A KIDNAPPING
There was still a sharp nip in the air, but her little boy had been pleading to go to the park all morning. Now lunch was done. Sheila gladly put kitchen chores on the backburner as she bundled the baby up in the stroller and then helped her son into a double layer of pants, outdoor jacket, etc. The snow had all gone a few weeks ago, and buds of leaves were appearing on trees and hedges.
Dave skipped happily by his mother’s side as she pushed the stroller along, and broke into a run as soon as the park gates came into sight.
“Wait Dave!” Sheila shouted, then, “Be careful!” as she saw him scamper up the slide. She needed to be right there with him in case the three-year old missed a step. But first she had to find a suitable parking place for the stroller, in which ten-month old Karla was thankfully already asleep. The sun was out, so some shade would be ideal. Ah yes, that tree, Sheila thought, and rolled the stroller to a shady spot a little away from the playground. Perfect, away from noisy children, yet close enough for her to keep an eye. She positioned the stroller away from the direct sun, set the brake, and draped a light blanket over the front. Just in time, for Dave was yelling, “Mommy, Mommy, Dave want swings!”
#
Jeremy and Herbert walked along the street, with no particular destination in mind. Life was so different from just a year ago, when they had been high school seniors, almost-heroes among a certain group of schoolmates, for their bold defiance of rules. Like stealing brazenly from the neighbourhood store. And experimenting with marijuana. Right in the school yard. Miraculously, they were not expelled, merely given detention, and were able to graduate. Just about.
After a few weeks of graduation euphoria, reality hit. Apparently their reputations preceded them everywhere they applied for a job. McDonald’s and Esso wouldn’t have them. Even the convenience store down their street hummed and hawed and brought down their ‘now hiring’ sign. Mercifully, their parents let them continue staying at home. Food and shelter was ensured, but they were declared too old for pocket money. By this time the two were mildly dependent on joints. For a while, they ‘borrowed’ from friends. But that avenue dried up soon enough.
#
“Hey Herb man, I really feel like a joint”, Jeremy said as they ambled along.
“Me too, man”, Herbert agreed.
“You got any dough?” Jeremy made an act of searching his pockets.
“Nope, man.”
“Shit, we need to do something.”
Focused on how to acquire some means of buying a couple of joints, the two continued down the street as it turned a sharp corner and sloped into the park.
Jeremy kicked a stone absentmindedly. “We could sell my mother’s iPad”.
“And be suspected right away? No way. Besides, doesn’t she always take it to work?”
“Shit, yes”.
“If we’re going to steal, it has to be something that can’t be traced back to us.”
Herb scanned the surroundings: houses firmly shut, no cars, nothing. The park also seemed devoid of potentially-stealable things. The happy shrieks of little children turned their eyes towards the playground. Nothing there. Then Jeremy spotted the stroller.
“Hey, there’s something! That’ll fetch us enough for two-month’s supply.”
Herb looked to where Jeremy was pointing. “There must be a baby in there, man! That’s too risky.”
“No no, see that woman there, she has the baby with her. And she’s so busy talking to the others. Besides, look at where the stroller is, behind the tree. We can easily walk up and push it away, those women won’t even notice.”
Jeremy’s quick thinking was right. The path into the park was a short walk from the entrance, enabling a quick escape. Particularly because the path turned sharply into the park, obscuring the view of the street it came from.
“Ok, let’s do it.” Herb wanted to believe Jeremy.
They walked fast around the border of the park, and slowed to a casual stroll on entering from the other side. A studied-casual look around assured them that the women’s deep conversation continued, with occasional admonitions to their children. Herb and Jeremy were parallel to the stroller in no time.
“Quick, let’s take it away.”
Jeremy’s hands were already on the handlebar. When the stroller didn’t move, he quickly dislodged the brake, and began walking a tad faster – not too fast or someone could suspect their intentions. One minute, two minutes, and the young men were round the corner and out of the park gate, out of sight from the women who were still chatting in the middle of the playground.
A little panicked but very pleasantly surprised at their own enterprising moves, the young men picked up speed.
“Where to now?” panted Herb.
“I know, let’s go to my parents’ garage. There’s a door by the side.” Jeremy’s quick-thinking streak continued. It helped that his home was just a few paces ahead.
#
“Well, it was great chatting, but I’d better take Dave home – time for his snack and dinner prep!”
Sheila had found Rita at the playground, with her little daughter running around and her baby in her arms. Now Sheila gave her friend a quick hug, chucked Rita’s baby’s cheek, and called out for Dave. The little boy was not ready though, still very busy scampering up and down the slide. His mother had to go grab her son’s arm.
“Come on son,” Sheila cajoled, looking down at Dave who was trying to pull away, “We’ve got yummy hot dogs for dinner. And if you eat all your vegetables, you can have ice cream!” She stumbled on a twig, cursed under her breath, and looked up. They were almost at the tree where she had parked the stroller.
But wait a sec. Where was the stroller?
A sharp streak of fear shot through Sheila. She blinked her eyes; maybe she wasn’t seeing right. But there it was – or, was not. No stroller. Panic! Panic! A scream rose up in her throat and stopped. Dave was tugging at her hand.
