HOLES IN THE FABRIC: Bk 1 The Weaver Prophecy

Chapter 4: The Door of Darkness.

It had been a month. 

Moana sat in the darkness, numb with pain. The dark, heavy drapes were sewn closed with giant jagged hand stitching to keep the light out. Outside the house, the world was dark and cold, the sun had not yet risen.

She sat on her disheveled bed with Ezzy's soft toys strewn around her. She shook Mr. Hippo, but his laughing box had died and now only a rattle remained in his chest. Bobo Bunny's pink velvet ear had been gnawed bald and Daisy dog's smile was peeling off. Moana flicked on the dim bedside lamp and searched fervently through side table, until she found the large needle and black thread- the same ones she used for the drapes. Pleased with her find, she picked up Daisy and sewed her smile back on. When she had finished, she tied the thread into a knot.

"It's alright Daisy. I'll look after you. I promise. You stay here with me, its safe here. Isn't it Daisy? Woof woof." She put Daisy beside her and picked up the bunny, hugging him to her face. "See, Bobo thinks so too."

Moana snuggled Bobo in beside Daisy, then ran her fingers through her hair. They snagged on a knot, one of many. She threw herself backwards onto the bed, rolled over and rubbed her face into Ezzy's dancing teddy bear pillowcases, unwashed since she went missing. Moana hugged her daughter's pillow and inhaled her scent. Closing her eyes she imagined her daughter standing before her.

The bedroom door opened a little and Max peered into the dimly lit room.

"I'm going to work now. Try and see if you can get up for a bit today. Watch some television or something. Don't just sit there...Moana...Did you hear me?

No answer. He left.

Moana didn't like looking at the pain in Max's face; it made hers feel sharper somehow- so she had simply stopped looking at him. She always avoided his eyes- they were deep pits of despair. Couldn't see them in the dark though. Moana looked at her sewed curtains. That fixed it. Moana couldn't leave the house- Ezzy's things were here. What if someone took those too? She didn't like to leave the room but sometimes she had to eat, when the gnawing in her stomach was too much.

Lurking about the edge of her mind was a small tinge of hope, but like Ezzy's christening cup it was growing tarnished by the day. She picked up the blackened chalice that sat amongst a collection of Ezzy's belongings piled up on the dusty bedside drawers and polished it furiously with her shirt. Maybe Ezzy would be found. They would both be found in some little hut somewhere playing out the Maori stories like they loved to... Maybe they would escape from wherever they had been kept hostage, the Police would find them and the monster who took them would be punished. Maybe some childless couple was caring for them and decided to return them. Fuck. The tarnish wouldn't come off. She closed her eyes and welcomed the blackness she found there.

+++

The sun rose, the sun set. Eventually Moana stopped counting the days. One day blended into the other. One morning, Moana heard footsteps on the path to their door. She hesitated, then peeled herself off the bed, put her ear to the bedroom door and listened. Max answered the front door.

"Come in," she heard Max say. Damn. She didn't want visitors. He should know better than that.

"Moana, Sam and Laura are here," he yelled to her, as if she was deaf. She stayed where she was.

"We need to decide what we are going to do next." It was her brother Sam's voice.

"They aren't doing enough. I suggest we hire some private searchers. Maybe a private detective. See what they can find. What's been overlooked," Laura spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth.