Invisible Boy

Invisible Boy

by Cliff Burns

I hate it when she ties into me in front of the kid. He just stands there all bug-eyed while she reams me out.

"I won't—WILL NOT—have you smoking that shit in my house, in front of my son. Are you listening to me? Do...you...understand? You're not only screwing up your life and my life—what about his? There are other people around here, y'know. What's he supposed to think?" She points at Jeff but he just hangs his head.

"What's the big deal, Sal? It's only a joint for Chrissakes. What about all the times he's seen you so drunk you don't recognize him? I don't hear you talking about that."

"Don't you dare—" she starts to say.

"I'm just telling it like it us," I fire back.

"—insult me in front of my son. Don't you dare do that again, Ray. You'll be making the biggest mistake of your life." She puts her hand on Jeff's head; he looks really surprised that she's actually touching him.

"Oh, I see. Now he's your son. What about all those long windy speeches about how we're one big, happy family?"

"Ted would never have—"

And then I really blow my stack. "Ted, Ted, Ted. That fucker practically permeates this place. You still got pictures of him hanging up, you still call him at least once a month, rain or shine. But, hell, that's all right with me. I love helping Ma Bell out with a few marathon long distance phone calls. Jesus Christ, Sally, you've been separated for five years...and divorced for three. When are you gonna cut the cord? The guy's a jerk." I see Jeff flinch when I say it but it's said so I keep right on plugging. "He doesn't want to help support Jeff, doesn't even want any pictures of him, never sends any money at Christmas and here I am busting my hump to keep the fridge filled week in and week out and not getting any credit—"

"Jeff, go to your room," Sally says, cold as ice.

"He tried going to his room!" I bellow and Jeff twitches again. "But you decided to use him as a prop in this little show you're putting on."

She gives me THE LOOK. Yup, I'll be sleeping on the couch again tonight. Shouldn't have let the dope do the talking.

God, I feel bad for that kid. I go out of my way to avoid scraps with Sally but she just keeps picking at me and picking at me like I'm an itchy scab. And every time we fight she manages to get a few good ones in under the belt. Like that crack about Ted.

The dope was nothing. Hey, we've shared a joint lots of nights after Jeff's gone to bed. She really likes the stuff. Except every time she gets high she gets these wild cravings and we have to order out for pizza or Chinese food.

I got home from work and neither her or Jeff was around so I decided to roll myself a little number to help me unwind. I was finishing it off, listening to some BTO on the radio (cranked wayyyyy up) when her and Jeff walked in.

WHAM!

She'd had a rough day too and seeing me standing there with a roach burning between my fingers was enough to set her off. You should never sneeze in avalanche country, right?

On the way to his bedroom Jeff digs some comic books out of one of the shopping bags they carried in. As he shuffles down the hall his nose is already buried in the latest issue of Spiderman. Poor little bugger. Spidey's probably his best friend in the world. I'd like to go in and sit on the end of his bed, talk to him, maybe read through his comics with him— some of them are pretty good, y'know—but Sally starts yipping at me and I yap back and by the time we wear ourselves out it's after nine.