The congruity of this remark was startling. It was perversely repeated with different words but the same malice in August 2013 after the shooting in Duncan, Oklahoma, of Christopher Lane, the baseball athlete from Melbourne, Australia.
Both thugs were apprehended and subsequently jailed.
These are the bare facts. I can only imagine the horror Susie experienced during the last moments of her life. As agile as she was, she couldn’t escape.
Chapter
3
Susie called me early in the morning on that fateful day to find out how we were doing after the snowstorm. She was getting ready to leave to teach at her Gyrotonic studio. We agreed that the snowstorm was over and that we could each attend to our daily routine.
“How’re Sarah and Danny?” I asked.
“School’s open and they’re getting themselves ready to leave in-between watching TV. Come to think of it, I always have to remind them to turn the TV off. They remember to do that about 50 percent of the time.”
“I know what you mean. They’re young and couldn’t care less about electricity costs.”
“How’s Rachel?” Susie asked.
“I guess she’s fine. I assume she’s off to work because I haven’t heard anything to the contrary.”
“Good. I’ll call her later,” Susie said.
Rachel called Susie while she was driving home from her fitness studio laden with bags of groceries from her weekly trip to the supermarket. Rachel later repeated to me what she remembered of the conversation with her mother.
“Mom was driving. First we talked about the snowstorm. We compared the differences we experienced for me in New York and Mom in St. Louis. She told me that although the snow had stopped, it was freezing, icy, and slippery. Many trees were uprooted. She was glad she didn’t lose power but knew that many people were without light and heat. She made me promise to be careful about watching out for icy patches so that I shouldn’t slip and fall.”
“Sounds just like your mom.”
“I know.”
“Then what did she say?”
“We talked about Daniel, and she told me something that we thought was so cute about him.”
“What was that?”
“He decided to get a haircut. She thought the only reason he would get one was that—at seventeen years old—he was in love. He was going to do it right after school.”
“He’s cute,” I said.
“Then Mom told him she thought it was a good idea to get a haircut because he was so handsome and that way she could see his whole face.”
“What did he say?”
“He said nothing, just blushed.”
“And what about Sarah?”
“Mom called her ‘a rip.’ A sixteen-year-old who thinks she’s thirty. I promised Mom I would talk to her and said that Sarah would be fine.”
“You’re right.”
“But Mom wondered whether she would really be fine,” Rachel said.
“Anything else?”
“Yes, I promised I would send her a new photo of me. She was noticing the pictures she had on the refrigerator. Sarah’s and Danny’s were recent, but mine wasn’t, and she wanted me to have a new photo taken. Then it happened.”
“I know.”
“It’s hard to talk about it, but Mom was just pulling into the driveway, about to get out of the car. She told me she was going to keep talking while she walked into the house from the garage and then empty her groceries. I heard her gasp and at first couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She actually did say, ‘What the hell’s going on here?’”
Chapter
4
Daniel returned home eager to show his mom his haircut. He trudged into the house through the garage, his heavy winter boots clomping on the floor as he entered. He heard the sound of the television set and remembered that he had forgotten to turn it off when he left for school that morning. Passing the laundry room on his way into the kitchen, he yelled, “Ma, I’m home.”
As he entered the kitchen, he experienced the greatest shock of his life—a shock that rendered him totally speechless and immobile. He saw his mother lying motionless and face down on the kitchen floor, blood oozing from her body and trickling toward the kitchen cabinets.
Daniel dropped to his knees. “Ma!” he screamed. But she didn’t move or speak and didn’t seem to be breathing. Somehow, Daniel managed to pull out the cell phone he was carrying. He called 911, then Alvin (his mother’s longtime partner), and finally, his father. While waiting for the EMT unit to arrive, Daniel lay on the floor next to his mother, stroking her, kissing her, speaking to her, and trying to rouse her.
The EMT unit and Alvin arrived at the same time. The EMTs suggested that Alvin and Daniel wait outside while they tended to Susie. Alvin put his arms around Daniel and they held each other in desperation as they stumbled outside through the bone-chilling air and into Alvin’s car. They sat together in stunned silence until Alvin managed to ask, “Do you know what happened?”
Daniel hesitated for a moment, and the only words he could utter were, “My mom’s not breathing.”
Suddenly, Daniel’s cell phone rang.
“Yes, Sarah.”
“Where’s Mom? I’m at my friend Laura’s house, and I’ve been trying to call her on her cell phone. It’s dead.”
“Sarah, I can’t talk now.”
“Why? Is something wrong? You sound weird.”
“Just stay where you are. I’ll come get you later.” He closed the phone. Daniel and Alvin huddled together to keep each other warm and to bolster their emotional strength.
They waited and waited in the car, both of them freezing and trembling at the thought of the horrific news they feared was only minutes away. Alvin managed to compose himself enough to initiate a chain of phone calls to our family in New York. First he called my husband, David. In clipped speech he said, “I can’t talk long. Something terrible has happened. I’m sitting in the car with Daniel.” Losing his composure, he screamed into the phone, “Susie’s been shot!”
David spat out the words, “Who? When? What?”
“Oh God, oh God! I don’t know! I’ll call you later when I have more information.”
David immediately made a conference call to me and our son, Eric, trying to remain as calm as possible. “There was an intrusion in Susie’s house. The EMT unit is working on her.”
“What happened?” I asked as an ominous feeling crept into my chest.
“I don’t know. All I know is that Alvin just called me with the information I just gave you.”
“Dad, maybe she’ll be all right. She has to be all right.”
Eric’s voice was barely audible, and both David and I knew he was crying though he was making a valiant effort to conceal it from us.
“From the sound of Alvin’s voice, I’m very worried,” David told us. David had always maintained a thoughtful, calm demeanor, but now his anxiety was clear. “Both of you, stick close to the phone. I’ll call you after I hear from Alvin again.”
David