A Woman of Torment and Sorrow

By J. Phillips Crute

This book is quite unique. The reason that it is so is because it is written by her incarnation into the next life, about the previous one. So prove me a liar about reincarnation, by refuting the reality of this book. I must call it fiction, because, I used the information I know as a skeleton, and created a story around it. It is a story of betrayal, revenge, steamy lovemaking, hope, and tragedy. It follows her up to the (SW) spirit world to show what occurs when she commits suicide, and ascends, until I returned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669845997

J. Phillips Crute

I am a 73 year old man. I spent 20 years in the US Navy, 14 years in Military Sealift Command and 6 years in the Seafarer's Union. I have traveled and spent time all over the world, and have been to the places in my book. I entered the Navy in 1965 at the age of 17, quitting school after the 10th grade. After boot camp, I was sent to Sasebo, Japan for two years. Serving on both the east and west coast I never looked back, retiring from the Navy in 1993. Since I was 16 years old I had the desire to write, encouraged by my grandmother Martha Crute, who was the Librarian in Rocky Point School, which I attended. While I was still in the Navy in 1989, I wrote my first novel Pitfall which went unpublished. Later I spent 10 years writing my first published work, Guidebook of How to Obtain Pureness of Heart to Enter Heaven. I wanted to rewrite Pitfall which was from 1956-1986. Instead I incorporated Pitfall as the second part of my novel, Legacy of Crime 1908-1986.When I think of my great American novel, this is it. From a train robbery in Nevada, which netted $200,000 in gold, to a mafia Don Named Joe Scarlotti, from Augusta, Sicily, who ran one of the five families. Lucinda "Barr" Barritonia silent film star from Hollywood who married him, moving to a Glen Cove, Long Island mansion. Bobby Barritoni is a Navy Water Tender from Rocky Point. Long Island who saved the lives of many of his shipmates after a kamikaze attack off Okinawa. Marie is a world class Ballerina, granddaughter of Don Crutini head of a rival mob. The offspring of this bunch set up the second part, which involves a falling out, of a 5 million dollar robbery of dirty money and the vengeful aftermath, with hitmen, car chases, kidnappings, and gang wars.

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CHAPTER I

Elizabeth Margaret Reilly Arrives

I was born on May 5, 1911 in Bridgeport, Connecticut. The first part of my childhood was normal. I had a loving mother Mary and father John, who gave me a good home. My father was an architect, who owned his own thriving business in Manhattan. My mother, the former Mary Flaherty of Boston, was a heiress of sorts. Her father Maynard was a blueblood, who was one of the most powerful men in Boston. Her mother, the former Rosland Carrington, had her own fortune, whose father was the former mayor of Boston and a financial wizard owning his own bank.

John Reilly met Mary at Hallock Landing Beach in Rocky Point on Long Island, one summer day in 1909. Maybe there is not such a thing as love at first sight, however, in this case, when their eyes met, they were attracted to one another. The remainder of the day, they talked about many many things, and found they’d many interests in common.

John was visiting his childhood friend Danny Annello, whose family owned a summer bungalow near the beach, but lived in Brooklyn the remainder of the year. Mary’s family owned a large white victorian home, located on a bluff overlooking the beach, where they stayed during the summer months, while Maynard commuted to Boston as required for his business dealings.

If Mary’s mother had known what was occurring, she would have packed up her daughter and whisked her back to Boston, but she didn’t. As the summer continued, John and Mary were an item, never apart, as love blossomed. John recently graduated from UCONN The University of Connecticut, as an architect.

Mary was to begin her senior year at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, New York, the following fall. The final weekend of the summer, Mary finally told her mother and father about John. Her mother was curious about this young man, so she told Mary to invite him to dinner Saturday evening.

When John arrived she introduced him to her mother who was distressed by the loving way they looked at each other, seeing that this was more than just a budding romance. Her mother took an instant dislike to this young man after she discovered he’d no fortune, and his father was a bus driver. She must admit he had a good education, but felt there was no substitute for good breeding.

