Let's Get Invisible (7 page)

“We can’t do it now,” Lefty said, interrupting my thoughts. “Because it’s my
turn to beat the record.” He turned back to April, who was standing tensely by
the door, pulling at a strand of her black hair, a worried frown on her face.
“Ready to time me?”

“I guess,” she replied, sighing.

Lefty pushed me out of the way. He stepped in front of the mirror, stared at
his reflection, and reached for the string.

“Lefty!” a voice shouted from behind us. “Lefty!”

Startled by the interruption, I uttered an alarmed cry. Lefty stepped back
from the mirror.

“Lefty, tell your brother his friends have to leave! It’s dinnertime. Grammy
and Poppy are here. They’re eager to see you!”

It was Mom, calling up from downstairs.

“Okay, Mom. We’ll be right down!” I shouted quickly. I didn’t want her to
come up.

“But that’s not
fair
!” Lefty whined. “I didn’t get my turn.”

He stepped back up to the mirror and angrily grabbed for the string again.

“Put it down,” I told him sternly. “We have to go downstairs. Quick. We don’t
want Mom or Dad coming up here and seeing the mirror, do we?”

“Okay, okay,” Lefty grumbled. “But next time, I get to go first.”

“And then me,” Zack said, heading toward the stairs. “I get a chance to beat
your record, Max.”

“Everybody, stop talking about it,” I warned as we all clomped down the
stairs. “Talk about something else. We don’t want them to overhear anything.”

“Can we come over tomorrow?” Erin asked. “We could start up the contest
again.”

“I’m busy tomorrow,” April said.

“We can’t do it tomorrow,” I replied. “We’re visiting my cousins in
Springfield.” I was sorry they’d reminded me. My cousins have this humongous
sheepdog that likes to run through the mud and then jump on me and wipe its
hairy paws all over my clothes. Not my idea of a good time.

“There’s no school on Wednesday,” Zack said. “Teachers’ meetings, I think.
Maybe we could all come over on Wednesday.”

“Maybe,” I said.

We stepped into the hallway. Everyone stopped talking. I could see that my
grandparents and parents were already sitting at the dining room table. Grammy
and Poppy liked to eat promptly. If their dinner came one minute late, it made
them real cranky for the rest of the day.

I ushered my friends out quickly, reminding them not to tell anyone about
what we’d been doing. Zack asked again if Wednesday would be okay, and again I
told him I wasn’t sure.

Getting invisible was really exciting, really thrilling. But it also made me
nervous. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it again so soon.

“Please!” Zack begged. He couldn’t wait to get invisible again and beat my
record. He couldn’t stand it that he wasn’t the champ.

I closed the front door behind them and hurried to the dining room to greet
my grandparents. They were already slurping their soup when I came in.

“Hi, Grammy. Hi, Poppy.” I walked around the table and gave them each a kiss
on the cheek. Grammy smelled of oranges. Her cheek felt soft and mushy.

Grammy and Poppy are the names I gave them when I was a kid. It’s really
embarrassing to call them that now, but I still do. I don’t have much choice.
They even call
each other
Grammy and Poppy!

They look alike, almost like brother and sister. I guess that’s what happens
when you’ve been married a hundred years. They both have long, thin faces and
short white hair. They both wear thick glasses with silver wire frames. They’re
both really skinny. And they both have sad eyes and sad expressions.

I didn’t feel like sitting there at dinner and making small talk with them
today. I was still really pumped about what we’d been doing all afternoon.

Being invisible was just so weird and exciting.

I wanted to be by myself and think about it. You know. Try to relive it,
relive what it felt like.

A lot of times after I’ve done something really exciting or interesting, I
like to go up to my room, lie down on my bed, and just think about it. Analyze
it. Tear it apart.

Dad says I have a very scientific mind. I guess he’s right.

I walked over to my place at the table.

“You’re looking much shorter,” Poppy said, wiping his mouth with his cloth
napkin. That was one of his standard jokes. He said it every time he saw me.

I forced a laugh and sat down.

“Your soup must be ice cold by now,” Grammy said, clicking her tongue.
“Nothing I hate more than cold soup. I mean, what’s the point of having soup if
it isn’t steaming hot?”

“It tastes okay,” I said, taking a spoonful.

