Why was he 'yelling' at me? Didn't he know I couldn't hear him through the glass? I remember thinking ... "What? What? I can't hear you, you know."
As the sedan turned left onto Linden Street the boy turned away from me and disappeared. I continued on County Street toward my destination even though everything inside of me begged me to follow that sedan.
As I drove on I couldn't get his face out of my mind ... then ... I realized. In my head. And in my gut. He wasn't physically there in that car. That little boy wasn't 'real'. Something about his appearance was 'off''.
When he was looking at me through the back window of the sedan if he had been in that car physically he would have been kneeling on the back seat and facing me directly. He was pale. He was paler than any living, breathing child I had ever seen. His coloring contrasted with his short black hair and black glasses. When his mouth moved to 'yell' at me it moved in an odd way, as if he was exaggerating his words so that I could understand better. But I was unable to understand what he was saying to me. And his jaw when he yelled extended beyond what anyone could have done with their jaw. As he turned around as the car drove away he would not have been able to move with such ease if he had been physical. The movement would have been impossible. I believe that as I watched him I knew he wasn't 'real' which was why I wanted so desperately to follow the car to prove to myself that he wasn't physically there.
Plus what was he 'yelling' at me? What did he want me to know? He didn't seem angry. He just seemed desperate for me to hear him. Who was he?