Dead Ends. Don Easton

      Dedication

      To those who suffer in silence …

      Chapter One

      Chapter One

      It was early afternoon when Gabriel Parsons glanced out the window of her front door. It was the last Thursday in January and although the snow that fell on Burnaby in December was gone, the weather was still cold and wet. She turned and smiled knowingly at her visitor who was putting on her shoes to leave.

      Gabriel had been running a daycare out of her home for three years and she was familiar with the worried look of young mothers who were leaving their toddlers behind for the first time. Cecilia, like the others, procrastinated the closer she got to the front door. When Gabriel’s husband died in a logging accident three years prior, leaving her with two children, she felt like God had forsaken her. Her son, Noah, was only ten years old at the time and Faith was one and a half.

      Gabriel’s frequent trips to church brought her comfort and eventually her prayers appeared to be answered, at least in a financial sense. Her two-storey house was forty years old, but relatively sound and had a full basement. At first she thought about selling, but Noah did not like the idea. Faith was too young to understand, but Noah was devastated over the loss of his dad. The home was something he still clung to, so Gabriel relented and decided to use the house to aid her financial situation.

      She rented out the basement to two young men who ran a janitorial supply service. At first she was nervous about dealing with renters, but her fears were soon put to rest. They were polite, always paid the rent on time, and gave her free cleaning supplies.

      Her church also brought unexpected support. Father Brown, who was retiring at the time, became a boarder and moved into a spare bedroom on the upper floor at the back of her home. He happily volunteered to babysit while Gabriel tried to find work.

      Gabriel smiled as she paused to consider how the quality of her life was improving. Initially she found temporary shift-work as a short-order cook, but felt guilty using Father Brown to babysit when he refused to accept anything in return. Father Brown noted her love for children and came up with the idea of opening a daycare. It was the perfect solution.

      Gabriel’s thoughts returned to the present as Cecilia prepared to leave. Gabriel gestured to Cecilia’s jacket and said, “It’s raining. Zip up before you —” She caught herself and stopped. “I’m sorry,” she added, feeling embarrassed. “I’m so used to looking after children I sometimes forget and try to mother their parents, too.”

      A pert grin flashed across Cecilia’s mouth as she zipped up her jacket. “It’s okay,” she replied. “I knew as soon as I met you that you’re the motherly type, which suits me fine.”

      Gabriel didn’t reply, unsure of whether Cecilia was talking to her or simply uttering her thoughts out loud.

      Cecilia took a deep breath as she looked around. The home was spotless. She gave Gabriel a warm smile and said, “When we first arrived, I commented to Emily about all the beautiful plants and bushes you have around your house. When you invited us in, I thought your home smelled cleaner than a hospital. Seeing how happy the children are … well, I know I’ve found the perfect daycare.”

      Gabriel’s home did look picturesque. Tomorrow would be different. Rolls of yellow crime-scene tape left by the police would surround the entire property.

      Gabriel glanced at the crucifix hanging on the wall at the entrance to her home. For a few seconds she did not hear the rambunctious voices of the three pre-schoolers playing in the living room. Instead, she felt at peace. A friend once told her that she was kind to a fault. Gabriel didn’t mind. She preferred to be that way. Her motto was: Do good unto others and they … well, for Gabriel, her naïveté was about to change. Murder has a way of doing that.

      “I meant to tell you,” Cecilia continued, “that those pecan cookies you made were perfectly scrumptious!”

      Gabriel gave a broad smile. She was forty-three years old, but had been cooking since she was a youngster. She also liked to eat what she cooked, as was evidenced by her wide girth and triple chins. “You can take some with you, if you like,” she offered.

      “No, thanks, I need to watch my … uh, sugar intake.”

      “Afraid you’ll end up like me?” replied Gabriel, making a pretext of eyeing Cecilia suspiciously.

      “No!” replied Cecilia abruptly. Too abruptly. “I … uh, you look good,” she added, trying to sound sincere.

      “Really?” replied Gabriel. Her voice was perpetually raspy, giving an impression of gruffness, but the merriment on her chubby, cherubic face said otherwise. “Its okay,” she continued matter-of-factly as her smile revealed she had been teasing. “I know what I look like. I don’t care. There are no men in my life now.” She shrugged and glanced at the children and saying, “But there’s lots of love, I can tell you that.”

      “I know,” replied Cecilia warmly. “I could feel it as soon as we arrived.”

      The two women stared at each other briefly, both lost in their own thoughts.

      Cecilia was the first to break the silence. “I’ll be back at four-thirty to pick her up and see how she does. If everything goes okay, I’ll drop her off Monday morning on my way to work.”

      “Everything will go okay,” Gabriel assured her. “She looks darling … and is already playing with the other children. Father Brown and I will take good care of her.”

      A bemused smile played across Cecilia’s lips as she watched Father Brown, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor amongst a pile of toys, nonchalantly allowing a four-year-old boy by the name of Jerry to use Father Brown’s arm, neck, and head as a roadway for a toy car.

      Cecilia’s smile vanished and she appeared wistful as she turned her attention to Emily, who was playing on a plastic slide. The two boys had accepted their new playmate. There was a lot of noise as all three children enthusiastically tested the durability and limits of the plastic playhouse and toys in the room. It was a happy noise, she decided.

      “You’ve already hugged her and said goodbye,” said Gabriel softly. “Now might be a good time to slip away.”

      “Okay,” replied Cecilia in a whisper. “You have my cellphone number … if there is any problem … if she doesn’t behave, just —”

      “Don’t worry,” said Gabriel, giving her a reassuring pat on her back. “Emily is in good hands.”

      Cecilia nodded and said, “Sorry, I know I’m worrying needlessly. It’s just that she’s — I’ve never left her alone before. She’s only three.”

      “Worrying is what us moms do,” replied Gabriel. “You never get over it, no matter how old they get.”

      Cecilia

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