“Who is that?” Cami asked, ogling the papyrus.
“Ah. You have an eye for power,” Sab said, indicating the stools where he wished them to sit. “That is a great and powerful Egyptian god. He is the hidden one, the god of creativity and regeneration—a reminder of what we can all be. Sit, please. Sit.”
They followed his directions. Max guided his wheelchair next to Will, as far away from Sab as possible.
“Does the god have a name?” Cami pressed.
“His name is Amon,” Sab said solemnly. “Just saying his name is like a prayer, isn’t it? Why don’t you all repeat it with me? It is a wonderful way to start our session. Amon. Amon…”
The only person who echoed Sab was Mrs. Meriwether. The kids were too shocked by the mention of the demon’s name to speak. And Max had such a dislike for Sab that he would have refused to do anything the man asked on principle.
Sab’s black eyes fell on Cami and each of her friends, finally resting on Will. “Not cooperating? No matter, there are many paths to regeneration.” Sab grinned, sitting on the golden throne, his hands on his knees.
“He even looks like the Amon picture,” Andrew whispered to Will. “Look at the way he is sitting.”
Simon’s legs began to tremble. “Do you think he’s the demon?” he squeaked.
“Shhhh,” Will begged, trying to remain calm. His nose was feeling a little itchy, but everyone in the room could see Sab. He was obviously a human being. Maybe he was possessed by the demon Amon? Will couldn’t be sure.
“My assistant tells me that your son—Max, isn’t it?—was experiencing some worrisome dreams,” Sab addressed Evelyn Meriwether as if no one else were in the room. “I am certain I can help him. There is an ancient tonic that has been known to relieve people of dark dreams and promote a lasting sleep.” He slunk from the chair to a wooden chest decorated with hieroglyphics in the corner of the room.
“I am sure you would welcome a nice, long sleep, wouldn’t you?” Sab asked Max over his shoulder, pulling something from the wooden chest.
“Not really. I sleep fine,” Max said hastily.
Evelyn Meriwether turned, bristling. “That’s enough,” she told Max.
Sab placed a flask of red juice on the seat of the throne. “Max will have to drink a few of these a week. They are most pleasant. Some of our other clients have experienced remarkable recoveries in only a few short days,” Sab said, all smiles.
Mr. Meriwether’s little mustache shifted side to side. “Is this some kind of medicine? Should we check with our family doctor before he takes it?”
Evelyn Meriwether grimaced at her husband for daring to question Pothinus Sab.
“These are all natural treatments, sir,” Sab said, as if speaking to a confused child. “Rather like vitamins or liquid minerals.”
Will stared at the tonic. It had a faint dark purple glow around it.
Sab uncorked the bottle. “Drink half of it now, the rest at bedtime. It has a most refreshing taste.”
He would have gone on, but a clamor in the hall and the sound of a ravaged voice yelling caused Sab to pause. He placed the tonic back on the throne.
“I need to see Sab,” the raspy voice yelled in the hallway. “Yes, I ate one goose. So what? I thought it would give me strength. I’m much worse. Look at me! I’ve been taking the tonic for days now and—” A nasty coughing jag stopped the speech.
Sarsour appeared at the door. “Bobbit is here. He ate one of the geese.”
A flash of anger shot across Sab’s face, which he masked quickly. “You will excuse me for a moment, my children.” He half bowed and raced into the hall. Sarsour stuck his fat tongue out at Andrew, who watched him with suspicion.
Mrs. Meriwether picked up the decanter of tonic. “Maxie, you don’t want any more of those dreams, do you? Drink this. Come on now.”
Will leapt up for a closer look at the glass in her hand. He moved his face very close to the glass. “Mrs. Meriwether, what do you see there in the bottle? What color is it?”
“It’s pink. Are you color blind, Will? The tonic is pink,” Mrs. Meriwether said huffily.
“It’s not pink, Mother. It’s green. Can’t you see it’s green?” Cami asked.
Mr. Meriwether was sure it was blue. Simon thought it was purple. Max said, “I don’t care what color it is. I’m not drinking it.”
Andrew was at the door, intently watching the scene in the hall.
