A man approaching middle age sits quietly in a small open space. Over his shoulder is a sturdy farmhouse. Beyond that are small outbuildings. In front of him are two mounds which he thinks are surprisingly small. He has placed oddly shaped stones from the creek at both ends of each mound. He has been a traveler much of his life. When the work of the farm abated, he would pack a small bag and leave. As a child he had “learned his letters” from a traveling monk who stayed on at the farm for a season. When the monk left, he had gone with him. His mother opposed. His father, who had soldiered far and had taken his muster to start a farm as far away from the fighting as he could (came here, married the land, and wooed his mother), favored, so he went. He returned every spring to help prepare the land and see the crops up. He spent the other seasons teaching other farm boys and girls their letters, swapping stories, and telling tales of his travels in exchange for room and board. There was sometimes a wealthier family and a small stipend. But he always returned here. But the two reasons for doing so had now gone on a journey he could not follow. His father had died first, his mother a week later. A lonely heart. It was these two people who brought him back each year, not the farm.

A noise from the house yard got his attention. The chickens were squawking at something. He sighed, got up, brushed the dirt from his hands, and went toward the house.

I am told that readers need a backstory on characters to be able to root for or against  them, to identify or understand.  It an be confusing to give out hints in dribs and drabs as the story progresses, although that creates uncertainty and tension.  Maybe that is a good thing.  But here is a peek into one of the key characters in The Eyes in the Dark.