Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt

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Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt Page 6

by Leah Day


  Mally couldn’t help herself. She sat down and peeled off her socks and shoes. Shrugging off her bookbag, she rolled back and forth on the top of the hill, reveling in the feel of the soft fibers sliding against her skin. She flapped her arms and legs back and forth, then sat up quickly and laughed. She’d made a snow angel impression with wide wings and a full skirt in the grass.

  She flopped back down and took a deep breath and held it. Mally knew she could happily spend days rolling down the hills and soaking in the warm sunshine. She let her breath out slowly and got to her feet. It was time to get busy searching for Grandma.

  She was just reaching for her bag to stash her shoes and socks when it flopped over. It gave a lurch, then another lurch, and Mally jumped back with a start. It was as if something was inside, fighting to get out.

  Her bag gave another lurch and a muffled voice called out, “Mally? Can you let me out please?”

  While Mally had not heard the voice before, her heart recognized it instantly. Her fingers moved involuntarily to the top of the bag and she unzipped it as fast as she could.

  Out stepped Ms. Bunny.

  Mally gasped and stumbled back, and would have probably tumbled down the hill, but with a giant leap Ms. Bunny jumped off the ground and grabbed Mally’s hands in her stuffed paws. She was still only around fifteen inches tall, but she was surprisingly strong.

  They sat on the hill, staring into each other’s eyes. Mally spoke first in a whisper.

  “How are you doing that?”

  The rabbit smiled kindly. “I’m as surprised as you are, my dear.”

  That voice again. Mally could have sworn she’d known that voice her whole life, whispering soothing words whenever she was sad or angry.

  “But how? Have you always been alive, but you just couldn’t speak or move in the real world? How does it feel?” Mally could barely believe her eyes. She poked at Ms. Bunny’s arm and shook her head slowly as the doll caught her finger with both paws.

  “I think so. I’m honestly not sure,” the rabbit said, giving her a squeeze.

  Mally sat up and Ms. Bunny stood before her, barely taller than the yarn grass waving in the breeze around them. She looked exactly the same as she had before, her pink calico dress hanging past her knee joints with bits of white lace trimming the sleeves and hem.

  The only thing that had changed were her eyes and mouth. Where before her eyes only had a light sheen from black embroidery floss, now they glimmered in the sun with the faintest hint of brown in the center. Her mouth, which had been stitched into a soft pink curve that was neither a smile nor frown, was now moving as she spoke and changing expression.

  It was weird, like watching a statue come to life. Mally tried to wrap her head around the fact that her best friend in the world – the creature who knew every secret, every embarrassing detail, every joy, sorrow, triumph or tribulation Mally had ever gone through was alive and talking to her.

  “I would suspect it’s something to do with this magical place. I’ve never been able to move or talk before now,” Ms. Bunny said, looking around. “As for how it feels… it feels good, I guess.” She stretched out her arms and turned in a wide circle. She stumbled and fell backward onto the grass with a little, “Oomph!”

  “You’ve never walked before. It might take a little practice.” Mally laughed and rose to her feet. She bent and picked Ms. Bunny straight off the ground by habit. She was just bringing her close for a hug when she froze, staring into the doll’s eyes. Ms. Bunny was alive now, not just a stuffed toy she could pluck off the ground whenever she liked.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, setting her down quickly. “I guess that was pretty rude. I wouldn’t want some giant just grabbing me off the ground.”

  “It’s okay. This is a lot to take in for both of us, I think. How about I ride on your shoulder for right now?”

  Mally leaned down and extended her arm, allowing Ms. Bunny to climb on by herself. The doll scrambled up onto Mally’s shoulder, then took a second to arrange her dress. She smoothed her ears down around her little chest and Mally felt her heart skip. She had always set Ms. Bunny’s ears in the exact same way when she left for school every morning.

  “Ready?” Mally asked.

  “Ready.”

  Barefoot, Mally set off walking slowly down the sloping hill. The doll added almost no weight to her shoulder, but it was unnerving to feel her soft paws clinging to her shirt.

