The Darkness of Bones Read Online Free

body.
    The winter wind was squeezing into the leaks of the old house, making him shudder as he pulled a blanket up to his chin. He felt his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier, knowing he could sleep forever, given the chance.
    Eventually, he did sleep, but nightmares came rushing at him like pursuing ghosts—nightmares of all things dark and wicked: of dead mothers and dead crows; of dead bones …

Chapter Four
    “O to be a dragon, a symbol of the power of Heaven – of silkworm size or immense; at times invisible. Felicitous phenomenon!”
    Marianne Moore,
O To Be a Dragon
    A RRIVING HOME FROM work, Jeremiah fixed the key inside the lock, clicking himself into the darkness of the back kitchen. An attempted pot of stew had hardened on the stove, and the greasy aroma rushed to greet his hairy nostrils. It wasn’t appetising, but Jeremiah hoped the contents would be filling.
    Leaving the kitchen, a few minutes later, he went straight to the large living room, clutching the package given to him earlier that day by Harris. Glancing nervously about, he quickly placed the package behind the bookshelf, making sure that the line of books fitted back evenly.
    After washing his hands, he made his way out of the house, on to the vast parcel of land.
    “Judith?” he called into the darkness, knowing his wife was probably in one of the many huge sheds castled on their land. Walking down the serpentine path, he headed for the wooden buildings, passing the three scarecrows stationed together in the neglected apple-tree yard.
    Some of the sheds were Aladdin’s caves of discovery, filledwith diverse collections of items accrued over the years; others were deserted, mere empty husks and skeleton frames of leprosy wood.
    “Judith?” He opened the door of a shed, the one lodging old household utensils. Nothing. Not a sound. Then he remembered: Friday. She’d be in the clothing shed, sorting out the second-hand stuff for tomorrow’s market at Smithfield. Two or more traders would call tomorrow, inspecting the goods, bartering for the best deal possible—bartering with things other than money.
    The clothing shed stood head and shoulders above the cluster of other sheds, towering like a chaperone in the midst of children. But even during the day there was something unwelcoming about it.
    Turning the handle of the door until it gave way, Jeremiah stepped into the large, wooden structure, dull nightlight following directly behind him.
    “Judith?” he called, edging forward, cautiously. A faded orange glow emanated from a single, naked light bulb suspended from the rafters. How his wife could see in such dreadful light was beyond him. But that was how she preferred things: semi-darkness. Even the light in the house was toned down to mere shadows—shadows to help accommodate her needs. A childhood ailment was all she was willing to say, when he first met her. It had taken years for her to confide in him, reveal the real truth.
    “Jud—”
    “
Yessssss?
What
is
it?” hissed a harsh, annoyed voice, lurking somewhere in the semi-darkness.
    “I just got in, a few minutes ago. Do … would you like me to put some coffee on? I brought some buns in from McKenna’s Bakery.”
    Nothing, only a soft whispery squeal coming from the back of the shed.
    “Right, then,” said Jeremiah. “I’ll heat the water. See you shortly?”

    He left, knowing there would be no reply.
    The coffee had practically turned to varnish by the time Jeremiah heard the back door creak open then shut. He could hear Judith move about restlessly, searching for something, slamming cupboards, making the cups rattle in their shelves. He knew what she was seeking, but hoped she wouldn’t find it.
    Less than a minute later, she appeared at the parlour door, her pale face illuminated like a ghost from the light’s fading haze.
    She wore a dove-grey apron over a flowery gypsy dress. The apron was speckled with large blotches the colour of parched clay, and smaller ones