Calling Invisible Women (8 page)

“Who’s Alice?”

“She’s one of the women I met. She was great. We went out for coffee after the meeting. She’s an electrical engineer. She designs some kind of panel for computer chips. I didn’t actually understand what she was talking about but it sounded really interesting. She works from home so becoming invisible wasn’t as much of a hardship for her as it was for some of the other women. It turns out a lot of them get fired once they go through the change.”

Gilda stopped and put her hands on her head. “I don’t even know where to start,” she said.

“I know. It was a lot for me to take in, too.” I got down the box of tea bags. Gilda watched as they floated through the air.

“Wait a minute,” she said, and went upstairs. She came back a minute later and handed me a pretty flannel bathrobe, a dark coral pink with a blue satin piping. I recognized it because it was the one I had given her for her birthday last year. “Please put this on.”

I took it from her and held it in my hand. “Why? I’m not asking you to look at me naked.”

“That’s true, but frankly just the fact of it is making me uncomfortable.” Then she whispered, “What if Miller comes downstairs?”

“It wouldn’t make any difference. He can’t see me.”

“Well then put it on so I’ll know where to look when I’m talking to you.”

I put the bathrobe on, cinched the belt. True, it was petty and small-minded on her part, but since I had been liberated for exactly one day I knew I should cut her a break. “Better?”

“Thank you,” she said. “So how did you even find out about this meeting?”

“I saw an ad in the
Herald
. I mean, what are the chances of that? All the years I’ve been looking over the want ads and this has been there and I’ve never seen it. It’s so amazing when you think about it, like even their ads are invisible.”

“How often do these meetings happen?”

“The new members’ meetings are on Wednesdays. Those are the ones they advertise. But really, they have meetings all the time. And if you need a meeting and there isn’t one you can go to the website and ask. Apparently people are really good about coming out.”

“When did you see it?”

“See what?”

“The ad,” Gilda said like she was running out of patience.

I stopped to think. It felt like it had been weeks ago. “Day before yesterday.”

“And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” Gilda was making herself busy with the cups but I could tell her feelings were hurt.

“I guess I just didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t know what it was going to turn out to be like and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“So what did you hope?”

I thought about it. I hadn’t put it into words even to myself. “That I wasn’t going to be the only one. That I wasn’t in this alone.”

“Alone!” Gilda said. “How have you been alone in this? I’ve been with you every day.”

“You have. You’ve been so great. But I wanted the chance to talk to other people this has happened to. They think it’s all a reaction to drugs. Rosemary and I are going to fly to Philadelphia next week to meet with a chemist from Dexter-White.”

“Rosemary. I guess she’s another one of your little invisible friends.”

I ignored that. “Some of the women in the group have flown all over the place. Alice flew to New York last week just to see the Gauguin exhibit and then came home. She waited in the taxi line at the airport until she heard somebody say they were going to the Upper East Side and then she climbed in with them. When they stopped at a light in front of the museum she just got out. If they think it’s weird that the car door opens and closes by itself she doesn’t care. The best part is she goes in the back door with the guards. She saw the whole show before they’d even opened. She has such ingenuity. I would never have come up with a plan like that.”

“And how does she get on the plane? How do you use your ID when they can’t see you?”

“You don’t. You just go naked. You go around security and get on a plane, only you have to be the last one to sit down so nobody sits on you.”

Gilda put her elbows on the kitchen counter and then put her head in her hands. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“Why?” I said, my patience starting to fray. “Because I’m figuring out how to function?”

“No! Because you’re talking about breaching airport security to fly naked on a flight you haven’t paid for. Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd, Clover?”

“What strikes me as odd,” I said, “is that my own best friend who is in perfect health can’t be happy for her sick friend who’s trying to lead a normal life.”

“Hey, Mrs. Hobart,” Miller said, walking into the kitchen. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine, Miller. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” he said. His eyes were scanning the countertops, looking for food. “But I just heard you say you were sick, and you’re wearing my mom’s bathrobe.”