  As they moved down the slope, Mally remembered Rose. The fight. Ms. Bunny’s ear.

  “Um, how are you feeling, Ms. Bunny?”

  “I don’t have much to compare it to, but I’d say I’m feeling just fine. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, last night…” Mally trailed off, embarrassed to bring up the incident and her horrible sister.

  “Oh, that.” Ms. Bunny shrugged. “It hurt more to see you so upset. I don’t think Rose meant to rip my ear off, Mally. She comes to me for a hug now and then so she’s not quite as tough as she likes you to think.”

  “Rose hugs you?” Mally couldn’t believe it. “So it doesn’t hurt now?”

  “No, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your dad can make some very fine stitches, despite his hands being a bit rough,” she said with a half smile.

  “What?” Mally stopped dead and stared at her friend. “I thought Mama stitched your ear back on.”

  “No… She… well… she just couldn’t manage it,” Ms. Bunny said sadly. “I wish I could have told her it wouldn’t matter if the stitches were huge or not. It would have done her good to fix something. It might have helped her sew herself back together a bit. I believe she went back to bed early last night.”

  A stitch of fear threaded through Mally’s heart. What would happen if Mama didn’t start to get better soon? All the more reason to find Grandma and bring her home as quickly as she could.

  “So we need to get to the path that starts up there,” Mally said changing the subject and pointing at a spot in the distance where a gray path began threading its way up the mountain. “That’s where Patch said to meet him.”

  “About that. What did he say, exactly?

  “You remember?”

  “Anything you told me in the real world, I heard, dear. I’m just not sure I like the sound of this cat.”

  “He is a bit grumpy,” Mally said. “But I think he wants to help. He told me to go home just in time yesterday. If I’d been any later, Dad would have called the police!”

  “But have you thought about what we’ll do if we don’t find your Grandma quickly? I don’t know exactly how long we’ve been away, and the way you left the alarm running…”

  “I know, I should have shut it off, but I just had to get back here.” Mally swept her arms wide. “Isn’t it amazing?!”

  “Amazing doesn’t begin to cover it, my dear,” Ms. Bunny said with a smile.

  Mally walked faster, her momentum carrying her down one hill then up the next, in a hurry to reach the spot where Patch had told her to meet him. Ms. Bunny clung to the backpack straps on Mally’s shoulder, her skinny legs crossed at the ankle and her long ears streaming behind her head in the breeze.

  Mally was relieved when she felt the texture of the stitching under her feet change from soft tufts of grass to hard knots. She looked down and found millions of tiny gray knots covering a narrow strip of dark brown fabric that formed a path up the mountain.

  She stopped to put her shoes back on and Ms. Bunny slipped down from her shoulder. She tried out her legs again and was only a little wobbly as she walked in a wide circle around Mally.

  “How does it feel?” Mally asked.

  “I’m not sure I can describe it. I’ve seen you walking, running, and doing all sorts of things for years. I guess I had an idea of what it would feel like but never expected to be able to do it myself.” Bunny shrugged. “It feels… weird, I guess.”


  Mally laughed. Somehow the word “weird” seemed odd coming from Ms. Bunny. Shoes and socks back on her feet, Mally stood and looked around. “Patch said he would meet us here and take us to Grandma. I think if we find her quickly, everything will be fine.”

  Ms. Bunny looked up at the sky and shook her head. “Does it get dark here? We have no way to know how much time has passed. We could always come back tomorrow and search in a different direction. There’s always the weekend too.”

  “No. Patch said he heard a Maker was here. He’s going to take us to her.” Mally couldn’t remember exactly what Patch had said, but she wasn’t ready to leave yet.

  “Well, he isn’t here and I think we should head back. It will take at least that much time to walk back to the door, maybe longer.”

  “Just a bit further!” Mally protested. We’ve come this far, she thought. I don’t want to give up now.

