Patchwork People

Pinpin couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Needly, the person they were doing this entire journey for, was now sabotaging them right in front of her eyes. Part of her wanted to close her eyes, to pretend that this was some awful dream and that when she opened them again, the Ragworm would still be there. But what she was seeing was more than real. Needly was there right now, yelling and screaming as the Ragworm fled into the distance. There was only one thing Pinpin could think about.

Why?

It was unfathomable. What did they do wrong? Sure, they’d made a mistake, and Needly wasn’t exactly on the best terms with her and Tatterbat, but she never imagined it would be like this. What was on Needly’s mind to cause him to act like this? She wanted to shout out, to tell him to stop, but she found herself just standing with her mouth agape like a cottonbrain. Pinpin could only watch as her goal disappeared before her eyes.

SNAP.

Pinpin barely even saw it happen. One second, Needly was jumping and shouting, scaring the Ragworm away. The next, he’d grabbed Tatterbat’s net, and in a fit of rage, broke it in two.

A blurry shape flew past her as Tatterbat charged toward Needly. He was completely silent; his usual loud shouts and outbursts when dealing with Needly were gone, and Pinpin knew that meant nothing good. Tatterbat sprinted as fast as he could, and held his arms out wide open as he slammed into Needly, wrapping himself around the boy as they tumbled to the floor. Needly wriggled to free himself, but Tatterbat held onto him tight, with a face of pure rage.

“Let go of me right now!” Needly yelled, but Tatterbat did not respond. He didn’t have time to shout insults, or talk back, or even hit him. All Tatterbat wanted to do now was restrain Needly, and prevent him from causing further damage.

The two scuffled on the floor, rolling in the dirt until it stained their fabric brown. Pinpin ran over to them, watching as the fight unfurl. She desperately attempted to break them up, but found that there was no opening for her to get involved. Every time she got close, they moved away. If she stuck in a limb, it got swatted away like a pesky bug. Pinpin could only watch in despair at the chaos of it all, dust and leaves flying all over the place.

No more. She could take no more of this. Pinpin breathed in hard, and shut her eyes tight. She tensed up her muscles, and let out an almighty shout.

“STOP IT!”

It took awhile for her to open her eyes again. Her arms her straight down by her sides. They were shaking, half in fear and half in anger, with her fists clenched tight. When she did finally muster the courage to open her eyes, she found they were starting to water, which she quickly wiped away.

Needly was on the floor, wriggling about. His arms were tied behind his back with string - the same string they’d taken from the lakeside hut. Tatterbat held the other end tight, with a foot on Needly’s back to stop him getting away. His eyes radiated a fiery anger, and his normal toothy grin was replaced with a fierce snarl.

“Let me go! Scoundrel! Rascal!” Needly shouted, throwing insults about as he tried to free himself.

Tatterbat didn’t say a word. He simply held him tight. He looked over at Pinpin, and as he did, the anger in his eyes hid itself for just a moment, replaced by determination.

“I’ll take care of him. You better get after that Ragworm.”

“Tatterbat, you…” Pinpin barely had the words. What did she want to say? You genius, you managed to subdue him. You poor boy, your net is in pieces on the floor. You fool, now Needly’s going to be twice as mad. Nothing really put across the complex mixture of emotions that was boiling inside her right now.

Tatterbat rubbed the back of his head. “Don’t worry about me now, I’ve got more important things to do than get into a fight with this sneezebag.” He looked straight into her eyes. “Go!”

Pinpin knew what she had to do. The Ragworm was getting away, and this was her last chance to stop it. Even if Needly was here right now, destroying everything they were working toward, she still had a mission to complete. Kicking her legs into high gear and grabbing her bag, Pinpin sprinted past the two patchwork boys. Deep in her mind, she knew that without her, things could get ugly, but she could only hope that it wouldn’t happen. There was something else she had to do first.

The sounds of the scuffle faded into the distance as Pinpin followed the Ragworm’s trail. Broken trees and upturned bushes littered the landscape, zigzagging left and right. The worm itself was nowhere to be seen, and Pinpin prayed it hadn’t fled down into one of the giant holes in the ground. If it did that, then it would be game over. There would be no way to track it if that was the case. Pinpin ran forward as fast as her little legs could carry her, but even she knew that her fastest was no match for the Ragworm’s speed, which she had seen first hand as it fled.