“Mommy! Where’s Karla?” Noticing his mother’s fear, the little boy grew frantic himself. “Mommy! Mommy!”
“Shush Dave, shush!” Sheila was frozen; she couldn’t move. Where is my baby? Her head swiveled to where her friend had just been, but now there was no one in the playground.
Her eyes searched frantically in all directions. What could have happened to the stroller and Karla? Did it roll away? Yes! The land sloped slightly downwards. A creek ran at the edge of the park. Oh God, did the stroller turn over into the water? My poor baby! Sheila ran down towards the creek. No stroller. Nothing floating down the creek either. Real fear took over, with all hope of a minor accident ruled out. Tears prickled her eyes. A scream rose up in her throat. And froze. Thick fog filled her head. Through the fog, she silently cried, Somebody help me! Somebody? Call someone! She fumbled for her cell phone. Buried deep in the handbag. Come on, show up dammit!
Who should she call? 9-1-1? Marty? Her mother? Her neighbor? The friend who had just been with her? No, I’ll call Marty first, he’ll know what to do. Fingers shaking, she punched the numbers in. And went straight to the answering machine. Oh Marty, not now, don’t be in a meeting now. I need you. The tears were flowing freely.
Dial 9-1-1! Why had she waited?
#
Pushing the stroller along at as much a ‘normal’ pace as they could, the two young men approached their destination – Jeremy’s home.
“Let’s get it into the garage. Mom parks outside always.” Jeremy’s streak of brilliant moves continued. “Come on, here, through the side door.”
Trying to look nonchalant just in case someone was watching, Herbert followed as Jeremy maneuvered the stroller through the side door into the garage. The place was filled with odds and ends, overflowing cardboard boxes, shovels and rakes along the wall, Jeremy’s old rocking horse, gardening tools, milk crates. Once in, Jeremy closed the door behind him, found a spot for the stroller, and let out a loud sigh. Grinning widely at their achievement, the young men raised their hands in a high-five.
“Now what?” Herbert was eager for the next step.
“We need to plan. Where can we sell this thing?”
“Hmm. There’s a baby place in the mall.” Herbert had a vague recollection of a store next to the McDonald’s.
“No, man, they won’t want a used stroller. Besides, they’ll wonder where we got it from. We’ll be busted then!”
Herbert chewed on his lip and thought harder.
“I know! What about the thrift store? The one on McCallister?”
“The Salvation Army store? Oh yeah, that’s a possibility. But they may not give us the price we want.”
“Oh? What d’you think it’s worth? Fifty? A hundred?”
“More!” Jeremy examined the stroller critically. “It’s a Bob, those are five hundred new. We could get at least three hundred.”
“Wow!” Herbert’s eyes popped in excitement. “We’ll be rich rich rich!”
“Sh sh. What’s that?” Jeremy spun around. A distinct whimpering sound was coming from the stroller. He snatched at the blanket still draped over the front.
“Whaaaat… is there a baby in there? Man, you said there’s no baby in there!” Herbert’s excitement changed rapidly to astonishment and sheer horror.
The whimpering stopped. Baby Karla stared back big-eyed at the two faces that were transfixed on her. Who are these? Someone I know? Nope. Where’s my Mommy? I’m hungry. I want my Mommy!
“Waaaa! Waaa!”
“Shush shush shush!” The baby’s wails grew louder. “No no, don’t cry!”
Herbert grabbed the blanket and bunched it over the baby’s face.
“What’re you doing, man! You want more trouble? A dead baby and we’re dead meat!”
Jeremy snatched the blanket away from Herbert’s fumbling. The two young men tugged in opposite directions. Through their scuffling and the baby’s wails, another sound took a few seconds to register.
“Waaeeyooooowaaeeyoooooo …”
Jeremy and Herbert dropped the blanket and froze.
The wail of a fire engine grew louder and louder.
“Wah wah wah!” Karla was exercising her lungs full blast now. Jeremy grabbed the baby into his arms and rocked her back and forth. This seemed to work; the crying scaled back to whimpering. The young men stood transfixed as they heard the siren coming up their street.
And then the vehicle shot past the house, towards the park.
Herbert freaked out. “F….k f….k f….k! What’ll we do? What’ll we do? We don’t want no baby! We’re no kidnappers! Go away baby! Shut up Shut up!”
“You shut up!” Jeremy almost dropped the baby as he swung out at Herbert. “Do something useful! Go find some milk for the baby!”
“This is not my house! You go, I’ll hold the baby.” Herbert held his hands out and clumsily folded the baby against his chest. He had never held a baby before. It felt oddly soothing, a little warm body against his.
Jeremy watched doubtfully. “You’re sure, Herbert? Don’t drop her!”
“Yeah man. Go on! See – she likes me!” Indeed, the baby had almost stopped crying.
“NEEEEEeeeeeeNAAAAaaaaaaaNEEEEeeeeNAAAaa…”
The young men froze again as a police car shot past. The baby’s cries resumed in high volume.
“Go go GO!” Herbert ‘s voice was high-pitched in fear and desperation. “We need to keep her quiet somehow!”
Jeremy hastily exited into the house.
