Mr. Widdy and the Meteor Shower
Mr. Widdy and the Meteor Shower
As a collector and restorer of magic carpets Mr. W. J. Widdy the elder had, at his disposal, a number of unique and valuable examples.
His interest, at this moment though was the expected arrival of the Lyrid meteor shower later in April.
Just a few months earlier he had purchased a strato-carpet at a magic carpet auction. A blue Persian carpet embroidered with gold, green and magenta thread. More precisely, a blue Persian style magic carpet made by the ‘Altringham Magic Carpet Co. Ltd., U.K.’
It was while Mr. Widdy was looking at a small Angora floating rug at the auction that Collin McPherson appeared, “Hello William,” he called loudly.
“Hello Collin,” returned Mr. Widdy.
“Just looking?” replied the Scotsman in his usual cautious manner.
Collin and Mr. Widdy had shared an interest in Magic Carpets for many years and it was not long before both realised that neither was going to give away any knowledge that might give one of them an advantage at the auction.
When Mr.Widdy returned home he unpacked both the Angora rug and the strato-carpet. Within a few minutes the Angora rug, levitating by the settee, had glided off to explore while Mr. Widdy put the strato-carpet in the workroom.
Some repairs were needed, but not many, and Mr. Widdy was adept at sewing thread in just the right pattern to give the greatest magic to the carpet. As he sewed, Mr. Widdy floated a few feet above the ground on his favourite carpet, bright green with gold thread and embroidered in blue and red. He was surrounded by silver trays carrying tools and materials to carry out the repairs. Two reed mats were squabbling in a corner.
“Stop that!” shouted Mr. Widdy.
A black, deep piled rug in front of the fire stretched, yawned, snuffled and went back to sleep.
It was just a week before the meteor shower and Mr. Widdy thought he would try out his carpet at night. After sunset he climbed on, settled down and gave the command ‘UP!’
Obediently and silently the carpet rose, elegantly swirling upward and then, at Mr. Widdy’s command, off to the East where they flew over brightly lit streets and buildings of London. A sight that always excited Mr. Widdy. Higher they went until the whole of South East England lay lit below them.
The next week Mr Widdy prepared for the meteor shower then, on the night of the twenty third of April the sky was clear and Mr. Widdy took his strato-carpet out of its box, spread it out and prepared to lift off.
An hour after sun set he gave the instruction ‘UP!’ and the carpet lifted into the night air. The clouds of the previous two nights had dispersed, the carpet tilted upward slightly, rapidly ascending into the night sky.
They flew for some time, drifting around before the first streak of light was seen in the North East. Mr. Widdy steered the carpet in that direction, rapidly gaining height as they went. Then the first meteors arrived, hot debris from space, chunks of rock and boulders flashing past.
“UP, UP!” shouted Mr. Widdy, urging the carpet higher as the density of the shower increased.
“Faster, FASTER” he shouted, pushing the carpet on and up.
Hot boulders flashed past, singeing the edge of the carpet, Mr. Widdy crouching low.
“FASTER!” he shouted as a boulder passed in front of them, exploding into hundreds of smaller, glowing fragments scattering around them.
“You're gonna pay for this.” muttered the carpet, who had not before experienced the thrill of meteor surfing.
“What was that?” called Mr. Widdy.
“That was a near miss,” retorted the carpet.
Faster they went until, suddenly, the glowing debris appeared stationary around them and the Earth spun dizzily below.
“Whooopeeeeee!” shouted Mr. Widdy.
Then to Mr. Widdy’s total astonishment, there stood Collin McPherson, dressed in full highland regalia, on a tartan plaid carpet in the McPherson colours as superheated meteors flashed past.
“Fine night!” shouted Collin, his face glowing with excitement, “Best since the Perseids of ninety three.”
Both Collin and Mr. Widdy were experienced and long time meteor surfers, he remembered the Perseids of ninety three. One hot August night when he and Collin had ridden the meteor stream together, swept along by the Earth’s powerful gravitational tide.
Over the sound of meteors burning up in the Earth’s atmosphere Mr. Widdy called back,
“Fly over to mine for the next Geminids in December, stay for Christmas.”
The two friends bounced along for a while in the slip stream of a large boulder until it
exploded, showering them with sparks,
“Waaahoooooo!” they both shouted, as they flew through the resulting cloud of glowing rocks.
Collin found the centre of the meteor stream and the last view Mr. Widdy had of him was of a Scotsman in a bright red Tam-O Shanter hat disappearing toward the Westerly sun.
Mr. Widdy waved to the Scotsman, slowed the carpet, left the meteor shower and settled down to Earth. When he arrived home in the early hours of the morning the reed mats were still squabbling, the black rug was still asleep in front of the fire and the new Angora rug was levitating decorously near the settee.
Satisfied with the evening Mr. Widdy settled onto his favourite bright green carpet and slept.
His strato-carpet, however, was floating around the kitchen looking for a means of escape.
Barry Stebbings
09/05/2020
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