#peel regional police

[spockvarietyhour]

glamour shot, 1991

[dashofletters]

2 injured, 1 critically, after Brampton crash that knocked down pole - Toronto | Globalnews.ca

Descrease article font size Increase article font size Two people are injured, one critically, after a crash in Brampton that caused a pole to be knocked down onto the road. Peel Regional Police said emergency crews were called at 5:35 a.m. Monday to the area of Humberwest Parkway and Cotrelle Boulevard, which is near Castlemore Road, for a two-vehicle crash. Police said a pole had been struck…

[intersectionalpraxis]

Please use your platform to bring awareness to this. It's more rampant than the abuse in Catholic churches but not talked about half as much.

https://www.vice.com/en/article/qbe8bp/the-child-rape-assembly-line-0000141-v20n11

⚠️heavy tw for ALL articles and content here- sexual violence, rape, details of abuse and pedophilia⚠️

To be transparent, I have not read as many stories and articles about Rabbi's and figures of authority/in devout sects in Jewish communities disproportionately sexually abusing and violating children of their faith as much as I have about those in the Catholic church, so I had to do a little bit of reading into this since I wanted to know more/and didn't want to approach this without looking into it beyond surface-level/superficially. I still have more to learn about, and I can always re-address this in future posts as well.

After looking into the article you sent, in addition to some of the sources I discovered -I saw that a lot of these sexual abuse, predation, and exploitation of young children is happening mostly in what would be considered 'ultra-Orthodox' spaces (although we some of the cases I highlighted below, that's not always the case -but as noted in the beginning, yes, this is where it is most rampant) -in this respect, in terms of 'reported' -it is similar to the Catholic church -a lot of this is under/un-reported for various reasons, including stigmatization and internalizations of shame, but also because abusers are continuously supported and victims and survivors of sexual abuse are often silenced.

In the case of New York's (Brooklyn's) Haredi Community, for instance, which I briefly read about -even when sexual abuse from Rabbi's was reported -many were still unable to come forward due to some of the reasons I mentioned (as well as with fears of reprisal) -but especially because Rabbi's in this space are the one's you're supposed to 'talk to'/consult with before going to the police to document your allegations... and the fact that these sex predators would only be moved to another space or re-assigned in their religious circles or wouldn't get punishment in the first place even if they were charged at first or brought in for questions -just like all rapists in the world who are too often NEVER penalized for their crimes -they're protected. It's just absolutely horrendous.

So truly, as you can see, there are many elements that would prevent victims and survivors of abuse to talk about what happened to them, as this is in many cases globally because of rampant rape culture -not believing those who experienced sexual violence, to victim blaming and shaming -and adding in elements of religion -especially those within devout sects. It's all incredibly heartbreaking.

Here are some notable cases I found through a wiki source -and again, TW similar to above before reading please:

And a recent case I found, as well as a recent article talking about the rise of sexual abuse in the Orthodox community:

I also found a Literature Review on this topic -I will try to explore some time soon:

Thank you for bringing awareness to this, and for sending this article my way. I don't know how many people this will reach or how many folks will look into/research more about the systemic sexual violence and abuse rampant and evident in some Ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities/spaces, but this is important to talk about because NO victim and/or survivor of sexual abuse and violence should ever feel shame, stigma, or fear for talking about their experiences. They should never feel alone. And I hope more is done to stop this from happening to so many children and youths.

[deepdisireslonging]

Choices Chapter 2: Like a Shot

Ricky takes Esther back to her apartment. On their way out, they are attacked by a rival gang.

Warnings/Promises: gang-typical violence, food mention, fluffy-flirty Ricky

Word Count: 4800

Chapter 1: Valentine's Day

Friday, February 15, 1929

Bridgeport Township

When Esther came down the stairs the next morning, Starks was waiting for her with a cup of coffee and a map.

“Is it… spiked or-” Esther nodded at the cup.

With a smile, he handed it over. “Just plain coffee. I promise. Milk and sugar are in the kitchen, along with breakfast.” He popped open the breezeway so they could cross to the other side of the house.

When they reached the kitchen, Esther recognized the small space from her brief entrance the day before. In the hustle and bustle of moving her in, she’d missed its quaint details. Mrs. Anne sat at the small table against the door-side wall, darning some socks while Mr. Jim peeled potatoes. She pointed out the sugar on the far counter, and Starks grabbed the milk bottle from the ice box next to the back door. The stove in the corner easily radiated heat through the room. It was very welcome with how damp and drizzly it was outside. And, from the kitchen’s position behind Wardlow’s office, the oven probably seeped warmth into the wall right behind his desk. The large table island in the middle of the room was prepped with platters of toast, eggs, bacon (which Esther politely avoided), and a small plate with a pat of butter.

It was then, with the soft scrape of Mr. Jim’s knife, and the clink of plates and utensils, that Esther noticed how quiet the rest of the house was. “Most of the guys headed out early to prepare for the Bull Session,” Starks noted. “Any other morning, it would still be this quiet for anybody recovering from a late night. Or a busted head.”

Mrs. Anne tsked, flicking her eyes from Starks to Esther to point out the woman’s alarm.