#
Eerie silence surrounded Sheila. It was like time had stopped. Where was the police? Is there nobody out there? Her face was streaked with tears as she fumbled with her phone again, to call somebody, anybody who could be there immediately.
“Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Ma?” Why couldn’t she hear me?
“Hi love.” Crackling noises broke up her mother’s voice. “Sorry, my phone’s dying. Are you okay? You sound ill.”
“Ma, I need you. Something’s happened to Karla. Please come.”
Through the sobbing voice, Saroj instantly registered that most precious name: Karla. Her darling grandchild.
“What! What’s happened? Is she sick? Are you at Emergency? I’m coming.”
“No Ma! I’m at the park! Karla’s gone! I can’t find her!”
Saroj’s mind raced from images of a limp, pale baby Karla lying motionless on a stretcher, to Sheila alone and forlorn in an empty park, to a bloodied Karla thrown askew in a gutter. Please please God, don’t do this to my grandchild! My poor baby! My daughter needs me.
“Where are you? Which park?”
“The one near home. The one where you always take the children.”
“Wait there. I’m coming.”
Somewhat relieved to hear her mother’s voice, Sheila didn’t notice the firefighter standing in front of her.
“How can I help you, ma’am?”
“My baby’s gone!” The horrible reality hit Sheila all over again, and sobs rose up once more.
The firefighter was trained to handle such situations; nevertheless, his heart lurched at the thought of a lost child. But practiced professionalism resumed, and he continued in a calm tone. “Could you describe what happened?”
Sheila recounted the details as best she could, with Dave clinging onto her left leg, silenced by the sight of his hero large as life right in front of him, here to solve everything just like Firefighter Sam did on video.
“NEEEEEeeeeeeNAAAAaaaaaaaNEEEEeeeeNAAAaa.”
A police car screeched to a halt at the park entrance, and the officer bounded out towards Sheila and the firefighter.
“What’s going on?”
Almost simultaneously, another car was heard. Sheila’s mother came running up. Saroj gave her daughter a hug, scooped Dave up into her arms, and turned to listen as the police officer questioned Sheila. Where exactly had the stroller been? How long was the stroller left unattended? Had she seen anyone around the park? Anyone at all? Who else had been there?
Meanwhile, the firefighter looked around, walked down to the creek, came back to check the pathway for signs of stroller wheels. Faint tracks seemed to go to the park entrance, and ended at the tarred street. A few feet ahead was an intersection. The stroller could have gone in any of three directions.
“Judging by the tracks, the stroller was wheeled out of the park, but to where? We need some clues,” the police officer said. “We’ll have to question the neighbouring houses, to find out if anyone saw a stroller go by.” She turned to Sheila.
“Ma’am, let me take you home. There’s not much you can do here. We’ll get some help to study the tracks.”
“I’ll take her home, I’m her mother.” Saroj stepped up.
“Thank you ma’am, but it’s my duty to see the lady is safe. And the little boy. I’ll drive them, you can follow in your car.”
With no other alternative in sight, Sheila and Saroj meekly followed the officer to the cars, little Dave holding tight onto Sheila’s hand.
#
A cup of milk in one hand, a spoon and a cookie in another, Jeremy pushed the door open with his elbow and came back into the garage. Herbert was pacing the floor, baby still in his arms. He opened his mouth to complain about the long wait. Just then the baby lifted her head off his shoulder, realized once again that this was nobody she knew, and let out another loud wail.
“Hush baby, Hush. See what I’ve got for you.” Jeremy waved the cup and the cookie in the baby’s face, who wasn’t impressed at all, and continued her wailing.
“C’mon, feed her, get her to stop the noise, dammit.”
“Okay, sit her down in the stroller, yes, that’s perfect,” Jeremy said, as Herbert put the baby down clumsily in the stroller, and straightened her up into a sitting position.
Jeremy held the cup under the baby’s chin and spooned out some milk, but the baby’s mouth was shut tight. Ignoring the dribble flowing down the baby’s dress, he tried again. With the same result.
“Come on, good baby, open your mouth.”
Karla just stared back quizzically. What was this man trying?
In a flash of brilliance, Jeremy dipped the cookie in the milk and brushed it against the baby’s lips. Karla’s tongue instinctively licked the moistened tidbit. Mmm, nice! She opened her mouth just a little. And took in some more.
“Hey, that works! She’s eating!” Herbert was relieved at their success.
The baby ate up all the cookie dipped in milk, never mind the messed up dress front.
What next? Jeremy remembered that a baby needs to be burped. He picked Karla up and expertly patted her against his shoulder. The baby settled comfortably against him. No more wailing, on a full stomach. She drifted off to sleep.
Phew! For now, at least they didn’t have to worry about loud wails being heard down the street. But whatever were they going to do with the baby? How could they get the stroller out to a buyer?
#
In less than a minute, the police car pulled up in Sheila’s driveway, and Saroj parked alongside. Gently supporting Sheila’s elbow, the police officer guided her towards the front door, where she fumbled for her keys, her vision still clouded from crying.
“Here, I have it.” Saroj had her own set of keys to her daughter’s house. She opened the door, then turned to Sheila. “Have you called Marty?”
