Invisible Ink

Voices reverberated through the cafeteria like the restless drone of flies around a corpse. Those not engaged in the various waves of conversation about social networks or campus happenings sat hunched over textbooks and papers or devouring slabs of greasy food. Many of the tables were occupied by two or more students, save one, its only chair seating an invisible individual.

He scrawled away in a small notebook, the tapping of pen nib against the paper drowning out the bustle around him. Taking a gulp of diet soda, he perused the room. The faces expressed a multitude of expressions from humorous to contemplative, and while some looked in his direction, he still felt as though he wasn't really seen.

After all, there wasn't anything remarkable about David Cronus. He scribbled that in the margin of the page before returning to his inconspicuous scanning of the room. His gaze fell upon Mary Lee.

Mary, on the other hand, was remarkable. She sat with her head propped up with her arm, combing her fingers through her inky black hair as she laughed at something the guy to her left had said. At the distance David was, with the noise of the cafeteria, he couldn’t hear the melody of her laughter, but he had heard it before. A scene formed in his mind for a future story, and the thought of Mary had inspired it. He flipped to a blank page in the notebook and jotted down a few quick notes just as he noticed Mary rise from her seat before navigating through a throng of loitering students toward the exit.

The hour of journalism class wafted by in a blur for David, as his concentration deviated to Mary and the new story idea. His muse sat opposite him at the table, unaware of the mental note taking in which David was engaged. An entire page soon became filled with meticulous details such as the description of the way Mary’s wavy black hair fell across her shoulders. A perfect character sketch, but he still needed a plot, and a conflict. But in order to fully grasp the essence of his new character, for whom still needed a name, he would have to talk to Mary for real. He scoffed at the idea; she never really saw him anyway. After all, he was the invisible man on campus.

The dilemma tugged at David's mind for the entire day. Even while working on biology homework that night, he debated the prospect, but to no avail. In the meantime he would just write, and see where the words would take him. He disappeared to a quiet corner of the apartment, while his roommate played some sort of drinking game with friends, and brought the character to life.

She would need a new name, for he couldn’t possibly call her Mary, in the odd case that she would happen to read it. The first name that came to mind, Meagan, seemed to stick, so he went with it. The words seemed to flow from his imagination through the conduit of his arm and the pencil onto the paper.

Meagan sauntered into the bar, the metallic melody of a steel drum band brightening the patrons. She recognized one man in the far corner, who seemed to be escaping everyone’s attention. But there was no hiding from her. Ever since she had met Brad at a writing convention a year ago, she was determined to find out more. His story wasn’t written in invisible ink as he thought it was.

Inspiration overcame David, sending him well into the early hours of the morning. His arm and eyes hurt from the prolonged writing by the soft halo of the desk lamp. His roommate’s gathering had passed out hours before in a drunken stupor, and David slipped off to bed.

The next day, David selected a table closer to the one Mary sat in order to observe her better as he wrote more of Meagan’s story. Mary surely wouldn’t have noticed this change, even if she knew he existed. David thought that she might have smiled at him as she took her seat, but it more than likely was at someone in his vicinity. He returned to his writing, describing Meagan in the same attire as Mary was wearing today: a cerulean blue angora sweater, baggy, with dark, tight jeans. This allowed for a change in setting for the story as well, and it would now take place at a ski lodge.

The rewrite would have to wait until after biology class. David sat through the lecture on the composition of plant and animal cells with feigned interest. At some point during the explanation of the function of ribosomes along the endoplasmic reticulum, it occurred to David that he would have to come out of hiding and talk to Mary in order for her to see him for real. She would be in the computer lab around the time his biology class ended.

David’s stomach churned with every step he took toward Mary seated at one of the computers. He placed his hand on her shoulder, the hairy fibers of her sweater tickling his skin, but causing her to jump. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you coming.”

What else was new?

David struggled to conjure the exact words he wanted to say, as ironic as that was for being a writer and master of words. He pondered, what would his character say? “You know we have that research project for Butler’s class? I was wondering if you’d picked a partner for it yet.”

“I haven’t really thought about it yet, with the ton of work going on in my other classes. But sure, why not? You seem to know the material pretty well.” Her lips formed into the ethereal smile that weakened David’s statue, and he had to clench the chair to keep from toppling over. Stifling a giggle, Mary rose from her seat. “Hey, I have a class starting soon. I’ll catch up with you later. Thanks for offering to help, Da...Da…”

“David. And here’s my cell number. Call or text me when you are free next and we can begin.” He passed her a blank business card with the number written neatly on it.

“David. Right. I’m terrible with names. See you tomorrow.” With a wave, Mary, in her soft blue halo, disappeared from the lab.
This memory would have to be preserved, and David couldn’t think of a better way than to incorporate it into his story.

The lobby of the lodge provided a welcome contrast to the howling gusts of frost that bombarded Brad as he returned from the conference over in the hall. Another welcome sight was that of Meagan, who greeted him with a warm hug in her sapphire blue sweater. “Thanks so much for wanting to help me with my book. I’ll bring it by later for you to look over.”

Mary texted David the next morning, suggesting they use one of the study rooms at the library, and she’d be there when her class was over at four. He arrived at the library at three so he could have a full hour to write before Mary arrived. The story was getting to the good part, where Meagan finally reveals to Brad that she knew his secret. David would only write enough to set up the scene, leaving the anticipated revelation for after his studying session with Mary. That way he could capture all her nuances enough to put them in Meagan’s character.

The silence in the room was like that of Limbo. If Limbo existed, and Brad knew it did, it would be this cold New England town. No one knew he existed here, and Meagan would never see the real him anyway. What Brad didn’t know was that Meagan was just on the other side of the door.

A freezing sensation writhed through the veins in David’s arm. It hurt a little, more than the usual cramp from extended periods of writing, which he knew all too well. After a few flexes of his arm and wiggles of his fingers, the iciness subsided. David was not about to let that stop him; he felt more connected to the story than he had before. His arm tingled again, but he continued to write, furiously, as the feeling flowed into the rest of his body.

But even that faded.

The study room door clicked open, and Mary entered with squeaky footsteps that faintly echoed in the quiet room. Her college sweatshirt and crimped hair were drenched. “Sorry I’m late, but the rain got worse out there, and visibility was…” She stopped, realizing the room was empty. “I thought he’d be here by now,” she sighed and dropped into the only seat at the table.

A black book sat open on the table in front of her, opened to a page half-filled with handwriting. Mary picked up the book, turned to a random page and read, just to pass some time. “Wow, whoever wrote this is really good!”

Minutes passed, and still no sign of David. “Ok, David, where are you?” She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number from the business card. Instead of the ringing sound, a prerecorded operator voice informed her that the number she was trying to reach did not exist.