Betsy Moran was a naturalist down to her smallest toe. A relatively happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care type, Betsy spent most of her life living as "organically" as possible. She scoured health food stores for the newest, healthiest food supplements and gobbled them daily like candy. Not that she ever indulged in sugary sweets. There was the occasional foray into carob, a healthful chocolate substitute when a chocolate attack got the better of her.
Otherwise, she shopped at an organic green grocer's for dark green veggies, yams, organically grown tomatoes and carrots, blueberries, dried fruits and loaded up on soy beans, sunflower seeds, almonds, tofu and yogurt. She kept her own small garden under her kitchen window for fresh herbs she tended carefully.
Betsy was a great cook. She was as creative in the kitchen as she was particularly clever about her outdoor landscape. At the front of her red brick, cottage style home with black shutters, she planted few trees. She lived near enough to a forest to enjoy rustic nature in all four seasons.
Her friend, Danny Wycoff, just back from a business trip out west brought her a souvenoir: a three-inch high cactus plant.
"Oh Danny! That won't grow here. It's too cold in winter," Betsy said.
Betsy lived in upstate New York where winter temperatures could be brutal for a week or more and snow fell up to four or more feet from November through March.
"This will. I promise. It comes from the foothills of the Rockies. If it can stand mountain temperatures, it should be okay in our winters," Danny said.
Danny and Betsy met when Betsy was a traveling saleswoman over a decade ago. When she moved to her New York cottage home, Danny fell in love with the rural scenery and more so, with the peace and quiet his New York City apartment would never offer in a million years.
Betsy's cottage had two smallish bedrooms and a room she converted into her home "office" even though she considered herself semi-retired.
Danny's only reservation about Betsy living "off the beaten path" was that she had too few neighbors.
"That's because you live with twenty neighbors on one floor of your apartment building," Betsy said, laughing.
"You hardly know your neighbors!" Danny said.
"Which is how I like it."
"But, what about burglars?" Danny asked.
"You are a worry wart. What kind of burglaries would take place here? You see that this neighborhood has only five cottage homes like mine on the entire block," Betsy said.
"Yes. Senior age cottage homes. That makes all of you more vulnerable."
It was true that Marion Street was part of a widespread development of cottage homes that were age restricted. That was what Betsy found so attractive about it. No smart ass kids mouthing off or tearing up the streets in their crotch rocket motor bikes or muscle cars. No little kids crying and pulling tantrums in the local grocery and green grocer stores.
That was the part Betsy loved most. That she had a ten-minute drive to a regular grocery store, a green grocer and even better, local chicken and dairy farms where she could get the freshest dairy and eggs.
She wasn't a total vegetarian; but, she did limit her meat diet to an occasional steak whenever Danny visited and they had dinner at the Chop N' Grill restaurant over in Duncan Hills.
Betsy ate chicken sparingly. Since Lake Montrose was not more than five miles from her home, she was able to get freshly caught fresh water fresh at the fishmonger's whenever she pleased.
Betsy, all five feet and one hundred and twenty pounds of her, understood the concept of balance between diet and exercise.
Often when Danny visited, she didn't hear the doorbell because she wore her headphones while bouncing up and down on her mini trampoline or was running breathlessly on her treadmill. These she kept in her home office. Then, Danny would walk round to the side window of her home office and knock until he caught her attention.
"Yeesh. It's next to impossible to get your attention when you are on that treadmill or mini tramp. Do you think it's a good idea to wear those headphones living here all by yourself? What if someone tried to break in?"
"Again with that burglary stuff?" Betsy answered, wiping perspiration from her forehead and neck with a terry towel.
"Honestly, Danny. You'd think I live in an inner city where the crime rate was through the roof! I'll bet Singleton has a crime rate of zero for the last forty years," she added.
Danny knew not to create conflict with a petite, determined, dark haired, dark eyed beauty like Betsy. He found it odd she never thought of herself as a beauty, much less an attractive woman.
She's always preoccupied with so many other interests. She has no time to focus on herself. Danny thought.
Not that Betsy didn't have a fashion sense. She did. It just wasn't the kind you see in haute couture fashion magazines. Her preference in style was a kind of combination of southwestern mixed in with a smidgeon of modern. Her tastes in furnishings also fit this style.
