Miss Mary’s Magic Carpets

    It all started with a pinecone, a pair of high-heeled shoes, and Rob’s wispy attempt at a moustache.

    Okay, fine.  That’s a little unfair to the pinecones and shoes.  It was all Rob’s moustache.

    Once I caught a glimpse of that awful thing, I couldn’t look away.  It lay there across Rob’s face like a prickly weed, and every few seconds he would stroke it slowly.  I shuddered each time his finger crept up to touch it.  

    I was so distracted by the abomination, in fact, that I didn’t see the pinecones Lucy’s daughter had brought in. The little demon had left them scattered across the floor of my newly opened magic carpets shop.  Hurrying through the room with that day’s pick-ups in hand, I didn’t see the pinecones.  Usually they wouldn’t be particularly catastrophic, but I’d taken off my shoes because…

    Well, high heels.    

    The pinecone spikes pierced my tender sole with a savage fury usually only seen in berserkers and mama bears.  I jerked my leg back, shouting out in pain.  I fell backwards, and the stack of rug orders went flying as I swung my arms round and round.  

    The orders sailed in a beautiful, graceful arc through the air.  

    Right into the mop bucket.

    Finally regaining my balance, foot throbbing, I dragged myself over to the bucket and pulled out a soggy mess.  Frantically trying to peel apart the dripping sheets, my heart sank lower than Rob’s Tinder ratings.  I couldn’t read a word.   

    I could have been honest with my clients when they came in for pickup, could have told them that I didn’t quite know which rug was which.  I should have let them know that there was a chance, a slight chance, that the magic carpet they ordered was not the one they picked up.  But an error like that could doom my new shop before it ever got started.  So when my first three customers stepped up to the counter with eager smiles, I smiled right back and helped them load the area rugs into their cars.  

    I didn’t even ask myself what the worst thing that could happen would be.  But as it turns out, I didn’t need to ask. I just needed to wait.

 

Order 85E, Mark Wallace: Amorous Encounters

    Mark nervously pulled at his leather jacket, flashing a toothy grin at Dani.  She looked amazing tonight in a mint green dress, her dark tresses spilling down over her shoulders and almost down to her waist.  She smiled blandly and shook the dice, dumping them out onto the coffee table.

    Yahtzee.

    This carpet better work, Mark thought to himself, glancing at the intricately woven area rug beneath the table.  At two hundred dollars, Dani better be drooling over him by the end of the night.

    “Create any atmosphere you need with our magic carpets,” the advertisement had read.  “They’ll spin whatever emotions you need to make your business or home a better place!”

    “Congratulations on your Yahtzee!” he said to Dani, a little too enthusiastically.  

    “Thanks,” she grinned.  “So Mark, tell me more about yourself.”

    This was it: Time for the magic carpet to do its work.  Now pushing thirty, Mark still could never talk to women.  But with a magic carpet on his side, he was bound to get the girl.  

    “I have bipolar disorder,” he announced suddenly, confidently.  “And I’m always nervous that it will freak out the girls I date.” 

    A moment of silence.

    Oh, Mark thought. Oh, no.

    Dani’s smile was frozen onto her face, her eyes drifting toward the door.  

    “I didn’t mean to say that,” Mark choked out.  

    What happened?  The rug, it was supposed to make him suave, to make her love him, to make this date go smoothly.     Amorous encounters, it was called.  The lady at the shop had promised it would get him the girl.

    He covered his face with his hands.  “This cannot be happening,” he moaned.

    At least Dani was nice about it.  She stayed until the end of the Yahtzee game before making her escape.

 

Order #86E, Michael Brown: Insatiable

    “A rug in a restaurant?” Dani asked as she tied on her apron.  “That seems kinda weird to me.”

    Jeff shrugged shyly, ducking his head.  “It was my idea.  I thought it would make the place look more inviting,” he said.  

    She took another look at the persian-looking rug through the kitchen doorway.  “I guess it’s nice,” she shrugged.

    “You know,” Jeff continued, “Mikey said he got it from some magic shop.  It’s supposed to make customers eat more.  It plays with your emotions.  This one is called Insatiable.”

