Elizabeth Bertelli loved springtime
in New York State, where she lived among pine-scented hills climbing toward the
Adirondack Mountains, as if to the heavens. Wearing a jacket over relaxed jeans
and a T-shirt, she stepped off the back porch to head out for her morning walk.
Having left her phone and all communication behind, she felt unencumbered by life’s
demands. She inhaled the country air, that even in April, caressed her face with
remnants of winter’s chill.
Usually, Liz (as everyone called
her) walked along the rural road with her friend, Rosa. But this
day, the singing
birds and golden daffodils drew her toward the meadow and woods beyond her
home. She thought of painting the scene. Although her art had sold and won
awards, it had been far too long since she had picked up a paintbrush.
Pulling her jacket tighter, Liz
wished she could leave her sorrows behind. Steve was gone and there was nothing
she could do about it. Even the rugged beauty of the area, where he enjoyed
hiking and fishing, could not keep him; nor could the rambling old farmhouse Steve’s
wealthy parents had given them as a wedding gift.
He and Liz were only in their teens
when she became pregnant with their twin sons. She gave birth to the boys at 15
and despite her youth, motherhood came as naturally as breathing. But marriage
to Steve always felt like a bad fit, as if she were struggling to walk with
tight shoes on the wrong feet. Still in her thirties, Liz felt unattractive and
alone.
She couldn’t go home to her
parents, since they had recently passed away. Liz recalled their anger when
they discovered her pregnancy. They pressured her to have an abortion or give
the baby up for adoption, rather than marry Steve.
We
don’t like him. He’s selfish and immature and we will not be saddled with his
responsibilities.
Liz dismissed their warnings. She
was the accident her parents had in their late forties, when they never wanted
children. She always felt like an intruder.
Steve
and I love each other, she yelled. I’m
not going to kill our baby and I won’t give it to strangers. If you try to make
me, I’ll run away and you’ll never know your grandchild.
Seeing Liz’s determination, her
parents relented and grudgingly accepted her pregnancy, but they never liked or
accepted Steve.
In those early days, he would run
his fingers through Liz’s flowing chocolate curls, compliment her golden-brown
eyes, accentuated by a hint of makeup and call her his curvaceous cutie. But
the chocolate curls had since been shorn and the warmth had faded from eyes
that now reflected only sadness. Liz still had her curves; however, they had
become a bit more rounded.
Toward the end of their marriage,
Steve would not let her forget that. His icy blue eyes would view her with
contempt, while his words stabbed at her heart. I wasted my youth on you. You’ve let yourself go. Look at you! I don’t
even want you anymore.
Liz’s anger simmered. What right does he have to criticize my
appearance? Steve’s no Adonis.
Though athletic and muscular when
they married, he had packed on the pounds over the years.
I
should have suspected something when he began exercising again and losing
weight.
Even though Steve was generous with
money after the divorce, Liz didn’t see how she could ever forgive him for his
cheating. Her mind raged at the memory. How
could I even think about him after he left me for that slut?
He and twenty-three-year-old Gloria
Hamilton had met at a business convention in the Daytona Beach, Florida, hotel where
she oversees social events. Steve had moved to Florida and they were now living
together in an oceanfront condominium.
It gave Liz some satisfaction to shed
her married name of Cavanaugh for her maiden name, recalling her Italian
heritage. Even though her twin sons would always be Cavanaughs, to Liz, the
name change was severing her connection to Steve for the way he had severed
their marriage vows. The boys also were gone, only they to pursue education,
careers and individual lives.
Liz’s heart always swelled with
pride when she thought of her tall, lean sons. She could see Steve in their faces,
but there was not a hint of his deceitful ways.
A recent law school graduate, Steve
Jr. (Stevie) had graduated summa cum laude—the youngest in his class. After the
prodigy breezed through his bar exam, he was quickly picked up by a law firm. Tony
(named after Liz’s father, Antonio) followed in his father’s footsteps as a
chef. He and his wife, Stephanie (Steph) managed a restaurant and had given Liz
her only grandchild, Ashley. Each of Liz’s sons held an equal place in her
heart.
However, the boys lived hundreds of
miles away in the Washington D.C. area. That seemed so far, especially after
Steve left. To Liz, that is how God seemed too, but also occupied with things
far more important than herself, much like her late father, usually out of
reach at the office or in front of the television.
When their sons were growing up,
Liz and Steve brought them to church whenever they could, especially on
Christmas and Easter. When her boys asked if she believed in God, Liz said “yes,”
but her mind was filled with doubt.
These days it was just Liz and
King, the young Rottweiler she had gotten for protection at the house, now too lonely
and creaky. Thinking of her affectionate pet, she had to smile. Despite his menacing
appearance and bark, Liz had often said if a burglar broke into the house, King
would probably lick rather than bite. Liz guessed he was less aggressive
because she had him neutered.
