Runaway Twins Search Dumpster for Food, Find Old Jacket with Perfume Bottle in Its Pocket – Story of the Day

Thirteen-year-old twins, Mike and Steve, are on the run from foster care. While digging through a dumpster for food, Steve discovers a jacket with a unique bottle of perfume in its pocket. He’s convinced this is a sign his mom is still alive and sets out to find her.

Two runaway boys slipped into the service area at the back of an upmarket strip mall. Steve flashed his twin, Mike, a gleeful grin as they hurried toward the closest dumpster.

"See? It wasn't so difficult to get away from that foster family," Steve said.

Mike humphed and lifted the dumpster lid. "For now. They'll report us to Child Services though, and then we'll have to worry about cops as well as finding food." Mike sighed. "And there's nothing to eat in this dumpster."

"Wait, what's that?" Steve reached in and removed a cardboard box. Unfortunately, there wasn't food inside it, just a shabby jacket.

"This might work as a pillow or blanket, right?" Steve lifted the jacket.

Mike rolled his eyes and leaned over to dig deeper into the dumpster. Steve noticed something inside the jacket's pocket. Curious, he withdrew a small bottle that sent a chill down his spine.

"Mike! It's the handmade perfume Mom used..." Steve grabbed his brother's shoulder and thrust the bottle in front of his face. "Do you think...could this be Mom's jacket?"

"Don't be stupid." Mike shoved Steve's shoulder. "Mom wasn't the only person who used that perfume, and besides, she's dead, Steve."

Steve shook his head and continued rifling through the box. "The policeman said she's a missing person, not dead. That means she's still out there somewhere."

"No, she isn't!" Mike shouted. He glared at Steve, fury turning his cheeks red. His jaw clenched tight, and he turned his attention back to the dumpster. "But keep on dreaming, if that makes you feel better."

Steve was convinced this perfume bottle was a sign. He found a receipt among the junk in the box and smiled when he noted the address on it.

"Now we know where this jacket was thrown away, and where to start searching for information about Mom!" Steve waved the receipt at Mike.

"Don't even look at me," Mike replied as he dug through the trash. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Stop being so negative, Mike! We can't give up on Mom; we must fight to the end."

"Sure." Mike jumped down and walked toward the next dumpster. "How about you fight to the end of that dumpster and find us something to eat?"

Steve tried to convince his twin to investigate the address he'd found with the jacket, but Mike absolutely refused to go with him. So, while Mike went to check the dumpsters behind a bigger mall, Steve went on to find the address on the receipt.

Steve stared up at a tall wrought iron fence surrounding a lush garden. The upper stories of a mansion were just visible through the foliage. Steve rang the bell at the gate. Nobody replied. He tried a few more times, but to no avail.

Maybe nobody was home. Steve squinted his eyes at the late afternoon sun. Somebody would probably arrive soon, and if not...Steve spotted an oak tree growing on the sidewalk. That would be his way into the grounds to search for clues about Mom.

Steve sat against the fence to wait. Soon it was dark and still no cars pulled up to the gate. Steve climbed the tree by the light of the full moon and hurried up to the mansion's front door.

All the windows in the house were dark. Steve knocked on the door, but he wasn't surprised when nobody replied. He stared at the door in frustration. He was certain he'd find answers about Mom here if only someone would speak to him!

In desperation, Steve tried the doorknob. The front door silently swung open, revealing a dark entrance hall. Steve stepped inside.

Moonlight shone in through the large windows on the far side of a massive room just off the entrance hall, but everything else was pitch black. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny flashlight.

Mike had insisted they took some supplies when they ran away from that foster family, and thank goodness for that! As Steve directed the pale beam of light across the floor, he wished he'd convinced Mike to join him. He didn't want to do this alone.

Steve peeped into the moonlit room but saw nothing of interest. He then followed the light from his flashlight into the darkness, peering into formal rooms filled with looming sculptures and weird paintings, an entertainment room with actual movie theatre seats and a TV that covered the wall, and a kitchen larger than most houses.

He found nothing in those rooms, so he tiptoed up the wide staircase near the front door.

A sound like breathing stopped Steve in his tracks when he reached the top of the stairs. His heart thumped in his chest as he slowly glanced over his shoulder.

He expected to find the monster-man from his childhood nightmares right behind him, fingers like spider legs poised to snatch him, but all he saw was a thin pair of drapes flapping at an open window.

Steve sighed and set off down the hallway. The thick carpet absorbed all sound from his feet. He opened the first door and found a small bedroom. A floral comforter covered the bed, and there were picture frames arranged across a shelf. Steve snuck inside to examine them.

The light from Steve's flashlight reflected off the glass, obscuring half of the first photo he looked at. A woman with long, dark hair sitting on a lawn chair smiled at the camera. Someone's hand was on the back of the chair.

Steve moved his light until the rest of the photo was clear, then let out a shocked whimper. That was Mom! These people knew her, and maybe they could tell him where she was.

Steve dropped the photo as light flooded the room. He was momentarily blinded but spun toward the door.

"All you're going to find here is a one-way ticket to juvenile hall," a man said.

Steve rubbed at his eyes. Panic coursed through his veins as he took in the silhouette near the door, but it was nothing compared to the terror that overcame him when he saw the man's face. It was the freaking monster man from his nightmares!

Steve was instantly transported back to that day eight years ago, when he last saw Mom. Her arm was wrapped around him like a steel band; her footsteps had bumped him against her shoulder as she ran down the sidewalk.

And the man was always behind them. Steve glimpsed his scowling face among the other pedestrians and felt his fingernails scratch his cheek when he got close enough to snatch at them.

Mom ran into the subway and ducked into a sheltered alcove. Steve wished he could remember what she'd said, but he'd been too frightened. Her words had washed over him like water, and then she was gone.

Steve had had nightmares about that man for years. Now they'd come to life because he was standing right in front of Steve with exactly the same scowl he remembered from that day.

This man was behind Mom's disappearance, and Mom's photo was in his house. He had all the answers Steve had been looking for, but Steve realized he couldn't ask him outright about Mom. He'd have to try a different approach.

"I'm s-s-sorry, sir." Steve pressed his hands together. "I'm just so hungry..."

The man smiled, and it was terrifying.

"Hungry, huh?” He said, taking a step closer. “Don’t you have parents to feed you?”

Steve shook his head.

“How sad…but you're old enough to work, and you look strong.” The man scanned Steve with his gaze. “I can offer you a chance to compensate me for the damage you've caused and you'll get fed regularly. It’s a good offer, considering the alternative."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"You can work at my factory, or I can call the police and you'll be sent to jail." The man took his cell phone from his pocket. "What will it be, kid?"

Steve stared at the man. He'd never find answers about Mom in a jail cell, but he just might discover something from the other workers if he accepted the job in this man's factory. He knew he shouldn't trust him, but it seemed like his best chance to find out what happened to Mom.

Steve nodded. "I'll accept your offer to work at your factory, sir."

Early the next morning, a strange man drove Steve to a warehouse on the very edge of the city's industrial area. A single, unmarked truck stood in the loading area, but there was no sign of what was being produced in the warehouse.

"Excuse me, sir," Steve asked the driver as the man escorted him to the warehouse entrance, "but what exactly will my job be here?"

The man stared straight ahead.

"No questions, kid, you'll find out soon enough."

Steve had barely stepped inside the warehouse when he was surrounded by more strange men. They spoke to each other in a language Steve didn't understand then one of them pulled him aside. A blindfold covered his eyes.

"Walk straight." A hand thumped down on Steve's shoulder and pushed him forward. He stumbled, but the man kept him moving.

Steve bumped his toes when the floor angled upward suddenly. The man pushed harder against his shoulder, making Steve stumble over his own feet. He couldn't keep up. Steve fell.

A heavy clang echoed around him, and an engine roared, sending vibrations up his arms as he pushed himself up. He realized he must be on the truck he'd seen parked in the loading area when the surface beneath him lurched forward.

It was dark as night in the truck, even after Steve removed his blindfold. He lost track of time as the truck rumbled on. He stumbled around in the back and found some bottles of water and packages of potato chips in one corner. There was nothing else in the truck.

Eventually, Steve fell asleep in the corner with the water and food. Steve slept and woke several times before, finally, the truck stopped, and the door flew open.

"Get up and get out!" A man shouted into the truck, his voice echoing around Steve.

Steve shielded his eyes from the bright light and stumbled to the door. Warm, humid air washed over him as he squinted out at a wide river with a thick jungle growing closely on either side of the water.

"Welcome to Mexico." The man at the door grabbed Steve's wrist and pulled him down from the truck. "Now quit gawking and get walking."

The man guided Steve down to a narrow jetty where a boat was waiting. Once Steve was seated in the boat, the man at the engine put another blindfold on him. The wind stung Steve's face as the boat set off, taking him to yet another unknown destination.

