Smelling Roses: A Tale of Connection and Transformation

By Claudette Dean

Charles Montgomery is an unlikely hero. An eleven year old identical twin, he is torn from his God-fearing family, and institutionalized for his strange pronouncements. On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, he mysteriously disappears, only to return a decade later, transformed.
The heros journey traverses the religious, psychiatry-obsessed 1950s, into the turbulent, revolutionary sixties. It is meshed within a tapestry of human connections interwoven with dark threads of addiction, abuse, and mental illness, and woven with golden threads of compassion, forgiveness, and gratitude. Implied in the title is a scent of mysticism.
Sprinkled with serendipity, and interspersed with lucid dreams, the story hints at unseen forces at play in everyday life, and glows with channeled messages of universal truths illuminating its pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Apr 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781504399401

Claudette Dean

Visual artist, Claudette Dean, now adds fiction to her palette of creative endeavors. From her birthplace in Blind River, Canada, to her home in Freeport, Bahamas, Claudettes journey has been rich with change and full with surprise. Spilling out intuitively from a writers club prompt into a full-blown novel, Smelling Roses is another unexpected gift. For more about Claudette Dean and her work, please visit claudettedean.com.

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Copyright © 2018 Claudette Dean.

Cover Design and Interior Graphics Design: Paula Boyd Farrington

Author Photo: David Mackey

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9939-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9941-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9940-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018902841

Balboa Press rev. date: 04/26/2018

Contents

Prelude 1969

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

About the Author

For all the amazing women who have graced my life, starting with my mother, Irene, and my sister, Rose.

For my children, Donald and De’Shea, who have been my greatest cheerleaders.

And especially for my husband, Donald, whose love, support, and belief in me has meant everything.

The heart is the hub of all sacred places. Go there, and roam.

Bhagawan Nityananda

prelude 1969

The drive has been long, but Charles has managed to remain calm by reading from his book, Magnus Speaks. Now, as he rests with his eyes closed, he contemplates the writings and reflects upon his life.

Magnus said it from the start: no joy without sadness nor pleasure without pain. It’s been a bittersweet ride so far … The separation from Mom, Dad, Peter, and Grandma has been far too bitter, but I know the reunion with them will be equally as sweet.

Though darkness has fallen, and Elizabeth has only been to Mammoth once before, she manages to find the address without disturbing him. After slowly easing in beside the snow bank, she turns off the headlights. The home looks warm and inviting. There’s smoke coming from the chimney, and through the sheers on the front picture window, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkle.

Elizabeth smiles.

Darling, we’ve arrived, she softly announces.

Feeling his heart thump, Charles’s thoughts come to a sudden halt. He takes a long, deep breath before opening his eyes. As memories of that last Christmas spent with his family come flooding back, he looks around through the eyes of the eleven-year-old boy he was then.

I’m home, Elizabeth.

Yes you are, Charles. At long last.

Everything looks so different, he says, continuing to scan the neighborhood.

Don’t forget: it has been sixteen years.

It feels like yesterday.

Do you want to drive around town a bit? she asks, squeezing his hand.

No, it’s already getting late, he replies while checking his watch. After glancing at the house, he mumbles nervously, I just hope I can keep it together when I see my brother. My insides feel like Jell-O.

I know we planned for you to arrive by yourself, but do you want me to come with you now?

After taking a moment to consider her suggestion, he responds, It’s tempting, but it would be awkward.

Suddenly seeming distracted, Elizabeth deliberately inhales. I’m smelling roses, Charles. Can you smell them?

He takes a breath and smiles. Yeah, he whispers. I can.

Be encouraged, she murmurs in his ear.

Their eyes meet, and then he buttons up his peacoat, opens the car door, collects the gifts they have brought with them, and gets out. Upon looking up at the night sky, he sends up a silent thank-you before glancing once again at his brother’s home. Then he looks back at Elizabeth.

Just don’t wait too long to come back.

Don’t worry. I won’t, darling.

She watches as he trudges through the freshly falling snow and makes his way up the steps to the front door, almost slipping on the landing. After steadying himself and collecting the gifts that have fallen, he turns and flashes her the peace sign.

She grins and returns the gesture. As he knocks on the door, her stomach does a flip-flop in simpatico. She considers waiting until someone answers, but after a few moments, Charles signals for her to go ahead. She gives him a thumbs-up, turns the car around, and heads to the motel.

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Rena lingers at the bar as she pours her husband’s drink. Now that he’s home, she wonders whether she’ll be able to stick to her plan of waiting until Christmas Eve to surprise him.

A penny for your thoughts, says Peter, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Oh, Peter … She hesitates. I’ve missed you, that’s all. After resting the glass on the counter, she turns to face him. I can’t stand it when you’re away on business.

He nuzzles her neck and takes a long, luxurious breath. Mmm … You smell delicious. I’ve missed you too, he says, drawing her near, in case you haven’t noticed.