Pinpin ran and ran, and then ran some more, delving into the unknown portions of the woods with no care of her own wellbeing. Tatterbat had given her the opportunity to take back their lost prize, and she was not intending to waste that chance. Pinpin carried with her only her backpack, and what little remained inside jostled about noisily as she moved. Thorns scratched her legs as she waded through bushes that had been ripped out of the ground. Branches smacked her in the face, threatening to undo the stitches that covered her recent wound. But still she carried on.

Suddenly, Pinpin collapsed. Her legs would carry her no further. They were aching all over, having been pushed beyond their limit.

“No! I can still… carry on…” she protested between gasps, taking in as much air as she could. Her mind was yelling to continue, but deep down she knew she had to rest. There was nothing more she could do in this state, lest she rip and tear her seams. A short break was mandatory. Five minutes was all she could afford. Just enough to give her some breathing room, and calm down her scattered brain.

She stumbled toward a nearby tree, and she slumped beside it. Pinpin rubbed her legs to ease the pain, feeling them throb as the stuffing inside struggled to settle after the intense bout of exercise. Her vision was slightly blurry, and Pinpin found herself struggling to focus on the scenery. Even the giant rock that lay in front of her was rough around the edges, seeming to move up and down as her vision became cloudy.

Her brain was frazzled. Everything had become uprooted at once, with the entire situation turned upside down. If it were anyone else, they would’ve given up. But Pinpin was not anyone else. She was a Bug Master. She could get through this. Once she stood up, all she had to do was follow the trail, and all would be well in the end. Right?

Pinpin attempted to stand. Nearly instantly, her legs gave way, and she fell clumsily to the floor. A cold sense washed over her, and Pinpin struggled to keep her eyes open. She could feel the tears building up in her eyes. You can get through this. You can do it. You are a Bug Master!

Watery tears burst from her eyes before she even had time to realise she was crying. She tried to stop herself, but once the waterworks started, it was the only thing she could do. Everything they’d worked so hard for had disappeared before their very eyes. Their entire adventure, the dangers they’d been through, had resulted in nothing. She didn’t want to believe it, but the reality was setting in. They had failed. Not just that, but their one encounter with Ragworm - a creature so rare scarcely anyone had seen it - had been soiled by Needly.

Needly. Pinpin didn’t even want to think of that name. Why would he do this? That was the only question she could think of. Why, why, why? There was no reason for it! Pinpin buried her face in her hands and leaned back against the tree. She lifted her knees up against her face and wrapped her arms around them. She had never felt so gutted in her entire life. Here she was, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar things. Tatterbat wasn’t even around to comfort her. Pinpin was alone in the woods, and worst of all, she’d left the map behind.

The vicious orange of the evening faded, and with it came the dark, murky blue of the night. As darkness surrounded her, Pinpin’s tears faded, replaced by a sense of unknown fear. The wind felt chilly. The sounds of the night birds seemed threatening. All Pinpin could do was bunch up into a ball and hope nothing would happen. The darkness was enveloping her. Day two had already come and gone, and they were nearly out of time. Even if she had found Ragworm by this point, there was no way she could get home before the deadline. They had failed, and that notion robbed Pinpin of her ability to cry. All she could do was sniffle and croak.

At that moment, the ground shook. Pinpin nearly tumbled over at the vibrations, keeping herself up by holding onto a branch that stuck out from the tree behind her. Her head darted left and right, looking around frantically for the source. There was nothing around her. Nothing close, anyway. The darkness had created a black fog that meant she could barely see more than twenty meters in any direction.

Another shake, more extreme than before. Leaves and pinecones fell from the tree and smacked Pinpin on the head. What was causing that? An intense fear tugged at Pinpin’s strings. She scoured the landscape, looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Left, right. Left, right. Finally, her eyes settled on the fuzzy rock in front of her. It had shifted, but that wasn’t the only thing that was odd. That’s strange, Pinpin thought to herself, my vision is fine now. Why is it still fuzzy?

