Chapter 5

A few days later, it was Friday, and it would be the first day I was allowed to go out. My mother didn’t say where we were going; although the two nice policemen with us seemed to know. We stopped at Nordstrom’s and went through the dress department; the two policemen trying hard to look invisible but not doing it very well. I was told to buy a dress, a nice dress. I did, finally, picking a dark-colored, blueish-purple dress of nice cotton knit. It clung rather well, I thought, to what little figure I had, but other than that, was reasonably demure.

We bought some undergarments, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in a salon having my hair cut. I told them just a little trim, nothing else; and when they finished, I had to admit I looked more like my old self. New shoes were next; I began to worry what was in store. I was right.

We had lunch in one of the mall delis, and afterwards, Mom produced a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Brush.” More embarrassing than brushing was having my mother go in the women’s room, to make sure it was empty, then having two men waiting outside so no one else could come in while we took care of business. Coach Murray was right: this was no way to live.

We drove downtown, went into a building I recognized as City Hall, and parked in a parking spot labeled, “VIP PARKING ONLY.” I frowned. Just what I needed! Not!

We were met by some flunkies, then whisked upstairs. I sat on a leather chair, waiting for whomever it was we were to see. Whomever; there were two of them. The governor and the mayor both. Just before we were to march in, I spoke to my mother.

“I would have come without a fuss,” I told her, looking her in the eye. “I wouldn’t have liked it, but I understand. Don’t lie to me again.”

“I didn’t lie,” my mom said bluntly. “I just didn’t tell you everything. You’re still just a girl, Karen. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“The next time you decide not to tell me everything, look out for unexpected results,” I told her firmly; then went into the office, trying not to show the anger I really felt.

I accepted a large, flashy medal I didn’t deserve for bravery I’d never felt, and when the governor of our state asked me for a few words, I obliged.

“I don’t deserve this,” I said without preamble, “but I am accepting it on behalf of people who aren’t here. Katherine Diamond; four police officers I never met, and whom no one has seen fit to burden me with their names. To all of the other people who live normal lives, never wanting to hurt anyone else. On their behalf, thank you.”