  Ms. Bunny didn’t argue. She trailed behind Mally, slowly but steadily getting her footing. The mountain cast a shadow over the path and the sun didn’t seem to be shining as brightly, even though they were closer to the sky than ever.

  “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Patch was perched on a rock on the side of the path, the red tip of his tail twitching in time with Mally’s footsteps.

  “Patch! There you are!” Mally impulsively scooped the cat into her arms. His body went rigid as she hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Patch! Now where is Grandma… or the Maker you were talking about yesterday? Can you take us to her?”

  Mally set him back on the rock and laughed at Patch’s dazed expression. He shook himself and jumped down to circle around Ms. Bunny.

  “Now who is this tasty creature?” he said with a toothy grin.

  “Tasty?” Mally exclaimed. “You don’t mean you’re thinking about eating Ms. Bunny because she’s a rabbit and you’re a cat?”

  “I believe we’re based on those animals and have some of those characteristics, do we not?” Patch held up a paw close to his face and slowly extended tiny silver claws.

  Mally leaned down, intrigued, and took his little paw in her hands. She ran her finger over his claws and found them surprisingly sharp, even though they were obviously stitched with gray thread.

  “That is so cool. Grandma has some silk thread that’s almost exactly that color. I’ve never seen her use it except for really special projects.”

  “Then I would doubt it’s the same thread in my claws.” Patch shook himself free and narrowed his eyes at Mally. She reached out to pet his head, but he ducked out of reach before she could touch him. He started up the path at a fast pace and Mally and Ms. Bunny scrambled to keep up.

  “You said there was another Maker here? What did you call this land again?” Mally’s head was buzzing with questions. “Where has the Maker been hanging out?”

  “Yes. Quilst. Around.”

  Mally was confused for a second, then realized he’d answered her questions in the shortest way possible.

  “But where is she? Quilst, you said? This is such a big place! Is this just my Grandma’s quilt? Can any quilt do this?”

  “I said I’d take you to her, so that’s what I’m doing. Take a hint and save your breath. The path is going to get much steeper.”

  Mally tried her best to be quiet as she followed behind the scrappy cat, taking in the delicate stitches embellishing the purple and blue mountains. Nothing could dim her excitement at the prospect of finding Grandma and bringing her home.

  Ms. Bunny trailed behind on the shortest of short legs and Mally occasionally stopped and waited for her to catch up. She offered to carry her best friend, but Ms. Bunny just waved her off, obviously determined to make it up by herself.

  The path wound around the base of a blue mountain. Mally remembered watching Grandma carefully cut out the shapes and turn the edges of the fabrics before gluing them in place. She constructed the entire mountain chain in one piece before moving to her machine to stitch along the edges.

  “Blanket stitch.” Mally said, touching the line of special blue stitches that ran along the folded edge of the fabrics. Grandma had told her the name once of the distinctive stitch and while Mally hadn’t really been listening, somehow she remembered that little detail.

  “Mally, I think this is far enough,” Ms. Bunny said. “I have a bad feeling about this place. I think we should go back.” Mally turned and found Ms. Bunny had stopped, her arms crossed firmly over her pink dress.

  “But if I don’t bring Grandma back, nothing will have changed.” Mally kept walking. “We’ve come this far! Just a bit further!”

  “But what about your family? Rose must have called your dad by now and I bet he’s really worried.”

  “If I bring Grandma back it won’t matter! Everything will be fine again!” Mally snapped. I liked it better when she didn’t argue with me.

  She wanted Ms. Bunny to support her, not constantly remind her they were on a time limit. Mally sped up, her legs stretching further with each step. She didn’t look back to see if Ms. Bunny was following as she rounded a dark bend in the path.

  Two mountains loomed on either side of the trail, blocking out almost all light. It was like stepping into a dark, narrow tunnel and Mally pressed her hands to the sides, feeling her way forward.

  “Patch? Is this the right way to go?” she called, seeking reassurance, but no reply came. She took a cautious step forward, then another, her eyes straining to see through the gloom. “Ms. Bunny? Are you coming?”

