When Chenille Is Not Enough

The cream and gold wallpaper shimmered. Susan sensed the walls losing their substance as an image appeared behind them. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, new surroundings appeared, superimposed on her familiar living room like a double exposure.

“Am I on a space ship?” Susan was not certain she spoke aloud.

“Yes.”

The voice was not Bozidar’s, and seemed to be coming from the center of her brain rather than through her ears. Susan sensed the voice was female - and alien.

Images from Bozidar’s story flickered around her. She watched the crash and the discovery. She saw a child standing at the back of a cart, then that child grew to a woman. The woman embroidered intricate flowers on a piece of silk, then the scene dissipated like morning fog. Susan’s familiar wallpaper and furniture surrounded her once again.

“You saw?” Bozidar asked.

Susan nodded. “I would have said you hypnotized me, except that the vision showed more than what you told us. What happened?”

“What did you see?” Cecily asked.

Susan smiled. “Agnes the Great and her magic embroidery needle.” She faced Bozidar. “I’m waiting for that explanation.”

“Can you describe to me every aspect of human abilities?” Bozidar asked. “We can change the image we present to other species, and leave a part of ourselves in the remnants of our disguise. I can assure you that the process works, but I never learned how.”

Susan heard the room grow still. They’re holding their breath, she thought, waiting for me to decide. She looked to the empty spot where Agnes embroidered a quilt square, shook her head and said, “That’s not good enough. At least tell us what you mean about the leader leaving a piece of herself in the quilt.”

Bozidar’s eyes and lips crinkled into a relieved smile, and his curls jiggled as if released from a lead helmet. “Everyone in my clan knows that story. Our leaders are not so different from yours. Some are good, some are stupid, some are evil. On rare occasions, in times of crisis, a leader arises who transcends the present. The leader Agnes met sacrificed herself so that the remainder of the landing party could live. Then she offered her own skin to seal the covenant.”

Susan dropped the quilt. “Eww. Mother, did you know about this?”

“Agnes left out that part of the story,” Edna said as she retrieved the quilt. She pulled the top back and examined the foundation. “Space boy, unless your leader got a tattoo while she was here, I’d say someone was tripping when they told that story. This is just a flour sack.”

She showed the snippet of lettering. Susan and Louise both inspected the fabric. They nodded, then passed the quilt to Scott. He took it to the window and examined the writing. He offered it to Cecily, who shook her head. Gary and Kyle also declined to touch the quilt.

“It definitely looks like a flour sack to me,” Scott said as he handed the quilt to Edna and returned to his seat. “I’m old enough to remember my mother buying fifty pounds of flour in cloth sacks.” He held his pen over the notebook and his eyes on Bozidar.

“None of the critters we saw left as much as a scrap of themselves when they died,” Edna said. She sat on the couch and crossed her arms.

“They could not,” Bozidar said. “They died in battle, without time to prepare themselves. They were also idiots. I doubt they thought far enough ahead to bring someone trained in transformation rituals.”

He looked from face to face. Joy died in his eyes. He sat on the chair. “The clan transformed into flour sacks because that is what was at hand. But the leader had a gift. She could imprint a part of herself on whatever she transformed into. She knew she could not make the journey home - ”

“Why not?” Scott asked.

Bozidar sighed. “When they repaired their ship, they found it did not have enough energy or supplies to bring all the remaining crew home. The leader stayed behind. She was injured, and knew she would not survive the journey. She left a trace of herself in her disguise - the flour sack. Agnes promised to make it into an artifact that would stay with her family forever. The artifact would link our clan and your family.”

“So that’s what drew the others to Mom’s store? Not the lavender?” Cecily asked.

Bozidar nodded, then turned to Susan. “Your love of lavender is one effect of the artifact on your family. The link runs both ways. If the clan had made contact in the proper way, when your people were ready, you would have recognized us as allies.”

Louise raised her hand. “What about me?” She looked at Kyle. “You wondered how I knew the aliens were back. I didn’t answer you because I couldn’t.” Turning back to Bozidar, she asked, “So how did I know? I’m not a relative, so there wouldn’t be any link.”

Bozidar clasped his hands under his chin. “It is possible that your . . . experiences . . . with my clan sensitized you to us.” He lowered his head and stared at his knees. “That is an issue, however. The others who were with you may also be able to recognize me.” He raised his head, turning from Louise to Susan. “Would the others be equally distrusting of me?”

Gary snorted. “Anyone who saw one of those monsters coming after him wouldn’t trust you as far as he could throw you.” His voice trailed as he finished speaking. He shook his head as if someone had slugged him and he needed to clear his brain. “You know, we never did find out if the bolts that attacked me went back to Susan’s shop.”

