Main Street: A Gables and Gingerbread Story

By Mollie Lyon

Martha and Tom Sloan build a family and life on Main Street in a beautiful home in the early 1900s. Tom searches to better their way of life with expansion of his livery commerce into the new auto business. Life for Martha centers around her children, school, and neighborhood. One night they venture out to a new form of entertainment. They view a moving picture that fuels Toms sense of superiority and ignites a flame of hatred. Martha finds herself increasingly isolated as Toms actions bring that hatred to their front door.

A tragic accident on a stormy night emboldens Martha to fight against the hatred. Martha and Toms reactions to the aftermath of the accident provide a glimpse at worldly and godly sorrow.

A working woman's novel and a great choice for book clubs because the short story delves deep.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490842882

Mollie Lyon

Mollie started putting stories to paper by drawing in the margins of her mother’s cookbook. As soon as she could put letters into words and words into sentences Mollie wrote stories for her drawings. And soon the writing outshone the drawings. Mollie loved writing assignments throughout school and nursing school. Thirty two years of nursing--traveling the roads for home health--have built many stories in her mind. Researching local history led to her desire to write historical fiction. Mollie has been married for thirty two years. She lives with two adult daughters, two cats and a dog. She plans to write many more stories based on her experiences, family, and local history. You can read her blog at Miss Mollie’s Musings, missmolliesmusings.blogspot.com.

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Copyright © 2014 Mollie Lyon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-4287-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-4288-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014911526

WestBow Press rev. date: 07/14/2014

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Five Years Later

About Main Street

Chapter One

M artha Sloan’s hands clutched at her neck involuntarily, sensing the squeezing rope in her nightmare. She woke paralyzed. As she slowly regained movement, thoughts of the events leading to these night terrors trickled into her mind. The final scene, seared in her memory, never lost its grip, waiting in the shadows as she drifted into restless slumber. The tightening control invaded her dreams every night since the actual event ended the living nightmare.

Fifteen years before, Martha and her husband, Tom, moved into the five-gabled house with gingerbread gracing the high eaves. The white stately home, situated on a lush green lawn, dominated theMain highest point of Small borough. The business district bustled a mile down the hill. Only a few homes dotted this quiet end of Main Street.

Only one other home in the area rivaled the gable home in size. Built in the Italianate style, it was situated directly across the street from the white gable house. Close on the right side of the gable house, the Manse, a modest, yet respectable, two-story home stood by the large gray stone church. All sat on the plateau north of town.

Martha loved the property for its shady elms and maples, the gardens she had cultivated, and especially a little shed built to resemble the gable house. The shed provided a fine place to hang herbs and flowers.

Everything about the gable house was beautiful, from the high ceilings and airy bay windows, to the slanted corner ceilings, the sweeping stairway with its gleaming curved banister. The hardwood floors gleamed, unencumbered by heavy rugs at first. Outside, the porches from which they could observe traffic on Main Street on one and the sloping side lawns from the other.

Tom and Martha had been married five years before they moved into this mansion. Of course it was not technically a mansion, yet as one of the oldest and largest edifices in town, it created a special air.

Their move from an apartment above the livery business downtown fulfilled Tom and Martha’s newlywed dreams. Tom, and an able businessman, along with common sense Martha, saved enough money to buy their own home, away from the industry of downtown.

When Tom first proposed buying the property, Martha didn’t known how they would maintain such a large home, but a plentiful workforce in the early 1900’s enabled Tom to hire help with the yard and their own stables. Noisy auto-mobiles were still rare in Small borough in those days. As Tom’s business grew, the family expanded. His business savvy and success left no doubt of their ability to maintain this wonderful home.

The couple had not grown up in fine homes. Modest farm houses, befitting their families’ occupation of tilling the ground, comforted them as small children. The new home, in the sparsely populated, yet growing part of town, was not a working farm. This gabled home meant a step up from farm life. They were content with progression of their life, becoming respected citizens of Small.

Their son, Little Tommy, a fair-headed toddler, laughed in the long indoor expanse of hallway, as he ran straight through their new home before the furniture arrived. He had a large playroom off the kitchen where he could pull his train around. Martha and Tom took him outside, too, to play among the rhododendron bushes and to eat sandwiches and cookies on a blanket spread on the lawn.

Soon Tillie, a docile, dark-haired beauty was born. After that another girl joined the family: Olivia with golden ringlets like big brother Tommy’s. Their fourth child, Mark, with fiery red hair inherited from his father, proved the temper that goes with that trademark.

Martha’s mother moved in with her onset of widowhood, a few years after the Sloan family settled into their home. A simple, peaceful, praying woman, she quietly entered their lives. Martha gained strength from Mother’s presence.

As the children grew, they loved the upstairs with its large middle bedroom and huge bed for jumping—or so they thought, but Martha and Mother informed them otherwise. Once, the tribe of kids landed on the floor with the mattress bunched up around them. Apprehensively, they waited for their punishment, for they knew they couldn’t hide. How they wanted to scoot down the back stairs, but they couldn’t escape; the stairs dropped right into the kitchen.

Mother yelled up from the parlor, for she sat directly below them, and had been fussing about the jumping for some time. Martha and the hired girl, before this ignoring Mother’s complaints, abandoned their tasks in the kitchen when they heard the crash and Mother’s scream. Up the back stairs they clambered, catching the four miscreants in such a tussle that they laughed.

Martha declared it was time to flip the mattress anyways, and soon it was returned to the bed, where it belonged. The children sent to separate rooms to think an hour, solemnly watching a snow fall, weaving a thick blanket.

The sullen mood didn’t last past supper, as that thick snow inspired a sledding party. The neighbor kids appeared in their hats and mufflers, with sleds and toboggans in tow. The street beside their yard grew slick and became a sledding hill. Children piled high onto each other, sharing breakneck rides, their laughter reaching the bottom of the hill, far enough away from the creek to prove no danger.

Tom built a fire and soon children of all sizes bundled close