The Empress’s New Body

I’ve been thinking really hard lately. Well, actually, it is the only thing I can do. Of course, for now. Anyway, finally I found out that everything started with my nail polish. 

It was one of those cloudy days that no one could tell whether it was going to rain or not. We both wanted to exchange our vows under the sky, even if it was mischievously gray. But our wedding planner decided to use tents at the last minute. He said his job was to manage the ceremony and ours was to enjoy our it. So, we had to let him be. And we did. I went back to my room to get ready. 

I had just finished polishing all my nails when Helen entered the room. Trying to stay positive and lighten her mood, I gave her a big smile.

She smiled back, “Aren’t they dry yet?!”

“Oh, I polished them again. Look!” I said, and excitedly showed her my fingernails. “I wanted to compensate for the tent.”

“With red?!”

“Yeah, red. Don’t you like it? I thought mayb…”

“Yeah, no… I just thought you wanted a lighter color to match your dress.” 

She caressed my dress as it hung there.

I had told her I would like to wear my mom’s wedding dress, but she had bought that dress as a souvenir from her trip to Italy. “I had no plans to buy you a dress. I was headed to Valextra. Oh, but hun, the moment I saw it, I couldn’t stop imagining you in it! I love your mom’s dress too. Whatever you wear, you’ll shine!” she had told me that when I was surprised to see the dress. Her eyes were shining, the dress had cost her a lot, and it was insanely beautiful! So, when my mom said I’d be a fool if I didn’t wear it, I made up my mind.

She didn’t even look at my fingernails closely. She just kissed me absently on the lips and said, “Whatever you like, hun. Pink, red, blue, black. Whatever you like.”

I was about to say that boring pale pink was her choice not mine, but I doubted if I could remember correctly. And I thoughtperhaps she was right. Red was too much for that posh wedding after all! So, I went back to that boring pale pink. 

That night my mother didn’t stop nagging me to have less wine and eat something because I seemed pale to her. I looked at my pocket mirror. Mom is making a fuss! I’m not pale, Helen thinksso too, I thought. Mom is playing mom. I am just tired, everyoneis tired at their wedding, aren’t they? Or since it is the first time that I am spending that much time with Helen’s old friends, colleagues and family, I am nervous. That’s all. We had oftenvisited them shortly or bumped into them by chance in a gallery, a concert or in other public places. 

But I was wrong. Mom wasn’t playing mom.

There came other things later, those very trivial things that are not big enough to point out without being accused of being too sensitive or insecure. I can’t remember many of them, it might be because of my current situation. But sometimes they were big enough to point at, like my job. 

I remember that night specifically because I finally saw what my mom had been seeing for a long time. It was two weeks before our second anniversary. We were planning a special celebration. It was unnecessary to worry about its cost because Helen’s money was mine too, as my lovely wife would always remind me! Still, I couldn’t help thinking about it. 

“Oh, hun, how many times should I say ‘Don’t worry’? Please!Think big, think wild. We only have one second anniversary, don’t we?” she said and laughed. 

Although it wasn’t funny, I laughed too, just because she was nice. She was always nice! She could do the cruelest things so nicely. 

“You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just… I haven’t gotten used to it, you know. After dropping out of university, I always had to keep track of my income and expenses. That change cost me…”

She interrupted me. “Speaking of change…,” she took her eyes off me and rearranged the tulips in the vase. “Don’t you want to go back to law? You were really talented. I’m sure…”

I didn’t want to stay to hear the rest. It wasn’t the first time. I got up abruptly to storm off into the kitchen. I needed water. I needed space. I couldn’t breathe. She pulled me down and kissed me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you made a wrong decision. I love you as you are. I think it was bold, I’ve always said that to you. Besides, I love your music.”

“No!”

“No?!! What do you mean? How else should I show you how much I love your music?!” She gave me a reproachful look. 

“No, you never said that to me! You never said it was bold!”

“Of course I did! Maybe not always with those exact words. And actions speak louder. Don’t you keep saying that? I haven’t supported you enough?”

She had, actually. She rarely missed my favorite gigs although her days were always hectic. She never complained about my trips — although I wouldn’t have minded her telling me sometimes how hard my frequent trips were for her, and how much she missed me. It was hard for me too, being away from her — and I had no worries about my bills, I could work on my music with peace of mind. Of course, I wasn’t even very sure whether she liked my music or not. She had asked me to talk less about my music with her family. “They’re old-fashioned. They don’t understand your art, hun,” she said. And when someone in her family brought it up, she would interfere and steer the conversation toward theories and history of music, which I was interested in too, but whenever she did that, a small ball of fire would burn inside my chest.

But I said nothing. My shoulders slumped, and I forgot about the part I had played in our relationship. “Yes, you have.”

She kissed me again and changed her mask. “You didn’t let me finish. I’ve been dreaming about working together recently. That’s all. I think I’ve grown jealous of the newlywed couple at the firm. How childish of me! Forget what I said. I think you should keep going. You’re doing well. I’m sure you’ll release your first album soon,” She hesitated, then continued, “By the way, in my dream, I didn’t see you give up music. I just…Nah! Forget it. Sorry. Let’s go back to our anniversary plan.”

She would just plant the seed and wait for the rest. I knew her way. I had studied law too, I had learned how to play with juries, you know. 

She knew how anxious I was about the future of my profession. I was thirty-five and couldn’t release my solo album yet, something I had always wished for. 