Danny always felt comfortable in Betsy's home. It was as neat as a pin in a "homey" sort or way. If there was anything of notice, it was her books. The living room, bright and airy with a triple window, had two bookcases full of her favorite books. There was a TV in an entertainment cabinet, along with a disc player and radio and two lamp tables. The only wall hangings were two framed prints of the nearby woods she photographed herself.
While Betsy was at the stove cooking, Danny loved to hear that gentle humming. Usually, it was a song from a Broadway musical that stuck in her mind.
With every visit, Danny checked on his "cactus plant. After all, Betsy's only flaw was a flimsy memory that added to her charm.
"Betsy, my plant looks as if you forgot to water it," Danny said.
"Do you get the idea of "gift giving?" Betsy shot back.
"Okay. Your cactus plant looks like it is about to keel over from dehydration. Shall I water it for you?" Danny asked.
"Be my guest. Or should that be, "Being as you are my guest, be your "guest?"
Danny knew Betsy was making a joke at his expense.
"I thought cactus could live forever without water," Betsey said, plopping a salad on the dining room table.
"I said that cacti doesn't need "frequent" watering and fertilizer. It isn't a camel you know,"
"Oh. Well, let's eat. I want to take a look at the spring bulbs I planted out front," Betsy said.
"When did you plant them?"
"Three days ago, why?"
"What makes you think they will be sprouted yet?"
"It's been sunny and warm all week. I'm sure to have a tiny bit of green sprouts by now," Betsy said.
Danny was amazed that a woman born on a midwestern farm seemed limited in her knowledge of plant growth.
"Betsy, this isn't your home state of Kansas where the springs are much earlier and warmer."
"Yes. I know. But, I am used to faster plant growth after a snowy winter. It's a Kansas thing," Betsy explained.
When Danny returned to his job in New York City, Betsy realized hadn't heard from him for over a month. She knew sales was often "feast or famine" and sales people have to "get while the getting is good."
He must be in feast mode to be too busy to call. She thought.
This thought reminded her of something else: the cactus plant.
"Uh oh. The last time that thing had any care was when Danny was here, a month ago." She muttered to herself.
She walked into the living room and over to the plant stand upon which the cactus pot stood.
"Eeeek! This thing is practically dead! What on earth am I going to do? Danny will be furious. He brought this thing all the way from Rockies and I've killed it!"
Betsy saw there was only one hope: Plant the thing outside under her window. With the temperatures so warm and sunny, a little more water and more room to spread its roots, it might be saved.
She went back indoors and grabbed the plant and headed back outside. Next, she went into the shed for a shovel. She dug about six inches into the soil and plopped the cactus plant in the hole. Then, she covered it up and carefully patted the soil around the base of the plant.
When she stood erect, she looked down at the shriveling cactus.
"You better grow or else!" she told the plant.
The expression on her elfin face was serious.
If this doesn't work, I don't know how I will explain it to Danny.
Betsy decided to take one "extra" precaution. She got into her car and drove to the garden center. She explained the problem to the man behind the counter. She forgot to mention she already moved the cactus plant outdoors.
"I have just the thing. This is a plant fertilizer that is newly developed by us right here for our own plants and trees," the man said.
"This plant is nearly dead," Betsy said.
"No problem. Just mix one half cup of this with water and pour it around the base of the plant. In a few days, you'll see your plant perk up and start to grow new shoots and leaves."
Betsy followed his instructions. But after two days, the plant looked no differently than it had. She got the idea to use twice as much of the fertilizer to the same amount of water.
The next morning the plant keeled over in supplication to too much fertilizer.
Betsy panicked. She doused it with water. Probably more than it needed. When she checked the plant again later that evening, she noticed it was erect again.
"Wow! It worked!" she muttered.
Pleased with her accomplishment of salvaging a nearly dead cactus plant, she went for a long walk in the woods.
When she returned, she saw the cactus had numerous sprouts and looked healthier than it had been.
The phone rang shortly after dinner that evening. It was her daughter, Jennifer.
"Hi Mom, It's Jen."
"Yes dear. I see that from the phone display. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mom. I was wondering if you'd like to take a short sight seeing trip with me," Jennifer said.
"Sounds great. Where to?" Betsy asked.
"I'm thinking since the weather has been so nice, we could high tail it off to the Jersey Shore."
