How to Catch the Lost Ones by Elisha Oluyemi
The mother eases the house door shut behind her and, eyes staring blankly at the main gate, trudges on, each weary step pulling the dark of night along like heavy shackles. The night is colder than usual tonight.
She feels dew drops drift down her arms. She shivers. She pauses. She eases a gaze up into the silver-streaked skies, particularly at the full moon which always seemed to house a frail woman cradling her baby. She blinks rapidly, a tingling swirling in her nostrils.
Before her eyes, dark clouds surge forward and swallow the moon, together with the woman and child. The mother shivers, clenching her jaw.
A rap ripples into her ears. Her eyes dart towards the gate. She tries to hasten towards it, but the dark of night is still a mass of shackles around her legs, or is it the weariness of waiting? She drags on, regardless. Into the moon-stripped night. Whatever swallows the moon has no regard for innocence, she knew.
Girls are beautiful. Girls are charming. Girls are innocent. Girls make good prey—else why would her daughter linger in the arms of darkness. Whatever swallows the moon has no regard for innocence. She wouldn’t fight it. This nature. This fate. This life.
Nonetheless, tonight is different. The gate is calling for her. When one knocks at the gate, the house dwellers hurry out to open the door. Their curiosity spikes as they approach it. Who is there behind the gate? What do they want? Reunion? Shelter? Companion? Food? And if the house dweller has been expecting someone, they feel ready to welcome the knocker. Has he finally come? Did she really come alone? Am I really finally going to see him? This dream… this longing… will it come true? But even gates can be like the dark clouds that swallow the moon with the mother and child in it.
This mother feels a burning in her chest as her weak hands shiver, brushing against the lock, which she undoes. Her eyes are boring into the gate. They can see beyond the gate. They can signal to the brain and connect to the mind, pulling away the lid of memories. Standing before the gate is her daughter. Her long-lost girl, who now is at least a foot taller. She still wears her school uniform even after several months; her school bag is also strapped behind her. The mother's face crumples, squeezing out tears, but she is happy. Daughter must be tired. She needs a warm embrace, a clean bath, a sumptuous meal, a good rest. Daughter must be tired. Daughter must be tired.
She beams and pulls the door open, her eyes momentarily closing to push back the wearying days of yearning. Let’s see her with a new mind. Let our brightness come alive. She eases her eyes open and stares through the open gate. But at times, what we see isn’t different from what blind men see. Darkness. Oblivion. Abyss. And the devastation comes wilder when we do nature’s bidding. Curiosity. Questions. Desire.
The mother scowls a frown into the emptiness beyond the door frame. Slowly, she shoves a leg in, her hands gripping the sides of the door frame, her head turning left and right. Her body follows her inquiry, till she crosses the boundary. I saw her. She saw me. Yes, just now.
She turns around, wasted energy now finding a stir. And she keeps walking in, meandering in, melting in, deep into oblivion.
Her nose tingles. She blinks rapidly. She remembers the full moon, even the mother and child. The world beyond the gate is a mass of dark clouds swallowing up the full moon. But what mother stays back and waits for a captured daughter to return? I’ll find you. I’ll find you. Even in Hades' camp.
“I trashed my submission, 'How to Catch the Lost Ones', because I thought the story isn't capturing the idea I'd envisaged. The initial writing was a beautiful process. I could feel it all: the passion, the depth, everything. Then, I left the work after writing and came back to revise. But I wouldn't find it any appealing. It read boring, off, grey. But I read the same work recently and happened to like it again.”
Elisha Oluyemi recently received a B.A degree in English Language. He co-edited the PROFWIC Crime Fiction Anthology, Vol 1. He came 1st runner-up at the 2nd 2021 Shuzia Short Story Contest and 2022 Shuzia Flash Fiction Contest. His works are on Nymphs, Mystery Tribune, Brittle Paper, Terror House, Neurological, Kalahari Review, Erato Magazine, and elsewhere.