Invisible

Short story about a superpower, 2700 words

I have a superpower, have had it for years and never realized it, invisibility. Roy looked to his left, then right, as the people at the table engaged in conversations, all turned away from him. The meeting at the coffeehouse had come to its end, and attendees broke off into groups to converse.

Roy had seen this since he first joined the Meetup group eight months ago, Socrates Cafe, a monthly gathering to talk philosophy. Most of the members seemed to know each other for a long time, and as a newcomer, he had to find a way to break in. The meetings themselves were well structured, the moderator putting a question out to the group, then guiding the discussion that came after. Classic Socratic method, Roy easily joined in the discussion and often brought up viewpoints that others had not thought of. He saw details that others in the group had overlooked and gained complements during discussions for his insight. The attention, a rare treat, made him feel valued, and that sure felt good. Additionally, he had learned a great deal from others whose viewpoints were different from his.

Once the meeting adjourned and the structure evaporated, the discussion often continued over coffee, but this time more among old friends, and Roy wasn’t an old friend to anybody in this group yet. He read the body language, closed clusters of people talking among themselves, feet and shoulders turned inward, a closed circle not open to strangers.

He had joined the Meetup group at the suggestion of the counselor he had been seeing since his divorce a year and a half ago. She had suggested tapping into Meetup and finding groups to get reengaged in a social life, a new life after Karen walked out. At thirty-five, he was not too old to start over.

Roy enjoyed the discussions the group held. Socrates Cafe was pretty much a franchise with numerous groups meeting in several cities, and the format felt familiar. Each meeting revolved around discussing a philosophical question, and he liked the intellectual stimulation. He felt good thinking and weighing questions in a group discussion. Roy enjoyed the diversity of opinions in the group and looked forward to hearing the diverse opinions with different points of view, often learning something new with each meeting.

What he didn’t like was how the same people who had listened to him when he spoke during the meeting suddenly fail to notice his very existence when the formal meeting adjourned. As if a light had turned off, the people to his left, right, and across him at the table turned to their friends in conversation, excluding Roy. Being shut out hurt, something he experienced often in his teenage years, and he thought people outgrew these things by the time they reached their thirties and older.

He looked forward to attending these philosophical meetings because the atmosphere felt refreshingly different from his everyday work as an actuary, something beyond numbers and mathematical models. Discussing human nature, values, behavior, and thinking stirred something in Roy that had needed stirring for a long time. The discussions had become a high point, a time to feel connected with other people and significant. He existed and he had value.

Robert, the police detective to his left leaned into a conversation with Edgar and Alice, two physicians about truth telling versus being kind. Roy tried entering a gap in the discussion with something he remembered reading about the topic in a magazine article, but Alice filled the gap with Robert picking up the thread, all without even a glance in Roy’s direction when he voiced himself.

The snub stung, and Roy turned to his right, where Thelma the school principal chatted with Arlene and her husband Bill about how sometimes it is kinder to be less than honest. Again, Roy mentioned the magazine article, and it was as if he were talking to the wood paneled wall behind them.

Roy slumped back against his chair and finished off the last of his decaf coffee. This was the same old pattern, repeating itself month after month. A great discussion during the meeting, then afterward, it was as if he had turned into vapor, the other members of the group no longer aware he existed. He didn’t understand. It had only been last month when he held the group’s attention as he pointed out a contradiction in Nietzsche's writing, that others came to recognize in moments as the discussion turned. Roy had earned a number of complements as they examined the fact, and he felt the best he had in years. The attention nourished his self esteem, and he was more than the number crunching actuary in the office down the hall. He saw and knew things that others valued.

That moment lasted until the end of the meeting. After the official gathering concluded, the old friends turned to each other, and Roy found himself all by himself as the people next to him at the table turned away to speak with their old friends.

Roy had grown tired of this repeating pattern, and the low of being ignored canceled the high of participating in stimulating discussion. How could these people go on like he just wasn’t there any more? Only ten minutes ago, as the official discussion wound down, he had contributed to the discourse with something he remembered from reading Plato’s Republic that eared at least one bravo. Now that the official meeting had adjourned, he didn’t count any more?

He looked to his left again. Robert left his smartphone and car keys laying on the table near his elbow. Funny how people would leave things like that out in the open. He had seen how people did this often at bars, sometimes even leaving their wallets in the open like that. He picked up the smartphone and examined it, a new looking Samsung Galaxy. He looked at Robert and cleared his throat. “Hey, this looks like the new model. How do you like it?”

Robert continued talking with Edgar and Alice as if Roy hadn’t tried asking a question or was even present.

Roy looked again at Robert, then dropped the smartphone into his jacket pocket. He turned to his right, and Thelma’s conversation with Arlene and Bill became more animated. Thelma had left her Apple iPhone on the table next to her purse. Roy picked it up and asked her if this was the new model that people had stood in line for hours to buy last year, but she seemed too engrossed in discussing kindness versus blunt honesty with Arlene and Bill to notice the man close enough to bite her in the ear. Roy dropped the iPhone into his jacket pocket.

He looked across the table to George, a retired architect who had been talking with Edgar, a retired lawyer about being diplomatic with clients in business. Roy tried entering that conversation and failed, earning not even a glance. He reached out to pick up and pocket George’s Motorola smartphone, then Edgar’s iPhone. These people no longer acknowledged his existence. He must have turned invisible at the conclusion of the meeting, something like Cinderella’s coach turning into a pumpkin at midnight? If he was indeed invisible, he could do anything he wanted, like take people’s smartphones. Roy felt disrespected. He sat a scant arm’s length away, yet the people to his left, right, and across from him didn’t see him any more.

Roy looked around the table, and everybody lingering from the meeting kept themselves deep in conversation in groups of two to four. That is everybody but Roy, odd man out. He pulled out his wallet and left a five and three singles on the table to pay for his coffee, then stood, cell phones weighing down his jacket pockets. Nobody noticed as he waved farewell and stepped away. This had become the pattern since he first joined the group, and it was getting old.

I’m invisible. It’s my superpower. Roy pushed the door open and stepped into the parking lot. He had never been the big extrovert, preferring to pay attention to detail and holding a few close friends rather than an entourage of acquaintances. He remembered previous times where he had gone invisible at company Christmas parties and potluck diners at church. This went back a long way, but he hadn’t recognized it as a superpower until now. If he was invisible, it was high time to take advantage of the fact, and he had done so tonight, pocketing four smartphones. Maybe next time he’d help himself to Thelma’s purse. If Robert left his wallet on the table, Roy would clean it out and find a new home for its cash and credit cards. He was invisible, and he could use this to make a new dishonest living.

One of the purloined cell phones began ringing as Roy drove home. He needed a few moments to reach into his jacket pocket and press the right button to reject the call and silence the noise. Back at home, another smartphone began ringing, and he stacked all four on the top shelf of the coat closet, then closed the door to muffle any further noise. In maybe another day or two the batteries would run down.

#

Back to work. Roy crunched his numbers as he filled out yet another spreadsheet. This time he was investigating wind damage claims for the insurance company. He looked for patterns with locations on a map of the state’s coastline. After a couple hours of checking location versus claims and the history of wind events, he built a mathematical model, then checked it against the data to make sure he got everything right. The model showed the probability of claims against wind damage by area for the next three years. He felt satisfied with his work and sent it forward to his manager.

Roy spent his evenings reading, not watching TV, but instead listening to jazz on the radio, tuned into the local NPR station. He had become a fan of big bands, ready to buy any album with “Jazz Orchestra” in the title or artist slot. His reading covered a wide variety of topics from the latest discoveries in National Geographic to editorials in The Nation. He had discovered a long-long time ago that the public library was his friend.

The cell phones on his coat closet shelf had gone silent, their batteries likely dead. The next meeting for Socrates Cafe had come up, and he reached up to retrieve the phones from the shelf. Tonight’s meeting would be an occasion to give them back. As long as he was invisible, he could do this as often as he wanted: take away their smartphones, then return them after the owners had bought replacements. The extra money it cost them was a pittance compared to the pain the owners had inflicted on Roy.

This month’s discussion topic was different versus evil. Were those who disagree with us simply different, or did they present evil? The discussion grew lively as various opinions entered the discussion. Roy joined the discourse, offering up a number of opinions and quotes from pundits, as well as his own view, and people in the group listened.

