"Well, Mrs. Addison, it looks like you're just as hardy and fine as someone half your age. However, just to be certain the pain won't return, I'll prescribe some of these handy little pills here."
I handed the elderly lady a small bottle of brown pills, the principle ingredient being brown sugar. She snatched the bottle out of my hands and stared at it suspiciously, then looked up at me over the tops of her immensely thick eyeglasses. Her thin lips pinched as she glared at me. I kept my face somber as I made a note in her profile.
"Take one after every meal, and I'm sure the pain in your side will be gone within a week."
She shook her head slightly, and I knew she had no doubt in her mind that I spent my entire day and focused my entire life around plotting to poison her.
"Young man, you'd better hope these...pills -" she spat out as if it was a nasty word "- work. If they don't, I'll have you reported."
I dared not say aloud what I was thinking: 'reported where?' - before Mrs. Addison heaved her tiny, seemingly frail frame up out of the patient's chair and strode out the door, her linen-coated back sending waves of disapproval back at me.
The woman was the healthiest of all my patients, yet she insisted that she was so decrepit she would kick off any time. She had come in today and cut in front of two other patients in the waiting room, demanding to see me and shouting that her case was urgent. Nancy, who was manning the desk, had gently suggested the emergency room at the hospital scarcely a block away, but Mrs. Addison refused. She had a pain in her side, and she was sure it was going to kill her if 'Doctor Jeremy' didn't look at it immediately.
Ah, well. That was the only kind of patient I got in this little town, anyway. The occasional common cold, congested sinuses, maybe a case of heartburn to liven up the week. And there were, of course, many others like Mrs. Addison, who came in just to make an impression on the human race that they were the important ones, and everyone had better keep to their original purpose in life - serving them - or else.
Emily poked her head through the door and shook her head sympathetically, her reddish-blond waves of hair brushing her cheek.
"Mrs. Addison, I presume? I can tell by the particularly rumpled hair, Doctor Jim."
I hastily bent down to glance in the small wall mirror and smoothed down the brown curls that so easily sprang out of place.
"Who's next? Case of common cold? A slight pain in the foot? A reddening of the earlobe? Something particularly interesting, like a dog bite?"
Emily grinned, showing her perfect, white teeth in a vampirish smile.
"Actually, it's rather different. I've never even seen her before, which is strange for a town like this; what's even more strange is that she didn't tell me all about her problem in detail as if I would know what to do about it. I'll show her into room seven while you get ready."
I nodded in appreciation, and as the door clicked shut behind her, turned to the sink and washed my hands. I ran them through my hair, smoothed it down, then washed them again. I straightened my light-blue collar, threw back my shoulders and opened the door. If Emily said it was going to be an interesting case, then it probably was going to be. Emily knew what kinds of things interested me in the medical world, and she knew that nothing so far had interested me.
I walked down the long hallway with the blue-carpeted walls, populated by friendly, periwinkle-clad nurses who nodded at me and smiled as I walked along. I stopped in front of room seven, took a deep breath and opened the door. Emily stood smiling her fake, white-toothed smile down at a woman who was sitting facing away from the doorway on the bed. Emily looked up as I came in, and her smile turned from one of fake niceness into one of relief.
"Thank you, Miss. Doctor Jim is here, and he'll see to you now."
She strode out, scarcely bothering to conceal her hurry. The woman still did not turn to greet me, but let a small, amused laugh escape her.
"Thank goodness you're here, doctor. That's what poor Nurse Emily was thinking. Thank goodness I don't have to be here anymore."
She had a low, melodious, cultured voice and a strong British accent. I blinked in surprise - an accent was not common in Small Town. I hurried forward, snapping on some rubber gloves as I went.
"How can I help you, then, Miss..."
Her voice came from behind me. "Vivian. Call me Vivian."
I turned to face her and stopped in shock. She sighed slightly and turned fully to face me. She was the strangest woman I had ever, in all of my twenty-eight years, beheld. Her whole body was wrapped closely in a thick, dark green cloak with a tall collar that came up to her chin. It was buttoned tightly, despite the warm temperature of the room. She wore small shades that pointed up like little cats-eyes on each side, tinted with rainbow colors so I couldn't see her eyes. Her hair was the most obvious wig that I had ever seen, stiff, badly-made and barely doing its job of covering her scalp.
But it was her makeup that startled me the most. She was wearing very badly applied, extremely white makeup all over her face, smeared generously over every inch of skin. Covering her lips was a thick layer of bright pink lipstick, and her cheeks matched their color. Her neck was the same garish, smeary white as her face, even her ears were covered thickly with white makeup. It was overall an extremely startling and hideous effect, and it surprised me so much that I must have made some sort of exclamation, because her bright pink mouth twisted up in the corners in wry amusement.
"Yes, that's the general reaction I get. Pleased to meet you, doctor." Her dignified voice jarred me back to my senses, and I silently congratulated myself on my quick return to professional behavior.
"How can I help you? Is there some problem, Miss Vivian?"
She shook her head slightly.
"Shouldn't that be obvious? I am at the doctor's office, am I not?"
I frowned and tried to ignore her strange features as I continued the ritual questioning. "Do you have any pains, sleepless nights, headaches, irregularity of -"
She cut me off abruptly, languid amusement filling every word she spoke.
"No, no, nothing of the kind, doctor. My problem is of a much more...unique...nature." She was silent for a moment and seemed to be surveying me with a critical eye, although I couldn't tell through the sunglasses. "You are the type of man who would read carefully through all those little oaths about secrecy and preserving your patients' privacy, aren't you? And you would actually hold to them, wouldn't you?"
I was startled at the question, but the answer was immediate and obvious. "Of course I am, Miss Vivian. I am an honorable man."
Her lips twisted slightly again. "An honorable man. An expression not often used today, good doctor. Well, I will waste no more of your time. Since I know you will preserve my privacy - even in this small town where it will be so difficult to keep a secret - I'll tell you my story."
As she spoke, her words never lost their vague, amused, drawling accent that made it difficult to tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.
"I have fallen in love with a young man of exceptional intelligence, upright good nature and, of course, amazing good looks. I want to marry him and live with him happily ever after, of course. Unfortunately, he is not in love with me. In fact, he doesn't even know I exist. It's almost as if I'm...invisible to him."
I blinked, confused. "This sounds like a problem about which you should consult a psychiatrist, not a doctor."
She smiled slightly. "Ah, yes, but the problem is physical, not psychological in nature. The problem, dear doctor, lies underneath this hideous, thick mask of glue some call makeup. Don't deny that you are not repulsed by this thick coating over my features. Every man is. Including the one I'm in love with."
"That sounds like a problem for a plastic surgeon," I remarked pointedly, before I clapped my hands over my mouth in horror. Instead of being offended, however, the strange woman smiled slightly again.
"Yes, you'd think so at first...unfortunately, however, this problem lies more than skin deep. I said before that my problem was unique in nature. You didn't know just how unique."
She paused slightly, and I leaned forward, clasping my rubber-coated hands in front of me, waiting. When her lips opened again, I said that there was nothing inside her mouth. No teeth, no gums, no tongue, just a gaping hole of nothing. I watched in fascinated horror as her mouth moved once more.
"You see, dear doctor...I am invisible."