Marty! Why hadn’t she called Marty yet? Then Sheila remembered. He was the first person she had called, but of course she hadn’t been able to reach him. Aloud she said, “Huh? Oh yes. I’ll try him again.”
“Sheila? What’s up?” This time Marty answered on the first ring.
Hearing his voice, Sheila was both happy and furious. And then the tragedy overwhelmed her all over again. “Marty, our baby’s gone!”
“Speak up Sheila. What’re you saying? Gone? Gone where?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to explain. “The stroller is gone! Karla was in it! It just disappeared!”
“What? How can it just disappear? Where was it? Where were you? You’re not making any sense.”
Sheila was blubbering now, unable to speak coherently, frustrated that Marty didn’t understand.
“Here, let me tell him.” Saroj took the phone from Sheila’s hand. She didn’t know the complete story herself, but at least she could tell her son-in-law to come home right away.
#
“My tummy is growling, man.” Herbert massaged his stomach.
“Mine too, actually,” Jeremy agreed. “I’ll go get us something to eat.” With a worried glance at the sleeping baby, he went back into the house, and soon returned with slices of bread and salami. They slapped sandwiches together and ate hungrily.
By now it was dark outside, past six in the evening.
The sudden glare of lights through the garage door window startled both Jeremy and Herbert.
“We’re busted, man, the police are here.” Herbert began to panic again.
“Relax, that’s just Mom. See, she doesn’t come into the garage at all. We’re ok.” After the first second, Jeremy continued chomping on his sandwich.
#
Jeremy’s mom turned her car into the driveway and switched off. It had been a long day’s driving. After doing her regular bus route in the morning, Ann had taken on an extra half shift in the afternoon. Now all she wanted to do was sit in front of the TV, then go to bed. She opened the front door and went into the kitchen. The house was silent. Where was Jeremy? Loafing around with some no-good friends, I bet.
That boy! She loved her son dearly, but he had turned out a bit of a disappointment. Graduated high school, thank goodness, but couldn’t find a job. Not yet. Poor guy, life had not been easy on him. Dealing with a dad who hit out at his son whenever his drinking got out of control. Which was almost every evening for years, till she finally left him.
They had been living in a tiny basement, which was all they could afford. Ann and Jeff had moved in together immediately after high school, both sets of parents clearly telling them to get out and fend for themselves. Nevertheless, Ann had had visions of being a romantic twosome, forging into the big, wide world ready to conquer. They would work days and take night courses. She dreamed of being a nurse, he fantasized about owning a construction business.
Instead, Jeff neglected to send out his one-page resume, preferring to sit around quaffing cans of beer. In desperation, Ann found work at a McDonald’s, taking as many shifts as they would give her. Going to university was out of the question. She barely made enough to pay the bills. Especially the beer bills. And then she became pregnant.
Ann worked till the pains came. It was not an easy delivery, but little Jeremy’s puckered face made everything worth it. One other good thing happened – Jeff had to find work. Which he did. Intermittently, but at least there was food on the table (and more beer in the fridge).
Ann dared to have visions of being a stay-at-home mom. But Jeff’s drinking became worse, and he turned violent. On several occasions, she had to run out of the house with the baby. Then he stopped giving her any money. Not even for groceries. What was she to do? Going back to McDonald’s was out of the question. Where would she leave her baby?
An old school friend came to the rescue. Betty was a bus driver now, with regular work and flexible hours. Chatting on the phone one day, Betty suggested that Ann get a Class 2 Driver’s License, so she could apply to the STM[1]. The company had a mandate to be an equal opportunity employer and was eager to hire women. Betty even offered to babysit Jeremy while Ann got her license. That was the clincher!
Ann got the bus driver’s job, part-time at first, which suited her as she could stay home with the baby for long stretches. As Jeremy grew, Jeff’s drinking escalated because he sat at home with Ann bringing home a good salary. He was supposed to take care of his son, but too often Jeff forgot to make dinner, and when Jeremy complained, Jeff hit out at him. Ann often came home to a bruised little boy.
After seven long years, Ann realized Jeff was not going to change. She was now a full-time bus driver, well respected for her steady and safe driving. Secretly, she found a modest house whose mortgage she could afford. Secretly, she packed and moved boxes, till only a few cups and plates remained. And one day, she picked Jeremy up from elementary school and drove straight to their new home.
After the initial hiccups of breaking away from Jeff (no divorce needed – they weren’t married in the first place), Ann settled down to life as a single mom with a full-time job. The bus driving shifts afforded flexibility in work timings, so she could spend some time with her growing son.
Too soon, though, Jeremy rebelled against her constant fussing. The tall, confident yet secretive young man seemed a far cry from the timid little boy of just yesterday. Ann didn’t know what exactly he did behind the closed doors of his room. Sometimes she feared that the faint herb-like aroma was marijuana. No, it couldn’t be, her boy was essentially a good boy. Her tentative enquiries elicited vague one-word responses, and Ann was happy to take them at face value.
This evening, Ann reached into the fridge for sandwich ingredients. Vaguely, she noticed that the bread slices were askew and the deli meat package seemed to have shrunk, but she was focused on just putting together something to eat. Her plate piled with food, Ann slumped down on the couch and reached for the remote.