When the formal meeting concluded, Roy saw the same old pattern emerge. Again, he tried to engage the people next to him in conversation, and again, he was snubbed, ignored, basically invisible again. He reached into his pocket to place Robert’s original Galaxy smartphone on top of the new replacement iPhone he had brought tonight. He returned Thelma’s iPhone, stacking it on top of the replacement she had brought to the meeting. George and Edgar sat three seats down from last month, but they still were locked in conversation. Roy walked over to them and returned their cell phones, unnoticed.

As he approached the door to leave, a woman touched his arm. She looked familiar, a regular attendee, but one who didn’t always jump into the discussion, listening more than speaking, and usually at the far end of the table before leaving the coffeehouse as soon as the meetings ended. He remembered seeing her face but not anything she had contributed to the group discussion.

“I see you returned their cell phones.” She glanced back at the table and the group. “I thought you’d do that.” She looked anywhere between thirty and forty, standing almost as tall as he.

Roy’s heart thumped twice. Maybe he wasn’t as invisible as he had suspected.

“Let’s get a cup of coffee – in a booth.” She pointed at a location on the far side of the coffeehouse, away from the group.

“Sure.” Roy followed her to a booth. She had seen what he did last month, and she had predicted that he would return the cell phones. Was this a confrontation?

She settled into a seat at the far booth and met his eyes. “I’m Denise.”

He took a seat opposite her. “Yes, I remember. I’m Roy.” He recalled her face from the beginnings of meetings, when members introduced themselves. Like he, she tended to disappear after the formal meeting concluded, and with her at the far end of the table, he hadn’t paid her much notice as he tried engaging his immediate neighbors in conversation.

A waitress appeared, and Denise and Roy ordered decaf. Denise waited until the waitress had walked away. She looked at Roy. “I saw what you did last month.” She nodded toward the table where the Meetup group still lingered.

Roy felt too warm, way too warm for the season.

“I thought that was pretty clever.” A faint smile pulled at her lips. “Too many of the people in the Meetup are like high schoolers with their cliques.”

Roy nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. This woman had caught him red-handed stealing, then returning cell phones. What did she want?

“Thought you were invisible, huh?” She smiled. “It happens to me all the time. I didn’t know that you had the nerve to do what you did.”

The waitress returned with their decaf coffees, placing two cups on the table and pouring from a carafe.

Denise pushed her cup to the side. “I wanted to do something like that for the longest time.”

Roy picked up his cup and took a sip. “Take away phones?”

“Anything.” She shrugged. “During the meetings we have great discussions, and I love it, but afterwards, it’s like high school all over again with the cliques, who’s in and who’s out.”

Roy nodded agreement. “Seems a lot of members know each other from long ago. Not open to newcomers.”

“And that rubs me the wrong way.” Denise flattened her hands on the tabletop. “Didn’t we outgrow this shit after high school?”

Roy nodded and smiled. “We’re supposed to.”

“You wouldn't know from this bunch.” She looked at Roy. “I wanted to do something. Why did you take their phones?”

Roy paused to consider. “It was something I could do. They didn’t see me, so I did something.” He smiled. “Invisibility is my superpower.” He sipped coffee. “What’s yours?”

Denise crossed her arms, right thumb rubbing her left bicep. “I guess it’s mine, too.” She looked down, then met Roy’s eyes.

Roy raised his coffee cup in salute. “To invisibility, our superpower.”

Denise reached for her coffee and clinked mugs. “We see them.” She nodded toward the table where the group had met. “But they don’t see us.” The last two cliques of three and four had risen and began walking to the door.

“I’ll save you the seat next to me next month.” Roy reached for his pen.

“Look for me. I’m usually early, and I can hold a spot for you.”

Roy nodded. “What’s your phone number?” he reached for a napkin.

“I’m getting yours, too.” Denise pulled a pen from her purse.

Roy tore the napkin in two and jotted his phone number, sliding both pieces to Denise.

She began writing on the blank napkin. “Us invisibles ought to stick together.” The right side of her mouth curled up.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Roy returned a smile.