Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt

by Leah Day

  “Can I trust you to keep these safe?” Mally asked Hoop.

  The red bear rose slowly to her feet and held out the purple bag she’d just finished making. Mally scooped up the seven smaller scissors and placed them in the bag with a metallic clatter. Hoop held it up and spoke clearly, “I am Hoop, Scissor Guardian of Quilst, I will protect these tools and ensure they are never used to harm this world.”

  “Thank you Hoop,” Mally said and the tension over the scissors eased out of the room. She let her eyes travel over the walls and take in the gorgeous embroidery and delicate patterns being added and she couldn’t help but be happy the animals had made these improvements. She could only imagine how pretty it would look in a few days time.

  “Well, it looks like you’re all going to need a lot more fabric and thread,” she said, placing the five largest pairs of scissors carefully into her bookbag, then topping them with her empty sewing box.

  “As to that, we have several requests. We’ll make a list for you and bring it to the meeting at the Great Tree.” Hoop smiled.

  “Speaking of that, shouldn’t we get going?” Ms. Bunny asked. “The moons are rising so midnight can’t be far off.”

  “Could we fix this window first?” Patch asked, frowning at the little square in the wall.

  “I was thinking about a little deck,” Mally said. “With a bigger doorway. The suns are so beautiful and that would certainly brighten up the space. But how can I cut the fabric without hurting the quilt?”

  “I would hazard a guess,” Hoop put in, “that if you asked nicely, Queen Maker, it would be done with no damage to anyone.”

  With that, the bear clapped her huge paws, “That’s enough for today, Queen Company! We have a meeting at the Great Tree to attend so put your needles away and climb on!”

  All the mice, monkeys, and cats stashed their needles in a makeshift pincushion by the door and raced over to the bear. Hoop gripped her scissor bag in her mouth and shifted to stand on all fours so the smaller animals could scamper onto her back.

  “Yay! We’re going to the Great Tree!” two mice from the Christmas gang sang. “We’d better hurry or Queen Mally will beat us there. Go, Hoop, go!”

  The animals on Hoop’s back waved as the bear turned and bounded for the door. Mally could hear the steady patter of paws moving through the mountain. Birds of all shapes and sizes filled the sky. All the creatures of Quilst were on the move and headed for the Great Tree.

  Mally focused on the small window and altering it to be just exactly what Patch and the other flying animals would need to easily come and go. She considered her words as she walked over to the square cut into the wall.

  She pressed her hand against the purple fabric and an electric jolt shot up her arm to the crown on her head. The band twisted in place, but it didn’t hurt. She closed her eyes and imagined how she wanted the new doorway to look with a small deck outside surrounded by a braided railing.

  RRIIIIPPPPP!

  The purple fabric tore cleanly down the wall and curved over the window. She turned quickly to check on Ms. Bunny, but she was shaking her head.

  “It didn’t hurt. Not a bit. Let me see what you’ve made.”

  Mally scooped her up and turned to find the work nearly complete. The window had fashioned itself into a wide open door. Fabric ripped from the wall shifted outside to become a small balcony. She watched as threads braided together in midair to form a sturdy railing. It fit her imagination so perfectly it was almost scary.

  “I’d say that’s a job well done. Now don’t go forgetting how to stitch something by hand, little Maker,” Patch said, patting her on the back.

  “Of course not.” Mally said. Even now her fingers itched to add extra detail to the railing and color, any other color over this purple. She stepped out to the balcony and gripped the railing as the wind whipped through her hair.

  Quilst stretched below, and at least from this distance, appeared perfectly pieced. The light from the two moons shone silver over the curving landscape. A smile spread across her face as she searched for the glow of exposed batting and couldn’t spot a single patch.

  “It’s in much better shape, dear,” Ms. Bunny said with a sigh. “I can feel it coming back together.”

  “The crown is spinning so much slower,” Mally said, running her fingers over the shifting band. “I think a few things are still broken, but far less than it was earlier today. I just wish this had never happened to you.”

  “I know, dear.” Ms. Bunny took her hand and ran her soft paw over her stitches. “We’ll just have to make the best of the scars we carry from this adventure.”

  “Well ladies, I do believe we have a date with more broken junk and several hundred patchwork pals,” Patch said, stepping out onto the balcony with his colorful wings unfurled. “Shall we?”

  He took flight easily from the little platform and immediately they were surrounded by a variety of birds. Triangular flying geese began diving around them, creating beautiful patchwork patterns in the sky. A handful of hummingbirds buzzed around Mally’s head before speeding off for the Great Tree, closely followed by the swarm of honeybees.

  Mally laughed as the birds formed shapes together in midair, so close Patch had no choice but to fly through an endless stream of circles, squares and stars created by the happy geese. They were passing through a particularly long spinning tunnel made by birds lining up side to side when a thunderous roar sounded from below.

  The birds broke apart in a rush and Mally panicked, searching the ground for the source of the commotion. Animals packed the clearing around the Great Tree. Everyone was screaming, but she couldn’t see anything attacking them. The roar of sound filling the air was so close to the rumble of a snarl she reflexively reached for the seam ripper in her pocket.

