The Invisible Enemy (8 page)

A
ll the way to Barnes & Noble, I tried to walk tall, taking deep breaths. First things first. We had to fix Alyssa before she churned up more trouble.

“Hubert,” I said in a hurried whisper. “Go to the science section. Write down titles and stuff, just to keep J. P. busy. We’ll meet you by the doors in twenty minutes. And keep chewing!”

Alyssa trailed after me up the escalator.

“I don’t like this, Billie,” she said, barely lowering her voice. “Does all that disgusting gum that Hubert is chewing have anything to do with me? And what about J. P. asking you out? You said—”

I buried my face in my bag. One thing I was definitely not discussing with Alyssa was boys. “Alyssa, in five minutes we’re meeting Jody. She’s the Powder inventor. She’ll make everything normal so you can go home. Until then, keep your hands in your pockets and shut up. We’re in a bookstore. It’s practically a library!”

In the junior section, they have a little story-time stage draped with baby-blue curtains, as if Mother Goose is going to turn up any minute to put on a show.

Jody was sitting cross-legged on her jacket in the middle of the platform, reading
Curious George Gets a Job.
I hadn’t seen her for months, but she looked just the same, like an overgrown elf with big ears and floppy hair and braces and an odd, orange shirt with
RODNEY
embroidered on the pocket. She comes across as way younger than sixteen, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“Hey!” she said, looking up as we arrived. “Don’t you love Curious George? I always loved him. I wanted to marry the Man in the Yellow Hat and live with Curious George and have escapades.
Escapades
is such a good word, don’t
you think? I thought it would be much more exciting than living with my parents.”

“This
is the person who’s supposed to save my life?” said Alyssa. “I should have known. With Billie running the show, the most I could expect was a freak.”

“Alyssa! Shh! Jody is the smartest person you’ll ever meet.”

Jody’s eyes locked with mine and then danced over to where Alyssa’s voice had come from. I checked behind me quickly, making sure no shoppers were nearby.

“Hmm,” said Jody. “A nervous subject, eh? I guess we’d better get on with it. We don’t want this situation to linger any longer than necessary! Did you bring the gum, Billie?”

“Hubert has it. He’s meeting us downstairs.”

Jody pulled on a fuzzy plaid jacket, making her look like an elfin lumberjack. She herded us toward the escalators.

“I’ve checked out the ladies’ room here, but I don’t think it’s going to work. The sinks are tiny, and the toilets would clog up in a second. We really do need a bathtub. Got any ideas?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“Full immersion is always most effective. The new recipe has some real benefits, like being able to shop at Fairway for Power Puppy Pork Chunks any day of the week instead of beetling down to Chinatown for fungi.”

“Wait a second!” interrupted Alyssa.

We stepped off the escalator and wove our way through the tables toward the door. All the holiday books were on sale, and lots of readers were browsing.

“Dog food seems to work faster,” Jody continued, “but she still has to soak for at least—”

“I said, stop right there!” Alyssa burst out.

I’d been dreading this moment.

“Let me get this straight. Did you say ‘soak in dog food’?”

I shook my head at Jody, signaling her to proceed carefully, or maybe even outright lie, but she was focused on the space where Alyssa seemed to be. A man with earmuffs was watching us. I hoped he couldn’t hear properly.

“It’s a mixture of dog food and mushroom
soup,” Jody explained, trying to convince us both, I guess. “It’s freeze-dried in a sort of primitive manner, in waxed-paper pouches. My mother found a few lumps in the freezer last week, and I told her they were rum truffles from the Festivals of Other Cultures class at school. She wanted to know which culture so we’d never go there on vacation.

“But the freezing reduces the odor and makes the substance much easier to work with. There’s really nothing to be worried—”

A whole stack of books flew to the floor with a tremendous
thump.
Apparently, Alyssa was wearing the gloves!

“This was all part of your plan from the beginning, wasn’t it, Billie Stoner?” Alyssa hissed. “You only pretended to have fun and do tricks and everything, just to lure me into the hands of some weirdo science cult, but if you think I’m going to jump into a tub full of dog-food slush, you’re beyond whack!”

A basket full of holly-shaped bookmarks fluttered over the carpet. A second pile of books teetered in the air, ready to follow.

A little kid screamed in his stroller. People browsing looked over our way.

“Alyssa!” I yelled.

“How is she doing that? Why can we see the books?” Jody clasped her hands in ecstasy. “This is amazing! Astounding! Wonderful!”

Before I could explain, the books slammed to the ground, hammering my toes. I hopped up and down, biting my lip not to cry. We heard angry feet stomp across the floor. After a second of amazed silence, the clamor of catastrophe broke out all around us. I spotted Hubert’s yellow vest weaving through the crowd, but I wasn’t waiting around. Jody and I took one look at each other and pelted for the doors.

