Read A Sudden Light: A Novel for Free Online

They say in the later stages of Alzheimer’s disease, your brain resembles a damp sponge. Dwell on that image for a moment or two.”
    “This is important ,” Grandpa Samuel cried, lifting his face to the ceiling. He finished writing his note and returned to the table.
    “Where were we?” Serena asked, rolling her eyes. “Oh, yes. The question of haunting. Jones, haven’t you had the talk with Trevor?”
    “What is the talk ?” I asked.
    “The talk about states of being, states of awareness. We had the talk around the dinner table nightly when your father and I were young. Our mother lectured us about it incessantly. I mean, there’s so much we don’t know, how can we consider ourselves to know anything at all? Daddy, I really must insist that you eat some chicken.”
    Serena picked up a piece of fried chicken with her tongs and placed it on Grandpa Samuel’s plate. He recoiled and shoved the thigh off his plate onto the tabletop.
    “Is there an entity in this house?” I asked.
    “Define ‘entity,’ ” Serena said. “We must use the proper nomenclature. Terminology can be confusing unless we’re agreed on the definitions.”
    “Knock it off, Serena,” my father growled. “For real. You’re scaring him.”
    “I think Trevor knows more than you’re giving him credit for. He’s the one who asked.”
    Serena stood up and grabbed a box of matches from the counter next to the big, old-fashioned stove. She dropped the box on the table before me and then resumed her seat.
    “There are all sorts of hiding places in this house,” she said. “WhenRiddell House was built there were many things to be afraid of. Not Indians, of course. The Northwest Coast natives were a docile lot, happily trading with each other and white men alike. But there were bandits and thieves who targeted the very rich; they would kidnap and ransom family members when they could. At least that’s what Elijah believed, though he was a noted misanthrope, so grains of salt should be taken as necessary. Nevertheless, this house was designed with secret passages and places to hide so Elijah could feel safe—they call them priest holes, a term held over from the Reformation in England, when Catholics would hide their priests from the Protestant establishment. Do you know what they did when they discovered a priest hiding in the walls during the Reformation?”
    “What did they do?”
    “They hanged him, or they burned him alive. A good hanging has its drama, but there’s nothing like the scent of burning flesh lingering in the air to roust a priest or two from his hidey-hole. I’m sure you can imagine.”
    “Serena,” my father scolded.
    “There’s a secret stairway in Riddell House,” Serena continued without a pause. “I don’t know where. It’s a secret, isn’t it, Jones? A secret you shared with Mother? I was too young to be allowed in on the secret. There’s a hidden stairway, Trevor, and if you find it and strike a match, you will see an apparition in the sudden flash of light. The ghost of Riddell House. But we shouldn’t talk about this; it upsets Daddy. Daddy finds talk of spirits very disturbing. You remember the night Daddy took the ax to the stairs, don’t you, Brother Jones?”
    “I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, exasperated.
    “Perhaps not,” Serena agreed. “And yet you’re here. You came here with some amount of deliberation. You didn’t fall through the floorboards and find yourself at Riddell House. You got on a plane. You checked luggage. You rented a car . . . Daddy, please put your chicken back on your plate and eat it. Eat all of it, tendons included, or else youwill weaken, fall, and break your hip. And studies show that once mobility is diminished by a broken hip, life expectancy is greatly decreased.”
    “I don’t like chicken!” Grandpa bellowed. “I don’t like chicken! I don’t like chicken! I don’t like chicken!”
    Serena calmly put down her knife and