  “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong,” Ms. Bunny said, pressing a paw against her hand. “They’re just celebrating.”

  Indeed they were. Fluffy chicks bounced up and down on Thimble’s back while monkeys and frogs did summersaults down the grassy hill. Pattern and Hoop were just bounding into the clearing with dozens of animals from the mountain riding on their backs. Mally spotted Oak’s mane of white hair near the Great Tree as they circled the field.

  Patch landed smoothly on the Nature Path to a storm of applause. He slowly walked up to the Great Tree while the crowd went wild all around them. Paws of every shape and size pressed against Mally’s legs. She clapped and cheered along with them, so happy to see all their colorful faces restored.

  But as they neared the tree, her crown began to spin. Mally suddenly pitched off Patch’s back, her head splitting in pain. The crown sent her flashes of broken seams, frayed threads, and a pile of debris nearly as tall as the Great Tree. For the first time an intense electric shock accompanied each image. She glanced up at the sky. The two moons were nearly directly overhead.

  The animals crowded tightly around her. Mally struggled to move against the press of their soft bodies. She could see the pile of broken pieces ahead but couldn’t reach it, and the crown wasn’t happy about it.

  “Make way for the Queen!” Patch roared and blessedly the path cleared. She ran straight for the hill of broken fiber and sank to her knees. The animals were shouting questions, but she ignored them all as she shoved her hands, right up to her elbows, into the damaged material. A tremor rippled through the ground and the crowd went quiet in time to hear Mally say the words:

  “Heal. Stitch yourself back together. Fix this world and make Quilst beautiful once more.”

  Immediately the pain in her head eased. She sat back on her heels and sighed as the crown finally stopped spinning. She barely noticed the ground shaking or the broken threads swirling around her. She sat in blissful stillness for a full minute as the last split seams of the quilt were repaired.

  Mally got shakily to her feet and looked around in surprise. I
t was like walking through a door and suddenly realizing she was on stage. Everyone was staring at her, standing eerily silent and still.

  Then as one, they bowed.

  Every animal from the tallest bear to the tiniest bumblebee lowered their head and sank to the ground before her. The landscape shook as their movement spread across the field. Mally’s heart squeezed. So many animals, so many beautiful creatures in this vast world. It was only just dawning on her what being the Queen of Quilst would mean.

  “Thank you… Thank you so much,” Mally said pressing her hands to her racing heart.

  They were just raising their heads when a booming voice rang out from the middle of the field, “All hail Mally the Maker, Queen of Quilst!”

  “Queen Mally! Queen Mally!” the crowd roared and she found herself scooped up by dozens of paws and carried to the Great Tree where Patch and Ms. Bunny waited.

  “Ready to tell the story, little Maker?”

  “Any chance you could do it for me?” Mally’s hands shook as she climbed onto Patch’s back. Ms. Bunny immediately scrambled onto her shoulder and she felt immensely comforted by her warm weight.

  “Nope. Not part of my job description.” Patch shrugged. “Just tell the story. You are wearing the crown and they clearly accept you as queen. They just want to know how it all happened.”

  So Mally told the story of the attack on the mountain and Menda’s horrible spider web wall. She found Pattern in the crowd and thanked him for catching her when the ropes attacked. It seemed all the bears favored a larger-than-life size so the small group stood out, nearly ten feet taller than everyone else.

  She explained how they ripped their way through the web wall, but were only able to get through because of the sacrifice of over one hundred flying geese, led by Sunshine. As they were mentioned, dozens of birds flew across the clearing, their triangles lined up perfectly side by side.

  They soared towards the Great Tree and on impulse Mally held her hands up high in the air. She had only seconds to find the right words as the birds rushed towards her. She skimmed her fingers along their fabrics and as they swirled back into the sky, their wings were marked with a glittering gold ring.

  “We would’ve been trapped without them,” Mally declared and the crowd cheered as the flock returned to the sky. “Please carry a piece of my crown, and my thanks with you forever.” The birds immediately began showing off, flying together, then splitting apart to create pretty patterns with their new wings.

  But one very important bird was missing. Mally frowned, searching for Sunshine, but she couldn’t find her. Ms. Bunny asked what was wrong and Mally just shook her head and continued with the story.

  She explained how Goldie and her gang of mice led them through the tunnels and into the witch’s mountain. Cheers went up as the smallest creatures of Quilst were picked up and applauded by the entire crowd.

  The hardest part of the story was what happened inside the mountain room. Mally looked down at Patch who nodded, giving her permission to tell the whole story.

  So she did. She explained how they tricked Menda into thinking Patch had betrayed them until the last second. A collective gasp went through the gathering as she described the witch’s back ripping away and the scissors falling to the ground.

  The greatest roar went up as Patch yelled, “And then the crown fell from her head. The Ripping Witch is no more!”

  Mally felt the crowd’s excitement and happiness flowing through the crown. She looked up to the sky and imagined fireworks bursting above them and suddenly they were there in the sky. Colorful threads burst in all directions and rained down in bright, glittery streams. It was quite awhile before the crowd calmed down.

  Ms. Bunny tugged on Mally’s sleeve. “We could still use some help finding your missing Grandma. Why don’t you ask for help?”

