Play of Shadows

2.16: Needle's Ear

The scene knitted together stitch by stitch, stringing the players along on its hook. One by one, they appeared: Ten button-eyed dolls the size of a man's palm, neatly sewn to match the players' likeliness and garb.

The dolls dropped into a basket filled with yarn. Childish laughter rang out on cue. Four small, thin hands stretched out from the dark and grabbed two dolls each. Eight players disappeared at once. All fell still again, time stretching over a fraying line.

The basket shook. A ball of yarn the color of old peas rolled away, revealing a small doll in a pretty red dress. The doll's button eyes rolled this way and that, observing her surroundings. She struggled out of the pile of yarn with some difficulty. The dress puffed up in agitation, the skirts ruffling out like a cat with its fur up.

Ann patted at her face. A small ceramic mask was sewn to her temples, covering part of her face. Ann sighed in relief.

Next, she stretched out her arms. They were made of cloth and stuffed with cotton, the rounded ends stitched down to resemble fingers on a hand. Ann waved the plush limbs up and down, then let them drop at her sides with a sigh. The instance seemed to be conspiring against Ann ever gaining a respectable human form.

"A little help here!" someone called.

Ann bounced in place like her tail had been stepped on. That voice was awfully familiar, and so was the rounded head sticking out from a skein of purple yarn. The blue button eyes fixed on Ann and the stitched mouth in the doll's face widened in a smile.

"Frances!" Michael called. He managed to free one arm from the tangled yarn, which he waved hopefully at Ann.

A litany of colorful words bubbled up Ann's throat. She hesitated for a long time but in the end, there was no choice but to go over.

Michael had woken up in the yarn. Disorientated and confused, he had tangled himself up into a knotted ball. It took the two of them some time and a lot of effort to free him. One thread, however, refused to untangle or break, no matter how much Ann worried the knot.

"Ouch - wait, what're you doing?" Michael complained, trying to twist away.

Ann let the thread go as if burned. She had hypnotized herself into believing that the doll in her hands was an inanimate object, and though she was tempted to grab one of the needles sticking out of a nearby pincushion and give Voodoo a try, it worked well enough in keeping her calm. Now that Michael had broken the illusion, she couldn't get far enough.

The stabbing urge didn't subside.

"You've got a bit of yarn knotted around your throat," Ann said, realizing that Michael was waiting for an answer. She avoided looking at him straight on, unnerved by the unblinking button eyes.

"So do you," Michael told her.

Ann patted at her neck, startled. There was indeed a strand of yarn wrapped around her neck. "How come I don't feel it?" she wondered aloud.

"I don't, either. It's probably part of the stage settings," Michael said.

Ann took a closer look at the troublesome knot. One end was tied securely around Michael. The other lay loose, trailing far from the doll's body and out of sight.

"Where does it lead?" Ann wondered.

"We will come to know in good time, I'm sure. Let's look for the others," Michael said.

Ann was glad for the excuse to flee and so agreed readily. She kept a furtive eye on Michael as she sifted through skeins of yarn and spools of sewing thread large enough for her current body to use as stools. Her exploration took her to the walls of the basket and made her aware of their situation more thoroughly. The world had not shrunken to match their bodies. Whatever adventures lay ahead, Ann could only guess.