was pleased to be getting another child to babysit. Ostensibly she did it for the money, but even if she was rich, she would still want to do it. Before her husband died, they had talked about having at least six children. Now Noah was thirteen years old and occupied with school. Today, Faith remained in bed, complaining of a sore throat, but at four years of age, she would soon be in school as well.
Gabriel sighed as she thought about it. Some days she wished her children could have remained toddlers.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Jerry shrieked in protest as Father Brown picked up a toy tiger. The toy was for everyone, but Jerry was possessive. His shriek gave way to giggles as Father Brown pretended to attack him with the tiger.
Father Brown was a tall, thin man with a horseshoe pattern of grey hair on his head. He never cared for bifocals and instead tended to wear reading glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose while his eyes peered out from above. His eyes tended to be watery, but twinkled with delight at Jerry’s giggles.
“Okay, Father Brown,” said Gabriel, in mock admonishment, “remember to share the toys with the other children.”
He raised his eyes in her direction and smiled, before relinquishing the toy to Jerry who retreated with it to a playhouse.
Emily, who had been watching Father Brown, approached him and with one finger, pointed at a grape-sized red birthmark on the center of Father Brown’s forehead.
“Boo-boo,” said Emily, softly.
“Not a boo-boo,” replied Father Brown. “It’s an angel’s kiss,” he said lightly.
Emily stared intently for a moment before leaning forward and kissing Father Brown on his forehead. “Better now,” she said matter-of-factly, before turning her attention back to the plastic slide.
Her unexpected kiss caused Father Brown to lean back abruptly. He looked up at Gabriel and said, “The new member of the flock isn’t shy, is she?”
“You have a way with children,” replied Gabriel.
“Apparently I do,” he said. A smile flittered across his face, but he became sombre as he reflected on an incident from the previous night.
“Something wrong, Father?” asked Gabriel.
Father Brown frowned. “I have a way with children, but these children are not lost souls. If only I could find a way with the new arrivals God is sending our way. The ones who keep taking up residence in our backyard,” he lamented.
“Again?” asked Gabriel.
Two months ago a nearby liquor store opened for business at eight-thirty in the morning. Their clientele consisted of the down and out. People who had given up all hope and used the bottle to obliterate their thoughts. They tended to frequent an empty lot not far from Gabriel’s house, but in the wet weather, some had taken to seeking refuge under a grove of large cedar trees in her back yard.
“You weren’t woken last night?” asked Father Brown.
Gabriel shook her head and said, “I thought that yard light you put up would stop them.”
Father Brown shrugged and said, “I think it is helping, but not everyone cares if the world sees them. An unfortunate soul stumbled into the garbage cans after you went to bed. I feared he would wake the whole neighbourhood up. I went out and asked him to leave. He did.”
“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Maybe we should be calling the police.”
“Incarceration isn’t the answer. Give me time. I’m still working on the proposal to gather support for a new shelter. Besides, I was awake, reading the scripture.” He paused for a moment, gave a small grin, and added, “However, it would not be good for business if a mom came by with her precious one and saw a man passed out in your yard.”
Gabriel looked heavenward and replied, “I don’t even want to imagine what that would do for business.”
“Mommy,” cried Faith from her room.
Gabriel glanced at Father Brown. “Go,” he said, “I’ll attend the flock.”
Gabriel walked into Faith’s room and saw her stumble while getting out of bed.
“You not awake yet, sweetie,” said Gabriel.
“My neck hurts,” whimpered Faith, rubbing her neck.
Gabriel sat on the bed and placed Faith on her lap. She felt her neck and detected a lump. “You had your mumps vaccination last week,” said Gabriel. “Maybe you’re having a small reaction. How about you come out and play with the others? There’s a new little girl here to play with. Her name is Emily. I’ll give you all some ice cream.”
It was eleven o’clock at night and Father Brown reached to turn his bedroom light out when he heard the sound of breaking glass arise from the back of the house. He peered out the back window and saw an arc of light shine out from the basement door. The breaking glass had come from the renters in the basement. He was about to return to the comfort of his bed when he saw a man stagger out from under the cedar tree closest to the house. The man stood for a moment, looking about, before heading to a cedar tree that was farther away.
Father Brown muttered to himself as he put on his slippers and wrapped a bathrobe over his flannel pajamas before going outside. He passed by the cement steps leading down below ground level to the basement door. The door was wide open and Father Brown could hear the heated voice of one of the renters admonishing the other one for being clumsy. A portable fan was humming away at the door in an effort to clear a strong acidic odour.
Father Brown realized it was the fumes that had aroused the derelict and caused him to retreat to the tree farthest away. He was now sitting on the ground with his back against the trunk of the tree. He stared drunkenly up as Father Brown approached.
Father Brown took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He gave the derelict a friendly smile before crouching down to talk to him face to face. He wondered briefly if the acidic smell emitting from the basement could be any worse than the putrid smell of stale wine coming from the man’s breath.
“Sir, we run a daycare here … young children. Your presence could frighten them. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.”
The man stared silently for several seconds as his brain slowly processed the data. Eventually he mumbled something and stood, swaying on his feet. He stared at Father Brown for longer than was polite, as was the way of inebriated people.
Father Brown gently guided the man down the driveway to the back lane, but stopped as headlights appeared at one end of the alley.
“It’s slowing down and parking,” noted Father Brown. “It’s safe for you to go. God be with you.” He let go of the man’s arm and watched as the man turned toward the lane.
As Father Brown walked back to the house, voices and shadows from the basement caught his attention. The voices were not loud, but someone was angry.
“You fuckin’ idiot,” seethed a voice. “We’ll never get it done in time.”
