If You Could See Me Now (4 page)

“Ah, I think she’s saying she’ll be back in two minutes,” I said to Luke, and he looked at me oddly.

The woman with the phone watched in fright as the car sped off again down the road, narrowly missing hitting a child on the road. A few hairs escaped from the tight bun on her head, as though attempting to chase the car themselves.

Luke lowered his head and quietly put the
fireman back on his ladder. The woman let out an exasperated screech, threw her hands in the air, and turned on her heel. She lurched forward as the heel of her shoe became lodged between the cobbles of the drive, and shook her leg wildly, growing more frustrated by the second. Eventually, she tugged her foot free with one great effort. The shoe
flew out; the heel remained lodged in the crack.

“FUUUUCCCK!” she yelled. Hobbling on one high heel and what was now one
flat pump, she made her way back up the front porch. The fuchsia door slammed shut behind her and she was swallowed back up by the house. The windows, doorknob, and the letter box smiled at me again and I smiled back.

“Who are you smiling at?” Luke asked with a frown on his face.

“The door,” I replied, thinking it an obvious answer.

He just stared at me with the same frown, his mind evidently half lost in the thoughts of what he had just seen, and in the oddity of smiling at a door.

We could see the woman with the phone through the glass of the front door, pacing the hall. “Who is she?” I asked, turning to look at Luke.

He looked shaken. “That’s my aunt,” he almost whispered. “She looks after me.”

“Oh,” I said. “Who was the one in the car?”

Luke slowly pushed the
fire engine through the grass,
flattening the blades as he went along. “Oh, her. That’s Saoirse,” he said quietly. “She’s my mom.”

“Oh.” There was a silence and I could tell he was sad.
“Seer-sha.”
I repeated the name, liking how it felt when I said it; it was like the wind blowing out of my mouth in one big gust or how the trees sounded when they talked to one another on windy days.
“Seeeeer-ssshaaaa.”
I eventually stopped when Luke looked at me oddly. I picked a buttercup out of the ground and held it under Luke’s chin. A yellow glow appeared on his pale skin. “You like butter,” I stated. “So Saorise’s not your girlfriend then?”

Luke’s face immediately lit up and he giggled. Not as much as before though. “Wanna come inside and play on the computer? I’ve got the new Wrestle Mania game.” And so I found myself inside Fuchsia House waiting for a pizza with olives to be cooked by a woman called Elizabeth, with my new friend Luke.

Chapter Three

It was really nice of Luke
to invite me to lunch that day. When I said that pizza was my favorite, I hadn’t intended on actually being asked to stay to eat it. But how can you say no to the treat of
pizza
on a
Friday?
That’s a cause for double celebration. However, I got the impression from the incident in the playroom that his aunt didn’t like me very much. I wasn’t at all surprised because that’s usually the way it goes. The parents think that making food for me is a waste because they always just end up throwing it out. But it’s tricky for me—I mean,
you
try eating your dinner while sitting squashed in a tiny place at the table while everyone looks at you and wonders whether the food is going to disappear or not. I eventually get so paranoid that I can’t eat and I have to just leave the food on the plate.

Not that I’m complaining; being invited to dinner is nice, but they never quite put the same amount of food on my plate as everyone else. It’s never even half as much food as the rest and they always say things like, “Oh, I’m sure Ivan’s not that hungry today anyway.” I mean, how would they know? They never even asked. I’m usually sandwiched between whoever my best friend is at the time and some annoying older brother or sister who steals my food when no one’s looking.

They forget to give me things like serviettes and cutlery and they sure aren’t generous with the wine. (Sometimes they just give me an empty plate and tell my best friends that invisible people eat invisible food. I mean,
please,
does the invisible wind blow invisible trees?) I usually get a glass of water and that’s only when I ask my friends politely. The grown-ups think it’s weird that I need a glass of water with my food, but they make an even bigger deal about it when I want ice. I mean, the ice is free anyway, and who doesn’t like a cool drink on a hot day?

It’s usually the moms who have conversations with me. Only they ask questions and don’t listen to the answers, or pretend to everyone else that I’ve said something else just to make them all laugh. They even look at my chest when they’re talking to me, as if they expect me to be three feet tall. It’s such a stereotype. For the record I’m six feet tall, and we don’t really do the “age” thing where I’m from. We come into existence as we are. It’s our brain that does the growing. Let’s just say my brain is pretty big by now, but there’s always room for more growth. I’ve been doing this job for a long, long time and I’m good at it; I’ve never failed a friend.

The dads always say things under their breath to me when they think no one else is listening. For example, me and Barry went to Waterford on our summer holidays and we were lying on the beach on Brittas Bay and a lady walked by in a bikini. Barry’s dad said under his breath, “Getta loada that, Ivan.” The dads always think that I agree with them. They always tell my best friends that I told them things like, “Ivan told me to tell you to eat your broccoli,” and stupid things like that. My best friends know full well that’s not what I would say.

But that’s parents for you.

Nineteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, Elizabeth called Luke for dinner. My stomach was grumbling and I was really looking forward to the pizza. I followed Luke down the long hall to the kitchen, looking in every room as we passed. The house was quiet and our footsteps echoed. Every room was all white or beige and so spotless, I began to get nervous about eating my pizza because I didn’t want to make a mess. As far as I could see not only was there no sign of a child living in the house, there was no sign of
anyone
living in the house. It didn’t have what you’d call a homey feel.

