The Magic Carpet

By Ella Wong

Illustration by Edward Wong

Tim was a trouble-maker. There was no denying that. He was the worst trouble-maker the little town of Hamstown had ever seen. He knew every trick imaginable and he had mastered every prank there was — he was constantly thinking up new ones and testing them out. The most common phrase heard in the streets of Hamstown were the words: “We’ve got to teach that Tim a lesson!” Many tried. But no one ever succeeded. 

One night, when Tim was asleep, an old woman told the town, “Listen, I’ve got an idea. It’ll teach Tim a lesson alright, and if it works he’ll never cause any trouble again.” She whispered her plan to the townspeople. Everyone agreed it was a very good idea.

The next morning, an odd package arrived in the post for Tim. He eagerly ripped the wrapping apart, hoping it was a present. It was a carpet, rolled up into a tight cylinder, and from what Tim could see it was striped a pale brown, a vivid red, and a bright green. 

“What use is a carpet?” Tim grunted irritably. 

“It’s still a present. Unroll it in your room and see how it looks.” His mum told him. Of course, she knew all about the plan. 

“Fine, fine.” 

Tim carried the carpet to his room and spread it out on the floor. He found it was indeed striped brown, red, and green, but in the middle of it was a picture of the very same carpet flying over Hamstown. Tim recognized the streets instantly. And in the picture of the flying carpet was an old rusty bucket sloshing with the clearest water. 

“Useless carpet. Why couldn't it have been something more useful, like a toy?” Tim muttered as he kicked the carpet. 

Dust clouds bloomed from the thread. 

“Actually, you’ll find I’m very useful,” came a sudden voice. It was deep and wise, suggesting that it knew everything there was to know. 

Tim spun around. “Who said that?” he demanded, his eyes searching the room empty of people but him. 

“I said that.” came the reply. 

Tim looked down, and to his surprise, a wide gap had appeared in the carpet, moving in time with the disembodied voice. 

“From what I hear, you’re a real trouble-maker,” the carpet continued. “And I’m here to make you change your ways. Now hop on, and be quick about it!” 

Tim didn’t need to ‘hop on’, as he was already standing on the unrolled carpet. Then in a sudden whoosh of sparkles and colourful smoke, the carpet rose into the air, and with another explosion of lights and glitter, the carpet, with Tim sitting on it, soared through the air, above the streets of Hamstown. 

“Put me down!” Tim commanded. “Put me down this instant!” 

The carpet began to laugh. “Put you down?” It rumbled, chuckling. “You sure you want me to drop you from this height?” 

Tim looked over the edge and gulped. They were flying at a very, very high height. He shook his head frantically. 

“Put me down on the ground safely.” Tim said. 

‘No, not until I show you what I want to show you,” the carpet said firmly. Tim could see he had no choice in the matter, so he let the carpet take him to the library. Through the window, Tim could see a little boy with a cheeky, naughty grin. 

“That’s me!” he exclaimed in surprise. 

He watched as he poured a bucket of water onto the library’s sleek, slippery floor, and giggling mischievously, darted away. It felt strange, watching himself. 

“Now, why did you do that?” The carpet asked kindly, but with a certain force. 

Tim shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a little bit of fun, I guess.” 

Suddenly the carpet’s voice rose to a thundering anger. “Fun? A little bit of fun?” it roared. “Someone could slip on that puddle you made, and bang his head, and lose all his memories! Or at least, that someone would hurt himself! Or, if no injuries occur, which is highly unlikely, the cleaner will have to clean more! And you call it fun! How can you be so inconsiderate? And, and…” The carpet went on naming all the terrible things that could happen because of the puddle. 

When he was finished, he was fuming. 

“Oh,” said Tim, now very ashamed of himself. “Well. I had never thought of that.” 

The carpet whisked him away to a park. Here Tim saw himself playing with a football that wasn’t his, and a little boy crying and wailing for Tim to give it back. Again the carpet asked Tim why he had done this. 

“I forgot to bring my own football, you see, so I took the ball from the boy over there to have some fun with it.” 

The carpet reddened again and bellowed with unbelievable fury, “Fun! How much fun would you have if you had been playing in the park when a bully snatched your ball away! Consider how you would feel, if you were in that poor boy’s place!” 

The carpet paused for a few seconds to let Tim think about this. Tim felt worse than ever. 

“Worse still, someone could accuse you of stealing and you’d be put in jail, or the boy could run to his mum and you’d be in big trouble! How much fun would you call that, huh?” 

Tim quivered as the carpet went on yelling all the horrible things that could happen because of Tim. Eventually, the carpet calmed down. 

“Oh.” said Tim. “Well. I had never thought of that.” 

The carpet glared at Tim and whisked him away again. They went on like this for some time, until Tim cried out, “I’ve learnt my lesson, carpet! I’ll stop and think, twice, before I do anything at all! Just take me home!” 

In another whoosh of sparkles and glittering smoke, Tim was back home, standing on the carpet in his room. The carpet was quite an ordinary carpet now. 

And Tim kept his word. He always thought twice about doing anything at all, and soon he changed from being a trouble-maker into a remarkably helpful boy. He never got any visits from the magic carpet again, which had mysteriously disappeared the next morning, and nor did he ever need any. Hamstown is a peaceful town now, and no one ever pulls pranks… so they say. But if any trouble-maker needs a good lesson, it’s said Tim can always cure the trouble-maker of his naughtiness.