Jan von Holleben Story-- The Magic Turban.

We were asked to look at a photo from Jan von Holleben's series "dreams of flying" and write a story about "The Dogrider" (found here: http://www.janvonholleben.com/?page_id=4&att_id=989 )
My story is titled "The Magic Turban".

Markl found the turban in his attic, stuffed between an old trunk and the wood-paneled wall, gathering dust. At first he thought it was a shirt, because the part sticking out looked kind of like a sleeve, but when he pulled it out, leaning all of his thirty-three pounds on it, he found that it was a long strip of heavy orange linen.

He frowned at the fabric, dissapointed, and sneezed from the dust in the air. After a few futile seconds trying to figure out what it was, he ran off downstairs, taking the steps two at a time, to ask his mother.

Markl's mother was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for a salad. She spared the long piece of fabric a small glance, and told him in a slightly bored voice that it was a turban ("What does it do?" "You wear it on your head, dear.") that Daddy had brought back from a dig in the East. Then she turned back to her vegetables.

Left to his own devices, Markl decided that he would don the turban and go on an adventure. He knotted the fabric clumsily around his head, leaving long, trailing ends, and hopped up on the hall table to look at his reflection in the mirror.

Maybe you would only see the little boy in the ridiculous head wrap, but Markl saw a tall, powerful, swashbuckling adventurer in the mirror, a hero with the face of his father. He struck a pose, glaring at his reflection in a way he thought looked impressive, and jumped down from the table.

He had walked a few steps before he realized that his feet were not touching the ground. He stared for a moment, wide-eyed, then took an experimental step upward.

The air was like solid ground under his feet, and soon he was leaping all around the hallway gleefully. Now the front door wasn't too high for him to reach, and he opened it and bounded out, somersaulting in midair.

His dog, Barder, was sitting on the top step of the porch, staring at him with canine bewilderment. Markl grinned as he had an idea, and air-walked over to his dog and climbed onto his back. When he was really little, he used to be able to do this, but recently he'd become too heavy for Barder to carry. He had a feeling it would work this time, though.

And it did. Barder sensed the difference instantly, and rocketed off the porch and into midair, and Markl shreiked delightedly as they soared up into the sky together, holding onto Barder's collar for dear life.

Back in the kitchen, the phone rang. Markl's mother answered it.

"Oh, hello Jan." (Jan was Markl's father.)

"Hello, Carla. You haven't happend to find any orange turbans lately, have you?"

"Yes, I--only this afternoon, actually!"

"Well, I've just spoken with the man who gave it to me, and he's proved irrefutably that it carries a very powerful enchantment! Just one scrap of the fabric gives you amazing powers!"

"You really think it's magic? Markl found it and dragged it in--"

"Oh, go find him and get it from him, who knows what kind of trouble our boy could get into with it!"

At that moment, Markl's mother happened to look out the window, and Markl and Barder were looping the loop around their neighbor's chimney.

"Too late," she said, chuckling.

~FIN~