The Invisible Day

by Marthe Jocelyn

  They also have a special person who comes in to arrange the fruits and vegetables. My mom told us that this person is not a fruit expert but an artist, who knows how to enhance the beauty of one thing by placing it next to a certain other thing. I guess it does take a special eye to do that with potatoes and apples.

  Since I was so close, I thought I might as well go in and have a peek at the candy.

  The candy is displayed in huge glass canisters, so big that even the salesperson needs two hands to take the lids off. The gleaming jars hold chocolate-covered raisins, gum balls, sour balls, Jordan Almonds, Smarties, peppermints, toffees, and jelly beans in every color. When we go with my mother, she’ll let us have a treat about every third visit. She is very strict about sugar. Jane always picks bubble-gum-flavored jelly beans, and I always get malted milk balls.

  I stood next to the jar of malted milk balls, wondering how I could lift the lid without making it clink or disappear. There was a lady in a pink coat, waiting her turn, and a man with a mustache beside her.

  But the clerk was listening to another woman. She was wearing a white fur coat and complaining about something she bought last week.

  “I got two pounds of chocolate rosebuds, and they didn’t seem fresh to me.”

  “Well, madam, we’d be glad to replace them, but you need to bring in the candy you think was stale.”

  “Oh, well, I ate them. I forced myself to eat them. But they weren’t fresh. They didn’t seem fresh to me.”

  “I’m sorry, but unless you return the goods, we have no way of knowing …”

  “You can take my word for it. They weren’t fresh. I would like a refund.”

  “But you ate them!” The clerk was trying not to seem too exasperated, but I could tell it was not long until blastoff. I could also tell that this Fur Lady customer, with her flippy hair, was the type of person who usually gets her way. I stuck my tongue way out at her. The other people waiting were getting restless.

  “She’s going to eat the salesgirl in a minute,” the Pink Coat Lady murmured to her friend. I stifled my giggle.

  I gave up my dream of free malted milk balls. I was turning to leave when a teenaged boy bumped against Pink Coat, and I saw his hand slide into her pocket and come out with a pink wallet. He was down the aisle faster than I could even see his face. But I saw the wart on his thumb and a rope bracelet.

  “Hey!” I shouted and started to run after him.

  “What’s going on?” I could hear the voices behind me. I raced to the door, but the guy must have had wings. He was nowhere. I went back inside, with my heart pumping in my throat.

  The people had heard me shout and seen the guy running, but since they couldn’t see me and I couldn’t tell them what had happened, they were all just standing around doing nothing. At least the Fur Coat Lady had given up and moved on. But the Pink Coat Lady didn’t even know yet that she’d been robbed. She was ordering dried apricots and the clerk was filling a bag! She was going to get to the cash register and be totally humiliated. I couldn’t bear to watch.

  I left the store, burning with frustration. Okay, I admit I swiped a snack today, and I even admit it was fun. But actually putting your hand into someone’s pocket, that’s just rude and bad.

  My mother has tried to teach me that no problem is too great to solve, but I honestly couldn’t figure out what to do. Here I was, with superpowers, and that’s what stopped me from saving the day! If I were visible, I could have been a witness and given a description and maybe they would have caught the guy. Or then again, maybe I just would have been in trouble for not being in school.

  I felt terrible. I was about to steal candy and then this happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. I jammed my foot against the curb. And then again. I stood there kicking the concrete for about five minutes, imagining the robber’s rear end was under my sneaker.

  I wanted to tell somebody what I’d seen. If only I could have tripped the guy, I wouldn’t feel like such a loser.

  I wanted to tell my mom, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to tell Hubert. Oh, my God, I told Hubert I would be back in an hour! It was way longer than an hour! He would be going nuts! And what if he didn’t get my backpack from Alyssa? What if she found the powder and stuff?

  I started to gallop. Suddenly it seemed urgent that I get back to school.

