Grandmother Fran's ACCIDENTAL ARSONIST , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers - Moxham Boot Carol

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43 pages

English

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Description

Grandmother Fran's proper name is Frances Plum. She was born and raised in what was once a farm community, in Niagara County, New York. The house was a century-old Victorian. Frances, her grandson Mitchell, and Jerry (the bully) are the most significant stars of this story. There are many characters, however, that you will hear about but will not see, each one adding their own twist. Sometimes problems get so big that they must be addressed. Solutions that might seem easy are not. From pride of diversity, to bullying, to domestic violence, there will always be a better way. This story addresses the real world, on so many levels. Intrigue is constant. It will get the reader thinking and keep him/her wondering.

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	31 mai 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9789948373742
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	4 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0000€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Dedication
Grandmother Fran’s Accidental Arsonist is dedicated to my husband, Geoffrey Graham Boot, who urges me every single day to be true to myself, who looks into my eyes and sees through to my heart, and who encourages me to be me. Without him, this book might never have seen the light of day.
In Memoriam
My dad
Howard Wallace Moxham
1925–2014

Copyright Information
Copyright © Carol Moxham Boot (2019)
The right of Carol Moxham Boot be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her inaccordance with Federal Law No. (7) of UAE, Year 2002, Concerning Copyrights and Neighboring Rights.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, orotherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable tolegal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
ISBN 9789948373766 (Paperback)
ISBN 9789948373742 (e-book)
Application Number: MC-02-01-2185457
Age Classification: 13+
The age group that matches the content of the books has been classified according to the ageclassification system issued by the National Media Council.
Printer Name: Masar Printing & Publishing LLC
Printer Address: Dubai, UAE
First Published (2019)
AUSTIN MACAULEY PUBLISHERS FZE
Sharjah Publishing City
P.O Box [519201]
Sharjah, UAE
www.austinmacauley.ae
+971 655 95 202

Acknowledgments
Thank you, Brandon Hale, Brittany Hale, Cassidy Chapman, and Geoffrey Boot. Each one of you has been helpful to me with my second book. From letting me take snapshots of you to draw from, fielding middle-school-level questions, to practical editing, I am forever grateful. Thanks also to Niagara County Sheriff Deputies and the Miller Hose Volunteer Fire Company of Newfane, New York, for their talents, their teamwork, and profound dedication as first-responders.

Foreword
Carol Moxham was born on the 23rd of July 1949 in the old industrial town of Lockport, New York. She was the second of four children, born to Ruth Arlene Simon Moxham and Howard Wallace Moxham. Carol’s dad worked for Bell Telephone and also installed oil furnaces part-time.
Carol became engaged to marry at age 17. Her fiancé was 20. She was nearly expelled three months before graduation from high school. Not due to a poor grade average, but as a result of wedding plans. Ten days prior to receiving her diploma, she was to be wearing a wedding band. The school determined she was setting a bad example. Carol was considered a minor child by law. Written consent was required, and it was obtained.
Throughout Carol’s young life, she wanted most to please her mom. It took ages for Carol to digest that her mother’s approval mattered that much. It was hard for her to keep up with all that her mother criticized. Nothing was ever quite good enough in the end. There would be no show of love, and no direction. There would never be any help. Even on a good day, the atmosphere between them was completely unpredictable. Carol hoped for warm hugs and motherly guidance. But nothing materialized. When Carol was 37, she asked her mother to look square in her eyes and tell her that she loved her, and was proud of her. Her mother could not do it. Instead, she looked away and said, “You know I do” and “You know I am”. That visit was brief. In 1990, Carol remembers she mailed newspaper clippings, revealing articles with photos attached, about real estate business and city awards. Carol was a member of Lockport’s Rotary Club. The articles praised Carol and others. Thinking those newspaper articles might be fun for her mother to receive, was too much to hope for. Within days, her mother mailed them back to Carol, cut up in small deliberate pieces, like confetti.
Carol adored her mother and father in-law. But marriage to their son was a crowded one. It pained Carol to leave their family. She became feverishly determined not to let her children be raised without their paternal grandparents, aunts and uncles. What she decided was best for her children, was often interpreted as maternal desertion. Although, it was clearly not. Eventually, Carol recognized how destructive her own mother had been in her world, attempting to put a wrench in anything that made Carol happy. Anything at all! There would be many roadblocks. Far too many to count. Absolutely nothing on Carol’s journey was easy. And nothing ever would be.
By telling you this history, Carol barely skims the surface. She’s left countless incidents out, trying to tell just enough to help middle grade students and young adults know they are seriously not alone. Carol was a shy, cautious girl. She hid her worst fears inside her soul. She didn’t share because she didn’t want to look weak. Carol wants you to know that it’s okay to be careful. It’s alright to cry. And it’s okay to ask others for help. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of incredible strength. Every person has a BACKSTORY. It took Carol a long time to open up with hers. So long as you understand life is not a race, you’ll be fine.
Fast Forward to 2019:
Carol and her husband, Geoff, live in Lake Wylie, South Carolina. Geoffrey was born in Leicester, England, in 1944. Her husband will be applying for United States Citizenship this spring. Collectively, they boast 15 grandchildren.
Carol and her ex-husband are friends. He and his partner live in Lockport, NY. He is retired from General Motors. He is a loving grandfather and a good man. His exceptional parents have long passed on. Carol’s mother, now in her 90s, lives near her youngest son in Lockport. Carol’s father has also passed. He is honored in Memoriam in this book. He lives on as Grandmother Fran’s endearing cat, Howard W. (i.e. Howard Washington).
Every young person takes a journey unique to them. Carol hopes that we can all become wiser sooner. She hopes that if you’ve been bullied down, you’ll get right back up. She says everyone starts out a little naïve. She was. She hopes you won’t be too afraid to trust again, and often. But that if you are too afraid, know that your fear will end. That tomorrow may not be a better day, but it will be a new day. For every hurt she suffered throughout her life, she grew kinder and more resilient. She knows you will too.
Carol writes about the Plum family behaving well and supporting each other. She writes about the family unit she dreamed was right and good. Nevertheless, the arson fire and the horrors derived from this story were real. And Carol was one of the two women and a cat that lived through it.

