Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt

by Leah Day

  Then a breeze caught her black velvet arms and the limp cloth twisted around her legs. Her body deflated rapidly, the fabrics bunching together.

  She dropped like a rock.

  Mally ran to the window and watched her fall in a screaming mass of stuffing and ripped fabrics. Menda disappeared beyond the edge of the mountain and her shriek cut off abruptly. Silence filled the air.

  Chapter 12 - A Great Mend

  “You did good, little Maker,” Patch wheezed from the floor. “Or I guess it’s little Queen now?”

  Mally shook her head, confused. “I’m not sure what happened. Do you think she’s dead?” She surveyed the mountain room, her shoulders slumping. The cuts on her hand were bleeding profusely. She gripped her fingers in a fist, but blood still seeped out the sides.

  “I don’t think anything could survive that fall. She’s gone. That’s all that matters.”

  But at what cost? Mally thought, trying not to look at the bundle of brown fabrics scattered across the floor. She glanced out the window. Nothing moved on the landscape outside and Mally couldn’t see any sign of Thimble or the animals in the field.

  Massive snarls dotted the ground, many frozen in the middle of ripping things apart. Very little solid fabric remained in the field below. How in the world am I going to fix this? Mally thought. The crown sent her a simple image of a single line of stitching. The answer was clear: just fix one thing at a time.

  She found her broken bookbag in the corner and awkwardly pulled out her sewing box with her right hand. She carried it over to Patch. He’d been slashed three times across the chest and his white stuffing was leaking out all over the floor.

  “I guess I need to stitch you back together again. It seems you can’t go five minutes without splitting your stitches.” Mally said, trying to inject some humor in her voice she didn’t feel. Her hands shook as she clicked open the latch.

  “Fix the rabbit first,” Patch said. “You did it all for her.”

  “I’ll need your help,” she whispered. “Can we fix her together, please?”

  Patch nodded and closed his eyes. Mally felt something soft touch her arm and she jumped, spilling the contents of the sewing box all over the floor. But it was only Goldie and the band of animals that had made it into the mountain with her.

  “Mally Maker, the door sealed tight and we weren’t able to help you.” Goldie’s eyes were fixed on the crown spinning over her head. “We tried everything to break through. Many were lost and it only strengthened the barrier.”

  “It’s fine. The plan worked. We got the scissors so she can’t hurt anyone else,” Mally said distractedly, trying to collect the sewing supplies scattered across the floor. She pulled out a scrap of fabric and tried to wrap it around her bleeding hand, but the fabric kept slipping out of place.

  She opened her fingers and the sight of the three deep cuts made her squeeze her eyes shut. The room spun sickeningly around her and she fought to draw breath. How can I stitch Patch back together with my hand bleeding like this? How in the world can I fix Ms. Bunny?

  “Can we help?” asked a purple monkey with a white swirling pattern on his chest. “We can all stitch too.”

  “Please,” Patch said, rolling onto his back. More white fluff flowed from his split seams onto the floor. “Just don’t get any of that witch’s stuffing mixed up with mine. I’d rather be dead than smell like her.”

  Mally looked around and found a dozen eager faces looking back at her. She lost control over her tears for a second as a hot pink bear took her hand gently.

  “I don’t want to bleed on you!” she cried, her voice breaking. “It might never come off.”

  “I don’t mind, Maker, um, Queen Mally,” the bear said, bobbing her head lightly. “Red is my favorite color, though I don’t mind the pink I was blessed with. My name is Hoop and I daresay me and Lime here can put your hand to rights.” She nodded to a green hummingbird hovering nearby.

  Mally held her hand out and with that small gesture an enormous weight lifted off her shoulders. Hoop and Lime worked on her hand while three mice, the purple monkey, and a black and white cat repaired the slashes on Patch’s chest. They took turns scooping up his white fluff and packing it back into his body. In the corner of her eye she could see several mice working on the bundle of brown fabrics. She looked around the room for Pattern and Pin, but couldn’t find them.

