about reincarnation, the essence of themselves,
and how the gods weren't gods at all, but merely other creatures not all that
different from themselves. And they learned the range of choices they had for
rebirth.
Kutkuwic decided to be reborn, again, as a "free-range" turkey. "That's what
I was," he explained. "I was thrown into your enclosure by mistake. This time,
I'm going to do it right." His presence evaporated, and Ernest knew
Kutkuwic had gone to his new life.
Betsy declined to be born again as a turkey. "But if you change species,"
Angeline reminded her, "remember you will be doomed to be a misfit; for it takes
many lives within a single species to learn how to work it effectively."
"I don't care," Betsy insisted. "Because I don't intend to change to fit my
new species. Instead, I will work to force everyone else to live as I
prefer."
"How will you do that?" Ernest asked, fascinated in spite of himself. He had
never really forgiven Betsy for convincing him that "good thoughts" would heal
his hips.
"I shall become a Southern Baptist televangelist," said Betsy; and, with
that, vanished into her new life.
"I had a great time selling you suckers patent medicine," Constantine
gloated.
"But you were taking advantage of us!" Ernest protested.
"I thought so, too," Constantine admitted. "But now I realize I was simply
helping you to grow, by letting you experience as victims what you had the
inclination to do as perpetrators. It helped you break through your innate
gullibility. After all, you can't be turkeys forever!"
"So you will, again, be a turkey charlatan?" asked Angeline.
"No turkey, I!" Constantine cried. "My next life time, I am going for the big
time. I shall become a Republican Presidential candidate!" And he was gone.
"And you, my dear?" Ernest asked of his remaining companion. "Will you also
become one of the gods—I mean, a human?"
"For mercy's sakes, no!" Angeline protested. "I want—well, what I want is to
fall in love with you again. I want to be born, and stumble into you, and fall
in love. And this time I want to be able to make love, and have babies
with you."
"It would be nice to be a father," Ernest considered. "But I would still
like to be able to eat, and get good and fat, only without hurting my hips this
time."
Smiling at each other, Ernest and Angeline parted and descended back into the
World. And one rainy day in deepest winter, each was born to a mother bear in
separate dens only twenty miles apart.
Meanwhile, Ernest's earthly remains were,
under the care of Costco, delivered to one Michael Manion who seasoned them, and
cooked them at 325 degrees for five-and-a-half hours and served them at a
Thanksgiving feast for fourteen along with yams, mashed potatoes, green bean
casserole, cranberries, a corn casserole, glazed carrots, and buttermilk
biscuits and stuffing; and for days afterwards as leftovers.
It's all part of the Circle of Life.
The irony of which will be appreciated by Ernest the Bear when he grows up
and eats a vacationing poultry farmer.