  Ms. Shephard was sitting at her desk, scratching her ear, as though nothing had happened at all. The clock in the front hall said 11:34. My class has Early Lunch. I headed for the cafeteria.

  9 • Voice Tricks

  Sure enough, Hubert was sitting at Table Six with Charley and Josh. His plate was nearly empty, and he was stirring leftover tortellini with his fork in a definite “I’m finished” motion.

  I stood beside the disposal chute, anticipating his next move. As he tipped the plate, I gently grabbed his wrist. He screamed. I mean, a boy scream. More like a squawk. Everyone in the cafeteria stopped moving to look at Hubert, just as he figured out it was me.

  “Ooops!” he said with a silly laugh. “I thought I saw a dead rat in the chute.”

  “Ooooooh gross!” the chorus jeered.

  Hubert yanked his arm away from me and scraped his plate. He stomped up the stairs.

  “I’m sorry, Hubert.” I tried to pat his shoulder, but he was going too fast.

  “Hubert, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He stopped short and I crashed into him.

  “You didn’t scare me. You just made everybody look at me.” His voice was tight. “And where have you been, anyway? You said an hour, Billie, and it’s been over two!”

  “Did you get my pack?”

  “Well, I know where it is, anyway,” he muttered. “Alyssa said she’s not giving it back unless she gives it to you, and she says you owe her for not snitching that you’re skipping school, and she says when your mom gets back after lunch you are going to be dead meat.”

  He didn’t even try to look at me. He was staring at the floor like it was hard to keep talking.

  “Hubert—”

  “Shhh!”

  Noise behind me in the stairwell signaled kids coming up from the cafeteria. Hubert bent over to tie his shoelace as an excuse for standing there like a goof. We waited for half the third grade to go by, with me crushed against the railing and Hubert retying his lace about four times. It gave me time to think.

  “Okay, Hubert, I’ve got a new plan. I just have to figure out where to do it.”

  “What’s your idea, Billie? Not anything stupid, I hope, because I’m not really having fun today, even if you are. And where were you, anyway?”

  “Oh, Hubert, so much happened. I’ll tell you later, but right now, we have to do something. Come on.” I put my fingers around his wrist, as gently as I could, and led him to the main hall.

  Our timing was perfect. My mother was shepherding the second-graders through the front doors. I felt a little rush of happiness to see her. She’s not exactly pretty, but she does have a nice smile. It makes her eyes crinkle up and look shiny.

  “We have to make her hear me, Hubert, even though she doesn’t see me. If she hears my voice, she’ll think I’m here.”

  The bell rang for the afternoon classes.

  All the kids in my mother’s group were heading up the stairs to their room. The library is in the basement, next to the cafeteria, so I figured she would be heading downstairs.

  I put my lips right next to Hubert’s ear, like a mosquito.

  “As soon as she moves, start calling to me.”

  My mother turned toward the library stairs without glancing our way.

  “Hey, Billie, wait up!” cried Hubert, in a ridiculous voice.

  “You can’t catch me, Hubert!” I called, as if I’d ducked around the corner. “You’ll be late, Hubert, you better hurry!”

  “Hubert!” My mother scolded as she turned around. “Tell that daughter of mine to calm down. You both know better than to shout in the hallways.”

  �
�Yes, ma’am,” said Hubert eagerly. He was so proud of our performance.

  I followed him to class. I had to get my backpack. We were a few minutes late. Ms. Maloney, the sub, already had everybody seated on the carpet for a meeting. Hubert squeezed in next to Sarah, and I stood by the door, leaning against the frame.

  Ms. Maloney borrowed a Mets baseball cap from David C. to put in the middle of the rug. She had cut up a class list and now put all the slips of paper into the hat.