The person who tugged the blindfold off Steve's head also pulled out a patch of his hair. Steve barely noticed the pain as he stared at the tall, diamond mesh fence topped with razor wire surrounding him. Each corner of the open area where he stood had a guard tower manned by five men.

This wasn't a factory; it was a prison!

"That's where you work." The man standing beside Steve pointed to a long building. "And you sleep over here."

The man held Steve's arm tightly as he steered him toward a group of four identical, long buildings on the opposite side of the fenced-in area.

"The rules around here are simple," the man continued. "Do what you're told or you'll be punished. Don't try to run away or you'll be hunted down by the dogs. Got it?"

"Yeah...but what work will I be doing, sir?"

The man laughed. "Let's just say you're in the chemical manufacturing business, kid."

The man showed him the small room he'd be sharing with four other people and then took him to the dining area. At least a hundred shabby-looking men, women, and teenagers were seated at the tables eating an unidentifiable brown slop.

"You have about 15 minutes to get something to eat, kid." The man pushed Steve into the dining hall.

A few people turned to look at him as Steve hurried to the serving area on the opposite side of the building. Many of the people looked like they hadn't washed in a while, and several had burn scars on their hands and faces. Everyone had a numb, faraway look in their eyes that chilled Steve's marrow.

Except for a single woman who stared at Steve in shock. The sight of her left him riveted to the spot. He started to move faster, a shout building in his chest as he rushed to reunite with his long-lost mother.

But Mom pressed a finger to her lips. She glanced warily around the room, and Steve understood. Mom didn't want anyone to know they were related. Their reunion would have to wait for now.

Thoughts raced through Steve's mind as he lay down to sleep on his hard bunk bed that night. He couldn't believe he'd finally found Mom! If only there were a way to let Mike know that she was alive.

He must've drifted off to sleep despite his racing thoughts because Mom woke him up with an urgent shake.

"Don't make a sound," she whispered. "I know a place where we can go to talk."

Steve nodded. He rose from his bed and followed Mom outside. She led him from one shadowed corner to the next until she ducked inside a small room behind the toilet block.

"Oh my God, Steve!" Mom hugged him so tightly he could barely breathe.

"What are you doing here? And where's your brother? Did Mr. Russo find you boys?"

"Mike isn't with me; he's back in the city," Steve replied. "If Mr. Russo is the man who was chasing us the day you disappeared then, technically, I found him."

Mom frowned at him, so Steve told her how finding that perfume bottle had set him on the path that led him to her.

"But one thing I still don't understand is how you got involved with this guy in the first place," Steve said once he'd finished explaining.

"Mr. Russo is part of the mob. Your father and I worked for him." Mom hung her head. "I was a maid and he was a driver. One day, Mr. Russo accused your dad of being an informant...we tried to escape." Mom shook her head. "Your dad died and I got caught in the subway station."

Mom let out a deep sigh. "He would've killed me too, but his wife liked me too much. Instead, he made me continue working as a maid in his house but I wasn't allowed to leave and he didn't pay me."

"That's why I found your photo in that house."

Mom nodded. "I'd still be living there if Mrs. Russo hadn't died. He sent me here to work in this place before he even finalized her funeral arrangements."

"I can't believe this. Mom, there must be a way we can get out of here and return to Mike."

Mom shook her head. "It's impossible. Even if we escaped the compound, we'd still have to cross the river and find our way through the jungle. It's far too dangerous, Steve." She cupped his cheek. "Just go to sleep, my son. You'll need your rest for tomorrow."

Steve and the other people in the compound ate breakfast and started work before dawn the next day. They had a short break at midday and then went back to work until late in the afternoon.

They put Steve to work as a janitor for the first week. The buildings might've been a bit scruffy, but the guards expected him to maintain a high standard when it came to cleanliness both inside the factory and the living quarters.

Everyone got the day off on Sunday. That was when Steve discovered the dogs. He was idly wandering around the compound when he saw the shepherd dogs in their runs. He slowly approached the closest one and offered his hand to the dog to sniff.

The dog stared at him as it stalked close to the fence. It scented the air and then slowly wagged its tail.

"Look at that."

Steve spun around. He was certain he'd get into trouble now, but the man watching him just smiled.

"Are you good with dogs, boy?" The guard asked. "Would you like a new job? The last guy who worked in the dog runs… well, the dogs didn’t like him much so we need a replacement."

The next day, Steve was assigned to groom the dogs and clean out their runs. He'd always loved dogs but never been able to have one as a pet, so this was great news for him. He set to his task with a smile, which only got wider when he made an interesting discovery.