I liked the kitchen though, it was warm from the sun and because it was surrounded by glass, it felt like we were sitting in the garden. Kind of like a picnic. I noticed the table was set for two people so I waited until told where to sit. The plates were big, black, and shiny; the sun shining through the window made the cutlery sparkle, causing two crystal glasses to make rainbow colors on the table. There was a bowl of salad and a glass jug of water with ice and lemon in the center of the table. Everything was resting on black marble place mats. Looking at how everything glistened, I was afraid even to get the napkins dirty.

Elizabeth’s chair legs squeaked against the tiles as she sat down and she put her serviette on her lap. I noticed she’d changed into a chocolate-brown tracksuit to match her hair. Luke’s chair squeaked and he sat down. Elizabeth picked up the giant salad fork and spoon and began to gather leaves and baby tomatoes onto her plate. Luke watched her and frowned. Luke had a slice of margarita pizza on his plate. No olives. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

“Is something wrong, Luke?” Elizabeth asked, pouring dressing over her lettuce.

“Where’s Ivan’s place?”

Elizabeth paused, screwed the lid back on tightly, and put it back in the center of the table. “Now Luke, let’s not be silly,” she said lightheartedly, not looking at him. She was afraid to look.

“I’m not being silly.” Luke frowned. “You said Ivan could stay for dinner.”

“Yes but where
is
Ivan?” She tried to keep the soft tone in her voice while sprinkling grated cheese over her salad. She didn’t want this to become an issue. She would knock it on the head straightaway and there would be no more talk of invisible friends.

“He’s standing right beside you.”

Elizabeth slammed her knife and fork down and Luke jumped in his seat. She opened her mouth to silence him but was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. As soon as she left the room, Luke got up from his chair and took out a plate from the kitchen press. A big black one just the same as the other two. He placed a slice of pizza onto the plate, took out cutlery and a napkin, and placed it on a third place mat beside him.

“That’s your seat, Ivan,” he said happily and took a bite out of his pizza. A piece of melted cheese dribbled down his chin, looking like yellow string.

To be truthful, I wouldn’t have sat down at the table if it wasn’t for my grumbling stomach shouting at me to eat. I knew Elizabeth would be mad, but if I gobbled it up real fast before she returned to the kitchen then she wouldn’t even know.

“Want some olives on that?” Luke asked, wiping his tomato face on his sleeve.

I laughed and nodded. My mouth was watering.

Elizabeth hurried back into the kitchen just as Luke was reaching up to the shelf.

“What are you doing?” she asked, rummaging through a drawer for something.

“Getting the olives for Ivan,” Luke explained. “He likes olives on his pizza, remember?”

She looked across to the kitchen table and saw that it had been set for three. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Look Luke, don’t you think it’s a waste of food, putting the olives on the pizza? You hate them and I’ll only have to throw it out.”

“Well, it won’t be a waste because Ivan will eat them, won’t you, Ivan?”

“I sure will,” I said, licking my lips and rubbing my aching tummy.

“Well?” Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

Luke frowned. “You mean you can’t
hear
him either?” He looked at me and circled his forefinger around his temple, signaling to me that his aunt was crazy. “He said he sure will eat them all.”

“How polite of him,” Elizabeth mumbled, continuing to rummage through the drawer. “But you better make sure every last crumb is gone because it’ll be the last time Ivan eats with us if not.”

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth, I’ll gobble it all right up,” I told her, taking a bite. I couldn’t face not being able to eat with Luke and his aunt again. She had sad eyes. Sad brown eyes and I was convinced that I was going to make her happy by eating every last crumb. I ate quickly.

...

“Thanks, Colm,” Elizabeth said tiredly, taking the car keys from the Garda.

“Saoirse was out of the car in less than
five
minutes and we found it straightaway,” he explained.

She circled the car slowly, inspecting the paintwork closely.

“There’s no damage done,” Colm said, watching her.

“Not to the car anyway.” She attempted a joke, patting the bonnet. She always felt embarrassed. At least once a week there was some sort of incident involving the Gardaí and although they were never anything but professional and polite about the situation she couldn’t help feeling ashamed. She would work even harder in their presence to appear “normal” just to prove that it wasn’t her fault, and that it wasn’t the
entire
family that was nuts. She wiped down the splashes of dried mud with a tissue.

Colm smiled at her sadly. “She was arrested, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth’s head shot up, now fully alert. “Why?” she asked in shock. They had never done that before. They had always given Saoirse a warning and then dropped her back to wherever she was staying. Unprofessional, she knew, but in such a small town where everyone knew everyone, they had always just kept their eye on Saoirse, stopping her before she did anything incredibly stupid. But Elizabeth feared Saoirse had been warned once too many.

Colm
fidgeted with the navy blue Garda cap in his hands. “She was drunk driving, Elizabeth, in a stolen car, and she doesn’t even have a license.”

Hearing those words caused a shiver through Elizabeth’s body. Saoirse was a danger. Why did she keep protecting her sister? When would the words
finally sink in with her? When would she learn to accept that they were right, that her sister would never be the angel she wished her to be?

“But the car wasn’t stolen,” Elizabeth stammered, “I told her that she c—”