The Invisible Harry

by Marthe Jocelyn

  “Jane,” said Jody, “why don’t you get him a drink of water after his ordeal?”

  “What should I put it in?” asked Jane, hopping to her feet in a flash.

  “Use one of the cereal bowls,” I suggested. “You know, with the blue stripe.”

  She scurried away to the kitchen.

  “So,” said Jody, as if she’d been waiting for us to be alone. “Did you ask your mother? Can you keep him?”

  “She doesn’t want a pet,” I said, feeling forlorn as my fingers rested on the puppy’s silky head. “She just doesn’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  “That stinks,” said Jody. “But it’s typical of a parent. To say no without even trying. They always accuse us of not trying, like with Gorgonzola cheese or something disgusting, but really they’re the ones with rigid rules. You’re only asking to love an animal. My mother is just the same way. She lets Pepper live with us because my dad was the one who got her, but the puppies? Forget it. I’m just going to have to make them disappear somewhere….”

  “Disappear? You mean really disappear?”

  “Well, actually, I meant ‘go away,’ you know, to a shelter or a pet shop, but now that you mention it …” Her eyes got bright, and she grinned a big, shiny grin.

  “How much do you think your mother would mind having a pet she couldn’t see?”

  5 • Harry Houdini

  Jane came inching back into the room, trying to keep the bowl level. “Is the puppy hungry, Jody?” she asked eagerly. “Can we feed him? What does he like to eat?”

  “I brought him some of his PuppySnack, Jane, if you want to give him a treat.” Jody pulled a foil package out of her shoulder bag and gave it to Jane.

  “Just one or two, though. We don’t want him to get sick.”

  “I’m hungry, too,” said Jane as she watched the puppy chomp on his cookie.

  I went to Dad’s kitchen and found the potato chips and some cheddar cheese and green grapes. We had a picnic on the floor while the puppy tried to climb our knees.

  Jody told us about her project for the science fair.

  “After countless experiments with layers of reflective substances, I developed a formula for solar popcorn. It really works, too, except that it takes about two hours of serious sunshine to get a bowl of popcorn, and most people don’t think about snacking that far in advance. But it works, so I’ll probably win.”

  I crumbled cheese in my fingers and let the puppy lick it off.

  I told Jody about the medieval pageant we were preparing for at school. We’d been making the costumes for weeks in art, painting tabards on brown paper and forming shields out of papier-mâché and hooking together soda pop caps for chain mail.

  “It sounds mighty,” said Jody. “We never have fun at our school. ‘It’s too distracting from the serious matter of education.’” She was imitating someone I was glad not to know.

  “Oh, my God, it’s late, Jane. What if your dad comes home and you’re not even in your pajamas? It’s after nine-thirty! You have to go to bed!”

  Jane immediately performed her finest imitation of a sick cat, but Jody insisted that the puppy was tired and had to go to sleep right away. She took him into the bathroom and closed the door.

  I lay down next to Jane on the sofa bed and snuggled her the way my mother does if she can’t get to sleep. This means that she tucked her freezing cold feet between my legs and used my arm for an extra pillow. I sang “Hush, Little Baby” until she told me to shut up because my breath was tickling her ear. When she finally fell asleep, I had to take my arm out from under her head in the most careful maneuver possible.

  Jody was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, reading one of my dad’s Fine Home Building magazines. I don’t know when he thinks he’s going to build a fine home, but he has enough issues to wallpaper the bathroom.

  The puppy was asleep on the mat, curled up like a dog on a greeting card.

  “Well?” asked Jody. “Are you ready? Should we do it? I have the powder in my bag. You know it works.”

  That’s for sure. I am an expert in that department. The way I met Jody was because I found her makeup bag in Central Park. Before I found her to give it back, I tried the powder in the compact, and, believe it or not, I disappeared. I’m not kidding, I swear. I totally vanished. It was one of Jody’s secret formulas. She is a science genius.

  And being invisible was amazing. For one thing, I went outside in New York City by myself! The hard part was not being able to tell anyone, except Hubert. And I sort of missed my mother after a while.

