Wilbur Avenue: A Story in the World of PRESSED PENNIES

By Stephen Manchester

As children, Rick Giles and Abby Gerwitz planted romantic seeds that would unexpectedly blossom later in their lives a story told in the novel Pressed Pennies. In this novelette featuring the characters from Pressed Pennies, after a magical summer Abby and the neighborhood gang receive some very bad news. Richard s dad has accepted a new job and the Giles family is moving away. Abby is devastated because she s losing the person who might be more important to her at this stage in her life than anyone else. As a final gift to Richard s friends, Jim Giles takes the kids to Lincoln Park, an amusement park that hosts a day of unforgettable memories. The experiences they share there will resonate deep into their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiction Studio Books
• Release date: Jun 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781936558773

Book preview

Wilbur Avenue

a novelette in the world of Pressed Pennies by

Steven Manchester

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Studio Digital CT, LLC

P.O. Box 4331

Stamford, CT 06907

Copyright © 2014 by Steven Manchester

Jacket design by Barbara Aronica Buck

Fiction Studio Books e-book ISBN-13 978-1-936558-77-3

Visit our website at www.TheStoryPlant.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, except as provided by US Copyright Law. For information, address Studio Digital CT.

First Edition: August 2014

Chapter 1

Spring 1978

At daybreak, steam rose from a ground fresh with dew. Birds chirped, the wind sang in the trees and for a moment there was silence—a new start filled with hope.

While a single dog’s bark warned those still sleeping, lights from a milkman’s truck rumbled up Wilbur Avenue. Warm blankets were pulled tightly under chins to ward off the dawn. A moment later, footsteps and the clank of glass bottles offered the day’s first greeting.

Abby threw off the bed covers and stepped up to the window. A robin red breast had landed between her and Richard’s houses to search out the season’s first breakfast. Smiling, she hurried to get dressed. Another New England winter had come to an end, and the first day of April vacation had finally arrived.

Amidst the distinct smells of decaying leaves and wet earth—a reminder that the world was coming to life again—and the sweet aromas of pancakes and coffee, one car after another pulled out of its respective driveway—dads off to work to put food on tables and shoes on feet.

Richard waited until Abby’s dad’s Plymouth Duster was completely out of sight before he headed over. As Abby waited for her best friend, she sat in her porch swing and sucked in a lung full of air. She loved that swing—the creak of the chain, the slow easy ride. It’s like sitting in Mama’s lap, she thought. And according to her mother, the swing was their confessional, where they could open their hearts and tell all—good or bad. Abby pumped her legs once and took in the quiet surroundings.

Before she knew it, Richard was standing in front of her, grinning. She matched his smile. After a frigid season of waiting, the world was all theirs again—that is until the streetlights came on and it was time to go in for supper. Abby stood, looked into his eyes and cleared her throat. Sorry about all that racket last night, she said.

Richard waved off her apology. It’s okay, Ab. You can’t help how your dad acts. Everybody knows that. For a brief moment, he rested his hand on her shoulder. It’s not your fault, so stop apologizing.

Abby nodded and began to breathe again. Richard’s an amazing friend, she thought. Since they’d met in first grade, she’d trusted him completely. This wasn’t something that needed to be earned. Rather, it was a given from day one and he’d never once made her regret it. Besides her ma, Richard was the only person in the world with whom she felt comfortable enough to tell anything. He’s never judged me. And since the first grade—when he’d saved her from the wrath of a hissing squirrel—they were inseparable.

Richard smashed the awkwardness to pieces. What do you say we get our bikes and wake up the rest of the gang? he asked, excited.

Abby nodded. I’ll race you, she said and took off running.

Richard chuckled and sprinted for his own garage.

~~~

Dressed in last year’s clothes—windbreaker jackets and dirt-stained sneakers—their pale faces beamed. The neighborhood was alive and finally waking from its hibernation. Though there was still sand on the side of the road, all but the final remnants of black snow had disappeared. Abby gazed upward to feel the sun’s warm hands grab her face and hold it tight.

Abby and Richard’s first stop was at Tracy Martel’s house located directly across the street. As they approached on their bicycles, Abby waved. Tracy was already waiting, seated on the new purple bike she’d gotten for Christmas—and looking anxious.

Abby chuckled. Tracy must worry more than anyone else in the whole world, she thought. Her friend was overly sensitive and lived in a state of constant fear. She really needs to just chill out.

Richard and Abby slowed down, but never actually stopped. Within seconds, the three rode abreast down Wilbur Avenue—Tracy frantic in her attempt to stay aligned.

Vinny Bono’s house was the next stop. Wilbur Avenue was divided by a sharp curve in the middle and Vinny lived on the other side of that bend. It was a plain, one-story ranch with all the character of a mud hut.

With Abby by his side, Richard knocked on the front door. A moment later, the kitchen light came on and Vinny stuck his head out. Ready to ride? asked Richard.

Vinny gestured for his friend to be quiet, stepped out onto the stoop and slowly closed the door behind him. Abby chuckled. Vinny’s so goofy, she thought. Everything about Vinny spelled drama. He was a constant debater, a true devil’s advocate, but he was also a coward—which made him tolerable. Each one of his snooty insults and meaningless arguments were easily remedied by the simple threat of physical violence.

Keep it down, whispered Vinny, My parents don’t get to sleep in too often. They’d have my neck if…

Richard grabbed Abby and headed back to Tracy and their parked bikes. Sure, Einstein, he said. If you’re hungry or want me to beat you up, meet us back at my house. Grandma’s already got the bacon on and… he grinned, …it’s been awhile since I’ve slapped you around.

The last stop was a little Cape at the end of the street. From the welcome sign and lawn ornaments in front to the tree fort out back, it was the perfect picture of happy, middle class America. Anyone who lived within twenty miles of Wilbur Avenue and wasn’t in a coma, however, knew better. It was only a picture. When the world was watching, the Wright family smiled and waved as if they were marching in some invisible parade. But when the front door slammed closed, the sharpest, most disturbing arguments spilled from behind heavily insulated walls. At the Wright house, it was war.

Young Grant Wright was waiting for the gang. Liquid blue eyes, jet-black hair, a dimpled chin and two perfect rows of white teeth made most girls in town want to claim him as their own. Grant’s smile, however, didn’t have the same effect on Abby. She’d been around him long enough to catch a glimpse of his insides and they weren’t pretty. Grant’s a big jerk…and he makes me sick.

Hi, beautiful, Grant said to Abby.

Hi, sexy, Richard answered, while Abby chose not to reply.

The gang laughed.

You guys eat? asked Grant, and then pointed toward his mother who was standing behind the screen door. My mom says she’ll…

Richard’s grandma has already started making us breakfast, said Tracy. It would be rude if we didn’t get over there right away.

Blah, blah, blah, Grant said. Whatever. Shaking his head, he took off toward the back of the house to grab his bike. His mom waved once before closing the door.

As they pedaled toward breakfast, Richard turned to Grant. Where’s your dad been? he asked. We haven’t seen him…

He’s been working a lot, Grant quickly interrupted, his face blushing. With a shrug, he stood up on his pedals and pumped hard, pulling away from the gang. Each of them took chase, hooting and hollering all the way down Wilbur Avenue.

~~~

Abby loved to hang out at Richard’s house. It’s the coolest place on earth, she thought. Richard’s mom had passed away in a tragic car accident when he was younger and his father and grandmother were raising him.