Neighbourhood Watch

CHAPTER ONE 1

" THE NEIGHBOURHOOD "2

19853

Bill and June MacSorley, are celebrating their 55th wedding anniversary today. July the nineteenth, 1985. They've lived together, in the quaint little area of Gardenview, known as Forest Hill, or the Hill, at 18 Bishop's Ridge, since 1930.4

Bill was standing in front of the large window in his livingroom holding a photograph of his beautiful wife June. Remembering. 5

(1)6

When Bill and June bought here, it was already one of the more established, wealthier areas in Gardenview. An area, where if you met your neighbour on the street, you not only said ‘hi' but you would stop and talk. As you would over the backyard fence. Neighbours would often share afternoon tea or dinners at night. Or partner up for a game of golf or share tennis courts on the weekends. 7

The majority of homeowners who lived here were people from the upper crust of society. Doctors, lawyers and primarily professional people. The houses were huge, stately, two or three story, brick homes, with yards and lawns that were ‘manicured' weekly. Back then there wasn't so much as a blade of grass out of place in the Hill. 8

The streets were, and still are, richly shaded with large, old, trees. Huge maples, sumacs, elms and even the odd oak tree helped to create a shrouded, leafy, umbrella overhead that dappled the sunlight on any summer's day. There were even two of the older streets still surfaced with bricks. But their time was just about up. Time and tree roots were about to ruin these two streets as they had both done to the other streets here. 9

It was in the late ‘50's, about the same time that the tree roots were tearing up the last two bricked streets in the Hill, when the trouble started. It wasn't really bad trouble. Nobody was shooting up the place, or kidnapping kids out of their front yards. Not yet, at least. But it was bad enough to make Bill feel somewhat responsible for it. Responsible enough to want to do something about it. June kept insisting he not be so hard on himself. 10

"It's not your fault," she said. "Just because you sold most of the houses here, doesn't make it your fault. You didn't twist anybody's arm to buy. Stop punishing yourself dear, because you're such a good salesman." She came over to him and kissed his cheek. Smiling, she added, "Besides, it's a beautiful, lovely area to raise a family. We like it." That was true.11

It didn't happen overnight. It was a slow process and took years. These troublemakers, who were literally, from the other side of the tracks, crept into the neighbourhood and quietly into some of the houses.12

They'd sneak in through an open window, or an unlocked door, late at night and take what they could and get out quickly. They never hurt anyone, thank God. It was the invasion of their privacy that no one liked.13

Some of the residents were so frightened by these home invasions and impersonal attacks in their quiet, quaint little neighbourhood, that, rather than fight, they put their houses up for sale. Bill tried to talk to them about their decisions to move but they wouldn't listen. In the end, he had no choice but to let them all go. If they wouldn't listen, there was nothing that he could do. Those kinds of people nobody wanted in the neighbourhood. Their houses were sold again. 14

Bill had to do something. 15

That was the planting of the seeds that would grow into the Neighbourhood Watch. 16

The idea that some people would actually move away because of a little trouble, bothered Bill quite a lot. He didn't like runners. They were better off moving away, then. Neighbours were supposed to stick together. Help each other out. Bill thought he could create that help by organizing the neighbours to work together. To keep their eyes open. To ‘watch'. 17

Bill's idea was to have one ‘lookout' from each street of the neighbourhood, to be at the ready. Either to take calls from anyone on their street who might have seen something that wasn't right, or if they see anything, anywhere in the neighbourhood, they knew who they could phone. 18

Each house of a lookout will display a sign in their front window that would let others know that there was help here in any way. Wherever that sign was displayed. Even it was just to listen to someone who wanted to talk. Just to have someone nearby. 19

(2) 20

‘That was a long time ago,' Bill thought as he put June's picture back down on top of the t.v., beside the baby picture of their daughter, Jennifer Anne. He smiled, turned and shuffled his way back to his lazy-boy rocker and sat down. At 78 he felt lucky just to be alive. Just to be able to still stand to pee, if need be, was nice too. But, he preferred to sit, now. His hip bothered him just about every time he got up. Like now. It ached so very deep that not only wouldn't it go away, but he hasn't had a good nights sleep in years. 21

He eased himself down into the familiar folds of his chair and relaxed, letting out a moan and a sigh as he did. His thoughts inevitably returned to the past and how much the world has changed over the years. How much quicker things are happening now. Especially over the past thirty or fourty. And yet, to him June has changed so little, compared to him, that is. She still looks the same as she did when they first met. Even though her hair, which was once a beautiful shade of strawberry red, is now snow white. But, at 75 she still looks just as beautiful today, as she did fifty five years ago. A smile creased his face.22

Back in high school Bill had his eye on the beautiful, young strawberry blond, June Donnelly, since they were both sophomores. When they were finally introduced, in their Junior year, Bill asked her to the Spring dance. She accepted. He was overjoyed. 23