“We had some delicious cold soup last summer,” Poppy said. He loved to
contradict Grammy and start arguments with her. “Strawberry soup, remember? You
wouldn’t want
that
hot, would you?”

“It wasn’t strawberry,” Grammy told him, frowning. “It wasn’t even soup. It
was some kind of fancy yogurt.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Poppy insisted. “It was definitely cold soup.”

“You’re wrong, as usual,” Grammy snapped.

This could get ugly, I thought. “What kind of soup is this?” I asked, trying to stop their arguing.

“Chicken noodle,” Mom answered quickly. “Didn’t you recognize it?”

“Poppy and I had soup a few weeks ago that we couldn’t recognize,” my
grandmother said, shaking her head. “I had to ask the waiter what it was. It
didn’t look like what we’d ordered at all. Some kind of potato-leek soup, wasn’t
it, Poppy?”

Poppy took a long time swallowing some noodles. “No. Tomato,” he answered.

“Where’s your brother?” Dad asked, staring at the empty chair next to me.

“Huh?” I reacted with surprise. I had been so busy listening to my
grandparents’ silly soup arguments, I had forgotten all about Lefty.

“His soup is getting cold,” Poppy said.

“You’ll have to heat it up for him,” Grammy said, tsk-tsking again.

“So where is he?” Dad asked.

I shrugged. “He was right behind me,” I said. I turned toward the dining room
doorway and shouted, “Lefty!
Lef-teeeee!”

“Don’t shout at the table,” Mom scolded. “Get up and go find him.”

“Is there any more soup?” Poppy asked. “I didn’t really get enough.”

I put my napkin down and started to get up. But before I was out of my chair,
I saw Lefty’s soup bowl rise up into the air.

Oh, no! I thought.

I knew instantly what was happening.

My idiot brother had made himself invisible, and now he thought he was being
funny, trying to scare the daylights out of everyone at the table.

The soup bowl floated up over Lefty’s place.

I stood up and lunged for it and pulled it down as fast as I could.

“Get out!” I whispered loudly to Lefty.

“What did you say?” my mom asked, gaping at me.

“I said I’m getting out and going to find Lefty,” I told her, thinking
quickly.

“Get out—now!” I whispered to Lefty.

“Stop talking about finding him. Just go do it,” my mom said impatiently.

I stood up just as my dumb invisible brother raised his water glass. The
glass floated up over the table.

I gasped and grabbed for it.

But I grabbed too hard. I jerked the glass, and water spilled all over the
table.

“Hey!” Mom screamed.

I pulled the glass down to its place.

Then I looked up. Dad was glaring at me, his eyes burning angrily into mine.

He knows, I thought, a heavy feeling of dread sweeping over me.

He saw what just happened, and he knows.

Lefty has spoiled it for everyone.

Dad glared angrily across the table at me.

I waited for him to say, “Max, why is your brother invisible?” But instead,
he yelled, “Stop fooling around, Max. We don’t appreciate your comedy act. Just
get up and find your brother.”

I was so relieved. Dad hadn’t realized what was really happening, after all.
He thought I was just goofing.

“Is there seconds on the soup?” I heard Poppy ask again as I gratefully
pushed away from the table and hurried out of the dining room.

“You’ve had enough,” Grammy scolded.

“No, I haven’t!”

I made my way quickly through the living room, taking long strides, climbed
to the second floor, and stopped in the hallway at the door to the attic stairs.
“Lefty?” I whispered. “I hope you followed me.”

“I’m here,” Lefty whispered back. I couldn’t see him, of course, but he was
right beside me.

“What’s the big idea?” I demanded angrily. I wasn’t angry. I was
furious.
“Are you trying to win the
stupid
championship?”

Lefty didn’t care that I was upset. He started to giggle.

“Shut up!” I whispered. “Just shut up! You really are a dork!”

I clicked on the attic light and clomped angrily up the stairs. I could hear
his sneakers clomping up behind mine.

He was still giggling at the top of the stairs. “I win!” he declared. I felt
a hand slap me hard on the back.

“Stop it, jerk!” I screamed, storming into the little room that housed the
mirror. “Don’t you realize you nearly spoiled it for everybody?”

“But I win!” he repeated gleefully.

