The Wreck of Elizabeth

By Janine Cooper Ayres

Elizabeth Winters' life is a bit like a human shipwreck. She works at a job she hates in downtown Los Angeles, is dealing with major credit card and school loan debt and is living a life of 'quiet desperation' alone with her cat Betty Boop. Her world is turned upside down when she gets into a car wreck in the Angeles National Forest and meets a handsome introvert named Josh Emerson. He teaches her to live a simpler life through the teachings and principles of Henry David Thoreau while she teaches him to make peace with the 21st century as a steamy relationship develops between them. The story also includes a historic look back a the actual 'Wreck of Elizabeth' and Thoreau's account of traveling to Fire Island in search of Margaret Fuller Ossoli and her family who perished there in 1850. Included in the story are a host of colorful characters also in the midst of transforming their own lives. Max is one of them. His drug dealing days are over after overdosing on the drug fentanyl. This is a fictional story inspired by the author's love of Henry David Thoreau and her own ongoing attempt to simplify things and live a life that is more in harmony with nature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9781304320865

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Elizabeth had a bad feeling in her stomach. It always alerted her when something was off. She knew that she started out too late to be driving up a narrow canyon road all alone, especially with the recent news about her uncle’s passing causing all kinds of emotions and memories to surface, along with a very stressful day at work. Leaving her cell phone in the charging station on her desk only added to her anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her fear. Piece of cake. I’ve got this… she whispered out loud, trying to convince herself to keep going.

The long drive through the San Fernando Valley and up Interstate 5 from downtown L.A. had already taken an hour. The sun was beginning to sink over the steep hillsides which were covered with brittle bone-dry chaparral.

She tried to focus, despite her fatigue. To make matters worse, or better, depending on how you look at it, she was driving her new cobalt blue BMW. It handled so well that she was taking the curves much faster than she would if she still had her old SUV, which she’d nicknamed Turtle because it seemed to have a mind all its own, refusing to go faster than it wanted despite how hard she pressed down on the gas pedal.

Shards of light from the last of the sun’s rays messed with her eyes and distracted her a few times. So, when Elizabeth crossed paths with the mama deer and her fawn, she instinctively turned the wheel to the right and away from possible oncoming traffic. Unfortunately, her speed caused her to lose control.

She missed a large old oak tree by inches and traversed into a creek that was carrying about a half foot of water in it from the reservoir six miles further up the road. It was a hard landing. The airbag deployed, leaving her in a cloud of white powder.

Stunned, Elizabeth sat still for a moment checking in with her body to make sure there were no broken bones or bloody cuts. She did feel a tightness around her stomach. It was her safety belt and it seemed to be stuck, wrapped around her too tightly to allow her to move or escape. That’s when she smelled gasoline.  Suddenly her heart began to pound as she imagined what would happen if there was a spark or a fire in the engine. 

The more she tried to move, the tighter the seatbelt became.

The sun was now setting to the west, casting dark shadows all around her. What if she couldn’t get out and nobody knew where she was? She didn’t even have her cellphone to call for help. She was trying not to panic, taking slow deep breaths and on the brink of an anxiety attack when she heard a dog barking and then a voice calling out, Are you okay down there?

CHAPTER ONE

ELIZABETH

Elizabeth Winters had just sat down to eat her sandwich at Nick’s Deli in downtown L.A. when her cellphone rang. She quickly answered, putting the phone on speaker mode so she could eat.

Hey Dad. What’s up?

Carl Winters, a retired police captain, took no time getting down to the core of things. I’m sorry to have to tell you this over the phone, honey, but your Uncle Bill passed away last night.

Oh no! What happened? Shocked, Elizabeth quickly turned the speaker off and held the phone up to her ear.

Thankfully, he died in his sleep. Might’ve been a stroke or a heart attack. It doesn’t look like anything suspicious, at least not yet. He was in his cabin alone. His friend Joe found him this morning when he was returning some tools. He said the door was unlocked so he went in and found Bill in his chair. Rigor mortis had already set in. The coroner’s on his way. I am too.

Oh, Dad. I am so sorry!

I am too. Dammit, I should’ve spent more time with him after Shirley died.

Don’t feel bad, Dad. How were you to know?

I just wish I could turn back time is all. Carl sighed.

I get it. That’s how I feel about Mom. Elizabeth pushed her plate away. Suddenly her sandwich had no appeal.

You know he wanted you to have his cabin, right?

I know. But it’s an hour out of the city. Maybe Richard should take it. Have you told him yet?

