Fiction: Nobody’s Dummy

“Heh? And you call me the dummy!”

The audience roared at the familiar line and the ventriloquist and his dummy both took a bow and skittered offstage.

“Ervin Erskine and Enos, ladies and gentlemen!” Mr. Stedman reminded the theater’s patrons. “And now…”

Ervin had no interest in the rest of the vaudeville show. He walked as far as he could and still be in the building and let gravity place him on a chair. He let his dummy fall to the floor, briefly heedless of whether its nose would be damaged. His chin fell to his chest and he stared morosely at the dark floor.

“The applause doesn’t do it for you anymore, does it, Ervin?”

“No, Irene, it doesn’t. I don’t give two hoots about the applause.”

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