And hungry.

But there was no food in the house. Nothing but dry cereal and powdered milk, and he gagged just thinking about it.

He fell into a chair, holding his head between his hands. What could he do now? He had no family, no friends to turn to for help. He could starve to death and no one would know. Here he had this great invention worth millions. Imagine all the things that could be made invisible. Tanks. Airplanes. An army. Policemen. Burglars.

Wait a minute.

He sat straight up in the chair and reran everything that had just gone through his head until he found the one he wanted.

Burglars.

Could he do it? Did he have the nerve?

Was anything worse than starving to death?

He began to walk to his bedroom, slowly at first, then with more determination. He tripped over his cat. The cat spat. Elmo Wimpler apologized.

From his closet he took an old shirt and slacks and his only other pair of shoes.

He hung them on the back of a door and began

12

to spray the clothing. He sprayed the shoes black and put them back into the dark closet. As the paint dried, the shoes disappeared.

He began to get excited at the prospect of playing the invisible man. He ran to the kitchen, again tripping over the cat. This time he did not apologize. From a plastic wrap and an old baseball cap, he fashioned a face screen with a thin slit he could see through. He took it back to the bedroom and sprayed the whole aparatus black.

He put on the costume, then drew the blinds and old drapes in the room. He stepped in front of the full length mirror on the back of his bedroom door in the dark room and there he was.

Or wasn't.

He was invisible.

He felt a thrill like he'd never felt before, not even when he was watching Phyllis' bottom as she gardened next door. He felt fantastic.

And scared.