Jimmy wondered if the kid had been sedated by his uncle before he showed up today. He was well-behaved. There was no stalling, no protest, he just sat down and let him cut his hair. But sedative or no, he could never keep his mouth shut.
“What is new in your little life, Jimmy?” he said.
Jimmy smiled. “Well, actually, my daughter is -”
“I am trying to establish myself in the art world.”
“I didn’t know you were an artist.”
The kid flinched at the scissors. “I work anonymously, Jimmy, but I have great dreams. One day I will create an invisible work. Have you heard of this phenomenon?”
“Invisible art?” said Jimmy. “I can’t say I have.”
“Just imagine you and I visit the art museum, Jimmy,” said the kid. “We see the Matisses, the Monets, the Dutch masters, mayhaps a sculpture of some buttocks -”
“I’m not much of a museum guy.”
“But we have paid extra to see the special exhibit, the main event, so to speak. We are led to the top floor and behind a curtain we are shown a pedestal. But atop the pedestal sits nothing. We gawk at it for some time and -”
“Why are we gawking at nothing?” said Jimmy.
“But ah!” the kid laughed. “It is not really nothing. It is art, or rather, a critique of what art can or cannot be.”
Jimmy went for the kid’s eyebrows. “That’s bull! We paid extra to see nothing but an idea?”
“Yes!” said the kid. “Now you understand.”
“I understand being ripped off! What kind of museum does that?”
“It is the artist doing it, Jimmy.”
“Doing nothing? You can’t make people pay for nothing and call yourself an artist.”
“You flatter yourself, Jimmy!” the kid laughed. “I have seen completely bald men walk in here and pay you plenty of money.”
Jimmy scoffed past this. “A pedestal with nothing on it.”
“It is genius, Jimmy, and I believe if I network my art properly, I will one day be able to create nothing myself.”
“Come on, you’re better than that.”
“No!” The kid waved at him to stop. “You are not thinking clearly! You must think like an artist!”
“Con artist, you mean!”
“Invisible art is the future, Jimmy! It is the only thing the AI cannot take from us!”
“Is that what this is about?” Jimmy held the kid’s head in place.
“The invisible arts can expand into film, literature, music, dancing!” said the kid. “Well, perhaps not dancing.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Hear this! Pretend there is an invisible man.”
“How much is that gonna cost?”
“His name is Nobody.” The kid yawned. “People line up, not to see him, of course, as there is nothing to see.”
Jimmy shook his head. “At least you’ve figured that out.”
The kid’s eyes closed. “They are there to high-five him, Jimmy!”
“It’s interactive, I’ll give you that.”
“The high-five is a true language of love, Jimmy,” the kid mumbled. “It is a celebration, a congratulation, and perhaps a Thank You, all combined into one gesture. And I defy you to find me a decent person who does not enjoy high-fives. I mean, that is not company you want to keep.”
“That’s very true.”
“Do you know what I have named the piece, Jimmy?”
“What piece?”
“High-fiving Nobody.”
He started to snore.
“Yeah,” said Jimmy, “your uncle must have slipped you something.”