Twinkle

Chapter 7: Magic carpet

"It was humid the last day I saw my father. Leftovers of the evening rain lingered in the night breeze. My parents tucked me in, dressed in fancy clothes. My father, especially, giving me an extra long kiss on my forehead. He hadn't sung me my lullaby so I rushed after them, but by the time I got to the living room, they were gone. I sat on the staircase, staring at the knob on the front door. Fighting away the drowsiness with the determination to fall asleep in my father's arms, the knob turned. I lunched off the staircase, making my way down as the door crept open. My father didn't come back. At the door stood my mother and the one look a child should never see. Her clothes were drenched in water and there was a burn mark on her heel. She crept towards me as my body stopped responding. She pulled me into her arms as we both broke into tears. As she whispered into my ears, repeatedly, "I did it for you" I just remember feeling cold, very cold.
My mother raised me alone after that day. We had no maids or help in the house, my mother had no friends that ever came over either, and after we moved, outside the windows became even more ghostly than inside. I spent the next ten years of my life inside that house. My mother was a very passionate woman that taught me various things that kept me entertained while indoors, we both loved to cook and obsessed over the movies of the time, but most of all, she loved to sew, becoming a fashion designer some years after my father left.
Aside from him, I never felt like anything was missing in my life. I could never leave the house but my mother always told me it was best that way. And although she never told me why, I always felt like she cared and was trying to keep me safe. My mother also seemed to be doing well with her clothes. We lived in a big house and I got almost everything I asked for, but on the last day of February, everything would change.
The Colette Moon show was regular programming for Saturday afternoons. The host, a French reporter, interviewed people from various walks of life in Paris. Us viewers got to peek into various new perspectives and professions we never knew much of before. It was my favorite part of the weekends. But that episode was different, there was a ruckus on the show. There was talk of a high profile person coming for an interview. Imagine my surprise when the person Colette announced on stage was my own mother. I was elated, my eyes stuck to the screen firmly. Looking back now, I wish they'd been anywhere but there, for not long after, Ms Colette would ask a very disturbing question. "Alot of people are referring to you in the papers as The woman that stepped up when Paris needed her the most, and the audience and myself included are very curious as to what happened on Lac de Minimes ten years ago, and why it's only coming to light now". My mother was a bit reluctant to telling at first but Colette had a way of getting things out of people and in no time, my Saturday escape had turned into the worst nightmare, and I was living it.

On the day my mother and father boarded a lone ferry on Lac de Minimes, the Paris State philosophers that had been in hot pursuit for my father had finally caught up. In leagues with them, my mother rigged the ferry choke-full with explosives and readied for that very day, their wedding anniversary. Unwound, my father walked into his coffin and burnt to death... " "But that's not it right?" " I wanted to believe it wasn't but it was. They waited behind and made sure he didn't make it out. After the fire had been put out, they retrieved his body, or what was left of it... My father married a psychopath..." "Don't say that". "... That much I know. What I don't know is why Paris wanted him dead...". He crawled onto my lap. "Your father never liked doing things the hard way, something he said he got from his father. But one thing he didn't mind getting worked up over, was the news. If there was ever a big story, he'd poke until he got to the bottom of it, this of course was a bad habit that got him into alot of trouble, but every now and then, he'd poke into a story that was entirely different from what was said on the news. He'd always say, if all stories point towards one direction, don't be too lazy to look in the other. Thinking for yourself may hurt and even lead nowhere, but that's just another feature of being alive. Your father was a good man and I'm sure there's more to what happened, we're just not seeing the full story yet".

Our evening walks to the café had become routine at this point, today's however, was very different. A gust of wind filled my lungs as i caught a glimpse. "What? What is it?". I darted forward for closer inspection. "It's a magic carpet". "What?". "A Citreon DS. It's commercials are everywhere". "Then how come I've never seen one?". "Cause we don't have a tv". "Oh". "They say it rides so smooth, it's like it's wheels don't even touch the ground. That's why it's called a magic carpet". "Well I'm glad seeing it was able to cheer you up. Now can we get something to eat?". "Oh, while we're at it, we can guess who's it is". "Knock yourself out". The familiar bell welcomed Chalamet and I as my eyes moved to our table, but today would prove itself once again to be a strange one. "There's someone at our table". My eyes shuffled across multiple seat options, "Oh that's fi...", "Oh come on. I'll bet you a slice he's the one with the magic carpet" he said strolling to the table, ignoring my screaming-whispers. Muttering behind him "I was already paying for your food anyway" I clenched my fists and tailed behind him.
Silence brewed at our table as my head laid, buried between the pages of the menu. "Why did I even do this?"

"Um excuse me miss" He called out. "May I pet your cat?" "SH...sure", I nudged Chalamet off my lap. He reached under the table, picking him up. "His fur is..." "ACHOO!" He shot out as Chalamet darted up my laps. "I'm sorr..." "ACHOO!" He launched off his chair and walked out of the cafe, calm and unshaken. More so than any actor I'd ever seen, closing the cafe door behind him,to no sound. "ACHOOOOOOOO!!!!" The volcano seemed to erupt. Chalamet and I peeked through the window as he made his way to his car. My eyes widened in disbelief "I told you!" He tapped my hand frantically. My eyes remained, as he opened the passenger door of the Magic carpet "I guess I owe that slice after all". We scurried back in place as he made his way out of the car and back to the cafe. "I'm sorry about that. I have a mild allergy to cats". "Mild?" I chuckled "Why pet him if you knew this might happen?" "I just can't help myself when I see a cute cat. I'm quite weak to that". "I see". "I hope I didn't ruin your appetite" he atoned as Ms Marie made her way to ur table. "Oh no it's fine". "What can I get for you today?", "Toast and cranberry sauce". "And you?" She turned to him, "I'll have the same. Both on me, thank you". "You don't have to..." "Please,... consider it a courtesy for letting me pet your cat and an apology for afterwards". "Alright" I managed between chuckles.