The Golden Lady and the Pirate King
A short story.
This story is a birthday present for my son, based on his idea of traveling to a “stuffed animal world.” I took some inspiration from the mysterious, powerful ladies that George Herbert infused his stories with, but I also wanted some crazy shenanigans. I hope you (and your kids) enjoy it.
For the past few nights, Malachi had been too frightened to turn off the light. He kept hearing noises. Something muffled coming from his closet. A tapping underneath his dresser. Every once and a while, he thought he saw a shape dart in front of the light shining through his cracked-open door.
When he slept, things grew worse. He had nightmares of small creatures crawling over him and whispering in his ear. He couldn’t understand them. He didn’t know what they were. In his dreams, they were fuzzy shapes made of shadow. One recurring shape reminded him of his new triceratop stuffed animal, Trippy.
He would wake with a shout and run to his parent’s bedroom, and they would mumble something and tell him to go back to bed. The third night, he noticed he was carrying Trippy, squeezing him tight.
Before he had gone to sleep, Malachi had left Trippy at the foot of his bed, facing his closet to guard against intruders. He had no idea how the animal got in his arms. This time, he threw the animal into his room and shut the door. In the morning, his parents found Malachi curled up on the couch under a blanket.
His father promised to sit beside the bed. That was the only way Malachi would sleep in his room again. He also would have been fine with their dog sleeping in the room, but Ace liked eating stuffed animals way too much. All of Malachi’s stuffed animals had been crammed into a bin inside his closet, but the dog would find a way. He always did.
Malachi watched his father reading a book by the light of the hallway. A few times, his eyelids closed and he jerked awake to see his father still there, silent and still. His eyes grew heavier, and he took a deep breath.
When next he woke, it was dark, his father was gone, and moonlight peaked in through the window.
And something tickled both of his ears.
Something brushed his cheek.
He sat up and tried to fling away his sheet, but it was already bunched up at his feet.
“Whoa whoa! Calm down, kid.” The voice sounded small but deep. “Don’t freak out.”
Malachi turned his head and found Trippy standing on his pillow.
“He’s going to freak out,” said another voice, and it sounded like a boy. On the other side of his pillow sat a teddy bear. The color could not be discerned in the dark, but Malachi knew it was Happy, the bear he had received on his birthday two years ago.
And based on Malachi’s shortness of breath, pounding heart, and the scream building up in his throat, it would seem Happy was right. He was about to freak out.
“We’re not gonna hurt you, kid,” Trippy said. “We need your help.”
Malachi looked back at the triceratops. Something tickled his ear again. No, something was in his ear. He lifted his hand toward it.
“Don’t take that out!” Trippy hopped off the pillow. “That’s the only way you can hear and understand us. Took us most of the night to get that in. After we escaped your prison of a closet, of course.”
The closet door was indeed open, its innards hidden in deep darkness. Malachi ignored Trippy’s protests and touched whatever was in his ear. It felt like a frazzled cotton ball.
“Why don’t you turn on the light,” Happy said. “And then we can talk face to face.”
Malachi thought that was a good idea, mostly because the light switch was near the door and he could escape if he needed to. But his fear had diminished. His throat was no longer tight. He got up and flipped the light on, squinting until his eyes adjusted, and then turned to take in the scene.
Trippy and Happy sat on his bed, looking at him. Their eyes still looked like plastic, but they gleamed with life. He had played games and pretended that his stuffed animals talked back to him. Sometimes, he wished they came to life and he would have friends to play with him anytime he wanted.
This wasn’t what he had in mind. They seemed more like grownups.
“I think I’m dreaming,” Malachi said. And it wasn’t even a fun dream.
“I wish you were,” Trippy said. “But this is serious.”
“What’s in my ears?”
“It’s the True Stuffing,” Happy said with a reverence usually reserved for prayer.
“The what?”
“True Stuffing,” Trippy said. “Picked from the Shining Fields and spun by the Golden Lady in the Other World.”
Malachi blinked. He had no idea what any of those words together meant.
“I can see you’re confused,” Trippy said and walked to the edge of the bed. “It’s a good thing we stuffed your ears so your brains don’t leak out.”
Happy sighed and rolled his eyes. “We put it in your ears so you could hear and understand us. The same True Stuffing fills our own fabric and gives us life.”
Malachi touched the fluff in his ears again. “I have to be dreaming.”
“The Other World is in danger,” Happy said. “We need you to come with us.”
Malachi decided to play along. He didn’t want to wake up his parents, and it would be rude to turn out the lights again and try to go to sleep. And boring. If he really was dreaming, he might as well make it the best dream he possibly could, and that meant going on an adventure when you were invited.
