What is an hallucination anyway? Could it be simply a different and momentary 'way of seeing'?
Years ago, a friend drove considerable distance at night. When he arrived at his destination, he revealed (after refreshment and polite chat) that during a certain point in his journey (most of which was long stretches of bush-lined highway) he'd seen 'creatures' in the long grass and shrubs at the side of the road. He said they looked like little animals; cartoonish type animals, but had terrified him. Took a lot to scare him; he was a real lion-heart. But he'd been far too afraid to stop the car to take a closer look. Apparently the experience caused him to repeat childhood prayers for several hours during the drive.
Some years ago was driving along a wide, curved stretch of highway through a major tourist resort. It was just before noon; bright clear sunlight, several cars approaching me from the opposite direction; sky-scrapers less than half kilometre away. Everything absolutely normal. Walking casually along the side of the road, slightly ahead, was a long haired youth; no shirt, just wearing jeans. Seconds later, when I was only a couple of car-lengths from him, he suddenly swung around to face me, his body lowering to a semi-crouch and his features twisted in an animal grimace. He thrust his arms out in front of him in a clawing motion. As I passed directly by him, he stared into my eyes for a split second; his own face contorted. It was so sudden and unexpected that I remained shocked for several minutes. 'Why me?' I thought afterwards. It was as if he'd waited until the last minute before swinging around at me, in order to maximise the shock. Another car had passed him a minute or so before I, but he hadn't done anything to that driver.
Just as difficult to understand was an experience which occurred around the same time. We were at my brother's 35th birthday party. Mid-evening, my husband threw a hissy-fit; something he was prone to after too much alcohol. He stormed from the house and down the long drive-way, muttering and shouting to himself like a child. Allowing him five minutes to get it off his chest, I next gathered the children, said goodbye to the party-goers and set off along the road in the car, my intention being to pick my husband up along the way. My brother's house was on the bank of a river, so to get to the main road, I first had to cross an old bridge. Once on the main road, the children and I scanned the road ahead, fully expecting to see my husband at any moment. Finally, we saw him some distance ahead, lit by streetlights, walking in the centre of the road. It was him alright; no-one else walked like that. When under the influence, he walked with his legs splayed out, like a baby in a wet nappy. It was a comical effect, because he was about six foot two, thin as a drainpipe and had legs like a spider. He'd been putting off getting his hair cut and we could see the straggly bits at the back and the weird way it stuck out at the sides. He was also distinctive in that his head was small in proportion to his body.
We drew closer and I slowed the car down so that we were just behind him. It *was* him; he was wearing the check shirt I'd ironed earlier in the night, and was wearing the trousers I hated; pale blue, no pleats, bulging pockets and a bit too tight. When he didn't bother even to turn around to acknowledge the children and me, I drove until we were abreast of him. By this time, he was right alongside us; the children were pressed up against the windows, expecting him to turn and laugh and get into the car. But he didn't look at us and just kept up his stiff legged, wet-nappy idiocy. This went on for a bit and by this time I was fed up with him. The children had already been made anxious by his stupid storming out of the party, but it seemed he was determined to continue his childish behaviour, even in front of the children. So I leaned across the passenger seat and said through the window to him; 'Either you get in the car right now, or we're going home without you.'
At that point, he turned to look at us. His face was cold; expressionless. It took me what felt like several seconds to realize that although it was *almost* him, it was not him. It was someone else who was obviously almost an exact double of him. The children seemed to reach the same realisation at the same time and turned to look at me, shock on their faces. I suddenly felt very frightened and stepped on the accelerator. As we pulled away, I looked in the rear vision mirror to see him still stalking stiff legged down the centre of the road. Neither the children nor I could really believe what had just happened.
He turned up hours later. Next morning I asked him how he'd made his way home, because there was really only one road he could have taken, and we'd left only minutes after he had, yet hadn't passed him -- apart from his 'double'. He replied that he'd taken the same road as the children and me. I asked if he'd seen us drive past him. He was very vague and didn't seem able to remember. The children and I have discussed it since they've grown up. None of us has an explanation for what happened. We often comment on how awful it would have been if the man we'd seen had got into the car with us. But the truly awful part is ... the kids and I tend to the belief that the man we saw *was* my husband, but that his face had 'changed' in some subtle way; that he had become 'someone else'. We're divorced now. He was a bit weird.