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t feel great. But don’t worry. It isn’t contagious.”

“I thought you were driving your brother to school,” Gilda said.

Miller picked up the car keys and jingled them. “I just came in for these. I hope you feel better, Mrs. Hobart.”

“Thanks, Miller.”

Once the boys were gone I looked at Gilda and she looked at her bathrobe. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“No,” I said. “It’s me. You really have been great.”

“This is an adjustment, that’s all. We always did everything together.”

“I know,” I said. “But trust me, this isn’t something you want to do.”

After Gilda and I had reached a shaky détente I headed back across the street, where, from a distance, I saw my mother-in-law sitting on my front porch. I was in a bit of a quandary because I’d given the bathrobe back. I’d left the front door open but the back door was locked so I couldn’t sneak around and get dressed. I wasn’t even sure that getting dressed would be enough to fool Irene. To make matters worse, Red was now barking and hopping and straining against his leash to get to her. Red, who loved everyone, loved my mother-in-law above all others.

“Hello, Redster,” she said, crouching down into a perfect yogic squat to rub his ears. “How’s my good boy?” For a minute I could see her puzzle over the taut leash, then she unclipped it. It was a retractable leash, and it retracted at the speed of light, giving my shins a sharp smack before whipping back into the casing. I gave out an involuntary yip.

“Clover?”

“Hi, Irene.”

She stood up and put her hand over her eyes to block the sun. “You’re invisible?”

That was Irene, calling it like she saw it. “I am. I should have told you.”

She came down the stairs in her dark purple yoga pants and fuzzy gray sweater, her silver hair cropped short and shimmering in the morning light. At seventy-six she put every woman I knew to shame. She walked right over and took me into her arms. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”

For a second I wondered how she had found me so easily but then I remembered I was still holding the leash. Irene wouldn’t care if I was naked. Irene would think naked was a grand idea. “You don’t seem surprised,” I said.

“Well, I
am
surprised. I didn’t know what was going on, only that it was something. When you didn’t come to class and you didn’t call me back I started to worry. Then when Arthur called and said you were depressed—”

“He’s got to stop that.”

She shook her head. “He wants you to be fine but he wants someone else to take care of it for him, me or Evie or Gilda, one of the women in your life. He puts out these messages hoping one of us will fix things for him. And look, here I am! I’m not asking you to have too much compassion for Arthur but it’s got to be confusing for him, having his wife just vanish. It’s always harder for doctors. They think they should be able to fix everything. Arthur’s father used to get so impatient with me whenever I was sick and I wouldn’t get better right away.”

We went into the house. Red was still jumping all over Irene and I gave him a chew stick to take his mind off her for a minute. “Arthur doesn’t know I’m invisible,” I said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Neither does Nick for that matter. They know something is different but they just can’t quite put their finger on it.”

Irene sat down slowly at the kitchen table. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I should have told them, but I didn’t. The more time goes by the more I have this crazy notion that they should be able to figure it out for themselves.”

“But you’re right!” Irene said, and slapped the table in front of her with both hands. “They have to figure it out.”

“Arthur’s always so busy. It seems like every year his practice doubles. Everybody’s always pulling on him, wanting something. And poor Nick can’t find a job. He’s really trying. He’s so distracted right now I don’t think he’d notice if I had a raccoon growing on the side of my head.” I thought about this for a minute. “No, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t notice that.”

“Stop making excuses for them. You’re invisible. It isn’t too much to ask that they might notice. They have eyes! They can see that the toilet paper roll needs changing and the wastebasket is full and that there is no more orange juice and we drink orange juice and orange juice is sold in grocery stores. They’ve trained themselves not to notice things because the less they notice the more we’ll just take care of it for them. They say, you should have told me you wanted my help when we had twelve people coming over for dinner! You should have told me not to sit in front of the computer looking at football scores while you’re running around doing everything by yourself. If you needed my help why didn’t you ask for it? I didn’t know you needed help. It’s madness. I wanted to raise my son to be better than this, but I was so young when he was born, and I was so in love with him, I think I must have done too much for him. I wanted to raise him to be helpful and thoughtful and attentive and for a while he was, but somewhere along the line, I don’t know, he jumped the rails.”

