"I don't know, do I?" he shrugged. He wondered if he was meant to, if the other him would have been mad. He realised, in that moment, that he was thinking of the father Charlie had known as 'the better one'. He had to shake that thought.
Ernest headed over to sign the forms, and ask how much the bail was. What followed was a rather intense stand off that really was a repetition of 'how much do you want?' versus 'how much you got?' until a couple more Cubans appeared ominously in the room. They weren't actually doing anything, but Ernest certainly felt that the tone of the conversation had changed from personal to business.
"All right, there's no need to get sore." He handed over all of the cash he had on him, just in case they decided he had more and were able to prove it. He'd write them a check if this wasn't enough, but with a nod of agreement between them, the sergeant reached for his keys.
"Is not personal, Senor. I got five kids to feed, you understand?" he was telling him as he unlocked the cell.
"Sure, I understand," he responded through gritted teeth, opting not to rock the boat now.