No, I’ll call him next. Keep in mind, Richard is a successful lawyer now. He probably won’t want it. Anyway, we’ll figure that all out when the times comes but I’m hoping you can meet me up there tonight after work. Carl proposed.

Tonight. Why? 

Bill has a lot of valuables and, well… there are some squatters up in the forest. We may have to take shifts until everything gets sorted through.

Okay, but it’ll probably take me a few hours to get up there from downtown. I’ll ask if I can leave early.

Thanks, sweetie. Let your boss know there was a death in the family. He’ll understand.

Will do. I’ll be up there as soon as possible. Elizabeth replied as she watched a homeless man picking through a garbage can outside the deli window.

Be safe driving up the canyon. Her father added.

I will… and Dad, I’m so sorry you lost your big brother.

She ended the call and stared blankly at her lunch. She couldn’t believe her uncle was gone. Just like that. She never even got to say goodbye. Wrapping her sandwich back up, she walked outside and approached the elderly man who was in the process of pulling out a paper bag from the trash can. Excuse me. Would you like this sandwich? I haven’t eaten any of it yet. She asked, trying to ignore the man’s odor, a mix of alcohol, urine and sweat. He accepted the sandwich but since he avoided eye contact, he didn’t see her warm smile.

Rushing back toward her office building, Elizabeth took a few deep breaths that must’ve accessed something buried inside, bringing her emotions to the surface.

In that moment, reality sunk in. She’d never be able to talk with her uncle again -- or go fishing with him or hiking up in the Angeles National Forest or on the Pacific Crest Trail like they’d done so often when she was young. Why didn’t I visit him more often? She thought to herself.

Sadness swept over her, and she became unsteady as tears distorted her view. She saw shapes and prisms of light that turned into memories in her mind of simpler days. She finally had to stop and take a moment, pretending to look at a garish red evening gown in a store window. Almost immediately a stout boisterous woman ran outside to try to sell it to her.  Beautiful. For you! she exclaimed.

Elizabeth mustered a smile. Quickly wiping away a tear she replied, No thank you. Checking the time on her phone, she realized she’d better get back to work. Hurrying along the busy streets of downtown, more memories surfaced, like the beautiful year-round creek behind her uncle’s cabin, which is very rare in southern California.

As a young girl she panned for gold with her uncle in that creek and looked for frogs, toads and minnows and she tried to catch monarchs or swallowtail butterflies with her net on its banks. They were wonderful memories of innocent times that played out in her mind’s eye like an old silent movie, one clip after another as tears of regret rolled down her cheeks.

When did life become so complicated? Elizabeth slowed her pace again, wishing she could pause her workload and leave the office immediately, but she knew better. With a tax deadline coming up in a few months her boss had asked her to try to get ahead of it. Last year they had procrastinated in sending the forms to their vendors.

Arriving back at the fifty-two-story office building where she worked, more memories continued to command her thoughts as she waited for the elevator. The next vision that surfaced was sitting next to her uncle at his wife Shirley’s funeral.

Elizabeth remembered feeling no strength in his hand as she held it during his wife’s memorial service. He was like a second father to her at one time. And since he and Shirley only had one son, she was like a daughter to him as well.

Often you hear about a surviving spouse dying soon after their mate’s passing. She remembered thinking that might happen with her uncle, but eventually he seemed to recover. Or perhaps he was just pretending to, as many do.

The elevator lurched and jolted as she went up… up… every now and then stopping for someone to depart or enter. Elizabeth knew a few of the other passengers. They were used to seeing her bright smile. It was evident something was wrong. She kept her head down as they all rode up; most had gotten off before the elevator reached her stop – the 49th floor.

Stepping off the elevator, another thought floated into her mind. What would it be like to live in her uncle’s cabin by herself? He told her it was built in 1928 as part of a recreational residence program that Woodrow Wilson first initiated, and he knew the exact time of year it was built too because of the crumpled newspaper used for insulation found in one of the walls. On her 21st birthday her uncle explained that he’d talked with his son, and it was determined that Richard didn’t want the cabin so it would be hers someday.

Elizabeth was 29 years old now. So much had changed since then. With her love of fashion, she’d become a city girl, through and through. The thought of living alone in a cabin frightened her now. That’s how far away from nature her world had become.

Arriving at her desk, she logged back onto her computer and tried her best to re-focus on work. Since her mother passed away four years earlier, she was good at compartmentalizing. You might even say she’d cracked the code of shifting out of her emotions and into her intellect. It took a bit of practice but once she learned how to control her emotions it was very helpful.

Unfortunately, she had become too good at it. Living this way also had its disadvantages. Elizabeth sometimes felt like Captain Spock from Star Trek – not a very warm nor inviting trait to attract a mate. This was confusing because her smile and demeanor were so infectious, but once she drew people in, they had nowhere to go as she suddenly cut them off, holding them at a distance. For this reason, she spent much of her time alone during weeknights and weekends with her calico cat, Betty Boop.

She pulled out a small mirror from the desk drawer, checking her hair and makeup. Sure enough, the crying episode created black mascara streaks and ugly red blotches on her face. She cleaned the smudges, then she unclipped her blonde hair, just as her co-worker Angie arrived with a thick blue binder.

This is the last one, I promise, Angie said with a sly smile.

Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Elizabeth responded, trying to hide her sadness as Angie continued on her way.

Working in property management and helping to manage the large 52 story building in downtown L.A. had started off as a temporary position after college but when Elizabeth was asked to come on board on a permanent basis, she reluctantly took the position. Considering that her major was Graphic Design she convinced herself that she would only stay for two years while paying down her student loans and saving up for a small house where she could have a home-based graphic design company.

But two years had turned into seven in the blink of an eye. She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to pay off $30,000 of student loans while paying for rent, utilities, a car payment, and credit card bills. In fact, somehow, she’d gone the other way and was ashamed to admit, especially to her father that she was now about $48,000 in debt.

When her mother Iris died of breast cancer it seemed to be the catalyst for more spending, more distractions, and more complexities. Elizabeth’s boyfriend even left her, due to her constant need to shop online, check in on her social media apps or escape into the latest device like an iPad, cell phone, or the reality TV shows that she spent her weekends binge-watching.

Anything to escape the sadness of losing her mom who was also her best friend. The final two weeks were the most difficult to remember. She filled the painful cracks of those memories with various things: jewelry – designer clothing – shoes – purses – chocolate – wine – podcasts – reality TV, and her latest purchase, a beautiful brand-new BMW. She had no business purchasing it, but the sales associate ran the numbers, telling her it would only cost about $250.00 more a month on the loan.

The timing was perfect. She’d just gotten a raise of nearly that same amount, so it seemed like a sign. She also felt deserving of it for all she’d had to endure; losing her mom and working at a job she hated.  This is how shopaholics think. This is how they justify their purchases – with excuses and rationalizations.

Living in a rented guest home near downtown in Silver Lake with her cat, Elizabeth led a solitary and regimented life. She communicated with her friends mainly through texts and social media. It wasn’t very fun or satisfying, but it was her reality.

Quickly approaching her thirtieth birthday, she never imagined she’d still be working in property management – and on the 49th floor no less, in a city where earthquakes are likely. With the ‘biggie’ inevitable at some point, she sometimes felt as though she was playing Russian Roulette with her life.

The next couple of hours flew by as Elizabeth did her best to hurry through her tax prep. chores. Thankfully her boss was understanding when she asked to leave early due to her uncle’s untimely passing. At 4:00 she gathered her belongings and rushed out of the office and down to her car. Unfortunately, what she didn’t bring was her cell phone which she left charging on its dock on her desk.

Elizabeth wasn’t looking forward to her long drive north on Interstate 5. She found her favorite podcast series, The Dazzle Dudes, and began listening. Merging onto the 110, she immediately came to a sudden standstill. There was no accident ahead, this was just a normal daily phenomenon. God forbid there was a major disaster, she often thought. It would be total pandemonium!

She was about to check for an alternate route but was distracted by a guy in a yellow Ferrari who cut her off. He then had the audacity to flip her off when she beeped at him.  In that moment she decided she would give some serious thought to leaving the big city to live in her uncle’s cabin. With no rent to pay – a savings of about $1,500 each month – she could finally break free from the 8 to 5 grind and work from the comfort of her own home, doing what she loved and living an artist’s life.

CHAPTER TWO

JOSH

Josh Emerson had been working on the hillside behind his cabin all day, preparing a ditch to catch water and mud for the upcoming winter season. At thirty-five years old, he looked as though he’d just stepped out of an old photo from another place and time, with unkempt brown hair, a long scraggly beard and faded over-alls.

A rare sudden downpour had come through the night before. It would only put a dent in fire season which was always a big threat to the Angeles National Forest annually, especially when the Santa Ana winds came howling in during the Autumn months.

Josh grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge and picked up the latest book he’d found at the Goodwill store in town. It was a large hardcover book about shipwrecks. This subject, like many others, fascinated him. He was a voracious reader. He headed out to his hammock under an ancient oak, plopped down and opened to a page at random to a title that read: The Wreck of The Elizabeth, and began to read:

The year was 1850. The newly built 530-ton ship traveling from Italy to America did not have many passengers on board. It was a cargo ship carrying marble, silk, and other items. There were only fourteen shipmates and eight passengers, one of which was a celebrity at the time.  Margaret Fuller was a writer and possibly the very first known American feminist. One particular quote of hers, shocking at the time, would prove to be somewhat ironic upon her death: We would have every path laid open to women as freely as to men. If you ask me what offices they may fill, I reply -- any. I do not care what case you put; let them be sea captains, if you will.

These powerful if not radical words inspired women like Susan B. Anthony to declare that Fuller ‘possessed more influence on thought in American women than any woman previous to her time’.

Three years earlier, in 1847, Margaret went to Europe to cover the ever-changing political scene. While in Italy she met a young man named Giovanni who was ten years her junior. They had one child together and soon thereafter got married.

Giovanni Angelo, the Marchese d’Ossoli, was well known in his own right and for this reason they opted to travel with their young son discreetly on the cargo ship named The Elizabeth.

They set out to sail on a spring day; May 19, 1850. Margaret’s friend, the poet Robert Browning saw her off but when he noticed how low the ship sat in the water due to the heavy Carrara marble on board, he urged Margaret to disembark with her husband and young son, Angelino.

Unfortunately, she did not heed his advice. Instead, putting her trust in the captain, she bravely climbed aboard with her belongings, along with three years of writings that she hoped to have published upon her return. With summer around the corner there would likely be no severe storms at sea; she’d expected smooth sailing across the Atlantic. But what she hadn’t expected was for the ship’s captain to become deathly ill with smallpox.  He died halfway into the journey and the ship was forced to layover in Gibraltar where all passengers were quarantined. Nobody on board could disembark and the ship soon set sail again with an inexperienced shipmate as the new captain.

Meanwhile Margaret Fuller’s two-year-old son had contracted smallpox too. She and her husband, along with the boy’s personal nurse were somehow able to help him survive it. They were extremely relieved as he continued to regain strength. They thought the worst was over. But a sudden storm approached making visibility difficult especially for the new captain.

The cargo ship was nearing the New York coastline at about 4:30 a.m. when it ran into a sandbar. With the heavy marble on board, the ship’s weight shifted, and the slabs burst right through the ship’s side, sinking the ship into the shallow ocean as water quickly began seeping in.

The ship was only about 300 yards from the shore of Fire Island when it sunk on that early morning of July 19, 1850.

As the sun rose, a crowd gathered on shore. They watched helplessly as the passengers seemed to be swallowed up by the angry sea before the ship itself disappeared.

Onboard Margaret Fuller watched her husband disappear into the sea. Drenched in a white night gown she handed her son to a crew member hoping he might save the young boy, but both were soon tossed into the angry sea as well.

Witnesses later described Margaret’s last moments. Sitting with her back to the foremast and her hands on her knees, she too was washed overboard. Her last words were reported to be, I see nothing but death before me. I shall never reach the shore.

*  *    *

Josh set the book down, imagining for a moment what it must’ve felt like to experience the horror and magnitude of Margaret’s loss and dying in such a terrifying way.

One of his biggest fears was fathering a child and then having them die before him. And to think that Margaret Fuller had to watch both her son and husband parish was almost too much for him to comprehend. He picked up his beer and took a big sip, swallowing the sadness that surfaced from reading the story about the shipwreck. He closed his eyes and soon surrendered to a late afternoon nap just as the sun was sinking over the nearby hillside behind his cabin. His cocker spaniel-lab mix, Suds settled nearby on a bed of oak leaves to nap alongside him.

CHAPTER THREE

ELIZABETH

Elizabeth continued her long trek to her uncle’s cabin. While driving, another memory came flooding back. She was about seven years old, building a snowman with her uncle and his son Richard outside of his cabin. It was a rare snowy day.

Most people living outside of California imagine that it’s warm year around. But the truth is that it can get downright frigid about five months out of the year, especially in the higher elevations where Elizabeth’s uncle had lived in his cabin, at the 3,000-foot level.

She was about ten minutes into her journey and had just transitioned onto Interstate 5 when ‘cellphone panic’ kicked in. She searched in her purse and backpack and nearly rear-ended the car in front of her when she tried to feel for it on the floor. Her heart was racing by now.

Finally, cursing under her breath, she realized she’d left her phone charging at work. After a moment of feeling furious with herself, she reconciled, People have survived for centuries without cell phones. I think I can handle one night.