  “They were lost when the door sealed,” Hoop explained sadly. “The spider web shredded their fabrics apart. We lost so many. I just hope…” But she trailed off as she caught sight of the look on Mally’s face.

  With so many helping hands, the work was finished quickly. Mally was surprised when Hoop clipped the thread tails from her palm. It hadn’t hurt at all and Lime had fixed her hand with a line of tiny stitches that almost completely blended in with her skin.

  “Thank you so much,” Mally said, smiling at the little hummingbird. His wings were speckled with dark red from her palm, but it seemed to bring out the green color of his patchwork body. He hummed loudly which she took to mean he was pleased. Mally glanced over at the mice still at work on Ms. Bunny.

  “Your friend is going to be fine,” Hoop said, patting her on the shoulder. Her paws were also stained red, but it didn’t look as flattering on her fabric. Bloody paws didn’t suit hot pink patchwork bears. “It was an honor to help and I don’t mind the stain, really.”

  On impulse, Mally gripped her paws. She hadn’t thought about the crown since Menda’s attack, but now she was curious. Can I fix this? she asked.

  The crown sent her an image of Hoop’s fabric clean and pretty once more. So yes, it could be repaired, but how? Mally frowned. Then words seemed to rise up from her heart and spill out of her mouth.

  “Heal. Return to the way you were made, and...” Mally glanced up at Hoop and smiled. “Be the color you love best.” Instantly the blood stains disappeared from Hoop’s paws and with a slow shift her hot pink fabric darkened to a deep crimson red.

  “Oh!” Hoop gasped. “Thank you.”

  “You said you liked red, so I hope you like your color better now,” Mally said. The crown spun a bit slower and she felt it give a gentle nudge, right between her eyes as if it was saying, Good job, keep going.

  Suddenly Goldie scampered up her leg, her tiny face creased in a frown. “Maker… Queen Mally… she is missing a substantial piece from her chest.”

  “Substantial? What do you mean?” Mally asked.

  “She’ll be fine, but do you have something we could use as a patch?”

  “Um… let me see.” Mally rooted through the pile of scraps still scattered across the floor. She’d packed a large collection of fabrics back at the Great Tree, but none of them felt right. She looked at her own red shirt. It was blood stained, wrinkled and torn in several places. Another hole cut into it wouldn’t hurt.

  Mally pulled out the little scissors out of her necklace and cut into the frayed sleeve. She sliced in a circular motion, but strangely when she pulled the piece away it had cut a perfect heart shape. She handed it to Goldie who raced off to the little crowd around Ms. Bunny.

  Mally began gathering up all the sewing tools, fabrics, and spools of thread off the floor and arranging the materials neatly in her sewing box. Her damaged hand felt strangely numb, but at least the cuts weren’t bleeding.

  The animals working on Patch suddenly began clapping as he sat up and stretched. All the slashes across his chest had been repaired so neatly Mally couldn’t see the new seams between his orange fabrics. Snaking a huge paw over, he pulled her in for a hug. Mally wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.

  “I’m afraid Ms. Bunny won’t be the same,” she whispered. The cursed words Menda stitched on Sunshine still rang in her head and she could only imagine what this hole in her chest looked like.

  “She probably won’t be,” Patch said flatly.
>
  Mally pulled back, glaring at him.

  “Will you be the same after all this?” he asked. “Are you still the girl who can’t stitch a seam to save her life? Will you go home and cry all the time?” He skimmed a paw over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

  “No,” she said, looking down at her palm and the faint lines of stitching that ran through the middle. “But I don’t want her to be different. She was perfect the way she was.”

  “She will be again, with some extra thread and fabric on top. Look at all the stitching you’ve added to me. I’m no worse for the wear. I think she would like it if you helped put her back together, though.”

  With a quick pat on the back, Patch stood and made his way across the room to watch the animals working.

  “Hey now, that’s not where that goes!” he said.

  Mally jumped to her feet and ran across the room. “What?”

