A Cup of Coffee
"So where do we go?" Emma asks me. I shrug. I don't really have anywhere to go for the next couple of hours, but I think that maybe bringing this anomalous woman back to my flat isn't an option just yet. I think to offer to take her for coffee, but how am I going to deal with seeing a coffee cup and cigarette dodging around in midair? Am I going to see the coffee once she drinks it? Am I going to encounter any other problems relating to my physical perceptions of the world around me? As exciting as all of this is, my rational mind is having trouble making a decision about what happens next.
"Coffee?" I say anyway, because I don't have a better idea. Whatever else is going on, I can deal with it. Besides, I could probably use the caffeine at this point. "I guess I should ask if you have any prior engagements first." Emma laughs a little.
"Well, we both seem to be here under some kind of supernatural circumstance. You're glowing, I'm invisible, the rest of the world doesn't seem to notice, and you want some Starbucks?" There's no way I'm backing down from this challenge.
"You've got a better idea?
"I was going to say ice cream, actually." I hear another disembodied laugh from the seat next to me. I'm still wondering how I'm going to deal with that situation. I mean, does the cone disappear when she takes it, or what? The licenses didn't disappear.
"Emma, what are you wearing?" My reply comes in a giggle. Then a pause.
"You're putting me on, right?"
"Well, I can't see you, and I can't get over the fact that I can't see your license anymore. What you said before--about not seeing your purse but seeing your license--do me a favor, okay?"
"Okay..."
"What kind of shoes do you have on?"
"Sneakers."
"Can you slip out of one of them really quickly?"
"Why?"
"Because I saw your license when you handed it to me. I want to see if the same thing happens with another one of your belongings." Just as I say it, something drops into my lap. I look down to see a tattered blue sneaker. "Oh man, that's not fair. I didn't see it."
"You can't see it?"
"I can see it now--but I didn't watch it appear. Here, take it back." I hold up the shoe, watching it with intensity as I feel Emma pull it out of my hands. As soon as I let go, the shoe flings itself down to the floor of the bus. When I lean over to watch it slide under the seat, my head hits something hard and I hear a yelp.
"Watch what you're doing!" Emma says. "I know you can't see me, but I'm taking up half of this seat, you know?" I pull my head back and watch the seat cushion shift around under Emma's weight--something I didn't notice before. Now that I have, I can't draw my focus away from it. "That hurt bad," Emma continues. "and what are you looking at now?" The way I'm sitting and looking at the seat cushion, my face is probably uncomfortably close to her midsection.
"Sorry, sorry...it's just, I can see your--I mean I can see you pushing the seat down. I didn't realize that before." I snap out of it and look in front of me. "I was trying to watch your shoe disappear. I didn't mean to headbutt you."
"So you can't see anything on me until I take it off," she says. "Okay. Now what we need to do is find out if other people can see me. We should go to a restaurant." I think I feel her lean in at this point, because I'm shifting back toward the window, repelled by Emma's warmth. "You're fine," she laughs. "I promise not to headbutt you--I'm just trying to see where we are." I feel a hand on my shoulder, and now I can sense her close to me. "You said coffee--how about a diner breakfast?" I shrug, trying to deal with the conflicting sensations between my eyes and my skin.
"Works for me. What's the plan?"
"Let's get off. I know a place one block down from here." As the bus slows to a stop, the curves in the seat cushion disappear and I feel a tug on my shirt. I let Emma lead as we got off the bus and start walking. "Sorry about pulling you--I figured it would be easier than following my voice." For a second I thought about reaching down and fumbling for her invisible hand, but I figured that missing my mark could cause a misunderstanding, so I just say it.
"You could have grabbed my hand." With conviction, too. No stumbling over that one. I figure if you can't be brave in a pseudo-dream situation with a girl you can't see...and my thoughts are cut off by pressure and warmth clasped around my right palm. Silence again, and there's no doubt in my mind that she's smiling. "Better?" I ask, looking down at my hand.
"Much better," she says, leading me forward. As we walk around to the other side of the block, a person coming in the other direction not only dodges me, but also the space that Emma's taking up.
"You saw that, right?" I say as the woman we passed is well enough away.
"Saw what?"
"Well, that lady just got out of your way. She can see you," I say. Emma laughs.
"I'm just going along with all of this until I can prove to myself that you're not real," she says, leading me around the corner and into the diner's double doors.
"Emmaline!" Says a man from behind the counter as we entered. The only others in this tiny diner are two old men drinking coffee at the counter, arguing over some kind of trade union issue. When the man behind the counter grabs two menus, I look nervously over at where I expect Emma's head to be. "How have you been, my dear?"
"I've been great. Cyril, this is my friend TJ. TJ, Cyril." I shake the tall man's hand. He's old, probably seventy, but he's mobile and lively.
"Good to meet you, TJ." He says, shaking my hand and patting me on the back. In a sort of faux-aside move that I've seen grandparents do, he pulls me a step to the left and says: "Good to see this one with a nice boy, eh?"
"Give me a break, Cyril." Emma says as I'm pulled back toward her. Cyril laughs and leads us to a table.
"Coffees?" I nod my head, and I can only expect Emma does the same, because she doesn't protest. It's early, but if you either would like lunch instead, I can make that too."
"Thanks, Cyril." I watch as the menu floats up and opens by itself. I hear a loud sigh, and Emma breaks it down. "Neither of us have any idea what's going on here, but the 'one of us is crazy' theory isn't holding up all too well. Everyone else seems to see both of us just fine. I'm visible and you're not luminescent. We haven't gotten one strange look since we met each other at the bus stop. Whatever this thing is, it's only affecting us." She sounds really frustrated now. It's kind of a different tone.
"Even if both of us are apparently having a simultaneous hallucination, it would be a winning lottery ticket to say we're both crazy." I watch as a knapkin pulls out of its holder. I feel something bump the table, as the knapkin folds into the shape of a diamond, unfolds, and folds into an isosceles triangle.
"What shape is the knapkin?" Emma's voice sounds like its coming from further away. I realize she must be turned to the side.
"Are you trying to hide it from me?" I ask.
"Just answer the question."
"It's a triangle," I say.
"More specific?" She's really terse now, but I don't think it's directed at me.
"Acute Isosceles. And it was a diamond before that, but you changed your mind." The knapkin drops to the table just as Cyril brings coffee and cream back to the table.
"Thanks, Cyril." He nods and heads back to the counter as I watch the creamer pour into Emma's coffee. My eyes are fixed on the animated sugar packets emptying into the mug. The spoon follows shortly behind. "Are you a psychic?" Emma asks. I start laughing. "Seriously, TJ. Has anything related to the paranormal ever happened to you or around you?"
"No way," I say. "When I grew up I had plenty of real things to be afraid of. Ghosts and monsters never really made it onto my priority list."
"Not just ghosts and monsters," Emma says. "ANYTHING paranormal. Premonition? Heightened intuition? Vibes? Sensitive empathy?"
"It's all the same to me, I say. It's all bullshit." I hear Emma sneer. "You know what I mean. Present situation excluded." I watch her coffee cup lift up and tip back. I don't see anything flow out, and when the cup returns to the table, there's no suspended coffee in the invisible stomach in front of me. "I can't see the coffee once you drink it, by the way."
"I was kind of thinking about that too," Emma said, a little calmer. "This is way too complicated for me, TJ. Crazy doesn't account for you knowing what's going on behind my back. Invisibility does." I nod my head. "So let's get critical about this." Emma takes another sip of coffee. "I'm obviously a normal looking girl to everyone else in here. That means that light is reflecting off my clothes, my hair, and my skin to give the image of ME. Everyone except you seems to be getting that image just fine."
"We're talking about light behaving subjectively. If you see me glowing, then a higher than normal amount of light is bouncing off me and into your eyes. If I don't see you, it's because none of the light bouncing off of you is getting to my eyes."
"So can that happen?"
"Well, like you just said, it is happening. We could do some more tests if you want, but most of them are going to involve making sure I can see through you. If no one else can see what's happening, we don't even know how to test this out." The coffee cup floats into the air again, and I laugh. "What's crazy about this is that I'm getting used to not seeing you. I can't see your expression, but I feel like I know where you're at."
"Oh yeah?"
"You're frustrated, but not at me. You're upset, but only because you have no idea when all of this is going to come to a screeching halt. Even though all your other senses are in place, you can't identify this as reality. You can't stand that you've reduced the last half hour to a dream. You won't accept that this is real, but you won't accept that it's fiction either." Emma laughs a little, but it's kind of a sad laugh. Low. "At the same time, all of this is so wickedly magnetic, so strange and beautiful that even a dream would be okay." I've let it all out. I just dropped my heart in front of an invisible girl. Someone I've never seen. Someone I've touched, but never seen. Silence for a long time. Silence and silence and silence...until I feel a squeeze on my left hand.
"You're glowing more now," Emma says. "You're shining now." Her voice is trembling a little and I know I've struck a nerve. The last thirty minutes have been a blast, but they've also left us both vulnerable in a way I can't describe. Everything that I said to Emma began echoing back. Now I was worried--I was actually scared--that this girl, this unseen presence in front of me, was going to disappear in a smokescreen of waking thoughts.