  But that wouldn’t bother a dog….

  “Ummm,” I said, “I’m thinking….”

  It was just too easy. My mother wouldn’t have to know for a while. By then, I could prove that I’m ready to have a pet. I could keep it in my room and take it for walks. I could even take it to school. I could buy food with my allowance. And I would have this sweet, fuzzy dog baby for my very own.

  “Okay,” I said. “Go for it!”

  “Hurrah!” whooped Jody. “I love a brave move.” She dove into her bag and pulled out her makeup case.

  “Ooooh!” I cried in recognition.

  Jody smiled at me. “Feeling nostalgic?” she asked.

  “Wait a minute!” I had thought of something. “What about, you know, what about, um … poop? Is the poop invisible? And how am I going to know when he wants to go?”

  “He’s almost totally trained,” Jody assured me. “He’ll mostly only do it outside, on the curb. And I remember with Pepper, when I was testing the stuff on her, the poop stays invisible until it, uh, cools off. About two minutes. Then you can see it, and you just use newspaper or a bag, like with a regular dog. I’ll give you the rest of the PuppySnack, so you’re set.”

  I rubbed my nose between his ears and gave the little speckled nose a good-bye kiss. Then, I sat back on my heels, giving Jody room to work. She was swift and efficient. Using toilet paper as a tool, she daubed powder across the puppy’s head, around his fluffy neck, and then down his body and tail.

  Within seconds, he went all shimmery, just the way it had been with me. It was like I was wearing my mom’s reading glasses. And a minute later, he was gone, and we were looking at Dad’s royal blue bathroom carpet where my new pet used to be.

  “Hey,” said Jody as she put away her equipment, “you never picked a name.”

  I reached out to make sure he was still there. When my fingers found him, I stroked his invisible back.

  “I think I’ll call him Harry,” I whispered, feeling a bit awed by the magic. “After the greatest disappearing magician of all time, Harry Houdini. His name is Harry.”

  “That’s good,” said Jody. “Harry.”

  We decided to get into ready-position in case Dad came home. Harry woke up when I moved him to the sofa bed, and he began to whimper. While I put on my pajamas, he kept on whining and crying.

  “Why are you so sad, little guy?” I patted his furriness, telling him that everything would be okay.

  “Maybe he misses his mother,” suggested Jody.

  “What should we do?”

  “In the books they say to put him in a cozy place and put a clock next to him. The ticking is supposed to sound like a dog mother’s heartbeat.”

  I glanced around the apartment.

  “The only clock my father has is the digital clock radio next to his bed.”

  Jody laughed. “Somehow I don’t think that Z-100 will perform the same service.”

  “I know!” I said. I lay down on the sofa bed with my back to Jane, and Harry snuggled on my chest, under the blanket. He stopped crying almost at once. He felt like a hot water bottle and a teddy bear in one. I was in heaven.

  Jody sat on the floor with a biography of Marie Curie across her knees. I guess I dozed off. I vaguely remember Jody saying good-bye. I remember Dad telling her she was a real find and that we’d call her again soon.

  And I remember thinking that Harry’s snuffles were the sweetest
sound I’d ever heard.

  6 • The Brunch Test

  Hi! My name is Patrick, and I’m your waiter this morning! Eggs Florentine is the brunch special today, along with freshly baked pumpkin muffins. Can I get you some coffee to start, sir?”

  My dad ordered cappuccino, and I got orange juice. Jane had to get water because she hates those little pip things in fresh-squeezed juice, which is the only kind you can get at the places Dad takes us. Then I thought about Harry in the backpack at my feet, and I ordered an extra water.

  Of course, getting Harry into the backpack had been a bit of a challenge.

  In my first conscious minute, I felt him lick my face and knead my chest with his paws and flap his tail back and forth across my arm like a flyswatter. This is a lot of activity to wake up to. Especially to pretend that all this motion was coming from me.

  Jane was rubbing her eyes and watching me with curiosity. It would be a disaster for Jane to know about Harry.