“Ah. A busted head is just a hangover.” He laughed nervously, dipping his head in apology to the housekeeper. “Nothing too violent.”

“Oh,” Esther breathed in a sigh of relief. But she also observed how Ricky’s eye had not improved. It was still swollen and red around the lid and underneath. The purple bits from last night had settled deep into his skin. It looked painful. Her staring was interrupted by his placing the map on the counter.

A pigeon’s-eye view of Chicago’s city plan was outlined into regions. Names were labeled within each square. Some areas were clear of writing. Esther assumed they were neutral territories. Especially considering one of them contained the police station. Perhaps. Or maybe they were areas of flux as the crews acquired and lost ground. Stars on the map marked ‘businesses.’

Starks pointed at the square encompassing the townhouse just south of the city’s center. And then to Howls former locations. “We’re obviously here. But, as you can see, we have neighbors with conflicting interests. On the lakeside: Kenny Omega and The Father’s House. Everybody calls it Feathers. It’s a church front with a casino in the basement fellowship hall. He’s our biggest customer for hooch to keep his patrons spending.”

“Why feathers?”

“Some kind of angel pun, I think. That’s from before I joined the racket up here. Up here by the tracks on our northside is Chris Jericho and Jazzies. He’s got guys in the police force, so his casino is almost never raided. And definitely never shut down. We hire musicians from Jericho’s music shop front. Not often. But it keeps him happy.” He let the information settle. “Now, to keep you happy. Where am I taking you today?”

Esther looked over the map before pointing. “Here.”

His eyebrows arched. “You live in Jade territory?”

“I didn’t care who owned the block. Most people don’t. All that matters is that the rent is cheap, and it’s mostly quiet.” She frowned. “I thought Jade worked for Taz?”

“Yeah, but she came in with some land she won for herself as a display of her skills.” He shrugged. “We should probably go, but I can’t leave this around. How quick can you memorize it? Don’t worry about the exact dimensions and street names; the borders change too often. And you’ll get the gist of territories as you’re present for business meetings.”

With one last long look, feeling the Torrios’s interest on her back, Esther soaked up the information on the map. There were a few overlapping areas she wanted to ask about. But she knew Starks or Wardlow could fill her in later. Her apartment building looked so far away on the map. But it had only taken minutes to drive yesterday. She looked over the streets closely to make up for the blur of turns that she’d missed during her escape and then during the move. “Alright, I think I’ve got it.”

The oven door creaked as Starks opened it, washing the room in a swell of heat from the rabid flames inside. With the rush of air, he had to force the map into the opening so it would catch. One corner ignited. Then the miniature flame ate its way to the other side. He kept watch until the page was ashes before closing the door.

“Now we just have to borrow one of the cars and get moving.” He shared a nod with Mrs. Anne, who retrieved their coats from the hooks in the hall.

“One of the cars? It’s not that far of a walk. We could-“

He chuckled. “It’s cold out, Doll. Why shuffle through the snow and rain when you could travel in style?” He was amused by her agreeing smile. “Welcome to the Wardlow way of business.”

The car in question was sleek in design. But complicated to start. One of Ford’s Model A’s, as Starks identified, it still started with a crankshaft in the front grill. Starks insisted Esther sit in the front passenger seat during the process. After many a grunt, and a few curses under breath, the motor purred to life and off they went.

To cover up for his earlier struggle, he had no shortage of questions. Esther shared how her family had always lived on the outskirts of the city, out in River Forest. Her father’s bakery out there did well. But his back was broken in a driving accident; he had been crossing the street when a speeding car came careening around a corner. He couldn’t knead the tougher doughs, but her mother and brothers helped out. She was the first to move into the city center when seeking her fortune. And Starks shared how he was the first from his family to leave the state of Louisiana. But he deflected around the reasons for his move. Something about a job. Esther didn’t press.

The conversation eventually came to a lull. Starks hummed, then began to guide the car to the curb.

“Is everything alright?” Esther had been watching him adjust levers and press the different pedals, but it was a lot different from the old van she had sometimes driven for the corner grocer. This would be nothing like those deliveries.

“Wanna take the wheel for a bit?”

“Oh, no. I’ll have a lesson about-” she waved her hand over the dash, “all of this when the roads aren’t so slick.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he guided the car back into the minimal traffic. Because of the weather, there weren’t as many booths out by the street. Mostly ones selling something hot to eat or drink while the rest of the businesses kept their wares inside. Passerbys huddled against the cold and moved quickly as they dared over the icy sidewalks and slippery streets. Esther was glad for the car. “I have to admit, I kinda like being driven around. Thanks for bein’ my chauffeur.”

Starks tipped his hat, making her laugh. “My pleasure, miss.”

As they crossed the invisible threshold into Jade territory, Starks slowed their carefree clip down to a casual cruise. The speed blended in with the calm bustle of pushcarts and older cars. Also, his conversation was loose, distracted, while he kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. The buildings, slowly dipping from brick-built to brick-faced, and barely managed to decrepit, crawled by Esther’s window. When Cargill took over, she had initiated several projects to strengthen the community, usually meaning a bustle of builders. To Esther, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. If anything, it was quiet. Probably too cold out for the work teams. Mentioning this made Ricky’s grip on the steering wheel tighter.

