The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven

Luna made a small meow, urging me to join her in the kitchen. Her master was not far behind, subtly watching me from around
the pale white wood of the doorway. Bravely I stepped forward, allowing my fingers to lightly rub against the left side of the
hallway wall. I stopped over the archway, still feeling that heated gaze from him. My body was starting to respond to him, but I
forced that thought away and bent down to pet the back of Luna’s ear. She purred instinctively, loud enough for Teddy to hear.
He abandoned his post to clear away his dishes.
“Hello Luna,” I whispered. She was brought upwards to rest in front of my chest, cuddled like a small babe that had just been
born. She was sweet and innocent, and I found myself being drawn to her immensely.
My right hand drew out my chair and I happily took a seat. She was the cure I needed to calm myself down, a welcome
distraction from the lustful look that continually escaped Teddy’s eyes. I suppose it was unintentional, but this morning it had
increased more than ever before. A lot can be said in a person’s eyes and looks, and Teddy’s was most telling.
Luna soon grew bored of me and wanted to be put down. I had no choice but to lay her down on the kitchen floor and watch her
small paws pad their way towards her master.
While I was eating I could hear him speaking to Luna. “Hello, little Missy,” he affectionately cooed. “You missed me?”
I glanced upwards to see he was just drying off his hands with a dish cloth. His whole attention was on this small creature,
completely forgetting I was still in the room with him.
“You’re going outside today?” he continued, before he bent his knees and reached for his cat. “Or are you going to spend the day
with me again?” His dark brown eyes searched out her pale blue ones, and once they connected a warm smile spread across his
face. “I know you like Sela too.” A happy laughter escaped him before he averted his gaze from his cat towards me. “I’m
speaking to her aloud. Forgive me. I am used to living alone.”
“I’ve heard it is normal to speak to your pets.”
“Yes, but...” he looked down at Luna with something of a smile. “She’s my only friend.”
“Now, you have another one.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, Teddy,” I confirmed for him. “I am done with my food now.” He watched me rise up from my chair with a surprised look to
him. “Please move so I may wash my dishes.” He moved to the right, allowing me enough space to place the dishes down in the

sink. I could feel him staring at me again, examining my side profile as I soaked the water upon the pure white plate. Luna
squirmed in his arms, forcing him to place her upon the kitchen floor. He never moved when I reached behind him to obtain the
kitchen towel, probably enjoying the closeness of our bodies. “Anyone tell you that...” His gaze strengthened two-fold. “You have
a certain look to your eyes.”
“What kind of look?”
“I can’t describe it.”
He blinked slowly, and then finally dropped his eyes from mine. I laid the dish towel down on the edge of the countertop; Teddy
was quick to retrieve it and fold it neatly to his liking. His quirky mannerisms were exhibited once again, an uncontrollable side to
him that Teddy had trouble hiding. “I like it neat,” he said as an excuse. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No.”
His head jerked backwards, for he was puzzled by my answer.
“No, you never offended me.”
He looked down at my lips, and I could see the strain to his jawline since we were standing so close together. A sharp gust of air
escaped his partially open lips, and then he suddenly looked over his shoulder as though we were being watched. “We should
go,” he said as a way of command. He left the spot as quickly as he could, abandoning a crumbled dish towel over the
countertop in the process.
***
“I specialize in landscape paintings.” The canvas was brought upwards, braced hard against his chest because of the weight and
sheer size of it. “I live along the English coast.” He shrugged his shoulders, but it looked amusing when his arms were spread so
far apart. “I thought I might as well make a living out of it.”
“People would kill for a house like this.”
His face darkened substantially, a dangerous pulse of anger ignited in his eyes. “What did you say?”
“It’s- it’s,” I stammered out nervously. “An expression. Slang.”

