Vine Street

By Michael Sanchez

The story is set in South Jersey, and it takes place in the summer of 1978. The story focuses on a ten-year-old boy who either is involved or witnesses events that take place in the summer of 1978 immediately after school is out for the summer. The story is innocent in nature but eventually takes a dark course that would have the main character running for his life, or at least it appears that way. Along with the main character are his friends, who will take part in this story that will have you laughing but also sitting at the edge of your seat, waiting for the next surprise to show up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546258445

Michael Sanchez

Michael Sanchez is the author of Vine Street (2018) and Somber Town (2020). His passion is to become a full-time writer of suspense, thriller, and horror. Michael has an MBA and BS in management and an AS in criminal justice. He also enjoys baseball, football, and physical fitness. Michael's inspiration is his mother, who pushed him to be his best self no matter the circumstances

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© 2018 Michael Sanchez. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  08/29/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5845-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5844-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

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.

CONTENTS

Vine Street

New Friends

Trouble Is Coming

Peter’s Bike

A Walk In The Park

The Groundskeeper

The Pine Barrens

The One Arm Bandit

Coming Into Terms

The Thief

The Payback

On The Way Back

The Boogeyman Cometh

FOR ALL THE KIDS WHO DARED TO DREAM!

VINE STREET

L iving in a small city in New Jersey in the 70s was an interesting time for a young boy, especially if you were a minority but when you’re 10 years old it really doesn’t matter. My concern back in those days was hanging out with my friends, especially the kids in the neighborhood. It was hard to keep friends back in those days. It always appeared that our family was moving from place-to-place almost periodically. It was confusing times but I did not question the reasoning for the moves, I guess it was the right thing to do at the time.

I lived in a family of seven, which included my mother, three boys (including me), and three girls. I was the oldest of the bunch, excluding my mother of course. It was tough because we were poor but we were happy and content because my mother always did her best to make sure we were fed, dressed, and most importantly, we got along and loved each other very much. There were personality issues but we were able to work around it, just like any other American family, I guess. Though we did not have much in reference to expensive toys or computer games back in those days, we substituted with imagination, and sure enough, we were never board.

One day my mother decided that it was time for a move, just when I was getting accustomed to living on Cedar Street located in South Jersey. I had plenty of friends who lived in the neighborhood, and I knew, at least I thought at the time that I would never see them again. The blizzard we encountered earlier in the year must have been too much for her, and so, my mother had chosen to reside in a big, three story house, painted yellow.

The house was located on the corner of 3rd and Vine Street. It looked like any other house in South Jersey, and I did not see anything special about the neighborhood, but as fate would have it, many things were about to change, at least in my eyes. It was the summer of 1978, and yet again, we were on the move. Hopefully for good. At least that’s what I wanted but I had no control of my mother’s decision making, and I was not going to challenge my mother on her decision to move out of Cedar Street.

Vine Street was just three blocks away but it felt like we were moving miles away, but the move went well, and to tell you the truth, it actually felt good to move into a three story house. More room to play, which is what the doctor ordered. And so, the day finished off well during the first day of summer, and hopefully, good things were yet to come, at least that’s what I was hoping for.

The year started out rather interesting with the biggest snow storm I have ever encountered, as I briefly bring into light what happen on the day of the storm that took over South Jersey, but the main focus is the summer of 1978, and the many adventures (good and bad) that made the summer of 1978 a memorable one.

It was 1978 and it started out with a bang, the wet, white, and icy kind. The blizzard of all blizzards that blanketed our small city with a vengeance, and there was not much you can do about it, but stare and glance at Mother Nature’s fury.

Of course this was the opportunity for kids to listen to the radio and wait for the magic number, announcing that school would be closed for the day. Listening to the radio during the winter months in Jersey became a must for kids anticipating the opportunity of enjoying the day off, as they ventured off into the white covered streets and sidewalks, blanketed by the snow that had fallen overnight.

The local radio station airing from the big city across the bridge was the station to listen too, and boy what a pleasure it was to listen to the announcers as they slowly and methodically gave out the school closing numbers. The anticipation would overwhelm me, as I would pace back-and-forth in my bedroom, waiting for the magic number to be announced, and then suddenly the announcer would slowly air the numbers on the radio air waves (5 5 9).

Those numbers gave the kids in South Jersey the pass to go out and enjoy the day. School was out, and it was our opportunity to explore the winter storm that just blanketed the streets, cars, and everything else it could touch.

Cedar Street was a narrow street with little room to get by. Parked cars could easily block both sides of the street with ease, and the blizzard of all blizzards was no exception as it easily blocked both sides of the street with 15 inches of snow. Some said 20 inches of snow and so on. Either way, it blocked the street. There was no way to get out, unless you were prepared to shovel snow for hours.

Having to shovel snow was no big deal. It gave me the opportunity to stay out in the cold elements for as long as I could without getting frostbitten by the snow that covered half of my body. I enjoyed it, but what I enjoyed more was shoveling, and adding mounds and mounds of snow in one area so I could explore, once I was done shoveling the area or to my mother’s satisfaction.

Little did I know that it would be the last time I would be able to enjoy playing out in the snow on Cedar Street, because my mother had other ideas that would have an effect on me, either positive or negative, depending on who’s point view. February 5 of 1978 would be a day I would remember for eternity, as the day that covered Cedar Street, and would keep it that way for a week, as the snow plows took forever to clear the streets of our small city, and made life miserable for its inhabitants.

Yes, it was fun while it lasted but it was quickly getting old, as I and many others looked forward to heading back to school and finishing the school season to prepare for the summer months. Winter quickly changed to spring, and soon enough, school would be over, as the anticipation of the summer season loomed in the minds of all who looked forward to the fun and excitement of the summer months waiting to be explored.

NEW FRIENDS

W ell here we were again in a new neighborhood trying to fit in, but it wasn’t too bad. There was a mom and pop grocery store just walking distance away from the house, and a familiar one at that. Apparently, this was the same grocery store I would walk three blocks from my old neighborhood, just to play five cent pinball games, and I was pretty good at it, until the owner got tired of seeing my face, and told me never to return to the store. I was barred from the store for a while, but the owner decided he had some use for me, and hired myself and my kid brother Israel (aka, Ish), to sweep, and clean-up around the store, which we really enjoyed.

The next couple of days during the first week of summer in our new neighborhood, I would look around and see what the neighborhood had to offer. At first, it did not appear to be a place where a kid would enjoy his or her recreational time, because of the cars parked on both sides of the street. The last thing any kid would want is for neighbors to complain to their parents that their child caused damage to their cars, because a baseball or football struck the hood or windshield, while playing in the street, which would seriously ruin your day. In any case, I did see that there were several kids living on both sides of the neighborhood, which quickly changed my point of view on how I felt about the move.

As I continued to explore my new surroundings, I noticed there was an old two story house in the middle of the block with all the lights