O
utside on Broadway, we ducked around the corner and leaned against the brick wall of the store, panting. It took me a minute to realize that Jody was raving on about the fantastic leap
in scientific knowledge that we’d just witnessed.

“Jody,” I explained, “she’s wearing gloves. Medical gloves. It happened last night for the first time. The latex somehow prevents the disappearing effect from passing through.”

Jody closed her eyes and swayed gently back and forth as if she was thinking really hard. I scanned the crowded Saturday-afternoon street.

“Alyssa?” I said loudly. “Alyssa?”

Jody opened her eyes.

“We have to find Alyssa,” I said.

The glass doors of Barnes & Noble swung open. Hubert and Jean-Pierre came out and looked around. They began to walk in the wrong direction.

“Hubert!” I shouted. “Over here!”

Hubert and Jean-Pierre turned abruptly and started to jog toward us when suddenly—
bam!
—Jean-Pierre collided with thin air and staggered to one side, holding his forehead.

“I guess we know where Alyssa is,” said Jody, jogging toward them.

Hubert was inspecting Jean-Pierre’s temple.

“Nice egg.” He scraped a mittenful of snow
off the hood of a parked car and held it against the bump.

My heart went soft. I loved that side of Hubert, the motherly-make-you-feel-better side. He was such a good friend. It made me wonder for a second whether he thought I was a good friend, too.

Jean-Pierre was trying to figure out what had hit him. “The lamppost?” he said, looking around in a daze. “The mailbox?”

“Alyssa?” I whispered. I thought I heard crying and followed the sound to a doorway, under an awning. I stopped, put my hand out, and found a sleeve and an arm and a shoulder.

“He’s okay,” I said.

She gulped.

“He’s a boy, after all,” I went on. “His head was swollen anyway.”

No answer.

“That was a joke.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Are you hurt, too?”

Jody came over to me. We heard Alyssa sniff.

“Do you need a tissue?” Jody pulled a Starbucks
napkin out of her pocket. I heard Alyssa reach out, and it floated up in the air.

“Take off those stupid gloves!” I hissed. She dropped the napkin on the ground. I heard her peel off the gloves with a little grunt, and I felt a clammy wad being pressed into my hand.

“Okay, now what?” I said, stuffing the gloves into my coat pocket.

“Are you all right?” Jody asked.

“What do you think?” said Alyssa in a wobbly voice. “If you think I woke up yesterday hoping to turn into absolutely nothing so that I could soak in dog food, then I guess you’d say I was all right.”

“Who’s the kid you plowed into?” asked Jody.

“He’s a boy from school—” I began.

“And I don’t want him to know!” moaned Alyssa. “About the—uck! Billie, I’ve never asked you for a favor before, but if he hears one hint that I had to swim in a tub full of dog-food muck, he’ll never like me!”

“We’re sworn to secrecy,” said Jody. “If you are.”

“Oh, I promise,” said Alyssa. “I totally swear.”

Wow, I thought. If she likes Jean-Pierre enough to take a vow of silence, I better do what I can to help out.

“And speaking of tubs,” said Jody. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s go to my dad’s,” I said, suddenly inspired.

“Your dad’s?” said Jody.

“It’s only a few blocks away. I have to go there anyway. And the bathtub is in perfect working order.”

T
he doorman at my father’s building was a little worried about giving me the key to the apartment and letting me go up while my dad was out.

“Does your father know you’re having a party?” he asked. “He didn’t tell me you were having a party.”

“Octavio,” I said, “don’t worry so much. My dad’ll be home in a few minutes. We just
got here early. My mom’s bringing Jane at two o’clock.”

Octavio was also worried about four people squeezing into the fridge-sized elevator. Good thing he didn’t know there were really five of us. I was practically hugging Alyssa all the way to the eleventh floor.

Inside my dad’s, we took off our coats and piled them on top of the umbrella stand. Then Jody looked at me. Jean-Pierre looked at me. Hubert looked at me. A hot wind swept through my head.

Okay, I thought, one step at a time … everybody except Jean-Pierre knows what we’re doing here. If Hubert had chewed enough gum, then the boys could leave.

“Chew, Hubert,” I said.

Jody edged toward the hallway.

“I have to use the bathroom, if that’s okay.”

“Uh, sure, go ahead. Second door on the left.”

“Ahh-li-sah!” Jody pretended to sneeze, signaling her victim. Alyssa brushed past me to follow.

“Hubert,” I said. “Uh, guys, come in and sit down.”

They perched on the edge of the sofa like two nervous patients waiting for a doctor.

I heard the pipes squawk as the taps went on in the bathtub. If only I was the one who was invisible! How did I get to be alone in a room with both boys together and all these mixed-up feelings?

I picked up Dad’s
Artforum
magazine and flipped through it, trying frantically to think of something to say. Oh, come on! Was I going to talk about modern art? I put the magazine down.

