The Lord Works In Mysterious Ways

By Carol Clewley

This is a true story of two members from the Colorado Springs High School Class of 1958, who, ironically, meet again at age 58. Although they each married and divorced other mates, their history and lives had many parallels. The author draws upon all of her life’s experiences, including surviving a grave illness, lessons learned from her parents and pets, plus extreme heartbreak, to help a man realize the value of his family. The story is laced with frugality, riches, perseverance, radical behaviors, extreme trust, memories, compassion, and faith. It will hold the interests of Protestants, Jews, social workers, pet lovers, parents, married couples, divorcees, construction crews, doctors, lawyers, and bankers. The ending reveals the extremely greedless goodness of two people who loved each other more than their own selfish interests.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol Clewley
• Release date: Dec 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465817464

Carol Clewley

I was born and raised in Colorado Springs, CO, and survived in spite of what life dealt me. I was a civil service employee at HQ NORAD for 37 years. My life has never been dull or normal; people always told me, "You need to write a book," and so I did.

Book preview

ENDORSEMENT

I was thrilled to have the opportunity to dramatize this unique story for the Butte Theater’s 2011 Valentines program.

Morgan Gengo, Manager, Butte Theater, Cripple Creek, CO

THE LORD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

By Carol Clewley

Carol, October 2003

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Carol Clewley

Smashwords Edition License

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

PREFACE

Although this is a true story, names and a few locations have been changed to ensure privacy of the characters.

The author apologizes for the obscene language included in some chapters, but felt it necessary to illustrate the main character’s caustic and bitter personality.

CONTENTS

Chapter

1 – The Phone Call

2 – Our Past Lives

3 – Breaking Through the Thick Shell

4 – Twisted Sister

5 – The Trial

6 – Choices, Dreams, and Tragedy

7 – The Engagement and Wedding Plans

8 – I’ll Pass

9 – The Dream House Begins

10 – Family and House Building

11 – God’s Will

12 – Moving In

13 – Facing Mortality

14 – Alone

15 – ...and a little child shall lead them.

16 – The Price

The Lord Works In Mysterious Ways

By Carol Clewley

Chapter 1 - The Phone Call

Little did I realize that painting a watercolor of my hopes and dreams in 7th grade would set my destiny. I cannot explain the outcome of this story in any other way except it was God‘s plan.

A lifetime of forty-six years had passed since that spring day in 1952 at North Junior High School in Mr. Simpich’s art class.

Fast forward to October 1998. I’d just finished raking a mountain of leaves in my front yard. It was one of those Indian Summer, sparkling, warm, fall afternoons in Colorado. Clutching a glass of ice water, I sat down on the steps to relax, but was abruptly interrupted by a ringing phone.

Hello, this is Jim Bernstein, Marlon’s cousin--our fathers were brothers. I think you were at his dad’s funeral two years ago. I vaguely remembered seeing a balding guy wearing glasses at Marlon’s house after the services.

My wife left me in August. I need someone to come over on Friday night with a suitcase and ring my doorbell. My neighbors watch everything I do, and I’m hoping they will tell her and she’ll come back. Marlon said you were always a good sport. He was sure you’d do it. I’ll pay you.

Oh yeah, I thought to myself, here we go again, another weird thing in my life. It is no picnic dating again after a divorce, and the bizarre episodes just keep on coming--even if you’re in your fifties.

Sure, I replied, I’ll do it. I felt that way myself once. Would have given anything to try to jolt my ex-husband into coming back. I understand totally, but you don’t have to pay me. Where do you live and what time on Friday?

Great! If you won’t let me pay you, then I’ll take you out for dinner sometime later on, OK? I live about seven or eight blocks from you, on Puma Street, a short street off of Comanche Road. It’s the one with the dump truck out front. See you around 5 p.m.

Introduced to Marlon by one of my brothers, I had dated him about twelve years ago, and then we each married someone else. It was my second marriage, which only lasted two years, and I’d been alone since then. Marlon and his wife were still casual friends of my family. We had all grown up in Colorado Springs when it was a small town; in fact, my parents, aunts and uncles, all born and raised in Colorado Springs, had been casual acquaintances of the Bernstein family since the 1920’s. In the 1950’s and 60’s, my dad’s laundry business was only a block away from Jim’s and Marlon’s fathers’ scrap metal yard.

