| They were calling him by his real name when growing up. He never liked his name though. He always wanted to be considered a superhero and one night in his youth as his mother lay in her bed behind a locked door, emitting loud lengthy moans, he decided he wanted to be called the Invisible Man. Superman was his first choice but for some reason this did not feel right to him. When he told his wishes to his mother and stepfather, they laughed and said if was going to be called the Invisible Man then would it be okay if they fed him invisible food? �What do you mean?� the boy said and his mother reached out and gently put her hand on his face and her eyes made him feel sad. His stepfather turned to the boy. �You know Ernest, at some point you will have to grow up and be apart of the real world.� he said. Ernest, standing in the middle of the kitchen with his hands clasped to each other and hanging in front of him looked up at the man and wondered what the real world was. His stepfather turned and looked at Ernest�s mother. �Have you thought about putting him on drugs or something?� �Drugs?� Just because he wants to change his name you think he should be put on drugs?� �Something like Rittalin.� �Ritttalin? That�s for kids who are hyper. Ernest isn�t hyper he�s just different.� �No he�s not hyper but he needs something. He can�t just live in a pretend world his whole life.� �He just wanted to change his name.� she said, her eyes unbearably sad to the boy as she fumbled around on the kitchen table for her cigarettes. �It�s more than that. It�s all that stuff he does in his room too, talking to himself and looking at the pornography.� �Bill please.� �I am telling you he is going to grow up to be a freak if you don�t do something about it now.� �Do we really need to be talking about this now?� �All I know is it needs to be done soon. He needs something that will stop his nonsense.� Ernest�s mother finds her cigarettes and puts one between her fingers as she looks for matches. �Bill you are going way overboard. He�s just a kid,� she said looking down at her matches as one was struck. �That�s exactly my point. He is just a kid and what better time to fix him of his problems than now. �But Rittalin is for hyper kids.� �It doesn�t necessarily have to be Rittalin it can be something else although I think Rittalin might be our best bet. He needs to see a doctor first.� �A doctor?� �Yes Louise a doctor. He can�t get a prescription without a doctor.� He paused for a second and then walked over to the refrigerator and shuffled some magnets around. The boy was leaning against the wall near the door to the living room, his hands still clasped to one another and hanging down in front of him, his eyes focused on a scab on the back of his thumb . What began as rubbing turned into picking and blood appeared. His step father saw this in the corner of his eye and turned to him. �Son what are you doing? Your bleeding!� He grabs the boys hand and stairs at it. �Don�t pick at scabs. Do you understand me? Louise get him a Band-Aid,� he said and then looked at Ernest right in his eyes. �You don�t pick at scabs.� Louise went over to drawer by the phone and dug through looking for the box of Band-Aids. �I can�t find them.� �Oh for Christ�s sake. Why are you looking in that drawer? They are in the bathroom in the medicine cabinet. Jesus Christ!� A screwdriver wedged itself in the drawer as she tried to close it, leaving it half open as she snubbed her smoke out on a plate on the table and went into the bathroom down the hall. Bill grabbed the boy�s hand and looked at it as the blood dripped a drop the size of a tear onto the kitchen floor. �God damn it here, put your hand over the trash can.� He put his hand on the boy�s back and push-walked him the trash can where the blood dripped onto a tin can. �Keep your hand right here so I can get a paper towel. Ernest stood there staring at his hand, amazed that he hardly felt any pain. Blood should equal pain yet there wasn�t any pain except for a slight sting. He touched the blood with his other hand and rubbed it between his thumb and index finger painting them red. It felt soft and slippery and he put his finger to his mouth and tasted it. �Damn it Ernest please!� Bill walked back over with a paper towel and snatched the boy�s finger out of his mouth. �What the hell are you doing!� Louise walks back in caring a box of Band-Aids. �Now what�s he doing?� She takes the paper off one of the Band-Aids and grabs Ernest�s hand. �He�s putting his bloody fingers in his mouth. Louise don�t put the bandaid on yet. It�s got to be wiped off. |