“It was me,” I said, and I knew it was true. “It was losing my job and being home more. It made everything so much easier. I paid the bills and made the meals and changed the lightbulbs and shoveled the snow and wrote the thank-you notes and planned the vacations and raised the children.” I had to cut myself off. I realized I could go on like this for the rest of the day without taking a breath.

“This is a disaster,” Irene said. “I’m terribly sorry you’re invisible but the idea that you’ve had to go through all of this by yourself—”

“Gilda’s been great,” I said. “And Red.” Red was sitting in my lap. Now that I had stopped wearing clothes he appeared to be levitating above the chair. “He’s the only one who can still see me.”

“He doesn’t see you,” Irene said. “He smells you. Dogs respond first to what they smell.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling slightly disappointed, then I remembered where I was going with this. “I’ve joined an invisible women’s support group. I found an ad in the paper.”

“That ad has been running for years. I had a student who was invisible once, Jane Sidwell.
She
kept coming to class,” Irene said pointedly.

“What happened to her?” I asked. I hadn’t been brave enough to ask the women in the group. Have any of us ever shown up again? What becomes of us in the long term?

“Her family moved to New York. She also wanted to be closer to Dexter-White. Do you know about Dexter-White?”

“I do,” I said. “Though I guess I was the last one to find out.”

“I should have told you. I just never knew you were taking …” Irene shook her head as if shaking the thought away. “It doesn’t matter. Jane went to Philadelphia several times a week and went through their offices, read their e-mails, made copies of files. Apparently she was all over that place.”

“But don’t they have a huge security system?”

Irene shrugged. “What’s security to an invisible woman? It wasn’t as if she had to break into the building after hours. She’d sit right on the desk of the CEO. She’d listen to his letters as he was dictating them. Sometimes she would even mess around with him a little, blow in his ear, move the furniture, that sort of thing. She’s become quite the poltergeist.”

“But is she still invisible?”

Irene nodded. “The last I heard, yes, but that was several months ago. Maybe her situation has improved by now. I’ll give you her e-mail address. In the meantime, I suggest you take a page from Jane’s book. Seize the day. Go out there and do the things you’ve always wanted to do. Don’t sit around hoping that someone’s going to notice that you’re missing. Invisibility can be an impediment or a power depending on what you decide to do with it.”

“I stopped a man from yelling at a woman in a parking lot a few days ago. I didn’t know what was going on exactly but I got in between them.”

“There you go!” Irene said, taking my hand. “You’re practically a superhero already.”

That night, when Arthur and I were lying in bed in the dark, I asked him, “If you could have any superhero power, which one would you want?”

“Flight,” he said without a moment’s reflection. “Wouldn’t everyone want to be able to fly?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to work toward my intended topic of conversation indirectly. “Maybe somebody would want to have x-ray vision or superhuman strength.”

“It would be nice to have a germ shield,” he said. “That would probably improve the quality of my life more than anything else. There could be an entirely new comic book line—Germ Man. He never has to wash his hands or wear gloves. Kids can sneeze all over him and he never catches anything. The tag line would be ‘Germs bounce off like bullets.’ What do you think?”

“He wouldn’t just repel germs,” I said into the dark, a sliver of silvered moon shining through the window. “He would explode them. He emits some kind of high-pitched frequency that only germs can hear, because he’s discovered that germs
can
actually hear, so that everyone he comes in contact with who has any sort of an infection would be instantly healed.”

Arthur scooted toward me in the bed, spooned me into his arms. “You’re a genius, do you know that? I was only thinking of the self-preservation aspect but you took Germ Man to the next level. You made him a humanitarian. That’s what superheros have to be after all. You can’t just be a self-preservationist superhero.”