He stood at the window, gazing intently across the lake, trying to see through the growing darkness. He thought he must be mistaken, that he could not have seen a light flicker in the old Harrison place. It had been empty for the past twenty years and, as far as he knew, no attempt had ever been made to sell it.
Besides, he doubted if real estate agents held viewings for old mansions late in the evening, when it was practically dark.
He could still remember vividly the day the Harrison family had pulled up stakes and moved, taking nothing but their clothing and other personal belongings. Nothing else. He remembered, even though he had only been 10 years old, because Becky and Carl Harrison had been his best friends. It had been the second saddest day of his young life. The most traumatic day had happened six weeks earlier. Thinking about it still sent cold shivers up his spine..
********************
It had started out as a beautiful day; the school year was over and the entire summer stretched ahead of them. They were looking forward to a summer of fishing, playing games, and swimming in the lake. Becky was planning picnic lunches that she could assemble by herself, and each time she talked about it she had a different menu.
"Wouldn't it be great if we could sneak a bottle of wine? Then we would just need grapes and cheese. It would be so grown-up," Becky said with a sigh.
"Not much chance of that happening, Beck," Carl said. "You know the wine is under lock and key."
"Wine is made from grapes," he had added. "We could have grape soda."
And he recalled how, on that day, the three of them had placed their hands one on top of the other and vowed to be friends for the rest of their lives. Then, he and Carl had gone further up the lake with their fishing rods while Becky went swimming and that was the last time anyone had seen her.
********************
On the way home from work the next day, he noticed a car in the Harrisons' driveway and stopped to check. Becky was standing in the living room of the old house, just letting the memories flood her mind, tears falling unnoticed, when he walked in.
For a minute, they stared at each other in silence.
"Dear Lord!" he said. "It can't be possible. Please tell me I'm not hallucinating."
"What isn't possible? Do I know you?" She frowned. "You do look kind of familiar."
He shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs. "Yeah, you do... at least I think so... Beck... you are Becky, aren't you?'
"Yes..." she said slowly, "and you are...? Oh my God! Timothy," she whispered. She wiped her eyes as tears began to flow, and suddenly they were hugging each other tightly. "You were in some of the old photos that Carl's wife gave me last year."