It had been about four years since she’d gone up to her uncle’s cabin. Why had she let so much time slip away? Again, she blamed it on the city. Los Angeles has a way of distracting a person, enticing them through various temptations, glamours and illusions. She just got caught up in the rat race like so many others.

She was thankful that she’d at least seen her uncle seven months earlier at her father’s house for Easter dinner. She remembered thinking that he was looking a little tired and worn but never did she suspect that it would be the last time she’d ever see him alive. Afterall, he was only 67 years old.

Elizabeth didn’t have her phone’s traffic app to give directions, but that was okay because her memory guided her. She merged from Interstate 5 to the 14 freeway and remembered that she would need at least a quarter tank of gas to get to the cabin and back to the nearest gas station. Luckily, she had just filled her tank the day before.

Her frustration returned as she thought about forgetting her cell phone. Then she remembered that it wouldn’t have worked up in the forest anyway.

Driving up Bouquet Canyon into the Angeles Forest had sometimes made Elizabeth car-sick when she was a young girl. There were so many twists and turns; she had to look straight ahead while driving in the passenger seat. It was tempting to look out the window at the trees and the creek or sometimes a dead rattlesnake or rodent along the winding road that took them eight miles up the narrow canyon road to her uncle’s cabin.

In the driver’s seat now, she was enjoying the hairpin turns, and driving like a racecar driver in her new BMW. It was one of several expenses she really couldn’t afford.

She was about halfway up the canyon when it happened. A mama deer and her young fawn, lumbering across the two-lane winding road surprised Elizabeth as she sped around a blind curve. She quickly turned her wheel to the right, which immediately took her off the side of the road, onto the shoulder and then into a creek which ran year-round due to the reservoir several miles up the canyon. Usually, it was not more than a trickle by autumn but the unusual rain the previous night had it streaming higher than normal.

When she landed in the creek her head veered forward only to be caught by the airbag that had deployed. Sitting there in complete shock and in a daze, Elizabeth tried to come to terms with what had just happened.

After determining she wasn’t hurt, the realization struck that her car was smoking. The smell of gasoline was noticeable too and suddenly she became aware of the dangerous possibility that the car might blow up with well over a half tank of gasoline.

She frantically tried to undo her seatbelt, but it was stuck. Attempting to struggle out of it, it only seemed to get tighter. She tried to open her door, but it wouldn’t budge. The airbag was blocking the steering wheel so she couldn’t reach the horn either.

On the edge of a panic attack, she began to fear the worst. Her heart began beating through her chest. She told herself to breathe… just breathe…

CHAPTER FOUR

ELIZABETH & JOSH

It was dusk and Josh was still asleep on his hammock when he was awakened by the harsh sound of metal scraping rocks and branches crackling. Then he heard a slight splash. Suds sprang up and faced the direction of where the sound was coming from.

Josh knew immediately what had happened. Another idiot, driving too fast around one of the many blind curves had overcorrected or maybe had one too many drinks, and landed in the creek.  He’d lost track of how many people he’d helped in the past and he was no longer sympathetic about it. Whoever it was, he would give them a piece of his mind first and ask questions later.

An eighth of a mile south Elizabeth was about to yell out again when she heard a dog barking. Then she heard a male voice.

"Are you okay down there? Josh arrived with a flashlight.

From what she could see of him, he looked a little scary, with a long scraggily beard and wearing dirty over-alls.

She tried her best to appear calm as she called out, Yes… I’m fine… I’m just stuck.

Josh whispered under his breath, Then you’re not fine, are you? He quickly approached and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Close your eyes.

Why? Elizabeth gasped, fearing the end was near.

I’m gonna break the window. I don’t want you to get glass in your eyes. Josh shouted.

Oh… Elizabeth covered her eyes with her hands, trying not to panic further, although her imagination was running wild.

Josh turned his metal flashlight around and used it to crack her driver’s side window completely. After she heard the glass shatter, Elizabeth uncovered her eyes. She was still stuck in her seat belt. He noticed and pulled out a pocketknife from his overalls. She gasped as he came toward her with it, bracing herself for the worst. But then he simply cut through the seatbelt.

Noticing that she was free, Elizabeth managed a nervous response. Thank you. It looks like you came prepared.

Yeah, this isn’t my first rodeo. Seems like there’s an idiot every week who crashes on this road.

Well, I guess I’m the idiot of the week. She replied nervously before adding, Oh no! I have over a half tank of gas. I’m afraid of an explosion. Please help me out of here. Quick! She grabbed her purse and tried climbing