Esther’s friend was just walking up to the front door of the building when Starks brought the car to a stop. The mere sight of the blonde, who embodied the flapper trends when she could, made her heart leap. She didn’t wait for him to open her door. She was out like a shot with a squeal mirrored by her friend, Mary.

“I saw all those men yesterday but didn’t see you. Heard about the raid, and then the shooting at Bill’s and thought the worst. But here you are!”

“Oh, there was a lot of… Yes. Everything worked out. I’m alright. And! I got a new position that came with a new place. But in all the rush, I forgot a few things. You don’t still happen to have my mother’s scarf, do you? I couldn’t find it last night and I-”

Mary beamed and laced her arm with Esther’s. “Yes, I do. It was perfect for my date last week.” They shared a giggle. “Didn’t work out more than for a free meal, but come on up while I find it and tell me about your new job.” She eyed the man at Esther’s side. “Is this your new boss? Are you a boxer, Mister-?”

“Starks.” He took her outstretched hand and lightly kissed her knuckles. “Ricky Starks. And no, to both questions. We have the same boss, and I’m… clumsy.” He lightly touched his eye. When she laced her other arm in his, he gladly let her take the lead.

“I’ve got a cousin that lives up in New York,” Mary said, leading them up the stairs. “When her mother was doing poorly, she came home for a while and taught us girls some exercise from London, and how to punch like she learned in the Bronx.” She shadowboxed outside her door. “Maybe Esther can show you a few pointers. I taught her everything my cousin showed me.”

They shared a laugh. Mary’s room was across the landing from Esther’s. It made for easy check-ins, mutual sewing assistance, shared meals, and the best moments of developing city sisters.

“Would either of you like some tea?” Mary swept from one side of her living space to the other in her quick way. “I’m going to make me a cup.”

Esther almost shed a tear with the realization of how much she would miss her friend’s daily hustle. “I’m alright, dear. Though Mr. Starks might need some. It wasn’t as warm in the car as he thought it would be.” To emphasize her point, he held up his hands and dramatically tried to unbend his half-frozen fingers. It made the women laugh; Mary uproariously, in her way. “In that case, we should hurry. You haven’t moved your sugar, have you?”

Their easy dance in the small corner kitchen, no more than a stove with a pair of burners on the top and a small counter, caught Starks in wonder. Mary rushed between the stove top and the cabinet of cups over the sink to one side while Esther handed her things. He likened it to watching fireflies in Louisiana; lightning up in as many corners of a grove as possible. Esther moved like… the only thing he could think of was the way sugar poured smoothly into a cup of something warm. Such a cup was placed in his hands while he did his best to keep up with Mary’s ceaseless conversation.

“So, where’s this new secretary- stenographer job?”

Esther sat by Starks on the low couch while Mary took the chair. “It’s downtown a bit. Comes with an apartment and everything! Maybe you could visit- oh. Maybe not. The boss is… a little shy.”

Starks caught her disappointment. He flashed a smile. “We have parties sometimes. And we never turn a pretty face away from the door.”

While her friend flushed, Esther breathed with wondering what sorts of parties could be held at the townhome. If they could actually be held at all, or if Starks was just being kind. She used the breath to blow steam off her tea. “I hope this one lasts for a while. It’ll be nice to have something steady. How’s my spot at the corner grocer’s?”

“He’s so sweet.” Mary swirled the spoon in her tea. “His younger son is even nicer, though not around often. He took over the deliveries since Joshua left for school. Delivers on foot, and in the Harrigan’s car. Did you know the van finally gave up the ghost? And you remember the Harrigans, right? Got that little tot who’s got great aim for kicking people in the shins. That’s them. And Mr. Brazer, that’s my boss, Mr. Starks, he’s so easy-going. Won’t let me lift more than a bag of apples if he can help it, the dear. I’ve already started to memorize the common customers. Which one’s like what kinds of lettuce, if we ever get any. Which ones keep asking for oranges. And which ones I have ta’ keep an eye on their kids. One lady- did you ever meet Mrs. Folle? Has a little girl who knocks over my carrots, I swear, every time they come in. Little carrot-top’s got a thing for watching them go everywhere, I guess. So, what all will you be secretary-ing?”

Starks passed a hand over his eyes. How did Esther ever keep up with this girl?

“I have to admit, I’m a little fuzzy on the details. But as far as I can tell, I’m going to be taking notes during meetings. That way the boss or any of his associates can read over them and keep updated. I’m assuming anyways; I haven’t actually started yet.” When she glanced at Ricky for help, he stammered out some half-baked story about how Wardlow was blessed with a strong income, and Esther’s work would help him dish the charity back into the city.

“That won’t be so bad. And you’ll be out of the cold. I get frozen every time someone opens the front door. You’ll be working days instead of nights like you used to, I’m sure. I’m so happy for you!” She reached over and lightly swatted Esther’s knee. “It’s exciting. A fresh start. And hopefully quieter than your last two places. Wolves… or Howls; whatever it was called.”

As Mary continued to chat, Esther and Starks shared a look. Nothing about this job was quiet, and they both knew it.