#
Hunger abated, Jeremy and Herbert settled down on overturned milk crates. Baby Karla continued sleeping peacefully.
“Now what, man? How’ll we ever get the stroller out? How can we get rid of the baby?” Herbert was anxious to get on with it.
“Chill, man, let’s figure this out.” Jeremy needed time to think through the added complication of what to do with a baby.
Whoosh! A glare of lights shone through the garage door windows again. Both young men spun their heads around.
“What’s that? Who’s that? F…k man, we’re surely busted now! That’s surely the police!”
This time Herbert’s worst fears turned real. Peeking cautiously through the glass, the young men saw the RCMP sign emblazoned on the parked car. Both froze as they heard the sound of footsteps receding towards the front door.
“I’d better go in before Mom panics.” His presence of mind returning, Jeremy quickly stepped out the side door into the yard, and walked nonchalantly toward his front door, like he was just returning home. He came up behind the police officer just as she rang the doorbell.
“Good evening, ma’am, sorry to trouble you tonight, but we’re wondering if you saw anything unusual on your street this evening.”
Ann’s eyes widened at the sight of the policewoman. Through her surprise, the words took a few minutes to register.
The officer repeated the question. “Ma’am, did you notice anything unusual on your street this evening? A woman has reported a missing baby, we’re asking people who live here if they saw somebody with a stroller going down the street.”
“No, officer, I didn’t see anything, I’ve just come home from work.”
Even as she responded, Ann saw Jeremy coming up behind the police officer. “Where’ve you been? Why’re you so late coming home?”
The officer turned around to see who was behind her.
“Hi Mom. Hello, officer. I was at Herbert’s all afternoon, we were helping his dad organize the garage.” Jeremy and Herbert had in fact helped out there, but that was yesterday. Never mind, what’s in one day, it served the purpose of an alibi for now.
Concluding that these residents could not provide any worthwhile clues, the officer said goodbye and walked across to the opposite house to continue her enquiries.
Jeremy maintained a look of innocence as he followed his mom into the house.
“Care for a sandwich? Or some hot chocolate? I’m going to make some for myself.”
“No thanks Mom, we ate at the McDonald’s. I’ll go look up some job postings on the ‘net.”
Ann gave her son a half-credulous look, wanting to believe in his stated job search efforts, knowing from past experience that it may not be quite true. Oh well, she was exhausted.
“Okay, I’ll watch some TV then. ‘Nite.”
“’Nite, Mom.”
#
“Gotta go. Emergency.” Marty was hardly coherent as he grabbed for his jacket and rushed past his colleague’s desk. “Tell the boss I have an emergency.” It was after six, but working past closing time was an unspoken expectation.
All kind of drastic images raced through Marty’s head as he mechanically drove home, a little harder on the pedal than usual, channeling some of the anxiety into cursing the traffic. Precious little Karla! What could’ve happened? Why would anyone want to take a baby? We are ordinary folk, what ransom could anyone expect from us? Was it some weirdo? Oh God, please let it not be a weirdo, my precious innocent sweetie, what would he do to her?
Marty felt a long-forgotten sensation at the back of his eyes. He blinked as tears prickled through, and slammed on his brakes as the car in front stopped suddenly. Darn, darn, darn. Move, you fools! I’ve got to get home NOW! Mercifully, home was the next highway exit.
Screeching to a halt in the driveway, Marty jumped out of the car. His subconscious barely registered the parked police vehicle as he ran through the open door into his house.
The living room was ablaze with lights, and full of people – a few he recognized as neighbours, the others were mostly Sheila’s relatives. He should’ve known. His mother-in-law had been busy on the phone, calling the whole Indo-Canadian community. This was her way – call out the troops! – the more helpers the merrier! Or not. Several faces turned towards him in varying degrees of sympathy and curiosity. A handful of shrieking toddlers chased each other around. The din of conversation was loud, as everyone offered theories about how it could have happened.
Through the throng, Dave ran up. “Daddy! You’re home!” Marty picked up his son. Beyond, he saw Sheila’s smudged face. Two women had their arms around her as all three sat huddled on the couch. Saroj hovered over them, one hand stroking her daughter’s head, the other akimbo, successfully looking both imperious and concerned. She was the first to speak.
“What took you so long to get home?”
“I left the second I got your call.”
Sheila looked up with great relief but continued to sit between her two friends. Dave scrambled down from Marty’s arms and wedged his little form onto his mother’s lap.
As Marty stood there feeling helpless, Randy (Sheila’s cousin once-removed) came up from behind and thrust a glass of whiskey into Marty’s hand.
“Here bro, you need this.”
Randy put his arm around Marty’s shoulders and guided him towards the bunch of men standing around in the family room. Sheila’s uncles came up and began to sympathize. One offered the name of a detective agency, the other hinted he knew how to summon ‘strongmen’ to solve the situation. Wink wink.
Marty half-listened to the older men. His eyes began to smart again. Oh no, he couldn’t possibly cry now. Then his nose twitched, and he turned towards the pungent smell.
