Pallida Mors(part 2)

Creeping up to the driver’s window I had to get right up to it before I saw the occupant. It was a young man lying in the seat, which he had tilted all the way back. His eyes were closed and his features were that of someone at peace. He had pale skin and his head was completely shaven. He wore a goatee like so many young men do and he was dressed in a black tank top and jeans. He had the stereo so loud that music was shaking the car. Once again I felt like I was looking into a different world. That quarter inch of glass separated his world of desperate pain and my own. I wanted no part of his world, but I had no choice. My hand was shaking as I reached out. 

I tapped on the window. Nothing happened. The young man didn’t move. ‘I’m too late’ I thought to myself and wondered if his skin would be cold when I checked for a pulse.

I tapped harder. Suddenly the young man’s eyes flew open and he focused confusedly on my startled face. We stared at each other for an eternity and then his eyes grew violent.

“What!” he screamed through the glass.

All I could think of to say was “Are you alright?”

He locked his eyes onto mine and I saw his right hand slide from his lap to the side of his seat. He grew frustrated as he reached further under the seat, searching, but still glaring at me. I backed away, thinking that if it was a gun he was looking for then there would be two more spirits roaming the park. I ran through the mud, through the trees, and along the paved trail and made it to my truck.

When I reached the fire department they asked me questions that I could not answer. I had forgotten the license plate number. I had forgotten the make and model. I didn’t know the street name. The firemen weren’t impressed and I’m not sure that they believed me at first. After a few minutes they decided that I was serious and they dispatched two units to the scene. I was driving home when I decided to go see what happened. When I arrived the Captain of the squad pointed to the end of the cul-de-sac to an empty spot.

“Is that where he was?”

“Yes.”

“Well he’s gone now.”     

  I was happy. “Then he didn’t kill himself!”

“He’ll just probably go somewhere else and do it. You sure that you can’t remember that license plate?” I just shook my head in disgust with myself. How could I be so stupid? Especially when the stakes were so high.

I’ve kept the image of that face on the other side of the window in my thoughts over the last couple of years. I’ve fretted and gone over the scenario a thousand times, berating myself for not doing things differently. Mostly, I’ve wondered if he made it, if he found the strength to stay alive.

This week I finally got an answer.

I saw the face again on the front page of the newspaper. This young man was arrested as an accessory to a quadruple homicide.

Now I wonder what would have happened if I never had tapped on that window.

Take care.