“Alright,” he said. “How do I get to the Other World?”
“Through the closet,” Happy said.
Malachi pulled the door open and found all of his stuffed animals dumped on the floor in the corner, overflowing. His mom would kill him. “What did you do?”
“We had to make a portal big enough for you,” Trippy said. “Crawl through. And don’t worry, they all volunteered for this.”
Malachi looked closer and saw that a few of the plushies were shifting as if they had a life of their own. He got on his knees and pushed his hand through the pile, leaning with all of his weight because he expected to be supported by the floor.
Instead, he fell about ten feet onto a tuft of grass, rolling as he landed. His knee hit something hard, so he yelled and pulled his leg closer. Sunlight danced on his hand. It was daytime. And hot. The temperature must have risen at least twenty degrees and he could already feel the sweat threatening to squeeze out of his skin.
Happy and Trippy plopped down next to him. Above, the air shimmered and Malachi could see a faded image of his room. His knee hurt, but he had mostly forgotten about it.
“Will that stay open?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Trippy said. “Sure. As long as no one moves the animals. Or the animals don’t get too impatient or forgetful. Or the Pirate King doesn’t come and close it up.”
“Pirate king?!”
“We said our world was in danger,” Trippy said. “Did you expect to fight a puppy?”
“No,” Malachi said. “But I’ve never fought anyone.”
“Piece of cake,” Trippy said. “You’ll get a sword and stick the pointy end into the Pirate King. Several times.”
Malachi looked back up at the portal that led to his room. Something patted his hand.
“Don’t worry,” Happy said. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”
“Better start stepping,” Trippy said, and his voice was filled with fear.
Before them stood at least a dozen stuffed animals, but not just any stuffed animals. These were the kinds you won at carnival games or arcades. They were all of absurd size, all larger than Malachi, some twice as big, and they did not look kind. Many had patches or missing eyes. Most carried wooden clubs.
In the center stood a mangy, black bear wearing an eye patch. It wasn’t as big as the others, but it was big enough, and it leaned on its one intact leg. The other leg ended with what looked like a wooden peg. In one hand, the bear held something that gleamed in the sun. Malachi thought it looked like one of his mom’s kitchen knives.
This whole thing suddenly became very real.
“Run,” Trippy said.
Malachi stood there, gaping at the small army before him.
“Run now, kid, or you’re dead. We’re all dead. You can’t do much yet, but you can definitely outrun them.”
The Pirate King laughed. “Yes, run. Prove yourself a coward. Prove to everyone that their great hope is a fraud.”
“Do not listen to him,” Happy said. “Do not be drawn into battle before your time.”
“We can end this right now,” the Pirate King said, stepping forward and pointing the knife straight at Malachi.
Malachi didn’t need any more encouragement. He picked up both Trippy and Happy and ran. Behind him, the Pirate King laughed and laughed.
Malachi didn’t know how far he had run or for how long, but he stopped to catch his breath and dropped the two stuffed animals. The sun had moved further west, getting closer to the ground.
“How did he know where’d we come out?” Trippy said. “He shouldn’t have known that.”
Happy stood up and brushed some grass off of his knees. “We did create a magic portal in the sky. If he was nearby, it could be seen.”
“Well why’d we do that?” Trippy said.
“It is not an exact science.”
Trippy shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like any of this,” Malachi said. “I just want to go home.” He thought beating a stuffed animal would be easy. He forgot how big they sometimes were. And he certainly didn’t expect one to be carrying a real knife.
“Only way back home is through the portal, kid,” Trippy said. “If the Pirate King doesn’t use it first.”
Malachi spun around. “He can do that?”
“If he can reach it,” Trippy said. “Whatever we do, we need to act fast.”
Malachi threw his arms up into the air. “I still have no idea what’s going on! If you told me more before we left, I could have grabbed a weapon. Anything.”
Happy narrowed his eyes. “Your parents leave weapons lying around the house?” He sounded very disappointed.
“No,” Malachi said, “But there are knives in the kitchen.”
“And your mother lets you play with them?!” Happy put a paw to his mouth in shock.
“No, no,” Malachi said. “But this is different.”
Happy didn’t seem convinced.
“I like where your thoughts are going, kid,” Trippy said. “But it’s too late. No use crying over it now.”
“So where do we get weapons?” Malachi asked.
“Not sure,” Trippy said. “Pirate King took over all the forges and enslaved the weaponsmiths.”
“There is only one place we can go,” Happy said. “To see the Golden Lady.”