“At first I thought it was red,” Will said, still gazing inside the bottle. “Now I realize it’s clear. There’s a tooth swimming in the bottom of the bottle. You all probably can’t see it, but you have to take my word for it. This tonic is not what it appears to be.” Will moved toward the doorway, where Andrew was beckoning him.
“Don’t let Max drink that stuff,” Will quietly told Cami.
Mr. and Mrs. Meriwether began to bicker in suppressed voices about whether Max should swallow the tonic immediately or at all.
“You’ve got to hear this, Will-man,” Andrew said at the doorway. “Bobbit cooked up one of the Egyptian geese he was supposed to deliver to Sab. He sure looks fat to me—could be your man.”
Max rolled his wheelchair to the door, cutting Will off. His eyes were brimming with emotion. “My dream last night was pretty bad. Your aunt was crying a lot. She couldn’t reach you.” Max labored to continue, his face trembling against the headrest of his wheelchair. “The raven was slashing at you. It was a big raven with sharp teeth and a staff. It had the staff.”
“You’re like my own personal coming attractions, Max. Let’s talk later and don’t drink the tonic, okay?”
Max said, “I won’t. If his tonic is anything like his CDs, drinking motor oil would be more fun. No thanks.”
Will patted Max on his arm, then joined Andrew at the open door. Simon came up behind him.
Out in the hall, Sab tried to restrain his voice, though he was clearly upset. “It makes no difference to me how. I expect two fattened geese here tonight, Mr. Bobbit. Do you understand me?”
Bobbit looked as if he were going to fall over at any moment. His coloring was pasty and his eyes unfocused. “I don’t know if I have another plump one. They’re all on the skinny side now. Why do you need them?”
“Sarsour, you will accompany Mr. Bobbit to his shop. Find two appropriate geese or bring a substitute if necessary.” Sab turned to Bobbit and said in a biting whisper, “Perhaps there is some other cherished pet at your store, another rare breed that you have been saving for a special occasion? Is there such a creature? IS THERE?”
“I don’t know.” Bobbit fearfully took a few steps back. “I’ll find something. Mr. Sab, before I go, may I have a different tonic? That last one made my stomach burn,” Bobbit pitifully complained. “It’s like needles inside my belly.”
“Fetch him my special brew, Sarsour. Then go to the shop at once.”
Bobbit tried to ask more questions, but Sab was already on his way back to the consulting parlor. He practically ran into Will, Andrew, and Simon.
“Why are you in the hall?” Sab asked, glaring at them.
“Bathroom.” Will had to think fast. “We need to use the bathroom and didn’t want to roam around looking.”
Sab scowled and only brightened once he saw Cami’s parents arguing inside the room. “The facilities are at the end of this corridor. Come back quickly. This is no place for unchaperoned boys to be wandering.” Sab swept past them into the consulting parlor.
Will ran in the exact opposite direction Sab had indicated. His friends followed him into the darkened hall.
“Isn’t that funny? I had to use the bathroom too,” Simon snorted. “Great bladders must think alike.”
“We’re not going to the bathroom,” Will said. “I want to check out that big room on the other side of the pool. The one behind the bronze doors we saw on the way in.”
“Why do you tell everybody you have to go to the bathroom when you don’t have to go to the bathroom? You need to c
ome up with some new excuses,” Simon said. “The last time we went near those bronze doors, we fell into the basement. Tell him, moron.”
Andrew playfully raised a fist toward Simon. “There are some trapdoors around the columns in there. I don’t like this place.”
At the end of the hallway, the boys walked between two oversized columns to the rectangular pool. Their nostrils were assaulted by the smell of incense and chlorine. To the right were the huge bronze doors bearing the image of Amon. Will walked right up to the doors and clutched the handles to pull them open. He stopped when he noticed a clay seal on the seam between the doors. “We’d better not break that thing or Sab’ll know we went in. There’s got to be another entryway.” Will dashed past the column on the right into an alcove. There he found a square bronze door that looked like a miniature version of the door on the front of the Karnak Center.
“I wonder if this is the shrunken Egyptian god entrance,” Will joked.
“Or maybe it’s Sarsour’s hobbit hole,” Andrew said, laughing.
