Quilt works

QUILT WORKS

Mandy Conrad stood in front of her quilt smiling widely as one of the judge's hand her a blue ribbon. Her eyes were bright with delight as she hugged the closest judge.
"Your quilts are quite amazing." Wanda said as she pats the back of her friend. "Every year you walk off with the blue ribbon. No body can touch you" Wanda ran her hand over the quilt feeling the textures. "I would love to know your techniques. These faces are so realistic. Someday you'll have to show me how you do that."
"Sorry, I can't devolve my secrets." Mandy said as she turned to pin the blue ribbon on her latest creation.
"How much are you getting' for this one?" Wanda asked as she touched the ribbon.
"Enough to keep me in fabric for another year." She smiled and walked away. Wanda ran behind her.
"Look sorry if I'm being nosy but I really wish I were half as talented as you are."
"Give it time." Mandy put her arm around her friend and headed to the cafeteria.
"Mandy Conrad does it again. Her quilt tops the New York Quilt Show for the fifth year. She uses a balance of dark and light giving reality a life all it's own. The faces of anguish she portrays are so real they speak to you. Greta Alstate, head of the quilter's association said yesterday as they handed her the best in show ribbon."
Mandy smiled as she added the newspaper clipping to the rest of her scrapbook. She gazed up at her latest creation. In one corner, a child's face stared in terror; another corner showed a woman's face beaten and bloody, in the third corner was a man's head partly smashed in, very graphic and terror ridden. She brushed her hand against the fourth corner. It's empty spot cried out to the artist.
"You have given me my fame and fortune." She smiled greedily as she ran her across the faces.
"Now you are trapped in art forever." Mandy turned on the police scanner and settled down.
"Now for some inspiration." She held her camera on her lap.
"Attention all cars," the scanner screamed out, "officer down on Fifth and
White streets. Request back-up."
Mandy grabbed her coat and headed for the door. "Time to go to work." She said as she patted her pockets.
At the corner of Fifth and White streets, she snuck up the side of the building. The flashing lights lit up the streets. She followed the cars up to the scene. An officer was lying there in his own blood with half his face missing.
Mandy took out her camera and started to snap pictures of the dead man. A policeman grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the way.
"Get her out of here." Someone shouted as she was pulled away.
"Got to get more." She muttered as they pushed her back behind the cars. She carefully crept up behind the ambulance and waited.
As the body was loaded into the back, Mandy popped out and took a couple more pictures.
"Ghoul. She always shows up at these things." One of the attendants said an officer grabbed her and pushed her back again.
She crept up on the place where the guy died and dipped a paintbrush into the blood left on the ground. She quickly put it into a baggie as she heard the police yell at her again.
Mandy headed home before she was arrested.
"That would wreck everything." She said as she crept back home the usual ways, using the alleys.
As she developed the pictures of the poor guy she looked for the prefect one.
"The blank look, brains, and guts. It's the all-American dream. Everyone stops and stares at accidents and now they can own their own disasters." She laughed as she enlarged the picture she chose for her quilt. She used her blood-dipped brush on the photo covering every inch of the picture. Carefully she pressed the blood-soaked picture into the empty corner of her quilt. She thought she heard a slight scream as the blood and photo sealed itself into the fabric.
Slowly the battered face of the policeman pushed forward into view.
"Enjoy your fame in death." She said to her new acquisition. "You will be living this moment for eternity. Thanks to me." She smiled as she turned off the lights.
Wanda's knock at the door came too early for Mandy. She answered the door all tussled and groggy.
"Hey friend, I just got word of a new art show at the Metro. Grand prize is fifty thousand dollars and they are judging all forms of art. I thought of you." Wanda pushed past Mandy and into her apartment.
She looked around at Mandy's modest place.
"Did you finish a new one yet?" she said as she tried to peek around every corner. Mandy grabbed her friend's shoulders and pushed her towards the door.
"I'll call you when I wake up." She said as she pushed her out the door slamming it firmly behind her.
"Not done, not done," Mandy's fists hit against her head. "I've got to get my center piece."
She slammed her hand on her table and another knock came at her door.
"I couldn't wait any longer." Wanda smiled as she opened the door.
"Wanda, yeah. I was going to call you to say sorry but I guess it's better in person." Mandy grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her into the room.
"Sit, sit. Let me get you a drink." She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of glasses. She poured soda into each one and added sleeping pills to Wanda's.
"I want to share all my techniques with you." She said as she brought the glasses into the living room.
"I'm all ears. This is fantastic. I could never be as good as you are." Wanda stammered as she sipped the drink.
"Well, I have a police scanner that I listen to so I can get inspired." She said as she watched the young woman yawn.
"Then I go to the scene and take a lot of pictures."
"The police let you do thaaa" Wanda's head dropped down and she fell sideways onto the couch.
Mandy took a knife and cut the center of Wanda's hand. She filled her paintbrush with the blood and put it in a baggie. Pulling her onto the floor, Mandy wrapped the unconscious woman in the old rug. She pulled the rug to the open window and pushed it out into the back yard. It landed with a crunch.
"Later, Wanda." She said as she watched for signs of movement. As the sun went down, Mandy went into her yard to set up her last quilt square.
Unwrapping the body, she checked for a pulse.
"She's still alive." She muttered. "Perfect"
She pulled the woman out of the rug and propped her against clothesline pole. The wrapped the rope from the line around the woman's body and began to soak her clothes with gasoline.
"Good bye Wanda." She said as she threw a match at the girl. The heat of the flames woke Wanda for a moment. She tried to scream as the flames engulfed her. Mandy's camera flashed as she took picture after picture of the torched woman. She watched as the body slumped and smoldered against the pole. She dug a ditch in front of the body and pushed the remains into it with the shovel. As she threw the dirt on the ashes and bone, Mandy smiled.
"Thanks a million or more like fifty thousand, Wanda." She said as she packed the dirt down. She rushed into her darkroom with her camera and quickly developed the pictures.
"This is going to be hard. Each one is a masterpiece." She cried as she hung them above her. "This one says it all." She said as she grabbed the photo and started to enlarge it.
Carefully she brushed the photo with blood covering the flames and Wanda's screaming face. She placed the photo in the center and turned to admire her work.
"Look at me. What a mess." She said as she past her bedroom mirror. She hopped into the shower singing to herself.
As the flames crept through the fabric of the quilt center, little sparks touched the couch and chairs that were close by. As the picture grew clearer, the flames became hotter.
"Oh my god." Mandy cried when she smelled the smoke. She quickly jumped from the shower. She tried to beat the flames with her towel.
"Mandy" the quilt spoke and through the smoke the anguished faces surrounded their tormentor. Wanda's charred arms wrapped themselves around her. The faces laughed as
Mandy was pulled across the room.
"The Metro art show was a success. The big winner was a quilt done by Mandy Conrad. It was her last creation, which survived a horrible fire, which destroyed her home and took her life. The quilt, a nude woman caught in a fire, is thought to be a self-portrait. Many people were sad at the loss of this realistic artist." The New York Times