“Let me get that scarf, before I forget.” Mary finished her tea with a flourish. Spinning out of her seat, she hurried from her boudoir to her closet, to the box of hats and things under her bed. It ended up being in the first drawer of the boudoir, passed over in her haste. Esther began cleaning up the cups and saucers. When everything was put away, her friend was suddenly soft-spoken.

Mary handed over the scarf, letting her hand linger over Esther’s. “Hey, don’t forget me while you’re living in the heart of downtown and surrounded by all that elegance. Okay?”

“I could never. When my days off roll around, I’ll write. Who else could I get into mischief with?”

Ricky slid his hand into the crook of Esther’s arm. “Maybe we can all go out dancing. Dance the night away and not come back till dawn!” He winked at Mary. “I’m sure I can find another coworker who can lead you in a quick Charleston if you’d like.”

“Whew, any time!”

They shared a giggle and a hug before Esther and Starks went back to the car.

Outside, Ricky nodded. “Nice girl. Friendly.” He caught Esther’s eye. “But she’s a wild two-step, that one. I’m glad you’re more of a small, sweet cup of coffee.”

With a confused smile, Esther wrapped her mother’s scarf around her neck. “Odd compliment, but I’ll take it.”

He was just taking her hand to give it a squeeze when Esther was distracted by movement over his shoulder. The street was oddly empty. Except for a car accelerating towards the building. Ricky spun to face it as the motor’s roar reached him.

“Get inside.” He shoved her towards the steps. “Does it lock?”

Esther pulled on the handle. “It already is.”

Starks grit his teeth with a grunt. “Get into the alley. Hide behind anything sturdy that you can find and keep your head down. Don’t come out again until it’s quiet.” He watched as she ran and hid, then rushed to the back of the car. The button inside the trunk popped open the hidden shelf, revealing a machine gun. With only moments until the car would be in range to fire at him, he ducked behind the sidewalk-side tire.

Bullets riddled the street-side of the car. Glass broke into the seats, and more broke in the building’s first floor. Starks aimed over the hood, making the attacking bullets pause. But his gun jammed. With a curse, he dropped down to his knees. The bullets continued to fly as the car’s tires squealed and he dug around in his pockets. By the time he found his revolver, two men had jumped out. One kicked the gun out of Stark’s hand. A short fight broke out.

Despite it technically not being quiet yet, Esther risked a peek. One of the men was tall as a giant, broad shouldered, and with well-combed blond hair. He grabbed Ricky by the scruff of his neck to pull him to his feet, then pinned his arms behind him. The second, shorter and younger with dark hair, blew on his knuckles. With a grin, he landed a solid punch to Stark’s stomach. Esther almost cried out to see him double over, again and again, as the assault continued. A third man, with a lion’s mane of long blond hair, gave a whistle from his position in the car. He waved his hat before putting it back on his head. The long feather stuck into the band caught on the door.

To Esther’s horror, the two assailants dragged Ricky to their vehicle. It was still sputtering and chugging, ready to go whenever the feather-hat leader knew they were good. Stark’s limbs made one last effort to prevent the inevitable. The young man shoved them in one by one and shouted something. They sped off, creating a tidal wave in the muddy slush on the road.

Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

Nobody had screamed when the first-floor windows broke. But she knew the neighborhood would be buzzing soon enough.

Rushing to the sidewalk, Esther gave one hard look at the car. It was in rough shape. Not like she could operate it anyway. She took a second to orient herself. Then broke off into a sprint. She kept that morning’s map in her mind. Which blocks to turn at. Which ones to avoid, just in case.

The cold didn’t matter. Her running created a heat that kept her going. When she finally arrived at the townhome, she was sweating.

Wardlow had just arrived back with some of the men. “Esther! What’s wrong?” He caught her as her lungs gave out. “Catch your breath. There you go. What’s happened? Where’s Ricky?”

“Taken.” She swallowed a mouthful of air. “Three guys. Young guy. Tall and blond. And their leader with long blond hair.” She motioned a line beside her head. “Long feather in his hat.”

At Wardlow’s side, Spears and Joe hissed. Spears punctuated it with an extra growl. “Jericho. Bastard probably wanted to know what Starks overheard.”

Joe kneeled next to Esther. “The young guy. Dark hair?” When she nodded, he winced. “Whose side is Guevarra on? Just last month he had switched back to Friedman’s crew.”

“We can’t riddle that out right now.” Wardlow passed her shivering body to Joe. “Spears, behind the wheel. Sorry, boys, the day’s not done yet. Martin, check the hatches. Are we loaded? Good. I’m joining you on the hunt.” He turned back to the pair, brushing a sweaty lock off Esther’s forehead. “Honey, you’re gonna be alright. And so is Starks. You did good. Joe, get her inside to Anne before she catches cold. And watch the house for further backlash. This shouldn’t take long.”

The car was already speeding off before Wardlow’s door shut. The rushed growl of it raised Esther.

“The car! It’s back at the apartment. ‘Couldn’t drive it so I ran and…”

Joe hushed her, carrying her into the house. “It’s alright. We’ll send somebody for it.”

“It’s all shot up-“

“We’ll handle that too. Mrs. Anne, some hot water and some assistance, please.”

