Restitched: Tailor's Tales | Mamaw's Misfortune (Patreon)

Mamaw Bobbins has never been much of a talker. That's not to say she doesn't speak - far from it. No, Mamaw Bobbins has never been much of a talker in the sense that she is much more of a do-er. She never asks for favours, she never second-guesses, and she never has regrets. If she wants to do something, she does it. If she wants something, she gets it.

That's the life that she was taught to have as a little girl on her family’s farm, The Rolling Acres. Work with what you have, and be grateful for what you get. She hasn't changed much since then. For starters, she still lives on the same farm.

As would seem fitting for a farm in the south, most days Mawmaw is awoken by the sound of a rooster at the crack of dawn. A soft, orange light beaming through the glass-less window on the slanted roof of her barn, where she often sleeps. It's not the most comfortable place in the world - not at all like her well-worn queen-sized bed in her farmhouse - but it makes the animals feel at-ease. It helps with production. That's something else that she was taught as a kid (not that her parents made her sleep with the livestock at such a young age, mind).

Today was just another day. Rooster, then up-and-at 'em. Only, the animals seem different today. They are acting unusual - unwell? It's a lovely sunny day outside, but they won’t budge. They don't even want to stand.

Hmpf. Odd.

Still, harvest season is fast approaching, so it's time to check on the crops. You might not know this, but Mamaw Bobbins is actually the leading supplier of corn in her town. Okay, sure, it's not a particularly big town - and there are no other suppliers of corn - but she's very proud of her family's farm, and she takes it very seriously. Only, she's been feeling a bit of pressure lately. Every year there's a big festival in the town square to celebrate the harvest. It's a great opportunity to show off her crops, with the corn always being the main event. She grills them, puts them on a stick, slathers them with butter and, as is her family's tradition, adds a dollop of strawberry jam. Mamaw's corn is the talk of the town.

The thing is... harvest doesn't seem like it's going to be too great this year. Far from it, in fact. Not only is her sweetcorn not at all plentiful, but it's also... pink? Not all of it, but maybe like... twenty percent? Lately she's been thinking that there's something funny going on in the soil - which would also explain why the cows aren't feeling well.

It wouldn't surprise her; she’s had her suspicions for a long time. Ever since that new business took over the town's water supply (without any prior notice or knowledge of the townsfolk until it was too late), things have been kind of weird. New water pipes under-ground, for starters. Not that that's particularly strange in itself - a water company placing pipes - but people weren't told. At all. In fact, Mamaw is the only person in the town that does know. She came to discover them after pathways slowly started to form around her farm. Not asphalt or cobblestone pathways, but dirt tracks. The grass had died and blown away, leaving what looked like a pathway. The weirdest part? It was a perfect circle around her largest corn field, with one line going straight to the headquarters of that new business.

Most people probably wouldn't have thought anything by it, but not Mamaw. She wanted to know what was causing this, so she got out her shovel and she started digging. That's how she came to know of the pipes - because that's where they were. A perfect circle of water pipes around her farm, and nowhere else in the town.

Still, what can she do? She picks two pieces of corn that have ripened prematurely, and brings them inside for dinner. They're sour, but the combination of butter and jam helps to hide the taste. Actually, sour is the wrong word. More like... fizzy? Maybe she could still bring these to market - a world's first - fizzy corn! It could be huge! Could be. Probably not. It doesn't taste very nice. Oh well.

She brings the livestock back into the barn, and lays down on the hay. The barn slowly gets darker, and Mamaw's eyelids slowly get heavier...

Then there's the familiar sound waking her up. Wait... not familiar. That's not a rooster. It's kind of a... low hum? A very loud low hum. So loud that it's making Mamaw's ears shake. Not just her ears, actually, but the pile of hay, too. No - not just the pile of hay, but the whole barn! She throws out her hand, trying desperately to find her glasses. It's still the middle of the night, so there's nothing but the dull glow from a half-moon barely providing enough light to see, but she just about manages. The livestock are frightened, but they're all still here. She checks each one, grabs her flashlight, runs to the door, unbolts it, heaves the latch, swings it open, runs outside, and-

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What?

How can-?

Her farm?

Her corn farm?

Her family's corn farm?

It's...

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...gone?

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That circle. That perfect circle...

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...A crater?

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She looks up.

A semi-sphere of land being carried away by two helicopters.

Towards the city.

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They can't have...

They've taken her farm?

Why would they ..?

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They're in for it now.