That car? Oh, I'll tell you more than that.

I'll tell you about the man that

owns it. And when I'm done tellin, well you just might call me a liar. That's
right. Cause the man that owns that there car, I'm tellin ya right here and now;
He ain't no man at all.

He moved into the old Townes' residence across the street about three months
back now, I guess. He's been parking that pretty car on the street ever since.
Why on the street, Elaine and I just couldn't figure. Old Mr. Townes, before
he'd gone off and died, had kept his garage, like everything else about the
Townes place, nice and tidy. Why the stranger would park on the street, day
after day, was anybody's guess. Oh, it was safe enough all right. He coulda'
left the keys in it, might have at that, and it'd be safe round these parts. Ya
might think that maybe he'd taken up woodworking in the garage, but that makes
no sense neither. He could have parked that beauty right in the gravel drive,
but nope, same place of the street, right next to the alley. Well, no one in
this town was going to be the first to ask him why. A man's business is a man's
business and besides, there ain't no law that says he can't, now is there? Word
at the PJ's Market had it that Sandy Mueller, the widower and the man's neighbor
on the left, had tried to make conversation one morning at dawn a while back.
Apparently the McKinsey boy had gone and thrown the morning paper between the
two driveways. Always was a lazy kid that one, but he was the son of Andy
McKinsey the town sop, so it made lots of sense when you considered it; you
know, apples from the tree and all. Anyways, Sandy was just bending to pick that
there paper from the grass, wet of dew by now no doubt, when he heard the
stranger crunching up the driveway from the street in his tan trenchcoat and
hat. No one, not that I'd heard anywho, had ever seen that man without that same
long coat and old hat. Odd choice of clothing for the summertime, but to each
his own. Ayuh. From what I'd gathered, Sandy, a nice old guy if you ignored the
smell of sweat that stuck to him, had not been more than five feet from the man
when he said, "Good mornin' to ya!" just as plain as I'm sayin' it to you and
the man had walked right past without so much as a nod to say he'd even noticed
Sandy standing there. Sandy'd said he'd just walked straight up his driveway and
into his house. So far as I know, oh and everybody would know alrighty, believe
you me, the man's never shopped in town nor spoken a single word to anyone
hereabouts a'tall. In fact, no one has even gotten a look at his face. Not
leastwise till the night I met him.

Two weeks ago last night it was when I was walking old Ginger for her evening
constitutional. I was late taking her out that night because my Ellie had made
cold turkey sandwiches, it bein' so hot that afternoon and cooking would'a just
made the house hotter. Anyways, turkey always makes me sleepy and no sooner'n I
sat in my big chair after dinner, but that I snoozed straight off. Well, Ginger
didn't stand that for too long a time, she's pretty regular like, and she
nuzzled me awake before long.

The sun had gone down about a half-an-hour before and the street lights was
shining by the time we hit the sidewalk. The night wasn't cool but a nice breeze
was blowing and the stars had just come out as we started down Elm, this street
right out the front door. That way's town, 'bout a mile or two down, but we
don't go near that far. Nope, Ginger likes the streetlamp at the end of the
alley an we always just head there straightaway. She was in a hurry that night I
suspected 'cause I had made us late, and as I said, she's real regular like.

We were no more than halfways there, it's just half a block that ways, when the
new man I was tellin' you about, drove right past me and Ginger and pulled into
the spot this end to the alley. And I suppose you could say it was his spot now,
but I won't. Well, you coulda' thought an ambulance and a fire truck had just
tore by with their horns all a honkin' and their lights a blazin the way Ginger
acted when that stranger got outta that car of his. She just about tripped me up
she got so close against my legs. Usually she's a nosin the ground the whole
way, but she'd been in a bit of a hurry that night cause'a we were so late. Not
no more. She kept walking with me, but she wasn't in no hurry, that's for sure.
I didn't pay this too much of a mind at the time because I was just a bit
curious about this stranger that no one had talked to in the three months he'd
been hereabouts and drove a car near as old as me and wore a coat and hat in the
peak of summertime. You could say I was a bit more than curious, ayup. I figured
he might be one a those strange writer fellas ya hear about.