Malachi let out a sigh. “Then why didn’t you say so before?”
“Because she doesn’t really like us, kid,” Trippy said. “And she definitely won’t like you.”
The Golden Lady lived in a tall tower of shimmering stone, surrounded by fields of golden trees. The trees did not grow leaves. Instead, they grew clouds. Thick puffs of white hung from branches and it looked like the entire area was covered in a floating blanket of the purest snow.
Birds were everywhere. Real birds, but more colorful than Malachi had ever seen, with feathers that carried every color of the rainbow. As he watched, a bird flew down, snatched a small patch of the white stuff, and carried it to the tallest window of the tower. Several birds were involved in this, forming a constant train.
Malachi stopped at a solid wooden door at the foot of the tower. “What do we do now?”
“Knock on it, of course,” Trippy said.
“Right.” Malachi rapped on the door but it made only a soft thud. The door was not only solid, but thick. He lifted his hand to try again.
“Who dares disturb me at my work?” The voice sprinkled down like soft rain and the melody and rhythm was so pleasant Malachi almost started to tap his feet.
“Answer her, kid,” Trippy whispered.
“Oh, uh,” Malachi looked up and around as if he would be able to see her face in the sky. “Malachi.”
“You come to pluck my golden hair and entrap it in a gemstone?”
“No,” Malachi said. “No, ma’am. My Lady.”
“You come to steal the fruit of my labor and profane it with dark arts?”
Malachi wasn’t sure what she meant, and so the thought had never occurred to him. He answered honestly. “No, my Lady.”
“Then why has such a mortal come if he does not want these things?”
Malachi turned to Happy and Trippy with a question on his face. He had no idea why he was here. They hadn’t really talked about it.
“I do not ask the pilgrims who accompany you, mortal.” She said pilgrims as if the word tasted wrong.
“I need a way to defeat the Pirate King,” Malachi said.
“And why is that?”
Malachi thought it would be obvious. “Isn’t he harming people?”
“He is not the first and he will not be the last.”
“But won’t he eventually attack this place?”
There was a rumble like the crashing of a waterfall, and the Lady’s voice took on the hardness of melting ice. ”The usurper is welcome to try.”
Malachi took a step back and glanced up at the tower and the sky, neither of which had changed. Not visibly. He realized the Pirate King would be a fool to step foot in the Golden Lady’s grove. What did that make Malachi?
The Lady continued. “There are enough threats in your own world to last many lifetimes. Why do you come to my world to face trouble not your own?”
“Because…” Malachi glanced at Happy and Trippy again. “Because my friends asked me to.”
There was silence so deep that even the busy birds had stopped flapping their wings. The whole world held its breath.
The door clicked and opened.
“You may enter.”
Malachi took a step and then waved for the others to follow.
“We can’t cross the threshold, kid,” Trippy said. “You heard her.”
“The Golden Lady called us pilgrims, but a better word would be exiles,” Happy said, frowning. “She does not like it when we choose to enter your world.”
Malachi swallowed. “I’m going up alone?”
“Afraid so,” Trippy said.
No turning back now. After that entire conversation, it would be rude not to go in. Malachi took a deep breath and stepped into the tower.
Everything inside was overlaid with silver, gold, and bronze, in contrast with the grey stone of the exterior. And it shined. Malachi squinted his eyes as if avoiding the light of the sun. It smelled like springtime, right after the day had burned up all the water from the first good rain of the season. Stairs wound around the inside walls, and every step he took echoed some musical note. At the top was an open door and sitting inside the room was the Golden Lady.
The room itself was normal wood with normal wooden furniture. A bed, a washbasin, a chair, a spindle, and some kind of press with a lever. A large basket sat under the open window where bird were dropping their deliveries of small white fluffs.
The woman who sat at the spindle had long-flowing golden hair, but she wore a plain dress as she worked. As Malachi watched, she took a bundle of spun thread, balled it up, put in in the press, and pulled down the lever. Her lips moved and Malachi thought he heard the hint of a song. She pulled out a bundle of fluff, stood up, and carried it over to some unseen corner of the room. When she sat back down at her spindle, she turned to look at him.
“Do not lurk in my doorway, mortal,” she said, and her eyes were the bluest blue he had ever seen, a blue that had never faded and never would fade. They held wisdom and kindness. And that wisdom and kindness had been forged into power and strength that had been used for ages and ages. Those eyes were old. Very old. Yet still very young.
Malachi stepped in and averted his eyes to the ground. “Are you an angel?”