The kitchen was overflowing with women of all ages and sizes. Someone was chopping onions. Someone else was peeling potatoes. Another was stirring a large pot on the stove, from which wafted the fragrance of spices mixed with tea leaves. Yet another was busily arranging mugs on a tray. This was the community’s typical response to tragedy – comfort the victims with food and drink. And be there. Just so you can help somehow.
Only then did Marty notice the police officer at the far end of the living room, pen poised over notepad, in deep conversation with Deepak, another of Sheila’s cousins. Finally, somebody who could do something concrete.
“Excuse me, I’d better talk to the police officer.” Marty broke away from the uncles and headed towards the officer.
“I’m the father. What are you doing to find my daughter?”
The officer turned towards Marty. “First, we need a photograph. It will help us identify your child when we find her.”
“Here you go.” Saroj had been listening in from behind. Now she grabbed a photo-frame from the credenza and thrust it at the police officer.
“Thank you ma’am.” The officer glanced at Saroj only long enough to take Karla’s photo from her before continuing to explain standard procedures to Marty. As she spoke, the glare of headlights through the living room window signaled the arrival of the police detective. A man in plainclothes entered and walked straight up to his colleague. Together, the officers headed towards Sheila, drawing her away from the others to the dining table where they could sit down and interrogate her methodically.
#
Jeremy stared at the laptop screen intently. He had been playing the game for over an hour, teaming up with someone from Japan to play against another pair from South Africa. These international tournaments were so exciting! Now there was a lull; perhaps a washroom break? His mind wandered even as his eyes continued on the screen. Suddenly, he remembered that Herbert was in the garage. With a baby.
The baby! I wonder what’s happening there. I better go check.
Carefully tiptoeing, Jeremy went down the stairs and into the kitchen. The lights were off. Mom must’ve gone to bed. He gingerly opened the door to the garage.
At first, there was total silence. As Jeremy’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, his ears picked up the sound of soft snoring. Herbert was asleep! And the baby? Jeremy listened harder and picked up the rhythm of the baby’s steady breath. Phew, all was well. Jeremy backed into the main house again.
“What’s up?” Ann stood at the top of the stairs.
Startled by her presence, Jeremy blinked a few times and muttered, “It’s nothing, Mom, I was just looking for my old job file in the garage. It’s not there.”
“Oh okay. Why don’t you get to bed, it’s past midnight.” Ann turned and went into her bedroom.
#
Jeremy slept fitfully for a few hours. Through the mist of sleep, he saw himself pushing a stroller, a smiling baby looking lovingly up at him. Almost imperceptibly, the faint sound of a baby’s cry intruded at the corner of his brain. Was it a part of his dream?
There it was again.
A baby’s cry? Whoa! Jeremy jumped up, fully awake now. The baby’s crying! Who else heard it? Mom? The neighbours? I have to stop it! Barely remembering to avoid making a noise, Jeremy raced down to the garage.
Herbert was pacing the floor, a crying Karla in his arms.
“She refuses to shut up! You try!”
Jeremy grabbed the baby and attempted shushing her, but Karla was fully awake, hungry, angry, and in no mood to give in.
Without warning, the door behind them opened, and Jeremy was blinded by a sharp shaft of flashlight.
“What’s going on?” Ann stood there in silhouette, voicing her incredulity. The flashlight shone back and forth, revealing Herbert, stroller, a wailing Karla in Jeremy’s arms, and Jeremy immobile with defeat.
“Jeremy, what’s going on here?” Ann switched on the garage lights to confirm she wasn’t sleepwalking. Darn these boys! She could count on them to get her really frazzled!
“Whose baby is this? How did it get here?”
Herbert was first to speak up. “We didn’t want no baby! We just wanted the stroller!”
“A stroller? Why do you want a stroller? Have you had a baby? You’re not making any sense! Jeremy, speak up!”
“Mom, relax. We just had this idea, Herb and I. We just wanted to make a few bucks …”
Through the conversation, Karla’s wailing was reaching a crescendo. Ann could barely hear her son. She took a step forward, took Karla from Jeremy, and automatically began to sway while gently patting the baby. The wails reduced magically.
“Let’s go into the house. We can keep the baby quiet in there. Come on.”
Jeremy and Herbert followed Ann into the kitchen. Karla was still whimpering. Ann cooed softly.
“Poor little darling. She must be so hungry. Hold the baby, I’ll find a feeding bottle.”
Jeremy quickly dismissed the faint thought of explaining how he had successfully fed the baby earlier that night.
A few minutes later, Karla was lying in Ann’s arms, contentedly attached to a supply of milk.
“Okay now, out with it. What’s the story?”
#
The house was quiet now. The kitchen was finally inactive. Most people had gone home, to put their children to bed, to go to bed themselves – it was another working day tomorrow. Saroj had taken her grandson to his room, and, patting Dave to sleep, had fallen asleep herself in the chair. A couple of older men – Sheila’s maternal uncles – sat around the dining table, speculating in hushed tones possible reasons for Karla’s disappearance.
“Could be a kidnapping.”
“No, why would kidnappers want a middle-class child? How could they expect any respectable ransom? Marty isn’t a millionaire.”
“Some guys don’t care who they kidnap. They probably think anyone would find the money to get back their child. This is Canada. People have resources.”
“Could be racial. Someone who hates the browns.”