Bozidar leaned forward. “What do you mean, the ones who attacked you? There was nothing about this in the movie.”

“I decided that part didn’t fit,” Cecily said. She glanced at Gary then dropped her head. “It didn’t contribute to the story arc in a meaningful way.”

“Unfortunate,” Bozidar whispered. His shoulders trembled. He closed his eyes. “Please, tell me what happened.”

Gary cleared his throat. “The ladies at Queen of the Needles returned a box of defective fabric. That was the story they told me.” He nodded at Louise. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Louise closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ll always regret telling you a lie.” She opened her eyes. “We didn’t know what to do. We packed up the bolts, and dumped the problem on Gary.”

“Well, you did tell me to leave the window open,” he said. “Something about a bad finish and toxic fumes. I did, and it probably saved my life.” He looked at Bozidar. “Your cousins broke out of the carton and tried to rush me. I remember green smoke everywhere, and flames. I crashed the delivery van. It rolled on its side, and I crawled out the window. I could barely breathe, my hands were burned, and I couldn’t see. A couple of cops saw the accident and helped me get away before the van exploded. They didn’t believe my story about bolts of fabric with legs, so of course no one went looking for them.”

“But did they burn in the fire? Or did they escape?” Bozidar asked.

Susan scanned the room, observing the silence. They’re still waiting for me. “We don’t know. We were never sure how many bolts there were. A few went to every quilt store in the area.”

Scott nodded. “I tried to estimate their numbers at the shop, but never could. When the battle ended, there was no way to count the bodies because there weren’t any. They disintegrated where they fell.”

Bozidar shook his head. A low moan gurgled from his throat.

Susan squared her shoulders. “I’m guessing this is bad news.”

“Oh, yes, very bad.” Bozidar rose from the chair. He hesitated, then paced as every human eye watched. “My clan will be very angry with me for telling you our shameful secrets.”

“They’re already pissed off with you,” Edna said, “so spill the beans. They can only kill you once.”

“Mother!” Susan hissed.

“No,” Bozidar said, strength returning to his voice. “She is correct. Keeping secrets caused all of this. My clan has a glorious history, but our present is not distinguished. There are some who wish to return to the time when the mere glimpse of our beige soldiers would have other clans cowering in their homes. Those who came here were convinced that if they could subjugate your planet they would bring honor and power to the clan.”

“Instead they got their butts kicked,” Cecily said. “So when you said you came here to avenge their deaths, that wasn’t the whole truth. You were also sent to salvage your reputation, right?”

Bozidar nodded. “Yes. But I was also sent to make sure there were no . . . oh, what is the word? Remnants.”

“Stragglers?” Susan and Scott asked at the same time.

“Yes, that is the word!” Bozidar smiled for an instant, then slumped into the chair. “Stragglers,” he repeated.

“You don’t know how many of your people came here, do you?” Susan asked.

Bozidar shook his head. “It was a clandestine operation, after all. They did not send the names of those involved to the clan elders. When we discovered what happened - ”

“Yeah, how did you find out?” Cecily asked.

Bozidar rolled his eyes. “Those in charge of monitoring your planet were humiliated by the lapse in security that allowed our clan members to leave without our knowledge. The families who lost loved ones here were also embarrassed, so some of them hid their involvement. Our investigation was hampered by their lack of cooperation, so we were never certain we had a complete list of the lost.”

Susan’s hands and feet went numb. “And by the lost, you don’t just mean the dead.”

“No,” Bozidar said in small, tight voice.

“Good lord,” Scott whispered.

Edna jumped to her feet. “You mean some of those critters are still out there?”

Bozidar’s shoulders crept up to his ears, and his voice became even smaller. “Very likely.”

This is it, Susan thought. We need to unite now, and I have to make that happen. She crossed her fingers and opened her mouth. When no words came out and no thoughts appeared in her brain, she inhaled. Dust caught in her throat, setting off a series of explosive coughs.

“Mom, are you okay?” Cecily asked.

Susan waved one hand at her daughter while pounding on her own chest with the other. “I’m fine,” she croaked. She still had no ideas, but prepared once again to speak. “It seems to me,” she began, when another series of coughs interrupted her. “I’m okay,” she said with a wheeze.

Gary dashed to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Cecily handed him the tissue box and he gave both the glass and the box to Susan.

She sipped, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “We’ve got a choice - trust Bozidar and work with him to find out if the others escaped, or go it alone.” She crumbled the tissue, searched for the trash can, then rose with cautious dignity. She found the can and discarded the tissue. “Agnes gave his ancestors the benefit of the doubt, and it turned out pretty well for her.” Facing Bozidar, she said, “I’m willing to take a leap of faith.”

“Mom, he came to kill you,” Cecily said.

Susan went to Cecily and grasped her hands. “I know.”

Silence crept around the baseboards and up the curtains, until Edna clapped her hands and said, “All right! Adventure time!”

Scott tugged on her elbow. “Dear, a little less glee. We are taking about alien invaders and death threats.” Edna growled, but he continued, “I agree we need an ally, and there is only one available. But we still need a plan.” He said to Bozidar, “How do you intend to apprehend the renegade members of your clan?”

“My cousins were drawn to this area by the remnants of our ancestor,” Bozidar said. “The clan leaders believe that if any survived they have remained here. They would have sensed my arrival. My instructions were to wait until they contacted me, then evaluate the situation.”

“Why wait?” Scott asked. “If they can sense you, why can’t you sense them?”

Bozidar’s body jerked as if he had touched a live power line. “I was given orders,” he said.

“So disobey them,” Edna said. “Clear your mind, or conjure up a trance, or whatever it is you critters do. Call them on your little black box. Tell them they’re busted and you’re taking them back home.”

A green haze clouded Bozidar’s features, drifted down his body and puddled around his ankles. The sharp scent of burnt caramel wafted through the room. His jaw developed jowls and his ear lobes drooped. “You have no idea what you are asking,” he whimpered.

“Sure I do,” Edna said. “You’re in so much trouble now, one more charge against you is nothing. But if you pull it off, you’ll be forgiven.”

“That’s right,” Susan said. “That’s why I think we can trust him. He needs us as much as we need him.”

Cecily turned to her mother, her grandmother, then Scott. He nodded, as did Gary and Kyle. “Okay,” Cecily said. “I guess we’re agreed.”

Kyle withdrew the black box from his pocket. He rotated it in his hand, and tapped the side with his thumb. When everyone nodded in agreement, he offered the box to Bozidar.

Bozidar grasped the box and tapped a code on the panel. He cleared his throat. “Hello, Marsel. Yes, I am well. But we need another small change in the plan. Do not object, my hands are tied. Almost literally. Let me switch to projection mode. Activate your translator. Just do it, Marsel.”

Bozidar tapped another code, then set the box on the coffee table. A stream of tangerine light flowed two feet into the air, then spread like a fan. Marsel’s head shimmered into view.

“Can you see me now?” Bozidar asked. “Clear image and sound? Good.” He rotated the box, turning Marsel’s face toward Susan. He motioned Edna and Cecily to stand with her. “You know Cecily. This is her mother, Susan, and her grandmother, Edna. Say hello to the descendants of She Who Found Us.”

Marsel squeaked, a hole appeared in the middle of his face, and his edges rippled like egg whites beaten to a froth. The sound of something falling rang from the projection, then Marsel ducked out of view.

“He didn’t do that before,” Cecily said, directing her comment to Bozidar.

“It has been a difficult day,” Bozidar muttered. He touched the box, and the tangerine light winked out. “You can come back now. I have disengaged the projection.”

“Give me that,” Edna said. She snatched the box from Bozidar’s hand.

“Try not to frighten him, dear,” Scott said.

She scowled at him, then at the image on the box’s screen. “Don’t even think about moving. We’ve got your boy down here, so you better listen. We’re pretty damn tired of you folks dropping in whenever you feel like it and causing trouble. We don’t have any quarrel with you, so stop picking fights with us.” She wriggled out from behind the coffee table and stood next to Bozidar. She lifted the box as if she were taking a picture of the two of them. “Notice how he’s in remarkably good shape considering he came here to kill my daughter. He’ll stay that way as long as you go back to your bosses and tell them that we want some help catching your renegade cousins.”

“Mother!” Susan said. “We’re not taking him hostage! Give me that.” She held out her hand. Edna frowned, but gave her the box. Susan held it at eye level, with her arm extended. “Hello, Marsel. I’m Susan. We can solve everyone’s problems if we work together. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones if your people are. I’m certain you want Bozidar back, as well as anyone left behind from your last visit. Please assure your leaders of our willingness to keep the whole incident as quiet as possible.” She smiled at the screen and handed the box to Bozidar.

A metallic tone, like a brass gong hit by a teaspoon, sounded from the box just as a tiny flash of blue light flickered from the kitchen. Gary and Kyle dashed out of the living room, followed by Cecily. A moment later she returned.

“Mom,” she said, “there are bolts of beige fabric in the back yard. And they have legs.”