: Prompting Needed_

Follow Me

ti-toh-ti-toh-ti-toh

With every two-beat tick of the blinker, Michael tapped his finger on the steering wheel on the down beat. Ten taps on the smooth, aged leather and he started bobbing his head to the beat. It wasn't long after that he was humming a nameless, formless tune. Ahead of him, through the windshield, the license plate on the back of the truck was from Florida. The word 'Florida' made it into some rudimentary lyrics and just like that, the song devolved into Cheeseburger in Paradise. "Damn it," he murmured. The hairs on the back of the neck settled. "I was on a roll." The light above flipped over to green. Ha shook off his daydreaming and pressed down the gas, easing into the right turn that pointed him home. Florida truck had taken a left; it was smooth sailing towards Main Street. The apartments slid by in that unnoticed way when locals familiar with the scenery drove past, and Michael had passed by these homes too many times to count going to and from work. The first stop sign on this stretch made him pause, the second barely slowed him down. That's why – when the Hyundai rounded the curb to his left and slung itself in Michael's way – he had to stomp the brakes at the same time he laid on the horn.

 Embarrassment spread heat that crept up around his ears and settled behind his eyes. His heart boomed in his chest, and he took a long breath until the beating subsided. The almost-collision had taken all of a couple of seconds. Now, in the tense silence, Michael lightly gripped the wheel with both hands and drove through the intersection, his eyes forward and rapt on the traffic ahead. The new car he was now following was a Hyundai (a fancy, newer one) and its license plate was local. "H-T-P-seven-eight-one-eight-eight," Michael murmured. "Huh, that's only two from my tag." He leaned forward and blinked a few times to make sure he was reading that right. Down to the letters, the expiration date, and the simple Georgia iconography surrounding it, Hyundai's tag was almost a dead ringer for Michael's Toyota's. The chance of that was incredibly reasonable, of course. But still, Michael smiled as he leaned back. They both stopped at the only light that mitigated the busy throughway before pulling into the cramped streets of the Downtown district. "Neat," he said. "Neat-neat-neat." The light turned green. Hyundai pulled across the road then over the railroad tracks that served as the border into downtown. Michel followed suit. The Hyundai took a left, the same left that Michael took every time going home. That wasn't too odd. Most people took the left as it kept them from having to navigate the small maze of the cramped streets that made the way for the smaller businesses. The two drove past the right-hand turn past the tavern that Michael would have sworn the Hyundai should have taken. It wasn't very often traffic moved beyond the turn like Michael did, which was why he often drove straight instead. But at the the next right, though, Michael would turn, and Hyundai would be on its Hyun-way. He smiled. "Gotta remember that for later," he said into the car. The next right came, however, and Hyundai took the turn right before him. "Now that is odd," Michael muttered in a sing-song voice, drawing out the last word in a warble. Michael stared at the bumper ahead of him, then flicked his eyes to the right. He twitched a finger towards the right. Hyundai's brake lights turned off and Hyundai ambled straight through the intersection. It drove forward with purpose into the older part of the neighborhood surrounding the downtown district and over the massive homemade speed bump Mrs. Erstry had put up herself. The Hyundai took the bump at an angle to avoid the massive puddle that had grown during the day's constant-yet-soft rain. "Who are you," Michael mused as he drove diagonally over the bump. At the next stop sign, there was no choice. They both had to go right onto the one-way street. But at the next stop, the four-way all-stop intersection, Michael tensed. He laid one hand on his leg as the other gripped the steering wheel with a rolling grip that rippled his forearm. Three other cars approached the intersection, each from the other three directions. Hyundai turned on its blinker, indicating left. "You're going to think I'm stalking you," Michael said as he too pressed down on the blinker's lever.

ti-toh-ti-toh-ti-toh

The car from across the four-way was coming from the neighborhood that further skirted the downtown district. The right car was driving from downtown and looked like it was heading right. The left car had Tony, his only neighbor, at the wheel; he and Tony spied each other at the same time. Michael offered a small wave to which Tony nodded back. Hyundai pulled out and turned left. Michael paused as the other cars at the four-way took their turn after Hyundai then slowly followed Hyundai onto the Main Street connector. He stared at the back bumper and the window above, his mouth screwed into a light frown. His eyes drifted down to the license plate again. "Not South Carolina so you're not family of Tony's." He slid into the path behind Hyundai and then – with a shake of his head – let out a breath he had been holding through a sudden, wry smile. "Whatever," he breathed.

With deliberate care, Hyundai pulled into his parking space. The only space he ever used to park for the night. The one his landlord had said it was the one he HAD to use. Then the tails lights of the Hyundai cycled from drive to park with its telltale white flicker of the reserve lamps. Hyundai was solidly parked. Michael drove past his spot onto his wife's allotted driveway and then he too moved his shifter to 'P'. He scowled out the window at te Hyundai which was rocking as its driver shuffled around in there. Michael undid his belt, got out, slammed his door, and approached Hyundai. He kept his steps to the sidewalk, avoiding the grass. He was about ten feet away when the Hyundai's driver door opened and its driver stepped out as well, the back of his head covered in a thick mat of curls. "Excuse me," Michael called. "I'm sorry, but you're in my spot."

"I'm sorry, what?" The man turned and Michael stopped midstride. The driver had no beard or moustache. His cheeks were full. But his eyes were the same.

"Oh god," Michael exclaimed. "You..." The driver's face stared at Michael, wide-eyed with blue eyes with that one eyelid that dropped just ever-so-slightly. Michael took in the man. The driver was in a knitted cardigan. Michael frowned. The driver had – at some point in his life – had decided that shaving the center of his crown and letting the rest grow around it was the right move. "You're me," Michael breathed.

"I'm sorry," Hyundai Michael said again as he slowly closed his door and took a couple of steps back then a few more forwards with an outstretched hand, fingers extended to offer a shake. "Have we met? You look so-"

"You're me," Michael said again with more force. His throat and body wiggled in the same intensity as he stepped forward to place his fingers on the car. "How are you me?" His fingers slipped, not across the polished Hyundai trunk, but through. Michael stumbled; his balance thrown by the unexpected incorporeal nature of the car. He glanced down. His arm was enclosed in the surface of the Hyundai to the wrist. The car solidity remained a constant, however. Hyundai Michael came forward and pointed to Michael's arm.

"How are you doing that?"

Michael opened his mouth to speak but the air in his chest didn't go up and out. It went out, floating out of him like dandelion fluff in the wind. He withdrew his hand from the Hyundai and placed his hand on his chest. He mouthed words. His eyes swam. Hyundai Michael reached out and-

~~~

Mike watched a ghost die in front of him. He glanced towards where the ghost's car – a beat-up looking Toyota – had been parked. Amber mist melted away in a small ray of sun that was peeking out right before the end of the day. A shiver ran through him from his chest to the tip of his head and he blinked. Two small tears fell from both eyes, and he palmed them with surprise. He turned back to where the man made of mist had just been then Michael shook his head. He stooped and locked his Hyundai. "Too much time at the office," he said as he made his way to the front door. For a second, his feet crossed over themselves and he stumbled on the raised cement of the walkway. He braced himself on the banister leading to the porch and he softly chuckled. "I need a tea and a nap."