  She had sudden visions of all the ways the doll could be stitched back together wrong. But Patch had obviously been joking. The animals pulled back as she lifted her friend from the floor and cradled her in her hands.

  Ms. Bunny looked perfect. Her body had been repaired with her two long legs and segmented arms stitched securely to both sides. A red heart covered the left side of her chest. The stitches were so fine it almost looked as if it was woven into the original fabric.

  Only a short line of stitching remained on one of her ears. A threaded needle dangled from the small seam.

  “Thank you so much. You all did such a beautiful job,” Mally said, sinking down to sit on the floor.

  And they had. Their tiny paws had made even tinier stitches. The seams were almost invisible from the outside unless you knew where to look. Mally took the needle and finished the stitches holding Ms. Bunny’s ear in place.

  She remembered that night, it felt like months ago now, when Rose had ripped off this ear. Mally had never considered fixing it herself. Now she slid the needle smoothly through the fabrics, trying to keep her stitches just as small and even as the rest.

  The crown spun around her head and sent her images of Ms. Bunny’s ear fixed with no needle and thread. I know there are ways to fix this quicker, she thought. But I want to stitch her by hand.

  She tied off the threads and reached for the scissors in her necklace, but the holder was empty.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got it, dear,” a familiar voice spoke and a brown paw slid the tool into her hand.

  Mally gazed into the eyes of her best friend. Ms. Bunny smiled, her thread mouth quirking up slightly in the corners and Mally finally lost the battle with her tears.

  Ms. Bunny wrapped her arms around her and it was a long time before she let go.

  * * * * *

  Eventually Mally pulled away and Ms. Bunny handed her the ear she’d just stitched in place. She laughed and wiped her eyes with it, as she had every time she’d cried for as long as she could remember. She sighed deeply as Ms. Bunny stepped back, looking good as new.

  “You’re okay?” Mally asked.

  “Yes, dear, of course I’m okay. You all stitched me back together.” Ms. Bunny patted herself down, pausing briefly over the heart stitched on her chest. She glanced around the room at the crowd of animals watching. “It seems we have a lot to catch up on. But first…” she suddenly leaned forward to whisper. “Can you get me a new dress? I don’t think my pink calico made it.”

  Mally almost laughed out loud. Ms. Bunny, the sweet, prim and proper little rabbit didn’t seem a bit phased at being ripped to pieces and stitched back together again. But running around without clothes on? That was too much.

  Lime buzzed over suddenly and dropped a bright blue cloth into Mally’s lap. He circled twice around her head and flittered off again to join Hoop by the window.

  Mally picked up the cloth and realized it was a beautifully stitched dress, perfect for Ms. Bunny. She held it out for her friend and helped her slip it on. It was a simply pieced sleeveless shift with a wide neck and gathers on both shoulders. It hung to just above her feet and made her look taller and somehow older as well.

  “What about that missing piece?” Mally asked. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

  “No worries, dear,” Ms. Bunny said. “It will all come together in the end.”

  “I think blue suits you, rabbit,” Patch said. He was stretched out in a warm sunbeam nearby.

  Ms. Bunny turned on her heel and marched over to the massive cat. For a second Mally thought she was going to smack him, but then she leapt on his side and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

  Patch closed his eyes as Ms. Bunny whispered something in his ear. Mally could hear his purr rumble up, even from across the room. They had never gotten along particularly well, but it seemed now the cat and the rabbit would be friends.

  Mally looked down and found she was still clutching her tiny pair of scissors. Seeing the cutting tool reminded her of the scissors on Menda’s back. They were still piled up in the center of the room, under a large piece of velvet fabric and a heap of smelly stuffing.

  Mally took a deep breath. It was time to start using the crown as Creo had instructed. She sank her hands into the fiber and thought hard. Can I make this disappear?

  An image of a clean room filled her head. Yes. Now to find the right words. Mally bit her lip, trying to hold her breath against the overwhelming smell of lavender. When the words came to her, she nearly laughed at how simple it was. “Go make this world better in some way.”

  A strong wind blew through the room and picked up the stuffing. It swirled between the patchwork animals like a snowstorm, then blew out the window. The room was silent for a beat, as all the animals stopped what they were doing and stared. Even Ms. Bunny was awestruck, her ears standing straight up in surprise.

  “You’ve been holding out on us, little Queen. You could have had me stitched back together in a second,” Patch said.

  “I’m not sure I’m doing it right. Would you really want to be my first test subject?” Mally asked, wiggling her fingers and everyone laughed.

  She pulled on the scrap of velvet, but it wouldn’t budge. The scissors were weighing the fabric down, making it impossible to flip over. On impulse she pressed her hand to the cloth and said, “Release.”

  All the scissors fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Mally flipped over the velvet and gasped. Words were stitched across the surface in silver thread. It hadn’t been visible with all the metal tools in the way, but now she could clearly read:

  I loved you with my whole heart, and you died.

  I gave you everything, but you died.

  I will miss you every day, and you will still be dead.

  Menda Amare – Mistaken Love

  In memory of my husband David Wright

  Grace Mallory Harrison Wright

  Mally’s heart plummeted. There was no denying the truth any longer. She snatched the cloth off the floor and bundled it up as fast as she could. She glanced around the room, hoping no one else had seen the words. She carried it over to her bookbag and shoved it into the very bottom.

  Then she piled the scissors on top and covered them with her sewing box. The bag made a noticeable metallic clanking sound, but hopefully she wouldn’t need to be sneaking around anywhere else.

  There was a cry from across the room. Ms. Bunny’s head had fallen back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Then she cried again, clutching her chest and collapsed to the floor.

  Mally was across the room in seconds. She scooped the doll up and cradled her in her hands.

  “Ms. Bunny! What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Everything feels… broken.”

  “What’s broken? Where does it hurt?” Mally looked around for Goldie. “She was stitched perfectly! What’s going on?” All the animals clustered close, their wide eyes staring, as the mouse darted up Mally
’s knee.

  “I have no idea.” Goldie pressed her paws over Ms. Bunny’s chest and shook her head. “It seems the missing spot is what’s giving her pain.”

  “Not me… the quilt…” Ms. Bunny gasped. “I can feel… the quilt…”

  “The quilt?” Mally didn’t understand.

  “Trust that witch to come up with a failsafe,” Patch growled. “She’s woven them together.”

  Mally rounded on him. “What do you mean? Woven what together?”

  “I’ve seen this before.” He sighed heavily. “The piece she ripped, she sent it into the landscape in a snarl. Told the fibers to weave themselves in deep. She tied the rabbit to the quilt and the quilt to the rabbit. It was one of her favorite games to play.”

  “So the pain she’s feeling…” Mally looked down at her best friend.

  “It’s an echo from Quilst,” Patch said. “Everything ripped apart, all seams frayed and split will be reflected in that spot.”

  “Echoes.” Mally touched the crown on her head and pain split through her skull. It lasted only for a fraction of a second, but that was long enough. She flinched, fighting back tears. Ms. Bunny was carrying this pain and soon she would be too. What had Creo said? She had until midnight.

  Can’t I fix her? She asked the crown in her mind. It placed two images before her. The first was the heart shape stitched over the doll’s chest. The second was Quilst, repaired and beautiful once again. The message was clear. She would be healed only when the quilt was fixed.

  She stroked Ms. Bunny’s soft ears and folded them across her chest for comfort. She set the doll into Hoop’s hands and rose shakily to her feet. All the animals scooted out of the way as she walked to the door.

  The remnants of the spider web barrier hung loosely from the frame. She could see dozens of thread colors, bits of ripped fabric, and a few pieces of a quilt block near the corner. It looked like a blue bears claw. Mally pulled it all down into a pile on the floor. She ran her fingers over the door frame and wall, checking that she got every bit of frayed fabric.