As the evening progressed it was very obvious that Rosland despised John. Her father was indifferent to him, mainly ignoring him. Her mother made up her mind to squash this romance before it gained traction. If she knew how far it had already progressed she would have ensured they were separated, but as it was they weren’t supposed to return to Boston until Monday. So John and Mary spent Sunday together, in the woods above the beach making out. It was quite heated, but never progressed to making love, managing to cement their relationship, of which both agreed to stay together no matter what her mother thought or did. After all she was twenty, and a grown woman. So she gave him her home address so he could write her, and he did likewise, ℅ the Annello home.

John was to begin working at Long & Marrow, a large architectural firm in Manhattan the following Tuesday. There was a spare room in the Annello apartment, where John was invited to stay, until he got on his feet financially. Danny’s parents Rosa and Alphonse were like his second parents.

John’s father Harry gave John his four year old black Ford Model T, when he bought a new car, at the beginning of the summer. John received a scholarship to attend UCONN, or he would have never been able to afford it, his father having no extra money to send him.

He wrote to Mary almost everyday, and couldn’t understand when he received no reply. Little did they know that her mother was intercepting his letters, when they arrived. She’d told her mother to forward John’s letters to her, which her mother never intended to do, lying to her daughter, telling her she would do as she asked.

She was hurt that John had forgotten her so easily. All sorts of thoughts coursed through her mind, seeing him with the sophisticated Manhattan women she imagined he would be with. He continued to write very often. He suspected her mother had something to do with him receiving no reply, but had no proof.

After two months without any word he decided to confront her in person. He drove the eighty miles to Poughkeepsie on a Friday afternoon, having taken a half day off work, telling his boss he must take care of a personal matter.

Arriving at the university, he proceeded to the registrar’s office. Of course they wouldn’t tell him where she was. He’d anticipated this, so he’d written a letter, which he gave to the woman behind the counter, asking if she could see that Mary received it. He explained what’d occurred. Fortunately the woman he’d entrusted the letter to was a romantic, and ensured John that Mary would receive the letter, which said.

Dear Mary,

I don’t know what has happened between us. I want you to know I have written to you almost everyday since we’ve parted. If you don’t want to see me anymore, I will understand. Please write to me and let me know, if your mother is involved, trying to drive us apart. I still want to be with you no matter what. I love you Mary, and want you to be my wife, after you graduate, whether your mother wants it or not. If you still want me, tell me how I can contact you without your mother being involved.

I Love you always & forever

John

When she received his letter she knew what’d occurred. Her mother kept his letters, trying to drive a wedge between them. Well she would never let that happen. She wrote John a loving letter.

My Dearest John,

I am so humiliated by my mother’s behavior. She must have kept your letters from me, after I explicitly told her to send them to me. I want to be your wife now more than ever. She gave him a phone number where she could be contacted out in the hall of her dorm. I am also giving you my mailing address, something I didn’t know until I’d returned to school.

I love you John and can reassure you my mother doesn’t run my life. I hope you can come and visit me some weekend.

Yours’s Now & Forever

Love Mary

P.S. Don’t wait too long to come and see me. It’s been too long already.

So that’s what they did. He visited and they spent time together. After a few months on March 11, 1910 they were secretly married, not wanting to wait for May. At her graduation, which John attended, her mother was horrified to see him there. She wondered whether she’d underestimated them, and they continued to see each other behind her back, which she now suspected.

When they returned to the hotel room, Rosland confronted her daughter, saying.

What is that horrible boy doing here? She gave her mother a sour look, saying.

"He is here to see me. We love each other, and you might as well get used to the idea. I am of age and will marry whom I please. Her mother scoffed at that, saying.

Married! You’re still a child. I forbid you to marry this, this commoner!

I am going to marry him, whether you like it or not! Her mother gaped at her, saying, in an authoritative tone.

I must warn you young lady. If you persist in marrying this peasant. I will disown you, mark my words! Mary shook her head, which infuriated her mother, as she said.