While the housekeeper and Joe hurried around to dote on Esther, she fought to remember every detail of the kidnapping. It somehow felt worse than if they’d just shot him in front of her. And now Wardlow was out there. Everyone was in danger.

“Hand that to me, dear. That’s it.” Mrs. Anne gently untangled the scarf from around Esther’s neck. “I’ll put it in your room.”

She could have tossed it into the fire for all Esther cared. In her mind, this was all her fault.

Joe watched the guilt rise on her face. “Listen to me. Nothing of this is because of you. It’s the game. It’s a rough game, and not every side plays fair. We’ll get ‘em. One way or another.” He patted her shoulder. When she mentioned the building windows he tutted. “Cargill will cover them. We’ll send someone around to check. If she doesn’t handle it, we’ll replace them. Don’t worry yourself anymore and get some rest.”

But she couldn’t. She refused to leave the front parlor, even when Joe tried to get her away from the windows. “They won’t come here,” she breathed. “They got what they wanted.”

It was the longest two hours of her life. Ares never left her side. He rested his snout over her shoes, only moving when Mrs. Anne covered her up with a blanket. Then he placed his head in her lap, calmly watching her while she petted his fur. In that time, her heart rate slowed down to a hesitant patter. Outside, it began to snow.

Mrs. Anne was just bringing another cup of tea when Joe burst into the room. “They brought him to the back door. He’s alive-”

She was off like a shot. When she arrived at the kitchen, Starks was lying across the center table. The sight stopped Esther in her tracks. His eyes weren’t open. His breathing was ragged. And, where his shirt had been cut open to survey the damage, his ribs were already spotting with deep purple and black bruises. His face didn’t appear to have any more damage to it besides a busted lip. Mr. Jim was holding up his left arm, observing a cut along his forearm.

“They threw him in the rubbish outside?” When he received confirmation, he nodded. “Nothing malicious as the rest of him. Just a cut from a bottle. Pass me the bandages.”

Spears noticed Esther first, and more from Joe’s entrance than her sudden appearance. He leaned down to Stark’s ear. “Look alive. Miss Garnier’s here.”

With a stunted groan, Starks opened his eyes. “Hey, mon cher. I’m glad you’re alright.”

She took half steps towards the table. “And I’m glad you’re mostly in one piece.”

Mr. Jim prodded at some of Stark’s ribs, making him shout. “Have to check to see if they’re broken. Hang tight.”

Esther offered her hand for him to do just that. He did his best not to break her fingers.

Finally, Mr. Jim nodded. “You’re one lucky sonava- ‘scuse me, Miss Garnier. He’s always been the luckiest man I’ve ever met. And tonight’s no different. Now where’s the rest of those bandages?”

The expression on Esther’s face didn’t agree with Mr. Jim’s observations. To her, Starks looked half-dead. To his detriment, that’s how he felt, but he slapped on a smile for her sake.

“Been in tougher scrapes than this, Doll.” He grinned, then winced as a bandage was wrapped around his forearm. “Might take me a minute to think of one, but I’ll get there.” When Esther managed to smile back, he gave her hand two weak but reassuring squeezes. They held the moment in silence as the kitchen bustled around them.

Wardlow eventually stepped close. Gently, he broke their hands apart. “We should really get you to a bed. Everyone ready to move?”

Starks was asleep before they were halfway up the stairs.

\\*//

Esther sat up with him most of the night. She saw to his bandages and kept a cool compress on his forehead to prevent fever. At first, Mrs. Anne had protested. In her opinion, someone needed to be sitting up with her too. But Esther persisted.

All night, she thought about the steps and the choices that had brought her here. She was out of the cold, making more money than she could have ever imagined, yes. But she had cowered from bullets twice now. Saw two people she cared about become victims of this way of life, losing one of them. She wouldn’t lose this one. Not tonight. The realization that she cared about Ricky, in this new budding way, rattled her lungs. And what of Wardlow? He had come back more haggard than Esther could imagine anyone looking. Did he consider this business worth it?

About midnight, a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Miss Garnier?” Wardlow poked in his head. His boyish grin made her return a smile. After quietly entering the room, he pulled up a chair. “Mrs. Anne will have my head if I let you sit up all night.”

“I won’t be able to forgive myself if I don’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you should.” Wardlow eased out a sigh. “You saved his life, you know?”

“After putting it in danger in the first place.”

He frowned. “You did no such thing. This… disagreement is older than your tenure here. If they hadn’t nabbed him while he was with you, they would have come to the house for him. Or would have done it downtown.” He leaned closer to her. “You got to us in the nick of time. You knew exactly which details to give us so we knew who had him. Jericho was waiting for us when we arrived at Jazzies. If you had tried to operate the car, or had hesitated in any way, it would have been a corpse they tossed out to us. But it wasn’t. He’s alive. And I know, when he wakes up, Ricky will thank you for it.”

She wasn’t sure when it started, but Esther reached up to wipe away her tears. “It’s not my fault.”

“No. Not in the slightest.” He offered her his handkerchief. “You’ve had a rough start in this life. Rougher than most. But you don’t have to stay in it.” The soft, almost brokenness of his voice startled her. “If you want out, I can see to it. I can move you anywhere you like. New York, Atlanta. Hell, I’ll set you up in London if you’d like.” He tried to flash her smile, but it was too heavy with unwillingness to stick. “Just say the word.”

