Expiration Date Read Online Free Page A

for instance, be talking to me.”
    There was an awkward silence. Awkward for me, mostly. The fat guy behind the desk—Mitchell—finally broke it.
    “Look, you should go downstairs to your boy, Erna. Feed him some dinner. It’s late. He’s probably starving.”
    “The boy’s fine,” she said. “He knows how to open a can.”
    Mitchell sighed and sat back in his chair. The floorboards creaked under his weight.
    “Erna, sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake to let you have an apartment here.”
    “Admit it. You love having me around.”
    “Not when I have work to do.”
     
     
    Okay, whatever was going on here, it was none of my business, and I should get the hell out. I took a few cautious steps toward the desk.
    “Hey, yeah,” I said. “Look—Mitchell? Erna? I’m really sorry, guys. I don’t know what happened, but I’ll show myself out, okay?”
    They didn’t seem to hear me.
    They didn’t react to me at all.
    “Come on, Mitchell, don’t be a square your whole life,” Erna said. “Just one old-fashioned at Brady’s. Or maybe a beer. It’s quitting time. I want to have a little fuuuuuun.”
    “It’s Tuesday night,” Mitchell said, “and you should be going home to bed.”
    “You always say that. And you never join me.”
    “Stop it. You should really check on your boy.”
    I was beginning to get a little freaked out so I started waving my arms.
    “Uh…Yo! Over here. Can you people really not see me, or are you just screwing around?”
    “Stop worrying about the boy,” Erna said. “You’re always telling me what to do with him. You act like he’s yours sometimes.”
    “No, I don’t. I’m not good with kids.”
    “I’m not asking you to be. Which is why he’s downstairs and I’m asking you out for a drink.”
    Erna took a final drag from her cigarette, then blew the smoke out long and slow before mashing the butt in a glass ashtray on Mitchell’s desk. I noticed a black nameplate on a brass holder: DR. MITCHELL DEMEO . Doctor, huh? I checked the rest of the room. There were two filing cabinets shoved up against one wall.
    Then I realized this wasn’t an apartment; this was an office. How the hell did I end up in a doctor’s office?
    Erna turned and walked past me, the rough fabric of her dress brushing against my bare arm. She sat back down on the couch, which was more of a high-backed lounge chair, all dark wood and maroon cushions. Her polka-dot dress flowed around her. She turned her feet inward and stared off into nothing. She was pouting.
    “You never want to do anything fun,” she said.
    With nothing else to do, I sat down next to her. Maybe one of these two crackheads would notice me then. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, as if invisible weights had been strapped to my wrists and ankles. I needed a minute to think. I turned to Erna and drilled my eyes into the side of her head.
    “So, just to be clear,” I said, “you can’t hear a thing I’m saying, can you?”
    Erna said nothing.
    “Not one thing.”
    Erna said nothing.
    “Like I’m not even here.”
    Still nothing.
    “I’ve got this rash on my testicles that, I swear, is brighter than those red dots on your dress.”
    Still nothing.
    “Okay then. Just wanted to have it straight.”
    I might have been invisible to her, but I could smell her perfume, which was sweet and pungent. Her lips were open slightly, like she wanted to say something but was holding back. Outside, the El train cars rumbled down their tracks, vibrating the floorboards beneath our feet. I could hear them screech to a halt, the doors thump open, and after a short while, close again. This all felt real. I felt real. Why couldn’t these people see me?
    “Come on, Mitchell, don’t be an asshole. I’m not asking you to abandon your work. I’m just asking for one little drink.”
    “Erna, please. Not tonight.”
    She sighed, stood up, then padded softly across the room until she was standing next to Mitchell. Then she dropped to her