Free Fly Away Home by Vanessa Del Fabbro

sooner we can take our daughter home.
    â€œAnd how will we persuade this woman to come back and give up drinking? She has an addiction that has kept her from her children for years.”
    Francina would not allow her practical husband to dampen her enthusiasm. “This is God’s plan. He will help us,” she replied in a firm tone.
    Hercules knew better than to argue with that.
    Zukisa returned with a dog-eared photograph of a woman smiling dreamily at the camera. In her arms, she held a newborn baby, her daughter.
    â€œMy aunt says that the last time she heard from her she was staying at the Dorchester Hotel. But that was more than a year ago, and she doesn’t have the address.”
    â€œWell, that’s where we’ll start then,” said Francina. “Will you be okay if we leave now, Zukisa?”
    The apprehension on her face belied her confident nod. Francina pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “You are a good girl.”
    Zukisa wrapped her arms around Francina’s neck. “I love you, Mother.”
    â€œI love you, too.”
    Zukisa hugged her father’s middle. “I’ll miss you.”
    â€œDon’t worry. We’ll be here more often than you can imagine.”
    His tone was jovial, but Francina could tell that her husband was deeply disturbed.
    â€œDon’t go outdoors,” he told Zukisa. “We’ll bring you groceries, and if you need anything in an emergency, send one of the boys to get it.”
    Zukisa nodded.
    â€œAnd don’t open the door to anyone.”
    â€œYes, Father.”
    The boys appeared from the kitchen, Xoli with a broom, Bulelani with a mop. From the way they held them, like swords, it was clear that cleaning was a new experience.
    â€œYou start on your bedroom,” Francina instructed Xoli. “And Bulelani, you can put down that mop and get a duster.”
    The youngest boy dropped the mop on the floor where he stood, and stalked back into the kitchen. It was obvious that Zukisa had a challenge on her hands.
    â€œWe had better start our search,” said Francina, taking the photograph. She bent down and stroked Fundiswa’s cheek. How different this little girl’s existence would be if her mother came back into it. There were many things in life that one could not change, but this was one instance where Francina and Hercules might make a difference.
    They stood at the door, hugging their daughter in unison, neither wanting to pull away. Then Zukisa’s aunt called from the bedroom. In the end, it was Zukisa who broke from the embrace.
    â€œEvery night I thank God for bringing you to me,” she said. “Now you’d better get going so I can lock the door behind you.”
    Francina and Hercules raced down the stairs with surging energy. The sooner they found Lucy in Cape Town, the sooner they’d get their daughter back. Neither thought about what would happen if Lucy didn’t want to return, or how difficult it would be to help her to give up drinking.

Chapter Eight
    F rancina and Hercules did not have a street address for the Dorchester Hotel, but she called the one person who could find anything if she put her mind to it: Monica.
    Five minutes later, Francina’s cell phone rang. Monica said that the hotel no longer had a number listed, but she had an address for it.
    â€œWhy are you going to that part of Cape Town?” she asked worriedly.
    Francina explained the situation briefly.
    â€œBe careful. That’s a drug neighborhood.”
    Francina assured her that they would get a police escort if necessary. Monica took particular care about where and when she drove. She knew firsthand the trauma of having a gun pointed at her face, and being forced out of her car. Francina still could not think about Monica’s carjacking without choking up. The Brunetti family had almost lost their daughter that day. If a kind taxi driver had not found Monica lying