ON THE HIGHWAY
A simple encounter, respectful and heartfelt. A
ghostly visit, true but not of the usual type. No
screams or hairs standing on their ends instead we
were part of the departure, there at the time when
his spirit moved unexpectantly from his body, into
the invisible world on the highway on which we
were travelling.
We were returning to the coast after dark on a
Sunday night. The Geelong Highway had always felt
empty and desolate to me even when streaming with
cars commanding: 'it will be good to be off this
road' feeling. May be it was the accidents that
weren't uncommon on this road, the bleak landscape
either side, who knows.
Sunday traffic returning home suddenly began to
crawl. What up? we wondered, accident for sure.
Slowly, slowly we drive in line. Police car and
flashing lights ahead. We spoke quietly to each
other, my friend and I. 'Whats going on?' Booze
bus?. Flash light and a waving arm calls us ahead.
A silent beauty resides outside the car. 'Look on
the ground'. my friend points. We see a blanket
has been placed over a body lying in the other
lane, hard surface. No sign of a car accident, no
car smashed up, only the cop car. "How does a
person end up on the highway like that. 'Poor
bloke', we say. The police at not standing near
this body. 'A lonely death', we feel this but say
nothing. We crawl on, the police wear green strips
on their jackets that glow in the dark. We are
allowed to witness this scene. Last respects, a
convoy of mourners along the highway.
We pass the motionless man under the blanket alone
on the hard surface. We know it is a man. Then
without the onset of grief tears pour from my
eyes. He feels confused and wonders where he is.
He passes through me, he's not sure where he is
going or what happened. His 'voice' speaks to me: I
had a thing to do, I was going somewhere tonight,
plans are now unraveled, who was I supposed to
meet, are you me?'
Don't look back to where your body lays, go with
grace into a better place far away. True, the
tears I shed were your confusion and disbelief.
But we have thought of you often, my friend and
me, and wished you had not died that way, alone on
the highway.
Submitted from: Poe Maxwell, Victoria, Australia
[Home]
Did you feel that?' my friend says. 'It was him
wasn't it? He passed through me.' 'Me too.'
The traffic speeds up and we are off again,
travelling along the highway. 
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[September 2000 Ghost Stories]