I Spy With My Little Eye

An invisible hero story of our shadows

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The birds’ lively chatter lures him out of his sleep, into the dawn of the new day.

Come on, dude, wake up, the world’s waiting!

Eh? What is it waiting for?

For you to get your lazy ass out of the bed and get out, out, out!

He blinks with heavy lids. Who’s this guy standing by the window? Peering out, one elbow against the wall.

What’s so exciting out there?

Everything. The dawn. The people hurrying to their lives. The birds, you hear them?

I hear them all right. I better be getting up for school. How did you get in here? Who are you?

Just get ready and let’s take off. We’ve got a whole day ahead and a lot to do.

That rings true. The morning rush, the English test, the football game. So much unknown ahead. Maybe even running into Sally?

He flings the blanket aside and sits up. Next thing, he freezes. Mom’s steps on the stairs. What will she say when she sees this guy here?

Come on, get under the bed, go!

Not going anywhere, you crazy, man?

Hurry up, just get lost I tell you!

Mom opens the door and dashes in with the laundry basket. “Up already, honey? Breakfast ready downstairs.” She drops the basket by the window, next to the stranger’s feet, then rushes out.

She didn’t see a thing.

His knees are tense.

I did tell you to get ready, huh?

He’s getting ready all right. Cool. The world’s waiting to be conquered.

Hang on. What if someone sees this funny guy shadowing him, all gesturing and nudging him along the way? What if they say who’s this weirdo, is he high?

What if they say he’s crazy? What’s the big deal getting that A, winning that game — taking Sally on a first date?

Of course the crows will be cawing first thing with the sunrise, weekend or not. Kiss sleep adieu.

He scoffs and purses his lips before he even opens his eyes onto the new day.

The shadow is lying on the floor the same pose he’s lying in his bed.

Oh yeah, you can’t miss a morning, can you. I better head off to work before you start whining again.

He sits up. The shadow sits up.

Good morning. Although — I wonder —

Here it goes again.

— is it going to be good? Another day.

Yeah yeah. Better not look out the window, or in the mirror. Brings bad luck in the dark, they say.

The shadow is cowering in the darkest corner while he’s getting dressed. He presses the door handle, and the next thing, it’s standing right behind.

I’m coming with you.

Sure, what else was there to expect?

But are you sure you’ve got everything you need? What are we gonna do if —

Oh just shut up with your constant what-ifs, and see that nobody notices you.

He knows from the countless past mornings that nobody else can actually see the other. And yet he must take care. He must be the strong husband and father. The cool professional. The haha neighbour.

This miserable piece of shit must stay invisible.

Wake up you miserable bum, get your lazy ass out of the bed!

The birds have gone dumb over the time.

Oh, no, not you again. Why don’t you just give me a break?

Give you a break, huh? As if you could take a break from yourself.

I don’t want to be myself anymore. Leave me alone.

Sleep has been stingy with him these years. Short spells, gliding between the two worlds, and then, this. Long before dawn. Even before birds get started.

This evil little creature knows no limits in its meanness. It even wears his own face like a mock mirror. Here you are, here you are, ain’t that a pretty face, it cackles.

He turns his head right on the pillow. Sally’s asleep. He won’t wake her up with his grunts. She needs her rest. The tablets and vials on the night table, behind her shoulder. Will the treatment work?

He sits up slowly, head still heavy.

You don’t want her to see you like that, do you. How long have you been hiding in your little hole?

Shut up you spiteful mut. I won’t let you wake her up with your stinky hate show.

He shoves his feet into his slippers. The dwarf is looking up to him with a wicked twinkle in its eyes.

He knows she can’t hear nor see it. Never has, all these years.

But she might hear him, groaning and mumbling and shuffling his feet like the miserable creature he has become.

Better go downstairs and give her space. She’s better off without me close by.

At first, I only knew I wanted to pick an invisible character as one of the embodiments of an invisible hero. Quite obvious. I also knew I wanted three short pieces, for various roles this shadow character could play.

But while imagining these stories, it crossed my mind that I might connect them. A way to relate to the world at first (fear of being laughed at) often becomes our way to live and, in the next step, the way we relate to our shadow, therefore to ourselves.

Fear morphs into shame which morphs into grumpiness which morphs into self-loathing, until we prefer to stay away from the people we love.

Is there a creature you wake up to, in the morning, or in the dead of the night? Is it an aspiration? A feeling about yourself or your life? A shadow of your own self-image? How do you engage with it — and how does that shape how you engage with the world?