Read snippets from One Red Thread

In the beginning, Eddy encounters Walter Lee, who he'd thought was long since dead.
 
The yard man lived outside town, down by the river, and every spring he’d bring his mule to plow the garden. He seemed very old, graying like the whiskers on his mule, deeply wrinkled and burned by the sun, and when he came I always followed. I walked the furrows behind him in my bare feet, breaking the clods that the plow left whole.
In his old neighborhood, Eddy finds that memory is not the same as seeing the past. 

 

“Oh, wow!” I found myself whispering as I leaned my elbows on the hood of my old truck and stared off down the street. “A convertible.” I was ready for the past to appear.

After childhood tragedy, Eddy is drawn to a seemingly happier time in family history.

 

I was in that safe zone before my birth, and I figured the best thing to do was simply enjoy what I was seeing and hearing and learning. I just had to be careful. I backed up and stood as inconspicuously as I could, leaning against a porch column and scanning the crowd….

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