Jason Guillemette’s memory of the event is hazy around the edges, like a half-forgotten dream. He was 13 at the time, living with his family in the remote Quebec mining town of Cadillac. It was September, around 9 p.m. He remembers being perched on the handlebars of a bicycle, like E.T., while his twin brother pedalled. They were on their way home from a friend’s house when they were suddenly bathed in an intense red light.