Dr. Frank Einstein Read Online Free PDF

head.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
                                                    Chapter Seven
     
          Four children hiked a weekend hike in the local woods.   Spring had freed them from the four black and white television stations' winter grip.  Seven year old Sally was looking for a four leaf clover in an opening when she came across a pile of clothes. Only it was not a pile of clothes.
          She yelled and waved to the other three children, who came over to look at what Sally had found in the opening.  Then all four of them ran back separately to their houses.
     
          She wore a Jackie Kennedy hairdo. Almost all the house wives in the neighborhood did. She was talking on a green phone that was tied to the wall.
          It was always at the back of her mind that she should cling to her life routine, her lifestyle. How could anything change? Camelot? Even though the president was dead and dead for three years, nothing else evil could happened, could it?
         “Mom! Mom!” said her eleven year old son to her, “You gotta call the police.  There's a bloody dead boy in the woods.”
          “Honey, “she suggested to him," it could be a dead dear, they are bears, sometimes, not anymore.”
          “No, it's a little boy.”
          “O Holy Mother of God, I gotta go,” She said into the phone,” I gotta call the police.”  She pushed down the lever on the phone and spinned dial O, “Hello! Get me the police.  Police? My children found a dead boy.  I'm at twenty one Meadow Lane.  Okay, Okay.”
          Within fifteen minutes, two police officers were at the door.
          “Hi! My son will take you to the boy," She said.  The boy left his house and led the police to the body.   The body had bleed out.  The police officers could not count the stab wounds to the head.  Both officers had to take a few minutes to compose themselves.  One went back to the squad car to call the coroner and the State police detectives.
     
          The next Monday, two State police detectives appeared at Happy Hollow.
          “We need to look at the class pictures of the first or second grade.”  One of detectives asked a clerk from across the front office counter.  They looked through class pictures.  “Who is Miss Shinn, We need to talk to her.”
          “She's at lunch, I’ll go get her,” answered the clerk.  Within five minutes, a very young first year teacher appeared behind the co untered.  One officer introduced themselves to her.
          “Can you please identify this boy in the picture?”
          Miss Shinn looked at the picture, “It's Mark Dupree.  It's the boy on the radio.  Oh God they killed my student.” Two clerks came over to comfort the teacher as the detectives left the school.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
                                                       Chapter Eight
     
          She had scars of the beat generation.  Her father always said to her, “you was the first non nigger to smoke pot!   First it was poetry and pot then it was just pot and booze.”
          They lived what was not sold of the family farm.
          She sorted the laundry.  The sorting revealed blood on her son's pants.
          “Oh my God! Oh my God” She cried and then moaned at the sight.
          “What the hell are you whining about,” yelled her boyfriend at her bawling.
          “Tommy killed that little boy,”
          “I'm gonna killed that little prick!"
          “No! No!” She sobbed hysterically at him.
          The boyfriend kicked out the kitchen door, jumped in the backyard. It was almost a field that had an unpainted barn in the background. He ran toward