A little boy lost track after running after an ice cream truck. He knocked on every door in an unfamiliar neighborhood, begging for help to go home, only to freak out when his carbon copy opened the door. Little Dale was walking with his grandma, Dorothy, on a crowded marketplace. He held her hand, tied just like she instructed him to when in crowded places. Dorothy assumed he was still holding her hand, but when she looked down, he wasn’t there.
Her finger was brushing against the broccoli popping out of her bag. Dorothy panicked and recalled seeing an ice cream truck just moments ago. She suspected Dale ran after it and panicked, looking around for him. “Damn, damn, my boy, where are you?” she shouted, tears streaming down her frightened eyes.
“Hey, did you see a small boy? He’s seven,” Dorothy asked passersby, but nobody had seen him. “Jesus, please bring him back, my little boy. Where’d he go?” Dorothy looked around for Dale but never found any traces of him.
For a moment, she thought he could have been kidnapped, but who would kidnap the grandson of a poor, humble merchant of fresh garden produce? Sure, he ran after that ice cream truck, but where is it? “Dorothy’s instincts were right. Little Dale had been bugging her to buy him ice cream, and when he saw the vanilla go over hand, he ran after him. He followed the truck that sped toward a different neighborhood and realized pretty lady was lost and far away from the market.
Dale stared at the huge buildings that appeared scary. He was small and had never been out alone. His gut tickled in fear, hearing vehicles honking behind him. He ran toward a cluster of houses nearby to ask for help. “Who is it?
a lady answered after hearing Dale knock on the door. “I want to go home. Can you please help me? I want to go to Granny,” Dale cried. “Granny?
There’s no granny here. Go away,” shouted the lady, assuming it was a neighborhood kid pulling pranks on her. “No, please help me,” but the woman slammed the door on poor Dale’s face. Shattered and scared, he knocked on all the houses, begging for help, but he was turned away because everybody thought he was staging some trick as kids here had done it before. Dale almost gave up when he spotted one last house he missed knocking on.
He was hopeless but still gave it a try. The little boy knocked on the door, but nobody answered. He knocked again. This time, the door creaked open, giving Dale a shock of his life. He was staring at his carbon copy mirror.
“It is closer, different,” mumbled down. “What? Oh my God, Mom, come here,” the other boy shouted, calling out to Emma, who was equally startled after seeing Dale in his uncanny resemblance to her son, Peter. “Who are you, and how come you look like my son?” she asked.
“Come in. I ran behind the truck, and I turned around, and Granny wasn’t there,” Dale narrated in tears. Emma was shocked. She gave Dale some water and moments later peeked through the curtains after hearing cop sirens on the street. “He must be here for you.
Come with me,” she said, leading Dale by his hand. Emma approached a cop holding Dale’s photo, inquiring about him. “Officer, the boy’s here. He came here a while ago, and I made him stay. I was just about to call 9-1-1.
Dorothy got down from the patrol car and rushed to Dale. “Oh dear, why’d you leave me? My heart almost stopped beating. Thank goodness you’re all right, and thank you, dear. I’ll never forget your help,” Dorothy smiled at Emma, only to be jolted after seeing little Peter peep out from behind her.
“Jesus Christ, how’s this even possible?” she cried. “Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that. Please come in,” said Emma. Dorothy learned that Peter was not Emma’s biological son.
She was his stepmother, who had married a man named Simon six years ago. The name rang a bell to Dorothy. “Can I see his photo if you don’t mind?” Emma showed her wedding photo. Dorothy was shocked because the groom was her late daughter Sarah’s husband.
“But I thought he moved abroad. He never contacted me after my daughter’s funeral and gave his son Dale to me,” shrieked Dorothy, still confused about who Peters was. Emma realized what could have happened and revealed something that Dorothy never would have imagined. “Mrs. Turner, I think Peter here is also your grandson,” Emma said, showing Dorothy an old photo of two babies wearing similar red t-shirts and lying on Simon’s bed.
“I found this in the attic. Two babies. Is one of them Peter?” But Simon told me Sarah delivered twins but only one made it out of life, and that was Dale,” exclaimed Dorothy, carefully observing the picture. As it turned out, Dale was born 30 minutes after Peter.
Although Peter’s delivery was successful, the same didn’t happen during Dale’s complicated birth. As a result, Sarah died after he was born, and Simon blamed the newborn for his wife’s death. He hated Dale so much that he hid the news of Sarah delivering twins from Dorothy, who lived in another state. Then, after Sarah’s funeral, he gave Dale to Dorothy and told her he couldn’t take care of his only son, and Dorothy believed his lie. “My God, this is unbelievable,” Dorothy exclaimed.
She hugged Peter and Dale. “What do we do now? I want both my grandsons, but Simon won’t accept,” damn. Later that evening, Simon returned home and was shocked to see his mother-in-law in jail. “You, how are you here?
I moved here two years ago, and strangely, we never bumped into each other despite living in the same city,” answered Dorothy, furious and demanding an explanation. “It wasn’t unfair. I just couldn’t stand the sight of that kid, so I took Peter, my son, got rid of Dale. He killed my wife,” Simon argued. “Take him away from my house.
I’m always aware of my son’s insensitive behavior, but she felt this was too much. She feared the worst for Peter and thought sending him away with his grandma was best. After a lengthy legal tussle, Dorothy and Emma got custody of Peter. Emma divorced Simon around the same time and moved in with Dorothy and the boys. Ultimately, Simon tasted bitterness for abandoning Dale.
The court summoned him to pay child support for the twins until they turned 18. As for Dorothy, she couldn’t thank Emma enough for helping her reunite with her grandsons, especially Peter, whom she never knew existed.
