“Honk your horn. I think he’s asleep.” She taps on the car horn politely.
“Doesn’t look like he’s on the phone or anything. Maybe he’s asleep,” she says.
They sit for a moment and she taps the horn again.
“What do you think he’s doing up there?” he asks.
“I don’t know. He’s got his hands on the wheel, but he’s not moving. Nice fedora, by the way.”
“Think I should go check on him?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Isn’t it always dangerous to get out of a car in a situation like this?”
“Like what? We don’t even know what the situation is.” He unbuckles his seat belt. “I’m going to go check. Maybe something’s wrong.”
“Be careful,” she says as he opens the passenger door and gets out of the car. She turns off the radio and wonders what he see’s as he approaches the car and then raps his knuckles on the driver side window of the car ahead of her. He signals to the other driver to roll down his window by making a circular motion with his hands, but the drive does nothing.
When he gets back in the car, he says, “You won’t believe this. We’d better call for an ambulance.”
“Why, what’s wrong?” she asks.
“I think the old geezer is dead,” he says.
“Whoa,” she says as she turns the radio back on.