“Billie?” Jody called softly.

I went down the hall, catching a faint whiff of pig slop as the bath filled.

Jody leaned out the bathroom door. “We need the masticated chicle.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah. Hubert! Jody needs the— you know …”

Hubert bounced up from the sofa, blowing a giant bubble as he went to find his vest. Rather than be alone with Jean-Pierre, I followed Hubert.
The gum-filled bag dangled from his hand as he headed down the hallway.

The lock on the bathroom door had been taken off two years ago, after Jane got stuck in there and cried for an hour. Hubert pushed in without thinking. I stumbled in after him. The smell was like rotting garbage doused with stinky aftershave.

“Uck!” We gagged.

Alyssa started to scream.

Jody’s eyes met mine for a millisecond. She opened her mouth and pretended that ridiculous squeal was coming from her. Hubert dropped the gooey bag on the bath mat and turned to flee. I turned, too—and tripped over Jean-Pierre, who had followed me down the hall. As I pushed him out the door, I heard the sound of a slap. The screaming stopped with a gasp. I wondered how Jody knew where Alyssa’s face was, but I guess she’d just followed the noise.

“Why make a noise like that?” said Jean-Pierre, once again on the sofa. “Jody was not
in
the bath, after all.”

But maybe Alyssa was! No wonder she’d screamed! I would have screamed the roof down. Hubert would die if he knew he’d sort of seen Alyssa with no clothes on! I flopped into the big chair and grinned at him.

But Hubert didn’t sit down or smile back. “Jody’s a bit weird,” he said, answering J. P.

“Maybe she always yodels in the bathroom,” I said, giggling.

“You just better hope she’s quick about it.” Hubert looked at his watch. “I guess we can go now. I’ve done my part. And isn’t your dad coming home soon?”

J. P. jumped up from the couch. “Your father is scary, like your mother?’”

“No!” I said. I grimaced at Hubert so he wouldn’t say more.

Jean-Pierre glanced from me to Hubert and back again. He looked embarrassed. “You two probably want to be alone. I was hanging out all this time, and maybe I was in the way?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. Hubert was bright pink. Both boys were acting too weird for words. It was time to clear up this mess.

“Hubert?” I said. “May I talk to you for a minute, please?”

“I
am
in the way,” said Jean-Pierre. “I should go?”

“No,” I said. “Stay here. This will only take a second.”

I dragged Hubert by the sleeve into my father’s kitchen. “Listen,” I whispered. “J. P. has some whack idea that you—that I—that you and me—you know—did you say something to him?”

“No way,” said Hubert, examining the handle on the cupboard door.

“Good. I’m glad we got that straight.”

“Only …” he said.

“Yeah? Only what?”

“Only I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” he said, stuttering almost. “In case you turned out to like him, I mean, someone, maybe, sometime, better than me.”

“Oh, Hubert.” I felt a sob of relief tighten my throat. “You’re bananas. You’re my best friend, forever.” I squeezed his arm and dragged him back to the living room.

Jean-Pierre took one look at us and turned toward the door. “I’m in the way,” he said. “I think it’s best if I just disappear.”

“No, no!” I said, grabbing him.
“Please
don’t disappear!”

“No!” said Hubert. “Anything but that!”

The pause was more than a pause, like holding a breath to get rid of hiccups. And then I burst out laughing.

“This is crazy!” I said. “What are we being so silly for? We’re all friends, right?”

And it hit me that we were.
All
friends, I mean.

“You guys had a misunderstanding,” I said. “I’m not anybody’s girlfriend, and I don’t want to be. I like having just-friends. Best just-friends, and new just-friends.”

Hubert went crimson, but I kept going, thinking if I talked really fast, it would be over quickly.

“For a while, Jean-Pierre, I thought you were stealing Hubert away from me. And I felt left out. Then it turns out that Hubert thought you were stealing me away from him. But we were both wrong.

“My New Year’s resolution was to make a new friend,” I added, “and I’m glad it turned out to be you.”

Things might have become awkward again except that someone was calling my name.

“Billie?” It was Jody, only her voice sounded weird. “Could you come in here for a sec?”

“What?” I went back down the hall.

She yanked me into the bathroom. Dad’s dumb Mickey Mouse shower curtain was pulled across the tub.

“Mmm,” I said. “Eau de puppy snack. Where’s Alyssa?”

Jody hooked her thumb at Mickey.

“Alyssa?”

The shower curtain inched open. Alyssa was there, wearing her clothes. She was shivering slightly and scowling with black-eyed fury. Her fancy hairstyle was dripping wet with chunks in it—she hadn’t rinsed properly. The tub looked like a pig trough. Her pants were rolled up, as if she was wading in a stream.

The odd thing was that from the knees down, she didn’t have any legs.