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Our house on Bambi Lane was modestly sized.  No, our house was small.  Through the front door you would find a small living room with a window to your right looking out towards the street, and the park across it.  Beneath the window was a couch or a love-seat, I'm not sure which.  It was beige or white; it was nothing colorful anyway.  Past this there was a television on some sort of stand, with a VCR and a stereo.  I remember mom vacuuming while the stereo played some complacent, ordinary music, just loud enough to be heard over the electric motor's hum.  Somewhere on the stand, or maybe beside it on a bookshelf(was there a bookshelf?) there were two silver colored pyrite sculptures.  They were both very small and depicted miners.  One with carts full of some ore or stone, the other leading a pack-animal loaded down with the same.  In the back corner of the living room there was a coffee table, or end table, call it what you will, and on it was a phone and, I believe, a lamp.  In the back wall of the living room there was an opening, maybe five paces straight ahead from the front door, that lead to our kitchen.  If you were to pause in front of it, there would be the hall to your left.  Down this hall there were five doors.  Three on the right, two on the left, and it ended with shelves.  But forget those for now.  Stepping into the kitchen you would see in front of you first cabinets and then the stove along the wall to your left.  The counter turned at the corner and continued along the back wall of the house.  Somewhere near its midpoint was our sink, where you and I would wash dishes together.  Above the sink was a window into our back yard.  Through the window was a garden, then a fence.  I don't know what was past that fence.  Beside the sink was a drying rack, and below it a dishwasher?  I don't remember if there was a dishwasher or not.  The counter came to its terminus at a door which opened into our backyard, there wasn't much to see there but the garden, and maybe a sighting of our golden retriever, Brittany.  Past the door was another wall with another window.  Somewhere near this window there was a computer.  I remember a learning game, something to do with a large rabbit which knew math all the way up to his times tables.  Hanging from the ceiling was a fern.  There was always some new greenery in our kitchen, but the fern was a constant.  If you kept walking around the room you would bump into another counter.  This one was covered with a large heap of miscellanea.  Then another step forward was our table, room for four, five if you squeezed, and a small light hanging overhead.  I cannot place our refrigerator, but you were older so maybe you remember where it was.1

Back to the hall.  The first door on the right was a bathroom, a tub, a toilet, a sink, you know, the usual.  After this the hallway shifted a bit, there was an alcove on the right where our furnace stood.  I remember huddling around it after taking a bath, trying to warm up.  Why is it I don't feel cold after bathing now like I did back then?  Well anyway, the next door on the right was the sewing room.  It had-no wait.  It was your room too wasn't it?  Yes.  I think it was.  There was a bed in it.  It was always very cluttered.  I remember one day, trying to make a pair of blue shorts out of material mom had bought.  Tran would let me try anything...but mom wasn't too happy.  Let's just say they didn't turn out so well.  The next room on the right, I'll never forget.  It was my room.  Well, mine and Amber's, but mostly mine since she usually slept with mom, or did she have a crib?  I remember how I would jump from the top of our bunk-bed into piles of blankets.  What simple fun that was.  Do you remember the time I rolled off the bed, hit the floor, and didn't wake up until I smelled you and mom cooking breakfast?  That was funny, a bit strange, but funny.2

Across the hall from my room was mom's room.  It was the biggest room in the house.  She had a waterbed.  There was a bathroom in her room, well adjacent to it, but you know what I mean.  I don't really remember anything else about her room, must not have spent much time in there.3

Back down the hall, past the furnace, the other door-wait, the other door was outside.  Sorry about that.  Well back down the hall, through the living room, out the front, and on the side of the garage, there was another door.  This door just went into the garage, which was a mess.  I only just remembered it was outside because...well I don't know why, but I just remembered, one day, throwing those little white snaps at it, and leaving it all scuffed up.4

Our front yard was nice.  The lawn was green.  There was a mound, near the street, which we planted flowers all over.  Maybe it was for privacy?  I can't remember how big it was.  But do you remember, the day we were planting something, and I kept digging deeper and deeper because I wanted to get all the extra dirt out of the bottom of the hole?  Those were good times.  Our front yard has lots of good memories now that I think of it.  Blowing bubbles, play-picnics, yard sales, sprinklers...hoola-hoops and Frisbees.  I never could hoola-hoop right, but you could.  I guess you just had to be a girl to know how to do it at that age.5

That's about everything I can remember about our house.  Well, about the building anyways.6

*                       *                     *7

"What does any of this have to do with what you did?"8

"Vanessa, I have to tell you everything.  If I don't then you just won't be able to understand.  Trust me.  Okay?9

"..."10

"Please?"11

"Alright."12

"Thank you."13

"How long is this going to take?"14

"I don't know yet, not long though, an hour maybe"15

"Is there really that much to explain?"16

"You'll know when I've finished."17