She waved a hand in front of her face to make sure she was still seeing correctly. Everything was fine. The trees next to the rock were sharp, and so was the ground. Her vision was clearly ok. Pinpin squinted at the rock, giving herself a second opinion. There was no mistaking it. This rock was outlined with a soft fuzz, like a thin layer of moss.

Wait a minute. A revelation roared up in her head like an engine. That’s not fuzz. That’s string.

Pinpin gasped, and her eyes widened in surprise. If that was string, then that meant…

The rock moved. As it did, the ground shook again, sending Pinpin back to the floor. She looked up at the rock, and saw a shape move behind it. No, that wasn’t a shape behind the rock. The shape was part of the rock. A rock that was now slithering away, with segmented sections and a round, bulbous head. A rock that had button eyes and a stitched up mouth. A rock that was heading toward her, at a speed that was just a bit too fast for comfort.

“R-R-Ragworm?” Pinpin stuttered, barely managing to get the words out. Too many thoughts were racing in her mind to concentrate on speaking. Why was it here? Is it angry at her? Has it been here the whole time? She scrambled to get away, and backed up against the tree as much as she could, hoping that it would somehow camouflage her.

The Ragworm slid toward her, until it’s face was right up next to hers. Pinpin took sharp breaths, unable to keep her eyes off or even blink. Her hand slipped against the tree, and she collapsed onto the ground. As if it were mimicking her, the Ragworm did the same thing, and thumped its head against the ground, lying still. It gazed at the patchwork girl lying on the ground, who was too perplexed to even pick herself up. Its button eyes gave no insight as to what it was thinking. The only thing Pinpin could see in them was her own reflection, which stared back at her with its mouth open, looking like an idiot.

The Ragworm turned its head slowly. It peered at the wet patch on the floor, where Pinpin’s tears had stained the ground. It looked back at Pinpin, and back at the floor. It seemed to be piecing together a puzzle in its head, as its stitched mouth brought itself from its usual smile into a neutral position.

The worm made one final head movement, solidifying its gaze on Pinpin. Then, with a gentle movement, it leaned forward and nudged her face.

“Stop the crying, patchwork girl.”

The worm didn’t say that out loud, of course. Pinpin simply imagined the words in her head, silently translating the worm’s action as it gave the gentle nudge. Her squeaker was pounding fast in her chest, and her eyes stung from the crying. But as the Ragworm sat by her, she found her worries hiding away. Her panicked breaths calmed themselves, and her mouth slowly turned from wide fear to a nervous smile.

Pinpin wiped away her lingering tears with a final sniff. She moved carefully, trying not to startle the beast, and placed a hand on its cheek. It was warm, with a comforting aura that seemed to dissipate all her woes. Getting to her feet, Pinpin simply stood and looked at the Ragworm, taking in the scene. The most fearsome beast in the Patchwork Plains was comforting her in a time of need. And by the looks of it, she was doing the same thing. Compared to earlier, the Ragworm was much calmer, and showed no fear of running into the night.

A giggle burst from her mouth. She tried to contain it, and stuck a hand over her mouth, but another escaped from the corner of her lips. The Ragworm leant back in mild surprise. Unable to contain herself, Pinpin erupted into fits of laughter, driving away the sadness and loneliness. The situation was so bizarrely absurd she couldn’t help it. Her knees buckled under her, and she held her stomach tight as it hurt with the overwhelming laughter. As much as she tried, she couldn’t keep her voice down.

During this moment, the Ragworm studied her. It tilted its head and moved back and forth, trying to deduce this action the girl was making. As if trying to copy her, it slammed the back of its tail against the floor like a dog. As it did so, the Ragworm curled up its body and uncurled it, and moved about in a slow, rhythmic fashion.

“Wait here.” Pinpin said, through fits of giggles. She wandered over to the bag that she’d thrown against a bush earlier. Thankfully, it was still in one piece, as she placed a trembling hand inside. When she felt the cold metal of the camera inside, she pulled it out and held it in front of her.

To her surprise, the Ragworm seemed to get excited at this event. It practically bounced over to Pinpin, knocking the camera out of her hands and holding it in the threads between its mouth.

“Hey! What gives? You camera shy?” Pinpin asked. This was an unusual reaction, given that Pinpin doubted it knew what a camera was.