Will pressed the door open as he reached into his backpack.
“Are you sure we should go in, Will?” Simon said. “Won’t Sab be looking for us?”
Will pulled a flashlight from his backpack, flicking it on. “I need to see what’s inside. It’ll be fine. Short stuff is gone and the Prance of Egypt is in the other room. What could possibly go wrong?”
Andrew and Simon locked eyes for a second and from their shared expression, the silent, collective answer was: “Everything.”
“There’s got to be a light in here somewhere,” Simon said, feeling along the stone wall of the small chamber.
“I doubt it,” Will said, directing the flashlight’s beam across the room. The first thing he saw were the white feathers scattered over the floor. “Do you all see those?”
“The feathers?” Andrew asked. “Sure, I see the feathers.”
“Well, that completes your eye test,” Simon said, teasing Andrew. “Now let’s see how you do on comprehension and reasoning.” He snorted to himself, still patting his hands on the wall behind Will and Andrew. An even bigger hand found the back of Simon’s head, swatting it with force.
Will turned away from his friends and yanked on a huge metal door on the left side of the room.
“This must lead to the main chamber, the one that was locked by the pool.” He studied the door with his flashlight. The locks were all engaged and accessible only from the inside. Will kicked the door in disgust.
Casting his flashlight beam across the rest of the room, he discovered a black marble table with a number of bloodstained knives upon it. There were baskets loaded with fruit beneath the table. A jumbled pile of brass birdcages, like the one Mr. Bobbit had carried into the Karnak Center, teetered atop one another in the corner. A wooden table inscribed with Egyptian lettering held folded white linen garments, a faceless stone head, and three vials of yellowed oils.
“What do you think they use this place for?” Andrew asked.
“Well, it’s not the rec room,” Will worriedly answered. “They probably take the feathers off the geese here and prepare them—for cooking, maybe?”
“It’s a prep room for some kind of ritual.” Simon rattled away, moving along the wall. “I’ve been reading about how in Ancient Egypt, the priests offered food and drinks to their gods several times a day. They would even dress the statue of the god up in new clothes.”
“Why did they do that?” Will asked.
“They believed food nourished the spirit of the god or the dead in the afterlife. The clothes were a sign of devotion.”
“And they did this even for ‘the great god, Amon’?”
“Even the great god—” A tiny squishing noise erupted near Simon. His voice cracked as he said, “Will, shine your light this way.”
Will spun the beam around to illuminate a shaky Simon, his hand touching something on the wall. “What is that?” Will asked, drawing closer.
“They’re ears! They’re all fleshy,” said Simon, recoiling.
One side of a tablet hanging from the wall depicted Ancient Egyptians raising their hands in prayer. On the other side, where Simon’s hand had been, six lifelike blue ears jutted from the panel.
“Are those things real?” Andrew exploded.
“They feel real,” Simon said, staring at the ears. “In Ancient Egypt, this is how the gods heard the pleas of their people.”
Each time someone spoke, the blue ears quivered slightly.
“Shhhh.” Will placed a finger to his lips. “Be quiet. It’s listening. The demon must be able to hear us.”
As Simon stepped, something crunched beneath his foot. He jumped back.
Will lowered his light to the floor. Stacks of broken red wax and wooden figures lay along the wall. Pins protruded from the sides of a few of them. Heads were separated from many of the figurines. What disturbed Will was that all the figures looked exactly alike and they all wore pith helmets.
“That’s really weird,” Andrew said, placing a hand on Will’s arm.
“They’re little Will Wilder action figures,” Simon blurted, bending down.
“Don’t touch.” Will pulled a Ziploc bag and a pocketknife from his backpack. He speared one of the figures. It had broken arms and pins sticking from its head. He felt a touch of nausea as he dropped it into the bag. Why would they do this to a doll that looks like me? He motioned the boys toward the entryway.
“Sab has got to be the demon,” he whispered. “He knew me when I walked in the door. He’s cutting up statues of me, eating geese like crazy….The only problem is, everybody can see Sab. Demons can’t be seen by most people. None of this makes sense.” He shoved the Ziploc bag into his backpack. “I’m going to take this to my aunt Lucille. But first I’ve got to drop by Mr. Bobbit’s place. I want to make sure he doesn’t have the staff and that he’s not snacking on too many geese.”
