Invisible


This morning when James left I was hiding in the bathroom.  I didn't want to talk to him.  I was still so damn furious about
what he'd said last night.  The bathroom is usually a good place to hide.  We sort of have this habit of leaving each other
alone when one of us is in the bathroom.  It's like some secret law. I'm taking a shit -- don't bother me.  That's really the
only reason the bathroom door is ever closed.  I mean, it's not like we've never seen each other naked or anything.  We're
pretty much open about everything.  It just doesn't matter. We're that close.  I mean, we've spent so much time together,
sometimes it's like we're one person, you know?  But shitting is the one thing we don't share. It's just how it is.

So I was still pissed at him this morning.  After he got out of the shower, while he was still in the bedroom getting dressed,
I went in the bathroom and sat.  I didn't really have to take a dump or anything; I just didn't want to see him. Didn't want
to talk to him at all.  I mean shit, I guess he was basically saying that I'm not pulling my weight around the place.  But he
just doesn't get it.  You know, I didn't kick his scroungy ass out when he didn't have a job for six months after he finished
his bachelor's.  We stuck together then.  And I wish we could stick together now.

"You and me, back to back, we'll fight our way out of here."  That's what we used to say to each other when it seemed like
us against the whole world.  But man, he just doesn't see it that way.  I've just been in a sort of a slump for a while.  It's
not easy holding down a job when everybody treats you like you're invisible.  But that's a problem I've had my whole life,
you know?

Like this morning, after James went to work.  All we had was instant coffee, so I went down to the café on the first floor
of our building.  There was a line.  The place stays pretty busy in the mornings.  So I waited behind this lady with neon red
hair.  The rest of her was well put together.  She had one of those designer coats on like she had money and enough clunky
metal jewelry to start her own recycling center.  But her hair was like a cheap dime-store dye job.  I mean, she must know it
doesn't look real.  It's the kind of thing James and I would joke about.  I even looked around like I expected him to be
there.  But I just had to laugh by myself.

So anyway, after the lady with the bad hair color ordered her latte and moseyed around to the side of the counter where
you pick up your coffee, I stepped up.  I was getting ready to tell the girl what I wanted, when she just totally ignored me.
Seriously,  she just said hi to the guy behind me in line.  Then he said hi. And they were chatting like people do when they
see each other more or less all the time.  You know, talking about the front that brought in all the cold weather and the rain
and shit.  And I'm being patient.  Like maybe they're old friends or whatever.  I don't want to be rude and demand my
coffee.  It's not like I was in a hurry or had someplace to go or whatever.

I was just standing there, you know, a little off to the side so they could talk, but close enough to remind her that I was
next in line.  But then she's giggling about something he said about the election coming up, and I'm smiling because it's
pretty funny.  And I've been keeping up with all that stuff since I read the paper every day looking for work.  And then she
just asks him if he'd like his regular soy cappuccino.  And I'm thinking, hey, I was next.  I sort of tried to step up, but he
was pulling his wallet out and they were still chatting about bullshit.  And they just totally ignored me.  Like I wasn't fucking
standing there.

So basically, I was pissed.  I was still pissed about James.  And now I was pissed about the coffee shop girl ignoring me, so
I stormed out of there.  I wasn't going to buy any of her fucking coffee after she treated me like that.  I probably didn't
need to be spending the money on their over-priced gourmet shit anyway.  So I went back to the apartment.  Fuck it, I can
drink instant.

That shit happens to me all the time.  Everywhere.  I've seriously gone to job interviews and waited all day in their little
waiting rooms.  Feeling stupid thumbing through their outdated magazines and staring at their fake ficus trees. Like purple
is a real color ficus comes in.  And all the other candidates get called in.  And I just wait around for hours and then go home.

So anyway, I go back to the apartment, and I tried to look through the newspaper to see if there's a job I can go for.  But I
can't get the whole thing with James out of my head.  I mean, we've been together since we were like nine.  We're the exact
same age.  Or close to it.  But really my life didn't start 'til I met him.  Until he needed me.  I'm not saying I'm in love with
him or anything like that.  But I guess I do love him.  I'm attached to him, that's for damn sure. Like I say, we've been
together for fucking ever.

I still remember vividly the two of us arriving in this city.  Two boys striking out on our own.  We ditched the little Podunk
southern town where James was born to try our luck together in the city.

"You and me, back to back, we'll fight our way out of here."  It was our catch phrase as we made our way out of the miasma
of that backwards place into a whole different world.

Everything was different.  If we didn't have each other, I think either one of us would have gone nuts trying to make it
alone.  But we did have each other.  We would sit up at night sipping this cheap vinegary wine and talking about whatever
happened during the day.  We could talk for hours about nothing or everything.  Important stuff or just bullshit.  We
always agreed on everything: politics, religion, whatever.  Sometimes I would be thinking of the next thing to say, and
James would just say it like all our ideas came out of one head.  It had been that way since we met.