  I put a pillow over her face and used the three seconds before she pulled it off, screaming, to leap from the bed with Harry in my arms and head for the bathroom, dragging my backpack full of clothes with my foot.

  While I was getting dressed, I could hear Harry’s panting, as regular as a raspy clock. I fed him most of the PuppySnack. And just while I was wondering if I could teach Harry to pee in the toilet, I stepped in a puddle and realized he had taken care of the problem for this morning. “Almost totally trained,” I heard Jody’s voice in my head. “Mostly only outside.” It took half a roll of toilet paper (and six flushes) to dry the floor.

  Harry was very involved in the cleanup. He kept bumping into me and getting caught between my feet. Soggy bits of toilet paper, stuck to Harry’s paws, seemed to be dancing by themselves on the tiles.

  Then suddenly, he made a weird little growl in his throat, and I smelled something I hope never to be quite so close to again.

  “Harry!” I moaned. But I couldn’t move because I didn’t know where he’d made the drop. I sat as still as the toilet until I could see a faint pile of poop appearing under the sink— thankfully nowhere near the rug.

  “Billie!” wailed Jane. “It’s my turn.”

  “One second!”

  I took another roll of paper from the cupboard and scooped the mound into the toilet. One final flush, and one long spray of Natural Citrus Atomizer to clear the air.

  “That was completely disgusting, Harry,” I scolded in a whisper.

  He whimpered.

  I cleaned off his paws and picked him up. “But I still love you.” I rolled my cheek against his dear invisible ears and then shoveled him into my pack, despite the feet going every which way. I left the top zipper open in case he wanted to poke his face out. It seemed like he was little enough to fit with room to spare.

  I could have eaten breakfast four times by the time the drinks came. I don’t know why we can’t just have cereal at Dad’s house, but this brunch thing is his idea of living it up. Maybe because my mom thinks breakfast should be eaten at home, wearing pajamas, he automatically does the opposite.

  Jane had torn off the corner of a sugar packet and was quietly dipping her finger in and then licking it. Dad was reading the Arts & Leisure section of the Sunday paper. Harry must have been asleep inside my pack, because he was very still.

  I slid the saucer from under the creamer and casually slipped it onto my lap. Jane was instantly on alert.

  “Dad!” she said in her informative voice. “Billie …”

  I eyeballed the sugar packet and gave her a warning squint.

  “Dad!” I said as a diversionary tactic.

  “Mmmmm?” He turned a page.

  “Did you put anything in your hair? I mean, it looks like you used cement or something. It hasn’t moved.”

  I gently shifted the saucer to the floor.

  “Oh, no! You can tell? I tried something new.” He was patting his head in a panic, looking in the mirror behind me, trying to ruffle up his hair.

  I quickly poured the water from my glass into Harry’s saucer.

  “I think it looks nice, Daddy,” said Jane. “You look like a man in a magazine.”

  Harry barked.

  I jumped half out of my chair. It was the first time he’d made a noise. And even though it was just a little bitty baby bark, it was still a very doglike noise. I had completely forgotten about this particular problem.

  Jane and Dad were staring at me.

  “Woof,” I barked, as best I could. Dad raised an eyebrow, and Jane looked under the table. She sat back up and wrinkled her nose at me.

  “Meow?” I tried as I slipped a PuppySnack out of my pocket and dropped it by my sneaker.

  Jane grinned. “R-R-Roar!” Now it was a game.

  Dad glanced around at the other brunchers and glared at us.

  “Can we save the animal noises for the park, girls?”

  “Sure, Dad,” I agreed. “I was just making conversation.”

  The food came. Jane and I both had waffles. It’s kind of a test to see how many times we can ask for more syrup before my dad gets fed up.

  I now know that Harry loves waffles. He stood up on his back legs, scratching my knees with his paws, begging for food.

  I started to hum, to cover the panting. I felt like a grain elevator, passing chunks down to him every twenty seconds. He ate half my breakfast, and nobody noticed. Except my stomach.

