The Second Street Gang

By Stacie Anne Hopp Sway

When a shady traveling circus comes to a small town the past comes alive.  Four friends try to find the truth of what happened in their small town over 50 years ago.  Olive, Punk, Curley, and Dolly test their courage and their friendships to find the answers to mystery lasting over 3 generations.  Will their curiosity pay off in forgotten treasure or will they lose the treasure and their lives? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacie Anne Hopp Sway
• Release date: Feb 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781540162823

Stacie Anne Hopp Sway

I am a small town girl who loves to write.  I live in Northern Minnesota with my husband, two sons, 3 cats, and one dog.   I love the outdoors, photography, and rock n roll. I dig hanging out with my family and friends laughing, cooking, and eating. 

Book preview

Chapter One

Olive

With the flip of the plastic leaf on the alarm clock, time changed from 7:59 to 8:00, I was about to start the best day of my young life.  I sat there for a moment listening to the steady beat of the bass guitar of my favorite rock n roll song on the radio.  It was a sign today was going to be a great day.

Olive! Seriously it’s Saturday morning shut off the alarm.  Gwen grunted from lower bunk.

Gwen was usually in control of the alarm clock.  Sharing a room with an older sister was misery.  She was in charge of everything, clothes, occupation of the room, and worst of all, the phone.

Chill out Gwen, geesh.  I snapped back as I reached under my pillow to turn off the radio alarm.  I found my glasses put them on and untangled my legs from the blankets. I jumped down from my top bunk. I bounced off Gwen’s bottom bunk and hopped to the floor.   Normally I was not a get up and go kind of morning girl, but today was different.

I am gonna kill you.  Gwen said as I fumbled around in my dresser until I found some jean shorts and t-shirt. I slammed the drawer just show her I wasn’t afraid of her.  She grabbed her pillow and threw it at me as I ran out and slammed our bedroom door.

At the age of 13, my life was pretty smooth sailing.  The summer had been fantastic, sun, fun, and I had the three best friends a girl could ask for.  Punk, Dolly, and Curley and I had been inseparable for the last three months.  Nobody in the whole world had friends as great as mine. 

I yawned my way through the short walk to the bathroom.  The door squeaked as closed it behind me. The humidity was blowing in from the open window. It was going to be a hot and sticky day.  The sun was shining bright already, I watched as it danced on the leaves outside the bathroom window as I brushed my teeth.

I was staring out the window in a sleepy haze when something caught my ear.  I listened a little harder, than I heard it again.  It was the trumpet of an elephant.  I was sure I had lost my mind at first, but then I heard it again, this time followed by a lion’s roar.  It was like I had fallen asleep in Carlton, Minnesota and woke up in Africa.  They were here.  My long wait was over.  They had finally rolled into town during the night.  This was the weekend we had been waiting for.  It had been in the beginning of June when I first saw the posters that were stapled to every power poll in town.  Each one of us girls ripped one down to show the others. The flyers were poorly printed in black and white ink.  They had CIRCUS across the top and illustrations of a crocodile wearing a hat on one side and a clown on the other.    There was a small child running and smiling between them.  Honestly the flier was kind of weird but that weirdness also intrigued us.  What was this circus freak show all about?  We had to know. 

The Pop Pop and Rup Circus was going to be coming to town and setting up their tents, along with games and let’s not forget animals at the local baseball field in town.  It was also the hockey rink in the winter.  There was one tiny warming house with two outdoor rinks.  Well three rinks but only two had the boards built around them.  The third rink was just the baseball field flooded.

Lucky for me all of this just happened to be behind our house, it was the perfect place for the circus.  There was a baseball field with plenty of grazing room for all the animals and their cages. A giant dirt parking lot with a grassy area off to one side surrounded the front of the hockey shelter. The area would be plenty big to fit the food trucks, games, and travel trailers.  My imagination was running wild.     

I spit out the last of my toothpaste and picked up my clothes and got dressed.  The excitement was already pumping through my veins.  It was time to get back to reality and get this adventure started.

