Professor Alessandro
Professor Alessandro peeked out of the burgundy velvet curtain. It was almost time to start the biggest and most terrifying magic show he had ever done. “This crowd is larger than usual,” he whispered nervously to no one. He dabbed his sweaty forehead and closed the curtain behind him. The professor looked at a heart-shaped mirror on the wall and saw his reflection. Although he was almost 80 years old, his eyes held the twinkle of someone who believed in magic. “I’ve still got it!” In the mirror, he noticed his waxed moustache, curled upward at the ends, which he thought gave him an air of nobility. His oily hair was dyed black, and his goatee was perfectly groomed—except for a few gray hairs that stuck out like errant wires. Alessandro heard the thunder rumble close by. Storm clouds hovered overhead, giving him an added sense of fear. He had never done a magic show in the rain. He had also never done a magic show without his favorite partner: the purple glove. He had lost it somewhere between here and the last town he visited. For almost 60 years, the professor’s purple glove had travelled with him from town to town, in show after show, and it was always the star attraction. |
Alessandro panicked as he heard the thunder come closer. He felt a few raindrops on his face as he peeked out of the curtain again. “What magic can I share with this large crowd?” Then he remembered a quote that he had just read but couldn’t remember who had said it: “Music is probably the one real magic I have encountered in my life. It moves. It heals. There’s not some trick involved with it. It’s pure, and it’s real. It communicates and does all these incredible things.” “Aha! That’s it!” The professor closed the curtain and rummaged through his bag. He found what he was looking for: the silver flute that his grandfather had given him when he was a boy. His grandfather had also taught him magic, and Alessandro remembered his words: “If you believe, son, they will too.” He pictured his grandfather’s eyes. They were always filled with happiness, love, music, and magic—a beautiful sight for a child to behold. As the curtain opened, storm clouds moved away. Professor Alessandro emerged, and the applause was thunderous. Although he hadn’t played the silver flute in many years, it felt good in his hands. He closed his eyes, put the flute to his lips, and played the song that his grandfather had taught him so long ago. It was magic. From Carpet Creatures: Tales from the Deep Pile To join the Carpet Creatures project, please visit our TAE Gallery website. |
