Invisible

A short story by M.L. Nokes

It was a dark and stormy night….

            No, not really, but isn’t that how tales are started?  It actually was a normal, average day in the middle of August, I believe, when she first realized that she could be invisible.  But let me start a little further back, my name is Tucker and I would like to tell you a story of my friend Leann. 

            I met her years ago; she was tall with broad shoulders that she got from her father, long limbs and a longer gait, bright grey eyes and a loud boisterous laugh, which she also got from her father.   Most everyone that met her became her instant friend, although I would find out over the years that her friends were in layers, like the many rings of a tree’s life.  There were those that circled by once a year for the holidays with cards or an occasional chance meeting, a few rings closer in were the ones she perhaps knew many years prior but as the years ticked by their relationship grew as thin as their memories, just outside the inner circle were those of us who hovered waiting for that final step, but the truly lucky ones, less than a handful, were within the inner circle, I was not one of them. 

            Life was not easy for Leann, it wasn’t terrible either.  In the grand scheme of life she had, on average, more of the bigger downs, but she was blessed by many ups as well, just not so many of the bigger ups.  Looking back I think perhaps they could not counteract the size of the downs, but she balanced it, or so it seemed. 

            As the years went by and she and I became closer friends, even though she kept her distance, she would confide in me things that I would only assume should be meant for the most inner of circle friends, and I felt honored that she thought so much of me, or maybe I should have been sadden because she thought so little. 

            She told me of the time that she discovered that she could be invisible.  I laughed, I thought that she was being funny, we had only just been talking about if we had super powers what would we want to be, and then she tossed out her power of invisibility.  She just laid it right out there on the table, as though it was something as jovial as “I am going to the dentist on Thursday.”  And that is when she told me of the times leading up to that average, normal day in the middle of August, and I will tell you the same now.

            She said she noticed it as the weeks and months past, probably like a year or more.  She would go to parties with a friend or two and other than talking with her friend; she would be ignored by all the other patrons.  At first she thought that this was because of her actions, perhaps she was being shy or anxious because of the strange and unfamiliar surroundings.  She had always heard that “you get back what you put out”, so perhaps she was putting out a “don’t bother me vibe, I bite.”  So she tried to be more personable.  Laughing, with her boisterous laugh, at others jokes, sitting closer, including herself in conversations, but it didn’t work.  She was still ignored. 

            As the days went by she started to notice that even while doing mundane things like standing in line at the post office she would be over looked when the clerk would call out for the next customer.  Stepping forward she would be ran into by the person behind her as he or she would step up to the counter never noticing that she was there.  There would be the normal “Excuse me, pardon me, I didn’t see you there.” comments, which she passed off as busy people in a busy world. 

            She would be grocery shopping, following her list, perusing the aisles for the items that she needed, when she would come up on a group of people talking.  Politely she would stand there patiently waiting for them to notice her and excuse themselves out of the way, but they never would.  Their children on the other hand always noticed her.  She would inevitably be forced to turn around and take another direction.  I would come to find out that all children noticed her, as well as animals.  You know they say that children and animals have a sixth sense that we adults loose as we grow older, perhaps they could still see her.  I don’t know that’s something that crossed my mind just now.  

            One could say that she was just not forceful, perhaps she was meek.  But even without opening her mouth she was imposing.  Standing in a crowd, one would think she would be noticed with her almost six foot frame.  Even the meekest person, if tall enough or broad enough would be noticed, or so one would think.

            Her closest inner circle friend advised her that her being unnoticed, at least at the grocery store, was probably due to her tearing through the store like the Wicked Witch of the West, with theme song included.  So, Leann decided to make eye contact, smile, and nod, even say “Hello” as she passed other customers.  Nothing, not even a smile. 

            “Am I that unattractive that people are repulsed by me?” she actually thought at some point.  I told her that she was not unattractive, quite the contrary and that perhaps people were intimidated by her!  She laughed.  She claimed that I, like her friends and family, were looking at her through “love goggles” and we didn’t see the true her.  She began to think that her life had jaded her, faded her.  I tried my best to assure her that she was wrong.  But that thought stuck with her and I think that is what stirred this power to full fruition.  She began to think she was unworthy, her days became more work and home and less life and living. 

            On that fateful, average, normal, middle of August day she went to the same grocery store she had been to for years upon years.  She followed the same path, the same list and pulled down the same items she always had.  While in the cereal aisle something got into her eye, a lash or dust, but she claimed it felt like a branch, so she rubbed and rubbed until tears began to well but the log would not wash out.  She needed a mirror. 

            Quickly she made her way down the cereal aisle only to be stopped in her tracks by the Mother Clutch, the group of two or three women huddled together with their carts, in the middle of the aisle laughing and swapping stories of children or recipes or husband woes.  None of the women noticed her, but every child, from infant to around five all looked at her and smiled.  She smiled down at the babies and winked at the children and waited patiently for one of the women to glance her direction.  Nothing. 

            She turned and went around the opposite way and hurried down the always empty baking aisle, across the promenade, and into the infant section headed for the sunglasses aisles.  As she turned the end cap of the diaper aisle she almost ran into a young mother with her small child who was close to a year old.  She stopped abruptly, mumbled an apology and proceeded to go around her.  The young mother, engrossed in styles and sizes of diapers, never looked up or even glanced.  Her child however did, the small blonde girl, petite and porcelain skinned with giant green eyes; grinned and reached out with her chubby Cheerio crusted fingers and pointed at Leann as she passed.  The young mother, seeing her daughter’s movement looked over and followed her point, for a split second, as Leann glanced over her shoulder back at the two of them, their eyes met, but it was like the young woman was looking past her, or through her.  Leann smiled and nodded; the young mother cooed something to her daughter and turned back to the mountain of diapers never acknowledging that anything transpired.

            Leann made it to the wall of sunglasses looking frantically for one of those small, almost useless, warped mirrors that the stores have there for you to try to see what you would look like with their sunglasses on, only to not really be able to see anything but about three inches of your face.  Tears had started to pour from the tree sticking in to her eye and she was desperate to see what it was and remove the foul evil entity. 

            She found one near the end.  Pushing her almost full shopping cart along with her, she reached up, taking her hands off the handle to adjust the tiny sunglass mirror, thinking it was too high or too low, and she caught a glimpse of her purse in the basket with her scribbled grocery list laying catawampus on the top of her purse.  She turned the mirror up and down, left and right, and that was when she realized, although she could see the cart, her purse, and her groceries, even her grocery list and all that surrounded her in the store, she wasn’t in the mirror. 

M.L.