“No,” the Lady said, and there was the hint of amusement, the edge of an almost-laugh. “But I am not surprised that you think me so. There are none such as I in your world, though there used to be. Now, what would you have me do?”
Malachi had almost forgotten why he had come. He glanced out the window. “You make the True Stuffing here?”
“I make life here,” The Lady said. “I am the mother of all the living in this world.”
“Even the Pirate King?”
“Yes, though his true name is Tolliver, and he was not always so.”
“How do I defeat him?”
“Such questions are for my husband. I will give what aid I can, but counsel in war and violence is not the type of aid I can give you.”
Malachi lifted his gaze for the first time since he had entered. “You have a husband?”
“Of course I do,” The Lady said, placing a hand on her breast. “He is the true king of this world.”
“Well, where is he?”
“He is off working and seeing to his domain, as he should be. When the sun goes down, I shall go to him.”
Malachi balled his hands up and rubbed his eyes, feeling very confused. “But…shouldn’t he do something about the Pirate King?”
“And I’m sure he will, in his own good time.” The Lady turned back to her spindle. “Now, are you going to ask something of me?”
“Can’t you ask the king…the true king…to take care of it? Seems like he would want to do that.”
“I do not nag my husband over such things. He is very busy, and your problems are not the only problems he must tend to.” She leaned over to pick up some of the fluff from the basket.
Malachi thought it over. “Can you make me a weapon?”
“I create life, not tools of death. Look to the forges and weaponsmiths.”
“But the Pirate King controls all of those!”
“Indeed?” The Lady pushed a pedal and began feeding some of the fluff into her machine. She seemed unconcerned. Almost bored.
Malachi looked around the room, thinking this whole trip was a waste of time. He needed to speak to the Lady’s husband. But why did Happy and Trippy want him to come here? His eyes rested on a shelf with piles of cloth and sewing materials.
“What type of stuffed animals can you create?” he asked.
“Anything an imagination can conceive,” The Lady said.
“Do they have the same abilities as they do in real life?”
“I do not understand. Whatever I make becomes real life.”
Malachi tried to think of another way to say it. “Do they have the same strength and abilities as what they are copying?”
“Ah, you mean the same as their counterparts in your world, of the creatures formed out of the dust and molded with flesh and bone.” The Lady furrowed her brow in thought. “No. Or else how could the bear or triceratops talk? They are more, but also less.”
Malachi let loose a small growl in frustration. It all sounded too unpredictable. But then he remembered something else about many of his stuffed animals. “What about clothes? If you make them certain types of clothes, does that give them different abilities?
The Lady stopped pushing the pedal and looked at him again. “Clothes are very important. They can communicate a message or bestow an office. They can exalt or humble. There is power in a uniform. You are right to discern this truth.”
Malachi wasn’t sure he had discerned anything, but he felt like he was getting somewhere.
“And how big can you make your animals?” he asked.
The Pirate King had almost finished the tower that would help him and his minions reach the portal in the sky. A new world to conquer. Escape from the tyranny of the Lord and the Golden Lady. The area was filled with the sound of hammers and other tools.
The ground shook. He could feel it through his feet.
It shook again and again, getting stronger each time.
His minions had noticed it, too, and stopped working to look around.
“Get back to work,” the Pirate King yelled, and they all snapped to obey. He walked to a different part of the hill and scanned the horizon. His gaze settled on a small, bobbing head of brown hair. It was the boy! He was coming back. The Pirate King smiled and touched the knife attached to his belt. He had never shed real blood before.
His smile faltered as he watched. The boy approached much too quickly. There was no way he could run that fast. Or be that tall. Why was his head so high off the ground?
The boy rode something. Something large and something fast.
Something with large teeth and a giant head. And very, very small arms.
The Pirate King was no longer smiling.
Malachi held on tight to the neck of the Tyrannosaurus Rex, his fingers gripping the fabric. It wasn’t the size of a real dinosaur, but it was big enough. Almost as tall as the tower being built toward the portal. Happy and Trippy held on further below. Trippy had balked at the existence of a huge, new predator and certainly didn’t like riding on one, but he did it with grim determination.
A blur of red and blue shot past Malachi and then came back to float next to him. A red cape billowed out behind it.
It was a bear dressed as Superman.
Which meant it had all the powers of Superman.
The Golden Lady had said it was Malachi’s imagination that had made it possible, his idea that had provided the spark. She, nor anyone else in her world, would have thought of such a thing. Malachi supposed that’s why Happy and Trippy had dragged him here.
“Can you stop them?” Malachi asked.
The bear tilted his head to the side. “Would that be fighting for truth, justice, and the American way?”
