The Next Day

Despite what he and Betty had agreed to about trying to just forget what they had seen last night, Timothy could not stop thinking about it. A couple of times at work old man Cunningham had to scold him about making mistakes or not working but just daydreaming. As soon as six o'clock rolled around, Timothy hopped into his car and drove back out to the abandoned water tower.

His initial plan was to head out in the direction he had seen the craft moving towards, but as he neared the tower, another idea struck him. Turning the car around, he drove over to his friend's house. Billy had a set of binoculars he could borrow. Billy's family was in the middle of dinner, and Timothy politely turned down the offer of Billy's mother to sit down and eat with them. Quickly Timothy and Billy went upstairs, the binoculars exchanged hands, and Timothy was back in his car, once more speeding towards the water tower.

Parking behind the chain link fence, he got out and looked up at the imposing structure. It seemed even taller up close than it did from the distance. Briefly he considered chickening out, but the burning desire to make sense of it all spurred him on. Rather than trying to scale the fence, he walked around the perimeter, looking for a spot where the links had corroded enough for him to **** an opening.

He found one and wiggled his way inside. With the binoculars slung around his neck, he grabbed one of the rungs welded onto a leg of the structure and began his ascent. He only prayed that none of the rungs had succumbed to the ravages of the weather and exposure. The more he told himself not to look down, the more he did it. But despite his palpitating heart and dry mouth, he finally reached the platform circling the old, empty tank. He briefly considered climbing the ladder on the side to reach the very top of the structure, but decided against it. He should be high enough as he was.

The evening sky was turning shades of pink and lavender as the sun descended, but there was still plenty of light to view the fields and trees and gulleys before him. Slowly, methodically, he studied the terrain one small section at a time, the eyepieces pressed to his face.

There.

He saw it. A disk-like object in a clearing among some trees. Carefully noting the position, he tried to memorize its relationship to the nearest road.

It was almost dark by the time he set foot back on the ground. Sliding into his car, he hit the ignition and headed off, trying to keep the image from the tower firmly in his head.