Two men accidentally bumped into each other while hurriedly walking down a crowded street. The shorter, younger one, call him “Bob,” genuinely felt embarrassed, even sorry, for about a second. The taller, older one, call him “Dave,” had just learned that his wife was unfaithful.

Bob looked up at Dave, I’m sorry forming on his lips and tongue, just in time to see a look from Dave that he interpreted to suggest that Bob was at fault and that he, Bob, sucked. Bob flared inside, a nasty patch of agitation rising up from his gut. He stopped and glared.

Dave looked down at Bob, barely aware that they had even made contact, confused as to why they were standing still and looking at each other. Bob’s eyebrows fell low and his upper lip twitched, Dave could see that much, Bob’s shoulders tight, it seemed.

“Watch where you’re going,” Bob said.

The sadness Dave felt morphed into confusion and then into irritation and then into anger and then into rage, all within the time it took to blink twice. He clinched his fists and noticed that Bob had seen him do so. For a moment in time, Dave saw this short, younger man in front of him as the embodiment of all that was wrong in the world, the cause, de facto, of his wife’s affair, even.

“How dare you,” Dave said.

“‘Scuse me,” they both heard from somewhere below, just as they were beginning the lean, their faces drawing towards each other as their eyes flashed fire.

“‘Scuse me.” That voice again.

Dave looked down first, then Bob.

A little boy, call him “Billy,” was tugging on both of their pants, pulling down with one hand on Dave’s trousers and one on Bob’s, somewhere around the knees. Billy was looking up at them, his chin quivering, dimpled and shaking, his eyes batting rapidly, crocodile tears falling softly from his dark brown eyes.

Bob and Dave almost bumped heads as they quickly bent over, Billy standing between them. He appeared maybe four or five years old. He looked first at Bob and then at Dave, his little mouth twitching.

“Yes,” both men said at the same time.

“I’m so sad,” Billy said. “I fink I’m lost.”

A fresh batch of tears spilled out from his eyes and raced down his face.

Well, this was all it took for Dave. The tears that he had held back upon learning of his wife’s affair plopped up on the edge of his eyelids and sat there for a few seconds, long enough for Bob to glance up and notice. Long enough for Bob to realize that maybe he had jumped the gun, been too harsh…judged.

The two men looked at each other and then at the little boy.

An unlikely scene developed on the crowded street, the one where people frequently bump Into each other, and even occasionally come to blows. The two men stood up, each holding one of Billy’s hands, and together they began the search for Billy’s mother.