If he held the water or banana in his mouth, with his mouth open, it could only be seen from the same angles as if he were visible. Someone behind him, he determined, could not see anything in his mouth. So much for the Hollywood script writers.Jeremiah splashed some water on himself. To his amazement, the minute it made solid contact with his skin, the water passed directly though him. While clothing remained visible, water or even soda or coffee turned just passed on through. He jumped into the shower and could actually see the spray pass through his own body. Now this definitely had possibilities. He stepped out of the direct spray and cranked up the hot, filling the small bathroom with steam. As nearly as he could tell, the steam was undisturbed when he walked through it. Another theatrical myth destroyed.He next made a small puddle and walked though it. There was no sign of his passage, and he did not leave any wet footprints behind. He walked into the bedroom and could not see. She had that tiny satisfaction, that final bit of control over him.Kyle's big pickup wasn't in the driveway when the taxi drew up at the curb. Peggy was irritated. Her husband should be here. He was her only solace now. He wouldn't care why she'd been discharged. He would comfort her and love her.When she walked in the front door, she immediately knew something else was wrong with her day. The grandfather's clock that had stood against the long wall in the foyer since they'd bought the house was gone. The umbrella stand in the corner was missing too. When she walked into the living room, it was empty save for a few scraps of brown wrapping paper scattered here and there. The house was silent. A chill worked its way down her spine. The house felt abandoned... empty.Her cell phone rang again. She looked at the display. It was Kyle."Kyle!" she said sharply. "Where are you? Where's all the furniture? What's going on, damn it?" Her voice rose the longer she spoke. She was angry, hurt....
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