CARPET KING

We are the King family and yes, I have a problem. I’ve had the same problem for 38 years. How can a guy break his family’s traditions on naming a child? You see, when each child is born, the first thing the mother sees when she opens her eyes, after the birth, will be the child’s name.

This is what was related to me when I was old enough to ask why my name was Carpet when we didn’t own one.

My father was really upset about my name and argued that my mother didn’t even see a carpet when she opened her eyes. She saw the bearskin rug she was laying face down on.

My mother said, “No child of mine will be called Bearskin King. Bearskin is like a carpet. So we will call him Carpet King.”

My father grumbled, “But we have no carpet. You must have been looking at the sweet grass that was lying on the floor beside you.”

“Now I know you are crazy,” cried my mother as she laboriously stood up. “You want to call our son Sweet Grass King? I don’t think so! It is Carpet King,” and she threw open the door and stomped outside, muttering to herself, “Of all the nerve, call him Sweet Grass. He’d be the laughing stock of the Indian Nation.”

I couldn’t break the tradition by changing my name and neither would the rest of the family. You see, I have an older sister named Sky King. My brother is Newton King (my father was eating Fig Newton cookies when my mother opened her eyes.) Then came me. My younger brother is called Match King because my father was lighting a fire in the fireplace, with a match. Thank God my mother called it quits after him.

Now I ask you, is this fair to the kids? Tradition or not, some things should be changed.

Here I am, a strapping young man of 5’ 7” tall, have shoulder length pitch black hair, chiseled features, and very nice looking, I might add.

But how does it look when you are filling out an application form, for a job, and write ‘Carpet King’ on the line that asks for your name? They usually say something like, “Please use your real name, not a nick name,” or “Why on earth were you named Carpet?”

When I tell them it was my mother’s wish, they’d laugh and say, “We’ll call you.” They never do.

Then there is the problem of trying to meet girls. It has always been the same, they’d laugh at me and turn away but this last one really takes the cake. I entered the restaurant for lunch, but it was quite full and this pretty gal was sitting alone, so I asked, “Hello, Miss, my name is Carpet King and I wonder if I could share your table? This place is really busy today.”

She stopped eating, with the forkful of food half way to her mouth. She looked at me and asked, “Really?”

I said, “Yes, really.”

First she started tittering, then a giggle broke forth, and suddenly she was laughing so hard that I had to hold onto her shoulders to keep her from falling on the floor. Of course everyone in the place was watching and listening and those sitting at nearby tables were also laughing. Needless to say, I hurried out the door. I didn’t care if she fell on the floor or not, and I was hoping I’d never see her again.

About a week later, I was walking down Main Street, when, whom do I see coming towards me? The gal from the restaurant. All 5’ 5” of her. Her pretty black hair hung down to the middle of her back instead of braided and wrapped around her head. Her features were perfect and even at this distance I could tell her brown eyes were brimming with laughter and her full red lips were parted in the start of a smile.

She seemed to notice me but as she raised her hand in recognition, I quickly ducked into the nearest store. Of all places, it had to be The Tattoo Parlor. Oh, well, I couldn’t be choosy and I darted behind a curtain just as ‘she’ opened the door.

With a grin on her face, she called out, “Hello Carpet, I seen you come in here and I want to talk to you.”

A woman appeared from behind another curtain and said, “You go right ahead, deary, we’ll let you talk to our carpet.”

But ma’am, you don’t understand. I want to talk to the man that just came in here.”

“No ones here but you and I and I’m not to sure about you.”

“But I saw him come in here. I’ll bet he is in one of those rooms. Please look.”

O K, I’ll look,” she said as she started pulling back curtains, then gave a little scream when she seen me standing there. I slapped my hand to my forehead and groaned. I couldn’t avoid that gal.

Miss Laugh-Her-Head-Off greeted me with a big smile and held out her hand, “Hello, Carpet King, my name is Raven Blood and I want to apologize for laughing like I did the other day.”

I was surprised by her name, although it didn’t bother me, nor did I laugh about it. I did smile a little, though. Then I took her hand, which was small and so soft that I didn’t want to let go. I managed to say, “Nice to meet you, Miss Blood.”

The lady behind the counter was eyeing us and finally stated, “There is no loitering here. If you do not want a tattoo, please continue your conversation elsewhere.”

“I don’t suppose you serve coffee and doughnuts here, do you?” I asked.

As she picked up the phone book and advanced around the counter, I took Raven’s arm and we hurried out the door, laughing. Once outside, I asked Raven to have lunch with me and she surprisingly accepted.

We ordered hamburgers and root beers, (no fries because, as Raven said, ‘they were too greasy for her delicate stomach.’) I looked at her stomach and it looked fine to me, very flat. We talked all through lunch and again she apologized for laughing so hard. We really enjoyed each others company and I was a little surprised when she took paper and pen out of her purse, wrote something on it, and handed it to me as

She said, “My phone number, in case you will forgive me. I think I’d like to see Carpet King again.”

She stood to leave, but I was so flabbergasted that I couldn’t move. I just sat there nodding my head ‘yes.’

Her smile sent shivers all through me and for once, I really didn’t mind that my name was Carpet King.

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