Ernest was the smartest boy in the class. Kind of cute too, in a nerdy kind of way. I’m probably the smartest girl, but my brains aren’t built in that scholarly mold—I think I’ve got more what you call street smarts.

So one day last week in Mr. Menke’s after school senior science seminar, the topic was climate change, and Ernest argued that the only way to be sure to save the world was to get rid of all the people. “And it looks like humanity is doing a good job of that,” he pointed out.

“What about God?” someone questioned.

“Yeah, maybe there will be a flood,” Ernest said. “That should cool things off. If not, there’s always heaven. Global warming probably doesn’t reach quite that far.”

“Forget about God,” I said. “What about science?” I thought Mr. Menke would back me up on that, but all he did was cock his head towards Ernest.

“So far science has been the primary cause of Global Warming,” Ernest contended. “Science and the way mankind makes use of it. Antelopes and aardvarks don’t need atomic bombs. Honeybees and hedgehogs have no use for cellphones. We really should find a different word for mankind while we still have a chance. Maybe Manunkind.”

“But what’s the point of a world without people?” I asked. I mean what good does it do to save the world if we can’t enjoy it?”

Ernest nodded. “Well, the fish will enjoy it, as much as fish can enjoy anything,” he declared. “And the cockroaches will go on about their business as always.”

After class Ernest and I walked through the almost empty parking lot. I offered Ernest a ride home. I’ve got one of those gas-guzzling Corvettes, Dad’s gift for my 16^th birthday last year.

“Doing my part to save the world from unhumanity,” I quipped as Ernest buckled his seatbelt. “Want to stop by my house and go for a swim? The lake’s heated up nicely.”

“Uh, I don’t have a suit,” Ernest told me.

I revved the Vette and peeled out of the school lot. “There’s always skinny-dipping. My parents don’t get home til late this evening.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really much of a swimmer,” Ernest informed me. I think I knew that already from a pool party back in sophomore year.

Up in my room, Ernest found my fish tank of interest. Gilby was doing his usual, gliding back and forth through the reeds. “I’d let you feed him,” I told Ernest, “but I already gave him his food this morning. I don’t want him to get overstuffed.”

Ernest nodded.

“Looks like he’s having fun, though, doesn’t it?” I said.