Dale was nursing a hangover headache while wishing for a cool breeze when he first heard the jingling tune. He’d been sitting on his front steps counting his miseries, beginning with his electricity being shut off for non-payment and ending with the loss of yet another job.

 

It’s not my fault life’s been handing me lemons. With a scowl, he reflected on just how shitty things had become.

 

Brooding, he remembered the carefree summer days of his childhood, riding bikes with his sister Amy. They would chase after the ice cream truck, too impatient to wait until it had reached their own street.

 

He blinked away tears, refusing to dwell on the tragic end of those happy summer days. Amy had suddenly vanished without a trace at age eight. Guilt had eaten away at him ever since… he’d failed to protect her as a big brother should. Mom had faded away after that, dying young, and Dad had drunk himself into an early grave.

 

Like father, like son, he thought dispassionately, watching as the ice cream truck rolled to a stop in front of his house. The tune ended abruptly as the engine shut off, though there were no kids in sight.

 

Dale narrowed his eyes at the shadowy figure behind the counter who seemed to be waiting expectantly. In a bad temper, he rose, intending to tell the guy to park it somewhere else.

 

Approaching the truck, an unexpected wave of nostalgia overtook him. He envisioned himself at ten, entranced by the menu.

 

Dale opened his mouth to speak but the words he’d planned to say lodged in his throat. Feeling slightly foolish, he closed his mouth and just stood there, embarrassed.

 

The vendor was an older black man with sparkling dark eyes and snowy white hair. He leaned forward with a kind smile.

 

“Well, now. I think I have just the thing for you. An orange creamsicle. Am I right?”

 

Dale’s brows shot up. Orange creamsicles had been his favorite treat as a child. Even now, the mere mention of one conjured up the taste of sweet vanilla and tangy citrus, making his mouth water.

 

“I, ah…” Dale felt in his pockets, mostly for show. He knew they were empty.

 

“On the house,” the man said, reaching under the counter. He handed over the colorfully wrapped treat.

 

“I insist,” he added, even as Dale opened his mouth to object. His eyes were full of kindness, but devoid of pity. Dale straightened his spine and accepted the gift.

 

“Thanks, man.” Dale mustered a rare smile as he reached for the ice cream. “I’ve been having a rough day.”

 

He’d stepped back and was turning away when he heard the man call after him. “You take care, now, Dale.”

 

Dale lifted a hand in response and kept walking. A split second later, he stopped, perplexed. Wait - I never told him my name.

 

He turned around but the ice cream truck was already pulling away, the cheerful melody fading as it moved down the street.

 

OK, so maybe I did.

 

Dale sat down on his front step again and slowly unwrapped the frozen concoction, anticipating his first bite.

 

He closed his eyes, savoring the burst of flavor, feeling just like he did when he was a boy. He swallowed too quickly, and that old familiar brain freeze struck, making him grimace. He needed to slow down and enjoy it.

 

He opened his eyes and his mouth, preparing to take another bite, then blinked, confronted with the impossible.

 

What in the world? It couldn’t be.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again cautiously. The vision remained the same. He was surrounded by dark blue walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

 

His childhood room.

 

Bewildered, he swiveled his head.

 

Am I losing my mind?

 

His mother’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Dale, Timmy’s mom is here to pick you up!”

 

In shock at the sound of her familiar voice, Dale shot to his feet. His image in the mirror across the room stared back at him. Unruly hair, freckles, braces on his teeth.

 

Himself at age ten.

 

“No, no, no…” he muttered aloud. Even his voice was childlike.

 

Am I having a psychotic break?

 

Amy suddenly appeared in the doorway, her face set in a frown. Her red pigtails swung with indignation as she accused him.

 

“You said we were going to watch Star Wars together!”

 

Dale’s jaw dropped at the sight of her. It had been so long since he’d seen her! Is she even real? He wanted to touch her, but his feet seemed frozen in place.

 

“Dale!” His mother called impatiently, “Get a move on!”

 

Amy pouted, her eyes brimming with tears.

 

“Don’t cry, Amy,” he said, desperate to stop her tears. “I won’t go to Timmy’s. We can watch the movie.”

 

“We can?” Her eyes lit up as he smiled and nodded.

 

“I’ll go tell them I changed my mind.”

 

The faint sound of the ice cream truck’s jingling tune suddenly wafted through the open window. Amy clapped her hands with excitement.

 

“The ice cream man! I’ll race you!” She turned and ran for the stairs.

 

A strange sensation tickled down Dale’s spine and the cheerful tune became overlaid with the honking of a horn. The room began to spin, and he squeezed his eyes closed, feeling dizzy.

 

Upon opening his eyes, his vision was focused on a door that suddenly swung open. A pair of twin girls barreled through, their eyes alight with excitement.

 

“Uncle Dale! Uncle Dale!” They vied for his attention, clinging to his legs and gazing at him with adoration.

 

Shocked speechless, he raised his eyes as a beautiful, red-haired woman stepped through the door. She smiled indulgently.

 

It’s Amy! All grown up!

 

“Hey, you,” she said, her eyes laughing. “Still up for baby-sitting?”

 

A million thoughts ran through his head as she waited, grinning at him.

 

In the end, there was only one answer.

 

“There’s nothing I’d like better.”