I don’t care about your money. My happiness is more important than that.

You little ungrateful wretch! You will obey me, or else, I will ruin him! Now her father interrupted, carefully as his wife was the boss, meekly saying.

She is of age. If you persist in this, you will surely lose her for good! She stared at him, making him cower, as she angrily said.

You butt out, if you know what’s good for you. I will not abide you contradicting me on this. She will not marry that man, period! Mary was becoming frustrated, saying.

Thanks Dad, but it will do no good to try and reason with her. I guess she was so used to running my life, that she never thought it would ever end. But it has as of now!

She exited the room, with her mother yelling after her, spewing threat after threat, but she never turned around, just kept on walking, right into John’s arms, who was waiting for her outside. He kissed her asking her how it went? She told him, as they drove away.

John and Mary were able to move into his family home with his father on Wells St. in his hometown of Bridgeport, Connecticut. He took the train to Manhattan commuting everyday to work. Mary took a job at the library, as an assistant librarian.

In August Mary found out she was expecting a child. They were both ecstatic with joy. That was overshadowed by John’s father’s death that winter. It hit him hard, but Mary helped him get through it, his mother having passed away when he was 16. Mary continued to keep in touch with her father, not her mother who refused to acknowledge that she existed at all.

Elizabeth Margaret Reilly was born on May 5, 1911. Mary quit her job to take care of her newborn infant daughter. From the beginning her father worshiped his little granddaughter, calling her a gift from God.

In December 1913 it was John’s turn to console Mary when her father died. Her mother wouldn’t even look at her at the funeral. A short time later her father’s lawyer visited her, informing her that her presence was required for the reading of her father’s will. She knew she was disowned and didn’t care. However, she and John attended the gathering, with her mother sitting on the other side of the room, giving her an inquisitive look as they sat down, with their baby Elizabeth.

The lawyer went through his spiel, saying that her mother would receive twenty million dollars. Then it was onto Mary’s inheritance. Her father left four million dollars to Elizabeth Reilly with her mother Mary as conservator. Her mother shrieked, saying.

I protest! He can’t do that! I will contest the will. That brat won’t get anything! I promise you that! Everyone looked at her in awe, as the lawyer calmly said.

I am afraid this will is legal, and cannot be contested. He thought you might try to do something like that, so he had me make it ironclad. This money was his before you were married, therefore not the property of both of you. I’m afraid it will stand. He left his daughter the family home in Rocky Point, Long Island, also his before the marriage. As you know your father insisted on a prenuptial agreement so each of your assets before the marriage were protected. Her mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. She didn’t speak, stopped by the rage written on her face, as she stormed out.

So the little rich girl, who never knew she was rich, went on with her life, growing up happily, never knowing that tragedy would follow her like a hungry stray dog.

A few years later when I was seven, my mother went to the doctor to find out why she couldn’t conceive another child. She thought nothing about the fact that her breasts were tender to the touch, so she told the doctor about it. It was determined by many tests that she had breast cancer.

She battled hard, as I went through all the stages with her, from hope to desperation. I never stopped praying, asking my father to take me to church on Sundays so I could talk to God directly. I became more and more desperate asking God for a miracle to save my mother. I promised that I would be a good girl and never forget His help if he would just grant me this one request. I promised to never ask for another thing if He would just save my mother.

Nothing worked, as my mother passed into a coma in the hospital, fading away one night, when I was absent, from her side. After that my father couldn’t get me to acknowledge there was a church, or that God ever existed. As far as I was concerned He killed my mother. I repeated to myself over and over. I hate God, and God killed my mother.

I went to school and that was about it. After supper I would go to my room, locking the door and crying myself to sleep. I didn’t know how I was going to survive without my mother. There was a young African American woman named Else that cooked and cleaned our house. She comforted me as best as she could.

Sometimes in school I couldn’t hold back the tears. Some of the other girls would tease me calling, me a crybaby. One such girl, Alison, was in my class. She was extremely cruel to me, taunting me all the time. One day I just couldn’t take it anymore. I slapped her hard across the face, making Alison scream out, and cry hysterically.