  Mally felt uncomfortable, remembering Oak’s dismissive attitude and Shadow’s cryptic comments. “What if they say no?”

  “Why don’t you ask and see?”

  So Mally gathered her courage. She raised her hands again and the crowd gradually grew quiet.

  “Thank you all for your help today. I know many were lost or broken in the attack. I never want that to happen again. Now there are two tasks left for us. We need to find Menda’s body. It fell out of the mountain room, so it should be somewhere in that area. Also please continue collecting anything broken, any fabrics ripped or threads cut and bring them here. Everything can be repaired and all the friends we lost today can be remade!”

  A large turkey stepped out of the crowd. Mally recognized it as Spool from the meeting the night before. “If Mally the Maker desires, I can take a squad of turkeys and begin the search around the mountain base.”

  “Yes, um… but there is one more thing.” Mally squared her shoulders. “My Grandma, the Maker of this world is still missing.”

  A strange murmur ran through the crowd. Seam, the sentry of the Great Tree stepped forward, his dark body stretching nearly fifteen feet tall.

  “We have learned today that this Maker you speak of is in fact the Maker of the Ripping Witch.”

  Mally froze. The crowd went silent, all eyes staring at her. She felt like she’d been slapped. Ms. Bunny shifted closer on her shoulder and whispered quietly in her ear, “They all know, Mally. There’s no way to hide it. Best be as honest as you can, dear.”

  She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Yes, my Grandma made Menda.” A shudder rippled through the crowd. Bodies shifted around her, restless and agitated.

  “I don’t know the whole story. I don’t know why she did it, but I still need your help finding her.”

  Seam crossed his arms over his chest, drawing his body up so he towered over her. Even on Patch’s back she felt tiny.

  “We will help. We will search, but when she is found this Maker must leave and never return. The Maker of Menda is not welcome here.”

  * * * * *

  Hours later Mally rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She’d finally had a chance to tour the Great Tree and climb the beautiful woven spiral staircase. Multiple rooms were arranged on each floor, their walls curving with the shape of the tree trunk. It was exactly as she’d imagined it, right down to the tree shaped lanterns on the wall.

  But she had always imagined being here with Grandma, sewing together in the little nook downstairs, reading in the sunshine and walking around the massive branches outside. So much of the fun in the imagining was thinking of how they would spend time together here.

  She had argued against kicking Grandma out of Quilst last night. She’d asked for more time before an ultimate decision was made. Maybe if they knew the whole story, Menda’s existence would make more sense. But in the end, she had to acquiesce to their near unanimous demand.

  The weight of her crown felt too heavy to bear as she proclaimed the words, “Please seek out and find my Grandma, Grace Mallory Wright. It’s time for her to go home. The Maker of Menda must leave the world of Quilst.”

  She’d paused here, but Oak’s head had risen from the crowd next to Seam. The horse glared across the field and Mally had no choice. “Forever,” she added in a whisper.

  * * * * *

  This is Grandma’s quilt! Mally thought, punching her pillow viciously. Grandma made it. If anyone should be queen, it should be her! But where in the world is she?

  She picked up the silk scarf from her bedside table and ran the soft fabric through her fingers. In the dim light, she couldn’t see the blotch of blue paint on the end. That mistake was only visible in the light.

  Mally closed her eyes and focused on the light weight and silky texture sliding against her skin. She wished she could go back to that hot day painting in the sunshine with Grandma.

  So much had happened. Everything had changed and she wasn’t sure she really knew who her Grandma was now. How could s
he have made Menda? Why? The same questions swirled endlessly through her head until she finally drifted off to sleep.

  * * * * *

  Mally blinked and found herself standing in a strange place. Patchwork steps in a random mix of colors stretched out below.

  She caught a sudden movement in the corner of her eye and turned quickly to find a dark shape crouched before an Open Door. Mally recognized the teal frame. This was the quilt block she’d used to replace the door ruined by Menda’s tornado.

  But the light in the door was flickering. It blinked out for a second, then came back on, then out again. Mally squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Then pain, more intense and immediate than she’d ever felt before split through her head.

  She gripped her face with both hands as the crown wrenched this way and that. Tears clouded her eyes as she fell to her knees.

  “Do I have your attention, Mally May? Can you see me, or do I need to do more damage?” The dark shape shifted. Menda’s horrible white face was suddenly illuminated in the bright light.

  However deformed she’d looked in the mountain room, nothing could prepare Mally for the sight of her now. She crouched on all fours, the fabric of her torso twisted so many times it formed a kink in her back.

  She’d lost significant amounts of stuffing from her legs, arms and head. What little stuffing was left was shoved tight to the tips of her appendages, leaving her limbs disturbingly floppy.

  Her neck couldn’t support the weight of her head. It sagged between her shoulders like a deflated balloon. With a spastic jerk, she twisted her head all the way around, the velvet fabrics protesting with a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Yes, you must be here.” Menda waggled her head from side to side, one of her mitten hands clutching the door frame. A small metal seam ripper was stuck in the teal fabric. Mally instantly recognized the little tool. It was the one she’d lost cutting Sunshine free.