From the stereo, a favorite Beatles tune wafts through the pine-scented air.

They’re playing our song, she coos, throwing her arms around his neck.

He draws her closer, and they move together to the music. With ragged breath, Peter hums something in her ear.

Bathed in the soft glow of Christmas tree lights, husband and wife slow dance to the groove of their special song.

Caught up in each other’s vibe, their purple haze is pierced by a soft knock, knock, knock at the front door.

Peter quits humming, and they both stop to listen … Nothing. Then through the sheers behind the Christmas tree, they notice the headlights of a car obviously pulling away from the curb.

Nothing important, mumbles Rena, trying not to disturb the vibe.

They continue dancing, but Rena feels Peter’s distraction. Just as the song is finishing, she cradles his face in her hands and dusts his lips with the slightest tease of a kiss.

Now, how ’bout I kiss you properly? he murmurs in response.

How ’bout you do? she murmurs back.

Peter is about to get serious when there’s another louder, more insistent knocking.

He stops and stares at Rena with the strangest expression in his eyes. Then he abruptly pulls away.

What is it, Peter? You’re scaring me.

I just had the freakiest feeling.

What do you mean?

Knock, knock, knock.

I’m not sure, he mumbles, heading toward the front door.

Slightly alarmed, Rena peeks down the entrance hallway just as Peter yanks open the door, and all of the color drains from his face.

chapter 1

Good morning, students. As all of you know, this will be our last religious studies class before you leave later today for Christmas vacation.

The spontaneous cheers erupting from the back of the classroom are quickly stifled as the teacher eyes the obvious culprits. Sister Ann picks up where she left off and continues her walk around the seventh grade classroom while handing out sheets of colored construction paper.

As your assignment, I have something a little different in mind. I’m asking each of you to write something you know for sure is true.

Interrupted once again, this time by muffled whispers and giggles, she stops and casts an ominous look around her classroom. Be warned that this is a religious studies assignment. I remind all of you of the inspiration to be found in your catechism.

After waiting a few seconds for complete silence, she continues with her instructions.

At the end of the day, each of you will have to share what you have written with the rest of the class. Over Christmas break, I shall select twelve statements and pair each one with an appropriate apostle. I will then display them around the classroom as monthly inspirations for the New Year. She cups her right ear. And what year will that be?

1953! chants the class in unison. The giddy anticipation of Christmas vacation is evident in their voices.

It’s going to be a long day, thinks Sister Ann as she continues her stroll up and down the aisles.

And don’t be afraid to be creative with your presentation, she adds. It will be factored in when I make my final selection.

In the classroom, the desks are arranged two by two, with one girl and one boy at each. Rena Kapoor sits next to Charles Montgomery.

Rena is surprised to note that Charles, who is always a bit of a daydreamer, has straightened up in his seat and begun working almost as soon as he received his two sheets of construction paper.

She focuses in on the assignment and puts on her thinking cap. I know for sure I’m happy I don’t have to go to school for the next two weeks, but I don’t think Sister will find that very inspirational.

Having been exposed to other types of spirituality by way of her heritage, Rena has always been intrigued with the symbolism embedded in various religions. In her mind, she shuffles through the Catholic symbolism file, stopping at the sign of the cross.

I’m certain the sign of the cross represents the three aspects of the Holy Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Sister Ann will like it for sure.

After carefully transcribing her quote into the shape of a cross on her pink construction paper, she attempts to peek at what Charles has come up with. She catches him glancing sideways at her sheet. He turns and with vacant eyes stares directly at her. It catches her off guard, but what comes out of his mouth is even more surprising.

In the light of expanded consciousness, we offer the following insight: It is a certainty that God is in you and all around you. You are to God as a single drop is to the ocean, and you are the entire ocean in a single drop.

Although Charles is known to be peculiar at times, he now looks and sounds possessed.

Charles! she whispers harshly, elbowing him on his right side.

All is in divine order. And so it is, concludes Charles.

After rubbing his eyes as if he were just waking up, he seems oblivious to the fact Rena has just elbowed him.

She stares as he picks up a pencil crayon to start writing. Surprise and confusion are written all over his face when he sees something already formulated on his sheet. He reads it under his breath. It is a certainty that God is in … Did you do this? he asks, turning sharply to Rena.

Yeah, right, she replies with a smirk on her face.

I bet you did. He searches her eyes.

She nervously indicates the teacher is coming back down their aisle.

On the sheet in front of him, Charles admires the quote placed inside a perfectly shaped water droplet. It’s beautiful, he mumbles.

It is, but unless you can show Sister where it’s written in the catechism, Rena says as she motions again to warn of the teacher’s proximity, I’d tear it up fast. Refocusing her attention, she picks up her light-blue pencil crayon and gets busy coloring in the negative space around the cross she has formed with her words.

What a shame, mumbles Charles before he shreds the sheet into tiny pieces.