She looked toward the house, wondering
if she should go back for him. But he was sleeping after recent surgery to
correct elbow dysplasia, thankfully discovered early in his life. Deciding to
let him rest, she continued on her way, occasionally pausing to admire the
emerging grass and wildflowers, such as the dandelion-like coltsfoot and
clusters of bluets.
As the house grew distant and the
shadows of the woods began to creep over her, it struck Liz that in the twenty
years she lived there, she had never ventured into the forest alone. An uneasy
feeling invaded her thoughts—unseen eyes seemed to be watching.
Trying to put aside her fears, she continued
toward the forest, where tall trees swayed against an azure sky. Birds
fluttered among the branches, filling the air with their song.
At the edge of the woods, a cold
breeze swept in. Liz hesitated, thinking she heard rustling in the brush. In
spite of her misgivings, she pressed on.
I
can do this. I don’t need any man to protect me, she thought, stepping onto
the path Steve had kept clear.
Despite him being gone over a year,
the path was still free of overgrowth. It followed one of the many old and
often crumbling stone walls, winding through the woods of upstate New York. Most,
like the wall on Liz’s property, stood about waist high.
The
walls used to mark properties, she recalled Steve telling her in happier
times. The stones that have withstood centuries
of harsh winters and neglect, show the handiwork of old-time farmers.
Liz’s anger with Steve was never
far away.
He’s
probably cooking for his bimbo like he did for the boys and me; she fumed,
wishing she could bash him over the head—or somewhere else—with one of those
stones. This would also be for the wandering eye he had throughout their
marriage, as well as his affinity for material Liz considered pornographic. She
had confronted him about it, but he dismissed her concerns.
Photography
and videos are just art forms. As an artist, you of all people should know
that.
I
hope your pornography’s enough for you, because that’s all you’re gonna get, Liz
snarled, stomping out of the room.
Things were never the same for her
after that. Good riddance to him!
Liz forced her thoughts back to the
sights and sounds of the forest. She realized something had changed. The forest
was quiet … too quiet. The wind had stilled. Birds were no longer singing. Liz
paused, her eyes darting one way, then another. As a cloud moved over the sun,
a sense of danger crept over the landscape.
Suddenly, a snapping twig shattered
the stillness and a flock of birds launched into the sky, their chirping and
flapping wings fading away. Then, a growl seemed to shake the ground beneath
Liz.
She froze, almost afraid to
breathe. Is this how it’s going to end
for me?
Fear tingled up and down Liz’s
spine as her eyes drifted to a clearing, where a black bear was sniffing
She saw two cubs, partly concealed
by brush. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Steve’s warnings screamed across
her mind. Bears have a keen sense of smell.
If you see one, don’t try to run away. Back away slowly. Yell at the bear. Firmly
tell it to leave. Get out of here! Especially beware of a mother bear with cubs.
Then, in one horrible moment, the
bear charged in her direction. In a blind panic Liz also ran, forgetting
everything Steve had told her. Though the episode lasted scarcely a minute, time
seemed to move in slow motion.
Zigzagging between the trees, she
hoped to lose or confuse the bear. However, she could hear it closing in,
snapping branches, crunching on the forest floor.
Without thinking, Liz glanced
briefly over her shoulder, taking her eyes from the path. In that instant, she
tripped on an exposed root and fell, striking her head against the stone wall.
Immediately, the bear was over her.
Liz could hear it sniffing and feel its breath, which despite her racing heart
and an engulfing dizziness, overwhelmed her with the stench of rotting garbage.
A squealing from one of the cubs
sounded in the distance.
While drifting into unconsciousness
Liz remembered the Lord’s Prayer from childhood. “Our Father in heaven, Hallowed be your name.” (Matthew 6:9, NIV).
It seemed like only a minute or two
later, she opened her eyes to see the stone wall beside her.
Her head throbbing, she realized
she must have been face down in the dirt, because she could taste the grit in
her mouth. At first she lay still, fearing the bear was nearby.
Maybe
it’s best to play dead.
After a while, she gathered the courage
to look around, relieved the bear was nowhere in sight. As the world came into
focus, Liz saw the sun was bright in the sky, as if it were approaching the
middle of the day.
I
wonder how long I’ve been here.
Clutching her head, she felt blood
in her hair. Then, balancing herself against the wall, she struggled to her
feet, spitting out the dirt. As she stood, intermittently taking deep breaths and
spewing more dirt, she caught a glimpse of a shiny object wedged between two
stones in the wall.
Despite her heart pounding in her temples, she reached for the object and discovering it stuck, pulled it free. A tarnished silver locket and chain was soon in her hand. But consumed with pain and terrified the bear might still be near, she shoved the find into her pocket and stumbled home.
What will happen to Liz? Find out more in Love's Sweetest Revenge, published by MillerWords and available on Amazon.
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