"Jen, I don't think the boardwalks open there until Fourth of July."
"I checked. They open a few weeks before Memorial Day. It's nearly Fourth of July. Come on Mom. Let's go. We'll have a lot of fun," Jennifer said.
"Where will we stay?"
"I've already booked one of those suites in a Victorian Bed and Breakfast for five days. There's lots to see and we can rent a car if we want to go off the beaten path," Jennifer said.
"When do we leave?" Betsy asked.
"We'll take a train as far as Little Silver and then take a cab or rental car from there," Jennifer said.
"Ooh. A train. You know how I love train rides," Betsy said.
"Yep. That was my idea. I'll pick you up by cab on Friday morning at six. The train pulls into the station at 7. So we'll have plenty of time to get coffee and donuts if we want to take them along," Jennifer said.
Betsy was thrilled at the prospect of a trip away from Singleton, even for five days. She packed a bag and made sure mail and newspapers was held till she returned. Then, as the cab arrived, she checked to make sure all of the lights were turned off and everything was safe and sound.
Singleton train station is less than twenty minutes from Marion Street. Betsy hadn't been on a train trip in more than a decade. Her life in her cottage home kept her busy inside and out. She mused over how little she traveled, between short conversations with Jennifer.
"Isn't this such fun, Mom?" Jennifer said.
"You are so like me. You always loved riding the trains. Buses, not so much," Betsy said.
"Well, this is only a four hour ride even with the stops at the stations in between. What do you hear from your friend Danny?"
"Oh Jen. I think I may have saved a cactus plant he gave me from a fatal end," Betsy said.
Jennifer laughed so loud the passengers sitting in the seat across from them stared.
"Sorry. But, my Mom often does things that make me laugh," Jennifer said, apologetically.
The older woman in the seat sniffed at the attempt at an apology and looked away.
"What do you mean, Mom? What could you possibly do to a cactus plant that would make it die? Those things live as long as the dinosaurs. They are so hardy," Jennifer said.
"Uh..well. I guess I forgot to water it for a month. It kind of began to keel over all limp," Betsy said.
"That shouldn't have hurt it that much. Are you sure you didn't have it too close to a drafty window?" Jennifer asked.
Betsy would rather that plant die from cold than from lack of care.
"I never gave that a thought. You might just be right. It was under a window. Don't know if the window is drafty. Even so, the cold window might still cause the temperature near the plant to drop too low," Betsy said.
"Mom, do you think Danny will believe that?"
"Oh, Jennifer. What difference does it make? I went to the garden center and the man there gave me this really great fertilizer. At first the cactus kind of rebelled and drooped the first day. So I double dosed the fertilizer and the water. It was okay when we left. I'm sure it'll be fine when we return in a week," Betsy said.
Except...That Betsy and Jennifer decided to stay on for an extra week. The weather in Cape May was so lovely and the sound of the pounding surf and gentle sea breezes, too good to miss.
The two women decided to rent a car and venture off to the glitz and glamor of Atlantic City and the famous boardwalk. It was as if they were magnets to the boardwalk shops, food, music and entertainment.
Jennifer coerced her mother into foregoing her usual health food regime for the delights along the boardwalk food emporiums.
"It's impossible to be on any diet in a place like this. It's a "foodie's heaven" for sure," Betsy said, biting into a large sausage and pepper sandwich.
"Uh, Mom, you know that sausage is pork, don't you?" Jennifer said, amused.
"Yes. I do. Now, let me enjoy this. I could smell this sandwich in my dreams. Just don't ask me to ignore the best thing I've tasted in a long time. I'll return to my health diet when I am in Singleton. For now? I'm going to try everything tasty on this boardwalk."
"Do you want to try your hand in the casinos?"
"Yes. But, let's remember we are not flush with money," Betsy said.
Neither Betsy nor Jennifer were able to be "high rollers." Betsy was just happy to win a pittance at a one armed bandit and was amused each time Jen's machine rolled past three winner cherries.
When they returned to Cape May, they plunked themselves down on the rough, sandy shore as the sun began to set on the waters of the Great Atlantic Ocean, sparkling like a treasure chest full of diamonds.
"It's really so great just to break with daily routine," Betsy said.