When Steve entered the last run, right in the corner of the camp, it was empty. He looked around in confusion and then noticed a pair of dark eyes watching him from beneath the dog kennel.

"How did you get under there?" Steve said as he approached the kennel.

The dog disappeared momentarily, only to emerge tail-first from a hole in the dirt on the other side of the kennel. Steve moved closer and tripped. There was another hole in the middle of the run. On closer inspection, Steve realized the holes were more like tunnels. If a dog could dig such tunnels, then why couldn't he?

Steve scratched the dog behind its ears and whistled happily as he cleaned out the run. He wasn't sure about all the details yet, but he'd just figured out how he and Mom could escape this work camp.

The next day, Steve took one of the dog bowls back to his bunk when he finished work for the day. After everyone had fallen asleep, he snuck out of his room and started digging his tunnel to freedom with the dog bowl.

Steve worked on his tunnel every night for weeks. Eventually, he broke through the surface and stuck his head out the other side. He was through! Now, he just needed to widen the exit.

The following evening, while Steve was walking back to his sleeping quarters after dinner, another worker slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders and whispered in his ear:

“I know about your plans.”

Steve looked innocently at the man and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What plans?”

The man grinned. “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re planning to get out of here, and my friend and I want to join you. We have some things you need, like rope and an ax to make a raft. You have the tunnel and the dogs are familiar with you. We need each other.”

Steve didn’t know how this man had figured out his plan, but he made a good point. He and Mom would need a raft to cross the river, and having four people working together would certainly be better than two.

“Okay,” Steve said. “You’re in.”

A few nights later, four shadowy figures slipped through the camp and into a dark utility room. Heavy rain battered against the tin roof as Pedro, the man who’s approached Steve, removed the bag of supplies he’d hidden behind a gas canister.

Lightning arced across the sky as the group slipped into Steve’s tunnel. It was completely flooded at the lowest point, but it held firm. A loud thunderclap sounded as they raced for the river.

Steve held onto Mom’s hand as he ran, his feet slipping on the mud with every step. He was completely drenched, and the rain stung his skin, but he was grateful for it. This rain would make it almost impossible for the dogs to track them.

They ran along the muddy track leading to the river. When they reached a sharp bend, Pedro gestured that they should continue through the jungle.

“It’s a shortcut,” he shouted over the rain and thunder.

They continued more slowly through the dense undergrowth. The storm had passed by the time they reunited with the road and Pedro assured Steve that they’d just cut three miles off their journey.

“We’re almost to the river.” Pedro grinned.

There were no signs of pursuit, so the group decided to rest briefly. They’d still need to build their raft when they reached the water and would need their strength. Mom went into the bushes alone for a bathroom break. Minutes later, Steve heard her scream.

“Mom!”

Steve shoved through bushes and felt low tree branches whip his face as he ran after Mom. He noticed a spot where the ground had given way just in time to skid to a stop. He peeped over the edge and saw Mom lying awkwardly in the mud at the bottom of a steep gully.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Tears ran down Mom’s cheeks as she looked up and shook her head. Steve carefully picked his way down the slope. He stopped just shy of Mom and stared grimly at the livid bruise on her calf.

“Steve,” Mom whimpered. “I think my leg is broken.”

Steve and Pedro carried Mom up the slope and set her down on a fallen log. Pedro briefly examined her leg and shook his head.

“It’s no good,” he said. “We have to leave her behind.”

“Never!” Steve squared his shoulders and stared at Pedro. “We can carry her.”

“Then we would all be slowed down. They’ll catch us. I’m sorry, but we aren’t going to take that chance.” Pedro gestured to his friend. “This is the only chance we’ll get to escape and we won’t waste it.”

“He’s right.” Mom stared at Steve with pain-filled eyes. “You should leave me behind.”

“I just found you again!” Steve joined Mom on the log. “I’m not leaving you, not for any reason. My freedom means nothing if you aren’t with me.”

“Then this is where we part ways,” Pedro said. He and his friend turned away and left Steve and Mom alone in the jungle.

“We’re screwed,” Mom sobbed.

“No, we’re not.” Steve rose and scanned their surroundings.

“I’m still going to get us out of here.”

“How? You can’t carry me by yourself.”

“I have an idea. Pedro said we were near the river so there’s a chance we’re also near a village or some kind of settlement. We just need to make some sort of signal to get their attention.”