  “Okay, kids,” she said, “Ms. McPhee asked me to do this today because she knows you’ll need all week to work on your Small World assignments. This is the big moment. Each of you will have a turn to pull a name from the hat and read it aloud. The person whose name is on the paper will then tell us his or her country. Then that person will pick the next name. I know that Ms. McPhee suggested that you should each have a second choice ready in case your first choice gets taken by someone else. I can’t listen to any disputes. This is the system that Ms. McPhee recommended, leaving it to plain old chance. If there’s a problem, you’ll have to talk to her about it. We’ll have our first research period right after the selections. Does everybody understand?”

  They all murmured yes. I wasn’t worried about not choosing today. I was pretty sure that nobody else would think of Liechtenstein. It doesn’t exactly jump off the map.

  “Okay, David, since it’s your hat, you choose the first name.”

  David drew Renée, and Renée picked France because she went there last summer with her aunt. Renée drew Josh, and Josh picked the Dominican Republic because he loves baseball and that’s where the best players come from. Then Josh drew Alyssa. She tilted her head to one side and coyly made her announcement.

  “I have chosen to do my Small World project about China,” said Alyssa.

  I gagged. Everyone was looking at Hubert, but of course Hubert was looking at the floor. Ms. Maloney was sharp enough to know that something was wrong with this picture.

  “Why did you choose China, Alyssa?” she asked.

  “Well,” said Alyssa earnestly, “China is a very important country because it has the largest population in the world. I think it’s going to play a big part in the next ten years of international politics, and I’d like to find out more about it.”

  “We’ll look forward to your report, Alyssa. Thank you.” Alyssa sat there with her eyes flashing in triumph. She reached for the name slips and warbled out, “Charley,” while I stood there wanting to spit. Hubert looked in my direction from across the circle and slowly crossed his eyes.

  Charley picked Australia. Nina picked Greenland. Hubert picked Bali. He said later he didn’t have a second choice ready. Bali is the name of a place his mother says she’d like to run away to sometimes, and it just popped into his head.

  10 • Story Time

  I was so mad I left the room. I trailed down the stairs to the library, punching the wall along the way.

  Even though she couldn’t help me, I sort of wanted to be near my mother. I sat in the corner next to the window, with my feet scrunched up under me. I wanted to strangle Alyssa. How can someone always be so mean?

  My mother was browsing in the picture book section. She was wearing the blue plaid shirt that I like. Better than her striped one, anyway.

  After a couple of minutes, I heard the giggles and whispers of the kindergarten kids. It was Jane’s class coming for Reading Time. My mother was going to read them a story.

  It took a few minutes to get everyone settled on the green mat. I could only see my mother’s back. Jane was curled up next to her. The other kids were all watching with complete attention. They call her Ms. Stoner, and they think that everything she says is true and smart. No wonder she likes this job so much.

  She held up the book to show them the first picture. It was Millions of Cats. I used to love that book. It’s almost like poetry, the way “hundreds and thousands and millions of cats” gets repeated in a chant. I loved the way my mother’s voice sounded saying it over and over. I closed my eyes and listened. I could remember snuggling up to her, just like Jane. Lying on the navy corduroy couch at home, begging her to read it again.

  What if I don’t come back? What if I really don’t? The thought entered my head and stayed there, gnawing. I wanted to run over and hug my mother. I wanted to put my head in her lap and let her stroke my hair. I silently apologized for every rude thing I’d ever said to her.

  And what if I do come back? I wouldn’t be able to tell her what happened. It would be a secret from her forever. My mother wouldn’t really see all of me from then on. My life would be more and more away from her as I got older. And what about her? Do I ever see her? Or is she invisible because she’s just my mom? I was feeling dizzy from all this thinking. I admit, my eyes got hot and my nose was stinging, I was trying so hard not to cry.

  I put my palms flat across my eyes and breathed slowly. I suppose if I waited long enough, the powder would wear off, but how long would it be? There must be a solution. I would go and get Hubert. Together we would find a cure! I would get the antidote for my condition. Like an explorer in the jungle with a snakebite.