  No offense to Dad, but he’s not completely aware of his surroundings at all times. That might be why he’s a great artist; he can create a beautiful idea in his mind while he’s doing the dishes. Even though it sometimes feels like he’s just not paying attention.

  But I knew the real test of Harry’s life would be my mother.

  7 • It Followed Her to School One Day

  The problem with staying at Dad’s house, way up there on 104th Street, is that we had to get up when it was practically still dark to be at school on time. But having only one clothing option cut down Jane’s preparations by about an hour, so that helped. Plus, the motherly concept of serving a nourishing breakfast is way too humdrum for Dad. We just ducked into Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to the subway and picked up a few Munchkins for the long ride.

  Of course, today I had the small extra problem of Harry. The morning routine was pretty much the same as yesterday, except that I only had to deal with pee and not poop. Dad was running out of toilet paper. And I didn’t have any PuppySnack left.

  “Oh, Harry,” I said, making a cradle with my arms and burrowing my face into his fur. “I solemnly promise to get you more food as soon as I can.”

  He understood because he licked me.

  Money. I was going to need more money than usual.

  “Dad,” I said on the train, “you forgot to give us our allowance. Saturday is allowance day.”

  “Your mother usually does allowance, doesn’t she?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but she forgot, and we were with you on Saturday.”

  Jane opened her big mouth. “But she gave—”

  “That was last week, Jane,” I said firmly. “You’re mixed up.”

  “Okay,” said Dad. “How much is it? You get five?”

  “Uh-huh, and Jane gets three.”

  “Yeah, I get three, Daddy.” She was a quick learner.

  He pulled out his wallet and counted out the bills.

  “Let me look after yours, Jane,” I offered. “I have a pocket with a zipper.”

  She was about to say, “No way,” but Dad agreed, and I was suddenly eight dollars richer. Very smooth, I thought proudly. Now I can feed my baby!

  Outside the school was the usual crowd. Kids waiting till the last minute to go inside. A homeless man named Clifton, who always does the daily crossword puzzle leaning against the railing. A teenager walking by with about seven dogs on leads. A few mothers debating where they should go for coffee.

  Dad kissed us good-bye.

  “See you this afternoon, girls. Jane, you’re going home wi
th Katie, right? And Billie, I’ll see you here at three-fifteen.”

  “Bye, Dad. Good luck with your presentation. I hope they like the new name stuff. Love you …”

  Harry was starting to wriggle. I had to take Jane to her classroom, but I didn’t want to take Harry, too, while he was so jumpy. Hubert, my savior, appeared at just the right moment.

  “Hubert, do me a favor. Hold my backpack while I zoom up with Jane. Whatever you do, don’t put it down!” I handed it over, grabbed Jane’s hand, and turned to run.

  “Hey! Good morning to you, too!” he called after me.

  Jane wanted to show me her animal projects, so I had to coo over her beaver dam for a couple of minutes before I could gallop back to find Hubert.

  He was lurking by the water fountain outside our class.

  “Billie!” He has a knack of yelling and whispering at the same time. “You better tell me what’s going on. There’s something alive in here!”

  He held my pack high in the air. Together we watched it jiggle and lurch as Harry tried to adjust to standing in midair.

  “Yes, Billie,” said a horribly familiar voice behind us. “Why don’t you tell us what’s in your backpack?”

  My stomach jumped and fell.

  It was Alyssa, my arch enemy.

  8 • Close Call

  She was staring up at my pack with wheels of evil spinning in her brain. If she found out about Harry, I would be dog food.

  “Ha, ha, ha, good joke, Hubert!” I shouted. “You are really getting good at this magic illusion stuff!”

  I distinctly heard a small, frightened bark. I snatched my pack out of his hands and spun around to bump smack into Mr. Donaldson.

  My face actually hit his chest. One of his buttons pressed into my forehead. His shirt smelled like meadow-scented fabric softener. How embarrassing!

  “Oh, my God!” I heard Hubert say softly, under Alyssa’s squeaky cackle. Harry’s paws were scratching the inside of my bag.