Mittens by Anne Cargile

For Donna McGurk

It was certainly a worthwhile endeavor but, truly, all those mittens!

Mica stepped through the entryway into the living room and could only gawk. The number of mittens hanging, lying and piled throughout the room was nothing short of intimidating. Every color, every pattern, from polka dot to striped to fingered, the room was near to bursting with the things.

She poked a finger at a pile spilling off an end table. The mittens looked to be made of rather nice angora wool, she noted, not a cheap acrylic yarn. She picked one up and studied the stitching. Not bad, Mica thought, pleased that her spell, even if it had been screwed up, had produced such a fine quality product. She wondered, in a vaguely shell-shocked kind of way, if the mittens were crocheted or knitted.

She wasn’t sure what had gone wrong with the spell she’d given Len, but it was obvious something had.

Shaking her head, she sighed. Len was an adorable sort, but really too anxious a personality to be a good magic user. Mica had done her best to simplify the creation spell for him; she thought she’d made it easier than Magic for Dummies, but this. This was something entirely new to her experience.

She threw the mitten down on the already teetering pile and took a deep breath. “Len?” she called out.

Mica wandered the first floor and called for her friend a few more times. There was no response, just more mittens. Thousands littered the hallway, the half bath, the kitchen. They were even piled up the stairwell.

The house offered only silence in response to her calls.

She stood in the living room, hands on her hips and decided that first things first, she needed to reduce the amount of assembled woolen garments clogging things up. With those gone, maybe Mica could find a clue as to what happened to Len. Mica guessed, based on the plethora of woolen hand wear, that the living room was where he had attempted the spell.

Chanting, “Three little kittens lost their mittens, and they began to cry,” Mica pointed at a pile and said, “Meow” and the pile of mittens vanished. “Meow, meow.” With each meow, another pile cleared away. Soon enough she had the room cleared and flopped down on the couch to take a break. It was always exhausting using reincorporation spells, but the mittens had to go back in to the universe somehow.

That’s when she heard muffled sounds coming from above her. It sounded like thumping, but Mica couldn’t make it out clearly. Hefting herself off the couch, she navigated the drifts of mittens on the stairs and made her way carefully up to the second floor.

The noises seemed to be coming from one of the back bedrooms, so Mica went to investigate. Sure enough, the noises came from the closet in what she knew was Len’s bedroom. She opened the door and had to quickly jump back as a pile of knitted angora tumbled out. Sitting in the middle of the closet was a big fat rabbit, an Angora rabbit to be exact.

Fluffy, cute and impossibly large it stared at Mica with a rather sad, floppy look and then hopped out of the closet. Mica stared at it as the rabbit stopped to scratch itself. As she continued to watch, the rabbit started heaving in what looked like a fit. Its fur fluffed out even bigger as it obviously struggled. A few seconds later, a mitten came popping out of its mouth and flew across the room. The rabbit settled back down and turned its soulful gaze back to Mica, as if pleading.

Mica snapped her mouth shut with a pronounced click when she realized it had been hanging open and looked more closely at the rabbit.

“Len? Is that you?” she asked.

The rabbit twitched its ears, hopped over to her and rested its little head on her shoe.

“Oh my god, Len. What did you do?” Mica said as she knelt down to stroke his back. “Seriously, I have no idea how to fix this!”

She looked around and decided this was a magic far beyond her skill to evaluate and resolve. She only knew one person who could possibly return Len to his normal state. The decision made, Mica reached down and picked him up.

“Stop squirming. I have to take you to Gaia. She’s the only one who can fix you,” Mica said, chastising the rabbit. “Good grief you’re heavy. You had better not puke a mitten on me, buster.”

Mica made her way carefully back down the stairs, Len now calmly lying across her shoulder. His fur kept tickling her nose and getting in her face, but she navigated the piles of mittens successfully and gave a sigh of relief when she got back to the front door. She felt Len start heaving again and quickly put him down, where he proceeded to spit out another mitten.

“Well if nothing else, if Gaia can’t fix you we can start a nice little business selling mittens. Do you happen to know if you can make matching ones?” Mica asked.

It was hard to tell, but Mica thought Len’s little rabbit face looked a bit mad.

“OK, OK. Just kidding. I’m sure Gaia will fix you up in a jiffy.” Mica picked Len up again and gave him a hug as she walked out the front door. “You’re such a silly dear, but at least you’re soft.”

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2 Comments

Filed under Anne Cargile

2 responses to “Mittens by Anne Cargile

  1. This is a wonderful story. Can’t wait to read more.

    Like

  2. Thank you, thank you! I feel somehow immortalized.

    Like

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