The Boy Who Knew Tomorrow

One summer afternoon, my parents took my sister and me to the community lake. While they set up our picnic lunch, I wandered to the small dock to skip stones. A boy I had never seen before was sitting there, his feet dangling in the water. He looked a few years older than me.

He turned and spoke without greeting. “Your birthday is in autumn,” he said. I was surprised because it was true. My birthday is in October. “How did you know that?” I asked, my voice quiet.

He looked out across the water, not at me. “I know a lot of things that will happen,” he replied. “You will get a red bicycle next year.”

A cold feeling, not from the lake water, went through me. I had been begging for a red bicycle for months, but no one knew about it outside my family. I backed away from the dock, my heart beating fast. I turned and ran across the grass to where my mom was spreading out a blanket.

I told her everything, my words tumbling out in a rush. She held my hand and we walked back to the dock together. We looked all around the shore, but the boy was gone. The only sign anyone had been there were small, wet footprints on the wooden planks, which were already drying in the sun.