Tevun Krus #123 - The Mandela Effect

The Night Timothy Bellow Disappeared - A Story by @jinnis

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?"