Again, Esther took stock. Her nerves were shot. More danger for her and the crew was on the horizon. And more than anything she wanted to forget the whole thing. But then she looked at Ricky. She remembered how he had left his family for this life. His haggard breathing made her want to see him healed up. She looked at Wardlow. How much his eyes begged her to stay, despite what he’d said. And how kind he was trying to be for her.

“I can’t leave,” she finally said. “How can I? You boys need all the help you can get. Besides, I haven’t even had my first day on the job. Can’t quit what I haven’t started.”

Wardlow’s face lit up. “I’m- that is good to hear.” He took her hand, giving it two reassuring squeezes. “Now, you really must go to bed. Can you trust me to look after him till at least morning? You’ll be able to watch over him better if you’ve rested.”

The invalid in question seconded that idea with a loud snore.

Esther laughed into her hand to muffle it. “Alright. I trust you.” She squeezed his hand back as she stood. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She was asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow. And she didn’t wake up until Mrs. Anne brought her a breakfast tray the next morning.

\\***//

Chapter 3: Learning and Healing

[reality-detective]

NEW CANADA: A total of $20 million worth of gold and other high value goods have been stolen after being offloaded from an aircraft at Toronto Pearson International Airport, police say.

Peel Regional Police said the theft occurred on Monday after a "high-value container”"was stolen from a holding cargo facility after it was taken off a plane that landed at the airport. 🤔

"This is very rare," Inspector Stephen Duivesteyn said while announcing the theft. 

[bikepackinguk]

Day One Hundred and Nine

On we go for the final push!

The A2 is horrifically busy as I push through the evening, but I decide to keep firmly out of the traffic and slowly schlep along the pavement.

Not technically legal but I keep a low pace to avoid inconveniencing pedestrians, and even a few of them comment that they don't blame me for avoiding the road proper. I even ride alongside a few police vans who similarly turn a blind eye.

On through Chatham and Rochester, it's a busy Saturday night with plenty of revelry and carousing going on as I plod on through the streets and iver the River Medway.

Out the other side of Strood, the A2 converts from a suburban thoroughfare to a major dual carriageway. Fortunately there is a loop around through some back roads here to head along the trails beside the traffic.

I'm very glad I packed my bike lights as the route through the forested sections is pitch black, and out beside the road is little better. Though my front light has taken some water damage over the trip and is being pretty temperamental; I can only hope it manages to hold on through the night.

I maintain a slow and steady pace to carry on as if there are any obstructions or holes in the road then I won't see them until the last moment.

The dark trails lead on, periodically emerging into the light to navigate around a junction before sliding once more slipping back into the depths of night.

The trails finally begin to peel away from the A2 as the pavements join the A296 to lead in to Stone, where some navigating through the streets takes me up to the large junction at the Dartford Crossing.

Cycling isn't allowed through the tunnel nor over the bridge, but there is a free government-run service to take bicycles across. I follow the cycle trail round the junction and down to the waiting area, which has a dedicated phone line to call for a pickup.

I haven't even touched the phone when I'm greeted by a nearby worker for the Highways Agency and within the blink of an eye the bike is loaded onto the back of a van and securely tethered with bungee cords.

Onwards! I'm driven around the maintenance roads and down into the tunnel under the River Thames, accompanied by an escort of flashing warning lights from the agency vehicle ahead of us. Very swiftly it's over to the dropoff point north of The Thames and I'm back in Essex for the first time in over three months.

Time for the home stretch! Up along the paving past Lakeside Shopping Centre, I headnout from Grays and onto the A1013 as it heads along beside the more tradficked A13 to reach Stanford-le-Hope, before skirting around the edge of Basildon to get around the nastier parts of the A13.

Many of the street lights in the region are turned off in the quieter parts of night here, and the roads are again bathed in darkness which makes for very slow and careful progress.

There's a stiff climb up into Hadleigh, then some more cautious riding to lead down through Leigh-on-Sea to head back to the shoreline, where the street lighting is much improved.

A few climbs are surmounted around the cliffs by Leigh, before I roll down to pick up the cycle pathing at Westcliff-on-Sea and begin the last push eastwards.

It's on past some major locales of my childhood here, with the ride heading along Southend seafront and its famously long pier lit up over the water.

Past the arcades and amusement park, I roll on along the coast with the sound of the waves lapping the shore.

The Thames Estuary has long flat plains leading very far out, meaning the water can be over a mile away at low tides. I feel fortunate that my timing means the sea is present for the last few miles.

Around Gunners Park and through the twists of The Garrison, I head down to East Beach at Shoeburyness.

This is the very final piece of navigable coastline possible to reach on my long journey, and being the closest beach to where I grew up is one I have many memories of.

As I have done at many points along my journey, I head down and touch the sea one last time, before saddling up for the final furlong.

With perfect timing, my front light finally gives up the ghost as I hit the road at Shoebury, but even in the depths of night I know this stretch by heart.

Along the road and around the fields I head up and into Great Wakering, where I departed three and a half months ago, to be greeted by my lovely mama.

