The Night Timothy Bellow Disappeared 

By jinnis

Everyone remembered the night Timothy Bellow crashed the midsummer party, stole his father's car, drove it into the river, and disappeared for good. Despite an intense search, he was never found. Some said his body would turn up downriver, scaring the shit out of an innocent angler. Others insisted he would waltz into the classroom one day, wearing his trademark grin and boasting of his adventures.

But the days turned into weeks. His dad's anger melted into desperation, and thirteen-year-old Timothy remained missing. The police closed the case two years later, but nothing could keep us kids from speculating about what had happened on that ill-fated midsummer night.

As usual, with unexplained events, the stories got wilder with each retelling. On a school outing, my best friend Becky, Tim's younger sister, insisted her brother had been abducted by aliens and that she had seen the flash of the engines when the pink flying saucer took off. Of course, everyone found this hilarious, and the teacher told her to stop making things up. Becky never mentioned aliens again, and I doubt she ever believed her own tale—or remembered it later.

Kids grow up, and a disappearance in the long distant past couldn't compete with the exciting things happening in the world. The years went by, and the tragic accident became a story used to remind kids to behave and stay away from cars and the river, unless they wanted to end like poor Tom Bellow.

In time, most of my old friends moved away or founded families. I decided on the former and dislocated to the city to attend the university. When I finished my studies and returned to the small town I had left behind, I found it hard to reintegrate. Two days after my arrival, I met Becky at the bakery.

"Sandrine, I didn't know you're back. This is such a pleasant surprise. You must join us for dinner—what about Friday?"

I agreed, glad I found someone I could catch up with. She told me where she lived and I joined her family on Friday afternoon. She had become a teacher and married her middle grade crush Daniel. Their third kid was on the way and she seemed content with her life.

We sat on her veranda, overlooking the riverside and sipping iced coffee in the summer heat while the toddlers played in the shade of a maple tree. "You have built yourself a small paradise here, Beck."

"I love it, and the kids are happy. What about you, Sandrine? Didn't you find the right one yet?"

"Not so far—the knights in white armour haven't appeared in my life yet." I didn't mention the sting piercing my heart after all those years when saw the wavelets of the river sparkling in the sunlight. The pain had dulled down while I lived in the city, but on this day, it was as sharp as ever, triggered by the beautiful view. Tim had died only ten minutes upriver from her. A shiver ran down my spine when a picture of his lifeless body floating by invaded my mind.

With a deep sigh, I turned my gaze away and onto Becky, who had her brother's hazel eyes and wild curls. Another wave of unwanted memories sloshed through my mind. Memories of that faithful summer night, when Tim dared me to join him in his endeavour and of me, a year younger, chickening out and watching him drive away to never be seen again.

"Earth to Sandy." Becky's voice tore me out of dreamland. "Something wrong?"

"I just thought about Tim, and that summer."

"Oh, that sad story. Haven't you gotten over it yet?"

"Of course I have." But had I? I had prided myself for years that I'd coped with it, but I wasn't sure anymore. "Did you ever get news about what happened back then?"

"Well, he has been declared officially dead two or three years ago. I think it was important for my parents to find closure." Becky shrugged. "It's been such a long time. He must have been swept away by the river that night in the thunderstorm."

I frowned, the pictures in my mind whirling in a kaleidoscopic blur. "I can't remember a thunderstorm."

"There definitely was—the lightning frightened me and the wind tore down branches of the willows by the river. That's why the police couldn't find traces." She looked at me and frowned. "You don't believe me? It's in the official report. Everyone says it was a thunderstorm that swept away the car when the river suddenly flooded. He probably wriggled out of the open window and was caught in the torrent."

That was definitely weird, and not how I recalled things. But then, I had been shocked and might have romanticised the scene. I shrugged. "Of course I believe you. As you said, it's been a long time, and I don't remember everything."

But I was sure I could. When Daniel returned from work, he joined me on the veranda while Becky prepared dinner. We made mostly small talk until he caught me glancing at the river for the umpteenth time.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is, but it still reminds me of that night."