"I agree. Well, this is nearly our last day here. Let's do "high tea" on the veranda," Jennifer said.
"Well, high tea is it? I would love it. But, let's go back to our room and get our things packed now, so we don't have to rush in the morning." Betsy said.
When they boarded the train again in Little Silver to take them back home to Singleton the next morning, Betsy felt a deep sense of loss. Somehow, the Jersey Shore was like a tonic for all of the human ailments of depression, boredom and monotony. She felt a great sense of connection to nature that's unmistakable. Almost like being a mermaid and discovering the depths of the ocean in all its glory.
Betsy napped for most of the way back to Singleton.
She felt Jennifer nudge her.
"Mom? We're here."
Betsy groaned.
"It was so lovely being away. Thank you dear, for suggesting it. We must do it again soon," Betsy said.
"Mom? Look! There's a police tape around your house," Jennifer said.
"What!"
Betsy stared incredulously. Jennifer was right. There was one of those yellow tapes around the front of her house with the words "Caution" written all over it and a police car sitting just along the curb on the opposite side of the street.
Betsy and Jennifer both exited the cab.
"Should I wait, M'am?" The cabbie asked.
"Oh Jen, I don't want to go in the house alone. Why don't you stay and I'll drive you home, if nothing is seriously amiss," Betsy said.
Two uniformed police officers approached as the two women exited the departing cab.
"You ladies live here?" one of the officers asked.
"I do, sir. This is my daughter, Jennifer Davies. She lives in North Singleton. May we go in?"
"M'am, I'm sorry. This is a crime scene. How long have you been away?"
"Two weeks, officer, why? What's happened?"
"A burglar attempted to break in to your house last night," the officer said.
"A burglar? Did he steal anything?" Betsy asked.
"No m'am. He never got that far. Your cactus under that side window being so tall, we think he fell into it in the dark and it killed him."
Betsy looked at the cactus.
"Oh my Lord! Jen! Look...the cactus is nearly as high as the windows in the front," Betsy said.
"M'am this plant is dangerous. The thorns are what killed the burglar," the second officer put in.
"Thorns? But, officer, I assure you this plant was nearly dead when I left for our trip. Only days before I put fertilizer on it I bought at garden center. What on earth made it grow so fast?" Betsy said.
"I'd find out what's in that fertilizer, then. If, as you say, this cactus was nearly dead, stands to reason something in that fertilizer made it grow as high as it has and with five-inch long thorns," the first officer said.
"Officer, you say the burglar tried to break in from the side window?" Betsy asked.
"Yes, m'am. The ground under that window is also covered with cacti," the first officer said.
"I didn't plant any cactus there. Good grief!"
"Seems like this plant is one of those that spreads all over wildly. Where did you get it?" the second officer asked.
"Oh, it was a gift from a friend. Uh, officers have you identified the man, yet?" Betsy asked.
"Mom, I'm sure he was just a drifter," Jennifer said.
"He wasn't a very good burglar. The window hasn't been forced. You think you may know the man?" The officer asked.
"I'm sure not. It could be just someone who drove through the street several times before he realized that the house was unoccupied. I left my car in the garage and all the doors and windows were locked. I double checked them all before we left," Betsy said.
"A criminal who wants to break will always find a way. We checked to see if any of the basement windows were forced. They weren't. That's why this is curious. If he drove around the place and saw it was empty, he should have seen the cactus all over the place," the second officer said.
"Well, may I go inside now and get a few things so I can stay at my daughter's until your men are through with your investigation?" Betsy asked.
The two police officers accompanied Betsy and Jennifer inside. While Betsy packed a few things, Jennifer checked to see if anything was missing.
"It looks as if nothing has been moved," Jennifer said.
"I checked my jewelry case. Nothing taken from there either. I can't imagine what anyone could be looking for. I'm not exactly the richest woman in Singleton," Betsy said.
Two days later, Jennifer and Betsy were enjoying their breakfast around nine o'clock when the phone rang.
"Mom, it's for you. It's Singelton Police," Jennifer said, hanging her mother the phone.
"Hello? This is Betsy Moran. Yes. Uh-huh, Well I am glad to hear that I can move back home. Thank you so much for all your help. By the way, has the burglar been identified?" Betsy asked.
"Yes. His name is Daniel Wycoff. He lives in New York City" the dectective said.