I'm done! Damn! I can still barely believe this incredible adventure is at an end. It'll sink in sooner or later I'm sure, but in the meantime I think I'll be getting some much needed downtime to recover from months spent on the road.

I'll be making a few summary posts in time, including stats for the journey, kit list, and others including the thanks owed to so many amazing dolk who have helped me along on this voyage.

In the meantime, I think I've earned a drink. In fact, several. I'm going to get drunk.

TTFN!

[crushedteeth]

Creepypasta fic WIP

(I’m not sure what direction I wanna take this in but the main gist is that it’s Toby’s pov joining the proxy gang and slowly losing his mind and fully becoming a killer. It might get a little introspective.)

About a week ago I burnt that house down with those bastards still inside. It doesn’t matter now, whether this is really what I wanted or not. All that matters is that I survived. That I escaped that wretched beast. I won’t ever go back. I wouldn’t go back not even if I knew Lyra was there waiting for me to get home, just like she would all those years ago when I would come home from school. Even if I wanted to.. the police were looking for me anyways.

It’s cold, not enough for it to snow but just enough that it’s clear autumn is ending. I walked, I hitchhiked, and rode buses all the way to Alabama. Once lush green trees lost all their leaves and it left the whole region looking dull and withered. I had finally stopped in some hick town. The roads lay dilapidated because the last time they’d been paved was when they were built.

At about 6 pm the sun was already down and I decided I should rest for the night because the next day I’d be traveling, as well as the next day, and the next day, and even the day after that. My life had just become one shitty road trip.

I walk into a filthy gas station restroom. It isn’t even attached to the main store and I had to make the embarrassing walk back out of the store and down the side of the building just to use those putrid bathrooms. I don’t even need to use the restroom. I just wanted to look in the mirror and pretend like nothing had changed at all. But things have changed. That’s apparent when I gaze up into the hazy smudged mirror to inspect the gash that now rests on the left side of my face. I’ve been shoddily covering it up with gauze and peeling medical tape. At first it upset me but now it doesn’t matter, I never felt it anyways. I never felt anything.

The gash is repellent, not just because it widened my mouth allowing view of my yellowed gnarly teeth, but because it was probably infected. It’s red and irritated creating the perfect spectacle of disreslish, and if anyone could see behind the gauze they shoot him an even worse expression than they already give.

I rub my eyes harshly until all I see is fuzzy grayness. I leave the restroom squashing a fat cockroach on the way out and I don’t even bother to gag or scrape my shoe off. I just don’t care anymore, about anything really, except surviving.

I realize that I’m walking with my head down so I look up. I stop for a moment, I look at those dreadful trees. They look ugly as ever, but just for a little I can pretend that I’m enjoying nature and maybe even the breeze if I could feel it.

I turn back to the gas station’s store. My eyes scan the posters plastered to the plexiglass, looking for any fleeting sense of amusement. I spot a flier for the town’s local bar which piques my interest. They never check ID’s in places like this and I could use a drink. I have 35 bucks left, I’ll probably only be able to afford a single crappy beer. A single crappy beer that will drain my minimal cash. Logically I should ditch the bar and find a motel, do something nice while the money lasts. But there’s a lot of things I don’t care about now and comfort is one of them.

There’s no sidewalks in the town and I stumble on roadside debris more than I’d like to admit but I make it to the bar after a crisp 5 minute walk. It’s not bustling but a familiar amount of people appear to be there. I imagine that they’re regulars and that most of them likely walk home because there are only two cars parked in the dirt lot.

As I walk up to the entrance I notice a man leaning against the bar’s wall. He’s a little over average height and he’s wearing a beige sort of jacket. He’s smoking a cigarette and two more burnt ends on the ground make me think the one he has in his mouth may not be his first. He doesn’t lift his head up or open his eyes to look at me but I still feel rude for staring and I look away quickly. I commit to my plan and waltz into the bar in a semi fluid motion.

Immediately eyes are on me, but as soon as they look at me they’re gone. No one in the bar seems to particularly care that they’ve clearly never seen me before so they go back to drinking and talking quietly.

All of the patrons are at various worn down tables scattered around the bar save for one man sitting directly at the bar. I sit two seats down from the man and I try not to look at him but I see his head turned towards me in my peripheral vision. He’s wearing a yellow hoodie and that’s just about all that I can tell from my limited view of him. He turns away and a tension lifts from my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there.

The bar’s staff doors swing open as a young woman walks out. Her hair is up in a bun and if I were to guess I’d say she’s probably the daughter of the owner. She makes her way towards me and asks me “Can I get you anything?” with a polite but disingenuous smile.

“Uh-a beer, please, cheapest kind you have”. I try to be as normal as possible, I try to sound like I’m actually allowed to be in here drinking beer. “Alright” she nods and turns around to the bar’s alcoholic supply and she begins to pour beer from a container that can’t be anything other than someone’s local craft. She swiftly turns back to me, placing the cup on the table.

“Holler if you need anything else” and then she’s off to attend to all the other likely more important customers. I look down into the amber liquid and I feel a little queasy, like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to. Well, I am, but I thought that being on my own for so long now would make me feel more independent. I’ve never felt more helpless and incompetent.