“Hope it’s not some weird guy, mental, you know …”
On the living room couch, Sheila sobbed softly into Marty’s shoulder. How could they even think of lying down, forget sleep. Goodness knows where their little baby was, in what condition, asleep, awake, crying, hungry, injured, molested …
Tring tring! A light went on in Marty’s pocket.
“This is Officer Claire from the police. Am I speaking with Martin Soares? Sorry to disturb you sir, this late at night. It’s in connection with your missing daughter.”
“Yes, yes, this is Martin Soares. Do you have any news?”
“Yes Mr. Soares. On our door-to-door investigation last evening, a resident of the parallel street reported seeing two young men pushing a stroller. But he couldn’t say where they went exactly, as he was called away from his front window.”
Marty’s heart leaped as his hopes rose. “So it’s in our neighbourhood, then. Can I go talk to this resident?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. We have to protect his privacy. We needed to inform you that we have a possible lead and are now focusing the investigation on the street next to yours. We will keep you informed.” Click. The phone went dead.
Frustrated and hopeful at the same time, Marty returned to Sheila. Better not to get her hopes up, she might run right out to knock on doors herself, Marty thought. Let me wait a while before telling her anything.
In answer to Sheila’s enquiring look, he mumbled, “It’s nothing. A business caller from China.”
#
As Jeremy and Herbert recounted the events of the past few hours, Ann’s heart sank. This was no minor convenience store theft her son had committed for which he could be let off with a stern warning and one night in the cooler at most. There was a baby involved. A living, breathing, innocent human being. With living, breathing parents who were probably devastated. And determined to get their child back.
The sky was getting lighter now. As she stared distractedly out the window, Ann saw a patrol car drive slowly by. The police were already on the prowl. She looked down at the baby, asleep in her arms, not a care in the world.
“What a foolish thing to do!”
Ann turned to the two young men seated at the edge of their chairs, looking much the worse for having stayed awake all night, yet wired with anxiety, fear, sheepishness, helplessness. They were still little boys! Expecting someone else to solve their problems. Usually her.
“What shall we do now?” It was a semi-rhetorical question. Ann wanted to see how Jeremy and Herbert would respond.
“We don’t want no baby.” Herbert could only repeat himself.
“You could keep the baby?” Jeremy suggested wildly.
“Are you nuts? And how would I explain where the baby suddenly came from?”
“I know! Let’s put the baby back in the stroller and leave it in the park.”
“That’s really clever. We’ll be spotted by one of the neighbours. The police officer knocked on all doors down the street last evening, remember? Besides, there’s a patrol car driving around.”
Tring tring!
Three sets of eyes dilated immediately. Had the police found out?
Motioning the young men to stay where they were, Ann answered the phone.
“Is Herbert there? He didn’t come home last night. I need him to run some errands.”
Sighing with relief, Ann informed Herbert’s dad that his son had indeed spent the night with Jeremy – how true that was! – and would be home soon.
Herbert perked up on hearing his name. Visions of his no-nonsense dad ready to swing a belt at the very hint of any wrongdoing jolted the young man into suggesting the right thing.
“Why don’t we just return the baby to her parents?”
Ann and Jeremy looked at Herbert in disbelief.
“That’s sweet! What if the parents want revenge? We’ll be in the clink for years. No man, I’ve got plans for my life, I do.” Jeremy was sure they wouldn’t get away unscathed.
Ann went from disbelief to seeing a faint possibility in Herbert’s idea.
“Wait a minute, this could work. After all, this was an unintentional kidnapping. Right? And without any intention, you didn’t mean any harm. And the very fact that you want to return the baby shows your generous hearts.”
“But where do we take the baby? We don’t know where she lives.” Herbert started second-guessing himself.
“We have to take her to the police station, of course. They will know how to find her parents.”
“No police!” Both Jeremy and Herbert shuddered as they recalled past encounters with the law.
“You have a better idea? Come on, I’ll get my coat.” Ann put the baby down on the couch and stood up.
#
Mug of coffee in hand, Officer Claire walked over to her colleague’s desk. “Here’s a list of all residents on Smith Street. Are you familiar with these people? Anybody likely to be a kidnapper?”
“Hmmm …” Officer Pierre scanned the list. “I haven’t met most of them, which probably means they’ve stayed above the law. Hmmm … Wait a minute, this name sounds familiar … Braithwaite … wasn’t there a young man we picked up for stealing cigarettes?”
But Officer Claire’s attention was elsewhere. “Well, well well! See who’s walking through the door! The Braithwaites themselves!”
Both officers looked on with growing surprise as Ann entered, baby Karla in her arms. Jeremy and Herbert followed close behind, fear, doubt, and distrust evident in their demeanour.
“How can we help you?”
“Wed like to give this baby back to her parents. We have her stroller too. In the back of our car.”
Claire and Pierre exchanged a knowing glance. Wonders never cease! The case was solving itself!
Turning back to Ann, Pierre said, “Not so easy. We need the whole story first. First of all, who are you? Who’re these two young men?”
“I’m Ann Braithwaite, this is Jeremy my son, and that’s Herbert White, Jeremy’s friend.”
Pierre jotted down the names as Claire briefly shook hands with the three.