He had been a close friend of Tim's and knew exactly what I was talking about. "The night of the thunderstorm?"

Here it was again. "Yes, that one. It's probably just that I haven't been here for years. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a tragic accident—you were friends with Tim, right?"

I nodded, but was glad when Becky called us in for dinner.

The rest of the evening made me almost forget about the old story, but when I walked home along the bank in the twilight, my thoughts wandered back to that summer ten years ago. The air was dry and clear and I could make out the first stars above the treetops, just like back then. A soft breeze whispered in the willow branches, and I sighed. It was time to grow up and let go. A sudden gust rippled the water as if to underline my determination. And then, I heard the thunder roll over the hills and my memories returned as sharp as a knife's edge.

Tim and I had been sitting in the branches of the ancient oak by their house on the hill, stealing an awkward first kiss when the rolling thunder made us look up. But the sky had been clear, with the stars sparkling like diamonds and not a cloud in sight.

"Look!" Tim pointed towards the south, where a bright light had appeared over the river, flickering from yellow to blue to pink. "What's that?"

"Must be lightning." But it was too static for this explanation, and the colours didn't fit.

"Let's go find out." Tim slipped out of the tree in a fluid motion and I followed, ripping my dress on a broken branch and scratching my leg. "Hurry, Sunny. I don't want to miss it."

Anger and frustration about my spoiled garment made me hesitate. "Why is this so important?"

"I don't know—just hurry, will you?" He was already half the way to his father's car, and I limped behind, trying to ignore the pain in my leg.

"Tim, you can't take the car. You don't have a license."

"Dad taught me how to drive. Just get in."

This did it. I wasn't helping him steal a car just to investigate some weird lights. "I'll stay."

His moonlit face showed an expression I couldn't place as he started the engine and tore out of the driveway. I was sure someone would come running and stop him, but they were all busy carrying stuff inside, afraid of the incoming storm. I searched for my mum, and when she saw my torn dress and injury, she insisted we go home early.

We got the news of Tim's disappearance the next day, leaving me to deal with the guilt. Could I have prevented the accident if I'd gone with him?

Another heavy gust brought me back to the present. What were these lights shining through the bank vegetation? I stepped closer, my heart beating like a drum, and pushed away a few branches of a weeping willow tree. Over the water hovered something. Something bulky, pink, and spotted with blinking lights.

A soft voice behind my back made me jump.

"Are you ready for the adventure of your life, Sunny?"

I hadn't heard my childhood nickname for ages, and I remembered the night he used it first in the tree house well enough. "Tim?"

Despite the changes, I recognised him at the first glance I got when the foreign lights illuminated his face. These were the same hazel eyes I used to get lost in, the same lopsided half grin.

"What—I thought... everyone said—" I interrupted my babbling and ran a hand over my eyes. But I wasn't dreaming.

"I'm sorry, Sunny. I came back for you a few years ago, but you had left and I couldn't find you."

"I was out of town."

"I realised. I left a tracker with your DNA in Becky's place, in the hope you'd return one day."

I frowned, fighting to make sense. "My DNA? Where did you get it?"

He held up his arm, showing me the faded and much worn friendship band I had made for him that summer.

"But why? Everyone said you drowned. Why didn't you come back earlier?"

"I couldn't. Listen, I'd like to introduce you to my world. Do you trust me?"

A loaded question, and one I couldn't answer on the spot. He seemed to read my thoughts. "I won't pressure you—I can only ask. Let me show you something."

I followed him down to the bank. The lights had disappeared, but when he pulled a small box from the pocket of his coverall, a single blue light appeared above the river and outlined a massive pink shape. Out there, over the water, hovered a thing I could only describe as a flying saucer.

Tim touched my arm. "Isn't she a beauty?"

I struggled to find words. "It's ... an effing spaceship."

"Yes, and I'd like to take you for a ride. What do you say?"

I couldn't help a smile spreading on my face. This time, I wouldn't chicken out.