He pulls out a second yellow one and, after a few short moments, begins writing as neatly as he possibly can. I know for sure the Holy Trinity represents God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. He thinks it very clever when he dots each i with a tiny cross in a contrasting color.

Behind them, the teacher has stopped to admire Amanda Campbell’s creation. Charles takes the opportunity to show off his handiwork and discretely gives Rena a nudge.

She can’t believe her eyes. You’d better stop messing around, Charles! You know that’s way too close to what I wrote.

Girls. You can never figure them out, he mumbles. I don’t even know what she wrote.

Rena doesn’t quite know what to make of Charles’s behavior, but she knows she will be the one accused of copying, not him. She manages to tear up her sheet just as Sister Ann’s robes swish by her desk. The teacher nods and smiles at Charles, obviously pleased with what she sees on his sheet.

Phew! That was close, thinks Rena. God is in you and all around you. Hum!

She has no idea where Charles got them from, but his words have stirred something in her. She pulls out her second pink sheet, throws caution to the wind, and begins transcribing her new quote.

The rest of the day drags by until last period finally rolls around, and Sister makes an announcement.

It’s time now for each of you to stand and read the quote you were asked to write in religious studies class this morning. When you are finished reading, please rest your sheets on my desk in two piles, one for girls and one for boys.

When it appears that all of the students are settled and ready with their sheets on their desktop, she nods to Tommy Burke to stand. As the class clown, he has the choice spot up front near her desk.

Trying not to giggle, he shares his quote. I know for sure boys are more important than girls because God sent a son down to earth at Christmas, not a daughter.

He holds his paper up for everyone to see. At the end of the quote, he has drawn a stick figure boy with a halo, and next to him is a stick figure girl with an X over her. Some of the boys clap and cheer while the girls roll their eyes and some stick out their tongues.

In the middle of the clamor, and before Sister Ann can bring order to the classroom, Charles gets up out of his seat. He has such a presence about him that the room goes instantly quiet. His vacant expression wipes the grin right off Tommy’s face. In the same mature voice Rena first heard earlier that day, Charles speaks.

Energy is energy. On the earth plane, which is dualistic in nature, energy is distinguished as either masculine or feminine. Although each serves different purposes, both are of equal value. In reference to your statement, the feminine is indeed represented as an equal aspect of God, by what your doctrine refers to as the Holy Spirit. All is in divine order. And so it is.

After taking his seat, Charles puts his head down on his desk and rubs his eyes.

Across the aisle, his identical twin brother, Peter, sits with his mouth agape. He and Rena exchange glances as a collective gasp goes around the room.

The teacher looks astonished before quickly composing herself. Charles’s posture and behavior are so unusual that she is more concerned with his physical state than with his statement. She approaches his desk and gently touches his head.

Oh, is it my turn? he asks. After jumping up with his paper in hand, he reads. I know for sure the Holy Trinity represents God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

Don’t you mean ‘and God the Daughter’? snickers Tommy Burke under his breath.

There are some nervous giggles, but mostly everyone just waits for Sister Ann to take the lead.

Trying hard not to seem rattled, and reassured that Charles now seems normal, she scans his face intently for a moment, raises an eyebrow, and reluctantly decides to keep the ball rolling. She throws Tommy an I’ll deal with you later look and then nods toward Rena to go next.

Rena’s hand trembles as she holds her construction paper directly in front of her face.

I know for sure sometimes things happen to make us question the things we thought we knew for sure.

As another collective gasp goes around the room, Rena peeks over her sheet at the teacher.

Sister Ann grimaces and comes storming toward her, snatching the paper right out of her hand as if she doesn’t believe what Rena has just read is what she has actually written down. But there it is, beautifully transcribed into the shape of a violet question mark. The dot is perfectly drawn and colored in as a golden water droplet, with a violet heart at its center.

Before Sister can help it, her face says, Wow! Then it abruptly turns into a scowl. She asks, What does this have to do with religious studies?

Rena, unable to find her voice, swallows hard.

Charles, both dazed and confused, is speechless.

There is a pregnant pause.

The two of you are very fortunate we are about to leave for Christmas vacation. And that goes for you too, Tommy Burke!

She glares at Tommy, then at Charles and Rena. One can hear a pin drop in the classroom.

You two, rest your papers on my desk as instructed.

Rena and Charles quickly do as they are told.

You, Tommy Burke, will stay after class until you manage to come up with an appropriate quote. And after that, you will kneel in the corner and say three complete rosaries, perhaps by praying to the Virgin Mary, she will remind you of the importance of womanhood.

Tommy bites his lip as several of his friends snicker.

Would all of you like to stay back as well? Sister Ann’s voice is threatening as she glares at the guilty boys. They instantly sober up. That’s what I thought, she says.

After glaring at them for a few seconds longer, she then motions for the teacher’s pet, Amanda Campbell, to go next.