Chapter One: A Welcome Diversion
It was that time of year, wet and chilly. Mitchell was thinking it was getting pretty cool and chilly on the inside too. Mother and Daddy weren’t talking. They were angry about everything, all the time. Maeda had a close friend whose parents were divorced. She was worried that might be the same track her mum and dad were on. She shared those fears with Mitchell. Mitch didn’t know if a divorce was in their future or not. That didn’t matter so much to him. He’d still love them just as much, and said he didn’t want to know. He wasn’t in denial, just confident that it wouldn’t happen. Anyway, they’d soon be spending more time at Gramma’s. Bus drivers were rescheduled. It was decided and done. Daddy would drop off their suitcases later. Grandmother’s house was going to be a welcomed diversion.
Gram catered to what each one wanted. Even if it was just a favorite meal for one, and an altogether different dish for the other. Making equal time for them both and still going so far as to tuck them in, even after she’d nudged them for more than an hour to go to bed. Gram saw through most of their tricks. They’d play along with her until she went downstairs while keeping all their media devices quiet, underneath the covers. Stealing a few more hours, messaging with friends.
Grandmother did her best to conceal how worrisome the situation was getting for her, too. That Mitch and Maeda’s parents felt it was better to send them away for a while than be honest with her and the children from day one, wondering if they knew Mitch and Maeda were starting to feel invisible, assuming that no one wanted them around, except Gram. Not so long ago, circumstances were a lot different. The whole family would come for dinner at least once a week, usually Sundays. There was always a great deal of laughter. And it was contagious. There were no secrets. Not until now. Grandmother’s patience was wearing thin. She didn’t want to pry. Or have the children feel any more uncomfortable than they already did. But she couldn’t fix a problem she didn’t know about. This was the first time she’d ever been left out of the loop. It was too unusual for words. Tonight though, she and the children were together. And so far as Grandmother and the children were concerned for the moment, everything was good.
When the children were a lot younger, they played in the attic, pretending to be shipwrecked pirates. These days, Maeda stayed buried in her journals. And Mitch preferred working on old toasters and laser printers. Puttering about, all by himself. It was important for him to figure out how things worked. Completely dismantling anything that had moving parts, then putting all the pieces back together. Occasionally inventing a new use for the original item. The more engrossed he’d get, the happier he was. Grandmother loved to see Mitchell fix things. She saved everything she could for him. Purposefully going to flea markets to find him more odd parts and outdated machines. Turning half the attic into a treasure trove, like with her old Electrolux-Upright. Mitch claimed it looked mo