fugitive

Weston's mom called me tonight at about 7.

"Go and lock your doors if they aren't already locked, then I'll tell you something."

She and Weston's dad live about 100 yards away from us. I was alone with the kids and his mom was alone, too.

My heart fluttered. I ran downstairs with Jiles on my hip and the phone still to my ear, locked all the doors and quick-stepped it back upstairs.

"Okay. They're locked. What's up?"

She told me this, more or less: One of the neighbors had called her and said that she and her husband had seen a sweatshirt on our dirt road on their way home this evening and they picked it up thinking that it might be one of ours. Then a little farther they saw sweatpants and sunglasses. Odd.

Then they found a note in one of the pockets. It said, "This is a hold-up. I have a gun..."

They called the police. They found out that there had been a robbery of a credit union about 40 minutes away from us at around 4:30 this afternoon.

Eek!

I got off of the phone. Spencer sensed something was up and we said a prayer for comfort and safety.

Weston's mom came over so that neither of us had to be alone. She showed me how to make cottage cheese and she read a book about frogs to Ezra.

Then our neighbor called. It was the robber's clothes and note. On our road. In the early evening sometime while the kids were out playing on the woodpile! He was trying to ditch the clothes that he was wearing so that he wouldn't be recognized. On OUR road!! How freaky is that? It totally gives me the freaky-chills.

Our neighbor told us that the police had caught him. He was about 45 minutes away (and with $2000).

PHEW!

I'm still keeping the doors locked.