Malachi almost laughed at how serious the bear sounded, but he kept his face in check. “They want to hurt people, so…yes?”
Superman shot off and started picking up the Pirate King’s minions and carrying them down from the tower. They had all started to scatter by the time Malachi arrived on the T-rex, and now they fled in panic. Superman held a huge hippopotamus and a giant monkey by the scruffs of their necks, and after a few moments, they were the only minions of the Pirate King remaining in the area.
Malachi leaned down from his perch. “Where is he?”
“He went to the other world,” the Hippo said, staring at the ground, refusing to meet Malachi’s eyes.
“Told me to toss him up and through,” the monkey said. “So I did.”
Malachi looked up at the portal. He didn’t know how much time had passed or if everyone would be asleep, but his family certainly wouldn’t be ready for a stuffed bear armed with a knife. And what if the Pirate King clsoed the portal? How would Malachi get back?
“Superman, can you fly me up and through that fuzzy window in the sky?”
The bear dressed as Superman nodded, and turned to Happy and Trippy. “Will you ensure these criminals are brought to justice?” He dropped the two big animals and they collapsed to the ground.
Trippy gave Happy a side-eyed glance. “Uh…sure.” But he didn’t look so sure.
“Rex here should help you.” Malachi patted the neck of his steed and then stood up and held out his arms. Superman picked him up and flew them both threw the portal.
They both rolled into Malachi’s room at high speed. Malachi didn’t stop until his hip hit his dresser and his feet thudded into the wall. A few LEGO bricks fell to the floor.
“Ow,” he said.
“My powers,” Superman said. “They’re gone. I can no longer fly.”
Great, thought Malachi. So this would be harder than he thought. “You’ll still help me, though?”
Superman straightened himself up to full height (about one and a half feet) and placed his paws on his hips. “I still fight for truth, justice, and the American way. My powers do not change that.” Then he looked a little unsure. “Though I do have the urge to put on some glasses and change clothes.”
That bear still had a lot to learn.
Malachi hoped he wouldn’t need the help. All he had to do was wake up his father, who could easily defeat the Pirate King. His father would know what to do. Malachi opened the door to his room and filled his lungs to cry out as loud as possible.
Cold metal pressed against his throat.
“Don’t even think about it,” the Pirate King said.
Malachi closed his mouth and swallowed. Fear traveled down his spine all the way to his feet.
“I need weapons,” the Pirate King said. “This blade will cut you true, but I need guns.”
Malachi almost said that there were no guns in the house, at least none that he knew of, but Superman jumped out into the hallway.
“I’d like to interview you for the Daily Planet,” Superman said, and he held a small notepad in his paw, one of many that were strewn about Malachi’s room.
This confused Malachi so much that he forgot what he was going to say. Fortunately, the Pirate King also seemed confused. The bear had tensed up and the blade had lifted a bit from Malachi’s neck. Superman, or Clark Kent, was having some problems with his dual identities.
But it gave Malachi time to think.
“They’re stored in the basement,” he said.
“Show me,” the Pirate King said.
“What are your plans for these weapons?” asked Superman/Kent. “And why do you call yourself the Pirate King?”
Both Malachi and the Pirate King ignored the questions, though Malachi thought that maybe he should have had the Golden Lady create a Spider-man or a Batman bear instead.
Malachi led the Pirate King downstairs, feeling the point of the knife digging into his back. They went through the large room, past a bathroom, and to a door at the end of the hallway. It was the unfinished part of the basement that his parents used for storage. Christmas decorations, old toys, extra toilet paper, that kind of stuff.
But it was also where Ace, their dog, slept during the night.
As soon as Malachi opened the door, he jumped out of the way, and Ace barreled out with all the energy of a 90 lb. ball of muscle and fur that still thinks it’s a puppy. The Pirate King went flying, and Ace chased him. His jaws came down on the arm that held the knife and the knife fell to the floor. The Pirate King yelled and beat against Ace’s head with his other paw.
But not for long.
Ace soon had him by the neck, shaking him back and forth in a blur.
Ace had a lot of experience destroying stuffed animals.
So ended the reign of Tolliver, the Pirate King of the Other World.
Malachi had many other adventures in the Other World. He even met the King and dined at his table several times. The Golden Lady always delighted in making the strange, unfamiliar characters Malachi told her about.
Sometimes, other mortals found their way into the Other World, and almost all of them were there for nefarious purposes. Malachi, riding his T-Rex and with the help of his Spider-man and Batman bears, always made quick work of them.
At least until the Dark Magician appeared. But that is a story for another time.