[pauldhillonpolice]

Paul Dhillon is a road safety expert with the Peel Regional Police, where he also works in recruiting.

[spockvarietyhour]

Inspectors of the Peel Regional Police examine in freezer in which the body of a woman was found Wednesday night 1987 [TPL Archives]

[isfeed]

Police release images of suspect vehicle after woman found shot in car in Mississauga

Police in Peel Region are asking for the public’s help to locate a vehicle after a woman was recently found shot inside a car in Mississauga. Source: CP24 Police release images of suspect vehicle after woman found shot in car in Mississauga

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A Toronto Police Service (TPS) constable has been charged after his gun was allegedly found at a crime scene following a firearm-related incident involving two suspects in Brampton last year. 

According to investigators, the incident occurred on Dec. 9, 2023, at approximately 3:37 a.m., near the intersection of Rutherford Road South and Clark Boulevard. Peel Regional Police revealed that one of the suspects brandished and discharged a gun, firing multiple rounds into a nearby business. [...]

Fortunately, there were no injuries reported. During the investigation, two firearms were recovered — one of which was allegedly registered to 51-year-old TPS Const. Frederick Teatero. The gun was never reported as missing or stolen. 

A search warrant was executed at the officer's Hamilton residence and resulted in the seizure of an overcapacity magazine and twenty registered firearms that were being "carelessly stored."  [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid

[datareviews]

‘Hornyprab’: Brampton man and Mississauga physiotherapist charged with online child luring

A Brampton man and registered physiotherapist in Mississauga is facing sexual and child luring charges in connection with an undercover investigation by Peel Regional Police.

Officers with the force’s Internet Child Exploitation Unit allege the man was using the online nickname “Hornyprab” when he was communicating with someone he believed to be under 16 years of age “for sexual purposes.”

Police say the communication occurred online between Jan. 31 and Feb. 8.

An arrest was made on Valentine’s Day.

Prabu Elangovan, 39, is charged with making sexually explicit material available to a child and three counts of child luring.

Elangovan is a registered physiotherapist and was most recently practicing at Lorne Park Integrated Health Clinic at 1150 Lorne Park Road. He was also a physiotherapist at True North Chiropractic at 115 Queen Street South in Streetsville.

For online safety, police are asking parents and guardians to place computers with internet access in an active area of your home and monitor their use. Don’t post personal photos or information about personal activities – including names of children and teachers – on social networking sites.

[bramptonlive]

‘Hornyprab’: Brampton man and Mississauga physiotherapist charged with online child luring

A Brampton man and registered physiotherapist in Mississauga is facing sexual and child luring charges in connection with an undercover investigation by Peel Regional Police.

Officers with the force’s Internet Child Exploitation Unit allege the man was using the online nickname “Hornyprab” when he was communicating with someone he believed to be under 16 years of age “for sexual purposes.”

Police say the communication occurred online between Jan. 31 and Feb. 8.

An arrest was made on Valentine’s Day.

Prabu Elangovan, 39, is charged with making sexually explicit material available to a child and three counts of child luring.

Elangovan is a registered physiotherapist and was most recently practicing at Lorne Park Integrated Health Clinic at 1150 Lorne Park Road. He was also a physiotherapist at True North Chiropractic at 115 Queen Street South in Streetsville.

For online safety, police are asking parents and guardians to place computers with internet access in an active area of your home and monitor their use. Don’t post personal photos or information about personal activities – including names of children and teachers – on social networking sites.

[24newspressblogs]

‘Hornyprab’: Brampton man and Mississauga physiotherapist charged with online child luring

According to the Ministry of the Attorney General, On December 9, 2021, the accused pleaded guilty to one count of Making sexual material available to person under 16 years of age. On that same date, the accused was sentenced to 90 days jail to be served intermittently in addition to 18 months probation. The remaining charges before the court were withdrawn on the same date.

A Brampton man and registered physiotherapist in Mississauga is facing sexual and child luring charges in connection with an undercover investigation by Peel Regional Police.

Officers with the force’s Internet Child Exploitation Unit allege the man was using the online nickname “Hornyprab” when he was communicating with someone he believed to be under 16 years of age “for sexual purposes.”

Police say the communication occurred online between Jan. 31 and Feb. 8.

An arrest was made on Valentine’s Day.

Prabu Elangovan, 39, is charged with making sexually explicit material available to a child and three counts of child luring.

Elangovan is a registered physiotherapist and was most recently practicing at Lorne Park Integrated Health Clinic at 1150 Lorne Park Road. He was also a physiotherapist at True North Chiropractic at 115 Queen Street South in Streetsville.

For online safety, police are asking parents and guardians to place computers with internet access in an active area of your home and monitor their use. Don’t post personal photos or information about personal activities – including names of children and teachers – on social networking sites.

[novumtimes]

Saskatchewan man wanted on nationwide warrant may be in GTA

Article content Police are warning that a wanted 47-year-old Saskatchewan man may be in the GTA and is believed to have access to firearms and other weapons. Article content The Peel Regional Police intimate partner violence unit issued the alert on Sunday afternoon, saying that Jagmohanjit Jheety is wanted on a nationwide warrant for several offences. “Detectives have reason to believe that…