He lowered his painting, which brought a wave of sadness to me. I stepped forward to stretch out my hand. “I like how you added
the wildflowers in the foreground. Red campions,” I pointed out with my finger hovering over the canvas. The man in front of me
nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, and there is...” I tilted my head with a mischievous smile. “White bluebells! Weren’t you
worried it would blend in with the white foam of the sea along the coast line?”
“Never even entered my mind.”
I stepped forward even more, until I was right on top of him and the painted canvas. “It looks nice at dawn.”
“It looks nice at any time,” he relayed in almost a hush. “I could take you there, if you don’t object.”
“It’s right outside,” I noted. “Ah, but I have work to do.” His smirk grew wider, for Teddy knew that I was toying with him. “Another
time then.”
“I could show you the exact spot where I painted this,” he said with utter pride. The canvas was lowered swiftly, and then he
moved backwards to take up another one. This painting was very similar though it was taken at a different angle, and on a cold
foggy day. “This one has trouble selling. I enjoy these sort of days, but my clients don’t.”
“Why not?”
“They want happy scenes,” he softly bemoaned. “Scenes of bright sun-lit seas and swathes of lush greenery. Yes, there are
those days,” he admitted. “But you cannot have light without the darkness.” He brought the painting closer to me, displaying the
sheer rage of the sea that crashed harshly against the ghostly grey rocks. From the precipice you could see the looming
shadows and misty fog that added more dimension to his painting. There was life to this image, but as Teddy noted it was not a
painting for everyone. “But I must find some way to pay the bills,” he said in a dejected voice. “And so, I paint scenes of beauty...
or what some may say joy.” The canvas lowered over his lap, exposing the deep heaving of his chest. “But what do you think?”
“I like them both.”
“Which one do you prefer more?”
“Well, the first one made me want to travel to that exact destination. To see it with my own eyes. It is the kind of painting that you
would like to put up on a wall.”
Teddy turned around to lower his painting to the ground, somewhere close to Luna where she was silently roaming. “And not the
other?”

“I wasn’t finished,” I quipped with a beguiling smile. Teddy turned around to face me, slipping his hands deep inside of his trouser
pockets. “I think the second one reflects you more. We all have inner turmoil inside of us.”
“Yes.”
“And you are right,” I assented with a sort of forcefulness to my voice and physical gestures. “We can’t have light without the
darkness.”
“But we can’t let the darkness consume us either.”
“I agree.”
He stepped forward, bringing his chest nearly against my own. His hands were still in his trouser pockets, which was a safety
indicator for I had the sense that he wanted to touch me. He bit down on the corner of his lips while he looked down at me,
making me feel the stark difference in our height. There was that look again, increasing by the second since we were in such
close proximity to each other.
“You are very talented,” I hushed out softly, a vain effort to not break the natural silence of the house. “I think you chose a career
that suits you.”
He cleared his throat with purpose. “I’d like to say the same thing about you.”
“Even though I am not out there gardening,” I nervously giggled.
“Are you free Saturday?” he spoke out quickly. “Please say yes.”
“I might be,” I lied. “Well...”
“Sela,” he said with more determination, but just then we heard a harsh hissing of Luna that spelled disaster. I looked to the open
doorway and saw nothing, but the manner of Teddy had suddenly changed. He stormed towards the doorway and looked left and
right at the empty hallway. His mannerism grew stiff; his left foot prodded Luna away from the doorway so he could shut it
completely. He held his hand over the top of the heavy door with some forcefulness once it was fully closed; a long sigh struck
the air added with the faint hissing of Luna that was as sharp as ever. Teddy patted his fingertips against the door in a strange
rhythm. “I must leave this place,” he muttered to himself.

I was motionless next to his painting of a stormy day, not wanting to disturb him when my nerves were so frazzled. The darkness
of the house seemed to loom over me, clutching like an unseen hand with long tendril-like fingers around my throat. I could not
feel this sensation physically, but my spirit quivered at the queer feeling of it.
Teddy approached me slowly, probably aware that I was not looking in his direction. The wind howled throughout the house,
particularly down the hallway where Teddy had just shut the door. “Sela.”
I blinked harshly, feeling the full weight of my emotions.
“Sela.”
“Yes?” I said in an exasperated breath.
“Sela,” he repeated for the third time, until I turned my fearful gaze in his direction. “Sometimes cats see things...” He looked
over his shoulder, noticing how protective Luna was in front of the closed doorway. “Hear things.”
“She looks alarmed.”
“The wind is picking up,” he suggested. “It makes odd sounds throughout the house. It is an old one. I should show you...” He
turned away from me and pulled out a drawer. A small hardcover sketchbook was held in his hands protectively. “I have
something here.” He flipped through the pages quickly, although he made sure it was positioned so that I could not see the
contents of it. “A sketch.”
I stepped closer, awaiting to see the image that Teddy wished to reveal to me. His hand motioned me forward and soon we were
leaning over an old pine table to look at the image.