After that dance they had become a ‘thing' on campus. 24

They were always together. And in 1930 they were married.25

For their honeymoon they went to Niagara Falls. The honeymoon capital of the world. They ‘honeymooned' there again on their tenth, as well as their fiftieth. June was as beautiful that night as she was on their wedding night.26

Bill lay his head back and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he pushed back hard in the chair causing the built in footstool to pop out. This time he winced. The replaced metal ball in his left hip ached mercilessly. He was going to try to sneak in a little snooze before June got back from the store. Only God knew how tired he was as he took off his glasses and lay them on the little marble-top table beside him. 27

Three years ago, after his hip replacement, he started using a cane to walk. The doctor told him he'd have to. It was either that or a walker. He was determined never to use a walker. The doctor said that unless he walked as much as he could physically handle, each and every day, his chances of ever walking again without a cane, was nonexistent. He said that the damage done to the hip was so devastating, partially due to his age, that Bill should count himself lucky to be walking at all. 28

June became a real nature nut then. She started insisting he come out and walk with her, all the time. Everywhere. And normally he did. As much as he could physically handle. Just like the Doctor said. But today he was tired and his hip ached terribly. So she went to the store alone. He slipped into sleep as the grandmother clock on the mantle struck two.29

Music played in his head. Familiar music, but he couldn't recall it's name. 30

He was 25. June was 22. Her skin freckled, fair and soft. Her hair was the colour of a Red Bay sunset. And she was laughing. Now he remembered. They were at the picture show watching a cartoon called ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. Oh how she pestered Bill to take her. He was somewhat reluctant to go to a cartoon at their age, and without children. But he gave in and found the movie to be quite enjoyable. In fact, it turned out to be one of his favourites there after.31

Bill snorted in his sleep. Something disturbed him. He shifted in his chair, grinding his dentures, then chomping his lips and was deep in sleep once again.32

In August 1935, he was promoted at the Real Estate Co., and as a bonus was given two more counties. Bill took June out to dinner that night to celebrate. June was very excited herself, also having good reason to celebrate. She told him over dessert. 33

They were going to have a baby. They were both so unbelievably happy that it made the upcoming new year a double blessing. Ending this year with such joyous news and beginning the next year, so hopeful for a brighter future. 34

That night was unforgotten.35

There was a smile growing below the surface of Bill's face. But it was troubled by tears. Tears of the good times . . . and bad. He ground his dentures, trying to grind the thoughts away.36

Those nine months went by practically, in a flash, according to Bill. June had a completely different point of view on that topic. Where Bill loved to watch her waddle-walk like a duck, she hated moving around. It hurt so much. The baby was so heavy and so much strain on her back that as she got closer to her delivery date, the only place she felt comfortable was flat on her back in bed. 37

Bill loved just being near her. He loved the glow that she wore so tenderly. He loved the idea of their baby growing inside her. He loved watching and feeling her tummy grow with each month. And feeling the baby move and then kick. He loved it all. 38

June, at first, loved the idea of becoming a mother. Of becoming a family. At first! 39

Then a scant five weeks into the New Year and everything changed. She started having morning sickness all over again. Thank God it wasn't every morning. Luckily, it only lasted for two weeks, but then it was replaced by cramps. And the splitting headaches that lasted for hours at a time. The constant aches and pain in all of her muscles wore heavily on her. Especially her back and neck. 40

Her doctor made her stay in bed for the last eight weeks of her pregnancy. It was a relief to get off her feet and rest, but even lying in bed bothered her back. That contributed to making the remainder of the pregnancy, both restful and yet unbearable at the same time. 41

On a Tuesday night, on the fifth of May,1936, June MacSorley gave birth to a baby girl. She was 21" long and weighed in at 8 lbs. 12 oz. She had all of her fingers, and all of her toes, and two beautiful blue eyes and a perfectly shaped head, according to all of the nurses, that was fuzzy with a light coating of red hair. 42

But no one . . . not a single soul, noticed anything wrong.43

Bill choked and coughed, and opened his eyes. He rubbed his face clean of sleep, and kicked the footstool back into the chair. (His sleeping hip screamed to life as he did this.) He winced as he reached over and got his glasses off the table and put them on, and looked at the clock on the mantle. It was 3:15. He'd been asleep for well over an hour.44

"June? Are you here dear?" He yelled toward the kitchen, as he stood up.45

"Yes, dear." 46

"Why didn't you wake me?" as he stretched and yawned. 47

"Oh! Bill. You seemed so happy lying there with that smile on your face. I didn't have the heart to wake you."48

Bill was shuffling toward the bathroom. His kidneys were doing the jitterbug. 49

"Bill? . . . You using your cane? . . . Remember what the . . . " He shut the bathroom door without saying a word, but mumbled a few quietly as he hooked the cane on the door knob.50

A few minutes later, "Bill? Supper will be ready around five. Are you hungry?"51

"Depends." He said as he took his coat from the closet. "What did you make?"52

"It's Sunday silly. What do I always make on Sundays? A small pot-roast." She was now standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. "Where you off to old man?"53

"I'm going for a walk." He turned toward her and smiled as he buttoned up his overcoat. "Want to come?" His grin widened and he raised his eyebrows up and down, like Groucho.54

She smiled back and said, "No thanks." She retreated to the kitchen again. "Take your cane, and don't be late or go too far." She heard the front door shut and his cane make contact with the plank floor of the porch. ‘Click'.55

"I won't." Bill said to himself as he hobbled down the steps. His cane in his right hand, his left on the handrail. 56

He shrugged and pulled his collar tight. He wasn't as happy today with the way things were and missed the glory days of his youth. When, on any day, he wouldn't think about running after and catching any scumball that tried to get away from him. And even after the scumball got caught, Bill would give him an unforgettable thrashing. Or worse. That's what he missed. Nowadays, it takes him twice as long to walk to the park as it did back then. But he should count his lucky stars, because he could be in a wheel chair. So maybe having a metal hip bone and using a cane to walk isn't too bad. He shrugged again and kept walking. 57

When he arrived at the tiny, grassy park, he sat on his favourite bench and proceeded to feed the birds. And dwell on the past. The old days. The ‘Neighbourhood Watch' days. To be more precise, he was thinking about the Cleaning Company and how it came about. The get down and get dirty end of the business. And the men that worked along with him.58

CHAPTER TWO59

" THE WATCH "60

195761

Sometimes, it takes a personal attack, or something really close to home, to get people up off their duffs and move. 62

In 1957, it took Bill MacSorley. 63

Bill first saw it in a few small stories in the Criterion, the local newspaper. It didn't appear to be that big of a deal, but it was enough to make print. Some of these stories were from other towns. But some were about incidents in the north end of the city, and Bill had seen them, read them, and was now watching for the live version. It got his dander up and he wanted to try and stop it before it got started here, in the Hill. Whatever it was. Prostitutes. Small time burglars. Car thieves. Junkies. It didn't matter. If it wasn't part of the neighbourhood, then it didn't belong here. 64

Somebody broke into the Baker's house two blocks from Bill and June's. (That was about to become Rick Taylor's ‘watch'). These toughies took the little bit of money they found, tied the old couple up and made good their getaway by stealing their car.65

When June heard about this, she became very worried and fearful. It was only two blocks away, she told Bill. She insisted he buy a dead-bolt for both the front and back doors, and chains. And put a peephole in the front door.66

He did so. Put them in the next day.67

A couple of months later, while things were reasonably quiet, June was attacked on her way back from the store, less than a block from home. It was really no more than being roughed-up, pushed around and robbed. She'd gone to pick up a few treats for her and Bill. Chocolate bars, mixed candies, and some soda. On her way back, someone surprised her. 68

He slid behind her and slipped a filthy hand over her mouth before she knew what hit her, and grabbed a hold of her purse strap she had strung over her shoulder. She dropped the paper bag she was clutching in her arms and froze. She could hear the soda bottles ‘pop' as the bag hit the concrete and she could feel the cool liquid splash up on her bare legs and fizz on the sidewalk below her sneakers, which soaked up the soda and wet her bare feet inside. To her it sounded like the very distant roar of a crowd. He pulled her purse free and shoved her sideways into the hedges, then ran off. June caught a quick glimpse of his face as he looked back at her one more time, grinning, then disappeared between some houses.69

When she was sure that he was gone and not coming back, she got up and ran home. She told Bill, through a ton of tissue and a gallon of tears, what had happened. Insisting the whole time that they call the police. Pleading with him. Twice she picked the phone up. Twice he took it from her and put it back, calmly saying, ‘Not yet, June.'70

Bill put iodine on the scratches on her arms and legs and soothed her while he hugged her. He was livid with anger. Furious. Holding her close to him, he did his best to calm her down and at the same time keep his own anger in check. He told her that, if by some luck of the Irish, the Police caught this guy . . . (June had a very detailed description of the guy, right down to the heavily nicotine-stained fingers on his left hand. The one he held over her mouth.). . . he'd probably be back on the streets soon enough to do it again. Bill asked her if that was what she wanted.71

She thought about it for a couple of minutes. She really wanted to do the right thing and wanted to call the police. But what if Bill was right? And what if that guy gets out and comes after her for telling the police?72

"Bill?" she whined. She was frightened and confused and buried her head in his chest and cried. He took both of her hands in his and eased her back off his chest. Her hands were cold. He gave them a gentle rub to warm them, and swore to her that he would take care of this. He kissed her on the cheek. 73

