Light from Distant Stars by Shawn Smucker


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Light from Distant

Light from Distant Stars by Shawn Smucker
English | 2019 | General Fiction | ePUB | 15.4 Mb

Light from Distant : When Cohen Marah steps over the body of his dead father on a cold spring morning, he steps into a labyrinth of memory. In the week that follows, he must confront his traumatic past, a violent present, and the most frightening question of all—did he kill his father?

Over the next week, Cohen’s childhood memories come back in living color. The dramatic events that led to his father being asked to leave his pastoral position. The game of baseball that somehow kept them together. And the two children in the forest who became his friends–and enlisted him in a dark and dangerous undertaking. As the lines blur between what was real and what was imaginary, Cohen is faced with the question he’s been avoiding: Did he kill his father?

“Emotion catches him again, and his eyes well. He will never see his father again, not his smile or the tired lines of his face or his strong hands flexing away some phantom pain. Cohen wipes his eyes and clears his throat.

Outside, the city streets are quiet. It’s a small, vibrant city, drifting from north to south, down toward the river. It’s a quiet place in the middle of the afternoon before the children are released from school. It’s a green city, cement and macadam and asphalt sharing space with sycamores and oaks and maples.

Cohen feels better. It’s easy to begin to pretend he has not yet seen the body of his father when he is standing under that sky stretched tight, a sheet once white but now washed into a shade of gray. The early spring day carries a bite of winter that awakens him to his life. The air smells one moment of warm, earthy spring and the next of low, frozen, gray clouds. The air sneaks in around the edges of his overcoat, soaking in through his thin, worn suit, and he wonders if he has time to run home and change before going to his nephew’s baseball game.

He looks at his watch. He doesn’t have time. He remembers the blood on his index finger. He scans his suit, his coat, anywhere he might have accidentally rubbed his finger, anywhere he might have marked himself with his father’s blood, but he doesn’t see anything.”

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