By the time Ginger and I had walked to where he had parked he had closed the
driver-side door and was behind the car unlocking the trunk. I couldn't see his
face for the shadow from his hat brim, but I'd say he was a tall man. Yes, he
was tall, over six foot, but the most striking feature was his build. He looked
half-starved. Now, I know what your a thinkin', "Jim, how could ya tell the man
was that thin if'n he was wearin a long coat?" And normally, I guess you could
say you'd be right. I couldn'ta. But this wasn't normal at all. This guy was so
thin you could see all the bony angles stickin' right through, coat and all. As
he bent and reached into the trunk of the car, all the bent places on him where
the coat met his skin, they just got all skinny-like. It was like a stick man
was under all that coat. No substance to 'im a'tall. Now, I could see that he
was tryin real hard to get something big outta that trunk cause of all the
huffing noises he was a makin. Well, he's my neighbor after all an Ellie and I
have always made for good neighborly peoples, so I walked over to see if'n I
couldn't lend a hand. I was about twenty feet away from him, just about to go
clearin my throat as I approached so's not to scare the poor fella when Ginger,
who'd been real quiet-like right next to my legs til now, ran in the opposite
direction whining her fool head off. Well, when she'd met the end of her leash,
it yanked so hard that, being unprepared as I was, I was spun partways around.
Just then, just that very instant as I was spinning, my other arm, the one that
was not bein yanked outta my shoulder by Ginger but was spinnin around behind
me, was grabbed at the forearm by what felt at the time like a metal claw. When
I turned my head in surprise to check, there he was, the stranger, holding me
with an impossible and painful grip. Oh, I don't mean impossible for such a thin
man. I mean impossible for any man. I still have the marks, you see? If'n he'd
squeezed just a tad tighter, I know he'd a broken my arm with that hand. Well, I
was so surprised and shocked by that grip that I must have let go of Ginger's
leash because she and the leash were both long gone when next I thought about
normal earthly things.

I don't know how he got to me so fast. As I said, I was about twenty feet away
still when Ginger acted up, I know because I measured it as best I could one
afternoon when I was sure that he was gone. But as soon as I turned my head, he
was right there beside me with my arm in his claw. I mean his hand. I can't be
sure, I really can't be sure at all with all the strange ways that shadows can
sometimes fool the eyes, and just the one streetlamp overhead to see by, but it
sure didn't look like no regular hand to me, no sir. There wasn't no meat on it.
Looked like no more than skin atop bone it did. More like the claw of a big bird
than anything else I reckon. Oh, then I looked at his face, or where a face
should be on regular folk. The streetlamp was shining straight down on us and
with his hat and all makin a shadow, I couldn't see no great detail at all at
first, but what I did see froze my breath in my chest and give me those
drenaline shakes in my legs. Now I been through the end of Korea and even saw
most of the Nam, but nothing I ever saw scared me like this here did. His face
was like what you hoped was not in the closet or under the bed when you was a
little kid, but this wasn't in no closet or under no bed. This was standing
right smack in front of me.

He didn't have no face, or not a face like any man... or any animal neither that
I've ever heard told of. Not any animal I've seen pictures of neither, unless
maybe your talking 'bout those animals that live real far under the ocean that
never see the light and pop when you bring them up. And it wasn't like he had
his face shot off like some a the guys in the war. No, what he had was unnatural
enough, but it looked like he growed up with it. His eyes were the strangest
part. I'm sure they were his eyes cause I could just tell they were lookin
right at me, they seemed to be lookin right into me. They were big round moist
eyes and they met, one to another in the middle like a pair of those wrap-around
sunglasses and they were dark and they seemed to move strangely, rippling like
they were full of some thick and eerily thoughtful liquid. It was real hard to
look at anything else once I had seen those eyes. There was a hunger in there. I
felt like they were almost talking to me, that if I could just understand what
they were saying, what each undulation across their wet black surface meant,
that everything would be alright. I would be safe.

He had released my arm. When? I don't know. I don't know how long I stood there
looking into his eyes, but it seemed like hours. I do know that when I realized
this, I also saw that he was already back reaching into the old Chevy's trunk
while I just stood there, still about twenty feet from the car where I'd been. I
just stood there watching as he pulled a large stuffed Navy sea-bag from the
trunk and hefted it in one hand, closing the trunk with the other. I suddenly
knew what was in that bag that he handled so easily. I couldn't explain how if
you asked, but I just knew, like I know my own Ellie's name, that it was a body.
He didn't look at me again, but crossed the street into his driveway and
disappeared into the shadows of the trees around the place.

By the time I got back to the front door of this house, I was shaking so bad I
couldn't scarcely walk. Lucky thing Ellie goes up to bed to read after she
cleans up the dinner mess, so I didn't have to worry about her askin after
Ginger right away. Besides, Ginger was right outside the back door waitin when I
checked, right as rain.

Now, I haven't told Ellie about this. I haven't told anyone at all. I'm tellin
you because I need someone to know, just in case something happens to me, so
that you can see after Ellie. That stranger never spoke a single word to me, if
he is even capable of such a thing at all, but he made it crystal clear to me, I
don't know how, I just somehow know that I am safe for now. For now. The way he
sees it, I didn't get in his way and I didn't take him from his feeding. So, for
now I am safe.
Ginger will just have to go out herself from now on after dinner.

~ Thom Comstock