When I first saw James he was sitting underneath this big magnolia tree.  I mean this thing was huge, the limbs as big
around and twisted as a dragon's back.  And low, you could easily climb fifteen or twenty feet up on all these low limbs that
started out sideways and curved up and out.  But we didn't play on the tree much that first day.  James was kind of sore
and really upset.  I mean, he was just nine and the shit his stepfather did to him.. I just don't know how he survived it all
intact.

Well, I guess he's still fucked up about it.  Wouldn't you be?  Even after all these years, he still can't quite figure out if he's
gay or straight.  Or if he wanted that shit to happen, or if it was abuse.  Well anyway, I wanted to kill that bastard for what
he did to James.  We used to make sort of jokes about it.  Like how we'd kill him, all the ways we'd torture that prick for
what he did to him.  And that seemed to help James.  Gave him an out for the rage he felt from all that abuse.

You know, the day I met James was the first day his stepfather touched him. That's why James was sitting outside by the
tree.  He didn't want to be in the house with that monster.  That son of a bitch tried to apologize years later, tried to play it
off like it wasn't all that bad.  He told James that he was feeling bad because he was laid off and James' mom was working
double shifts to make ends meet and he just missed her so much that he had to touch something, someone.  Fucking
bullshit.  We should have cut the bastard's balls off years ago.

"You and me, back to back, we'll fight our way out of here."  That's what I told him that first day we met.  And we sort of
did.  I guess he's mostly over it now, as much as you get over that kind of thing.  But it fucks you up, permanently.  I do
my best to cheer him up.  That's kind of my job -- since I don't have a job.  I try to make things better.  But I guess what
James was saying last night is that he just doesn't need me for that anymore.

I know what you're thinking.  And yeah, I guess I'm a little codependent.  But shit, we've been together forever.  I don't
know what my life would be like without James.  I mean, without him I'm fucking invisible.

Seriously, it's like I'm not even here.  When I'm alone, walking down these crowded streets, people just walk strait at me
like I'm not there.  I have to step aside for them, for everybody.  But when I'm with James, when the two of us are walking
side by side, well then people step aside for us.  James is the only tangible thing in my life.  It's like without him I'm less
than a person.

And sure, I guess we've sort of dated.  I mean, when he wasn't seeing somebody else, I was always there, you know?  
We'd go to restaurants together, and he'd pick up the tab 'cause I sure as hell couldn't afford it given my pitiable track
record for employment.  And when we got back to the apartment we'd have these sort of quiet moments together.  
Sometimes I thought maybe he loved me.  But I don't know.

Like there was this one time.  I was on the couch; it's the only piece of furniture I feel I have a sort of claim to.  And he was
in the bedroom asleep, or I thought he was asleep.  And then I heard him say my name.  Or I thought I heard it anyway.  
So I went in there real quiet in case I misheard and he really was asleep.  He was jerking off.  I could see his hand moving up
and down over his crotch.  And the sheet was popping up like a tent.  And then when I got in there I thought maybe I
should just slip back out again.  But he pulled the covers off. And he was laying there sort of mumbling as he stroked his
cock.  His boxers were still around his thighs and he pushed them off one leg and let his knees fall apart.

"Go ahead, touch my balls," he said.  Well, really it was just barely a whisper.

So I did.  He whispered, "Yeah, like that."  His other hand was there too.  And together we sort of brought him off.  You
know, his two hands and my one.  And then, afterwards he wiped himself off with a dirty t-shirt and went to sleep.  We
didn't really talk about it.  What can you say?  I mean, we're just close enough to help each other out in that department if
we need to.  But I don't know if it qualifies as dating or seeing each other or whatever.

But I never thought I had some kind of a claim on him or anything.  I'd sometimes help him out when we went out to bars
or whatever and he saw someone he wanted to talk to.  You know, I'd encourage him or tell him what he should say or if he
should buy someone a drink.  Like I said, dating was a little weird for him.  He wasn't sure sometimes if he really wanted to
date guys or if it was just symptomatic of what his stepfather did to him.  He has dated a few women, and I guess he does
alright in the bedroom department.  I mean, I never joined in or anything.  But I can pretty much hear what goes on from
my spot on the couch, you know?  Guys or girls, I don't judge or get jealous.  It's his thing, something he has to work out
on his own, I guess.

Me, I don't date much.  Alright, you could argue that my dance card has been painfully empty -- forever.  But I don't really
need to see anybody.  I mean, I've got James when he needs me.  And beyond that, who cares?  We don't have to date or
be lovers or anything like that.  I'm just glad to be his friend.

I don't require much in life.  I've got my couch -- although I must admit James really paid for it.  But I was the one who
found it at that second-hand store.  And I guess if he really does want me to leave, I'll have to scratch together the cash to
pay him for it.  I've really grown accustomed to sleeping there, as much as I sleep.  I'm sort of an insomniac.  You'd think
James would get pissed off with me clinking around the apartment in the middle of the night, but he doesn't seem to mind.  
He usually just sleeps through it all like I'm not even there.