“We’ll come with you,” Andrew said.
“No. You all stay with Cami. Make sure Max doesn’t drink that poison Sab is offering. I’ll catch you guys later.” Will ducked under the little doorway and headed out the front.
Andrew and Simon returned to Pothinus Sab’s consultation parlor. When they arrived in the room, Sab was standing next to his golden chair, smiling ear to ear. He occasionally closed his eyes as if savoring sweet music. But only the shrill voices of Mr. and Mrs. Meriwether yelling at one another could be heard.
“He is fine, Evelyn. He doesn’t need any medicine,” Mr. Meriwether fumed. “The answer is no.”
“I am his mother. Maxie will sleep better without those horrible dreams,” Mrs. Meriwether shot back. “He’ll drink some right away, Mr. Sab. Won’t you, baby?”
“I said no,” Mr. Meriwether roared. Cami got between her parents and attempted to convince her mother that it was time to leave.
Sab slipped over to Max. “Are your dreams very bad, young man? Tell me, what do you see in your dreams?”
“None of your business.” Max shut his eyes defiantly. Andrew and Simon stepped beside Max’s wheelchair to support him.
Sab’s mouth turned down. He laced his fingers suddenly as if trying to control his anxious hands. “Withheld secrets can cause terrible harm,” Sab whispered to Max. He turned to the other Meriwethers. “Miss Evelyn, I have a notion,” Sab intoned for the whole room. “Max and I were just enjoying a little talk. There is another way to administer the tonic. It is a tried-and-true method—very effective.”
The Meriwethers’ argument stopped for a moment. Sab glided over to the wooden cabinet. Returning to the center of the room, like a magician, he presented a blue lacquered box, studded with scarab amulets.
“What is that, Mr. Sab?” Mrs. Meriwether asked.
Sab’s large black eyes made contact with everyone assembled. “Miss Evelyn, I rarely offer such a special therapy. But for your dear boy, this could be just the thing.” He moved his mouth close to Evelyn’s ear and lowered his voice. “I could give Max
a shot—a natural shot of the tonic. He would experience no pain and the effects would be instantaneous.”
Mrs. Meriwether seemed wary. “How would you do that?”
He opened the decorated box. Inside squirmed a long, oval-shaped black insect with hooked pincers. Mrs. Meriwether jumped at first, but Sab caressed her hand. “It’s an earwig. Quite harmless little fellow, really. It will absorb some of the tonic; then I’ll offer it to Max for a look. One tiny pinch and his nightmares will be no more. Does that sound satisfactory? It won’t even leave a mark.”
Mr. Meriwether cleared his throat loudly. “What are you two talking about?”
His wife was lost in thought. “Be quiet, Len,” she said. “It won’t hurt, Mr. Sab?”
He shook his head. “He’ll not feel a thing.”
“Then yes. That’ll be fine.”
“Mother, what have you agreed to?” Cami asked.
Sab dropped the earwig into the tonic bottle on his throne. Cami saw the thing kicking around in the bottle, swelling up by the moment.
“What is that, Mr. Sab? Why did you put that bug in there?” Cami asked.
“Another instrument of regeneration, Miss Meriwether,” Sab said evenly, smoothing the sides of his glistening black hair.
“We’re leaving now,” Mr. Meriwether said, fussing with the buttons on his jacket. “Come on, Evelyn.”
Max started to flick the switch on his wheelchair.
“Don’t go. Not so soon.” Sab closed the door with a flourish. “I have something intriguing to show you, Max. A boy like you enjoys surprises, yes? Let me share one with you; then you may all leave.”
Fear overtook Max’s face. “Don’t worry,” Andrew told him. “I’ll carry you out myself if I have to.”
Sab leaned over the tonic bottle, narrowing his eyes. “Ah, good and full.”
He placed the blue-lacquered box next to the bottle’s opening. Cami watched intensely as the bloated bug crawled up the neck of the bottle. The earwig seemed to be drawn toward Sab’s box.
Will Wilder #2 Page 14