Memoirs- Jeanette Eisele - Part 2.

As I glanced back at her lifless body, one last time I saw my dad crying as he leaned to her cheek. I pushed through the wooden swinging doors and burst into the most painful deep sobbing i'd ever experianced. Even the large farmers arms of the cornor were somewhat helpful as he tried to console me. At least he kept me from falling, as any strength i had as of now was gone, along with her soul.

I walked slowly out of the odd smelling funeral home, and down the concrete path to the little blue VW Beetle we had bought my mom after the tornado destroyed her Sentra (it was so old and oxidized, we never understood her emotional connection to it) and at the time, I had a yellow VW Beetle and she always liked mine, so we got her one. It was now my dads to drive... a six foot 6 tall bald man... it WAS pretty funny.... at least it was somethign to smile about. I sat in the car, with the door open, staring into the sun waiting for something to happen to wake me up from this horrible dream and she'd be standing there laughing like some sick April Fools Day joke "ha ha gotcha"... but it didn't. I heard the door slam and it was my dad. His head was down, eyes gazed into the steps he was taking and the cracks on the concrete before his giant feet. He opened the car door and sat down slowly.

"We need to go and talk to Sharon" he said, without any emotion at all. So off to the house we headed. The drive up the way was longer than it had ever been. The gravel crunched under the tires and the once beautiful house, now torn apart from the tornado that hit only months prior was there, unfolding as if in some horror movie.

She was standing next to her squad car, arms crossed, puffy eyes yet no tears. Sharon was always a good friend of our family, she was a lesbian so of course people around town had to treat her like crap because that's what back woods idiots do to people who are a little different or things they dont understand. I began to walk into the house, I had to get 'bobby'- my mom's favorite bird. Sharon stopped me quickly telling me... i didn't want to see it. I assured her, I did. She walked with me to the living room, where my mom had laid the padding from a lawn chair over a sofa to keep any blood from ruining the sofa (because you had to know her, god forbid she leave a mess for us... ina house that was already torn up by a tornado)

"No Blood?" I asked with the most amazed look on my face. "no, not one drop my dear' Sharon replied with her solid arm around me. I asked her to explain to me how she was laying and she did. On the west end was her head, at her feet a picture of Jesus Christ, which explained why she was smiling when i saw her for the last time. On the floor were two bowls of water. One with dish soap, one with clean water. Again with the mess thing. After we took Bobby out of the house I asked to be alone in the room. Adam was there, and that was fine. I sat down quietly on the sofa I wanted to feel what she felt see what she saw- I knew she kept her 'stash' of green material somewhere close and the last thing i wanted was the sheriff to find it upon their secondary search- she didn't need to be rumored a pot smoker on top of a suicidal. I looked around, asked aloud 'if i were here, where would i have hidden it'.... i reached up under the botton of a side table, pushed the drawer backwards and it landed in my hand. I began to cry.

Adam was standing to my right, beside the couch and reached for my shoulder in condolence. About that time i heard something solid hit the ground and roll. The look on his face was of shock, and he was somewhat pale in the face. "what was that" i asked. "Uh" he stammered "i'm not sure you need to know Bambi" In my head, i kept asking - WHY does everyoen assume i dont need to know, ASSUME i shouldn't see, ASSUME i shouldn't be told- I stood up quickly to discover why he didn't want me to see it.

There on the floor, about two feet from my foot was the slug that the cops were unable to find during the original walk through of the scene. It was a small one, i picked it up and with horror on my face realized the white piece of substance on the end of it wasn't part of the bullet, but part of my mom's bone. I quickly placed it in a plastic bag, and put it in my pocket. Not long after that, I realized i hadn't even asked for a note. I stepped outside to ask Sharon and she had told me the Sheriff had taken it, along with the weapon for further examination and it would be weeks before they would get it back to us.

Here i stand, silently hiding the bullet they thought was in the sofa because it was a through and through shot to her chest, yet no sign of it entering the fabric of the place she was laying. Apparently in the 'law' world, this was odd. It was also said the weapon was set to automatic rounds- but jammed on one shot.

To be Continued...............