Mom! Mom!  Can you hear that? I asked as ran into the kitchen.  My mom was sitting at the kitchen table in her big green house coat enjoying the quiet morning before all of us kids woke up.  I reached for the phone, no time to waste, it was time to gather the troops.

Yes I can. I was surprised you slept this late with all the commotion going on out there. She said as she took another sip of her coffee.  What do you think you are doing? 

I have to call the girls.  We have to get going.  I don’t want to miss any action.  I answered.

You hang on there, Olive.  First of all, it is still too early in the morning to be calling all over the neighborhood. And second, I do not want you and your friends to go anywhere near that circus until it is officially open for business.  It is dangerous over there with all those strange people and wild animals. They need you to stay out of their way so they can get things ready for the weekend.  My mom stood there in her pink robe, staring at me with the kitchen towel over her shoulder holding a cup of coffee, waiting for me to answer her.

Do you hear me?  Stay away! she said sternly and with a look in her eye showing she meant business.

My mother was the definition of common sense.  I hung up the phone in frustration and decided I would have breakfast first.  I pouted as I walked to the cabinet and pulled out a box of Lucky Charms.  Then I sulked some more to fridge to get the milk.  I set the box of cereal and jug of milk on the table, grabbed a bowl, poured the cereal in it, and then covering it with milk.  As I sat at the kitchen table eating my Lucky Charms, thoughts of the circus ran through my head.

The sound of the front screen door pulled me from my daydream. I looked towards the door to see Punk bounding into the kitchen.  She had a glint in eye like she was full of fire and ready to go, but then again she looked like that most of the time.

Hey, man, what’s taking you so long to get started this morning?  Punk asked.

The first thing you have to remember about Punk is that she’s tough.  So tough that even boys were afraid of her.  Also, she’s as smart as a whip and that had gotten us out of trouble as fast as her toughness had gotten us into it. 

We looked pretty much the same, always in jean shorts and T-shirts, and we both had short brown hair.  The only difference was that I had glasses and she had freckles.  I hated my glasses and she hated her freckles.  Most people assumed we were sisters, and that was just fine with us, after all we felt like sisters.

Punk didn’t have a sister at home, it was just her mom, dad, and brother.  Neil, who was ten years older than she was, was pretty cool. He was what we called a motor head.  If he wasn’t working on cars he was sleeping. He had a 1969 Plymouth Barracuda fast back he was restoring.  It was black with hints of rust creeping around the body. It ran..., sometimes, not always.  Neil would let us sit in it every once in a while.  Once he even took us for a ride, it was so loud and so fast and in that moment we knew why he loved his car so much. It was absolutely exhilarating to feel the power of the engine in my chest. 

Sometimes if we begged hard enough and long enough, Neil would break down and hang out with us.  When he finally couldn’t take it anymore he would pull out the Monopoly game, we would sit at their kitchen table and try our hardest to beat him. 

Punk and I could never beat Neil, but he wouldn’t let us lose fast and easy either.  For hours we would sit there and he would nickel-and-dime us to death.  We would get so mad at him every time he tortured us, but we always came back for more.

Punk’s mom, Alva, stayed at home.  She always had the best home-baked goodies at her house.  Whatever you could imagine cookies, cakes, and my favorite, Scotcharoos. They were a souped-up Rice Krispie bar with a chocolate frosting melted on top.  Alva was always amazed that I would show up at their doorstep the moment she finished a batch.  It was as if I had a sixth sense and knew there was fresh pan waiting for me.

Punk and I shared many special bonds but I think the one that made us understand each other most was that both of our dads worked shift work.  Her dad, Bob, worked at a ceiling tile factory and my dad worked for a gas pipeline.  They both would get home at different hours of the day.  Working all night and sleep all day, or work in the afternoon and get home late at night.  Both seemed to be on edge most of the time, and a bit crabby since they never were really getting any good sleep.

