I remember precisely the moment it happened. I had wakened early, just before six. It was late November and still dark. I walked into the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and saw the wall behind me, the towel bar with my beaten-up, reddish-brown robe thrown loosely over it and above it, my favorite photo, an image of a smiling Lou Gehrig and glum Babe Ruth standing side-by side.
What I did not see was my face. I rubbed my eyes, thinking sleep had clouded them, yet still there was nothing. I moved about, looking for different angles, switching on a few more lights. Nothing. I was invisible.
I suppose I should have been shocked, yelping aloud, running around the apartment at wit’s end. Really, I wasn’t surprised. All of my life I had known I was different. Finally, it had happened and, I must confess, I felt relieved. In fact, I was excited. I’d seen the Invisible Man movies. I had a good idea of what I could do.
I put on some clothes and went back to the bathroom. I had been thinking I’d be just like Claude Rains, the clothes visible but my head and hands invisible. But no. Even my clothes had disappeared. Just as well, I thought. Suppose I was walking down the street and the invisibility suddenly wore off. I wouldn’t want to be naked.
I decided to go into work, just to see what everyone was doing -- maybe even to hear what they had to say about me when they thought I wasn’t around. Driving there was a hoot. Every once in a while, I thought I saw other drivers give a double take as they wondered how come they couldn’t see the driver. That’s because I’m invisible, guys! Hah! I went into the first elevator I could find and pressed my floor. Six people followed me in and they stood, facing the door, completely unaware I was there. My floor was one of the first stops and I worried it might be difficult to get off, but somehow they had left room enough for me to slip through and out of the door.
I walked down the hall to my cubicle. People passed by me, not even giving me a look. I went to my cubicle and pulled back the chair to sit. Wait. Suppose they see? A chair mysteriously moving on its own would be sure to draw attention. I looked around, but no one seemed perturbed. I went to the break room where a small crowd had gathered. I walked in and -- of course -- no one said anything. No greetings, no acknowledgments. I really was invisible.
I stood still watching people come in and out and then, I thought, maybe I’ll have some fun. Someone had left a cup of coffee on the counter and, with a quick motion, I knocked it off. It landed on the floor, spattering around the room. Julie, who was seated at a table reading a newspaper, shrieked and jumped up. “What the…” she said and then shook her head, muttering under her breath She looked directly at me -- almost as if she knew I was there -- and then I realized Bob was right behind me. She must have been be blaming him!
“Can you help me?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, grabbing some paper napkins. I quickly walked out of the room while they were cleaning up.
This was amusing, but it’s time, I figured, to indulge in a few fantasies. I left the building and went north a block to a health club to which I once belonged. I quickly passed by the front desk. “Hey,” I heard as a woman raised her head. She must have felt the air move but I was well into the club.
This was the moment I had dreamed of. I stood at the entrance to the women’s locker room and, with no hesitation, walked right in. Within a few seconds, I noticed how different things were. Men’s locker rooms are staid affairs, no one talking, guys just quickly changing in or out of street clothes. But here all of the women were screaming and pulling towels around themselves. I’d been hoping to see a lot of skin, but everyone quickly seemed to be covering up. Most of them, for some mysterious reason, appeared to be are walking towards the exit.
I finished my tour or the place and, as I was leaving, noticed it was almost completely empty. I walked out and saw all of the women, chattering amongst themselves outside of the locker room. I quickly went by them and made for the street.
Wow. What an experience. And to think -- I was completely invisible! But now, as I stood on the sidewalk, people walking by, completely oblivious to me, my wallet started to feel a little light and I thought why not load it up a bit? There was a drug store on the corner and so I walked in. I went behind the counter and, just as a cashier opened a cash drawer, reached in and grabbed a fistful of twenties.
“Hey,” she said and I realized she must see the bills floating around. She reached out to grab them and I spun away. I quickly ran for the door when I barged directly into a security guard. He was big and heavy and grabbed me with both hands. Dumb luck. He couldn’t see me, of course, but he knew he had something.
“What this?” he bellowed and I remained silent. I was hoping he’d relax his grip but he was clever and strong and I was immobilized. A few minutes later, two police officers walked in the door and came over.
“What d’ya got here?” they asked. Plainly, they couldn’t see me, otherwise they’d never have asked the question. They somehow managed to find my arms, however, and pinned them behind my back, locking them together with handcuffs.
And so now I sit in this cell. The bed is hard, the meals are shoved through a small metal door built into the bars, and there is little to do but stare into space, watching the sun rise and fall through my tiny window. Guards and prisoners walk by, ignoring me. No one speaks to me, no one even glances my way. I’m caged, which I don’t like at all, but I’m still invisible and that, I think, really is kind of cool.