The principal was going to expel me, until my best friend Betsy told him what had caused it. So he gave us both a three day suspension. After that Alison steered clear of me. She was sent away to an all girls prep school in New Hampshire after that school year.

I was in my own hell. Crying uncontrollably from time to time, when sadness entered my heart. I knew who to blame, I blamed God. I’d felt that I did everything right, praying so hard, but in the end I was ignored. I would eventually leave most of the sorrow behind, but there was an everlasting effect, which would follow me the remainder of my life. When I felt hurt, all the anger and bitterness would explode as anger, against anyone who I perceived to have hurt me.

CHAPTER II

Growing Pains

That event changed my life forever even though I thought I’d moved past it later. I was only nine years old when my mother passed away. In my young mind I had to blame someone or something for all my pain and suffering, so I placed the blame squarely at God’s feet. I’d thought my mother would survive. When it didn’t happen, I often said to myself, since God was in control, He and He alone let my mother die.

When my father would insist we go to church at Easter and the Christmas Eve services, I always said I hate God, and God killed my mother, before entering the church. Then I would sit through the service, with a scowl on my face, which embarrassed my father. It worked, because my father never asked me to accompany him again.

Time went on, but Liz was visibly an unhappy girl, which distressed her father. However, he’d no idea what to do about it. He was dealing with his own issues of sorrow which made him incapable of properly consoling his daughter. So Else took over the motherly duties, as well as she could. Realizing she could never take her mother’s place, but nevertheless might be able to comfort her some anyway. And could at least help her through her transition from a girl to womanhood, her father approved.

She gave her love, showing she truly cared for her. Along with the fiftyish white woman Mrs. Morrison, who lived next door, and also spent time with, and taught her how to cook, molding the young woman’s character. Gradually her father overcame his grief, so he could become the father he knew he should be. Then Liz and he would do things together, from shopping trips to the city and outings at different places like movies and zoo’s. He also realized that both women needed to be in her life.

I excelled in school, planning to go to UCONN like my father did. I often passed the Stoningham Country Club on the weekends, riding my bicycle. I would daydream of marrying a rich man who belonged to the club. Attending the galas as one of the rich and privileged people. Then reality would set in, and I realized that it was only a dream after all, but it made me feel good at the prospect of it, if even for just a short time.

I’d only one true friend, from kindergarten Betsy. Most of the other girls at school thought I was strange, either ignoring me, or openly harassing me. I was used to it, but at least I had Betts, for which I was grateful. Even though the hate of God faded my mind, as the pain of my mother’s death abated, I still blamed Him.

As my father and I became closer, it helped my perspective. I became less bitter and more like my old self, who was always happy and outgoing. However, I remained obsessed about getting all the way from Wells Street to Stoningham. It also seemed like the shadow of my mother was always with me. I was reminded as I experienced too much joy, that my mother wasn’t with me anymore. Then I would become guilty, sad, and then angry all over again, which would move me to tears.

I experienced all the things a young girl should, with Betsy. As we entered our teens, we went boy crazy. I didn’t trust anyone, except the four people I could count on, Betts, my Dad, Else and Mrs. Morrison. The trouble was even though Betts was my best friend, I couldn’t completely confide in her about how I truly felt, which left me feeling isolated. However, I could confide in Betts with some of the stuff I was dealing with.

Betts was blond with blue eyes, a cute nose, and sparkling eyes, which made her attractive. While I had auburn hair, and bright green eyes, which made me also attractive. Betts had a thin frame with hardly any breasts, while I was a little heavier, with protruding breasts beginning to form.

I was looking forward to a happy future. I felt that because I’d experienced such sorrow when I was younger, that I’d paid my sorrow debt. If I’d known the future, I would have surely committed suicide to avoid it, but I didn’t know, and wouldn’t for many years to come.

Betts was my anchor, and my rock, along with my father. I knew I was sort of a loner, but preferred it that way. People only hurt you, not only by dying and leaving you alone, or hurting you with their evil intent. I didn’t need it, so I was reluctant to open up to people.

