Join The Conversation With Mishpacha's Weekly Newsletter

What the Shadows Bring

Yered Haber

In a rush of cold air and glass, the kitchen window fountained into the room. The baby! Suri dropped the spoon of applesauce. A goose’s head plunged through the flashing shards. Broad wings and body slammed into the pane with a solid, fleshy thud, filling the window and casting the kitchen into sudden darkness.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

abstract shadowFor a long second it was just her and the goose; her and an eye that held no light, no glistening reflection, only an absolute and intelligent blackness. The baby was gone, the glass was gone, the room was gone. The torn mouth opened slightly and revealed a long strip of pink tongue. The mouth opened wider …

… then the head shifted and with it that dark eye and their locked gaze broke. The moment was gone. The baby howled and the world thundered back into place, kitchen all sharp lines and yellow light.

Suri’s hand shot up toward the window, but gravity asserted itself before she made contact. The goose’s heavy bulk dropped away from the windowsill. The neck whiplashed as it snaked out and the bird’s head slapped against the jagged edges of glass. Then Suri was up and at the window, and she saw the dappled black-and-white form crumpled on the strip of dirt between bushes and apartment building.

Its wings were stretched to their full and its neck was curved. It looked beautiful, a painting, but lay very still. It looked dead.

The baby sobbed and Suri brushed at his head and face with trembling fingers. There was no trace of glass. She checked her turtleneck and skirt. They were untouched. Quickly, she unbuckled her baby and lifted him from his highchair. She ran down the hall, pulling her coat out of the closet as she went by, and wrapping it around the baby.

She threw open the front door and rushed down the steps. Turning left, she pressed into the bushes. Bony twigs scratched and skittered at her skirt. Then she was through.


 To read the rest of this story, please buy this issue of Mishpacha. To sign up for a weekly subscription click here.

Share this page with a friend. Fill in the information below, and we'll email your friend a link to this page on your behalf.

Your name
Your email address
You friend's name
Your friend's email address
Please type the characters you see in the image into the box provided.

The Fortunes of War
Rabbi Moshe Grylak We’re still feeling the fallout of the First World War
Some Lessons, But Few Portents
Yonoson Rosenblum What the midterms tell us about 2020
Vote of Confidence
Eyan Kobre Why I tuned in to the liberal radio station
5 out of 10
Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin Top 5 Moments of the Kinus
Day in the Life
Rachel Bachrach Chaim White of KC Kosher Co-op
When Less is More
Rabbi Ron Yitzchok Eisenman How a good edit enhances a manuscript
It’s My Job
Jacob L. Freedman “Will you force me to take meds?”
They’re Still Playing My Song?
Riki Goldstein Yitzy Bald’s Yerav Na
Yisroel Werdyger Can’t Stop Singing
Riki Goldstein Ahrele Samet’s Loi Luni
Double Chords of Hope
Riki Goldstein You never know how far your music can go
Will Dedi Have the Last Laugh?
Dovid N. Golding Dedi and Ding go way back
Battle of the Budge
Faigy Peritzman Using stubbornness to grow in ruchniyus
The Challenging Child
Sarah Chana Radcliffe Strategies for raising the difficult child
Bucking the Trend
Sara Eisemann If I skip sem, will I get a good shidduch?
The Musician: Part 1
D. Himy, M.S. CCC-SLP and Zivia Reischer "If she can't read she'll be handicapped for life!"