“Let’s go to the back room where you can give us your account of the incident.”
#
The ringing phone woke Marty out of his fitful doze. He had been sitting up on the couch all night, cradling Sheila as she alternated between sobs and sleep. Now, he moved his wife’s head from his shoulder to the cushion as gently as he could and answered his cell phone.
“Marty Soares here.”
“Good morning Mr Soares. This is Police Officer Claire. You and your wife need to come down to the station immediately. Somebody’s just brought a baby in. You need to come identify whether this is your baby.”
“Are they demanding a ransom?” Marty’s heart lurched at the thought of little Karla being held hostage – Tied up with rope? Mouth taped? Worse? He shuddered visibly.
“Sorry but I can’t disclose further information. Please come immediately.”
#
Their car screeched to a halt outside the police station and Marty and Sheila ran in. Officer Pierre was at the door, expecting them. He greeted them quickly and ushered them into his office cubicle. Even as they walked in, the two were bursting with questions.
“What do you have for us?”
“Where’s my baby?”
Sheila’s tear-streaked face and Marty’s puffy eyes sent a pang of sympathy through Pierre. Then professionalism returned.
“Please have a seat. We have some good news. A baby has been found. She’s here with us.”
Sheila shot up from her chair. “Where is she? I want to see my baby now!”
“Yes ma’am, of course. Please have a seat while I fetch the baby from the back room.”
Pierre hastened out and returned carrying a sleeping Karla.
“My baby! Give her to me!”
“So you confirm that this is your baby?” Pierre said uselessly, even as Sheila grabbed Karla away from the officer’s arms.
Startled awake by the sudden activity, Karla turned her head, saw a face she knew, wrapped her arms around her Mommy’s neck, and let out a loud wail of complaint. Where were you? Why didn’t you come earlier?
“Hush hush, Karla pet, we’re here now, your Mommy and Daddy are here.” Marty laughed out with relief and put his arms around his little family.
Pierre gave the Soares a couple of minutes to revel in their reunion, then cleared his throat.
“Would you like to know what happened?”
Marty was still smiling broadly as he turned his head towards Pierre. “Oh. Sure. The important thing is that our baby is back with us.”
“Yes, I understand. We need to let you know the facts. Two young men stole your stroller from the park last evening. They had no idea there was a baby in there.”
“That’s so unbelievable. What a lame excuse.” Sheila’s hysteria was turning into anger. “How could they not have felt the baby? The stroller would’ve felt heavy.”
“Hmmm. How strange that no one saw them.” Marty looked quizzically at his wife, whose eyes widened at this possible hint of accusation. Before Sheila could protest her innocence, Pierre continued.
“Ma’am, as you can see, your baby is fine. They looked after her well. The two men are here. Do you want to call your lawyer now?”
“Why do we need a lawyer? We have our baby back.” Marty wanted the horror to end as soon as it could.
“Okay. But you should meet them. Let’s go to the back room.”
#
Arms folded, Officer Claire sat patiently watching the three individuals in the interrogation room with her. Ann was nervously biting her lip. In response to Claire’s enquiry, Ann had said they had no lawyer to call. Jeremy drummed his fingers on the table, head bowed. Herbert’s eyes darted around the room, expecting doom to descend on him at any moment.
A few minutes back, Pierre had checked records to confirm that Jeremy and Herbert were ‘known to the police.’ Claire went over the facts of the case in her mind. Okay, they brought back all the stolen goods – intentional and unintentional. But they had caused considerable stress – panic – to innocent citizens. Not to forget the police work over the last twelve hours. They needed to be taught a lesson. Definitely some time in jail. Surely the baby’s parents will demand retribution.
The door opened. Pierre walked in, followed by Marty and Sheila, and Karla snuggled in her mother’s arms.
Pierre looked directly at Jeremy. “We are giving you a chance to explain, before laying charges. Here are the parents of the child. Do you have something to say to these two persons? You have the right to remain silent.”
Confused by the option, Jeremy looked at Ann for help.
“Go on, speak up if you want to. You’re an adult now.” Ann was encouragingly unhelpful.
“We didn’t want no baby!” Herbert repeated yet one more time.
“That’s right. We just wanted to make a few bucks, see. We thought the stroller was empty. It would’ve fetched us enough for our needs,” Jeremy clarified.
Marty and Sheila’s heads had cleared magically, now that their precious Karla was back, unharmed and fighting fit. They looked at the persons before them, two pathetic young men, barely out of boyhood. Defeat was written all over one man’s face; the other’s face was screwed up as if fighting tears. Had they really thought they would get away with stealing a stroller? How naïve can petty thieves get?
In the pause, Pierre turned to Marty. He wanted to move the case along.
“How would you like to proceed? Do you want to lay charges?”
Marty’s eyes met with Sheila’s. Grateful altruism flowed through their hearts. These sorry young men had just been looking for a fast buck. They hadn’t meant any harm. In fact, it looked like they had taken good care of Karla, judging by her contentedly sleeping form. Marty turned to the police officer.
“No charges.”
2015
[1] (Société de Transport de Montréal – Montreal Transit Corporation)
[1] (Société de Transport de Montréal – Montreal Transit Corporation)