We tried not to cause too many problems when they would work the midnight shift.  If you were going to get in trouble do it during the afternoon shift during the school year.  The logic behind that was when they were home you were at school and when you were home they were at work.  However, that didn’t always work out for us and everyone once in while trouble found us when my dad and Bob were working midnights. I thought Bob was much scarier than my dad.  Punk was convinced that my dad was the scarier of the two.  We agreed to disagree.

Hey keep it down.  I said.  My dad worked the midnight shift last night and just went to bed.  Do you want to wake him up? 

Hell, no. She whispered, "I have done that one too many times and I am afraid if I do it again he will actually kill me."

Punk slowly walked over to the table and sat down. 

Hurry up chow that down.  She said.  You know it is going to take forever to get Curley up and going.

I shoveled the rest of my cereal into my mouth, drank the milk at the bottom of the bowl, and was ready to go. 

Let’s rock ‘n’ roll, I said as I put my empty bowl in the sink.  I had heard that saying on TV from someone and it quickly became my new favorite thing to say. 

Do you have to keep saying that?  Punk said as I put my shoes on.

You’re just jealous that you didn’t hear it first. I said as I slipped my tennis shoes on my feet. I told my mom we were leaving and out the front door we went.  I could hear her going on about staying away from the circus as the door closed behind us.

It’s a cool saying.  I said as we trotted down the front steps of my house. 

Punk jumped on her red and black bmx bike.  Let’s just go get lazy bones out of bed.  She said. 

Let’s rock ‘n’ roll,  I said as I swung my leg over my glittery, royal blue banana seat and began to peddle.  My bike may have not been a bmx but is was awesome.  The entire bike was royal blue, even my tires.  When I hit my breaks and made skid marks, they were blue.  It was totally awesome. 

We took a short bike ride across the street to Curley’s house.  Her house was a tiny two story with a small yard.  It seemed like everything was small at Curley’s house, the garage was small, the living was small, the bathroom was small, and the deck was small.  Even the ceder shakes on the side of the house were small. It was like being in the inside of a real life doll house.

We dropped our bikes in the front yard and trotted up the stairs to the front door.  We quietly opened the door, peeked our head’s inside.  Curley’s mom, Meg, worked at a grocery store. Today she had an afternoon shift, so she was home this morning.  She was sitting in her favorite rocking chair enjoying some coffee while watching a morning news show. 

Come on in girls.  Curley’s still sleeping.  Meg said as she took a sip out of her mug. Brian, Curley’s dad, worked for the railroad, he was usually out of town most of the summer.

We went straight up the stairs to Curley’s room.  Outside of her room, her brother Scott was waiting for us with squirt a gun.  Punk was ahead of me and saw him first.  She just waved her fist at Scott and off he ran into his tiny room across the tiny hallway.  He knew better than to mess with Punk.  Scott was always causing trouble and always telling on us.  He drove us all crazy with his constant "Mooommmm, Curley’s doing this or Curley’s doing that", whining and tattling was favorite thing to do.   

We opened the door to Curley’s room and, of course, she was still sleeping.  Curley’s whole family liked to sleep late when they could.  It was the end of summer and she was taking advantage of every morning she could.

Maybe we should have just waited for Dolly at her house.  We could let Curley sleep for a while longer.  Punk said as we stood next to Curley’s bed.

Who knows when her dad is going to drop her off at home?  I said. 

As we stood there looking at Curley, so peaceful in her bed, we both got sly smirks on our faces.  We jumped up on her bed together and shouted, Time to get up!

We laughed and jumped up and down as she pulled her pillow over her head.

Get off of me!  Can’t a girl get some sleep around here?  Curley said in a sleepy voice.  Geez.

Not today, I said.  The circus is here.

You should hear it out there Curley, it’s crazy, you can actually hear elephants.  ELEPHANTS I say!  Punk added.

As Curley was grasping what we were saying, her big brown eyes widened and she sat up in bed. 

I can’t believe that I forgot about that.  I have to get dressed. 

Her brown curly hair was sticking up all over the place.  She had a pink headband that she wore every day.  Curley’s mom was in a home perm stage and Curley suffered for it.  She walked sleepily to her dresser,