Read Online The Book of Lost Fragrances: A Novel of Suspense by M. J. Rose - Free Book Online
Authors: M. J. Rose
Ads: Link
striding to greet him.
The two men embraced, French style, kissing each other on both cheeks.
The first summer that Jac and Griffin were together, he’d come with her to their grandmother’s house in Grasse. Robbie, who was thirteen at the time, had been in awe of the nineteen-year-old American who knew so much about the archaeological history of the area. The three of them hiked to dozens of ancient Roman sites, exploring the ruins and remnants of the past. Through the legends that Griffin recounted about the twelfth- and thirteenth-century Cathars who’d lived in those hills until being exterminated during the Inquisition, the younger boy had first discovered the idea of reincarnation. This, in time, would lead him to Buddhism and change his life.
Robbie inspected his friend. The hair that fell in waves across Griffin’s face was still thick but shot through with silver, and there were laugh lines in the corners of his mouth, but the explorer’s gray-blue eyes were as inquisitive as ever.
The Lama Yeshe, with whom Robbie studied Buddhism, had once said that self-confidence is not a feeling of superiority but of independence. Griffin had always seemed intelligent without being condescending and self-confident without being arrogant.
Robbie knew it was because nothing had come easily for his friend. When Griffin was a high school junior, his father, an inveterate gambler, disappeared for the last time. All he left behind were bills and a second mortgage his wife’s job couldn’t cover. Griffin worked his way through college and then grad school to become an archaeologist. His grief hardened into determination, his loneliness into energy. Every discovery, every new idea separated him further from his father’s fate.
“It’s been way too long,” Griffin said. He led his friend down a hallway lit by stained-glass wall sconces. “At least six years, I think.”
“Nine years. You need to visit Paris more often.”
“There’s no doubt about that. I work too much.”
“Too much brain at the expense of the soul?”
Robbie worried that was his sister’s problem, too. When he looked at his fellow students of zazen, or sitting meditation, and the lamas he knew, they seemed to be able to acknowledge the world’s deficiencies and sufferings but still hold on to their younger selves’ sense of delight. Fatigue didn’t affect you quite the same way when you lived mindfully.
“I’m dealing with much more practical problems. Private school costs a fortune. Not to mention divorce lawyers.”
“Divorce?” Robbie put his arm out and stopped Griffin. They were standing in a pool of warm light, and he could see sadness in his friend’s eyes. “So then it is your soul. I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”
“No, as a matter of fact, we’re not. We got pretty deep into it legally, but we were both too upset about our daughter and what it was doing to her, so we decided to give it a few months more before signing the papers. There’s no acrimony. There’s just stasis. While I’m here, I’m living downstairs in the studio apartment we used to rent out.”
“When do you go back to the dig in Egypt?”
“Not till the fall.”
Since getting his degree, Griffin had been working at a dig 186 kilometers west of Alexandria, searching for Cleopatra’s and Marc Antony’s tombs. He’d also published a book, and he taught at New York University each fall. Because of the separation, he’d decided to delay his return to Egypt and for the next few months was working at the Phoenix Foundation’s library, researching the origins of reincarnation theory in ancient Greece.
While Egyptians believed in the afterlife, they didn’t accept that the dead returned to earth. And yet hieroglyphics found at the site outside of Alexandria suggested the Greeks’ notion of soul transmigration had taken hold in Egypt during the Ptolemaic period. Griffin was trying to chart how the philosophy might have developed and affected
The two men embraced, French style, kissing each other on both cheeks.
The first summer that Jac and Griffin were together, he’d come with her to their grandmother’s house in Grasse. Robbie, who was thirteen at the time, had been in awe of the nineteen-year-old American who knew so much about the archaeological history of the area. The three of them hiked to dozens of ancient Roman sites, exploring the ruins and remnants of the past. Through the legends that Griffin recounted about the twelfth- and thirteenth-century Cathars who’d lived in those hills until being exterminated during the Inquisition, the younger boy had first discovered the idea of reincarnation. This, in time, would lead him to Buddhism and change his life.
Robbie inspected his friend. The hair that fell in waves across Griffin’s face was still thick but shot through with silver, and there were laugh lines in the corners of his mouth, but the explorer’s gray-blue eyes were as inquisitive as ever.
The Lama Yeshe, with whom Robbie studied Buddhism, had once said that self-confidence is not a feeling of superiority but of independence. Griffin had always seemed intelligent without being condescending and self-confident without being arrogant.
Robbie knew it was because nothing had come easily for his friend. When Griffin was a high school junior, his father, an inveterate gambler, disappeared for the last time. All he left behind were bills and a second mortgage his wife’s job couldn’t cover. Griffin worked his way through college and then grad school to become an archaeologist. His grief hardened into determination, his loneliness into energy. Every discovery, every new idea separated him further from his father’s fate.
“It’s been way too long,” Griffin said. He led his friend down a hallway lit by stained-glass wall sconces. “At least six years, I think.”
“Nine years. You need to visit Paris more often.”
“There’s no doubt about that. I work too much.”
“Too much brain at the expense of the soul?”
Robbie worried that was his sister’s problem, too. When he looked at his fellow students of zazen, or sitting meditation, and the lamas he knew, they seemed to be able to acknowledge the world’s deficiencies and sufferings but still hold on to their younger selves’ sense of delight. Fatigue didn’t affect you quite the same way when you lived mindfully.
“I’m dealing with much more practical problems. Private school costs a fortune. Not to mention divorce lawyers.”
“Divorce?” Robbie put his arm out and stopped Griffin. They were standing in a pool of warm light, and he could see sadness in his friend’s eyes. “So then it is your soul. I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”
“No, as a matter of fact, we’re not. We got pretty deep into it legally, but we were both too upset about our daughter and what it was doing to her, so we decided to give it a few months more before signing the papers. There’s no acrimony. There’s just stasis. While I’m here, I’m living downstairs in the studio apartment we used to rent out.”
“When do you go back to the dig in Egypt?”
“Not till the fall.”
Since getting his degree, Griffin had been working at a dig 186 kilometers west of Alexandria, searching for Cleopatra’s and Marc Antony’s tombs. He’d also published a book, and he taught at New York University each fall. Because of the separation, he’d decided to delay his return to Egypt and for the next few months was working at the Phoenix Foundation’s library, researching the origins of reincarnation theory in ancient Greece.
While Egyptians believed in the afterlife, they didn’t accept that the dead returned to earth. And yet hieroglyphics found at the site outside of Alexandria suggested the Greeks’ notion of soul transmigration had taken hold in Egypt during the Ptolemaic period. Griffin was trying to chart how the philosophy might have developed and affected
Similar Books
