Behind the steering wheel appears to be a dark figure of a man, but Sloan is unwilling to trust is terrified eyes. That is, not until the cop car's passenger door clunks open, and peels off years of rusted fusion. It was now that Ray Sloan knew his old partner was beckoning him from the icy grave.
The old man crouches away from view- a move he had performed often when the landlord would stop by for payment. He slinks back into the comfort of his chair and turns the volume up on the Tonight Show's guest singer, Justin Bieber- in the hopes that 'Baby, Baby' will drown-out the outside terror.
He doesn't know when the siren's flashing went away, as his eyes remained firmly shut all night.
Awaking in the sane light of day, Ray Sloan guesses it was around seven a.m- never one to be quite certain of the time since his grandfather's clock had stopped. Like the broken clock, Sloan too ceases to recognize the passage of time. But unlike the clock, he never made the title of grandfather or father- a wasted life spent wondering why he escaped the lake and his partner did not. Now the universe has given Ray Sloan an answer to his question in the shape of a patrol car driven by, he assumes, his dead partner. Back to taxi Sloan to the fate he avoided so long ago.
After growing from scared to angry during morning coffee and biscuits, the old man decides not to go gentle into that good night. He tosses on his best hat and slippers and marches his frail frame back to Farmer Bradley's field of autos. Asking around, it soon becomes apparent that Sloan was the only one to see the patrol car on display yesterday and he is assured that the empty plot has always been empty.
It was true then- the black and white cop car was for him and she was death herself. The old man stands on the empty plot where his nightmare once manifested herself, and he whispers to the windy grass around his slippers.
"You're not going to get me. You've cast a shadow over my whole life. Enough." Ray Sloan makes a decision then and there that he will not, under any circumstances, get into that car.
The Merry-go-round also then and there makes a decision to loose one of it's passengers. A small, freckle faced boy not unlike Huckleberry Finn looses his grip on the fast rotating carousel horse. Speed and gravity proceed to plow him into the ground. Horrified spectators rush to the boy's side, careful not to move him as he looks to be in the worst shape. As the crowd converges, something else moves onto the scene- a black and white car seems to ghostly roll through the crowd towards the boy's seemingly lifeless body.