  She was just looking back to check on her friend when her hands sank into the wall. She let out a little shriek and whipped her head around, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She couldn’t see anything in the dim light, but the texture of the fabric under her fingertips had changed. The woven surface was moving.

  Soft fibers slid against her skin as if the threads forming this wall were alive. The sensation tickled up her arms and as she tried to brush the feeling away, Mally suddenly found she couldn’t move.

  She tried to pull her arms back, but they didn’t budge. She leaned back, bending her knees for more leverage, but her legs were stuck too.

  “What? Why can’t I…? Ms. Bunny!” Mally called. “Ms. Bunny! I’m caught! There’s a wall… I… I can’t move!”

  She listened for a response but could barely hear anything over the pounding of her heart. The scent of cloves and lemon filled her nose, stronger here than anywhere she’d been in the quilt before.

  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. She squinted and could just make out the details of the shifting wall in front of her. Tiny white threads were weaving themselves together in a pattern that looked frighteningly familiar…

  Spider web.

  Mally shrieked, thrashing wildly. But as soon as she’d touched it, the living threads in the web had caught her shirt and pants and begun weaving through the fabrics. She looked down to find row after row of perfectly spaced stitches running through her jeans.

  “Mally? What’s wrong?” Ms. Bunny’s voice called from behind, but Mally was too distracted to answer as a wiggling thread from the wall caught hold of her sleeve. It wove rapidly through the material, in, out, in, out. There was no needle on the end. The tip of the thread burrowed its way through her shirt like a worm, forming a line of white stitches that seemed to glow against the red fabric.

  “Mally? What’s going on?” Ms. Bunny called again.

  “Get it off! Get it off! GET IT OFF!” Mally screamed. The threads made an awful sound as they slithered through her hair, pulling her head into an awkward angle so she couldn’t see more than her own shoes. She twisted and shrieked, panicking when she realized just how little she could move.

  “Please stop struggling, dear,” Ms. Bunny said in her calm voice. “Can you pull on just one thread with your hand? See if you can break them one at a time.”
r />   “I CAN’T MOVE!”

  “Calm. We’ll figure a way out of this.” Mally felt Ms. Bunny climb up her back and tug on her arm. The web bent and bowed with the movement, but Mally remained firmly attached.

  “PATCH! Patch! Help me! You’ll be able to cut me out with your claws! Please, Patch! I need your help!”

  “He’s gone, Mally,” Ms. Bunny said quietly in her ear. “I don’t know when he slipped away, but I don’t see him anywhere.”

  “What are we going to do?” Mally strained against her bonds, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “How is this happening? Why would Grandma have made this awful thing?”

  She stared down at her shoes and begged her brain to work. What do I do? What do I do? What do I DO? She watched as more threads wove around her ankles. So many lines of stitching ran through her jeans, they looked more white than blue. Something about the stitches gave Mally an idea.

  “My sewing box! Find the little scissors inside. You can cut me free.”

  Ms. Bunny’s light weight shifted across her back and Mally heard the zipper open. She rooted around in the bookbag and the metal sewing box opened with a click.

  Then came another metallic sound, but it came from somewhere in front of her, further up the path.

  Snip. Snip. Snip.

  Mally froze. “Are you doing that?” she whispered. She couldn’t move her head so she squeezed her eyes shut and focused all her energy on listening for the sound.

  “No. That isn’t me. Is there something coming?” the doll answered quietly. She wiggled around in the backpack and quietly pulled the zipper closed.

  Her question threw Mally for a loop. Who is making that sound? What is making that sound? Mally hadn’t met anyone in Quilst except Patch, but he couldn’t possibly be the only animal living in this world.

  With dawning horror, she gazed at the spider web stitched right in front of her eyes.

  Snip. Snip. Snip.

  Mally’s mind suddenly filled with the image of a huge spider with giant pincers clicking below a mass of glowing red eyes. A dark shape shifted in her peripheral vision and she panicked.

 

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