I don't eat much either.  You know, we sort of got used to getting by on very little when both of us were unemployed.  
When times were rough, we figured out how to make it.  We used to order from this Chinese place that was real generous
with the rice.  The two of us could split an entrée and be ok.  We'd even halve the egg roll.  And then when things got
really rough we could split a package of ramen noodles.  Sometimes that's all we ate in a day.  But things would eventually
get better.  I mean shit, things weren't all bad.  You know, James finally got a good enough job to put himself through
school and all that. And we stuck together through all of it.  Just the two of us.  Back to back.

But something's changing.  It's like after all we've been through together, he's suddenly deciding I'm pulling him down.  
You'd think he'd recognize the value of his best friend.  You'd think he'd at least -- I don't know -- want me around just in
case he needed me again.

I don't want you to think I'm jealous.  Because I'm not.  It's not that at all.  But he's been acting different since he started
seeing this girl.  She's incredible, perfect for James.  We met her at this bar.  One of those places that just opened up so
it's crazy crowded.  We were standing together by one of those little shelves littered with empty beer bottles and plastic bar
cups.  And she was just there.  Like one of the stroboscopic lights suddenly illuminated her.  She was wearing jeans that
looked like they were made for her body and this sparkly silver top that seemed more chain mail than cloth.  It moved
sensuously when she moved, catching the passing light and making her look like she was part of the dance floor effects.  I
nudged James to let him know she was looking our way.  Told him, "Man, you should go talk to her."

It took a little prodding, but he acquiesced.  And just about the time he was getting ready to step up, she moved over
closer to us.
"Hey," was all she had to say.

James managed to stutter back, "Hi."  And they were off.

It was like I had gone invisible again.  Even though I was never more than three feet away from them -- except when they
were on the dance floor -- I couldn't hear what they were saying.  It was like they were in a bubble.  Just the two of them.  
He didn't even bother to introduce me, but I didn't care.  I was just glad to see my boy finding someone he liked.  Well, I
was getting a headache then from all the mixed booze and over-loud music and flashing lights, so I decided to take off.  I
don't know if James heard me tell him I was leaving.

They ended up going to some after-hours place with some of her friends and then to one of those all-night diners early that
morning.  When James stumbled in at eight the next morning, his eyes were half closed and his face was plastered with an
indelible grin.  I think he was really head over heels.

They went out like maybe six or eight times over the course of three weeks.  And I was really happy for him.  I mean, he
deserves this, to date someone he really likes.  It's been a while.  But then he said something the other day that sort of
bugged me.  He didn't say it to me.  They were going out to some kind of concert in the park and he had forgotten his
jacket when he went to pick her up. So they swung by here on their way and she came in.  She was looking around the
place, you know how people do when they first see where someone lives.  I was puttering around the kitchen -- I don't even
think they realized I was home. When she saw my blanket and pillow on the couch she asked if he slept there.

He said, "No, I sleep in the bedroom mostly.  But I sort of get insomnia sometimes and end up crashing on the couch, you
know?"

I didn't get it.  Why the fuck would he lie?  Did he want to pretend he didn't have a roommate?  Was he embarrassed of
me?  I was a little miffed to say the least.  But I didn't say anything.  I figured I'd confront him about it later.  But that
wasn't as bad as what he said last night.

Last night was the first night she stayed over.  I didn't mind.  Though I sort of wish James had warned me so I could have
made myself scarce.  But hey, when you're as close as the two of us, you let things slide.  I was sitting at the little table in
the kitchen with the newspaper spread out in front of me.  They had gone to dinner, and I really didn't expect James to
come back so soon.  I certainly didn't expect him to bring her back to the apartment.  Shit, if I'd known, I would have tried
to clean the place up.

I guess they didn't even notice anyway.  They paused for like ten seconds in the living room.  I could hear the quiet sucking
noises of them kissing.  Then he offered her a drink and she said, "No, thanks."  Next thing I hear is the bedroom door
shutting.  I tried to ignore all the noise they were making.  I mean, it's none of my business, right?  But truthfully, it was a
little hard to concentrate on the paper with all the squeaking and moaning and smacking sounds coming from the bedroom.  
I thought about putting on some music, but I decided against it. Thought maybe it would embarrass them to realize I was
still here.  I lay down on the couch and put my pillow over my head.  I really just wanted to go to sleep.

I guess I did doze off for a bit because the next thing I knew the sex noises had stopped and they were talking.

Her voice was the first I heard.  "You know, most of the guys I meet are either idiots or assholes or both."

"I hope I don't fall into those categories."  I could hear the smile in his voice.

"No, that's what I'm saying," she said.  "It's such a relief to finally meet a guy who I can actually talk to, who actually thinks
in some of the same ways I think."

His response was an all too familiar phrase rendered with a new tenderness I hadn't often heard in his voice, "You and me,
back to back, we'll fight our way out of here."

Ok, I must admit I was a little jealous.  I mean, it was our phrase.  Something between just James and me.

"What do you mean?"  Her voice curled up like someone who just saw a puppy, like she thought it was the cutest thing
she'd ever heard.

But it was his response that killed me, that made me wonder what the hell has happened between us.  He said, "oh nothing,
it's just sort of something I used to say to my imaginary friend when I had problems as a kid."

Ben Torbush