“And what about the guards? Surely they would see this signal too.”

Steve sighed deeply. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take. With any luck, we’ll be rescued by the locals before the guards reach our position.”

Steve had one chance to get this right, and it was a long shot. He started uphill to an area that looked clear and scoured the jungle as he walked. Everything was sodden and muddy from the rain, but he refused to give up hope.

He found exactly what he needed in a hollow at the base of a tall tree. Some animal must’ve denned there at some point because it was filled with dry grasses and leaves. There were also chunks of dry, partly termite-eaten wood that had fallen off the inside of the hollow. Steve collected it all.

He set the dry materials down on some rocks at the top of the rise, then went back into the jungle. He gathered the driest branches he found, then broke his flashlight against a rock. He used the lens to focus the sunlight onto his tinder.

A thin trail of smoke soon rose from the bundle of dried grass. He carefully packed the driest pieces of wood on top of it. The wood sizzled and steamed. Steve gently blew on the tiny flames and added another bundle of grass. The flames leaped higher.

The flames caught on the pieces of wood from the tree hollow. The branches above those had stopped steaming now, and the fire soon spread to them. Steve sighed with relief. Slowly, the steam evaporating from the damp wood was replaced by smoke, and the small fire grew into a blaze.

Soon, the fire was big and hot enough to cook out the water in even the wettest branches Steve had gathered. He added them slowly then threw in some damp leaves to thicken the smoke. Once he was certain the fire would keep going, he hurtled back down the hill to Mom.

“It’s working!” He cried. He then presented her with a long stick. “I found this for you. You can use it like a crutch and I’ll help you get up to the fire.”

Steve and Mom watched the smoke billow upwards into the sky. He tended the fire for another hour before he noticed someone appear through the trees across from them.

“Look, Mom!” Steve pointed at the man.

“My idea worked. We’re saved.”

Mom leaned forward to peer at the man just as he stepped out into the sun. The smile fell from her face and she shook her head.

“He’s one of the guards from the camp,” she muttered. “Quickly, Steve, you have to run.”

“No! I won’t leave you, Mom.” Steve grabbed her hand.

“Listen, Steve, this is the only way.” Mom gave him a fierce look. “So long as you get away, you can come back for me, or call the police, but you must run, now. Go!”

Steve bolted from his mother’s side but stopped short as a second man appeared ahead of him. He raced off in the other direction, but the first guard circled around and blocked him.

“Keep going, Steve,” Mom shouted. “Run!”

They circled around the fire, hemming Steve and Mom in. Steve thought about shoving one of the men into the fire--that would surely distract them--but then their leader pulled out a gun.

“I think you’ve run far enough,” the man said. “If you come easily now then we’ll make sure we take it easy on you and the lady when we get you back to the factory.”

Steve glanced at his mom as he raised his hands in surrender. “Please just take care of her,” he begged. “She’s hurt.”

The guards took Mom to the infirmary when they returned to camp. Steve caught a glimpse of them carrying her inside before he was shut into the basement room used for punishment.

Steve curled up on a rough blanket in the corner of the room. He’d failed. After everything he’d been through to get Mom out of here, they were right back where they started. Worse than when they started because he was locked up, and she was badly injured.

Steve hugged his knees and wondered where Mike was now and if he’d ever see his brother again.

Tears rolled down Steve’s cheeks. He cried for a long time in the dark solitude of his cell and eventually fell asleep.

Sometime later, a loud thop-thop-thop sound woke him up. People were shouting and running outside. Steve pressed his face against the narrow bars set into the door of his cell and tried to see what was going on.

A voice boomed out over a loudhailer. They were speaking Spanish, but Steve’s heart soared as he recognized two words: La policia.

Two days after the camp was raided, Steve was reunited with Mom in her hospital room. He ran toward her and hugged her tightly.

“Oh Steve! You saved us all,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

Mom smiled. “Didn’t they tell you? The police had been searching for that camp for a long time but they found it because of your fire. That smoke was seen for miles and people reported it.”

“When the police came to investigate, they found Pedro and his friend washed up on the river bank,” Mom continued. “They realized they must’ve escaped from the camp they were looking for and that’s how they found us.”

“Well, I guess my plan worked after all, just not the way I expected.”

“They’re sending us back to the States soon.” Mom leaned back on her pillows. “Mr. Russo has been arrested and the police back home tracked down Mike.” Mom wiped away a tear that spilled down her cheek. “He’s going to be waiting for us at the airport. God, I can’t wait to be back home with both my sons.”

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