The lamp over the mirror was shining brightly, the reflection glaring
sun-yellow in the mirror.

I really couldn’t believe Lefty. He was usually a pretty selfish kid. But not
this
selfish!

“Don’t you realize the trouble you could have gotten us into?” I cried.

“I win! I win!” he chanted.

“Why? How long have you been invisible?” I asked. I stepped up to the mirror
and pulled the string. The light went out. The glare remained in my eyes.

“Ever since you guys went downstairs,” Lefty, still invisible, bragged.

“That’s almost ten minutes!” I exclaimed.

“I’m the champ!” Lefty proclaimed.

I stared into the mirror, waiting for him to reappear.

“The stupidity champ,” I repeated. “This was the dumbest thing you’ve ever
done.”

He didn’t say anything. Finally, he asked in a quiet voice, “Why is it taking
so long for me to come back?”

Before I could answer, I heard Dad calling from downstairs: “Max? Are you two
up there?”

“Yeah. We’ll be right down,” I shouted.

“What are you two
doing
up there?” Dad demanded. I heard him start to
climb the stairs.

I ran to the top of the stairs to head him off. “Sorry, Dad,” I said. “We’re
coming.”

Dad stared up at me in the stairwell. “What on earth is so interesting up
there?”

“Just a lot of old stuff,” I muttered. “Nothing, really.”

Lefty appeared behind me, looking like his old self. Dad disappeared back to
the dining room. Lefty and I started down the stairs.

“Wow, that was
awesome
!” Lefty exclaimed.

“Didn’t you start to feel weird after a while?” I asked him, whispering even
though we were alone.

“No.” He shook his head. “I felt fine. It was really
awesome
! You
should have seen the look on your face when I made the soup bowl float up in the air!” He started
giggling again, that high-pitched giggle of his that I hate.

“Listen, Lefty,” I warned, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, blocking his
way to the hallway. “Getting invisible is fun, but it could be dangerous. You—”

“It’s awesome!” he repeated. “And I’m the new champ.”

“Listen to me,” I said heatedly, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Just listen.
You’ve got to promise me that you won’t go up there and get invisible by
yourself again. I mean it. You’ve got to wait till someone else is around.
Promise?” I squeezed his shoulders hard.

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to squirm away. “I promise.”

I looked down. He had his fingers crossed on both hands.

Erin called me later that night. It was about eleven. I was in my pajamas,
reading a book in bed, thinking about going downstairs and begging my parents to
let me stay up and watch
Saturday Night Live.

Erin sounded really excited. She didn’t even say hello. Just started talking
a mile a minute in that squeaky mouse voice, so fast I had trouble understanding
her.

“What about the science fair?” I asked, holding the phone away from my ear,
hoping that would help me understand her better.

“The winning project,” Erin said breathlessly. “The prize is a silver trophy
and a gift certificate at Video World. Remember?”

“Yeah. So?” I still wasn’t following her. I think I was sleepier than I’d
thought. It had been a nervous, tiring day, after all.

“Well, what if you brought the mirror to school?” Erin asked excitedly. “You
know. I would make you go invisible. Then I’d bring you back, and I’d get
invisible. That could be our project.”

“But, Erin—” I started to protest.

“We’d win!” she interrupted. “We’d
have
to win! I mean, what else
could beat it? We’d win first prize. And we’d be famous!”

“Whoa!” I cried. “Famous?”

“Of course. Famous!” she exclaimed. “Our picture would be in
People
magazine and everything!”

“Erin, I’m not so sure about this,” I said softly, thinking hard.

“Huh? Not so sure about
what
?”

“Not so sure I want to be famous,” I replied. “I mean, I really don’t know if
I want the whole world to know about the mirror.”

“Why not?” she demanded impatiently. “
Everyone
wants to be famous. And
rich.”

“But they’ll take away the mirror,” I explained. “It’s an amazing thing,
Erin. I mean, is it magic? Is it electronic? Is it someone’s invention? Whatever
it is, it’s unbelievable! And they’re not going to let a kid keep it.”

“But it’s
yours
!” she insisted.

“They’ll take it away to study it. Scientists will want it. Government guys
will want it. Army guys. They’ll probably want to use it to make the army
invisible or something.”