sensed that Diane considered him a harmless country rube, a dumb old cop.
"Why don't you take it from the top? I guess we could start back on the nineteenth," he suggested. "That's Thursday." From time to time, their conversation was interrupted by nurses bringing more flowers and cards, by phone calls from out-of-town friends. To be strictly accurate, it was not a conversation at all; it was a monologue. Once Diane opened her mouth, she continued nonstop, seemingly without oxygen to sustain her, feeling relief, perhaps, at the catharsis.
Thursday. The last day. Diane had gotten up at 5:15, awakened the kids a half hour later, and delivered them to Willadene's house at 6:15. The girls would have breakfast there and then walk to school, while Danny stayed with his grandma. Diane had carried along a Bundt cake she'd made for the gang at the post office.
"We had the cake at break and all that, and then I got off at 3:30, but I hung around and talked to the guys for a while." Later, she had picked up the kids and visited with Willadene.
"Cheryl went out and cut me a couple of roses, and she cut one for Christie too."
I Usually, they ate at her folks' house, but Wes and Willadene I ^re going out. It had been just Diane and her kids for supper at home.
| Diane recalled that Cheryl had been begging for a kitten.
-lane told her she could have one, and she'd galloped happily to the neighbors to bring the cat and litter box home.
Diane said she'd talked on the phone after dinner to a girlfriend m Arizona. Then she'd remembered the clipping she'd found, the "ne about adopting a horse. Heather hadn't had a phone when
72 ANN RULE
Diane trained with her in Eugene so after she'd finished the dishes, she and the kids had driven out to the Plourds' trailer, leaving around 9:15. It wasn't full dark when they left Q Street. '
It turned out that Heather already had a horse. The kids had shrieked with delight as they ran back and forth from her car to the horse, feeding it grass, petting it.
"And then we left, and we went back out Sunderman Road, and, like I said, we like to just cruise around and see stuff. The kids love the scenery and the trees and they like to watch the rapids in the water at the river and stuff like that ... so we just went out cruising."
When she realized the kids had fallen asleep, Diane had
turned her car toward home, picking Old Mohawk Road on a whim.
"There was a guy standing in the road waving his arm. He was not like on the white line, but he was in the center of my lane. So I stopped and got out and asked him what was the problem. 'Cause it looked, you know . . . like he needed something. He was frantic! And so he came over to where I was and he said, 'I want your car,' and I said, 'You've got to be kidding!' I mean, how many people do that in real life?"
Welch opened his mouth to speak, but Diane was already
beyond him.
"They don't. And he pushed me back and he fired into my car so many times. My God. It was horrible, and my little girl raised up in the back seat ..."
"Which one was that?" Tracy darted a question into the stream of words.
"It's Christie . . . and she raised up and she had such a look of terror ... or confusion, or something. That's just a look I'll never forget, but I can't describe. And then she fell back on the seat and grabbed her chest. God! It was just so bad . . . and then he goes, 'I want your car,' and I was just aghast. I had to do something. So I faked throwing the keys to distract him ... I knew I couldn't beat him up in a fist fight, and he had a gun
anyway ... so I kicked him with my knee sort of and shoved him
... as he was swinging around when I threw the keys. He shot a couple of times and one of them caught me in the arm and it didn't even hurt."
Diane said she'd managed to shove the man aside, jump back in her car, put her key in the ignition, and drive off. She didn't know if the man had fired after her.
SMALL SACRIFICES 73
"Christie was laying in the back
"Why don't you take it from the top? I guess we could start back on the nineteenth," he suggested. "That's Thursday." From time to time, their conversation was interrupted by nurses bringing more flowers and cards, by phone calls from out-of-town friends. To be strictly accurate, it was not a conversation at all; it was a monologue. Once Diane opened her mouth, she continued nonstop, seemingly without oxygen to sustain her, feeling relief, perhaps, at the catharsis.
Thursday. The last day. Diane had gotten up at 5:15, awakened the kids a half hour later, and delivered them to Willadene's house at 6:15. The girls would have breakfast there and then walk to school, while Danny stayed with his grandma. Diane had carried along a Bundt cake she'd made for the gang at the post office.
"We had the cake at break and all that, and then I got off at 3:30, but I hung around and talked to the guys for a while." Later, she had picked up the kids and visited with Willadene.
"Cheryl went out and cut me a couple of roses, and she cut one for Christie too."
I Usually, they ate at her folks' house, but Wes and Willadene I ^re going out. It had been just Diane and her kids for supper at home.
| Diane recalled that Cheryl had been begging for a kitten.
-lane told her she could have one, and she'd galloped happily to the neighbors to bring the cat and litter box home.
Diane said she'd talked on the phone after dinner to a girlfriend m Arizona. Then she'd remembered the clipping she'd found, the "ne about adopting a horse. Heather hadn't had a phone when
72 ANN RULE
Diane trained with her in Eugene so after she'd finished the dishes, she and the kids had driven out to the Plourds' trailer, leaving around 9:15. It wasn't full dark when they left Q Street. '
It turned out that Heather already had a horse. The kids had shrieked with delight as they ran back and forth from her car to the horse, feeding it grass, petting it.
"And then we left, and we went back out Sunderman Road, and, like I said, we like to just cruise around and see stuff. The kids love the scenery and the trees and they like to watch the rapids in the water at the river and stuff like that ... so we just went out cruising."
When she realized the kids had fallen asleep, Diane had
turned her car toward home, picking Old Mohawk Road on a whim.
"There was a guy standing in the road waving his arm. He was not like on the white line, but he was in the center of my lane. So I stopped and got out and asked him what was the problem. 'Cause it looked, you know . . . like he needed something. He was frantic! And so he came over to where I was and he said, 'I want your car,' and I said, 'You've got to be kidding!' I mean, how many people do that in real life?"
Welch opened his mouth to speak, but Diane was already
beyond him.
"They don't. And he pushed me back and he fired into my car so many times. My God. It was horrible, and my little girl raised up in the back seat ..."
"Which one was that?" Tracy darted a question into the stream of words.
"It's Christie . . . and she raised up and she had such a look of terror ... or confusion, or something. That's just a look I'll never forget, but I can't describe. And then she fell back on the seat and grabbed her chest. God! It was just so bad . . . and then he goes, 'I want your car,' and I was just aghast. I had to do something. So I faked throwing the keys to distract him ... I knew I couldn't beat him up in a fist fight, and he had a gun
anyway ... so I kicked him with my knee sort of and shoved him
... as he was swinging around when I threw the keys. He shot a couple of times and one of them caught me in the arm and it didn't even hurt."
Diane said she'd managed to shove the man aside, jump back in her car, put her key in the ignition, and drive off. She didn't know if the man had fired after her.
SMALL SACRIFICES 73
"Christie was laying in the back
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