Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Eighteen

Author's Note: Today I woke up, looked around, and realized that it's time to get out of my horrible customer service job. I can't do this anymore. This place is hell.

I called in sick, and am going to spend the day applying to local teaching jobs and new preschools that are looking to hire post-winter-break employees. I am going to go to the mall, I will by a new interview suit, and I am going to get this train back on track.

...I may also go see Moana again in theaters, since I can see that there is a late showing, and hopefully my applications will all be done by then.

Now, a chapter.

Chapter Eighteen

Somehow, maybe through sheer force of will and his superhuman good luck, Maui got them both to the shore of the island he'd once called home. The cave was still there, as was the giant mark of the fish hook that Maui had created there to declare his ownership of the island.

Maui took a deep, slow breath, then turned to Moana.

"Look," he began, seething, angrier than he could remember having been in years. "What you did out there, that was crazy. You could have been killed! You almost WERE killed. Do you...actually have no self-preservation instinct? You don't act like you've got one. I was pretty sure that self-preservation came built in to most mortals, but I think yours is broken. You might want to get that looked at. Seriously, Moana, I can't...uh...Moana?"

He stopped, because she obviously wasn't listening. Instead, she'd tucked her knees up against her chest and was hugging herself, curled up in a ball, staring bleakly out at the ocean.

"Hey, Moana." Maui let some of the anger drain out of his voice. "Look, I'm not...okay, I am mad, but that's not the point. The point is, we're still alive, right? Nice job, way to stay alive. That's...probably what I meant to say."

He tried to smile, but she still didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Um." Clearing his throat, he tried again. "So, Moana of Motunui, what else you got? We, uh, need a new plan, so I'm ready when you are. Shoot. What's next for great hero Maui and his intrepid teenage sidekick?"

For a moment, Maui didn't think she was going to respond to that either.

"I'm twenty," she said finally, shaking her head.

"Huh? You are?" Maui blinked. "Well, uh, wow, that's...okay, I guess that actually makes sense. Time flies when you're having fun, or something. Anyway, Moana, what are we-?"

"I don't have a plan," she mumbled. "I think...I think we should go home."

Maui's jaw dropped.

There was blood from Maui's talons all across Moana's shoulders, so that the manta rays on her back were stained a dark red. Clumsily, Maui tried to wipe some of the blood off with his fingers, but it was partially dried. He started to reach for the water to help wash it off, but thought better of it at the last second.

"It's not safe for you to be here, so close to Rarohenga," Moana went on quietly. "We...we need to get you back to the island."

After a moment's consideration, Maui decided not to argue.

"All right," he agreed. "That's not a bad idea. We'll get you back to the village, we'll regroup, take a break, and we'll come up with a new plan. Okay?"

Moana didn't' say anything.

"Let's ask your Mom and Dad. They seem like pretty wise village elders," Maui went on. "They'll probably have some ideas, maybe some old stories about explorers from ancient past that'll give us some hints, etcetera...you know the kind of thing."