That conversation ended there, leaving me feeling ashamed ofgetting upset with Helen while she had good intentions! Later that night, when I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I saw it in the mirror, or I’d better say, I didn’t see it! It wasn’t there! I touched the left side of my face. Phew! It was there, I just couldn’t see it! I couldn’t see my left ear, my sharper ear. It was invisible. 

My mother had warned me for so long. She would beg me to see a doctor. But what did I do? I distanced myself from her. Suddenly, I remembered she had freaked out about the middle finger on my right hand. Being horrified, I raised my right hand and looked at it closely in the light. I could see the light through it, though not clearly… yet! I was rummaging through my life to find a clue when Helen knocked on the door, “Aren’t you finished? Can you please give me my toothbrush? I’ll use the other bathroom if it takes you longer.”

That night passed and washed more of me away day by day. The more I got invisible, the less I would look at the mirror. It isn’tthat bad after all! I would tell myself. Our band was offered more gigs, more well-paid ones. Two companies offered us big deals. People loved us, or… well more precisely they loved my invisibility! I didn’t care. It didn’t matter, the deals did. I had to prove myself to Helen. Also, I grew to resent her calmness, her suspicious kindness and her financial support.

I wish she was not that calm and nice. Her calmness and kindness actually imprisoned me. I wish she hadn’t done all those nice things. She confused me. I didn’t know if she loved me or if she had bought me, or ransomed me into putting up with her controlling behavior. 

For some time, I searched for other reasons to explain my condition. I saw many doctors, and they all referred me to shrinks. Even shrinks were confused during our first sessions. Because I was always bragging about her goodness. Then the moment came. The shrink asked why I didn’t do this or that, and I burst into tears, sobbing, “Because I… I know she won’t like it.” 

“Does she expect you to do everything her way?” 

“Yes… no… I don’t know… She says NOTHING. She just distances me or says… says something to make me doubt myself. And that ambiguity makes me nuts. She wouldn’t disagree directly, so I couldn’t discuss it. I trust her, at least…There was a time when I trusted her. I didn’t know… didn’t know I needed to protect myself from her. Even now — damn me! — I can’t believe it!” 

And I didn’t, I didn’t believe it until I heard those words about me from her mouth on that last day. Maybe… maybe I didn’t want to believe it. Maybe I knew I was an active participant in our deal… She never forced me to stay… Quite the opposite, I always knew, deep inside me, that she would move on easily, that she wouldn’t fight to keep me and I didn’t want to confront that fact. Maybe it was the reason that even when I absolutely didn’t need her financial support, I didn’t leave her. Or … or maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I loved her.

One morning our fans got up and decided that our music was depressing, boring, fake and so many other things. Well…Actually, I welcomed it. I needed someone to put the brakes on me. The more I had been invisible, the weaker my body became. Most of the time, I was sick. Yet we all, in our own ways, acted as though it was the pressure of work that was wearing me down, and that I would get better with some rest that never seemed to arrive.

By the time I became completely invisible, we had been married for ten years. I had quit the band and gradually stopped leaving the house too. Children were scared of bodiless clothes walking the streets, and adults were uncomfortable with witnessing someone’s invisibility. I think it would be amusing, though, if the situation were reversed — if they saw a visible person with no clothes on instead! 

I myself wouldn’t like to look at myself —I mean, my clothes—in the mirror. But sometimes I would miss fresh air and daily life on the streets, so I would take off all my clothes and go for a walk.

You might wonder what Helen’s reaction was. I would if I were you! No matter how big the newspaper headlines were about our special band, she strongly believed that I wasn’t invisible, that people who claimed to find me invisible were only jealous. She would laugh and say, “It is the opposite of The Emperor’s New Clothes, isn’t it, hun? Only people who love you can see you;the stupid and the jealous can’t.” She used to kiss me absentlywhen she was lying to me, but she had quit that habit since the time my lips got invisible too. 

One afternoon, on one of those nude walks of mine, a truck driver, itching to get going, ran the red light when he saw how empty the street was. He drove into me. I saw him stop his truck some meters away, jump out of it, and look around. He couldn’t find anything or anyone on the ground. He checked his tires. Nothing. He should have come closer, but he didn’t. He lookedup and down the street, jumped behind the wheel and drove off. 

I don’t remember who exactly found me first and when. I told you I can’t remember all things given my current situation. You know the brain is so soft. Maybe it was Mr. Spot. He was the guardian of the neighborhood, often keeping watch from his window. He must have been suspected and rushed to the street. He was fond of me. He had told me several times he wished he was invisible too. 

“Oh, for God’s sake! Come on! I’m talking here. Can’t you go to other parts and leave my tongue and lips for your last bite? I really need them to tell my story. You can go on with my ears. I really can’t stand your chewing anymore!” I got furious when Helen decided to bury me instead of cremating me, as I had once asked her to. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t so bad after all. It gave me a chance to think and tell my story.

Anyway, I remember the poor mortuary worker! She was frustrated, washing a body with only some parts of it visible. I became visible after my death but not at once — not untilHelen’s eulogy. She shed tears as she told others how brave, brilliant, lovely, caring, and so many other things I was; how she had always been proud of me; how I was her shining star; and how my death had darkened her sky. She said everything a good wife is expected to say at her spouse’s funeral. I shouldn’t have gone back to that pale pink.