    “And hunger is an emotion now?” Dani asked, laughing and grabbing a rag to wipe down the counter.  

    There was something different about Jeff tonight, she noticed.  He was still the same guy, shy and unassuming, but there was something about the way the light was hitting his brown eyes…

    “Hey, Dani girl,” Mikey said, peeking his head around the huge oven he’d been hidden behind. She waved hello.  “I thought you had a hot date tonight.”

    Dani made a face.  Mark was nice, but there was no spark there.  Not to mention him blurting out the fact that he was bipolar in the middle of Yahtzee.  “Not so hot after all,” she said.  “I called Mel and let her know she didn’t have to take my shift.”  Mikey laughed and went back to the fryer.

    “Well, I’m glad you’re working tonight,” Jeff said, his prominent ears turning pink.  “Shifts are always much better with you around.”

    “Thanks, Jeff,” she said, feeling her own face grow warm.  Okay, there was definitely something different about Jeff tonight.     When she’d started at Mikey’s place, she’d thought maybe there was something there, but Jeff had always bolted at even the smallest hint of flirtation from her.  The way he was looking at her tonight was different.  

    “Jeff, do you want to maybe go on—”

    “I love you,” he blurted out.  His eyes grew wide once he realized what he’d said, his face mirroring her own shock.

    She saw Mikey’s head pop back out from behind his oven.

    Her mouth formed the words without her consent: “I love you, too,” she answered, surprising all three of them.

    “Looks like you have a hot date tonight after all,” Mikey said from the back, throwing in a cheeky wink.  

 

Order #87E, Melissa Perry: An Open Book

    Dr. Melissa Perry, psychiatrist, was so, so hungry.  Insatiable, really.  She’d already eaten her lunch, and she was just waiting for this client to stop talking so that she could make a quick run to the sandwich place down the street.  

    Usually she loved her job.  She’d raced through her undergraduate degree, received top marks in med school, and now, at thirty, she was a successful psychiatrist.  But today, the only thing on her mind was food.  Delicious, savory, mouth-watering food.  Even the swirls on her new magic rug were starting to look like cinnamon rolls and pastries.  What was wrong with her?

    “It was a disaster,” her client was saying.  “I announced to my date that I had bipolar disorder.  It was so apple… awful,”  he corrected, shaking his head.  

    “And why did you feel the need to reveal your disorder to this girl?” Melissa asked.

    I should order the BLT, she thought to herself.  Bacon sounds amazing right about now.

    “I don’t know,” Mark responded, hedging.  This rug was supposed to make people feel comfortable, more willing to tell the truth, but it didn’t seem to be working on Mark.  What did I expect? Melissa thought.  Magic rugs.  The whole idea was ridiculous.

    “It was like a bad cream,” Mark said finally, scratching his head.

    “Cream?” she asked.  Oh, cream sounded good.  Ice cream… Ice cream with chocolate sauce and sprinkles.  Maybe caramel sauce.

    “Dream!” Mark corrected.  “Sorry, dream.”

    “Everything okay, Mark?” Melissa asked, pulled out of her cuisine fantasies by his strange behavior.  

    “Yeah,” Mark laughed, a little embarrassed.  “Sorry, I don’t know why, but I am so hungry right now.  It’s a little hard to focus.”

    “I’m hungry, too!” she responded, dropping her doctor persona.  “I’ve been absolutely ravenous all day.”

    Mark bit his lip thoughtfully.  “I’ve still got twenty minutes left in my session.  Do you want to go pick up some food instead?  I’ll pay.  I just don’t think I can last for that long without stuffing something into my mouth.”

    “Absolutely,” Melissa responded, throwing all of her ethics and professional restrictions out the window.  “I know a sandwich place nearby that makes the best BLTs I’ve ever tasted.”

    Mark nodded eagerly, jumping up from his chair.  “I love bacon,” he said.

    They both grabbed their jackets.

    “I was going to tell you this, but I got distracted by thoughts of food and horrible dates, ” Mark said as he held the door open for her.  “I forgot to mention that I really like your new rug.”