Mom’s Magic Carpet

By Tim Law

“Mom’s Magic Carpet” was originally published in the Journeys IV anthology

I close my eyes and I feel her near. I know that this must be a dream, but I wish with all my heart that it wasn’t.

“Hi, Mom,” I whisper to the night.

The sound of familiar, but far off laughter makes my heart skip a beat.

It has been too long, every birthday wish since December 2009 has been leading to this moment. The window opens and my mom is there.

“What are you doing, Mom?” I ask in disbelief. “How are you here?”

“I’m floating, silly,” Mom replies. “And I’ve come to see you.”

I can see my mom’s curly, black and grey hair, it seems alive in the night’s breeze. She hovers in the open window, floating on what looks like a handwoven rug.

“I’m not dressed, mom,” I moan.

A summer night is stifling, even the breeze is no relief from the heat.

“Yes, you are,” says mom.

My wife murmurs as she rolls over. The fan hopelessly blows, giving some relief but not a lot. I need to get the window shut, but mom is there, waiting.

“Come, I want to show you something…” mom says as she pats a spot on the floating carpet she rides, showing me it is large enough for two.

Carefully, I slide out from under the bedsheet and discover I am dressed in a pair of shorts I didn’t know I owned.

“They look nice on you,” mom says, smiling.

I step up onto the windowsill and then climb aboard. The feeling of hovering in the air is a strange one, but fun. The window gently closes behind me and mom gives me a kiss on the cheek. I’ve missed those kisses. I kiss her back and she laughs again.

“Hold on tight,” she says, and then she clicks her tongue.

The carpet backs up for a brief moment before it launches itself over my house. I tumble backward, but mom catches me, she is surprisingly strong.

I crawl my way forward and sit with my hands gripping the carpet’s edge, just like I can see mom doing. Looking at her, beyond her smiling lips and the twinkle in her eyes, I notice changes. She is younger than I remember, and there is a tinge to her skin, a greenish glow that suits her. I look at her properly then and see she is covered in shimmering scales, and her body ends in not legs and feet, but a fishy tail.

“Mom…?” I say with a questioning tone to my voice. “What happened to you?”

“The next life is beautiful,” my mom replies. “I just want to share a glimpse of it with you…”

My mom is a mermaid, what could be stranger, and more special than that? I expect us to fly toward the sea, to visit our favorite beach, but we don’t. Instead the carpet flies us toward the fat, full, summer moon. We travel past stars that burn bright in a inky blanket, so far, and yet they seem so close I could gather them up in my hands. I do, I reach out and capture a handful. I place one in my mom’s hair and she rewards me with another beaming smile.

“Keep the rest for your wife,” mom suggests. “Tell her I love her like the daughter I never had.”

“I will,” I say. “I promise.”

When I look again down at my hands I see that the stars have transformed into golden rings studded with precious diamonds. I hold a king’s ransom in my hands. My darling wife will never believe it.

“Look,” whispers my mom. “We’ve arrived.”

I look up, just in time to discover the Sea of Tranquility is exactly that. The moon is alive with sea-people swimming and splashing, the sand is grey like my mother’s hair, soft too, inviting. The carpet rests gently upon the grains and mom and I step off. I see those loved ones, friends and family who have gone before. They are playing amongst the waves as if this ocean was a backyard pool. There is no fear, no inhibition, only fun. I jump in and join them, feeling the coolness of the water. I play for what seems like hours, loving every moment I get to share with these people whom I love and miss so much.

“This must be a dream,” I tell them, I tell myself.

“We love how you have embraced your imagination,” they all reply. “We love your beautiful family, and we love all of these stories you write and share.”

“I am lucky,” I agree. “I have been truly blessed.”

There are tears in my eyes when it is time to say goodbye. I wave to my Grandma Peg, Nanny Bridgette, Opa and Oma, it is unfair that they have left. I am happy though, knowing just how much fun life on the moon has turned out to be.

“The sun is rising soon,” my mom hints, and I nod.

We both climb aboard the carpet and it takes off again. I hold my mom’s hand as we fly together. When home comes into view I know that our time together is over.

“Goodbye, mom,” I sadly say. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” my mom says. “But, remember I am only a thought away.”

As the window opens I step back into my room. I slip between the sheets and I feel my wife roll toward me.

“You’re so cold,” she murmurs. “And why do you smell of the sea?”

“I brought you a gift,” I murmur as I kiss her gently.

The diamonds glitter in the moonlight.

“They are beautiful,” my wife sighs.

“Just like you,” I reply.

“Where did you find such riches?” my wife asks me.

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” I reply. “Just know that they come from someone who loves you.”

I hear my wife and my mom, both laughing as one. I laugh too, my heart full.