  I opened my eyes and caught my breath. Alyssa was leaning against the table. She slammed down a stack of books about China. She pulled out a chair with a scraping sound, dropping my backpack, as well as her own, onto the floor between us. She sat next to me with a thump.

  My mother turned around and shot her a warning glare. Alyssa made a snooty face behind her back. I had to sit on my hands so I wouldn’t smack her. Then she flipped open the top-most book and started to write on her notepad. She looked back and forth between her page and the book and kept steadily writing. It took only a minute to figure out that she was copying, word for word, everything in the book. I could tell she wasn’t even reading the words. She probably didn’t know what she’d just written.

  Suddenly I was determined to get revenge.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Hubert, but I was trapped by Alyssa and her pile of books. I sat there, as quietly as I could, trying to come up with a plan. This was one bad guy I intended to catch!

  The bell rang in the distance of stairs and corridors. My mother ushered the little kids into the hallway. Jane held on for an extra minute, but my mother managed to peel her arms away and send her off with the others.

  Hubert poked his nose around the corner. He was coming to look for me. I tried to think how I could let him know I was there. He saw my pack at the same moment that he saw Alyssa. She looked at him with disdain.

  “Excuse me, Bertie,” she sneered. “I just have to reshelve these books on China.” She stood up and pushed past him. I quickly leaned over and poked his shoulder.

  “Aah!” he cried.

  “What?” Alyssa stopped to stare at him.

  “You did a very bad thing,” said Hubert. He was showing me he could stand up for himself.

  “You did a very bad thing,” mimicked Alyssa. “Ooooh. You scare me. What are you going to do to me, Bertie? Blow a bubble in my face?” She fake-laughed over to the card file.

  My mother chose that moment to come around the stacks.

  “Alyssa Morgan, I’ve had enough of your noise today. Hubert, is everything all right?”

  “Sure.” His eyes skipped around the library, wanting to warn me, but my mother had spotted my backpack.

  “Isn’t that Billie’s?” she asked, picking it up. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. Not with a huge STONER in liquid-gold marker on the back pocket and twelve keychains hanging from the zipper.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Hey,” interrupted Alyssa. “I was looking after that for Billie.” She stepped closer and reached past Hubert for it.

  “I haven’t seen anything of Billie today,” said my mother in that jolly voice she uses when she thinks she’s missing something. She was still holding on to the backpack. My key-chain collection jingled slightly.

  “I haven’t seen much of her myself,” said Hubert. I wanted to kick him. “Bu
t I’ll take her pack, Ms. Stoner. I’ll be seeing her any minute.”

  “You haven’t seen her,” said Alyssa to my mother, “because she’s not here. She hasn’t been here all day.”

  11 • Phone Call

  I didn’t wait to see what my mother’s face looked like. I was out the door before my next breath.

  “Hey, Alyssa!” I called from the hallway, “Sarah’s looking for you.”

  I popped my head back in.

  “There she is now,” said my mother. Alyssa’s story was too unlikely to consider. “Shouting again. Hubert, when you catch up to her, please tell her I’d like to see her.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Alyssa was shocked to hear my voice, and she started directly toward me to investigate. Hubert tried to follow, armed with a new sense of bravery.

  “Hubert?” My mother handed him my backpack. “And Hubert? It’s not right to chew gum in school. It’s distracting for the other students.”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. He took his gum out and wrapped it in a piece of paper. She smiled at him and went back to her desk.

  I was waiting by the door.

  “Come to the phone booth,” I muttered as we watched Alyssa’s rear end wobble up the stairs. “It is time for desperate measures.”

  The public telephone is in an old closet opposite the front door in the main hall.

  “Come in quick,” I hissed, trying to drag him in beside me without Ms. Shephard craning her neck to notice. He closed the door. We were a snug fit.

  “Hubert! You were brilliant. You kept your cool and you saved the day!” I was feeling kind of fond of him. “And thank you for getting my backpack! Now give it to me. We have to find the person who belongs to the little bag.”