"June. Why don't you go and have a warm bath, then crawl into bed? You'll feel better and think more clearly after you've rested. You can call the police in the morning. But I fear this guy will be back on the streets to do it again." He smiled at her and kissed her hands. "Go on, dear. Crawl into bed and let me take care of this." He let go of her hands. "I'm going over to talk to Jack Holtby anyway." 74

Bill got up and walked over to the closet to get his jacket. "Do you feel safe enough to let me go across the street? Or do you want me to stay?" He was holding his coat, ready to slip into it, or ready to stay. It was her call. "I don't mean to scare you, but I don't think he knows where you live. He ran the other way you said, didn't he?"75

She looked at him with little wet doe-eyes and nodded as she got up and walked to him, giving him a big hug and a kiss. "I'll lock the door after you and I'll go straight to bed." She kissed him hard, on the mouth. "Please be careful, Bill." 76

That night was not an easy sleep for June. Understandably so. She wrestled with sleep in much the same way that hoodlum wrestled her around. Only this time she did it to herself. Tossing and turning. Her thoughts were filled with scattered kaleidoscopic nightmares. Invaded by monsters from the past, drifting up from deep dark places in her memories to confront her once again. These were her demons.77

Around Christmas of 1936, when Jennifer Anne was six months old, June noticed something seemed to be wrong with her. She thought she should be able to hold up her head a lot better than she was doing. She could not. In fact, it wasn't until June noticed this, that she realized Jennifer Anne couldn't even repeat any normal sounds like mama, or dada.78

They took the baby to their doctor. He, in turn, sent them to Toronto for further tests. He didn't have the equipment to deal with this kind of thing here. They spent the next two days in absolute horror. Fearing the worst, but praying for good news. After two gruelling days, the doctors finally concluded that Jennifer Anne was tongue-tied. And not to make things worse, her brain was coated with a fluid that caused an unusually slow growth rate.79

The doctor simply told them he had no idea how long she would survive, and that there wasn't a great deal they could do for her.80

She died four months later. On the eve of her first birthday.81

June finally managed a restful sleep once Bill was safely in bed with her. 82

The next morning June rose refreshed, and found Bill on the phone. She came over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered something in his ear. 83

He excused himself from the party on the other end and hung up, giving June the chance to make her call to the police.84

Which she did. While she was on the phone, he poured out two cups of tea, and buttered some toast. When she finished the call, she told Bill the police were going to be here shortly. She ate her toast and nervously sipped her tea. 85

Bill told her he was glad and tried to tell her what he was doing on the phone, but she was just in too much of a hurry to listen right then. She had to finish her tea, then tidy up, then have her shower and get dressed, all before the police arrived.86

A little while later, while Bill was still on the phone in the dining room, there was a knock on the front door. June could see a car in the driveway through the front window, from the kitchen. Bill hung up the phone, then answered the door.87

The gentleman on the outside introduced himself as Officer Roy Battle. Bill pushed open the screen door and invited him inside. Officer Battle stepped in and nodded to June as he removed his hat. Bill shut the door behind him. 88

He was younger than she and Bill, fifteen to twenty years maybe. Bill led him into the dining room and introduced him to June. They shook hands then they sat together at the table.89

Officer Battle said he had a few questions he had to ask about the call Mrs.MacSorley made to the police this morning. He took out a note-pad and opened it up, then clicked his ballpoint. 90

"It won't take long," he said. "I'd like you to tell me exactly what took place . . . yesterday." 91

June went through the whole miserable ordeal again. She told him his height, the colour of his hair, and about his cockeyed left eye.92

Officer Battle wrote it all down in his quick scratchy script. Then he asked her why it took her until this morning to call the police?93

June looked over at Bill, who smiled at her. She said she was afraid and wanted time to think about what to do. She wasn't hurt any more than a few scratches. But she had a very uneasy sleep and when she woke today, she knew she should call the police. 94

He closed his notebook and clicked his pen again, then thanked them both for their assistance. 95

"This description you've given me is very good, Mrs.MacSorley. I'm sure it will be a great help in apprehending this guy." He stood up, June and Bill did likewise. As they all headed back to the front door, officer Battle asked Bill about the hand-painted sign in the front window, . . . three small houses with one large eye looking out of each house.96

Bill told him that it was a " . . . Neighbourhood Security Watch. Set up by the people in this neighbourhood to watch each others property. And to notify the police, should anything happen." He smiled. "They are the eyes of the police in the places the police can't always be." 97

Officer Battle liked it. "If it's as helpful as your description, well then, it should prove quite efficient. It'll be a very helpful tool, in any community. I wish you both, success." 98

Later on that day he called to say they found a young man down by the canal that fit June's description. Unfortunately, he was dead when the police found him. 99

-- to be continued --100