At 5 p.m. on Friday evening, suitcase in hand, I rang the bell of a modest brick house. A tall, clean-shaven, lean stranger wearing glasses came out; the top of his head was mostly bald with little tufts of dark brown hair sticking up on the sides. He quickly said hello, then leaned me back and planted a long, passionate kiss on me. Drapes across the street parted, faces pressed to glass. Another kiss and I dropped the suitcase.

In the kitchen, we rediscovered our long-forgotten backgrounds. We were both born in Colorado Springs, forty days apart, and had attended the same schools since age twelve in junior high school. Time had erased most of our memories of ever meeting before now. We graduated from Colorado Springs High School in a class of over six hundred students in 1958. He played football and I was in the pep club. He dated the popular girls and I was a nobody waiting for Elvis in my poodle skirt, brown and white (our school colors) saddle shoes, and ponytail. I dimly remembered a scrawny, crew-cut kid with glasses named Jim who was about as dorky-looking as I was then. He admitted he had never noticed me. In high school, I looked like a walking stick (98 pounds and 5’ 7" tall), all legs and arms with no signs of ever becoming a woman. In fact, I did not look my age for years, having to prove I was 21 until I was 44 years old!

Chapter 2 - Our Past Lives

The following Friday, at dinner, Jim said, Well, the neighbors told my ex that I had company last week, and she said she could care less. So let’s just enjoy the evening.

Over a glass of wine, we two 58 year-olds from the Class of ‘58 brought each other up to date on our pasts since high school and reminisced about the many changes Colorado Springs had seen in the 40 years since we were classmates.

Do you remember where the original Guiseppi’s Pizza was? I asked.

Oh yes, down on south Cascade. I used to hear of many great times there in the 50’s, but I was always working." Jim replied.

In your wildest dreams, would you have ever imagined motorcycles in the formal Gray Rose window where those gorgeous wedding gowns were displayed? I went on, That is definitely a crime against nature!

Then Jim told me about his past, Judy Kay and I were married for 33 years and we had three sons and a daughter. My wife was a nurse and worked with handicapped children, besides raising our four. (I am thinking she was a saint!)

Jim continued describing his workaholic lifestyle, up at 3 a.m., driving loads of scrap metal to Denver, making numerous trips all day long, filling up the coffers of his family’s business. Night after night, he came home dead tired with no life left in him for his family--too exhausted to do anything but eat, yell at the kids, and fall asleep until 3 a.m. to start all over again. They argued over disciplining their children and finances because he believed his kids should be raised as he was, all work, no play, and money spent only on necessities. All of his life he had worked so hard, and now all of his life was gone.

So what about you? he asked.

"I took an early retirement offer from Civil Service three years ago and am trying to enjoy life now. I married twice, first to a dreamy man I worshipped and adored for almost nineteen years. We weren’t able to have children--Matt thought he was sterile but refused to undergo any tests. So I convinced myself our lives were wonderful anyway, full of skiing, 4-wheeling, camping, ice racing jeeps on frozen mountain lakes, romantic dinner-dancing dates, traveling, and passionate love-making. Our close, wonderful marriage was the envy of all who knew us. I was always warm and happy with an inner joy--I could stand outside in freezing weather and still glow inside; I always felt an internal fire of pure love for this man. I couldn’t wait to get home from my job with hundreds of military men to be with the light of my life. Sometimes, I even feared I would die and miss it all.

"We never had a bad day until the day Matt said to me, ‘You work so hard all the time; you should take a nice trip with your mother somewhere. Why not go to see your aunt in Los Angeles?’ With tears in my eyes, I cried that I would not enjoy going anywhere without him, but he insisted, ‘We’re never apart--it will do us both good.’ He kissed me goodbye, said he loved me so much, and to have a good time.

"While I was gone, Matt moved in with a married woman who worked in his office at the Air Force Academy. She evidently sent her husband somewhere too. I had no warning, no idea, no clue that Matt was ever unhappy. The only explanation he gave me was, ‘While you were gone with your mother, God told me in the night in bed (whose bed?) to leave you.’"

Did he divorce you right away? Jim asked.

"Of course. I was totally shocked to find out he had already done the paperwork at a lawyer’s office! I offered to wait a year while Matt lived with the woman to see if she was who he really wanted, and he laughed at me. At the divorce hearing, I asked for nothing. I just wanted to die. The judge could see it was a sordid triangle, but Colorado law says divorce is ‘no fault,’ with fifty-fifty property division. I barely heard the decision that our house was to be sold and the proceeds divided, that Matt got four of our five vehicles, along with two motorcycles and a travel trailer, while I was given our mountain land of forty-five acres and one fifteen-year old car. Matt then immediately married the