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From Elizabeth to Beth
By Beagle 9690
October 2006

I am a Correction Officer assigned to a maximum-security prison of some notoriety in Western New York. I have lived alone since my wife passed away five years ago. The term insurance that I carried on my wife paid off all debt, and added to my net worth. It did nothing to console my loneliness.

My house is a large three-story brick farmhouse. Stately and mature black walnut trees surround it. I also had a large stands of oak and hard maple trees 400 yards behind the house. These are the predominate trees on my property. My trees afford me shade and privacy. I have two barns as well as a two-car garage. My nearest neighbor's live a mile or so away. I decided to convert the third floor of my house into a three-room apartment with a kitchen and full bath.

I am quite handy with my hands, learning carpentry, electrical and plumbing early in life, doing most of the work myself. Soon the apartment was ready to rent. I posted a yellow file card on the bulletin board stating by appointment only. As it turned out, I rented to the first person I interviewed.

Her name was Elizabeth Adamczyk, a new employee. Beth just started working a week prior as a secretary in the Personnel Office. My yellow file card was probably up for less then an hour. Elizabeth read it and put it in her purse to keep away prospective renters, thank God.

Elizabeth left work early that day and drove to my house. Beth actually arrived an hour before I did giving her the opportunity to really look things over. I could see an old beat-up red Ford sedan parked by the garage when I pulled into my driveway.

Elizabeth was standing outside on that beautiful fall day waiting to see the apartment. While waiting, Beth had gathered a bouquet of colorful fall leaves. In this Elizabeth reminded me so much of my Bea. Bea delighted in these simple pleasures as I loved and delighted in her. So much of me died along with Bea, things I used to care about or notice. I forgot how beautiful the individual leaves were, seeing merely a mess to rake up. And I remembered how good my black walnuts tasted roasted hot out of the shell, or in Bea's turkey dressing.

That day I noticed the fall foliage was at its peak. The leaves on the trees were vibrant and proud. Displaying their rich shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. Overshadowing the pensive green of the few remaining stubborn leaves in the background. Those green leaves afraid to change and move on. Such was I then. Pensive and melancholy since my beautiful Bea...my wife Beatrice died.

The official paper work describing Elizabeth Adamczyk, contained in her impersonal personnel file. Race: white, gender: female, age: 35, Height: 5'-6 *quot;, weight: 125 lbs., Eyes: hazel. That is how the bureaucrats in Albany see Beth... black ink on paper.

I saw lovely women with a nice figure, clear complexion and youthful face. I saw intelligent hazel eyes, a small turned up nose and sensuous lips. Elizabeth's hair was pinned up sensibly for work, neat and professional, her precious little ears showing. Beth was wearing a white blouse and a dark gray skirt that day, with stockings and black pumps.

I got out of my truck, smiling and was fascinated with this pretty woman. Elizabeth walked over to introduce herself. Beth's handshake was firm and sincere. Elizabeth was confident and looked me directly in the eye when she spoke.

I liked Elizabeth immediately. I showed Beth the apartment on the spot without an appointment. Two weeks later I helped Beth move her belongings from a small storage unit in Batavia with my pickup truck.

After Elizabeth had lived above me for about 11 months. I got to know Beth's routine and schedule. Elizabeth was friendly but reserved and mostly tended to keep to herself. Beth never had any gentlemen callers and seldom went out. Elizabeth did bowl every Thursday on a women's bowling league.

When Beth first moved in, she offered to help cut the grass. During the winter months, if Beth saw me outside shoveling, she would come out and help me. In the spring I taught Elizabeth how to operate the old farm tractor I used to mow the property. Without thinking, I picked Beth up by the waist and put her on the seat. What a surprised look Elizabeth had on her face. I immediately apologized, a little red in the face; what was I thinking, or not thinking. The first few times Beth drove the tractor, I stood along side on the step up while Beth was driving talking her through things. The second time out and unable to stop, Beth ran the tractor into the red sumac bushes sending me flying. Elizabeth took over caring for the perennial flowerbeds my wife planted around the house. I pretty much had left them to go a little wild. As with the fall leaves, Beth delighted in watching the first buds on the plants. Elizabeth would insist on me coming over to look at each one when they bloomed. Beth's favorites were the yellow daffodils, as were mine For Beth, I would drop whatever I was doing to go look. In the evening we often sat together under the walnut trees. We made small talk and argued current events.

Politically we are diametric. Our arguments are passionate but never contentious. I would sit with my arms folded, rooted in place like my trees, not giving an inch. Elizabeth would circle my chair. Beth would then stop in front of me. Beth's hands placed firmly on her hips, leaning slightly forward. Then Elizabeth would make her point or counter argument. Finally Beth would stand straight and give her head a little toss. When she did, I often had the urge to grab Beth and kiss her mouth. Not to silence her mind you, but just because Beth was so damn stubborn...and pretty. We seldom agreed about politics and most often agreed to disagree. We wanted the same good things for our country, but approached it from different directions. Elizabeth would sit and crochet hats, scarves, mittens and blankets that she donated to the needy until dark. On those days, Margaret might join us, bringing the fixings for homemade ice cream, maple