When Betts and I were seniors in High School, we’d learned that a new university was going to open up the following year 1928. We were excited, deciding to go there together. As the school year was coming to an end, our grades were posted. Both of us applied to The University of Bridgeport.

Both of us received our acceptance letters, to attend in the fall. That’s when I was given another jolt. It seemed that Betts’ older sister Jane who’d graduated from UCLA out in southern California, along with her father were paying in advance for Betts college tuition. Betts was unaware of this, so when she told her father about receiving an acceptance letter from U of B, he told her about the arrangement he’d planned as a surprise.

Betts was astonished, wanting to go to the U of B with me. There was no way to have the money returned. So either she went, or there was no funds for her to go anywhere else. When she told me, a sadness overcame her as I realized that it was all part of the pattern. I’d decided to attend the U of B anyway. I smiled at Betts saying I was happy for her, and we would see each other when she came home. A look of sadness crossed Betts’ face, as she smiled telling me that I was right.

After all, it was a new beginning for me. I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep, at the loss of Betts. I didn’t blame my friend, knowing she didn’t have any choice. Again I blamed God for it all, telling him He was in charge, so He must have separated us on purpose to torment me. There was no other reason I could think of, for it. It was at that time that I thought that my previous assessment of a happy future might’ve been false. The trouble was that the weight of it was too heavy a burden for me to carry, so I dismissed it from my mind, making the excuse that none of it was connected, and I would think of it another time. However, in the back of my mind, I knew that the assumption of a happy future was probably false.

The remainder of the summer, I tried to go on with my life, as if none of it mattered. I spent as much time at Betts house as I could. After all, I was going to be a college girl, the first step in my plan to get to Stoningham. I rode through the neighborhood of mansions abutting the club, on my bicycle, as I had done countless times before. My imagination ran away with me, as I envisioned my perfect marriage, into this life I desired more than anyone could see.

It was on the latest Saturday afternoon excursion, that Ken Sommars drove by in his pale yellow Packard Coupe-Convertible. He glanced at me, in a dismissive manner. His father was Jonathan Sommars, a high priced attorney, with an office in Manhattan. Ken was everything she wanted. A Sophomore at Yale, who would be following his father’s footsteps into practicing the law. Tall, dark and handsome, with piercing blue eyes.

I knew that they lived in a mansion, and were members of the country club. I began to day dream of Ken Sommars and I together. I knew I’d appeared to be more of a girl than a woman, riding a bicycle and all. I vowed to dress up, and leave the bike at home the following Saturday afternoon, with almost a month remaining of the summer vacation.

All week I daydreamed about Ken Sommars and I together, as husband and wife. I didn’t really know much about him, but that he was rich, handsome, and belonged to the country club set. I felt a little embarrassed as I thought about him sexually. Since I was fifteen, I’d rubbed myself down there from time to time, achieving an orgasm, which made me feel ashamed.

Now I was doing it picturing Ken making love to me.. Now I had a face to put to my imaginary lover. I knew I was becoming obsessed with my infatuation, but it was at a time when I was very vulnerable with the looming loss of Betts. I thought it was a little bit odd that my dream could be coming true now. However I’d reasoned that the trauma I’d experienced already made me believe that my prince charming could be arriving sooner than expected, because I desperately needed him now.

I didn’t think anything could go wrong, if I played my cards right. I thought that if Ken would replace Betts, that it would be a fair bargain. I forced any negativity about Ken out of my mind. I’d heard stories about other girls he’s dated saying he’d treated them shabily. However, this was different, I’d paid my dues, with tragedy in my past, so now I deserved some happiness.

I’d learned that Ken played golf with his dad on Saturday afternoons, at the club golf course. I felt the best way to get him to notice me was to be near the country club, dressed to the nines. I was a full figured woman, who was still learning how to use her looks to snare the right man, in this case it was Ken Sommars.

