The Sky is Falling

Chapter Nine - Elliott Moore

"I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you."

Sunday, May 24th

9:00 PM

I take a deep breath and reluctantly turn the doorknob. Three cops stare back at me.

"Good evening," a tall bald officer says. "We're sorry for the late visit, but we need to discuss a matter that might involve someone at this address."

"Uh... sure, okay." I step aside and they all come in. They glance around and turn back to me.

"Are your parents home?"

"Yes, they're upstairs."

"Alright, may we speak with your parents for a moment? We have a few questions regarding a missing persons case."

"Yeah, I'll go get them."

I jog up the stairs, my footsteps muffled on the shag carpet. Reaching the top, I pause at my bedroom door, peeking inside. Reagan is sitting on my bed, her eyes wide with concern.

"Maybe you should come down," I suggest softly.

She nods, her gaze shifting to the floor as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands up.

I turn and head towards my parents' room, my heart beating a little faster. When I enter, I find them sitting up in bed, settling in in their pajamas and watching TV. My mom looks up from her book.

"Uh, there are police downstairs who want to speak with you guys," I say.

A look of shock crosses their faces, my mom flings her book down. My dad shuts off the TV and strides to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out onto the street. My mom hurries down the hall to wake up my little brother, Raphael.

Reagan and I follow after my mom, my dad lagging behind.

As we gather downstairs, a shorter, stockier officer acknowledges Raphael.

"Hey, sport," he says and flashes him a smile.

Raphael, sitting on my mom's knee, groggily stares at the random strangers in our living room.

"No need to be afraid, we're here to just ask a few questions. We're not going to hurt anyone." He tries to reassure him, sensing the anxiety in the room.

The third cop clears her throat and addresses my parents, "Sorry to bother you at this hour, we're just here to ask a few questions regarding a disappearance report we've received."

"Okay." my mom says.

The officer nods, appreciating her cooperation. "We've been trying to piece together some information about a boy named Zachary Baker. We understand he was a friend of your son?"

"Yes, he has been good friends with my son Elliott," she gestures to me, "since they were young."

The officer nods, pulling out a notebook from his jacket pocket. He starts jotting down some notes, turning towards me.

"When was the last time you saw or heard from Zachary?"

"Thursday before school got out. I had detention. When I got out, I checked my phone and he texted me that he had seen fliers for a hot air balloon festival. He invited me to go, but obviously," my voice cracks a little, "I didn't get the messages until it was too late."

"I see. So the last time you two talked was through text messages." He glances up at me. "Do you know where this hot air balloon festival was?"

"Yes, I believe he said it was at the park downtown in those fields across from the ice cream shop."