As he was telling me about the projects in his auto-mechanics class, a flash of white dashed from left to right within the glow of the headlights; a blink and one would've missed it. He continued talking as he moved his head to follow the movement to a dimly lit shed off the road. With his eyes focused outside the window he stopped mid-sentence, turned his head slowly back around to face me and with cautious tone he spoke.
"Can rabbits climb walls?"
I, in turn, flipped the turn signal and slowly moved my head to face him as we approached a stop sign. I met his gaze; both of us searching the other's eyes for an answer. He broke the silence, "I think that rabbit just ran up the side of that building."
I returned my eyes to the road as the turn signal flipped back; we were on our way out of Peabody. I offered a nervous, unknowing chuckle and made a lame, half-uttered joke about the "Spider-Rabbit", but the ominous undertone of the wall-climbing rabbit could not be shook from the evening.