So I dressed in a low cut white peasant’s blouse to accentuate my figure, with a tight black skirt. My hair was put up in a french twist, which made me look older than my 17 years. I was loitering by the front door, when Ken arrived. He didn’t fail to notice me this time, as he stared at me, giving me a smile, which I returned. He asked me.

Are you waiting for someone? I looked past him, as if looking for someone, who didn’t exist. I looked at my watch, looking annoyed. He placed out his hand, as he said.

Ken Sommars. Can I help you with something? I looked up at him, smiling, as I said.

Apparently I’ve been stood up. He said with a smile.

I’m kind of glad. It gives me a chance to get to know you better. I don’t see how anyone in their right mind could forget about anyone as beautiful as you. I took his extended hand, smiling my most brilliant smile, as he said.

Ken Sommars, at your service.

Liz Reilly, pleased to meet you.

I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before? I think I would have noticed.

That’s because I have never been here before. I was so looking forward to this visit.

Maybe I can be your escort, if you don’t mind a different guy showing you around?

The day was all I’d dreamed it would be. We drank Martini’s, which I kept at a minimum. I’d been told never to get drunk on a date, because men hated drunk women. And I could also let my guard down, and be taken advantage of. So I kept a clear head. He got a little tipsy, but I thought he was kind of funny, when he was into his cups. I jotted down my phone number and name, giving it to him, which he placed in his shirt pocket.

He didn’t play golf like he’d planned on doing. So when his father, a short pudgy, bald man, with gray hair on the sides, dressed with gray slacks and a purple polo shirt came up to us at the bar, he looked at his son with disgust, saying.

Why are you in this condition? He just looked up at his father in puzzlement, saying.

Why not? I am just a chip off the old block. Jono Sommars ignored me, as he motioned to his chauffeur to take Ken to the car. He walked away not looking back at me.

I asked the bartender to call a taxi cab for me, and I went home. I was tickled as to have gotten this far in my quest to marry Ken Sommars. It didn’t matter that his father ignored me. I felt that I was far more appealing than Jono Sommars. In my room I was giddy with joy. I was more determined than ever to be his wife. I knew he liked me also, telling me I was beautiful. I looked at myself in my bureau mirror, assessing my attractiveness, agreeing that I was a beautiful woman, which could lure any red blooded man to desire me.

That night my daydreaming became more vivid, now that I felt that my goal was in sight. I made up my mind that I would submit, just as the grown woman I felt that I was. No way around it, that I was inexperienced. However, what I lacked in experience, I made up for in a willingness to make him happy. I wondered if he would remember my phone number in his shirt pocket. When several days passed without a phone call, I began to wonder if he was ever interested in me at all.

It was the Thursday after that Saturday meeting that he finally called. He apologized for not calling sooner, which didn’t even bother me, as long as he’d finally called. He invited me to his family’s beach house in Westport on Saturday afternoon at three o’clock. I accepted, not wanting to seem too anxious.

That Friday I was visiting Betts’ house, telling her about my date with Ken. Betts told me that she was glad for me, but she’d heard he had a girlfriend of long standing. Her name was Caroll Anne Carruthers, from the department store family, another blue blood from the country club set. She warned me to just be careful, she’d heard Ken Sommars was not to be trusted too far. I angrily told her that I didn’t believe her, and why was she trying to destroy my happiness! Betsy tried to calm me down, ensuring me that she was my friend, and just didn’t want me to make any mistakes. I sarcastically thanked my friend going home.

I dismissed anything negative about Ken. As far as I was concerned, he was my man already. Trouble was just because I felt I had it all together, it wasn’t really so. My situation was fragile, which could be upset by another tragedy, where I felt any loss. My mother’s death still stalked my subconscious, unbeknownst to me.

CHAPTER III

My Tarnished Prince Charming

I didn’t want to seem too eager. On the date to go to their vacation home in Westport, was where I felt I could start to move his parents into my corner. I really thought it would be a family gathering, three weekends before the end of the summer.

When we arrived I didn’t see any other cars