The Ragworm turned to Pinpin, and dropped the camera on the floor in front of her feet. It moved its head up and down, tail slamming against the floor in glee. When Pinpin leant down to pick up the camera, the Ragworm moved its nose toward it and sniffed the camera intensely, like it was remembering a smell that it last experienced long ago.

Now it was Pinpin’s turn to piece together the puzzle. Parts of her memory flew past her vision like bubbles, each one ready to pop with crucial information. Time seemed to slow down as she picked pieces of memory to mash together, trying to create that final puzzle piece to finish the picture that lay before her now.

Yarnfell’s map. His knowledge of the worm and desire to see it. The reaction to the camera. The fact that they were even given the camera in the first place. Slowly, the bubbles merged together, creating a supersized ball of information. With an imaginary finger, Pinpin popped it, and the answer she needed burst into her mind.

“You… You know Yarnfell, don’t you?” she asked.

The Ragworm’s horns seemed to perk up at the mention of the name. That settled it. The two knew each other, and apparently not just as acquaintances.

“How is that possible, he told us he’d never seen you before…”

Thinking back on that, had he said that? Yarnfell was very eager to find a Ragworm, to the point where he’d given them all this help along the way. His shady, mysterious nature had left a lot to the imagination. Was is possible they’d met before?

“How long for?” Pinpin said, before realising the dumbness of the question. The Ragworm couldn’t exactly give her the answer. She could only guess the amount. Days? Months? Years? Whatever the number, it was enough to give this giant creature a sense of joy at the mere scent of Yarnfell.

Pinpin snapped back to reality. With the camera in her hands, she held it up for the Ragworm to see.

“Well, we can’t let him down now, can we?” She said. Her fear of the creature was almost completely gone. If Yarnfell could be friends with it, then so could she. Holding the camera toward her, she posed beside the Ragworm, which stared at the camera, seemingly knowing what to do already. Pulling the largest grin she could muster, she pressed down on the button.

Snap!

The flash blinded Pinpin for a spell. She held onto her head with her hands, and heard as the Ragworm slammed against the floor. Oops, she thought. I probably should’ve waited until morning for that. Given that the soc-soc seemed to be stunned by the flash, she should’ve had more caution when dealing with a beast the size of Ragworm.

Slowly, her vision came to. With that out of the way, Pinpin packed the camera away, and walked over to Ragworm, who was sprawled on the floor in a daze. Letting a giggle loose, Pinpin patted the Ragworm on its cheek. It reacted with a muffled purr, and nudged Pinpin back in response. While it tried to be gentle, it was enough to send Pinpin to the floor once more. She laughed it off, bouncing back up like a rubber ball. Her entire body might have been filthy and covered in small pricks and cuts, but Pinpin had never felt better. Whatever happened now, they had finished their mission. The only tricky part now was what to do with Needly.

“Oh!” Pinpin gasped. She’d completely forgotten about Tatterbat! A rush of guilt flooded her. Her best friend was currently somewhere in these woods, potentially still brawling with his heated rival. It would be no surprise if the campsite was full of cotton and yarn, given how long Pinpin had been absent.. In all the commotion, she had barely even considered what was happening with him.

That posed another problem, however. Unfortunately, Pinpin did not know the way back.

“Oh no. This will not do.” She bunched her hands into fists and lightly bopped the top of her head. Seeing this motion, the Ragworm turned toward her, curious as to what this tiny patchwork girl was doing.

Pinpin looked at Ragworm.

“Hey…”she started to say, but stopped herself. The Ragworm might not even understand what she wanted.

Oh well. There was no going back now.

“Can you help me find my friend? I’d hate for him to be alone in these woods. He’s back at the site we found you.”

The Ragworm stood motionless for a second, as if remembering an action. It gave a clumsy gesture that seemed to resemble a nod. Pinpin wondered if it had learnt that from Yarnfell back in the day, or if it was just some motion that it knew innately. Either way, it wanted to help, and that was all that mattered.

It turned away and started to move amongst the trees. When it got a good distance away, it turned back toward Pinpin, beckoning her to follow.

Grabbing her rucsac, and with a new sense of adventure, Pinpin started to walk.