I arrived at Bette’s loft late Friday afternoon still covered in plaster and welding soil, carrying a black back pack that contained Eric’s head wrapped in towels. She kissed my cheek and welcomed me in. She was filming Bonnie recalling Eric’s last days. She sat me down on the sofa next to Bonnie and resumed letting the camera roll. From behind the camera Bet asked me to tell the tale. As I did, I began to cry but, through my tears I continued without stopping just as I did though the making of Eric’s mold. As I neared the end of my story I unzipped my back pack and pulled Eric’s cast from it. Bette and Bonnie were immediately moved to tears. So powerful was its presences.
